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#i had to wear my headphones the entire time
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Angst;
Foul legacy with a reader who almost died but got saved by FL; but the damage ended up in memory loss.
*evil giggling* oh anon, you've given me too much power >:)
the first thing you feel when you open your eyes again is pain shooting through your body, concentrated in your aching limbs and head, and you let out an involuntary groan. suddenly there's an odd sound- something akin to a chirp- as someone cradles you gently in their lap, and you almost relax until you feel sharp, armored claws brush against your skin. your eyes fly open and meet the gaze of an enormous monster, its crystalline eye the color of the deep sea and filled with worry
the creature trills quietly, and you scream, scrambling away as fast as your battered body can handle. the beast whines sharply, trying to catch you, to help you, but you only see the talons and how they rake across the air, easily able to pierce through your skin. the commotion is so great that the doctor rushes in, kneeling to help you to your feet. another man- Zhongli, you know him through the fog in your mind- holds the monster back as it whimpers and cries out, reaching for you. Dr. Baizhu gently reassures you, trying to help you back into your bed, but you resist, looking from the Abyssal creature to Baizhu to Zhongli and back again, fear illuminated brightly in your eyes
you lean away from the beast, unable to understand what it wants and why it's here. and Foul Legacy sobs, unable to understand why you look so afraid of him when you loved him so much before
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doozclops · 10 months
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If I could ever get a new laptop, I could then start saving up for new headphones.
Thankfully these ones aren't broken yet, but I use them so much that they get so worn. At least the headband of this one is metal so it won't crack like the last ones, but man.
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aztrosist666 · 6 months
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i played the drums in front of my entire fucking school for mass ans couldnt hear anything i was playing 🔥🔥🔥🔥💪💪💪
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beating the goth stereotypes and going outside (for the 2 minute walk to get energy drinks)
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x0xomady · 9 days
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But Daddy I love him !
(based on the song from TTPD)
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
warnings: smut, p in v, marijuana consumption, overstimulation, oral sex, pet names, 18+
(harrystyles!dealer x female reader) both are 18!
summary: senior year of high school y/n falls in love with the new plug at school.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
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i HATE high school.
that might sound stereotypical like i’m one of those emo girls that hates everything, but i’m not. i just HATE high school.
for the first couple years everything was going great. freshman and sophomore year were so much fun. i had a big group of friends and i was pretty popular. i was even dating the cute skater boy! it was literally a teenage romcom like ’10 things i hate about you’.
however, that all went to shit.
the downfall of my teenage years first began when my asshole ex thought leaking my nudes to the entire junior class was a good idea. so naturally instead of standing up for me, my friends turned on me and said i was a slut.
after that traumatizing incident, i learned one thing. high school is temporary so why waste my time on bitchy friends?
that’s the attitude i had coming into senior year and it’s the one that’s kept me going for the last few months.
i stopped dressing preppy and popular because my “friends” wanted me too and i started dressing like i want to.
life is going fucking great now. i smoke weed, go to class, and binge watch gilmore girls. i don’t have to go to those god awful parties on the weekends, i can just relax.
the only way thing going bad for me right now was the fact that my dealer moved away. now i had to find a new one which isn’t hard, just annoying.
from what i’ve heard there’s 2 other dealers on campus. one is a freshman that steals shit from his dad and sells it. the other one is a random british guy that moved here last year.
i’m probably going to choose the new british guy.
so that was my goal for today. i’m going to find the new british guy in my class and buy weed so i don’t die during midterms week.
from what i’ve heard about this mystery british guy is his name is either harvey, harry, or harden. i’ve also heard he’s insanely hot and rejects all the girls that ask him out. although, if we’re being real here, most british guys are hot just because of their voices. so, i’m doubting he’ll be that hot. he’s probably going to have nasty ass teeth and be short.
walking down the halls of the school is kind of fun for me. i blast music in my headphones and pretend like i’m not in this hell hole. my outfit is casual and comfy so i’m honestly pretty confident right now.
as i walk into my first class i sit in my usual seat i see a new guy sitting next to me. i glance at him and can’t remember if i’ve ever seen him before. i don’t think i’ve ever seen him, but i can say for a fact that he is very, very, VERY attractive.
the new guy is sitting back against his chair, manspreading of course, with his headphones in. he’s wearing a black hoodie and dark blue jeans. he looks so casually perfect it’s slightly alarming.
i turn towards the front of the classroom as my teacher begins to drone on about different math equations. however, throughout the 50 minute class, my eyes kept wandering back over to the very attractive boy sitting next to me.
i TRIED to keep my thoughts off of him. i mean, i have completely sworn off dating and crushes for the rest of high school because of the last one that fucked me over.
my thoughts are cut off by the boy tapping me on the shoulder. my mind freezes and i turn towards him.
“yeah?” i try to act all nonchalant and mysterious but i said yeah WAY to quickly and excitedly.
the boy smiles slightly and leans over whispering to me. “do ya get a thing he's droning on about?”
oh fuck. the british accent.
“no i really don’t i'm completely zoned out right now.” i whisper back to the british boy.
he nods and leans back in his chair watching the teacher talk. he is sitting there with his knees casually spread and his arms crossed.
we sit there for another 10 minutes listening to the teacher talk about different functions until he announces.
“alright for the last 15 minutes of class go over the problems on the board with the person next to you.” the teacher points to the problems then sits at the desk so we can all work with our partners.
the boy smirks and turns his head back towards me. “ready to fail together?”
i can’t help the small smile that creeps onto my lips. i usually try to stay pretty unbothered and calm at school, but something about the way this curly headed boy was smiling at me made me a bit giddy.
AND he has weed, small plus.
“yeah lets do it” i nod and we start working on the equations together. he scoots closer to me and rests his head propped up on his arm while i start writing things down.
he watches me write for a second before speaking up. “y’have pretty handwriting.”
i look at him a bit surprised but smile a little bit. blush slowly creeps up on my cheeks as he compliments me. “really? never heard that before.” i shrug.
“yeah never seen someone write their three’s with a curl before. it’s adorable.” he smirks and looks up at me for a second before looking back down at my writing.
i’m about to speak up again but the teacher cuts me off. “if you haven’t finished the problems yet, do them tonight and turn them in tomorrow morning.”
he looks over at me with a smile, “we still have quite a few questions left."
“yeah this is going to take a while.” i sigh looking down at the 32 questions we have to work on.
he turns his body towards me more and props his arm up against the back of the chair next to me. “where do you eat lunch?”
i shrug. “probably in the library today because i have a fuck ton of work to catch up on.”
“hm okay. mind if i join you? we could finish the work then.” he has a small smile on his face while i sit there looking flustered as ever.
“oh yeah sure.” i nod and smile a little bit. “i’ll just be on the couches in the back. come find me.” he nods and we both exit the classroom.
holy shit. THAT was the guy i’m supposed to buy from? i’m going to be needing a LOT more weed than i thought.
throughout all of the drama that went down junior year, i have had one friend remain loyal to me. y/bsf/n and i have been friends since freshman year of high school and have stayed close ever since.
as soon as i walked out of math i rushed to find her. naturally, i found her touching up her makeup in the girls bathroom.
“GUESS WHAT?” i squeal as i burst into the girls bathroom.
she immediately drops her mascara and whips around to face me. “WHAT WHAT”
i smile and grab her shoulders. “I’M EATING LUNCH WITH THE HOT BRITISH PLUG”
y/bsf/n face drops and she squeals excitedly. “OMG I SAW HIM THIS MORNING HE IS SO- ”
“can you guys shut up? i’m trying to wash my hands” a random girl glares at us.
“um no? can you go wash your shit covered hands then leave?” she snaps back at her. the girl rolls her eyes and walks out of the bathroom.
i’m too excited to even care. we stand there for the next couple minutes before class starts talking about what i’m going to do and how to talk to him.
another girl walks up to the mirrors and suddenly turns to us with an “i’ve got gossip” look. “you know i heard he only wears long sleeved hoodies and shirts to school because he’s a heroin addict that’s covering track marks.”
both y/bsf/n and i roll our eyes and shake our head. “that’s a dumbass rumor don’t spread shit like that.” i glare at her.
the girl rolls her eyes and shrugs. “might be true.”
“wait wait pause.” my face drops as i look at y/bsf/n.
“what?”
“i don't even know his name. the only thing i know is that it starts with an H” my eyes widen in the realization that i didn’t even introduce myself in class today.
“uhhh i think it’s harvey? i’m like 80% sure.” she shrugs and continues doing her makeup in the mirror as i stand there freaking out.
“harvey?! like steve harvey? theres no way thats his name.” i roll my eyes.
“whatever, just ask him! oooh maybe if you guys hookup he’ll give you free weed!” she smirks at me.
“NO i’m not using him for free stuff. that is so fucked up.”
she rolls her eyes and applies her lipgloss. “fine fine. be all moral if you want.” the bell rings and the both of us leave the bathroom. i head towards my english class with the elated feeling of what’s to come.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
by the time lunch rolls around i’m feeling giddy as ever. y/bsf/n had been hyping me up for the last four periods which wasn’t helping my excitement die down at all.
i walk into the library building and walk to the back where my usual lunch study couch is. i set my tote bag and lap top down and get comfy waiting for “H” to show up. if his name is actually harvey theres no way in hell i’ll be able to take him seriously.
after about five minutes he walks over and plops down on the couch next to me. “ready?”
“yeah lets finish this shit.” i nod and pull out my work while he grabs his. “so can i ask your name? i totally forgot to ask this morning.”
he pauses and turns to me with a smirk. “wait you don’t know my name?”
my eyes widen and i try to play it off. “uh… no how would i know your name?”
he instantly starts laughing and covers his mouth. “really? we’ve been in the same math class for 5 months!”
i stare at him in shock and guilt for a second before snapping out of it and smiling. “i’m sorry. i’m pretty zoned out or high during math.”
“yeah i got that.” he smirks and looks at me. “i even know your name y/n”
i feel blush start to creep up my cheeks as i hear my name drop from his lips. is it from embarrassment or being flustered? we’ll never know, but it’s probably a mix. he knows my name? fuck.
“oh i’m so sorry.” i meet his eyes with a nervous and embarrassed look.
“no you’re good. this is only the second time we’ve ever interacted so i understand.” he still has a smug smile on his face. “well my name’s harry.”
“ohh harry? my friend told me something completely different.” i smile. thank GOD i didn’t call him harvey. i would’ve died from the humiliation if that slipped out.
harry smirks and looks back over at me. “wow already talking about me to your friends? good to know i make an impression.”
my face heats up at his teasing words, but i try to play it off. “well it’s not often a british guy sits next to me in math.”
“yeah i guess thats true.” harry nods and leans back against the couch. “i’ve always known who you were. which might sound creepy but i promise it’s not.”
“really?” how would he know who i am? besides math we don’t have anything together. we don’t even run in the same friend group.
“yeah you’re like the hot girl that got trashed by her friends right?”
i roll my eyes. “yeah thats me. i’m guessing you saw my nudes.”
harry frowns and shrugs. “i didn’t look at them myself but i heard descriptions. i’m not a pervert i wouldn’t look at some random girls nudes.”
“okay thank you but, oh my gosh hearing about it is 10x worse!” i groan in embarrassment.
“hey, it’s not your fault. that ex and those “friends” of yours were total assholes for doing that to you.” harry gives me a sympathetic look before returning to the math problems.
“wait. if you’ve been in my class this whole time how have i not seen you before today?” the realization hits me that i’ve never even seen harry in class before. i would’ve remembered if i had, he’s not a face you would forget seeing.
harry shrugs. “i usually sit in the back on the other side of the classroom.”
“oh. so then why did you sit next to me in the front today?” i look at harry slightly confused.
“because you’re pretty.” he smirks at me.
my eyes widen and i blush a little. “oh thank you.”
for the next 30 minutes we talk mindlessly back and forth while working on our homework together. as lunch time comes to a close i remember why i was originally seeking out harry.
“hey i totally forgot to ask, but are you selling?”
harry puts down his notebook and crosses his arms looking at me with a small smile. “hm depends what you’re trying to buy.”
i roll my eyes and give him a look. “i think you know what i’m trying to buy.” harry chuckles quietly and continues teasing me.
“wow what is an innocent girl like you doing trying to buy pot?” he looks absolutely gorgeous like this. he’s leaning back comfortable with his arms crossed. those emerald green eyes search my face with an amused grin. “i think you’re daddy would be disappointed if he knew.”
“oh whatever.” i try to act annoyed but the way he is looking at me right now is intoxicating. “so you have it? because if you don’t i’m going to have to go to that weird ass freshman.”
harry laughs and rests his head agains the back of the couch. “of course i have something for you y/n. except i don’t sell at school so if you want something you’ll have to come over later.”
oh. OH go to his house? don’t have to ask me twice.
“yeah for sure.” i nod at him and play it off with a smile like i’m not internally squealing with joy.
harry pulls out his phone and holds it out for me to take. “put your number in and i’ll text you my address.”
my heart beat speeds up as i take the phone from him carefully. i quickly type in my number and create a contact with my name as, ‘y/n 💞’
a bright smile appears on his face when he sees my contact in his phone. harry glances back up at me and says, “god you’re so cute.”
i blush brightly and feel extremely flustered but i ignore it and nod. “text me your address and i’ll come over after school.”
harry smiles and nods. “alright.” he quickly types something into his phone. i hear a ding from my phone and see a text message from an unknown number. harry’s address is written so i quickly set the contact to ‘harry 🍃’
“cool see ya later y/n” harry nods at me and exists the library.
“bye” i sit there in shock of everything that just happened. he called me cute AND pretty? tonight is going to be un-fucking-real.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
the first thought that comes to every girls mind when they are invited over to a guys house is, their outfit. so that’s where i am now. running around my room throwing shit around trying to find a cute outfit.
y/bsf/n was sitting on my bed telling me different things. “okay don’t wear a skirt that’s trying WAY too hard.”
“i know!” i groan and drop all my skirts on the ground before scrambling back to my closet.
“y/n look. the more you try the more shallow you’re going to come off. so just wear jeans and a cute top.” she shrugs and throws me a pair of my low rise jeans.
“yeah yeah you’re right.” i sigh and put the jeans on with a cute top, and my outfit is ready to go.
“ugh SO cute honey. you’re gonna wipe that sexy ass off his feet.” she claps happily and smiles.
i roll my eyes but smile. “okay whatever i have to go.” i kiss her cheek than head towards the door.
“yay go get high and laid bitch!” she giggles as i leave my bedroom.
harry’s house is a 15 minute drive from mine so i had to leave now if i was going to make it. i hate to admit it, but the gnawing feeling of anxiety and nervousness was finally hitting me.
usually when i’m over at guys houses, it’s very chill and i’m not worried because theres no reason to be. however, this time i’m actually nervous because i’m actually into the guy i’m seeing.
sure we only met officially today, but he’s hot, nice, and he has weed. what’s not to love?
as i drive up to harry’s house and see a decently sized house with a couple cars parked outside. i park on the street and touchup my makeup before walking up to the front door.
before i can chicken out and run away i ring the doorbell.
after a few seconds i hear someone run down the stairs and open the door. there, looking hot as ever, is harry. he’s wearing a white wife-beater tank top, and of course, the heavenly gray sweatpants.
it takes every ounce of self control in my body not to check him out.
“oh hey y/n. come in.” harry smiles at me and opens the door so i can enter his house. i step inside and see the typical suburban house. it’s very clean and there’s voices coming from the kitchen.
“thanks for letting me come over” i look up at harry as he is closing the door behind me.
“yeah for sure. cmon let’s go upstairs you don’t want to meet my parents.” he smirks and nods towards the staircase.
“okay” i nod and follow him up the staircase towards his room. it’s always fun going to other people’s houses and seeing little glimpses of what they’re day-to-day life is really like. it’s easy to put on a persona at school and hide yourself, but at your own home it’s impossible.
harry’s house is extremely nice. his parents have to be doctors or something because this is definitely upper middle class. there are pictures across the walls, awards for each person in the family, and paintings. It looks like harry has a sister… cute.
“that’s pretty.” i say pointing towards the large pairing hung in the middle of the wall. the painting really is beautiful. it was a picture of what looked like the New York skyline at sunset.
harry turns around and looks at the painting and then me. “oh yeah. my mom made that.”
“really? she's talented” i smile and continue following him down the hallway towards his room.
“hm yeah she’s an artist. we have a fuck ton of paintings around the house.” harry shrugs and opens the door to his room with me trailing behind him. “anyways… this is my room. just sit anywhere while i grab my shit.”
i nod and plop down onto the beanbag chair next to his desk. harry hums quietly as he goes over to his drawers and starts rummaging through them. harry’s room is decorated completely with posters, a guitar hung on the wall, and pictures pinned up.
i couldn’t help but admire him for a minute. it really was surprising to me how attractive this man was. theres cute guys, and then theres hot guys… like harry.
he continues looking through his drawers for a minute before pulling out a small paper baggie. i watch him put a couple things into it and then walk over to me.
i take the bag from harry gratefully and look up at him. “how much do i owe you?” i ask while pulling out my wallet.
harry shakes his head and sits down on his bed. “how about you smoke a joint with me and we’ll call it even?”
“really? that sounds like a win-win for me and a lose-lose for you. it’s fine harry i can pay.” i protest while opening my wallet and looking at him expectantly.
“mm nope. sounds like a win-win to me. i get to supply you so you don’t go to that weirdass freshman and i get to smoke with the pretty girl from my math class." he smirks and pulls out a joint shaking it between his fingers teasingly at me. “it’s alright y/n first times on me.” i roll my eyes but sense that he’s not going to give in and let me pay him.
“fine, fine, but next time i’m paying okay?” i never felt good about taking things for free. it made me feel like i owed a large debt to them in the future.
“sure whatever you say, love.” harry shrugs and pulls out his lighter and then pats the spot on the bed next to him. “now get up here with me so you can pay up.”
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 2 hours later ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
how did i end up straddling harry’s lap? good question! i have no fucking idea.
it started out chill. we were passing the joint back and forth while having a casual conversation. we talked about the bitches at our school, our summer plans, blah blah blah.
it was all going great and chill until harry decided to switch things up. maybe it was the fact that we are both baked, maybe it’s that we’ve had a weird sexual tension since this morning, but it switched up so fast.
it first started when harry made a comment about my lipgloss.
“hm i’ve never had strawberry pot before.” harry smirks and hands the joint back to me. i look at harry confused for a second trying to figure out what he meant.
“what do you mean?”
“i mean… you’re pretty pink lipgloss is getting all over it and it’s making it taste sweet.” he has the most smug look on his face as he leans back against the headboard of his bed.
i roll my eyes as harry teases me about my lipgloss. “quit acting like you don’t like it.”
“i never said i didn’t like it! i was just saying, i think i have some lipgloss on too.” he chuckles and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. there was, in fact, lipgloss. oops.
i’m too high to even care so i just start giggling at harry’s fake angry expression. my giggling pulls a small smile onto harry’s lips.
“hey! i’m just trying to be a good friend here. you need to moisturize your lips regularly curly.” i erupt into a fit of giggles as harry simply smirks and takes another drag.
“oh you’re such a good girl trying to keep my lips moisturized.” harry rolls his eyes sarcastically and hands me the joint. i take it him from him and take another hit letting the smoke fill my lungs before turning back to harry.
“seriously harry, i’m a great friend. girls won’t kiss you if you have crusty ass lips.” i try to say that with a serious and straight face but i instantly burst out laughing again.
“wow what would i do without you?” he chuckles and takes the joint from me. “you know now that i’ve tasted your lipgloss… i kind of want to taste those pretty little lips of yours.” harry grins and taps his index finger agains my lips lightly.
i smile and shift so i’m sitting on harry’s lap straddling his hips. “that’s fine with me.”
harry puts the joint down on the ashtray next to his bed and rests his hands on my hips. “really that’s okay with you?”
“mhm” i nod and bring my hands up to play with his curls. harry’s green eyes search mine for a second before placing his hand on my cheek. he hums and traces his thumb carefully across my bottom lip.
“such a pretty thing hm.” he smirks and leans his head forward nudging my nose with his. i smile and play with his curls.
“so… can i have a kiss petal?” harry cups my cheek and leans in. without hesitation i lean in and connect our lips. harry sighs against me and holds my head close to him.
i wrap my arms around his neck and deepen the kiss opening my lips to him. harry bites my bottom lip and pulls away for a second. i smile and look at him. “you’re a good kisser”
harry hums softly and kisses me on the jaw making me blush slightly. his hands grip my hips lightly has his kisses make their way down my neck.
“so fucking pretty, you know that? i’m obsessed with you” harry mumbles against my neck. “how did i not ask you over sooner?”
i smile and shift my hips so i’m sitting closer against him, a light blush painting my cheeks. “you should’ve. i would have said yes.”
“hm that right? i’ll keep it in mind.” he smirks and pulls my hips against him. his kisses continue to travel down my neck before stopping at my collar bone.
“lay down for me y/n” he says while kissing my neck.
i roll off harry’s lap onto my back onto his bed. he smiles and crawls over me. he props his arms up on either side of my head. harry looks so hot above me.
“can i taste you petal?” his bright green eyes turn dark filled with lust as he looked at me desperately. i nod eagerly and press my lips against him once more.
“please harry, need you.” i let out a soft moan as harry nips at my neck and travels down my body until he’s between my legs.
“gonna let me see you y/n?” he asks before pulling down my jeans and tossing them off the bed. i nod and watch as harry smirks up at me. his eyes travel down from my eyes to my core.
“so fucking pretty i swear.” he hums and presses a kiss against my clothes center. i moan quietly as his lips travel down my panties before pushing them to the side.
he pulls my panties to the side and lets out a groan as he presses a sweet kiss to my clit. i gasp and hold harry’s hair tightly.
“you taste so sweet baby.” he hums against my clit, sending vibrations up my body. i tug harry’s hair to escape the delicious torture but he just smiles up at me and continues kissing me. his thick ring clad hands holding my hips against his face.
“please harry- ” i whine and press my hips up against him. he sticks his tongue out flat and runs it up my pussy while keeping eye contact with me.
he pulls away for a second and grabs the joint for a second. his lips wrap around it taking a deep hit while watching me sit there impatiently. he smirks and pulls the joint from his lips pushing it between mine. “hold that for me petal.”
i take the joint willingly and take a hit while harry reconnects his lips with my core. i let out a groan as harry sucks my clit between his lips just as he did with the joint.
my body is racked with pleasure as harry hungrily sucks on my bundle of nerves. my hand holds his curls tightly as he eats me like a starved man.
“fuck harry!” i gasp as harry pushes his middle finger into my tight hole. he continues lapping at my clit while pumping his finger into me. the ring resting at the bottom of his finger left a cool sensation run through my body.
“how are you so bloody wet?” he moans against my core while adding a second finger to the mix. my pussy clenches against him greedily as the sensations filled my heat.
harry moves his fingers faster while wrapping his lips around my clit once more. my hips buck up against him searching for the last bit of stimulation needed before i could let go.
“fuck m’gonna cum harry!” i gasp as he speeds up.
“that’s it pretty girl. let go for me, i wanna taste your sweet mess.” he smirks up at me and adds a third finger. this pushes me over the edge, my body consumed with pleasure. harry helps me ride out my orgasm by lapping at my core gently.
he crawls up my body and hovers over me. “i need to feel you baby. is that okay?” he whispers as he presses kisses to my neck.
i nod and wrap my legs around his hips, pressing my core to the front of his sweats. “please harry.”
harry groans and pushes his bulge against me for some relief. “okay petal. gonna fuck you.” he quickly tugs his sweatpants down and kisses my neck. “ready baby?”
i nod eagerly watching him. he sighs and carefully pushes past my tight entrance. my body eagerly welcomes him as i hold onto harrys shoulders tightly for support.
“oh fuck harry!” i groan as he pushes in all the way. he’s much thicker and longer than i thought he would be. my walls tighten against him tightly as he pushes to the hilt.
“so tight and wet for me.” he sighs and pulls back so it’s just the tip left in. harry moves his hand from my wait to my stomach so it’s resting just below my belly button.
as he pushes back into my cunt his large palm presses down on my stomach. at this angle i’m able to feel all of the veins and ridges decorating his cock. a loud whine slips past my lips as harry continues fucking into me.
he quickly brings a hand to hold over my mouth while the other continues to press down on my stomach. “shh i love hearing your sweet moans baby, but we can’t let my parents here.”
he picks up the pace, and the only sounds heard are the obscene squelching coming from where harry is fucking into me. he changes his angle a little bit and my body instantly floods with pleasure as i gasp.
“there it is.” he smirks and continues pounding into me at that angle. the tip of his cock perfectly hitting my spot as i moan into his hand.
harry moved his hand away from my mouth and brings it down to play with my abused clit. he groans as i clench around him and he picks up the pace.
“so- fucking- tight” he groans and pushes his face into my neck to muffle his moans. his hips continue to snap up into my mine while his fingers move quickly against my bundle of nerves.
i’m so overstimulated from the orgasm before this, so it doesn’t take long for my second to build up. “harry!” i whine as his hips move against mine furiously.
“yeah? gonna cum again for me? that’s good baby, m’gonna cum for you.” he moans against my neck and keeps his quick pace up.
my walls clench around his thick cock tightly as my body finally releases. i bite down onto harry’s shoulder gently to muffle my moans. harry groans out and thrusts a few more times sloppily before letting his release paint my walls.
we both ride out our orgasms slowly for a couple minutes. before harry pulls away shakily and speaks. “we’re doing that again”
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
2 months have past since harry and i first got together. it’s an understatement to say we enjoy each others company. as y/bsf/n said, we’re “fucking like bunnies”
if we weren’t at harry’s house, i was sneaking harry in through my window. luckily, harry’s parents were very chill and always let me come over. i’d really grown to like his mom, sister, and dad. my parents however, had NO knowledge of harry. if they did, i’d be dead.
harry and i are currently cuddled up in my bed at 1am. i always had to wait until my mom and dad are asleep before letting harry in through my window.
so, here we are now, wrapped up in each other whispering about dumb things.
“ugh anyways i hate her bitchass.” im currently complaining to harry about a girl in our class that’s being an ass to me.
“me too.” harry whispers back. his arms wrapped around my waist so im pulled against him. his tight embrace comforts me like nothing else. i can almost forget all the shit i endure at school when i’m with him.
“you don’t even know her.” i giggle as harry presses kisses to my jaw.
“doesn’t matter. i hate anyone who fucks with my girl.”
i roll my eyes and smile at harry’s cheesy comments. he pulls me closer and kisses the top of my head. i cuddle into his chest as he starts talking about other things.
“i’m so obsessed with you baby.” he whispers against my neck making goosebumps travel down my spine.
“i’m obsessed with you too.” i grin and kiss a sweet kiss to harry’s cheek. in all honesty it is much more than that. i can feel it, im very quickly falling in love with harry.
“good, because you’re mine now.” he whispers and kisses my neck.
it was WAY too soon to tell harry i loved him. i mean for fucks sakes, i’ve only known him for a few months. he is just one of the few teenage boys that has ever been truly kind to me.
harry and i continue talking about mindless things. both of us are too wrapped up in each other to realize how late it is.
“WHAT THE FUCK?”
my door is burst open as light pours into the room. i immediately sit up and panic fills my body. my dad and mom stand there looking furious as the see harry sitting there next to me.
“i- uh” i don’t even know what to say in this situation. my parents are NOT easy going people. this is quite possibly, the worst case scenario.
“who the fuck is he?” my mom yells as he sees harry sitting up. my dad is completely dead silent which is even scarier to me.
“i-im sorry- this is harry.” i say quietly.
“harry? oh so you’re bringing random guys into your room?” my mom yells loudly.
“no mom! this isn’t a random guy! this is harry, my boyfriend.” i quickly stand up and stand between my parents and harry. i give harry a look saying ‘don’t talk’
“YOUR BOYFRIEND?” she looks absolutely furious screaming her head off at me. my dad is completely silent and just glaring at me and harry.
“i’m sorry okay? we’ve been together for two months and we really like each other.” my eyes are begging my mom to stop yelling in front of harry.
instead, my dad steps in. “how could you bring a boy into your room? let alone be sleeping in the same bed as him!”
“i’m so sorry. i just really like him and wanted to spend time with him!” harry is quietly watching, not interfering with our argument.
“NO! you cannot see this boy anymore! get him out of my house!” my dad yells and points at harry.
“w-what? daddy please no!” i beg him.
“no! you went behind our backs and brought a boy in our house!”
“that’s because i knew you wouldn’t let me see him! please don’t do this!”
“yeah you’re damn right i wouldn’t let you see him. i don’t want my daughter getting knocked up at 18! you’re not even out of high school yet!”
my eyes prick with tears as i desperately try to defend harry. without thinking, the words slip out.
“but daddy i love him!”
everyone freezes. i feel guilt and embarrassment flood my body as the words spill from my lips. my moms mouth drops as she looks between harry and i. my dads angry face dissapears as he looks at me in disbelief. harry is sitting there with a small smile on his face.
“you what?” my dad looks at me with utter disbelief.
“i- i-,” i hesitate and glance at harry. he looks overjoyed at my words despite the situation. “i love him…”
“you love this kid? why? you’re a teenager y/n! you don’t know shit about love!” my dad says firmly.
fuck it
“yes i do dad! i know that harry makes me 10x happier than anyone else on the planet! i feel so completely happy when we’re together! that’s why i brought him over tonight. i was having a shitty day at school and needed to feel happy for once.”
i let out all my emotions to my parents telling them how much i love harry. “you can’t make me stay away from him! i love him!”
my parents look shocked at everything i say to them. they turn to each other and whisper quietly. i stand there unsure as they talk. harry remains silent as he stares at me with a small smile.
“okay y/n… maybe we’re a bit too strict with you” my mom says quietly. “you’re 18 you can have a boyfriend.”
“r-really?” this was coming from the same woman that wouldn’t even let me have a boys number in my phone until i was 16.
“yes. you deserve to be happy. we’re just looking out for you honey. we don’t want you to make a mistake and end up pregnant at 18.”
i nod and look at them with eyes full of gratefulness. “so i can have harry over to the house now?”
my dad sighs and rubs his forehead before nodding. “just no sex under my roof, okay? i don’t want a grandchild yet.” he glares at harry.
harry nods and finally speaks up. “of course sir. i care for y/n a lot. she’s an amazing person and i plan on taking care of her.”
he looks at my mom and then back to me and harry. “fine. but no more sneaking through the window, got it?” he looks at me sternly.
“yeah of course!” i grin and hug my dad tightly. “thank you.”
“okay y/n… walk him out for the night. we’ll continue this conversation later.”
i nod and pull away. my parents exit the room and head towards their bedroom. i turn back to harry and smile.
harry smiles back and gives me a peck on the forehead.
“i love you too petal.”
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
hope you loved this! i definitely plan on writing more for this story.
(i was a lil high when i wrote this so ignore the bad parts hehe)
- xoxo
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Your older brother Suguru always brought his idiotic best friend from the basketball team around after school. 
He would always get on your nerves. Not only was he loud and annoying, but he was also stupidly attractive. Whenever Satoru was around, you knew that you would not be getting any work done at home.
He somehow knew what effect he had on you. He would wink or blow you kisses when he saw you around the house, but always behind Suguru’s back. If Suguru knew that Satoru was flirting with his younger sister, he would lose his mind. 
Unfortunately for you, procrastination decided to be a real pain and you had a lengthy essay that was due tomorrow morning. 
It was time to fully lock in. The blinds were drawn, your phone was hidden from arms reach and your noise cancelling headphones were in. You were ready for battle.
You could barely hear the knock on your door. You turned around, saying “come in!”
Your older brother peeked his head through the door. “Hey sis. Just letting you know that-“
You nodded, brushing him off. He always gave you a heads up when Satoru was visiting. Satoru was always hanging out with Suguru in his room, almost every day of the week. 
It was a common occurance now, so you didn’t bat an eye when Suguru notified you of someone coming over.
For the next eight hours you were in full focus. Your noise cancelling headphones were expensive, but boy were they a good investment. You couldn’t hear Satoru’s pitchy voice, or his raucous laughter. 
It was now nearly midnight, and you were starving. You made your way to the kitchen, noise cancelling headphones playing music from your phone, when you sensed a pair of eyes staring at you from the living room.
Rather, multiple pairs of eyes. 
You failed to notice that Suguru had invited his entire basketball team over today, instead of just Satoru. 
You startled and dropped a glass cup of water, the entire thing breaking in two in what felt like the loudest possible way.
You were suddenly conscious of the comfortable form fitting shorts that you had outgrown years ago, and the tank top that dipped a little bit too low for comfort that you were wearing. It was even worse now that you were blushing beet red and bending over to scoop the glass up.
Where was your brother when you needed him? He was nowhere to be seen!
“Don’t do that.” Satoru now stood crouching in front of you, his broad shoulders covering you from his teamates veiw. “You’ll hurt yourself.” He swept the shattered glass into a dustpan and brush. After he was done, he gently held your wrists and inspected your hands. “You’re lucky you didn’t cut yourself.” His blue eyes pierced yours. Suddenly his gaze dipped downwards, onto what you were wearing. You felt the colour return to your cheeks immediately. “I-I’m fine.” You snatched your arms out of his grasp. You stood up immediately and he did too, casually trying to cover you up.
“Suguru never told me that his little sister was hot.” Naoya, the captain of the basketball team commented. “If I knew that I’d have hosted more get togethers here.” The rest of the basketball team snickered, and white hot rage turned Satoru’s blue eyes into a stormy grey. “Shut the f*ck up Naoya.” His voice was lethally low, the complete opposite of his usual pitchy keen.
Naoya whistled. “Sorry. I didn’t know she was taken.” 
Satoru glared in silence.
“I-Is she actually your girlfriend?” Naoya bursted into laughter. Condescending, rude laughter that sounded like forks scratching against plates. “So what if she is?” All the anger had dissipated from Satoru’s face. There was now a cool mask of indifference with a hint of playfulness. 
“Seriously? The school playboy Satoru Gojo is dating her?” 
“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” He challenged.
You stood there, face whipping back and forth between Satoru and Naoya. “Hey Satoru!”
Your voice sounded unnaturally stiff. “Why don’t we continue watching The Office in my room? We still haven’t finished off the episode we were on!” Your voice cracked at the word ‘still’, and it looked like Satoru was fighting tremendously hard to keep himself from laughing.
“Sure thing sweetie.”
**
“Okay why the f*ck am i only now hearing from Naoya, f*cking Naoya that you’re dating my sister?”
Suguru was angry.
Murderously, terrifyingly angry.
*planning on making this a fake dating kinda thing, part 2 coming...*
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arieslost · 2 months
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the other papaya | op81
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader (brief pato o’ward x fem!reader)
summary: something something the first five times you hear the name “oscar piastri” and the one time you say it
wc: 3,165
warnings: mention of covid lockdown, a wee bit o’ angst, drinking
masterlist — join my tag list here!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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The first time you heard Oscar Piastri’s name, it was said in contempt.
You knew your boyfriend didn’t hate him, but you also knew that Pato could practically hear the phone ringing with the offer to drive for McLaren in F1 right up until he found out that the seat was going to someone else. To Oscar Piastri. The “kid,” as he so aptly referred to him.
“He’s only two years younger than you,” you admonished him one night, soon after the announcement was made public.
“Exactly. A kid.”
“I’m two years younger than you.” You said, and that made him wrinkle his nose.
“Point taken.”
You would describe your relationship with Pato O’Ward as puppy love. Things between the two of you escalated a little too quickly, as many things in 2020 did. You went from going on a whopping four dates by the end of 2019 to living together for the foreseeable future when everything went on lockdown. Your mother had voiced her concern about it, but if you didn’t live with him you didn’t really have anywhere else to go. Besides, you liked each other so much that it only made sense that you continued to build your relationship in the comfort of his spacious apartment. The two of you settled into a decent rhythm, and you took the time to learn more about motorsport. When he was finally able to hit the track again, you went to every race you could, decked out in papaya, cheering him on no matter what. And you continued to do so even though he lost his chance at driving in F1 to “the kid.”
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The second time you heard Oscar Piastri’s name, it came from the man himself when you ran into him at the 2024 Australian Grand Prix.
It was the first time you felt rather hesitant about going to a race with your boyfriend. Pato was welcomed to the McLaren F1 team as a reserve driver, and that was how you found yourself feeling extremely out of place in the McLaren garage. You met Oscar’s girlfriend before you met him, and while she was kind enough to get you a pair of headphones and offer to sit with you during the race, the entire interaction had you feeling like you should’ve just stayed back at the hotel. All the other WAGs were dressed to the nines, looking effortlessly beautiful, and you were wearing ripped jeans and a jersey with Pato’s number on it, like you always did, even though he wasn’t racing. With Pato busy in a debrief, you were busy just trying to stay out of the way and not stick out like a sore thumb.
“Excuse me,” someone said, and you assumed you were in the way, so you apologized and started moving when the person grabbed your arm to stop you. “No, sorry, I just– hi. You’re Pato’s girlfriend, yeah?”
Your eyes widened when you recognized the man talking to you. “Um… yes, I am.”
“I’m Oscar. Piastri,” he said.
“Yeah, I know,” you nodded, accepting his handshake and telling him your name in return. “Are you here to tell me I need to leave?”
“What? No, of course not. Pato told me you were here, so I wanted to come say hi.”
“Oh.” You could feel your face starting to grow hot, because you really weren’t sure what to do in this situation.
Pato lost a chance at a seat to this guy, and you remembered his disappointment well. But you didn’t expect Oscar to come up to you in a million years.
“That’s really nice of you,” you continued, trying to smile without looking too awkward. “Congrats on getting the seat. You must be pretty talented.”
“Ah, thanks.” He looked at you for a moment, and you looked back. “Anyway, I just wanted to say hi.”
You giggled in spite of yourself. “You said that already.”
“Right, yeah. Well, it was nice to meet you,” he said, hesitantly tacking your name onto the end of his sentence. “Thanks for being here.”
“Nice to meet you too, Oscar. Good luck today.”
Two races later, Pato messaged him to congratulate him on his podium, and you mentioned wanting to thank and congratulate him yourself. You got Oscar’s number, and after his quick response, the conversation died out, just as you expected. You didn’t have anything else to say to him anyway, but soon after, you got a follow request from him on Instagram. You accepted without a second thought– just one papaya supporting another.
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The third time you heard Oscar Piastri’s name, it was when a TikTok showed up on your feed talking about the “shocking split” between him and his girlfriend. You were reasonably surprised; his girlfriend was beautiful and kind, and from an outsider’s perspective they seemed quite happy with each other. The video went on to discuss speculation that his girlfriend was the one who had ended the relationship, and there were pictures of him looking visibly upset at the latest race. You closed the app, feeling like you were massively invading his privacy even though the first thing you saw upon opening Instagram was a statement on his story confirming the breakup. You couldn’t imagine what he was going through.
“Ah, so you saw, too,” Pato said, adjusting his workout clothes as he leaned over your shoulder.
“It’s terrible,” you sighed, shutting your phone off. “They seemed so happy together.”
“High school sweethearts, too. That makes it worse.”
You gave him a look. “You can feel bad for him, y’know.”
“I do!” Pato raised his hands with a laugh. “But if he wants to sit out of a race because of this, I won’t be upset.”
“You’re terrible, get out of here.” You shoved him playfully, and he left with a kiss on your forehead.
The last race weekend before summer break brought you a taste of the heartbreak Oscar went through only a couple months prior.
Pato had been in one of the older cars running some tests, and came home a little later than usual. He didn’t even answer your question of how his day was before he was sitting you down on the couch and looking anywhere but at your face.
“Pato, what’s going on? You’re kind of freaking me out,” you laughed nervously.
“I think we should break up.” He said, face stony.
You blinked. “What?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a little while,” he began, “and I think it’s for the best.”
“How long is ‘a while’?” You asked, shifting away from him as you felt your heart begin to pound.
“Ever since I became a reserve driver.” He confessed, and you scoffed.
“Are you serious right now?”
“This is the closest I’ve ever been to a F1 seat.” He said, like that made breaking up logical.
“Yeah, I know. And you know how I know? Because I’ve been around for years.” You hissed, standing up and walking towards the bedroom. “But I guess that means nothing to you.”
“Don’t be like that,” Pato protested, following close behind. “This is my career. I don’t want to risk anything.”
“Right. Of course.” You nodded, moving about the room to collect as much of your stuff as you could with shaking hands.
The rest of the week went by in a blur. You packed up all your things and took the soonest flight to Australia to try and forget about the fact that Pato had just thrown away years of being together for a fleeting chance at driving a stupid race car.
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The fourth time you hear Oscar Piastri’s name, it’s on the other end of the phone.
The two weeks following your breakup are uneventful and entirely consist of you, the warm Australian sun, and the spare bedroom in your aunt and uncle’s house. You haven’t deleted any of your IndyCar posts, nor have you posted any more. In fact, you haven’t posted anything since the last time you were in Australia, only a few months ago. Your Instagram has become stagnant; a reflection of your real life. You haven’t told many people about your breakup, so you’re surprised when your phone rings. Even more so when you see who it is.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Oscar. Piastri,” he adds his last name like an afterthought, just like he did when he introduced himself in the garage.
“I know,” you say, pushing yourself into a sitting position on your bed. “Caller ID. Although you’re probably the last person I’d expect a call from.”
“Listen, are you not around anymore?” He asks, evidently not in the mood to beat around the bush. “I haven’t seen you, and you haven’t posted about IndyCar or anything.”
“Ah, um, yeah, no, I’m not.” You clear your throat uncomfortably. “Actually, Pato and I broke up. Well, he broke up with me. So, no reason for me to be around, I guess.”
“Oh,” Oscar says, his loud sigh crackling through the microphone. “I figured something was wrong. Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. I’m uh… I’m sorry too. Seemed like you had a good thing going.”
“Thanks. Seemed that way for you, too,” he mumbles. “So… I guess things have really been sucking for both of us lately.”
“Pretty much.” You laugh.
“This is a terrible idea,” he begins after a moment of silence, “but are you in Australia right now?”
You debate lying to him, because it is a terrible idea, and you have a feeling you know what he’s going to say next. You don’t care. “I am.”
“Alright, well, it’s summer break for F1 right now, and to be honest you’re the only person I know that understands what I’ve been going through.”
“Are you asking me to be your wallowing buddy?” You ask.
“Something like that. My plan was pretty much along the lines of drowning our sorrows in alcohol.” You can hear the smile in his voice, and for some reason that does you in.
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The fifth time you hear Oscar Piastri’s name, it’s through a cheap karaoke microphone.
You’ve lost count of how many days you’ve spent with him, and you feel like you’re still a little drunk from the night before when he breaks open a bottle of champagne.
“What is this, a celebration?” You ask, stretching your arms and legs out so you look like a starfish where you lay on the living room floor.
“It’s whatever the fuck we want it to be.” He takes two glasses and pours the champagne out.
You giggle at him while he dramatically sets them both down on the coffee table at your side. “You definitely pregamed before you got here.”
“I did not,” he protests, but you shake your head.
“No, no, you say curse words like that when you’re drunk.”
“Like what?”
“Like, ‘oh my God, this champagne is so fucking good.’” You mock him after taking a sip, and he starts laughing too.
“Fine, you caught me.” He throws his hands up. “I pregamed. But, I walked here, so who cares?”
You’re glad that your aunt and uncle are out for the night, because a few hours and countless glasses of champagne later find the both of you in the attic, discovering a karaoke microphone without a machine to match.
“Screw the machine, we don’t need the shitty machine,” Oscar rolls his eyes, watching you put batteries into the microphone. “We’ll just find something on YouTube. Does it work?”
You flip the switch and hold it up to your mouth. “HELLO? It works.”
You regret putting fresh batteries into it as soon as Oscar gets up to sing. You think that he might not be half bad if he’s sober, but drunk, his singing is absolutely insufferable. You would care if you weren’t equally as drunk as him. He pulls up a karaoke video of Last Friday Night by Katy Perry, only after getting you to swear on the lives of your entire family that you won’t tell anyone what you see or hear. You consider secretly recording him, but the second he starts, you’re practically folded in half from laughing so hard at his antics and the fleeting idea is gone.
He’s so dramatic with every lyric, like he’s trying to act all the words out while he’s singing about a stranger in his bed and pink flamingos in his (nonexistent) pool. When he gets to the part of the chorus talking about taking too many shots, he gestures for you to hand him the champagne bottle. You hand it over immediately and watch as he stops singing entirely to take a long drink straight from the bottle, ignoring how attractive he looks the whole while. You actually think that you’d really like to kiss him. You’re drunk, and you’re heartbroken. You just want to laugh and forget about it all. So when he chokes on the champagne for a moment and flounders to find where he’s supposed to be in the song, you do just that.
The song ends both too soon and not soon enough, and you give him a round of applause, chanting, “Encore!” a few times as he takes a bow.
“I’m Oscar Piastri,” he yells, “and I fucking hate relationships!”
You cheer loudly. “Speak on it!”
“Except I have a problem,” he says, all of a sudden dejected as he flops onto the couch beside you, still speaking into the mic. “I have a biiiig, huuuuge problem.”
“Tell the all-knowing, and she shall answer,” you turn onto your side to face him and reach out to… you don’t remember what you wanted to do. Maybe touch his cheek. Or his nose. Or his lips.
Your hand ends up resting on the top of his head, fingers tangled in the soft strands of his hair.
“I think I might really like you,” he whispers, his words muffled by his lips smushing against the top of the mic. “Which is not good. I mean, it’s good, like, I think you’re amazing, but it’s not good, because I broke up and then you broke up, so we both broke up, but not with each other, with other people, and–”
You cut him off by taking the mic from him with your free hand and switching it off.
“Sorry.” He says, blinking at you slowly. “Do we have to talk about this?”
“We do,” you begin, petting his head. “Eventually. But not now. I am way too drunk to talk about this.”
This makes him start giggling, so you start giggling, and then you’re both cackling and clutching your stomachs.
You want to laugh, and forget about it, and you want to do it every single day with Oscar.
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The first time you say the name Oscar Piastri, it’s while you’re laying in a hospital bed.
You’ve always been notorious for getting easily bruised, but breaking a bone is a first. Especially when it happens in the public eye.
You were only trying to make a cute, aesthetic TikTok showcasing your first race weekend as Oscar’s official girlfriend when you tripped and fractured your ankle in front of half the McLaren team. Not to mention the throng of fans mere feet away.
The two of you didn’t start dating until half a year after his drunken confession, and when you first started going out you had to be very discreet so fans didn’t expose the both of you before either of you were ready. Most of your dates ended up being at your aunt and uncle’s, which had become your home too once you got a job and started really getting yourself together after your breakup. He flew out to see you all the time, and as soon as he suggested that you come with him to the race of the season, you jumped on the opportunity. You didn’t think you’d ever go to a race again, but here you were. You were both happy, and you were both ready.
And now you’re fuming, mentally cursing yourself as you look down at your boot-covered ankle that has now effectively ruined your entire weekend.
Oscar comes rushing into the room, and you hold up a hand.
“Don’t tell me. Do not even tell me.” You shake your head. “Just tell me if it’s somewhat safe to go online or if I should just throw my phone out.”
“What?”
“I know people are talking about it. Oh, no.” Your eyes widen. “No, no. I’ve become a public embarrassment for you. I knew it. It only took me a few hours.” You cover your face with your hands. “Oh, my God… I am so sorry.”
“Again, what?” He asks, prying your hands away. “Baby, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, aside from that,” you gesture to the boot, glaring at it before your eyes shoot back up to him. “Wait a second, how did quali go? Did you do your media stuff already?”
“I’m starting P5. I came here right after, no media.” He rushes out, pulling up a chair so he can sit right next to you and hold your hand. “They’re letting you go, right?”
“Yeah, just have to do some paperwork and get a prescription– why didn’t you go to the media?”
“Because they told me you got hurt? And you needed to be hospitalized?” He says, like it’s obvious.
“Oz, you get fined for that!” You exclaim. “Oh, no, this is so bad! First I embarrass you– no, not just you, probably the entire team, and now you’re here and not there and you’re going to get in trouble… fuck, what if you get fired?!”
“Baby, baby,” Oscar laughs, grabbing both of your hands now. “I’ll get fined, but I’m not gonna get fired just because I skipped media one time. Zak was fine with it, if that makes you feel better.”
You’re still worried, and he can see it in your eyes.
“What’s got you so worked up about this?” He asks softly.
“I just… don’t want to be a risk towards your career.” You say, feeling ashamed that you can still hear Pato’s words from the day he broke up with you. Oscar knows immediately.
“Oh, honey,” he sighs, leaning in and kissing you on the lips, and then your nose. “None of this means anything if I don’t have you.”
You’re still taking it slow, but this is the closest either of you have come to saying “I love you” without saying it, so you pull your hands from his and cup his cheeks to pull him into another kiss.
“Oscar Piastri, you are my whole world.”
Ten minutes later, Lando comes bursting into the room with such aggression that he almost faceplants, and he makes so much noise that a nurse runs into the room looking highly concerned.
So, you laugh, and you forget about it, and you do it with Oscar at your side, where you know he’ll stay for the rest of your lives.
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note: this was a bitch to write. also i was gonna make a layout for this but i really wanted to post it tonight so it is sans layout and was edited like a half hour before it’s scheduled to post. all that being said, i hope u enjoyed!!
my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
dividers by @/saradika
tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever
965 notes · View notes
rollingsins · 8 months
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Quinn Bailey Must Die
P1 | P2 | P3
summary: Quinn Bailey is yours and Tara's man-eating, sexed up, horn-dog roommate. She's cool at first, you think. Until she sets her sights on Tara. 
warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, language.
word count: 6.6k
a/n: set in the all hers universe, just a lil (big) one shot. love u guys, as always let me know your thoughts, always makes my day :))
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Quinn Bailey is - to put it lightly - an absolute pain in your ass. 
New York City is expensive. 
College is expensive. 
And despite your parents' assistance and you and Tara both working part time jobs, it just isn’t feasible for you to get your own place in the city. 
So you’d put an ad in the paper. Found Quinn. She’d seemed fun at first - lively. The type of girl you’d want to be friends with in a new city like this. A tried and true party girl, glimmering like a jewel in a sea of dreary faces. 
But her sparkle had lasted all of three weeks. 
First it was the dishes. 
She left them piled up in the sink, unattended. For days, sometimes weeks. 
A little pet peeve of yours, but it wasn’t anything major. 
It had nothing on the men. 
They were like a revolving door. An entire roster of bodies to keep her warm. 
Short men. Tall men. Thin men, muscular men. Men with beards. Men without. Pretty men, sometimes, even ugly men. 
If he lived in the tri-state area and had a penis - likely he’d seen the inside of your apartment (and your roommate). 
But really, you’re not in the position to complain. 
You and Tara weren’t exactly known for having quiet sex, and of all the people you’d lived with, Quinn seemed to mind it the least. 
Maybe, looking back, that should have been the first warning sign. 
“I don’t know,” Quinn sighs one night over a glass of wine. Tara’s curled up in your arms, nursing her own glass as you play with her hair, “Sometimes I think I should just give them all up.” 
“Men?” You ask, furrowing your brow. You laugh a little at the thought, “I don’t know Quinn, outside of partying, men are your biggest hobby.” 
It’s not intended as a slight, and Quinn doesn’t take it as one. She throws a coy smile your way. 
“I don’t know, you two have just got me thinking lately,” She says, “I’ve never considered girls before. I mean, I like dick. A lot. But maybe dick isn’t everything.” 
“Poetic,” You say, an eyebrow raised. 
Men or women, it didn’t really matter who Quinn bought home. You’d have to wear your noise canceling headphones regardless. 
But Tara’s shifting in your arms, sitting up. Then, she narrows her eyes at Quinn.  
Like she’s scanning her for a potential threat. 
Although therapy had quietened some of Tara’s more jealous tendencies, it hadn’t gotten rid of them completely. Now, instead of stabbing - she chooses staring. 
You rub her arm, your quiet signal there are no threats here. 
“Besides,” Quinn says, throwing her hair back, “A chick can just strap one on, right? And it never goes soft. Maybe that’s an upgrade.” 
Tara’s tense against you. 
Quinn looks over at her, and suddenly notices the death glare she’s receiving. She pinches her eyebrows, a little confused. 
“What’s got you all worked up?” Quinn asks, with another flick of her hair. Her eyes widen, “Oh? You think I’m trying to make a play for your girl?” 
She leans back and lets out a loud laugh. 
“Chill Tara, if I was going to go for either of you, it wouldn’t be her.” 
And then it’s your turn to stare. 
Your hand freezes over Tara’s arm. A hot, familiar feeling of jealousy seeps through you, settles deep within your bones. 
Quinn catches your gaze and rolls her eyes. 
“Girls,” She says, exasperated, “You’re not the only pussy-lickers in town. Relax, okay?”
Tara leans back into you, seemingly placated. 
Quinn tilts her head, and downs the rest of her wine. She picks up her phone to call some other nameless man, no doubt to terrorize the two of you within the next half an hour. 
The conversation is over. 
But the jealousy bubbling under your skin doesn’t simmer down. And suddenly,  it’s the only thing you can think about. 
-
“What did she mean by that?” You agonize to Liv and Chad, a little later. 
You’re in the NYU quad, picking at your salad with a plastic fork. Tara’s in class, giving you more than enough time to stew on the conversation with Quinn. 
Chad slurps on his milkshake, seemingly unbothered. 
“She was just being friendly, YN, I wouldn’t read into it.” Says Chad, mouth open and full of food. 
Liv turns to him. Smacks his arm, a little too hard. 
“Friendly?” She says, voice shrill, “Friendly?” 
Chad blinks back at her, but she’s turning to you.  
“YN, she was not being friendly, don’t listen to him. Boys are so stupid.” 
“Hey-“ Interjects Chad, but Liv ignores him. She takes your arm. 
“She’s making a play for Tara, YN,” She says, a little urgently, “Girls do this. We like to play with our food before we eat it. She was scoping out Tara’s reaction before she put the moves on her for real.” 
You furrow your brow. 
“You think?” 
“I know,” Says Liv, “How do you think I got Chad?” 
Chad looks over to her, a little owlish. 
“Huh?” He says, creasing his forehead, “I asked you out, babe.” 
Liv shoots him a look. 
“You asked me out after I spent two weekends at your house asking for Mario Kart lessons.” 
Chad’s eyes widen. 
“You said that was so you could beat your brother!” 
Liv gives you a look. 
“Women are masterminds, YN. Watch the fuck out.” 
-
Liv’s comments ring in the back of your mind for the rest of the day. 
Now that you think about it, Quinn had been lounging about the house lately in scantily clad outfits. 
Sleep shorts that rose almost up to her hips. Tiny tank tops that were almost see through. She giggled a little too hard at Tara’s jokes, gushed over Tara’s cooking as if Tara was Gordon Ramsey himself. 
You’re starting to see it. 
Quinn liked her conquests. 
Men were easy, women a little harder - but for a girl who liked to conquer, who better than Tara? 
Your sweet, loving, loyal and devoted girlfriend. 
Prying Tara away from you wouldn’t be child’s play. 
Truly the Mount Everest of conquests. 
“What’s wrong baby?” Tara asks you a little later, after you’d spent half the night glaring at Quinn. 
She’d been traipsing around all afternoon in a pair of black panties and an old t-shirt, an outfit that wouldn’t have made you think twice about it a few days ago. 
But it’s different now. 
Liv’s words ring loud in your head, “Women are masterminds, YN.” 
You don’t respond, instead dropping a soapy pot to the countertop and watching as Quinn disappears into her bedroom, her phone pressed to her ear. 
Tara snakes her arms around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. 
“Babe?” Tara prompts. 
“Nothing,” You mumble. You’re in your own head now, half afraid if you say it out loud it will become true. 
You feel Tara’s pout against your shoulder. 
“Something’s wrong, you barely said anything when I tried to get you to watch Saw III,” She says, turning you in her arms. 
She raises an eyebrow to punctuate her point. 
“And you hate gore movies.” 
“I like movies that make you happy,” You lie. 
Tara furrows her brow. 
“Okay, something is definitely wrong,” She says. She stands on her tip toes and presses the softest kiss to your cheeks, “Tell me babe, what is it?” 
You bite your lip. 
Tara is your girlfriend, you reason after a moment of hesitation, and if anyone were to understand jealousy - it would be her. 
You sigh and loop your arms around Tara’s waist. 
“Is Quinn… do you think she’s acting weird?” 
Tara frowns. 
“No weirder than usual.” 
“It’s just…” you chew your lip, “I think she might.. be into you, babe.” 
Tara shoots you a look. 
“I don’t think so,” She says. She leans up and presses a kiss to your lips, “She has a pretty solid roster of dudes to keep her entertained.” 
She brushes a stand of hair out of your face, “Is that what’s bothering you, baby? You know you have nothing to worry about. I only have eyes for you.” 
It placates you for only a moment. 
Of course you don’t have anything to worry about. Tara adores you. Tara’s killed for you. Tara loves you with every fiber of her being. 
It’s just… 
Quinn is pretty. So pretty. 
Tara had fallen hard and fast for you, who’s to say she couldn’t fall the same way for someone else? 
And then the dread is back. 
“It’s just… Liv said-“ 
Tara groans. 
“Babe, don’t worry about what Liv has said. She barely knows the days of the week.” 
“But she knows how to get guys,” You say, a little pointed. 
Tara tilts her head. Her eyes are warm, the softest smile on her lips. 
“I’m not a guy,” Tara promises. She nuzzles her nose against yours, “Quinn could parade around here naked doing backflips and I wouldn’t look twice at her. You know that, babe.” 
You do know that. 
And so you let Tara press warm kisses into your neck and drag you back to the bedroom. 
Make sure to moan a little louder than usual just to remind Quinn exactly who Tara belongs to. 
-
It doesn’t work. 
Because of course, why would it work? 
The barrage of men flitting in and out of Quinn’s room comes to a screeching halt. She’s celibate for almost a week, focusing all her sexual energy on your girlfriend. 
It’s subtle, in the masterful kind of way Liv described. 
“Man,” She sighs loudly, one morning from her spot at the kitchen counter, “Tara, do you think you could help me on this paper for film class? I have to write a paper on iconic women in horror.” 
Tara springs to action, charging away from you like this is her sole purpose in life: to share her catalog of benign horror knowledge to any pretty girl who looks her way. 
You fold your arms, unhappily. 
“Start with Ellen Ripley,” Tara commands, before she even sits down. Quinn begins typing, madly. Tara pulls up a chair next to Quinn’s, leaning in a respectful distance to peer down at Quinn’s screen.  
“Signorney Weaver’s impact on horror is maybe one of the things that made me interested in horror to begin with.”
“I didn’t know that,” Quinn coos. She touches Tara’s arm, only slightly, leaning in until their shoulders brush, “That’s so cute, Tara.” 
Tara draws back, clearing her throat. 
“When you’re done with Sigourney, maybe touch on Jamie-Lee-Curtis.” 
Quinn blinks over at her, eyes round, like an innocent doe. 
You know better. 
Your eyes narrow as you stand, reaching for your purse. 
“Baby,” You remind Tara, leaning over to touch her back, “We need to get groceries today. Before Sam comes to visit.”
Quinn’s schoolgirl act drops immediately. Her eyes frost over slightly as she looks over at you, only the tiniest twinge of irritation apparent. 
“Maybe you could do that later, YN?” She asks, voice tilted, “I have to get this paper done before tonight.” 
“Sorry,” You flash her the mildest smile, not sorry at all, “Tara’s sister is coming all the way from California. We need to get the place ready, right babe?”
Tara nods, turning to Quinn to shrug.  
“Google should be able to help,” She says, scooting off her chair and grabbing her coat, “Carrie’s a great film too, if you’re in a pinch.”
“Well, maybe you can help me when you get back?” Quinn asks, a slight pout on her lip as she looks at Tara. 
Your eyes narrow, but Tara nods, helpfully. 
“Sure.” 
-
Naively, you’d hoped Quinn would get bored with this little game she’d started. 
Her attention span is short, you’d reasoned, as soon as she’d figured out Tara isn’t returning any of her flirty looks or comments, she’d get bored. 
You’d been wrong. 
If anything, Tara’s lack of interest only seems to spur Quinn on more. 
Most of your classes are in the mornings, Tara’s in the afternoon. Tara walks you to class, leaves you with a soft kiss and an “I love you”, but you know Quinn doesn’t work until the evenings, and it’s just her and Tara alone in that tiny little apartment for hours on end. 
So you toil in your classes. Imagine the worst. 
Tara and Quinn, sitting side by side, watching horror movies. Quinn touches her arm, then her thigh, leaning in to kiss her. 
Tara bats her away, most times you think about it. But sometimes she doesn’t. Sometimes she lets herself be kissed. Sometimes she lets Quinn touch her, undress her. Fuck her. 
And those sometimes become all you can think about. 
This is a new challenge, one that has rarely surfaced in your relationship. 
Tara is so enamored with you, most people don’t even bother attempting to seduce her. But Quinn isn’t most people, she’s persistent and pretty and maybe Tara isn’t a guy, but that doesn’t mean she can’t fall for the same traps a lot of them do. 
A sticky hot, honey-trap by the name of Quinn Bailey. 
“What are you doing?” You ask, a little stern when you walk into the apartment that afternoon. Tara’s curled up onto the couch, blanket wrapped around her. Quinn’s hovering over her, the back of her hand pressed against Tara’s forehead. 
A prickle settles down the back of your spine. Your jaw clenches. 
But Tara doesn’t even look over, just nuzzles herself deeper into her blanket. 
“Tara isn’t feeling well, poor baby.” Quinn coos. 
You drop your bag, ignore the rageful little demon in you that wants to bat Quinn’s hand away and fall to your girlfriend's side. The tip of Tara’s nose is red, and her lips are chapped. As she blinks up at you, you notice her eyes are hazy. 
“Honey,” You say, all thought of Quinn gone as you press your lips to Tara’s cheek, “Why didn’t you call?” 
“It’s nothing, just a cold,” Says Tara, but she curls into your side anyway. You press a gentle kiss to her clammy forehead and rub her arm. Quinn disappears into the kitchen, returning with a small bowl. 
“I made her some tea,” Says Quinn, “And some soup from scratch.” 
You blink up at her. You’ve never seen Quinn cook anything in her life. She’s all Deliveroo and fruit roll ups and toast. But the kitchen sink is awash with stray noodles and dirty pots. The smell of soup lingers. 
“Thanks Quinn,” Tara murmurs, reaching out to take the bowl from her hands, “You didn’t have to do that.” 
The angry, jealous demon is back. Quinn’s smile is unsettling, almost triumphant. 
As if she’s out-girlfriend-ed you. 
You swallow the urge to punch her in the throat. 
“No, you didn’t.” You say, warily, “Tara’s allergic to MSG, you didn’t put any of that in it, did you?” 
Quinn shakes her head, her smile coy. 
“All natural, only the best for our girl.” Quinn says, and then squeezes Tara’s shoulder. 
You glare as she cleans up the dirty plates and contemplate homicide for the rest of the evening. 
-
When Tara’s feeling better, you’ll bring it up, you reason with yourself the next morning. 
Quinn Bailey is becoming a pest, a horned up sex-pest determined to get her claws in your girlfriend. 
It has to stop. 
The solution? 
This is where you’re a little stuck. You don’t know the solution. Strangling Quinn sounds great on paper, but not so much in practice. 
Dead people don’t pay rent, that’s the only thing you know for sure.
You contemplate this over the next couple of days, between wrestling a hot water bottle for Tara out of Quinn’s hands, and almost jogging down to the corner store at the end of your block to beat Quinn for the tylenol. 
Tara’s such a baby when she’s sick, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think she’s starting to enjoy this. Two women fawning over her, competing for who can nurse her the best. 
And the worst part is, Quinn knows exactly what she’s doing and she wants you to know it. 
She doesn’t say it, not outright, too smart to play her hand too quickly. 
She grins as she spoonfeds Tara some leftover soup, flashes you a look as she dabs Tara’s sweaty forehead with a damp cloth. 
She raises an eyebrow at you as Tara croaks out to her, asking for more tissues. 
It makes you stew. 
It makes you want to grab the kitchen knife out of the top draw and slam it through her stupid neck.
It makes you want to grab her by the hair and throw her out of the window of your seventh story apartment. 
But you resist. 
Let her think she’s winning. 
It’ll make the victory you claw from her hands all the more sweet. 
Tara’s feeling better a few days later, and with her recovery comes the first taste of victory. 
Quinn’s making dinner in the kitchen - her newfound passion being culinary for your girlfriend. She hums a little, flitting between batting her eyelashes at Tara and shooting knowing glances in your direction. 
“Tara,” She says, just as she’s about to pour the tomato paste into the pasta “I can’t get this jar open. Can you help me?” 
Tara’s busy with her laptop, but she moves over regardless. She touches your shoulder lightly as she passes, and reaches out to take the jar from Quinn’s hand. 
It pops open immediately. You roll your eyes. 
Quinn beams, and as you look up, she’s running her hand over your girlfriend’s bicep. 
“You’re so strong,” She flirts, brazenly, “Thanks Tara.” 
Tara moves back to her laptop, unperturbed. 
When it comes to attention towards her she has always been oblivious. You let out a growl so low, no-one but you hears it. 
“Dinner’s up, Tara,” Quinn says, a few moments later, pulling out a couple of plates. 
You peer down at your book, suddenly very interested in the words. When Quinn had asked you your plans for the evening - grocery bags in hand - you’d neglected to tell her Tara had asked you out to dinner. 
Tara blinks over at her, a little confused. 
“Dinner?” She asks, closing the lid of her laptop. 
“Yeah,” Says Quinn with a sickly smile, “I made your favorite.” 
Tara tilts her head, “Oh. Sorry, Quinn, we’re going out tonight. I didn’t realize you were cooking for us.” 
Quinn stares a moment. 
“That’s fine,” She says, voice a little clipped, “Only, I asked YN and she said you guys were around.” 
You close your book and stand, grabbing your coat. 
“Oh yeah,” You say, smacking your hand to your head, as if you’d suddenly forgotten, “Dinner. I am so sorry, Quinn. Gosh, I am so forgetful sometimes.” 
Tara peers over at you, a little confused. 
Oblivious idiot when it comes to girls, yes, but not with you. You see the question in her eyes and neglect to answer it. 
Quinn’s eyes harden, but she doesn’t dare give up the jig. Not in front of Tara.
“It’s fine,” She says, “Maybe you can have it for lunch.” 
“Yeah, maybe,” Tara says, a little absent minded as you wrap her jacket around her shoulders. 
You can tell she feels bad by the way she lingers. 
“We haven’t had a date night in a while, that’s all,” Tara explains. She wraps an arm around your waist and squeezes your hip, “Besides, I owe this one a dinner for taking such good care of me these last couple of days.” 
She presses a soft kiss to your lips, her brown eyes warm and shimmering. 
You can’t help the smile that snakes across your lips. 
Quinn crosses her arms, looking unhappy. 
“I seem to remember taking pretty good care of you,” She says, drawing Tara’s gaze, “Maybe you should be taking me out to dinner, too.” 
Tara’s eyebrows knit in confusion. She looks at you, a little helpless, like she’s suddenly aware she’s caught in a chess match she wasn’t aware she was playing. 
Bless her. 
Your poor, sweet, unsuspecting girlfriend. 
You squeeze her hand, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. 
“Did you get the feeling Quinn’s mad at me?” She asks, “Maybe we should have invited her to dinner. She did make me a lot of soup.” 
You tilt your wine glass to your lips, needing the rush of the alcohol to get you through this conversation. 
When you set it down, Tara’s blinking back at you, with wide, brown eyes. 
“Remember what we talked about a couple of weeks ago, babe?” You say, “About my conversation with Liv.” 
Tara nods. 
“And have you noticed it, this past couple of weeks?” You prompt, “Quinn flirting with you?” 
Tara tilts her head. 
“No.” 
“Tara, she touched your arm and called you strong,” You say, pinching the bridge of your nose. Quinn had gone to work earlier that day, blown a kiss goodbye to Tara as she’d left. 
Made sure you’d seen it. 
Tara shrugs, “I’ve been in the gym, babe, I’m getting stronger.”
She flexes her bicep. 
“Look, babe, that’s all muscle.” She says, proudly. 
“That’s not the point, Tara,” You say, “She’s flirting with you. She’s been flirting with you all week.” 
Tara frowns. 
“She has?” She asks, looking a little perplexed. 
Then, she pouts. 
“So she was just complimenting my lasagne because she wanted to sleep with me?” She says, looking put out, “I thought she really liked my new recipe.” 
“Forget about the lasagne, Tara, this is not okay.” You say, “How would you feel if she were hitting on me?”
Tara frowns. 
“Not good,” She admits, “Bad. Really, really bad.” 
You sigh, dropping your fork onto your plate. 
“She’s going to have to go,” You tell Tara, “If she can’t respect our relationship, she can get the fuck out.” 
Tara bites her lip. 
“Okay, babe,” She says, a little wary, “It’s just… rent is due next month and I don’t know how easy it’s going to be to replace her.”
She squeezes your hand, a little hasty as she sees the look on your face. 
“I’ll talk to her,” Tara says, leaning up to kiss you, “I’ll remind her I’m taken and not interested. And if she still tries it after that, she goes. How’s that, babe?” 
-
Tara’s talk with Quinn happens a little later. 
You climb into bed, head tilted as you hear the quiet murmur of their voices down the hall. It doesn’t sound heated, and you hear Quinn giggling as she tells Tara goodnight. 
You frown as Tara enters the room. 
“It’s just a misunderstanding, baby,” She says as she climbs into bed, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “She doesn’t like me. She told me she’s just been a little clingier than usual because we’re her only friends.” 
“Babe-“ You start with a huff, ready to climb out of bed but Tara’s hands grip around your waist. 
“I know, I know, babe.” She assures, pressing another quick kiss to your neck, “I know you think it’s all bullshit so I told her straight up. I told her I’m in love with you and if she tries anything we’ll kick her straight out.” 
You frown, turning in her arms, “Really?” 
“Really.” Tara says, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, “And I promise to keep my distance, okay babe? She can flirt until the cows come home, it’s going to fall on deaf ears.” 
She snuggles into your chest, soothing your hammering heartbeat with a kiss. 
“I love you. Only you.” 
-
True to her word, Tara goes out of her way to avoid Quinn. 
Gone are their cozy little sessions on the couch watching horror movies. Tara refuses Quinn’s cooking, turns down each of Quinn’s requests to hang out, or help her with homework, or whatever other brainless task Quinn can think of to get them to spend time together. 
The rental market is fucked, you discover in the interim. 
No way can you and Tara afford to move out, and even if Quinn did leave, it could take months to replace her. 
“No,” Mindy says, point blank when you ask her, “Not unless you and Tara swear to a vow of celibacy.” 
You sigh, unhappily. 
“Great,” You say, slumping back into your seat, “We’re going to be stuck with her forever.” 
Mindy looks over at you, taking a little pity on you. 
“Why don’t you ask Chad and Liv?” She suggests, “They won’t be able to hear you fuck over Liv’s soap operas anyway.” 
“I already asked,” You say, voice gloomy, “They’re in a two year contract.” 
Mindy shoots you a sympathetic smile. 
“You’ll find someone,” She says, “You just need to put some feelers out there.” 
And so you do. 
You spend the morning in class writing up the ad. You’ll put in the paper tomorrow, you figure. 
When you get home, ready to avoid Quinn and spend a night snuggling in bed with Tara, Tara’s already at the door. 
“Hey babe,” Tara says, bouncing up to greet you with a kiss. She smiles, lowering her voice, “Missed you. Wanna shower with me?” 
You smile and kiss her. 
“You know we can’t,” You say, regretfully, “Last time we used up all the hot water.” 
“So let’s have a cold shower,” She suggests, her smile turning into a leer, “I’ve got other ways to warm you up.” 
“Izzie, how are you? It’s been ages!” Quinn sounds from the living room. Your smile drops - you didn’t realize she was home. Tara notices your face shift, and rubs your hip, comfortingly. 
“She’s been good, babe, I promise,” Tara says, “Are you sure you don’t want to shower with me?” 
“I’ll start dinner,” You say, leaning in to kiss her quickly, “You go, baby.” 
Quinn’s in the living room, lounging across the couch when you enter. 
“Yeah, I’ve never done it before,” Says Quinn. If she’s noticed you in the kitchen, she doesn’t acknowledge you. She kicks her shoes off and lays back into the couch, twirling her hair between her fingers. 
“I just can’t stop thinking about it. You know? I really want to try it.” 
You pull a few potatoes from the bag and pull out a knife. 
Just a little while longer, you think, trying to stop yourself from glancing over. Just a few more weeks of her and then you’d never have to see her again. 
Quinn looks over, catching your eye. 
As if she can tell you’re thinking about her. 
And then, she smiles. 
“I met a guy last night, took him home because he looked a little bit like her. Dark hair, dark eyes, short.” She says, her voice dropping to a quiet murmur, “Fucked his brains out imaging it was her on top of me. Inside me. And she will be. Soon.” 
She’s looking right at you. Her voice is a low taunt, daring you to take the bait. 
And you fall for it. 
Hook, line and sinker. 
You slam the knife to the kitchen counter, cheeks flushing red. 
“That’s it,” You growl as you launch at her, “You’re fucking dead, do you hear me?” 
Quinn stares a moment, her jaw slacking. 
As if she hadn’t realized her taunting would finally come to fruition. 
In the form of you launching to grab at the end of her hair. 
You tug at it, hard, determined to make the end of your fist meet the slant of her chin. She squeals, dropping her phone as you tug her towards you. 
“YN,” She cries, “Stop it, you’re fucking crazy-” 
“You think this is funny?” You growl, letting go of her hair to shove her back against the couch. You swing at her - and miss - and you know you must look crazed. All wild eyes, red-faced, three weeks of taunting finally setting you over the edge, “ You think trying to sleep with my girlfriend is a game?” 
“Tara!” Quin screams as you launch at her once more, “Tara, help!” 
Tara’s name on Quinn’s lips - if possible, just makes you angrier. You lunge over the couch, but she stands, squealing as she ducks your advances. 
You hear the bathroom door slam, and a flash of dark hair before you turn to see Tara, soaking wet, towel pressed around her torso. Her hair is soapy with shampoo and she looks dismayed as she looks at the sight in front of her. 
Quinn screaming like a child and you feral. Grabbing for her with all your might. 
“Baby?” She says, sounding scandalized, “What are you doing?” 
Quinn lets out a sob. Teary-eyed, she barrels over to Tara and stands behind her, grabbing at Tara’s arms as if she’s her knight in shining armor. 
“She’s attacking me, Tara,” Quinn blubbers out through her crocodile tears, “Make her stop, please.” 
“Oh, give it a rest, would you?” You say, voice harsh, “Tears? Really? Why don’t you tell Tara what you were saying about her on the phone, huh? Why don’t you be honest for once in your fucking life and tell her what you’ve been trying to do this entire time.” 
“I was talking about a girl from my Chemistry class,” Quinn says, as if you’re crazy, “Her name is Charlotte, I wasn’t talking about Tara.” 
“Oh, bullshit,” You scoff, “Just admit it. You’ve been all over Tara from day one.” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you crazy bitch,” Quinn says, “Look, just because you’re insecure, doesn’t mean I’m trying to sleep with your girlfriend.” 
“Enough,” Growls Tara. She wrenches her hand away from Quinn, turning to round on her. The anger within you dissipates slightly. You swallow as you’ve realized Quinn has inadvertently awoken The Rage. 
“Don’t you dare talk to her like that,” Tara says, her voice hot, “Don’t you fucking dare.” 
Quinn blinks at her. 
“Tara, it’s fine,” You say, hurriedly, “Babe, leave it.” 
And as much as you want to see Quinn get punched in the face, you don’t want The Rage to be the one to do it. 
You’d paid for too much therapy to see that fucker unleashed again. 
“Apologize,” Tara demands, her eyes flashing, “Apologize to her now.” 
You reach for Tara’s hand, tug her back towards you, out of Quinn’s reach. Her heart is racing,  her shoulders tight. You press your lips to her shoulder in an effort to soothe her. 
Quinn’s face contorts. You half think she’s about to spit right in your face. Maybe take a swing at you of her own. But then her face softens. 
“I’m sorry, YN,” She says, voice silky sweet, “It really was a misunderstanding. I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I was trying to take your girlfriend from you. I’m not, I promise.” 
She sounds sincere, but you see right through her. 
“Alright,” Tara says, though her shoulders are still tight, “Good. Now I’m going to finish my shower, and the two of you are not going to kill each other. Right?” 
Quinn nods, solemnly. 
“Bedroom,” You tell Tara, “Now.” 
-
“She’s going,” Is the first thing you say as Tara shuts the door. You’re pacing back and forth, your skin burning hot and red, “She’s fucking gone, Tara. I mean it this time. I don’t care if we have to sleep on Mindy’s couch for the next three years, I am not spending another second with her-” 
Tara rubs her eyes. They’re a little red, stained with unwashed shampoo. 
“Baby, why don’t you sit down for a bit?” She suggests, “Look at you, you’re all worked up.” 
You turn to stare her down, anger flashing through your features. 
“She was talking about fucking you, Tara,” You hiss, “Right in front of me. She was talking about how she wanted you inside her.” 
Tara moves a little closer, trying to touch your arm. You shake her off to continue your pacing. 
“You’re mine,” You seethe, “I don’t know what part of that is so hard for her to understand.” 
“Baby-” Tara starts. 
“You’re not talking me out of this, Tara,” You snap, “I want her gone. Tonight.” 
Tara catches your arm. She draws you in for a long kiss. 
She’s trying to settle you down. 
It works.  
“I’m yours,” She says, softly, “Like I already told you, you don’t have to worry about her.” 
“You promised, Tara,” You say, voice agonized, “You promised if she tried anything else she’d be gone. And I swear to god, Tara - if you try to take her side-“  
Tara shushes you with another kiss. 
Then she draws back, her voice soft. 
“Of course I’m not going to take her side, sweetheart,” Tara says, “I’m your girlfriend. I’m always on your side. She’s going. You don’t have to ask twice.” 
This relaxes you a little. Tara presses another lingering kiss to your lips. 
“Like hell we’re sleeping on Mindy’s couch, though,” Tara says, crinkling her brow, “Sam can lend us the money. She won’t mind.” 
Sam might mind. 
But it’s really the least of your worries. 
“Thank you,” You say, sighing as you lean into Tara’s chest. 
Tara squeezes your shoulders. 
“Let me finish my shower,” She says, “And then I’ll talk to her.” 
She eyes you, warily. 
“Maybe you should take a walk or something, babe,” She says, after a moment of hesitation. She brushes your cheek, “You’re all red in the face.” 
You frown. 
“If you think I’m leaving you here with that sexed-up-piranha-” You start with a growl, and Tara draws her arms back around your shoulders. 
“Alright, alright,” She concedes, “It’s okay, babe, we’ll do it together.” 
But by the time Tara’s out of the shower, Quinn is long gone. 
You spend the night seething, not even Tara’s gentle kisses enough to coax you out of your mood.
In the morning, you hunt through the apartment like a lion hungry for its prey but she’s nowhere in sight. 
She’s stupid enough to try you, but not so stupid enough to hang around for the fallout. 
When you head off to class, Tara reassures you with a gentle squeeze of your hand.
“She’ll be back here at some point,” Tara says, “As soon as I see her I’ll tell her to pack her bags.”
Economics flashes by in a rage-filled trance. You don’t even bother with your marketing paper. You’re worked up. 
You just want her gone. 
And so you skip the rest of your morning classes and head home.
You don’t bother smiling at the doorman, fish your keys out of your pocket in a grump. 
When you get to the door, you tilt your key in the lock, fiddling around to pry the door open. 
And then you hear it. 
A cry - it’s Tara, and then you hear Quinn. She’s squealing again. You blink. Your mind runs rampant with the possibilities. 
Tara with her knife, plowing through Quinn with the kind of ire only The Rage can bring. 
Tara grunts, and it’s familiar. Your stomach lurches. You might be sick. 
You know that grunt. 
The indicator Tara might be plowing Quinn in a much different fashion. 
Betrayal sinks deep within your veins. You fumble with the door, almost pry it off its hinges in your effort to barge through it. 
It swings open, and the lump in your throat grows with the thought of what you might find on the other side of the door. 
But what you see isn’t what you expect. 
You blink. 
Nothing could have prepared you for the sight in front of you. 
“Tara,” You hiss as your jaw drops, “What are you doing?” 
Tara has Quinn in a firm grip. Her legs are wrapped tight around Quinn’s waist, she has Quinn’s head between her arms in a chokehold. Quinn’s eyes are wide. She struggles desperately against Tara’s grip, eyes bulging as she tries to wrangle her way out. 
The scene in front of you would be comical, if it weren’t real. 
But it’s very real. 
Quinn looks over to you the moment Tara does. 
The sound of your voice is her escape. 
Tara turns to you, grip lessening only slightly as she realizes your presence. Her brown eyes widen, the way they do when she knows she’s in trouble. 
Quinn pulls herself out of Tara’s grip with a heavy gasp, almost shoving Tara to the floor. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Quinn says, voice high as she stands, “Are you actually serious right now?” 
“Explain, Tara,” You say, voice flat, “Now.” 
Tara looks over to you, eyes wide. She splutters as she speaks. 
“She tried to kiss me, babe,” Tara says, voice aghast, “She tried to kiss me and I didn’t know what else to do.” 
Quinn’s breathing heavily. 
She’s scary like this. Thundering over Tara’s tiny frame like she might snap her in two. 
“I throw myself at you and your first reaction is karate?” Quinn says to Tara. Her eyes are wild. She’s pissed, “What the hell is wrong with you?” 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Tara fires back, “I have a girlfriend.” 
You throw your bag to the ground. The heavy, unsettled feeling that’s stayed with you for the last three weeks is boiling. If Quinn doesn’t leave now, there’s no telling what you’ll do next. 
“Get out,” You tell Quinn, “You don’t live here anymore. Get your shit and go.” 
Quinn doesn’t move. 
“Get out,” You insist, “Before I kill you myself.” 
Quinn shoots an angry look at Tara, before redirecting it at you. 
“Fine,” She says, “You two deserve each other. Fucking Jackie Chan and Princess Prissy-”
“Out.” You snap as she grabs her purse. 
She shoots you an angry glare. 
“You can forget about rent,” She sneers, “And good luck finding someone else to live in this shitty apartment.” 
Your palms are sweating as she slams the front door shut. 
Tara looks up at you, eyes still wide, a little sheepish as you close in on her. 
“I didn’t kiss her babe, I swear,” Tara promises, leaning up to grab your hands, “She leaned in and I grabbed her before she could get close.” 
“I know you didn’t, babe,” You say after a long moment. Your voice softens. You brush her dark hair out of her eyes, “I know.” 
She’s quiet a moment. 
“I’m sorry that we didn’t kick her out sooner,” She says, “I really did just think she was trying to be my friend.” 
You sigh. Tilt your face to hers. 
“I know, babe,” You say, then you snort, “I can’t believe you put her in a headlock. Sam’s going to love that.” 
Tara pouts.
“She deserved it,” She says, “And speaking of Sam…” 
She looks up at her, eyes shimmering. 
“I talked to her about the rent,” Tara murmurs after a moment, “She agreed to help us out.” 
“Oh?” You say. A spark of hope sears deep within your chest. 
Tara bites her lip, “There’s a catch, though. She’s going to come live with us until we find a new roommate.” 
“Oh.” You say with a frown. 
“You’re not mad, are you?” Tara asks, a little hesitant, “I’d tell her no, but we’re really in a pinch, babe.” 
“It’s fine,” You say, after a moment, “I don’t mind living with Sam.” 
Tara hums. She leans in close against you. 
“And hey,” You nudge her, trying to keep the mood light, “At least I don’t have to worry about Sam trying to get into your pants.” 
Tara wrinkles her nose. 
You laugh. 
Lean down to kiss her, deep. 
Fuck you Quinn Bailey, you can’t help but think. 
You hope she enjoyed her little game.
Because when it comes to Tara, you never lose.
1K notes · View notes
xxoxobree · 9 months
Text
I ❤️ My Boyfriend
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Miles G x Fem!Reader
Summary: You Give Miles a Haul of your new buys.
WARNINGS: None.
A/n: DONT STEAL MY FICS‼️ No Repost , If you “recreate it” don’t make it too obvious please be original be you!!
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You walked into your room, exhausted from carrying all your heavy bags. You let out a sigh and dropped them onto the floor breaking into a huge smile. You had just returned from a much-needed shopping spree. You carefully picked up each bag, one by one, and emptied their contents onto your bed.
You held up a pink graphic baby tee. "Ohhh, this one is definitely my favorite buy! Miles would love this. He thinks he's a fashionista." You said laughing picking up your phone to call him. As he answered, he set up his phone so that you could see him while he played the game.
"Wassup ma?"
"Miles, you need to pause the game,"
"Babe, we've been over this a million times. I can't... gahhhhh!!!" Miles said, frustrated as he slammed his hands on the table.
You couldn't help but smirk at his gamer rage. "You better not break Mrs. Morales' furniture," you teased.
Miles rested his game controller down and took off his headphones, spinning toward the camera. "Wassup, mama?"
You paused for a moment, admiring your boyfriend and how good he looked in his black compression tee, gold chain, and grey sweat shorts.
"Why are you looking like that, mama?" Miles asked, catching your lingering gaze.
You gave him a playful smirk. "Nothing, but I called you to show you what I got from the mall," you squealed.
Miles smiled as he picked up his phone,for a better look. "Let's see what you got,". You held up the pink baby tee, beaming with excitement. "I got this, isn't she adorable, babe?" You smiled your dimples on display (I have dimples 🥰).
"That's cute, princesa. What you wanna wear it with?" Contemplating your options, you turned around, grabbing a white mini skirt and a pair of light brown cargos. Holding them up for his opinion, "I was thinking either this or this."
"Gonna try them on for me, ma?" Miles asked biting his lip. You giggled, seeing through his intentions. "You're not slick, but I'll be right back," you said with a smile. Making your way to the connecting bathroom, you put on the pink baby tee along with the white mini skirt, knowing Miles would like this pair the most.
Setting up your phone, you took a step back to ensure that he could see the entire outfit.
"Do you love it?" you asked giving him all your angles.
"Baby, you look gorgeous ," Miles said, taking screenshots.
"You taking screenshots?" you asked him.
"How could I not, babe you giving me butterflies and shit.” He said grinning.
"I've got something even better," you said, walking quickly to your bed to pull out a black tee.
"This actually is my favorite piece," you said, holding up the tee that had "I love my boyfriend" across it with his photo.
Miles let out a laugh. "You're wearing that every day."
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Copyright © 2023 Breeandhermunches. All rights reserved.
1K notes · View notes
Text
okay i've seen a few Just Some Guy!danny aus and they've consumed my brain so here you go, it's under the cut, you're welcome and thank you (ps it also combines part of a prompty type thing i saw the other day, props if you know it)
Danny was not entirely sure how he got here.
He was just walking along, bopping to some great interdimensional tunes, eating his tuna fish sandwich - with ectoplasm and pickles, of course - when KABLOW there's this big ole tightie-whities-on-the-outside wearing guy.
Now, Danny's not great at keeping up with the times, but he's pretty sure this is that Superman dude.
Said SuperDude was staring at his headphones and making vague "hey take them out pls so can converse" gestures, so naturally Danny pops the Interdimensional Walkman out of his chest to pause his wicked music, and then puts the whole kit and kaboodle back behind his rib cage.
"What's up? Did you need help or something? I mean, I'm pretty solidly retired but I guess if it's super important I can-"
SuperGuy abruptly stopped staring and started speaking, "Uh- no, no, thank you. Although I'm sure you could be helpful if I did need you! But, ah, well, was that a Walkman?"
Ohhhhh, Danny totally gets it now.
"Oh, dude, I gotchu. You want me to hook you up, right? Don't even worry about it, I know a guy who'll give you one a these babies for free! You're Kryptonian, right? Yeah, I totally get it, you wanna listen to some music from your home planet, no problemo my newly-minted friend, give me, like, ten seconds-"
And so Danny tore open a neat little portal and stuck his head through it, asking Technus to pretty please give him another Interdimensional Walkman, no he didn't even break this one-! He ran into a Kryptonian who heard him rockin out and wanted to know where he got the beats, and he'd told them that he could hook them up! C'mon Technus, you can't let them down! They're all lonely! They want to learn about their culture!
-----------------------------------------
Clark has no idea what's happening.
He had been searching for this ear-splitting, headache-inducing noise, and had come across a guy dancing down the sidewalk.
Not unusual, right?
Except that the terrible noise was coming from this man's - kid's?? He can't quite tell how old he is - headphones!
Of course, he didn't want to be rude, so he politely gestured for the man to remove the headphones. The man then proceeded to reach into his chest and pull out some kind of - Walkman?? Do people still use Walkmans?
Clark was naturally concerned, so he activated a spot of x-ray vision, just to see what's going on in there, and was promptly horrified.
This man was using his chest cavity as a storage compartment!
Two wallets, a key ring, a lunch box, some sort of odd thermos, bits and bobs of random parts and tools were all tangled around - and occasionally in - this guy's organs!
Suddenly, Clark realized that he'd been staring for a while, and the man was now talking. Something about coming out of retirement to help, oh dear, Ma would knock him around the head if he kept being so rude, "Uh- no, no, thank you. Although I'm sure you could be helpful if I did need you! But, ah, well, was that a Walkman?"
And now he was speaking rapidly, something about music from Krypton? Clark's pretty sure that not a whole lot survived the explosion, and he'd be pretty surprised if this guy just happened to have-
A vaguely Lazarus colored portal??
What in the world-
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"Thanks Technus! You're the best! I owe you one non evil scheme related favour!"
Danny zips up the portal and turns around, fiddling with the tapes and Walkman in his hands as he goes.
"Here you go! I wasn't entirely sure what genre you'd want, I don't really listen to a whole lot of Kryptonian stuff to be honest, it's usually too heavy on the vocal for me- not that vocals aren't great! But I want a whole band experience, yaknow? I'm not really looking for individual singers. Anyway, I just had him go for a couple songs of each major genre, but if you want something different you can totally-"
"Wait, hold on, you're telling me that there's Kryptonian music on those tapes? Playable by that Walkman?"
"Uh, well, yeah. Isn't that why you tracked me down? And, technically, I mean, they're ectoplasmic tapes and an Interdimensional Walkman, so. Hey, did you know that kryptonite is actually super-condensed ectoplasm? And since it's filled with the anguish and suffering and fear and whatnot of your entire home planet dying, it only negatively affects your species! Pretty cool right? Oh, shit, was that insensitive, I really didn't mean to be, I just thought that maybe you'd want to- ACK!"
Danny was not expecting SuperMuscles to get so close. He thrust out the IW and tapes and dropped them into SuperFellow's hands, "Listen, I gotta run. I'm supposed to be at a o-chem study group right now and they're totally gonna be pissed. Hit me up if you want a different tape."
And the proceeded to run in the opposite direction, duck into an alley and turn invisible, and fly over to the cafe his study group was in.
"Listen, I know I'm late but you'll never believe why-"
419 notes · View notes
norrisleclercf1 · 1 year
Text
Thief
Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader
Warnings: SMUT! Pure smut, dirty talk, name calling, p in v, sexting, public acts, Lando has a big dick (deal with it), I’m sure I missed some more
Rating: R
Words: 2.9K
Requested: Yes/No
Request: Hiiii! Im not sure if you're taking requests currently but if you are then could you write a piece where Lando makes a video pranking the reader by hiding all of her tshirts/tops or any piece of garment and when she asks him where her clothes are gone he just acts innocent like he knows nothing This could lead onto to anything tbh, i wouldn't mind some 18 rated content after this and i wouldn't even mind it being warning less tysmmm and love your writings ✨✨❤️
A/N: I’m going to hell for this one, still learning how to write good smut, I think I’m getting there. Anyways this got away from me, and kinda changed the request, but I hope you like it
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"Lando! Where is my favorite bra?" You yell loudly at your boyfriend. Lando rips his headphones off down the hall in his game room. 
"What?" He yells back. He leans back in his chair and pauses the video game, and thankfully he wasn't streaming today. 
"My bra? My favorite bra it's missing. Have you seen it?" You ask, voice getting closer until you appear before him, only wearing this eyelash lingerie bottom. It was black and baby pink with the cloth covering you see-through, and damn, he was delighted he wasn't streaming today. 
"Baby, fuck, trying to kill me?" Lando asks, trying hard not to pull you into his lap, lay you on the desk, and eat you out until you forget your name. 
"Lando, not now. I can't find my favorite bra; it goes with this set." You whine, annoyed you've lost yet another piece of clothing. 
For the past two months, you have lost clothing here and there; it's started to get you, especially after losing this bra. You don't know what's been happening, maybe from all the traveling you do with Lando, you've lost clothing, but you never let this bra out of your sight, and this time it's the piece of clothing you lose. 
"We just returned from Australia, and maybe you left it at the hotel? I can buy you a new one." He shrugs, trying not to stare at your chest. 
"Lan, I was wearing it on the plane; you ripped it off me when we got home." You groan, pulling your hair and storming down the hallway to your shared bedroom. 
Lando lets out his signature giggle and looks down at the left corner of his desk, the familiar baby pink poking out slightly. For the two months you've believed you have lost the articles of clothing, Lando was the one the entire time stealing them slowly. It started as a silly joke, but he couldn't help but keep doing it as the weeks passed. He's kept the clothes hidden throughout the apartment and shakes his head, glad he took this piece. 
You stomp back into the bedroom and look around the room for the bra, even looking in Lando's drawers. You pull the clothing out and stop, seeing your favorite cami. 
"Fucker." You whisper, everything clicking when you see other pieces of your clothing. 
"Fine, you wanna fuck with me, alright then. Game on." You mumble and decide to change your outfit for girls' night. 
Heading to the back of your closet, you pull out something you haven't worn since you started dating Lando. At first, you stopped wearing it out of respect for your relationship, but then you forgot you owned it until you started looking for your lost clothes. 
It was this soft peach-colored halter drawstring bodycon mini dress that had a thin piece of cloth tied together to hide your breast and two strings on each side to hold the skirt closed on your hips, but it did leave a gap on your waist, showing everyone you didn't have underwear on. You grab these light nude ankle strappy heels for the shoes and do them up. Wearing them, you'd be slightly taller than your boyfriend, but tonight he wouldn't be with you, so it didn't matter. You do these light but sexy makeup look to go with the dress's color and throw your hair up the way you love when you go out. 
"Lando, I'm leaving!" You yell down the hall, waiting for a reply, but you don't get one. Groaning in annoyance, you walk down the hall and see he's distracted by the video game. 
Opening your mouth to get his attention, you stop thinking about how to punish him for the prank he's been pulling on you for two months. You tiptoe behind him before falling on your knees and sliding under the desk. Lando has no idea you are there and decides to click on his Twitch account and start to stream. You hear the familiar tune and stop for a second, thinking if you should do this and smirk. Payback is a bitch. You wait till he is utterly unaware before you trail your hand up his thigh, making him jump almost out of his chair. 
"Fu-." He slaps a hand over his mouth to stop him from cussing, he wants to say something, but there is no way he can pull you out from under the desk without the video going utterly viral. 
You put a finger to your lips, silencing him as he gently sits back down and makes up an excuse on how he felt something tickling his leg and spooked. Rolling your eyes, you ghost his leg before settling it in his lap; Lando turns bright red but says it's just hot in the room. 
Palming him slowly, you smirk when you feel him twitch and grow hard under your hand. You always love how he reacts to your touch, even if it is simple and innocent, except this time, it isn't. Lando tries hard not to respond; he has to save face, but you're making it hard on him. When you're content with how stiff he's grown, you unzip his jeans, making him squirm as he shifts and pulls his pants and boxers down slightly. You watch as it lays in his lap and feel your own self growing wet. 
This idea would backfire, but you knew what to do and how to stop it. Lando was big, not like, holy shit, he's enormously big, but enough to need to prep before taking him. You loved that about him. He never brags about what he's packing and keeps it to himself. So the first time you fooled around and felt it, you were taken aback, making him laugh at your confusion. 
You swallow slightly, trying to relax your throat and lean forward, swiping your tongue from his balls to the tip of his cock. Lando's knees jerk upward and crash into the desk, and you have to cover your mouth to stop the giggles as he slams himself forward to the desk making sure no one can see a thing. 
He keeps playing the game, trying hard not to shove his cock down your throat for how you act, but he lets you be in control, or else everyone would know what was happening right now. You make the motion again, except you suck his tip into your mouth and flatten your tongue, letting him feel your warmth. He reaches down and wraps his fingers behind your neck, urging you to take more of him, which you down, loving his weight in your throat. 
Biting his lip to stop the pornographic moan about to leave his lips, he squeezes his eyes shut and takes a few deep breaths trying to reign in his control. 
"Sorry guys, just not feeling too hot, but I'm okay. Trust me. I'm very much okay." His voice wobbles and about dies there when you start to bob your head. 
You switch between swirling your tongue around his base as you bob your head and then pulling off and sucking on his tip. You know he's close when his twitches in your mouth and the vein underneath becomes visible. 
"Alright, I've got to go, guys. Bye!" He yells and frantically turns everything off, and when you hear it power down, you pull off, making him moan loudly. 
"Fucking Christ, sunshine, what the hell?" He yells, mixed between anger and wanting to cum. 
You climb out from underneath as he turns into a stuttering mess at what you're wearing. Fixing your dress, you look down at your boyfriend. 
"I've got to go; late meeting the girls." You smile innocently and peck his lips, walking down the hall. 
You giggle, hearing his feet chase after you. "Wait, you can't leave just yet." He groans, and you turn around, acting confused. 
"Why not?" You ask cocking your head to the side. 
"I....I didn't finish." He blushes, making you almost crack, but you hold firm and sigh, standing up straight. 
Turning the door handle, you smirk at him as he stares at you. "Welcome to the club." Slamming the door fast, you bolt for the elevator before he can follow you. 
It was a low blow, but it wasn't true. Lando always made sure to finish you off and hated when you couldn't; of course, he understood that it took some time for people and came pretty easy for others. You laid in the middle and just prayed Lando could realize it was a joke. But, if it riled him up even more, it was perfect. 
Getting to the bar took a little time, but you were able to plan even more. You found your friends, and drinks were already going around the table. Talking and drinking helped you get your mind off your boyfriend until your thoughts drifted back to Lando and how he felt in your mouth. Pathetic would be the word you'd use to describe your state. 
Sliding off the stool, you go to the bathroom and go to the sink, freshening up and wiping away the alcohol on you. For the first time that night, you look at your phone and see multiple texts from Lando. 
I hope for your benefit and ability to walk, you were joking earlier 
Y/n, please let me know if you're okay
Fuck, I'm still stiff and I want nothing more than to bury myself inside you
When you get home, be prepared not to leave or walk for a while 
If you need me to pick you up, say the word 
Giggling at the back and forth between the sweet, protective boyfriend and the very horny 23-year-old, you decide to rile him up even more before texting him to come to get you.  
Looking around the bathroom, you see no one as you walk into a stall and lock the door. You unlock your phone and spread your legs; hitting the record button, you give him a light tease of your fingers trailing up your thigh before disappearing under your dress. From the angle, all you could see was your hand up your clothing. Before pulling the skirt up, Lando would get a clear view of your pussy swallowing your fingers. Breathy moans leave your mouth as you move your fingers in and out, showing off how wet you are for him. 
"Lando." You whine, speeding up your fingers and starting to speed them up, moans becoming louder and louder with each passing moment.
You hit the record button again, ending it as you pull your fingers out slowly, you weren't one to edge yourself, but it was only fair, with what you did to Lando, that you wait too.  
Hitting send you to watch as it's delivered, and Lando opens the text immediately. 
Come get me 
That is all that is attached to the message, you don't get a reply from Lando, but you don't need one to know he'd be here before you walk out. Lando is always nearby when you drink, ensuring you're okay and safe. Your friends found it weird, but to you, it was his way of keeping you safe and protected from the creeps in the world. 
You don't even say anything to your friends as you see Lando's car and him leaning against the car. You smile but stop short, seeing him wear an all-black outfit with the first few buttons undone and his curls curling. He was playing dirty too. 
"Let's go home." Grabbing your hand, he pulls you into him, making you breathless as he kisses you deeply. His hands landed on your ass and squeezed it before landing a playful slap on it, making you moan in his mouth. 
"Mhm." Your eyes are closed as he opens your door and helps you in; he comes over to the driver's side and starts the car driving back to his place. 
You both sit silently before you look at him and poke more fun. 
"A guy asked for my number at the bar before I sent the video." You sigh, and out of the corner of your eye, you see his hand tighten on the wheel. 
"Really? Was it me or him that made you do that in the bathroom?" His voice was calm and collected but very close to snapping. 
"Him, a gorgeous millionaire, was thinking of getting on my knees for him too." You giggle, and Lando shakes his head, pulling into the parking garage. 
"Come on, let's go upstairs." He smiles, kissing your hand and jogging to the other side to help you out of the car. 
Walking to the elevator, Lando pulls you close to him by the hip and waits for the elevator to take you upstairs. You notice he's using the hidden elevator that puts you in his penthouse instead of walking the hallway. Stepping into the elevator, he slams you against the wall, making you whine as his hand holds your throat, not tight but enough to make you squirm. 
"Sunshine, you better tread lightly. First, you blow me, but I'm not able to finish in that gorgeous mouth of yours, then you wear this slutty dress that makes me want to bury my balls in you, and lastly, that video. You've been bad." He groans, his free hand playing with the loose string holding the front of your dress together. 
"M' sorry." You whine, bucking your hips up to get some friction, but Lando pins you to the wall holding you still with his own body. 
"No, you're not, gorgeous." He whispers, kissing your neck before biting and sucking a mark into your skin, showing off how you're his. 
His hand grazes the string before pulling it, your tits falling out as Lando moans cupping one of them, loving how soft they were. 
"Don't take your time. Just fuck me like I'm your whore." You whimper, still dry-humping Lando. 
He chuckles, and you hear the jingle of his belt as he leans down, sucking your tit into his mouth. The elevator door opens as you both stumble over each other before he bends you over the couch. 
"You want to tease and make me jealous, and then I will do that. Who do you belong to?" He asks, taking the tip of his cock and rubbing it over your wet folds, trying hard not to come from the way you moved your hips, trying to get him in you. 
"Fuck me, Lando, please." You whine, but it becomes a scream when Lando enters you in one fluid movement. 
He usually gives you time to adjust slowly as he slides in you, but tonight he was different. The thought of anyone catching you in the bathroom and while he was streaming, he was furious at other men seeing you that way. 
"Are you okay?" He asks, bending over your back; the pressure of his weight on you makes you lustful. 
"Yes, I'm okay." Smiling at how he was still thinking of your comfort, he never wants to hurt you, but that kindness is replaced with the burning jealousy of your boyfriend. 
"Fuck, how are you still tight when you like to act like a whore." He groans, ramming his hips into your ass as you moan as he hits each nerve perfectly. 
"Jesus Lando!" You cry as he wraps a hand around your neck, pulling you up so his chest and back are flushed as he spreads your legs farther apart. 
His head rests between your shoulder and neck as he sucks and bites more marks into your neck, marking his territory. He stops, making you gasp, finally catching some air before he pulls out of you, lays you on the couch, and steps between your legs. He arches his body over you and lifts your legs to lay them on his shoulders. Lando leans down and kisses you gently before sliding into you, making you whimper at how he fills you up. 
"Lando, please, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have; please just let me come," You cry, unable to handle it anymore as his thumb rubs your swollen clit as he moves in and out, carefully dragging it out. 
But you knew he was close too, he had this look of concentration on his face making you laugh out loud, and his eyes snapped to yours at your laughter. 
"What are you laughing at?" He asks and slams into you, making your laughter turn to a breathy moan. 
"You want to come too? You have this look like you're trying not to come." You tease, and Lando loses his serious face and smiles, biting his lip. 
"Shut up; I can't help it. I could come to just at your smile. I can't help it. You left me with blue balls." Kissing you gently as you both moan when you squeeze around him. 
"Damn." He mumbles as he starts to speed up, leaving you both breathless as he takes your other tit into his mouth, sucking and kissing as your fingers dig into his hair, loving the way his necklace dangles between the two of you as his thumb rubs harder, making your muscle tighten. 
"Co-coming!" You cry as you fall apart underneath him, and Lando still as his orgasm crashes into him. Both of you left your mouths open, gasping for air. 
"I love you." He whispers as your fingers hook his necklace and pull him in for a kiss. 
"I love you too; also, stop stealing my clothes. If you want me naked, you could smile at me." Making him laugh as he pulls out of you and picks you up like nothing. 
"Alright then, new rule. No clothes." Laughing as you roll your eyes, kissing his cheek. 
"Deal." Making Lando smile at you, you weren't kidding, and his smile was pantie-drop-worthy. 
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avidhorrormoviefan · 11 months
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all he did was whimper and limp around this entire movie i had this movie in full blast in my headphones
he thanks you when you make him cum. like hardcore thank you. “augh fuck thank you momma… s’fuckin’good fuck…”
he’s a service top frrrr
he makes sure that you come before he does
he whimpers in your ear when he’s fucking you but on some events when he’s a bit more of a top top, he grunts and moans in your ear
when you ride him he puts his hands on your hips rather harshly and helps you bounce on him, the way you make him feel when you’re around him makes him fucking feral
when he’s giving you head he tongue fucks you every time because he loves the way you taste
he overstimulates youuu
oh and when he’s overstimulated it’s over for him. he’s a whimpering and whining mess under you. his mind wants to pull away but his body doesn’t bc he just loves it too much :((
when you give him head he wants you to give him gagging crying throat clenching kinda head
when you wear a new bra and panties set that he bought you, he makes sure that you keep it on when he’s fucking you, so whenever you wear it you always think about him and how good you feel when you’re with him
he steals your underwear. idkidk
i will for sure do a part two (maybe with another of his characters??) bc rory has me in a chokehold right now
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gojos-whatnow · 4 months
Text
『Make Your Dreams Come True』⇝♡
⭒Alt. title: normal call gone booty :000
⭒Synopsis: Gojo's flirting with you over the phone, as usual, when you suddenly ask him to come over...
⭒Warnings: NSFW, sexual content, subby satoru ml, reader and Gojo are both switchy tho, afab!reader, fingering, dick riding, not clearly stated that reader/gojo are virgins but you can imagine it, reader/gojo are best friends at the start, lots of the word "baby", implied fortnite (I'm probably missing stuff but oh well)
⭒Setting: Juju high Satoru but aged up ykyk cuz his sunglasses are so mmf
⭒Notes: first post but I'm considering making this a series HELP
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You and Satoru happened to be playing games together, as usual when you weren't on missions or doing schoolwork. You adjusted your headphones slightly, feeling the growing head discomfort from wearing them too long. It was worth it for Satoru, however, since he never ceased to make you laugh.
"Why would you run so far off, dude, you're gonna get sniped," you sighed, seeing how far away he was on the map.
"Pfft, I'll be fine, worry about yourself, you're one-tap."
"Maybe if my teammate decided to come help me I wouldn't be."
"You're jus' sayin' that cause you miss me."
This was the usual back-and-forth until one of you got ambushed or something. The normal flirting from Satoru while you shrugged it off with a chuckle. Though, you'd been playing for hours now, and tiredness was creeping into your skull, knocking down the filters of brain and speech one by one.
"Yeah, miss you a lot," you murmured, meaning to sound teasing. It came out all too genuine. "Wish you would come save me, Satoru."
You listened to the clacking of his keyboard, faint over your headphones. Satoru's silence made it all too easy to hear the lull in his playing, the quick pause and pickup. You looked at the map, knowing exactly what it meant. Sure enough, his ping was high-tailing it towards yours. You chuckled to yourself, feeling warmth in your chest. What a hero.
"Something funny?"
"No, no, you're just down bad for me is all," you spoke slyly.
"As if I try to hide it."
"Y'know, I reread our chats when I want an ego boost."
"You serious?" He snickered.
"Yeah. All the times you've called me gorgeous and told me I had a nice ass..."
"Wait, waitwaitwait-"
You heard the clacking of his keyboard stop entirely. Pausing, you realized and looked at your phone, tapping into your messenger. His typing bubble was up, as expected. You continued walking towards him in the game as you waited for his message to come up.
"Ok, there."
You turned to your phone and deadpanned.
S͟a͟t͟o͟r͟u͟u͟u͟u͟u͟ ͟🥺͟️͟🥺͟️͟:͟
Beautiful tits
And rack
You shook your head and hastily typed back 'nice cock' before picking up where you were. You heard his phone go off, a few seconds go by, then his seductive voice spoke to you again.
"Wanna see it, baby?"
"Bet."
He breathed out a laugh and you continued playing, occasionally speaking your mind a bit too much from grogginess. The sleep deprivation had started to show in your voice, though.
"You tired or something? Need a sleebge?"
"Yuh, I'm eepy," you yawned, rubbing one of your eyes. "But let's just finish this match."
"We're gonna lose if you're nodding off while you're getting cracked. Might as well quit while we're ahead."
"Ugh, that phrase. You sound like, fuckin', me." You cringed at your own phrasing, letting out another yawn.
"I wish I was fuckin' you."
After the moment it took your mind to register the words, you felt a response roll off of your tongue faster than you knew it was even there.
"Then come over."
You heard the usual chuckle that you and Satoru would share after something like that snake through your headphones. When you didn't join in, there was a pause.
"Are you... serious?"
A moment. A single moment was all it took in your tired mind to commit to this idea of yours.
"Did it sound like a joke, Satoru?"
You could hear his speechlessness, you could tell he was floundering like a fish right now, his keyboard, his screen, the whole match left completely forgotten. Once you'd had enough of the silence, you spoke to him again.
"I'm absolutely for real right now. Door's unlocked...
Lemme make your dreams come true."
"Ffffffuck."
You watched on your screen as a popup appeared. "THE_honored1 has disconnected." With a smile, you left the call, pulled off your headphones to let your ears breathe. You had just finished standing and stretching when there was a soft knock on your door. So uncharacteristic of Satoru.
You quickly checked your clothes and hair, just to make sure you didn't look like an absolute slob who had been in their gaming chair all day. Oh well, Satoru probably wasn't too far off from that himself.
You opened the door, only to find your friend was completely quiet, barely able to meet your eyes, though it seemed like he couldn't look away from them either. With a friendly smile, you stepped out of the way and motioned for him to enter. He stepped past you, hands in his pockets. You closed and locked the door behind him, then turned around just in time to feel an arm wrap around the small of your back and a hand gently grab your chin.
"I need to know..." He paused, taking a breath. He was basically panting, hot breath ghosting over you with each exhale. "I need to know right now... if you really meant it."
"Every word."
"You still do?"
"Of course."
At that, the hand under your chin pulled your face to his and his lips crashed into yours. You could feel him trembling as your arms wrapped over his shoulders, and you could feel his heart racing, beating right out of every artery in his body.
He felt sparks, fireworks, the whole nine yards, as he kissed you. His whole body seemed to stall like an old car as soon as his lips touched yours. His brain turned to mush- no, melted. Reduced to a boiling soup in his skull. Because finally, finally he was kissing you.
'Girl of my dreams' wasn't how he would describe you, but he'd dreamed of you. He'd literally seen you in his slumbering mind, and wished he could do more than just the occasional flirting and borderline sexting. Satoru had been fantasizing about you for years, it felt like, ever since you'd reached that casual first-name basis. He wanted to know what it would really be like. If those fantasies could be recreated.
And when you kissed back, waking him from the sloshing pool his mind had become, he tugged you close, bodies flush. He felt your breasts squish against his chest, one of your hands cupping the side of his head just under his ear, and God did it make him lightheaded as all the blood in his slovenly brain ran south. He could feel his voice in the back of his throat, threatening to let out a moan with every exhale. He struggled to hold it back, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of you by acting like an animal in heat just from your kiss and your touch.
You couldn't say you weren't feeling anything yourself, though. You were sure that, without your bra, Satoru easily could've felt how your nipples were hardening, and your breath shook as one of his hands left your chin and sensually trailed down your side and up under your shirt. But, of course, these feelings weren't nearly as turbulent as Gojo's excitement and arousal, which were only hightened when your tongue slipped between his lips.
You softly leaned into him, tapping his leg with your foot to signal for him to move back. As you continued kissing him, you led him back to your bed, shoving him down to sit on the edge of it and finally letting your lips leave his. As you caught your breath, you crawled up onto him, straddling his lap. He looked up at you with eyes that screamed how bad he wanted you, panting heavily but still wanting more. Then, he chuckled.
"This isn't at all how I expected."
"Hmn?" You beckoned for him to explain, draping your arms over his shoulders and carding one hand into the hair at the base of his neck.
"It's all so backwards from how I pictured it. I always thought I would be the one to invite you over, run the show... be the one in charge, but fuck, I'm such a loser," he sighed out, trailing his hands over your waist and stomach under your shirt. To help him, you pulled it over your head and off, giving him better access and a nicer view.
"A loser? What, for having a girl on top of you?" You purred, trailing kisses along his cheek and jaw. "Please, there's at least a billion guys who'd sell their soul for that."
His voice and breathing trembled as he tilted his head to the side for you. "No, I mean... how I barely had the balls to even come over... Let alone ask you to."
"Trust me, baby, you can do anything if you're tired enough. Or if you're Satoru Gojo," you whispered, nibbling lightly on his ear. A shudder ran down his spine at that, and he felt like he could cum right then and there.
"Fuck... Keep talking like that and I won't last for shit."
"Yeah? And how do you think I feel when I'm touching myself to your messages, hmn?"
He let out a soft gasp as you ground your hips against his. His hands ran to your hips, gripping them and guiding them as they rolled.
"Saying I could last three minutes would be a generous estimate."
"God, you do that too?" He asked, voice coming out whiney. You let out a seductive chuckle that burned through his loins.
"Of course I do. Ego boost, remember?"
"You like when I call you gorgeous?" He sighed, feeling you throb against his crotch.
"Don't dislike it," you admitted. "You're pretty damn gorgeous yourself, though. Pretty boy Satoru."
He felt his rock solid cock twitch in his pants at your words, once again. He was doomed. His molten mind knew that, even as he helped you take his shirt off. And then your hands trailed down his chest and stomach, making him even dizzier.
"Don't think... I can take much more of this..." He admitted as your soft lips kissed down his shoulder. He could feel you smile against his skin.
"Hehe, awwwe, you close Satoru?" You giggled and gave a few harsh rolls of your hips, sending hot pleasure coursing through his lower half. He gasped, hands gripping you tightly.
"Fuck, fuck, Y/n, don't do that."
"Okay, baby, I think you've waited long a enough. Just how long, I wonder?"
It felt like his whole life. An eternity he'd waited for this, for the chance to watch you unbuckle his belt and tug his pants down and off of him, followed by you doing the same with your leggings. You crawled back on top of him, hovering over his thighs and holding his shoulder with one hand to steady yourself. Meanwhile, your other hand found its way into his boxers, and you could hear his breath hitch as your fingers wrapped around his length and slowly started stroking up and down.
"Y-you don't have to do that," he breathed out, a hand gripping your wrist. "Trust me, I'm as hard as I could get."
"Well, I should hope so. You're bigger than even I expected," you chuckled, stilling your hand and pulling it away.
He sighed softly and looked up at you through his pretty lashes with a smug look. "And what about you? Think you could take it? Think you're even ready to?"
You felt yourself clench on nothing at his words, feeling how intense his eyes were on yours. With a smile, you grabbed his hand and placed it at the waistband of your panties.
"Why don't you find out?"
His smile left his face, mouth opening as he took a breath. His eyes left yours to look at where his hand was, and his mind stalled only a moment before his fingers dipped under the fabric of your underwear and softly tugged them down.
He left them about halfway down your thighs and reached up to cup your sex. He drug a finger through your folds, feeling how wet you were and suddenly wanting nothing more than to see how much pleasure he could bring you.
He continued pulling his finger forward until he found your clit, stopping to rub gentle circles against it. He heard a soft noise fall from your lips and watched your hips just barely twitch. God, did he want to turn you into a mess.
He looked up at you and your heated expression. "Can I...?"
"Yeah, yeah, go ahead," you spoke, sounding the least composed he'd heard you all night. Carefully, he slipped one of his fingers between your folds, stopping at a shallow depth and curling his finger to tease you.
"You want it all the way in?" He asked with a smirk on his face and a playful lilt to his voice. You bit your lip, lidding your eyes at him, and wrapped your hand back around his cock.
You watched his whole teasing nature melt away as his cock twitched in your hand, begging for friction. Silently surrendering, he pressed his finger deeper until your cunt reached the base of his finger. He felt around your insides, watching you squirm slightly.
"'S that feel alright?"
"Yeah, you're all good."
At that, he curled his finger forward finding your g spot and feeling your walls clench around him. He added another finger and prodded against that spot. Your hips rolled against his hand as a soft moan was pulled from your lungs. The moment he heard your voice make such a heavenly sound, he was hooked. He couldn't help but move his fingers faster, try to reach deeper, and softly rub his thumb against your clit.
"Satoru," you called, somewhere between a moan and a fond chuckle. You reached a hand up to cover your mouth, only for it to be stolen away and replaced by a greedy pair of lips, drinking in every soft moan you gave. It didn't take long from there to feel a coil tightening in your abdomen, and as you pulled away from Satoru's lips for air, you leaned into him, pressing your chest to his and resting your chin on his shoulder.
"Y-you really want- hah- want me to cum now?" You asked making sure he was actually alright with that fact and not just lost without a thought.
"Fuck yes, baby. And I'll make it happen again when I'm inside you, mark my fuckin' words."
Hearing this, you felt your orgasm crash into you, making you stuff your face in the crook of his neck to muffle your sob. After all, two of your walls were shared with Shoko and Utahime, and you'd prefer that neither knew what was happening (particularly Utahime).
Once your orgasm had ended and you were catching your breath, you felt Satoru pull his fingers from his cunt, letting the cool air of the room touch your slick and make it embarrassingly obvious how wet you were. You pulled away from his shoulder and looked at him, finding he had two fingers in his mouth and a dreamy look in his eyes.
You tasted absolutely delicious. If he wasn't so painfully hard and losing patience, he'd have started eating you out right then and there, not stopping until you were barely lucid. God, how gorgeous you would look like that. But it'd have to wait for next time, and he'd make sure there was a next time.
"Need a break?" He asked softly, though it would pain him to hear you say yes.
"No, no, not after you've been waiting so nicely," you murmured, kissing across Satoru's face. As you did so, you took a hand off his shoulder and used it to tug your underwear all the way off. Once he realized what you were doing, he shifted around to tug his boxers down his own legs, leaving him completely bare under you. There was only one thing keeping you from being just the same.
"You gonna keep this on the whole time?" He asked slyly as he tugged at your bra strap.
"You want it off?"
"Wanna watch 'em bounce." He turned his eyes to yours, pausing your kissing. "You wanna keep it on?"
"Well, it's..." suddenly you looked the most flustered he'd seen you. Ever. Even when he was knuckles deep in your cunt, you'd kept some sort of stoic persona. But now, suddenly, even through the dark he could tell your face was red. "It's embarrassing..."
"Why's that?" He cooed, pulling you close so he could kiss along your shoulder.
"Whaddya mean, 'why-"
"I mean, it shouldn't be embarrassing around me. I worship you. It hasn't changed yet, why now?"
You thought through his words for a second, then sighed and grabbed both of his wrists, pulling them to your shoulder blades.
"...go ahead."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. It's like you said. Why not?"
He gave you a soft look and pressed an even softer kiss to your lips as he fumbled with the clasp of your bra. He unhooked it and carefully pulled it off of you, leaving you completely bare and with an urge to cover yourself as you felt your nipples harden even further with the cool air.
"'S okay, yeah?" He asked reassuringly, dropping his hands to your waist. When you nodded, he leaned forward and trailed kisses along your chest and both of your mounds. Your breath shook as you watched him and how his eyes would occasionally meet yours, making sure you knew how much he loved you and your body. After a bit more kissing, and some hickey-leving and groping, his lips lifted to meet yours, and his hands returned to his waist.
"You ready yet?" You sighed out, pulling your mouth from his.
"I've been ready for an hour, baby," he laughed, his enthusiasm returning.
"You sure?" You cooed playfully.
With a frustrated look on his face, you felt Satoru tug your hips down, pressing his cock against your folds. You bit your lip, feeling yourself throb and softly grind against him. He loosened his grip and you took that moment to lift yourself up enough for you to grab his length and line it up with your entrance.
You both exchanged a glance before he helped you ease down onto his cock, blissful sighs leaving both your throats. You felt Satoru whisper out his thousandth curse of the night and bury his face into the crook of your neck, letting out shaky whimpers as you continued to ease down.
"D-don't worry about- hah- t-taking it all..." he reassured, no longer helping you down - letting you go at your own pace.
"I can fit it," you murmur, continuing your careful decent down onto him.
"God, you're so hot inside. F-feels like I'm melting... All cause of me..."
You meant to chuckle, but it came out as more of a near-silent whimper as you sat down fully, feeling the tip of his cock kiss depths inside you that had never been reached before.
"You really did fit it all," he sighed out, an obvious smile on his face even though you couldn't see it. "You're a fucking angel."
He ran his tongue over several of the hickies he'd left along your neck and shoulder, all easy to hide, as per your request. You rested where you were, trying to get used to his length being the full way inside you.
"You alright?" He leaned back slightly, pulling your chin so you face him. "You're so quiet. You short-circuitting?"
You wiggled your hips and smiled at him, watching his lashes twitch as his eyes threatened to roll back at just that. "I could ask you the same thing," you purred between soft breaths. He leaned forward and rested his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist in a way that was hug-like. One of his hands reached down under one of your thighs and attempted to lift you up, but you stayed put, clenching your walls around him and hearing him let out a shaky breath.
"Can't wait, baby," he whimpered softly. "Can't wait. Please move."
Indulging his sweet, pathetic pleads, you lifted yourself up slowly and sat back down, the feeling of his tip ramming into a certain spot inside you making you clamp down on him once more. His arms tightened around you. "Shit," he let out a sobbing whisper.
"You're so shy right now, Satoru," you cooed, trying embarrassingly hard to keep your voice from cracking. "What happened to all the talk you give me over our calls?" With that, you slid yourself back up and down. The resulting sound that graced your ears was glorious. Right next to your ear, you heard the great Satoru Gojo squeak. So vulnerable.
You picked up these movements at a slow and steady pace, not wanting to overwhelm Satoru, but make him feel amazing. And amazing he felt, dizzy and with his soup-mind more than numb. His soft grunts told you that much.
Everytime his tip prodded against a sweet spot inside you, you wanted to slam yourself down onto him and feel it again, but you knew Satoru wouldn't last if you went too rough. Right now, his arms around your waist pulling you up and down told you what pace he wanted as he steadily pulled you faster. You slipped a hand up his neck and into his hair, tugging softly to hear more of his voice. As the speed mixed with pleasure started making it impossible to keep quiet, you pressed your mouth to the top of his head.
It was clear he knew he was hitting a good spot, as he kept angling his hips to reach that spot with every bounce. One of his hands reached down to rub at your clit and, in your mind, there was the thought that you might actually cum first.
"Fuuuck, I'm close," he whined out, and you could feel his hips twitching up in an attempt to meet your bounces. Between your moans, you whimpered out a "me too."
He started tugging your hips up and down faster, and his hips struggled to meet yours to ram into the very back of your cunt. You yelped the first time his tip slammed into that sweet spot, and hid your face in the side of his head, recalling your wall-mates.
It took barely 30 seconds for your orgasm to wash over you. At the last moment, Satoru grabbed your face and shoved his tongue down your throat, lapping up your orgasmic mewls and keeping you somewhat quiet. Your cunt squeezed his cock tight, and one more thrust did it for him, sending his eyes up and back into his skull as he saw white. Without a thought of hesitation, he pumped your insides full of his cum, orgasming harder than he'd ever felt in his life, and it only felt better at the thought of making you all his.
His lips still stuck to yours as you both attempted to catch your breath. He pulled away for a moment to look into your eyes, only to lean back in and give you a real kiss, making you whimper.
"I fucking love you, Y/n," he sighed out as he pulled away, looking back into your eyes with a gaze so genuine, it made you freeze. "This... this is a terrible way to ask, probably top 5 worst ways, but... will you be my girlfriend?"
You sighed out a laugh and pulled his lips back to yours, kissing him with a completely different intention now. "How could I say no to you, honey? Heh, and you called yourself a loser," you shook your head. "Would a loser be in this situation?"
He rolled his eyes at you and pecked you on the lips. You gave him a soft smile, but yelped as you felt him swing you around, tossing your back down onto the bed. Your mind caught up just in time to see him on top of you with a dopey smile on his face.
"So, Sweetheart, you wanna go again?"
BONUS: The Morning After
After spending the morning making sure that your legs still worked, your hickies were covered, and that no one was around to see Satoru leave your room, you met with your classmates as if it were any normal morning. It seemed like one too, as you greeted everyone, including Satoru. He'd waited for you to text him that everyone had already left, so he was the last one out.
"Morning, Sleepyhead," you waved.
"If I had known you would be so late, I would've came and woken you up myself," Geto sighed. You quietly thanked God that Geto didn't attempt to do that.
"Hey you guys," Shoko waved. You felt nervousness in your chest at how amused she seemed.
"Did you have fun last night?"
Your stomach dropped, and you slowly turned to Shoko, finding a smug look on her face. Geto look confused, but knew something was up when he saw the terrified stares of you and Satoru.
"What happened?"
"Nothing important," Satoru waved his hand dismissively with a sigh, but his face was red too.
"I'll tell ya later, " Shoko leaned over and whispered to Geto.
"What're you idiots making such a big deal about?" Utahime asked, looking at you and Satoru's expressions.
"Hey, Utahime, you didn't happen to hear any weird noises last night, didya?" Shoko asked, leaning around you to look at her.
"I did, actually. Around 11, I think. Why?"
"Nothing, just making sure I wasn't hallucinating or something," she brushed it off, continuing to smirk at you and Satoru. At that Utahime left with a suspicious look.
Geto suddenly put the pieces together, eyes widening. "Wait. You two..."
Shoko nodded with a knowing 'mhm'.
With a look over his shoulder to make sure that Utahime was really gone and Mei Mei wasn't looking, Satoru reached over and tugged your collar to the side, displaying a blue hickey. You slapped his hand away, looking at him with a beat red face.
"Satoru!" You gasped.
"Oh, we're dating, by the way." He spoke coolly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
"Took you long enough," Geto rolled his eyes.
"I told you, man, I had a plan this whole time."
"Last I checked, that wasn't at all the plan."
"Well, I had to make some... situational changes."
You, Geto, and Shoko all deadpanned at his bullshittery.
"Okay, look, the point is that it worked out."
"I guess I can confirm that," you sighed.
"Is he any good?" Shoko asked, nonchalantly. "Eh, why bother asking? I could hear the answer to that last night."
"Shut up!!"
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harryslittlefreakk · 5 months
Text
so perfect for me
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(late night talking part 3)
Summary: harry shows you his softer side on your third day together
Warnings: smut, 18+!! mostly fluffy
A/n: thank you for the love on the previous parts. these 2 are my fave, can’t wait to see where the week takes them!! please let me know if there’s anything you want to see from them :)
part one
part two
my masterlist can be found here!
You woke up the next morning cold and alone. Dread hit you instantly as you sat up, searching around the huge room for any sign of Harry. He definitely wasn’t there. You knew sleeping together would be too much for him, he initiated it as much as you did but in the harsh morning light, it felt like a mistake. Even with the window cracked, the room smelled obscene. The smell of hot, dirty sex was seeping out your pores, and you had a sticky mess in your panties. Just another reminder of your mistakes. You threw yourself back into the bed, thrashing around and groaning. You didn’t even hear the door open and close as you kicked and punched at the soft bed around you.
“Not pleased to see me?,” an awfully familiar voice came from above you. Peeking out of one scrunched eye, you instantly softened at the sight of Harry standing over you. He was wearing an oversized grey hoodie and black Nike shorts, headphones wrapped snug around his neck. He had a cup holder in one hand, two large coffee cups tucked inside, and a Pleasing tote bag draped over the opposite shoulder. “I thought you left, I thought you regre-“, you mumbled, running your hands across your face. Harry set aside the cup holder and sunk down on the bed beside you, pulling your hands towards him. “Hey, I would never. Jus’ wanted to bring you some coffee,” he rasped, planting kisses on both of your hands. You smiled sweetly at this, sitting up to be closer to him. He handed one of the coffees to you, “caramel macchiato,” and let the large bag slide off his shoulder. Reaching inside, Harry pulled out the prettiest bouquet, lavender and baby’s breath wrapped in brown parcel paper. “Got you some flowers,” he grinned.
“Harry! I love them. Thank you,” you replied. You could seriously get used to this sight. Possibly your favourite man in the entire world, perched on the edge of your bed, bringing you beautiful flowers and coffee. It was like you were living out all of your dreams at once.
“Come on pet, let’s get you showered.” Harry spoke as he moved from the bed, pulling the warm duvet off your body. As you turned to get up, you let out a hiss, suddenly realising how battered your body felt. Getting fucked within an inch of your life wasn’t wise after being on your feet for hours, you had no idea how Harry wasn’t wincing with every step. You rubbed at your lower back, padding behind Harry to the bathroom.
He’d already started the shower, giving it time to warm up before you stepped inside. “You need to wash your hair?” he asked, grabbing some products from the countertop. You shook your head, and he came up behind you, claw clip in hand, and secured your hair on top of your head. You watched him in the mirror, handling you so delicately. How could the same man who fucked you so hard last night, be so loving and gentle today? You really couldn’t believe that this was your life. Harry peppered kisses along the top of your shoulders, staring back at your reflection. “Are you sore today darling?” he snaked his hands around your waist as he spoke, rubbing gently at your lower stomach. You winced in response, confirming the damage his huge member had done to you.
You let the hot water run over you in the shower, still not really awake enough to function properly. Harry had stepped in behind you, and was rubbing watermelon-scented body wash all over you. His loving hands were soothing all the aches you felt. You really hated the smell of watermelon, but you’d never tell him that. He was caressing your body so gently, showing you so much time and care you’d never had before post-hook up.
He left you to do your skincare alone, running down to your room to grab you a clean pair of panties. When he returned, Harry dabbed at your dripping body with a soft towel, before holding out each leg of your underwear for you to step into. You stole a huge fluffy robe from the back of the bathroom door and slipped into that, feeling more content than ever.
Harry had shown you down to your hotel room after your shower, and your jaw went slack as you looked around. “Harry, I can’t afford this!” you gasped, taking it all in. An enormous bed sat against one wall, a small kitchen area off to the right. There was an entire walk-in wardrobe through a jack-and-jill bathroom, already filled with the clothes you’d brought. The room was accented with pale blue and warm wood furnishings, more homely than Harry’s prestige suite. He rolled his eyes, sauntering into your wardrobe. “Don’t have to worry about that, princess. Haven’t you single-handedly funded my room? Now I’m funding yours.”
He pulled on a white miniskirt as he walked through, pushing the hangers apart to nose at what you’d brought with you. “Which one are you wearing tonight?” he asked. You stepped into the room behind him, plucking a metallic fringe skirt from one of the hangers. You held it up against your hips, shimmying at yourself in the mirror, watching the tassels shine. It was a bright magenta with gold and copper iridescent fibres threaded through. The matching bra left little to the imagination, and truthfully you weren’t sure how much trust you had in the tiny top. You looked over at Harry, anxious to see his reaction to your outfit choice. “F’only I were wearing pink today,” he muttered, rubbing a hand across his chin. “You’ll look amazing.” He came up behind you now, pulling you back so your spine was flush with his front. Harry looked the two of you up and down in the mirror, stroking the tops of your arms.
“Listen, I feel bad that you’re hurting today,” he started, moving one hand to rest on your hip. “If y’wanted to, I could upgrade your tickets to VIP so you don’t have to be on your feet for so long.” You rested your head back on his shoulder, humming in appreciation. “I’d like that,” you nodded, “want more energy for you.”
“Yeah?” he confirmed softly, voice muffled against your hair. “Gotta do it subtly though, Harry. Joanie’s been blowing up my phone about you flirting with me last night.” He nodded, tapping his temple. “I’ve got my ways sweet girl.”
Harry moved to lean against the doorframe, putting his phone to his ear to pull some strings for you.
It wasn’t long before your phone rang, Joanie’s contact photo flashing up as she tried to facetime you. You whisper-shouted to Harry to hide, composing yourself before you picked up. She was screaming when you answered, repeating your name in a frenzy. “What happened?” you asked, genuinely confused. “I just got an email, we were upgraded to VIP tonight!! Apparently they do it to a few people every night. I can’t believe it!!” You snorted at her excitement, wishing you could tell her the rest of the story. “That’s so exciting!!!” You buzzed with her, hoping you were acting surprised enough. “Wait- where are you?” she quizzed, suddenly distracted by the view of your busy wardrobe.
Your heart caught in your throat, you’d forgotten that you already sent her pictures of your previous hotel room. “My hotel upgraded me,” you lied, words coming out before you could think them through. “I complained to the staff, that hotel was trash. So they moved me here,” you shrugged, hoping that would be enough. “Well I’m glad you got moved. I didn’t like you staying there. You know you could’ve stayed with me though,” Joanie pouted. “Show me round your room!!”
You panned the camera around your wardrobe and bathroom, then gave her a quick look at the main room. You had no idea where Harry was so you were anxious to show her too much. She hung up after a few minutes, needing to get ready, promising to send you the details for the show. You called for Harry to come out as you threw yourself down onto the bed. He peeked out sheepishly from behind the floor to ceiling curtain, an amused grin creeping onto his face. You chuckled as he walked over to where you sat on the edge of the bed, stopping right in front of you as you wrapped your arms around his hips.
“Thank you for doing that,” you said softly, tilting your head up to look at him. Harry picked you up by your armpits, throwing you down into the middle of the bed before climbing on top of you. He smushed kisses all over your face, giggling through his pouted lips. “Anything for you.”
Harry’s hands began to wander up and down your body, his mouth pressing kisses into wherever his hands trailed away from. You were panting softly now, your heart hammering in your chest as he worked his magic. You could feel his already hard cock pressing against your leg, and pulled your arms out of the fluffy white robe you’d stolen from his room to give him better access. You were so glad you’d only worn panties underneath. Harry’s eyes bulged as he studied your body, seeming to have forgotten how little you were wearing. His head dived toward your breast, kneading one softly as he licked around the other, suckling on your nipple before releasing it with a quiet pop when your hips bucked under him. “What’s got you so needy, huh? Gonna tell daddy what you want?” he asked, wearing a familiar smirk. “Need you,” you replied, back arching as he took your other nipple into his mouth.
He peeled off his sweatshirt before licking a trail up and down your abdomen, hooking a finger into the gusset of your panties and tugging them down your legs. Your entrance was already smothered in your juices, so wet and needy for Harry. He looked at you through half-closed eyes, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he closed the distance between you. He kissed you softer than he had last night, his tongue exploring your mouth tenderly. Now that he knew how good you could make each other feel, there was no rush to get to the height of your pleasure.
You writhed under him as he slid two fingers into your folds, moving slowly but with purpose. “Let me know if it gets too much, okay pet?” he spoke against your ear, nibbling at your lobe as his fingers moved in and out of you. The slight pain mixed in with your pleasure, almost too much to take. You were reeling from how quickly he had you worked up.
“More, more, please harry. Want you inside me,” you mewled, desperate for the pleasure you felt the night before. “You ready for me, love?” he asked, pulling away to kick his shorts and boxers off his legs. His erection sprung up below his belly button, already glistening with pre cum. Your mouth watered at the sight, you couldn’t wait to have your lips around him one day. He stroked down his shaft, his tip blushing a bright red. “Want you on all fours for me,” he told you, eyes fixed on your curves as you moved into position.
Resting on your forearms, you turned your head to watch Harry as he aligned his tip with your folds, humming in appreciation when he swiped through your juices. “Look so delicious baby, could eat you for every meal,” he moaned, pressing a kiss onto your lower back. His hands groped your ass, fingertips digging in to the soft flesh. Harry pulled your cheeks apart as he pushed his tip inside of you, a moan tumbling out of his parted lips. You’d never get used to the burn he sent through your core. He eased in slow, careful not to hurt you any further. He stilled as he bottomed out inside of you, giving your walls a chance to relax around his cock. You flattened your chest to the bed, allowing your body to open up to him.
Your hips bucked with impatience after a moment, signalling you were ready for more. Moan after moan fell out of you as he started to thrust in and out, “you fuck me so good,” you whined, dragging out the last words. Harry was gripping your hips with both hands as he pushed in and out harder, cock twitching inside of you as his eyes wandered over your rounded ass. He slammed a hand down into one of your cheeks, rubbing it softly after to relieve the sting. You yelped, throwing your hips back into him. He chuckled, spanking you over and over until your walls started to tense around his thick cock. “Gonna come for daddy?” he drawled, reaching a hand around to rub at your clit.
You’d never been this close to your climax from penetration alone. Harry’s cock fit your hole as if it was made for you, your sex bringing you new levels of pleasure like you were only destined to fuck each other. The ball in your core was threatening to burst, so close to breaking point as he slammed in and out of your entrance. “Please Harry. Like that, like that,” you moaned, legs starting to shake and seize beneath you. You were panting heavily, drool spilling out of your mouth as your jaw went slack, screaming out a moan as you came violently on his cock.
“So good for me, baby, so good,” Harry praised, moving his hand from your button as you came down from your high. “Love fucking you raw, knowing you’re filled with my come,” he rambled on, so deep in pleasure that his words were slurring. Your bodies were knocking together forcefully, your juices mixing together and squelching with every thrust. He loved seeing your thick creamy come squeezing out of you, settling at his base. “Want to keep my come inside you all day, have it dripping out of your pretty pussy while you watch me later.”
His words were vulgar, so dirty yet so hot. You groaned in response, picturing it in your mind. No one else knowing the man they were lusting after had filled you up that morning, coated your insides in his pleasure. No one knowing how much he turned you on, how hard he made you come, how crazy he was for you. “Want it so bad daddy, want everyone to see your come dripping down my thighs. Want daddy’s come so much,” you moaned. The use of that name did it for him. How could he contain himself when you were saying such dirty things to him? With one last thrust, Harry was coming inside of you, fulfilling both of your wishes. You couldn’t wait for his show.
“What’s all this?” you asked, stepping out towards the balcony. It was late now, though you hadn’t been back at the hotel long before Harry opened the balcony curtains to show you a surprise. Fairy lights adorned the railing, sparkling bright against the dark evening sky. A bottle of red was nestled in an ice bucket, the tabletop filled with all different types of meat and cheese. “M’usually more of a gentleman before I stuff my cock into someone,” Harry shrugged, leading you towards one of the rattan chairs. His cheeks were pink, stained with his newfound shyness. “Feel bad that I don’t have time t’take you out properly, wanted to do something nice.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, smoothing your hair down before taking the opposite seat. “It’s lovely, thank you, Harry.” You felt totally overwhelmed by the side of him you’d seen today, he was so tender and soft. You knew he had you wrapped around his finger already, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
You spoke for hours about your families, your homes and hobbies. He snapped a picture of you to send to his mum and Gemma, telling you how much they’d adore you. “Gem’s desperate for me to bring a best friend home for her,” he told you. Your heart warmed at the idea of Harry telling his mother and sister about you, wondering what he’d say. How he’d describe who you were to him. Your time together felt like a dirty little secret, something you’d keep close to your chest for years to come before one day spilling all the details to Joanie. It was refreshing to know he was bursting to tell his loved ones.
The wine had hit you both fast, slurring your words slightly. You were nestled in Harry’s lap now, pressing gentle kisses into every bit of visible skin. Drunk on each other, drunk on the atmosphere. You held a foot up, squinting at it through blurry eyes. “I need to paint my toenails,” you groaned, “got man feet when they’re not done.”
Harry gave a great bark of laughter, sliding you off his lap as he stumbled inside. His head peered around the door, asking you what colour you were wearing tomorrow. He came back holding a little red bottle. He held it up next to his face and grinned, “gonna sort your man feet out. Make ‘em dainty like mine,” he pulled a leg up and wiggled his toes for you as he spoke.
He sat you down in your chair, pulling the other closer towards you. Plucking one of your feet from the floor, he rested it against his knee and opened the bottle. You recognised the rounded top, it was Pleasing nail polish. He held each toe delicately, handling the brush so carefully you could barely feel it tracing your toenails. You watched him as he worked, so tender and careful with each stroke. A blush was creeping up your cheeks, your heart glowing so bright it could illuminate the whole city. You buried your face in your hands and let a toothy grin erupt. This was the most intimate thing you’d ever experienced. Harry was truly perfect in every way. When he was done, he pulled you back into his lap, careful not to knock your feet. His arms were wrapped around your shoulders, holding you tight against him. “Y’so perfect for me, baby girl,” he mumbled, pressing his lips into the nape of your neck.
“Want to take you out properly when I’m done, want the world to see who I have on my arm.” You couldn’t imagine any date would be nicer than what you’d had that evening, but the idea of everyone knowing you were his sent electricity up your spine. You lifted your hand to fiddle with his rings, twisting the giant H around his finger. “Got to get my initial next,” you smiled, pulling a different ring off. You slipped the golden S onto your left ring finger, laughing at how loose it was. Holding your hand out in front of you, you wiggled your fingers giddily. “Y/N Styles,” you giggled before slapping a hand to your mouth. A deep blush took over your face almost immediately, you couldn’t believe you’d said that out loud. You let the ring-clad hand drop into your lap, mortified. “You want to marry me already, sweetheart?” Harry teased, moving one arm to entwine his fingers with yours, pulling your hand away from your face just as he’d done that morning. You stuttered, unable to even try to come back from this one. Your face was screwed up in shame as he turned your head to face him. “Play your cards right and maybe I will marry you. Get you in a big white dress, show everyone how much I like you.” Harry was grinning at you, a true lopsided, wine-drunk, love-drunk grin.
You slipped off his lap, padding inside as you called out, “I’m never speaking again!” He chased after you, grabbing your waist and pulling you down onto the bed in a fit of giggles.
You stayed like that until you both fell asleep, blissfully unaware of the media storm erupting outside your bubble.
part four
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boldlyvoid · 2 years
Text
Employee of the Month
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eddie munson x reader
Summary: To make some extra cash before Christmas, Y/N takes a job stocking the grocery store shelves at midnight, unbeknownst to her that her high school crush also works there
Warnings: mutual pining, partial slow burn, parental death, mentions of Eddie's murder charges (now dropped), being ostracized by the town, teasing, flirting, sick Eddie, hurt/comfort, falling in love, first kiss, first times, virgin Eddie, virgin reader, making out, grinding, dry humping, cumming in pants. they're really horny touch starved adults
word count: 9k
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In a last-ditch effort to make some more money this Christmas, she takes a job at the local grocery store to stock the shelves at midnight. It’s not too bad, there are only 16 shelves and about 30 feet of freezer to restock, she gets to bring a walkman and headphones and wear whatever she wants. As long as the shelves look nice come morning, the boss didn’t really care. 
From the first night she worked there she knew it was going to be a good fit, mainly because the other stock person she’s been partnered with is the same guy she had a massive crush on in high school. Eddie Munson had one hell of a year while she was trying to graduate, he was getting accused of murdering her classmates. He disappeared mostly after that, the school gave him a pass and his diploma so they didn’t have to see him again, the town pretended they didn’t try and murder him in revenge for an entire week and she didn’t see him again for a while. 
“Hey,” she waves at him with her lips pressed together in a tight smile, “I’m—
“Y/N,” he points at her name tag with a matching smile. “I take it you’re my new buddy?” 
She nods, “yeah… um, what are we doing tonight?” 
“The snacks and chips aisle, the milk fridge and the cheeses,” he recites the list as he pulls it out of his pocket and hands it to her. 
While she is just in jeans and a sweater, nothing too fancy, he’s in a navy blue jumpsuit with his name embroidered on the left breast, and just under it, the grocery store logo. He was in uniform… “why don’t I have to wear one of those?” 
“Oh, I got this for being the employee of the month,” he shrugs it off, not meaning to brag in the slightest. “You like it?” 
“Yeah,” she smiles like a fool, nodding quickly and looking at the list he handed her to avoid his eye contact. 
She liked him so much in high school, and he was still so cute, it was all coming back to her. He’s much more laid back and reserved now, it has been over a year since she’s seen him in person, too. It made her wonder if he was still that same loud, opinionated nerd that she admired from a distance. 
He’s super nice about teaching her the right way to restock everything, bringing the old stuff to the front and the new things get pushed to the back of each shelf. They split up the aisles and met in the middle, trying to beat each other each time. He sang along to the radio playing over the speakers, and he danced when he thought she wasn’t looking… he was just as cute as he was in high school. 
They end up making a good team, they finish their list and pick up a few extra chores. They change a lightbulb in the guest bathroom, take inventory of the magazines and run disinfectant over every surface they could until their shift ends. It feels like it takes forever, they’re awkward when talking to each other but it’s kinda easy to hang out with him. This was going to be a good job for her. 
“You need a ride home?” He asks in the staff room after work, both of them putting on their coats and scarves. The November chill in Hawkins was not nice. 
She shakes her head and starts to point, “no, I just live—
“You can’t walk home in the middle of the night,” he cuts her off. “There’s too many creeps and animals out there. I don’t mind where it is?” 
“Okay,” she gives in easily. 
She gives him her address as they walk out to his van, he opens the door for her and lets her hop in before closing it for her too. He asks her about how long she’s lived there, trying his best to make conversation but it hurts. 
“Uh, we’ve always lived in Hawkins, my house is still a mess from the earthquake but the insurance is fixing it soon,” she assures, nervous for him to see the state of the place when he pulls up. “If my dad was still here he’d probably have it done by now, but it’s just me and my mom.” 
“God, I’m sorry,” he felt so bad for asking. “That was the worst fucking week ever.” 
“yeah… it sucked for everyone,” she doesn’t even know how to touch upon what he went through. “Glad it’s over.” 
“More than you know,” he sighs, turning onto her road finally. 
He doesn’t want to come in for coffee or anything, he gives her a smile and a wave and watches to make sure she gets inside her house safely before driving away. 
She thinks about him well into the morning when she should be sleeping. It’s easy to get sucked into an imaginary life where he asks her out after a shift and they hang out and fall in love and she finally gets to kiss that smile off his beautiful face… it’s not easy to make it come true. She would go to her grave with the fact she thinks he’s handsome and nice and funny and cute. She’s not big on sharing feelings, having no one to ever really share them with, in the first place. 
She doesn’t see him unless she’s working, which was only 3 nights a week, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. 
She uses those 3 nights wisely. She wears something nice but not too suspicious, and she always smells nice and does the best she can with her hair and makeup… she wants him to think she’s pretty. She wants to catch him staring at her instead of how many times he caught her looking at him as a teenager. 
He tells her that she looks nice every day in many different ways. 
“Did you come straight from the ball, princess?” 
“You know this is a grocery store, not a fashion show, right?” 
And her personal favourite… “It's too cold out there for you to come in looking so hot.” With a wink. A fucking wink. It almost made her pass out. 
He does it just to bug her, he likes to make her squirm and lose every thought in her head. He laughs when she stutters through a response and he always pats her shoulder gently and says, “I just mean you look nice today.” 
She has a hard time reaching the top shelves sometimes and he has no problem coming over and standing real close to her. “Here, I got that,” he says in such a low voice it felt like a whisper. He reaches up and takes everything down for her, “do you want me to put them up for you too?” 
“Sure,” she doesn’t mind, she works on the second highest shelf instead, still close to him, she watches him reach and extend his long arms and puff out his chest and ugh he’s so hot it makes her stare like an idiot. 
“You’re drooling,” he teases her. 
She wipes her face quickly, “what? No, shut up.” 
He just giggles and finishes shoving the new stock toward the back of the shelf. She bumps shoulders with him right before he heads back to his stack of things, he had boxes of croutons to unpack. She was now moving on to salad dressings and other condiments. 
She doesn’t dare start up any conversations, overthinking everything that comes into her head too much. She didn’t feel like he’d find anything she had to say interesting. 
They’re in the soup aisle when he finally speaks again. “Can I ask you something?”
She’s a bit shocked cause he’s been silent for so long, but she nods. 
“When you dream is there ever a specific topic you dream about the most?” 
“Tornados,” she can answer without batting an eye. “I had one the other night actually… I don’t know why but there’s always a tornado.” 
“That is an interesting one… did you just watch a lot of the wizard of oz growing up?” He teases. 
She can’t help but smile, “no, I’ve actually never watched it.” 
“You get more interesting every time you talk,” he means it as a compliment. 
“Yeah? Well, why’d you even ask about dreams? Do you have a good one?”  She turns the conversation back to him, taking a handful of soups and shoving them into the shelf. 
“I keep having dreams in high school where I’m failing again and none of the teachers will pass me,” he explains. “And I had one last night cause I guess seeing you again so much is reminding me of being back in school.” 
“Wait,” she turns to him full of shock and awe, “you remember me?” 
“Of course,” he doesn't see it as a big deal. “Your lunch table was beside ours, I saw you every day?” 
He saw me looking at him often… 
She wants to turn inside out with embarrassment. “Oh, I uh, I didn’t think you paid attention to that.” 
“How could I not? You always reacted the best when I did something stupid,” he reminisces, stepping in closer to her. “And I remember your laugh was cute.” 
She’s too nervous to even giggle awkwardly, he’s in her personal space and he smells good and his eyes are so inviting, “thanks…” all the air in her chest leaves as she melts in front of him. 
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t do all that shit just for your attention,” he admits, licking his lips as he stares at hers. 
It’s like time stops, her brain can’t process all the information so she just blinks a few times and stares back at him with a furrowed brow. “Really?” 
He nods with a laugh, pulling away and returning to the stack of boxes they had to put away. “Yeah, I uh, I should probably feel a little stupid telling you this now after all this time, but uh, you bring the stupid out of me… I kinda had a huge crush on you back then.” 
“Me?” 
“Yeah, you,” he teases. “You act like thats a total surprise? You’re so pretty and you were never mean to me, it was bound to happen.” 
She’s completely dumbfounded, “oh… that’s— I’m nice to everyone? At least I try to be.” 
But then she realizes what he really said, he used to have a crush on her, but that’s long gone. He wouldn’t tell her if he still had one, would he? Guys weren’t that open about feelings, it was always a game with them… right? 
“Sorry,” he realizes he fucked up by telling her. “I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.”
“No, no, it’s fine, it’s just weird for me. I’ve never been told straight up that someone had a crush on me,” she’s really taken aback. “Thanks… really.” 
“Anytime,” he blushes slightly, dropping it there.
He drives her home again like he does every night that she works cause he really can’t stand the idea of her walking home past midnight as the temperature drops. He has tried to offer to pick her up beforehand, but she doesn’t want to put him out, and her mom doesn’t mind dropping her off every night… but he asks again, anyway. 
Parked outside of her house, he turns to her. “Can I please come pick you up before your next shift?” He all but begs. 
“I guess,” she gives in, “why?” 
He shrugs, “I like spending time with you.” 
“Then why don’t you ever want to come in for a coffee?” She combats, really wanting him to come in. “I also have tea and hot chocolate…” 
“Okay,” he gives in right back. “I’ll come in with you, tonight.” 
“Really?” She lights right up and throws off her seatbelt, reaching for the door. 
“Wait, wait, wait!” He panics, rushing out first and coming around to her side to open it up for her, “you’re gonna make me look bad, walking you to the front door and not getting the door for you is a crime.” 
“If you say so,” she laughs at him as she hops out beside him. 
He slams her door closed and with a hand on her back, he leads her toward the front door. “You sure you’re mom's okay with me being in her house?” 
“Yeah, why not?” She honestly forgets. 
“Well, I’m me?” He awkwardly laughs, feeling incredibly nervous about his reputation. “It’s honestly why I’ve not said yes yet, I don’t know who hates me still…” 
“Oh god, no, she doesn’t hate you, she doesn’t hate anyone,” she puts up both hands in a sort of surrender that made him smile. She meant it. “She’s also asleep so you won’t have to talk to her at all.” 
“Okay,” he assures her, rubbing his hand over her shoulder with a smile. 
Every time he looks at her like that she wants to melt right into him, to swim around in the chocolate pools of his eyes for hours on end. He’s so beautiful, she’s never going to get over it. 
He leans in closer, looking at her through his lashes, “Are we going inside soon, it’s cold out here?” 
“Sure, yeah,” she remembers what they were doing, digging her keys out of her pocket. She unlocks the door and pushes it open, slipping in first and letting him follow. 
Inside he kicks off his shoes and hangs up his jacket beside hers before following her all the way into the kitchen. He’s as quiet as a mouse, respecting that her mom is asleep somewhere in the house. 
“So what’ll it be?” She asks, opening up the fridge to take a look while he sits down at the kitchen counter. 
“Oh, I’m good, I just wanted to come in with you,” he admits but by the look on her face, she doesn’t believe him. “Seriously, I’m just going to go home and sleep anyway, it’s fine.” 
“You’ve gotta have something… come on?” She stares him down, “Pepsi? Ginger ale? Water? What about a snack?” 
“I’m fine,” he means it. “What do you normally have when you come home?” 
“It’s always different, sometimes my mom makes something for us for dinner and other nights I just have like a pop tart,” she shares, opening the cupboard and taking out a box. 
“I could actually go for a pop tart,” he admits, eyes up the box in her hands. 
She laughs and opens up one of the silver, crinkly packets and hands him one. He takes a big bite and dramatically throws his head back with a groan, “fuck, I forgot how good these are.”
“And you would’ve kept forgetting if you didn’t come in with me, so I guess you have to from now on,” she teases, feeling a lot more confident with him suddenly… she felt like things could be fun between them. If he wasn’t going to fall in love with her, she might as well try for being his best friend. 
“You’re too cute to say no to,” he can’t help but smile at her. 
“Again, you’re the only one to think so,” she rolls her eyes, not believing him. He was just a flirt, it wasn’t the truth… right?
“More for me, then,” he shrugs, taking another bite from his pop tart and dropping it there. 
“Are you sure you don’t need a ride?” Her mom asks from the kitchen. 
“I’m fine,” she calls back, staring out the front window, watching the street for Eddie’s van. “My co-worker offered to pick me up.” 
“Oh, which one?” 
“Um, Eddie…” she turns around slowly to see her mom standing in the doorway now. “Eddie Munson.” 
“Oh,” she is a little shocked to hear that name after so long. “I didn’t know he was still in Hawkins?” 
“He works nights so no one has to see him,” she explains, “cause people are mean… he was really scared to come in last night after work cause he didn’t want to upset you by coming into your house.” 
“Poor boy,” she feels so bad, never wanting her home to strike fear in someone. “I knew you wouldn’t have a crush on a monster, and the police cleared him, this town owes him an apology too.” 
“I know,” she agrees but she doubts it’ll ever happen. 
Sometime during their chat, Eddie pulled up outside and made his way to her front door where he laid a few knocks. She opens the door with a huge smile, “hi, sorry you didn’t have to come all the way to the door.” 
“I wanted to,” he assures her, seeing her mom peeking over her shoulder. “Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N.” 
“Hello,” she gives him a little wave. “Have fun at work you two, I’ll see you, tomorrow sweetheart.” 
“Bye mom,” she slips outside with Eddie, knowing her mom was going to watch them walk back to his van. 
He extends his hand and holds hers as they walk down the few steps of her porch, he drops her hand only to place it on her back as he leads her toward the passenger door. He opens for her, like always. He runs around the van, sends a wave to her mom at the door and then hops inside, “ready?” 
“Ready,” she can’t bite back her smile anymore, she was so giddy about holding his hand that it made her feel like a little girl again. 
He pauses for a moment and looks her up and down, “did you get all dolled up 'cause I’m driving you?” 
She tilts her head to the side, annoyed cause he always asks, “I always look like this.” 
“Beautiful, you mean?” 
She walked right into that one. 
“Fine, I’ll let you have it this time,” she gives in. 
“Good,” he throws the van in drive and heads out of her little neighbourhood towards town. 
He’s quiet for a bit, she looks around at the street lights and the businesses still open, as well as all the houses with their Christmas lights up already. “I miss it was still kinda sunny out at 8pm,” she sighs, staring out the window at the full moon rising over Hawkins. 
“I like the dark,” he shares. “Less people are out.” 
“Why don’t you move? Not that I want you to leave, but wouldn’t it be more freeing to have no one know who you are? You deserve a real life,” she lets her feelings fall right out. “You’re not a bad person, you never have been.” 
“Thanks,” he reaches out his hand and rests it on her thigh. “But it’s ‘cause everyone I love is here, I can’t leave.” 
“Right, so are you still in your band then?” 
He lets out a very surprised chuckle, “yeah, I still have my band, we still play Tuesday nights, it's the only night I don’t work.” 
She wouldn’t know that cause she didn’t work that night either, “I’ll have to come see you play sometime, I don’t have any classes that night.” 
“Oh, I didn’t know you were in school still?” 
“Community college,” she doesn’t feel so ashamed telling him. “Most my friends went off to real schools but it’s the only place I could go to for free, so.” 
“Hey, at least you got in,” he celebrates the bare minimum. “I couldn’t even dream of it with my GPA. I was thinking I’d wait a few years and get some kind of degree when I’m considered a mature student, and when people forget about me.” 
She wants to tell him that she’ll never forget about him, she never did. She thought about him all the time. She couldn’t hear Metallica on the radio without thinking about him. Every jean jacket patch made her think about him. She took a double take when she saw a man with long hair hoping it was him. She thought about him before she went to bed, in her dreams and as soon as her eyes opened in the morning. 
She was completely in love with him. 
She was only going to work for the holidays, and now that Christmas was only a few days away, she was worried that she only has a few more weeks left with Eddie. And for some reason that makes her want to get him a Christmas present, almost as a way to buy a place in his heart so he doesn’t forget about her when she’s not his buddy anymore. 
And then he doesn’t show up for work… she’s been waiting to see him all week, and he’s a no-show.
So she asks her shift manager who says Eddie called out earlier in the day really, really sick. It makes her heart hurt knowing he wasn’t feeling good. 
So she pushes through her shift. It’s weird without him, but she does it. She walks home for the first time and it’s a lot colder than she expected. The wind on her face and the snow in her hair, melt as the heat from her body escapes from her head. She gets home finally and she’s shivering, she wants to wrap herself up in a blanket and sleep for days, instead goes right to the kitchen. She searches through her cupboards for a couple cans of chicken noodle soup and some crackers, she grabs a few cans of ginger ale and takes her mom's keys. There’s no way she’s going back out there 
She drives right into the trailer park and follows the road slowly, scanning the driveways for eddies van until she finally finds it. She parks outside the blue and white trailer and carefully heads towards his door, not wanting to slip with a handful of cans. 
She knocks carefully, the lights are all still on so it’s not like she’s waking him up… and then another man she doesn’t know answers. “Yes?” 
“Hi, I’m so sorry but is this Eddie’s trailer?” She panics. 
“It is.” 
“I brought him some soup, I heard he was sick and that’s why he couldn’t make it to work tonight…” 
“Oh, that’s sweet, come on in out of the cold,” he ushers her right inside the tiny trailer. “Sorry for the mess, we’ve both been battling this random cold, I got it at the plant and he finally got it from me yesterday.” 
“Oh no, I’m sorry,” she sympathizes as she lays everything down on his kitchen counter. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 
“Wayne, Eddies uncle,” he introduces himself. “He’s talked a lot about you, I was wondering when I’d get to meet ya.” 
“Oh, really?” She can’t believe it. 
“yeah… you know, I can put that soup on, you can go down the hall there and see him, he’s just reading in bed, I think?” He points. 
“Oh, okay sure,” she doesn’t mind, she was honestly expecting Eddie to live alone and have an empty kitchen, not an uncle who loved him dearly there to take care of him. 
She shrugs off her coat and takes off her boots first and then she heads down the hallways carefully, she knocks on his closed door, waiting for the all-clear to enter… and his “yeah?” Comes out so sad and sickly that it makes her heart hurt. 
She pushes the door open carefully, “hey… I heard you were sick?” 
“Y/N?” He sits right up, fixing his hair and wiping his nose. “I didn’t think you knew where I lived?” 
“I just looked for the van, I think everyone knows you live in the trailer park,” she realizes how weird that sounds. 
“True, still I can’t believe you’re here?” 
She comes in and takes a seat on the edge of his bed, putting out her hand to hold the back of it to his forehead, “you’re all fevered, oh no… have you taken anything?” 
He nods, “yeah, some Buckleys…” 
“I brought you some soup, Wayne’s heating it up for you,” she explains with a soft smile. “He’s sweet.” 
“Where’d you think I got my charm from?” He teases, still well enough to try and make her smile. 
She brushes his hair off his face gently, “I’m glad you have him to take care of you.” 
“I’d much prefer you as my nurse… would you give me a sponge bath?” 
“No,” she holds back her laugh and just shakes her head with a smile. “But nice try.” 
“Damn,” he sighs, tossing his head back against the pillow and closing his eyes. Turning on the dramatics, he looks at her with the sweetest puppy dog eyes, “will you at least keep me company while I have my soup?” 
“Of course,” she planned to stay as long as he needed her. “I just have to bring my mom's car back before 8am cause she needs to go to work.” 
“I promise I won’t keep you long,” he reaches out for her hand, holding them with both of his own. “I really appreciate you coming to check on me… and might I say you look very cute today, I’m glad I didn’t miss this one.” 
She melts at his words, “you must not be too sick if you’re still trying to flirt with me.” 
“I’m going to remind you that you’re beautiful until the day I die,” he’s very stern about that. 
“Yeah, like you’ll know me that long,” she plays it off. 
He gives her hands a little squeeze, “I like to think I will… I might just be high on cough syrup, but I like to think I’ll find you in every life I lead, you’re so special to me, Y/N.” 
“You’re definitely high,” she teases, leaning in forward to kiss his forehead as she stands up. “I’m going to check on your soup… you sober up by the time I get back.” 
“Yeah, yeah,” he agrees but doesn’t drop her hands, he holds on as long as he can and then she slips away from him. 
Wayne’s just putting the soup in a bowl as she walks back into the kitchen, she grabs a sleeve of soup crackers and a ginger ale, it's plated and then Wayne turns to her. 
“You know he’s not kidding, right?” 
“What?” 
“He wouldn’t lie,” Wayne gives her those honest Munson eyes that she loves so much in his nephew. “And clearly you feel the same if you’ve come all the way out here at half midnight to make him soup.” 
She feels the colour leave her face as she’s caught red-handed, she was doing this because she loved him so dearly she couldn’t stand spending a shift without seeing him. She wanted to always take care of him. She loved him. It was as simple as that. She just loves him. 
“Life’s too short to not tell each other,” he adds some last words of wisdom and hands her the tray of her lover's dinner. 
She’s extra quiet when she brings him his dinner, and when she sits on the end of his bed to accompany him while he eats. He has a book resting face down, cracked open to keep its page, resting beside him. She reaches for it, checking the cover, it’s the fellowship of the ring. 
“I’ve never read The Lord of the Rings, is it good?” 
“It’s the best book series there is,” he assures her while taking another spoonful of soup. 
She keeps her thumb where Eddie was reading but skips back to the first few pages, reading it over quietly to see if she’d like it at all… it’s cute. “You can read it from the beginning if you want?” 
“Out loud?” She wonders if he’d want to hear that too. 
“As if you could get any better,” he manages to smile no matter how sick he feels. “Please, I’d really love that.” 
“Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.”
He basks in the way her voice sounds alongside his favourite book, words he’s read so many times and heard in his own voice now being retold in hers. He listens ever so intently, enjoying it more than she’d ever know as she watches the page, trying her hardest not to stutter and to pronounce all the words right so he didn’t laugh at her… but even when she gets stuck he just affectionately corrects her and admires her as she continues. 
She makes it through the prologue and the facts about hobbits and pipeweed and the shire by the time he’s done eating. He has enough energy to take his dishes out to the kitchen himself and returns with a smile. She made her way up to the pillows beside him and slipped under the covers so he could get in beside her, “come on, I’m reading you a chapter or two and then I’ve gotta go home.” 
“Right,” he gets into the bed beside her and snuggles right up to her, he wraps himself around her arm with his cheek on her shoulder so he can watch the page as she reads on through chapter one. 
He falls asleep like that, with a warm belly full of soup and a heart full of love, it pains her to get up and possibly disrupt him. 
She does get up, slowly but surely, replacing herself with a pillow that he snuggles up to instead. She kisses him on the forehead, he’s not as fevered as before, hopefully he felt better tomorrow. She takes a look around for a scrap piece of paper, finding one on his dresser with a sharpie marker. She leaves her phone number and a little note. 
Call me tomorrow, I want to know if you’re feeling better. Hopefully we can finish this sometime. 
xx Y/N
She slips it into the book and leaves it on his night table and then she’s off. She says goodbye to Wayne who’s still awake because if he sleeps he’ll throw off his schedule when he goes back to work. He also did night shifts, so he wouldn’t be there next time she comes over after work… that’s good to know. 
He takes the whole weekend off and it sucks, but she understands he needs the time to get better. He calls her to let her know that decision around 2pm on Saturday and they stay on the phone all the way up until she has to get ready for work. 
Waynes gone back to work, leaving him completely alone in the trailer after they hang up the phone… and all he can think about is how she’s going to have to walk home again. It rattles around his brain most of the night, he paces the trailer, feeling like shit but his love for her is eating him alive and it hurts more than his congested nose. At 11:52 he finally says fuck it. 
In his pyjamas and all, he throws on a coat and slips his feet into his boots, he snags his keys off the wall and he’s gone. He books it out of the trailer park, watching the clock on his dash to ensure midnight doesn’t sneak up on him. The streets are empty, so he doesn’t worry about racing through the yellow lights on his way to the store. 
He pulls up with just a few minutes to spare, his heart racing, he just parks at the curb by the employee's only back door and he waits for her. He reaches over to the passenger door to roll down the window, wanting her to be able to see him… as if she wouldn’t notice that it’s his van. She knew his van. 
She knew him. 
And she liked him. 
The heavy door slowly opens and he sees her, laughing with their co-worker as she buttons up the last few buttons on her jacket. She’s bundled up in a scarf and she has a hat on today, she planned to be warmer on tonight's walk home.  
“Eddie?” She lights right up. “What are you doing here.” 
“I may be on my death bed but I’m not letting you walk home in the dark, princess,” he assures her, pushing the door open so she can get in. 
She waves goodbye to their co-worker, finishing their conversation before she hops in the van and closes the door. She rolls the window back up. “Burr, you’re you’re going to get sicker with this open.” 
“I hope you don’t find it weird that I’m here?” He worries, “seriously, after everything that happened here, walking home alone at midnight isn’t smart… it killed me that you walked home yesterday and then still came to see me.” 
“I know, it’s okay,” she reaches out to hold his gently in hers. “You can pick me up and drive me home all the time if it makes you feel better?” 
“You’ve gotta want to spend time with me too,” he places his other hand on top of hers. “Don’t feel like you have to be nice to me, little miss I’m nice to everyone.” 
“I am,” she feels offended. “I know you’re not stupid, you’ve gotta see I love spending time with you.” 
“I like to hear you say it, sue me,” he smiles, his eyes flicking back and forth between her eyes and her lips. He’s so close to her already that he could kiss her. 
But then he’d get her sick. 
So he pulls back a bit and pats her hand as her grip loosens. “Let’s get you home.” 
“Yeah,” she settles into her seat and puts on her seatbelt, he waits for the click and then he’s off, taking the familiar route back to her place. 
He asks her about her day, what they did, and how they’re doing without him. She missed him, he can tell by the way she complains about being partnered with someone new. “They didn’t do anything the way you do, it felt so wrong.” 
She thinks I do things the right way…
His heart soars the whole ride and then it ends too soon. He parks at the curb with a sigh, “I’m going to be up for a bit if you want to call me?” 
“You don’t want to come in?” 
He shakes his head, “I can’t get my germs all over your place.” 
“Right, no I get it,” she understands, but she lingers. He stares at him for a sec, “walk me to my door at least?” 
“Sure,” he can’t say no to her. 
She stays put this time, he runs around to her door and opens it, expecting her to jump right out but she pulls him close, using her height in the seat to her advantage. She touches his forehead gently, “you’re not fevered today, that’s good at least… I’d hate to miss another week with you.” 
“I’ll come get you tomorrow, but I’m not working,” he compromises, knowing he hates not getting to see her too. 
She hops out of the van and takes his hand on the way up to her door, “I could get used to this treatment.” 
“You should,” he agrees. “Cause I’m not giving up.” 
In sickness and in health and all that jazz… he’d be there through it all if she wanted him. 
At her door, she gives him those same eyes as in the van, and he wants to kiss her so goddamn bad but he can’t. He simply pulls her into a hug and holds her tight, cheek pressed to the top of her head. She holds him around the middle just as tightly, it's a beautiful goodbye for a couple of friends. 
He comes to pick her up for her next shift once again, only this time he pulls her into a hug at the door and kisses the top of her head, “hey, sweetheart, ready for work?” 
She can only nod against him, soaking in the hug as long as she can get. “What was that for?” She asks as he pulls back. 
He shrugs, “just cause… I missed you, I guess.” 
“I missed you, too,” she wraps her arm around his middle and holds him close as she joins him on the walk back to his van. “Which is funny 'cause we’ve been talking more than ever, lately.” 
“I know,” he loved it and it was evident in his voice. 
Every night that she’s not working they talk on the phone, from the time she’s done with her classwork until he has to leave for his night shifts. It was a lovely little tradition now, he loved to learn about all her projects and reports, and he even let her read things over for his opinion. More than once he’s called her a genius, but the best thing he’s ever said to her was “your future kiddos are going to love you.” In regard to the class of students, she was going to teach one day. 
It’s a day like any other, they have little conversations on their way to work, clock in together and head right to the first aisle on their to-do list. He dances around to the music, they toss things at each other, he makes dirty jokes, and she shakes her head with so much love you could see hearts float around her head. It’s so completely normal. 
And then she almost drops a whole shelf on herself, he’s quick to swoop in and catch it for her. They put it back in place and carefully let it go, making sure it stays put before she turns to thank him… only he’s about an inch, maybe two from her face. 
“That was a close one,” he whispers, staring at her lips. “Would hate to lose you to the soup aisle.” 
She can’t help staring back at his lips, wanting to kiss him so goddamn bad she forgets how to breathe for a moment. It’s like time stops while she stares at him and he stares back. 
“I’d hate to lose you at all…” 
“Why?” Even she’s surprised to hear it come out of her. 
He doesn’t say anything, he simply leans in more, and so does she. Meeting him halfway, their lips touch slowly and then all at once. A hand of his cups her face, holding her in place while she holds his sides, pulling him closer so their chests are pressed together. 
Breathing each other in deeply, she feels her soul intertwine with his at that moment. Everything makes sense. She was supposed to take this little job and spend all this time with him for this moment right here. It was always supposed to happen. 
They were meant to happen. 
They pull away with a matching smile, giggling as they come to terms with the fact that just happened… it finally happened. 
“You understand what I mean, right?” He teases. 
She nods, “yeah… I get it, but could you say it just one more time?” 
“Here?” He teases, kissing her cheek. “Or here?” He kisses her jaw next and moves towards her ear, “I could say it all over you if you let me.” 
“We’re still at work,” she reminds him, pushing him away slightly before he could kiss her neck and start something he couldn’t finish in the freaking soup aisle. 
“Do you want to come over later? To kiss a bit and read more lord of the rings?” He offers, making it sound a lot more innocent than either of them wanted it to be. 
“Only if you read the chapter this time,” she teases, heart racing in her chest at the prospect of being alone with him. 
Him. 
The one and the only crush she’s had for the last 6 years of her life. 
He flirts with her more than ever after that, he steals kisses every time he passes her and even serenades the love songs on the speaker to her. She pokes his sides when she passes by him, learning that he’s ticklish and he yelps every time she does it. 
In his van on the way home, after not being able to keep their hands off each other most of the night, they have to so he can focus on the road. 
“Does this make us more than friends?” She wonders aloud, hoping he had the same worry. 
He nods, “I’d hope so… but if you want me to ask, I can?” 
He holds her hand in the middle of the centre console again, rubbing his thumb over her hand gently. 
“What if I want to do it?” She teases. “I want to make you my boyfriend, I’ve thought about it for years.” 
“That’s crazy,” he can’t believe it, shaking his head as he drives a bit faster, wanting to be home with her so bad. 
“Why?” She sounds so defeated. 
“I never thought you liked me, I thought you were just really smiley… you could’ve been mine this whole time,” he explains just how crazy it was for him. In a very good way. 
“I can’t even imagine having a boyfriend in high school,” she admits. 
He slows down when he enters the trailer park, follows the poorly plowed path towards his own trailer and parks. Finally turning to her again with a smile, “I’ve never had a girlfriend before either, it’s all really new to me too.” 
“Was that your first kiss too?” She whispers, scared that it wasn’t. 
She was right. 
He shakes his head, “Cheryl Lenetti in grade 7… she liked to pet my head when we made out, she said my hair felt like a seal pup when it was shaved. So fuckin weird.” 
It makes her laugh a bit, “I can’t imagine it short…” 
“I’ve got pictures,” he assures her, “Wayne’s kept all my life well documented. He likes to tease me and say that he’ll sell the embarrassing ones to the tabloids when my band blows up.” 
“I need to see them,” she agrees and lets go of his hand finally, reaching for her door but once again, Eddie rushes out to beat her to it like a bat out of hell. 
She shakes her head with an affectionate smile, taking his hand again once outside and carefully treating through the lightly shovelled snow leading up to his trailer. He helps her out of her coat and hangs it up for her, leaving her to kick off her boots and awkwardly stand in his main room. It’s a lot more put together than the last time he visited. like he planned to invite her over, so it was clean this time. 
“You want anything to eat?” 
She shakes her head, “no… honestly I’m too nervous to eat anything right now.” 
“Oh, why?” He moves into her space, hands on her shoulders, slipping down her arms while pulling her in closer. 
“You’re handsome and you want to kiss me and I have no idea what I’m doing and— and,” she stops with a sigh and a shrug. 
“You’re so fucking cute,” he says with so much affection his smile makes his cheeks hurt. His eyes glisten back at her, and he shakes his head ever so slightly, amazed that she likes him back this much. “You don’t need to be nervous, there’s nothing you could do that would make me stop liking you at this point.” 
She takes the plunge this time, she presses her lips against his, holding his waist she wraps her arms around his back and holds him there. He’s shocked at first and then he settles, hand coming up to cup her face as he kisses back. She’s not completely sure what she’s doing, but she’s seen enough movies to imitate what she’s seen. He smiles into the 4th or 5th peck she presses to his lips and pulls back. 
“Do you want to go sit down?” 
“Like in your room?” 
“If you want?” 
She nods, cautious as ever but she wants to spend the whole night kissing him. He walks her down the hallway, into his dark room where he flicks on his side table lamp to show off his perfectly made bed and clean-ish room. “Welcome back,” he teases. 
“You planned this,” she calls him out. “Did you know you were going to kiss me at work today?”
“Not at all,” he assures her, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. Legs spread so she could stand between them, and she brushes her hands through his hair while he looks up at her. “I was going to ask you to come over, yeah, but kissing you was a surprise to me too… I like you so much it’s fucking crazy.” 
“I like you just as much,” she leans in, bumping their noses together with a smile. “You want to teach me how to make out?” 
He laughs, scooting up to the head of the bed, resting against the headrest, “you want to lie down or sit in my lap, or what?” 
“Um,” she bites her lip, deciding to be daring, she kneels on the bed and straddles his lap. “This is good, right?” 
“Absolutely,” he rests his hands on her hips, smoothing his thumbs over the fabric of her pants. “I just want you to be comfortable, princess.” 
She rests her forearms on his shoulders, hands in his hair, and she brushes his bangs out of his face to get a good look in his eyes. His big beautiful chocolate brown eyes that she loves so fucking much. “You’re so pretty,” she whispers. “Has anyone ever told you that?” 
He shakes his head lightly, “no…”
“There,” she smiles. “You get my first kiss and I get to tell you how pretty you are—
“You can have all my other firsts too,” he whispers, selling his soul to her in the way he stares at her. She knows he’s giving all of himself to her at that moment. “You can have all of me.” 
“I— I uh, I think we can start with kissing,” she frightens right up again. 
“Sorry,” he runs his hands up her back gently, “I’m not expecting anything… I just wanted you to know there’s a lot I haven’t done with anyone either, I’m just as new to this. We’re on the same level.” 
“Not yet,” she finally leans in for another kiss, holding his face in her hands to keep herself steady more than anything.
He licks at her bottom lip, it’s strange but she follows his lead, coming back in with an open mouth their tongues touch for a moment and then he sucks on her tongue. Again and again, they both come back in, exploring each other's mouths while his hands trail up and down her back and she plays with his hair once again. 
She doesn’t mean to grind against him, but her hips take over like they have a mind of their own as the pace and rhythm are set with through tongues. He moans into her mouth, pulling back with a shade of embarrassment painted across his cheeks. “sorry…” 
“It’s fine,” she’s a little breathless, so enamoured with him. 
He stares back at her fondly, taking in how cute she looked with lust-blown eyes and swollen lips, he smiles, “you’re good at this…” 
“Feels like it,” she teases, making him think she can feel how hard he’s getting under her and he panics. 
“You don’t have to sit on me if it’s uncomfortable, I did’t mean to—
“To what?” 
“Get hard…” he whispers, “it’s embarrassing.”
“Oh,” she hovers and looks down between them, more turned on, herself, than she realized, as well. “Oh.”
Maybe I am ready to do this…
She settles back down against him and shakes her head, “no, I’m not uncomfortable… it— it’s nice to know I did that, actually.” 
“Can I just—“ he reaches between them and adjusts himself because it was a bit uncomfortable for him, he was hanging to the left and thats where her thigh was rested, and now he’s right under her… “sorry, it hurt a bit.” 
“Sorry,” her cheeks heat up, she can feel his girth through his jeans, she has to fight every single urge not to grind down against him again, but she knows it would feel good. 
For both of them. 
“It’s okay, kiss me again?” He begs, pulling her closer. 
Their lips collide again but with much more passion and need this time, knowing what she’s doing a bit better, she’s all over him this round. Biting his lip, making him whine, tugging on his hair, she grinds against him again, not so by accident because his hands on his hips help glide her over himself perfectly. She does it again this time, he gasps into the kiss and rests his forehead against hers as she does it again and again, dragging her hot core over his aching, clothed, cock. There’s so much friction from their jeans, they feel like total fucking teenagers dry humping in his bed like they can’t get enough of each other. 
He kisses her jaw and down her neck, he sucks on her pulse point which makes her moan, it's so sweet and sexy that his cock twitches under his jeans in response. She feels it and whines, wanting more from him but not knowing what… it feels so fucking good she wants to just say fuck it and let him take her right here and now, but she’s still scared. 
She grinds down a bit harder, the seam of her pants rubbing against her clit just right. “Oh my god,” she’s so out of breath, it feels too good. 
“I’m gonna cum in my jeans if you keep this up,” he warns her, breathing against her neck between kisses. 
“Me too,” she assures him, doing it again and again, she tugs on his hair to bring his mouth back to hers, wanting to be kissing him when it happens. 
His hips come up to meet hers, his hands on her ass this time so he can help her press against him as hard as she can each time she grinds down against him. Her legs tremble a bit, his breathing sputters, and they’re a completely sweaty mess with too many clothes on. 
She feels the all too familiar heat build in her stomach and spread throughout her body as she cums with a long drawn-out sigh, which ends more like a moan as he finishes underneath her. His grip on her ass tightens, and he groans deeply as his hips sputter under her, their foreheads resting together as they catch their breath, eyes still closed. 
She feels so weightless and free, resting her head on his shoulder instead and cuddling into his chest. “Oh my god?” 
His chest still rising and falling heavily, he laughs slightly, “wasn’t expecting that.” 
“Me either…” she sighs, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “But I liked it.” 
“Me too,” he can’t help but smile. His hands roam all over her back, holding her close and soaking up the moment as long as he can. “You wanna stay here tonight?” 
She nods against him, not at all ready to leave his side. “I would love to.” 
Slowly but surely, they get up, he lets her use the bathroom first, giving her some boxers of his and a t-shirt to wear when she comes back out. He changes quickly in his room, hiding all the evidence of what happened in his dirty laundry hamper. He matches her in a new pair of underwear and the same shirt from before, smiling when she comes back into his room with her things in her hands. She rests them on his dresser, she’d have to wear them again tomorrow when she goes home. 
“You’re so cute in my things,” he compliments her, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her forehead a few times. 
“Thanks,” she giggles, completely blown away still that this is all real and he’s her’s and it’s happening. 
They get into bed, and she snuggles into him the same way he did with her just last week with the lord of the rings. It’s cute, it feels right, and she feels at home in his arms. He runs his hands over her back. He kisses the top of her head a few times, she plays with the hem of his shirt in her hands and eventually slips her hands under his shirt to play with the slight dusting of hair on his tummy. They’re so content together it’s like they’ve always been this close. 
And they always would be too. 
part two
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clairdelunelove · 3 months
Text
winning game
itadori yuuji x f!reader
genre: fluff (gamer!yuuji drabble!)
warnings: suggestive, broad gamer lingo, 2k words
synopsis: yuuji's great at everything and, unsurprisingly, he's an amazing gamer. but what happens when he gets a little– say– distracted?
a.n. woAH who wrote this?! hehe but hear me out, I luv watching streams and I lowkey game on the side soo, this was expected. this was HEAVILY inspired by @r5x95r13ros's beautiful art. I apologize for the person I became while writing this. but oh my gosh, did it change me. (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)
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gamer!yuuji who begs you to sit on his lap while he's gaming because he loves the way you feel on him
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gamer!yuuji who normally doesn’t mind any type of video game genre. it’s fun! just a little hobby that helps him destress after a long day. as long as he has friends that are willing to play, he’s satisfied. however, it’s rather interesting that he seems to do exceptionally well in fps games. it could be due to the fact that he has reflexes like no other. he can and will adapt to any situation, regardless of the fact that he might not have the most experience in the game or he’s still learning the basics. focuses on minor details; like an enemy’s character model glitching through the wall or hearing their footsteps on the floorboards. any hint that’ll pinpoint his enemies location. which is 100% why he’d have his volume turned up to the max. also, he’s a proficient learner. think of him as the type of person that’s automatically skilled at a game even if he’s never played it before. even in real combat, he just has a knack of strategizing ten steps ahead of the enemy team and wins rounds because of it. and he doesn’t possess a competitive drive like some of the ‘rage-quitters’ on his team but he locks in if he manages to make a mistake. he’ll express a sincere, “my bad!” and then douse the entire opposition the next round, making it to the top of the leaderboard. he has this adorable habit where if he unlocks an incredibly rare achievement and you compliment him on the feat, he’ll tilt his head in confusion. just doesn’t grasp how impressive he is. yet he feeds into your praise like if you had a carrot on a stick. beams at you and cheers, “did you see that? did you think it was cool? I can do it again, watch!” 
gamer!yuuji who tries his hardest to stay quiet while he’s on a voice call with friends but you know it won’t last long. you’re relaxing on his small dorm bed, stretched out while scrolling through your phone, and he’s situated at his desk. there’s a controller cradled in his slender fingers. it’s his preferred way of playing fps games and it’s definitely not the easiest (or most frequently used method) but he’s told you that he enjoys the challenge. doesn’t mind not having hotkeys or easy movement to aid him throughout gameplay. hence, causing his skill to be that much more impressive. the neon colors of his pc illuminate the darkened room, creating a glow around his sharp features and his concentration on the screen in front of him gives you the (very) necessary time to appreciatively stare. he’s clad in the dark, hooded zip up jacket that you gifted him for his birthday. you don’t question the logic of how he can hear when his headphones are over the hoodie that’s haphazardly draped over his pink hair. gaze flitting downward, you’re gnawing on your lower lip when the black tank top yuuji’s wearing does little to conceal his collarbones and the prominent dip of his chest. and the attractive sight is almost enough for you to excuse the raucous callouts that leave his lips. “flanking in,” he announces as he subconsciously leans closer to his screen to get a better view, “crap! they’re baiting! to your right!” and he tries to lessen the intensity of his voice– he really does– but he’s caught in the thrill of being the last person alive on his team. 
gamer!yuuji who’s justification for loading into another match is, “it’ll be quick, promise!” he always keeps his promises to you and this is no exception. though, through his headphones, his friends are loudly pleading for him to play another round. and you just don’t have the heart to tell yuuji to turn their request down. “you can play another, yuu. I can wait,” you suggest with a knowing smile. he moves to pull the headset’s mic away and his lips are pulled into a small frown. his words are soft as he asks, “you sure? I can always tell them I gotta spend time with my girl, ya know. they’ll understand.” and there’s a heat that engulfs you at his casual endearment for you that he uses with his friends. you hum, aware that yuuji deserves to relish in some alone time, “yup! don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you’re done.” after your answer, he seems to contemplate your decision because his brows are furrowed. there’s a sharp glint in his eyes that you recognize and know that he’s come up with a consensus. finally, he leans in his seat to press a delicate kiss on your cheek and murmurs a proposal that benefits the both of you, “sit on my lap for this round, will you? jus’ wanna hold you while I’m playing.” and to prove his point, he swivels his chair in your direction. it's a dangerous game he's playing but he hasn't caught on yet. instead, he moves to spread his legs to make enough room for you, his sweatpants causing the motion to be effortless, and ushers you to him with a pat to his thigh. 
gamer!yuuji who doesn’t feel the slightest bit of embarrassment or shame when his friends clown him over voice chat for whispering sweet nothings into your ear. he’s enamored by you! thinks that he received a literal blessing when the two of you started dating because, like, you’re perfect! and if you don’t share his sentiment then he’ll continually show you that you’re the only one for him. thus, he feels obligated to remind you every single chance he has. “you’re so pretty,” he coos when you’re seated on his lap. his chest is pressed against your back and quite frankly, it’s almost too surreal for him. this angle is, also, absolutely ideal for him to shower you with the praise and attention that you deserve. and goodness, yuuji makes certain of it. he implores you by lifting your chin with his index finger, his touch is gentle. however, the gaze that he settles upon you is heavy. “the prettiest,” he slurs, “all f’me, right?” and this man has his mic unmuted the entire time. of course his friends are quick to tease him, tossing in their own complaints of, “c’mon man!” or “get a room, lovebirds!” but yuuji’s on cloud nine when you’re in his lap like this. you, on the other hand, are the epitome of flustered. you’re reminded of the breadth of his physique because while he’s not necessarily the biggest male in the world, he’s still brawny. with his sleeves pushed up to his forearms, he reaches around you to grab his controller again and utters a teasing, “aw, you guys are haters,” to his friends. unperturbed by their protests, he leans closer, lulled by your saccharine perfume, and rests his head on your shoulder. just a moment of peace shared between the both of you. his arms come around to encase you in a warm embrace, sweetly asking if you’re comfortable, and before long he’s loading up into another game. 
gamer!yuuji who, while waiting for his teammates to rez him, rests his large hands on your thighs. it’s almost alarming how natural the action is. the scenario that usually happens is that he ends up swearing when his character dies, places his controller down, and dives right back into latching onto your thighs. finds pleasure in how soft you are between his strong fingers. “you need anything? water? snacks?” he asks, ready to do anything for your comfort. his fingertips lovingly trace circles on the curve of your upper thighs as he waits for your answer. a mischievous grin dances on his face when he quickly adds, “more kisses?” and his eagerness causes you to giggle as you teasingly push him away when he drifts toward you. “if you win the game I’ll give you a kiss,” you offer and his eyes light up at your words. but then he’s pouting, “but I haven’t kissed you all day!” and you would’ve felt guilty, given his wide eyes and somber dip of his pretty lips, if it wasn’t for the fact that he already has. “you just gave me a kiss, yuu,” you remind him while you’re still comfortably tucked into his chest. “that was just a kiss on the cheek,” he clarifies and huffs like it was obvious, “let me make it up to you now.” but he’s interrupted by one of his friends hollering for him to focus and you’re a fit of giggles when he outwardly sulks. “they need their star player,” you croon. 
gamer!yuuji who’s reduced to sloppy aim/bad callouts because you’re whispering praises and pressing hot kisses on his neck. you didn’t think it’d end up like this but you can’t help but purr, “did so good, yuu. I’m so proud of you,” when he manages to wipe the opposing squad. and at the recognition, he readjusts himself in his seat and nods to himself. like he’s not expecting the low drawl in your tone. or how warm you are in his lap. there’s a foggy daze in his eyes when you angle yourself closer to him so it’d be easier to cheer him on. “hah, you’re proud of me?” he repeats, eyes glued to the screen in hopes of hearing your pretty voice again. you hum, drawing yourself into the junction of his neck and pressing a sticky kiss at the sensitive spot, “mhm, so proud.” he almost drops his controller, scrambling to regain hold on it, and clears his throat at his mishap when his friends comment on it. his ears are tinged red and he weakly breathes out your name. a warning? a plea for more? you’re not sure but it’s hypnotic the way his eyes droop until they’re half-lidded. it’s when you nip at his neck that he smacks a hand over his mouth to muffle the groan that threatens to leave his lips. “not fair,” he rasps as he misses his shots due to your teasing. his team is losing and their star player is slowly losing his concentration the more the match goes on. you trail kisses along the expanse of his neck, reveling in how he squirms from underneath you. he’s melting. fully dizzy when you press another open-mouthed kiss below his jaw. the game ends with yuuji winning but that’s not his biggest victory at the moment. scrambling to mute himself on his mic, he pivots his attention to you, big brown eyes captivated in yours, and pleads, “please kiss me, baby.” his voice is syrupy and thick, like it’s cemented in his throat. the headphones that he wears are immediately discarded. his hands automatically trail down to hold onto your waist, coercing you even closer in his tight hold. he hovers above your glossy lips, fully mesmerized, and he sweetly begs some more, “please.” 
gamer!yuuji who decides it’s his turn to punish you with his own teasing since he won the game. his hands are all over you, smearing along your body in an attempt to memorize the shape. then, he lifts you up, manhandling you so that your legs are on either side of him. now, you’re finally facing him. he does it with ease. a swoop of his strong arms and you're exactly where he wants you. “this’ll be better,” he voices, mostly to himself. likes the weight of you on him. keeps him grounded. yet you can’t help but notice that even his voice is intoxicating. desperate. it almost borders a groan. he gently presses down on your thighs, efficiently laying you over his lap so you’re flush against him. a slow exhale passes his lips at the contact and you’re hyper-sensitive to how rough the fabric of his sweatpants are. hot, heavy– him. he huffs, amused yet greedy, when you weakly whine. and he considers that his earlier speculation was correct. you’re the prettiest like this; cheeks flared with desire and fingers needily tugging at him. he’s not any better. blushy hair a tousled mess and a tinge of red dusting across his face. there are hearts in his eyes. the air between the two of you is suffocating. but he breathes you in like he’s deprived and he’s finally getting his fill now. “gonna let me play with you now, pretty girl?” his breathing is raspy, rising at the ends of it like you have a grip on him that you’re unaware of. he brings a calloused hand up and drapes it along your neck. it's so large in comparison that his thumb brushes along your nape. feels you gulp beneath the press of his fingertips and you're going cross-eyed from mapping out the veins on his hands. and he might ask you about it after. or he might use it as leverage later on. a fact is known though. unknowingly, you flipped a switch within him and this time he won’t lose.
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