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the styles' nanny: part two

Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a measly encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.

Pairing: plussize—nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry

Word-count: 10.2k

Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex

here’s part one!

A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!

—

I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now.

I’ll see you soon,

Y/N

That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered.

Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.

Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.

It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself. Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s who’s name was Andrew.

“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?”

Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum.

“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?”

“Of course.”

As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.

But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.

He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.

He was ready to offer that to her.

—

Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.

And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.

“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”

Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.

She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.

Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.

“No.”

His eyebrow raised, “no?”

“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”

He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.

“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”

“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”

Concern warped his features.

“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”

She’d turned heads.

“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.”

She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.

“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.

The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.

“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”

“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”

“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”

In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.

“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.

As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.

“Are you driving me to my apartment?”

And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.

“Where’s Jamie?”

He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”

“Oh.”

The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.

Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.

“Y/N, have some water.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.

He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m tired.”

“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”

She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”

“Y/N.”

That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.

“Why’d you go out drinking again?”

“Wanted to.”

“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”

“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”

Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.

Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”

Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”

“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”

It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.

The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.

It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.

“You still there, baby?”

And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.

But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.

“Yeah.”

“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”

“No, I‘m not like you.”

“Ouch.”

Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.

“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”

His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”

And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine.

“Yeah.”

“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”

Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.

“Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”

She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”

Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.

“I know so.”

“Thank you.”

“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.

“You sure?”

“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”

And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?

For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.

“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.

She knew what.

“Nothing.”

“M’kay.”

“Stand up for me?”

Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.

As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.

“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”

He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.

“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.

He hummed, “I know.”

“But thank you.”

“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”

“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”

Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.

“Last time what?”

He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.

He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.

Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.

What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.

She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.

—

Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.

Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”

“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”

“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”

“Probably.”

Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.

“I—“

“Are you— oh, sorry.”

“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.

Harry smiled, “are you okay?”

“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“

Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”

“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”

Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.

“No go on, tell me.”

“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”

“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”

“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”

“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.

The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.

“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”

A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.

“Oh.”

He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.

“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.

There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.

“But you…”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t… because of yesterday?”

“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”

His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“

“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”

“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”

She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”

“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”

“Yes.”

Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”

“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”

“Enlighten me then.”

Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.

So she deflected.

“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“

“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”

“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."

Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.

“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”

“I don’t know.”

She almost laughed, “sure”

“Sweetheart—“

“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”

“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”

“There’s nothing to consider, okay?! I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“

What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.

It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.

Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.

But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.

“Wait.”

His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”

“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.

He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.

“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”

She only nodded.

He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.

Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.

—

Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.

The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.

Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).

As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.

“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”

“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”

“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”

“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”

Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.

“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”

Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”

“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“

“Well then let’s call him, shall we?”

Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.

“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”

“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.

It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”

“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”

“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“

“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”

A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.

Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.

And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone: “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.

—

Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.

“Y/N—“

“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“

“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”

She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.

“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I know I should’ve known but it seemed real when we spoke last, you know? I didn’t think she’d do this.”

Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”

“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”

Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”

“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”

“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”

“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”

“Do you love her?”

Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.

Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.

Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.

“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”

Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.

Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It seemed instinctual, though.

When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.

“That’s… yeah. I get that.”

This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.

Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.

“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”

Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight. “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”

“Okay.”

A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”

“I’d like you to come.”

“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”

“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”

“I’m quitting. That’s it.”

“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“

“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”

She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the living room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.

Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.

And yet, he was determined to keep trying.

—

Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.

The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.

This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.

“So how flexible is time for you?”

“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”

“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”

“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”

This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.

That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.

“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”

Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”

“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”

“I don’t expect you to understand—“

“No. We’re not doing that.”

“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”

“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“

“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”

And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”

“For good reason.”

“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”

“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”

Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.

“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”

“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”

He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”

“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.

“Do you have another job lined up?“

“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”

“Where?”

“A cafe.”

“Where?”

“You wouldn’t know it.”

“Are you hired?”

She huffed, “no.”

“Where else?”

“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”

“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Financial help, maybe?”

Y/N groaned, “no.”

“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“

“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“

“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“

“Can we just— can we not?”

And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts. Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.

There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.

For now, he had to be okay with this.

—

Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.

She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.

He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.

But it hadn‘t been real, had it?

It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.

Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.

But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.

Wouldn‘t he?

He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.

And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.

She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.

“You okay?”

“Hm? Yes. Why?”

A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”

“What? No, I’m fine.”

God, she was feeling small under his gaze.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they don’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”

“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”

But she failed to move.

Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”

Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“

“Last night you what?”

“I had… I had this dream and—“

She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.

“Is this okay?”

His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”

He hummed.

“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”

“It’s only seven.”

“Yeah.”

Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat. He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder.

“Can you do my arms?”

“Of course, baby.”

She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.

And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.

“Is this okay?”

She nodded promptly, heart racing.

Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.

A love like his would feel so great.

“You look really beautiful, you know that?”

“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“Me neither.”

“You’re the one who keeps running.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.

“I’m scared to stay.”

He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”

“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“

“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”

Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”

“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”

“I doubt that,” he retorted.

“Past experiences have proven as much.”

He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”

“How easy it is to love you.”

Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.

“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”

Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.

And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.

When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.

—

A month later.

“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”

As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let her giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.

She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.

“Are you nervous?”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”

“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”

“You ready then?”

“Yes.”

Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.

“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”

Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.

“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”

“Yes, they still are.”

Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”

“You said that you don’t.”

“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”

Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”

“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”

“Who?”

Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.

He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.

When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.

“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”

The silence was short lived.

He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”

“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”

“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”

“Really?”

“I do.”

This stumped her.

And now it was her turn: “wow.”

Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.

“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”

She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.

“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“

“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“We’ve only been together—“

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”

“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”

And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.

“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”

“Would he?”

“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”

“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.

“Then move in with us.”

A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”

“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”

“Harry!”

“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“

“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”

“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”

“I know that.”

“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”

“I need to make money somehow.”

“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”

“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”

“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“

Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”

“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”

“Sorry.”

Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”

Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”

Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t regret it."

He'd been right.

The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it

tags:

@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl @vikiii07

I hope I didn’t forget anyone!

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles series

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syeren · 2 days

Text

WARZONE.

Megumi couldn’t help it— Help his slight and ever-so-growing obsession over you, that is.

Ever since you, a new student, transferred to the Tokyo Metropolitan location of Jujutsu High he couldn’t help but be curious. Sure, it’s always the talk of the school if a new face shows up out of the blue… But you? It felt weird to him. He plastered on his signature stoic expression as he waltzed down the halls from his dorm, letting a faint yawn escape him as he neared Yuji’s door.

“Coming in, you better be wearing clothes or else,” he forewarned the boy, opening the door lazily and slowly removing his shoes. As he placed it neatly to the side of the door, an unfamiliar voice caught his attention.

“You don’t wear clothes? So you just walk around butt-naked and everything?”

The sound of Yuji’s whining instantly pierced his ears right after. “No! Megumi only enters my room after my shower, so technically… Not my fault!”

The boy in question rolled his eyes and walked around the corner of the entrance, seeing you and Yuji situated at his PC.

Megumi let out a soft sigh of relief and muttered out, “Just so you know, normal people wear clothes after they take a shower.”

“W-Why are you still acting like I’m completely naked?” Yuji groaned out, slumping in his gamer chair with a loud huff. “I had socks on.”

Megumi could see your expression in the corner of his eyes, a look of disbelief and pure confusion.

“… Socks?” You reiterated, blinking blankly at the boy in front of you.

“Yeah. Socks,” Yuji replied, perhaps a little too proud of his statement. A soft slap sound from Megumi’s palm met his forehead as he shook his head.

“But you didn’t think underwear would be the priority?” he deadpanned.

“My feet get cold,” Yuji replied and casually grabbed a nearby chip packet from his drawer of endless snacks. “Anyway, whatcha doin’ here Megumi?”

This time, Megumi looked around in thought, pondering about why the heck he was even there in the first place.

“I need some paper,” he boredly responded, making a beeline to the opposite side of the room in a hurry. Hell, he had no idea if his only chance to not look like a fool in front of you was actually going to be there, but with little hope, he continued to stride over to Yuji’s messy bookshelf.

He scanned from top to bottom, bottom to top, side to side, his eyes were getting overstimulated with how much Yuji had stuffed all kinds of trinkets on the ledge of the shelves.

“Lined? Blank? Ooh, or these fancy eco-friendly ones I made?” Yuji called out to Megumi, shuffling out three small stacks of different types of paper. Megumi let out a shaky breath, of course they would be at his desk. The very area he wanted to avoid. He turned around and reluctantly hobbled back.

“Lined.”

Taking one sheet from the stack, he swivelled his stature away again to the entrance, obviously leaving you and Yuji bewildered.

“Just one sheet of paper?” You asked Megumi, who was struggling to step into his boots.

“Yeah,” he muttered, grunting as he finally slipped his foot in after struggling for what felt like a century. He could already feel a thin layer of cold sweat form along his nape as you spoke.

Yuji turned to you and shrugged his shoulders, before patting you roughly on the arm. “Can you force him to stay? I need another person on my team for Warzone.”

“Why don’t you ask him? He’s still here—“

The sound of the door shutting at the front was enough for you to shut up instantly.

“— Nevermind.”

At your words, the pink-haired boy stretched his arms up and stood on his feet, rolling his shoulders as if he was preparing to lunge into battle. The mischievous glint in his eyes gave you the impression that he was, in fact, going to fight off his dear friend for him to play a game… Or prepare himself to be beat up, and then plead his surrender. As much as you wanted to watch the gruesome battle between two teenaged boys have a bickering show-down, you interrupted Yuji and pushed him back into his chair.

“Fine, let me talk to him,” you sighed, before heading your way to the entrance. Yuji on the other hand squealed in delight, following right behind you before grabbing hold of your wrist to high-five his hand with yours.

“Great because I was really not looking forward to another argument— I mean, I would win of course… But I would feel bad for Megumi if he lost! Soooooo… I’ll let you talk to him,” Yuji exclaimed, boastfully leaning against the doorframe with his chin held high. You stood outside his dorm room and shut the door in his face, before walking to Megumi’s room right beside his.

You knocked once. Twice. Possibly three times, you’ve lost count, until it finally opened. Megumi opened the door with a grumble, not bothering to look up as he barked, “I don’t need anymore paper—“

“Not about paper,” you added, peeking your head around the slight crack he managed to pry open. “Come play Warzone.”

Megumi eyed you blankly and you couldn’t help but feel a bit weirded out. Was there a strand of hair sticking up? Something wrong with your face? No, it was him trying to calm his nerves and train his brain to go back into his zen state of mind for a moment— Just for a second! So he can actually talk to you properly without worrying about stammering his words. Thankfully, it’s something he’s good at.

“Warzone?” he questioned before sighing, “Did Yuji ask you to do this?”

“Yes and no,” you glanced back at Yuji’s closed door, before turning your attention to Megumi again. “I guess he was pre-planning to ask you and it seemed like he was really getting into it, so I just offered.”

Megumi stiffened. If there was one other thing Yuji was good at, it was be subconsciously picking up on emotions at the right times (only the right times, he’s not giving him that much credit), and perhaps he had caught on to Megumi’s white lie he suddenly used. It was a stupid cover-up, he had tons of paper in his room already.

“Ahh, I see,” he mumbled before quietly stepping out of his room and closing the door behind him. You smiled at his acceptance to your invitation and walked back to Yuji’s room with Megumi trailing behind.

“… You’re new, right?” he asked, stuffing one hand in his pocket and using the free one to reach out to open the door for you.

You quickly thanked him, entering Yuji’s bedroom and hearing his screams. He must be in a practice game by now waiting for the both of you. The muffled sounds of gunshots and comms gave you enough context.

“Didn’t think you’d notice,” you said playfully with a laugh, making your way inside and opting to sit on Yuji’s bed. Megumi trailed in and flopped onto the free chair next to Yuji, and continued to talk to you. “You seemed the type to be in his own world”

“Well, I am… But, I did,” he responded to you quietly with his eyes locked onto the screen. A faint ‘nice kill’ emerged from his lips as he watched Yuji’s fingers fly across the desk with his mouse, headshotting an opponent. His eyes flicked back to you in intervals and tapped the tips of his fingers on top of the desk. He cleared a lump in his throat before breaking the awkward silence between you two.

“So, why did you transfer here?— To this school I mean. Not in a rude way,” he stammered, briefly looking at your face and turned back to look at Yuji’s screen. He wanted so badly to crush his forehead into the wall.

“Came here from the Kyoto region, I think Gojo wanted me to be here,” you mumbled, watching Yuji completely get demolished in the game.

“If Gojo sees potential in you, you must seem like a well-adaptable individual,” he added, eyes still glued to the screen. “That being said— he also has the urge to take someone under his wing if you’re substantially adorable to him and are in need of his ‘educational expertise’… As so he would call it.”

You let out chuckle, letting your gaze wander to the two bodies haunched over the screen; Yuji, childishly hogging the keyboard even though he wanted Megumi to play with him, and Megumi, not caring in the slightest. As you looked at him, the subtle glance of your eye caught you off guard— He was already looking at you.

“What?” you mouthed at him, narrowing your gaze until he shakes his head. A hand comes up to gently rub his cheeks, covering the slight smile you didn’t see. The faintest hue of pink dusted his cheeks, reaching down to the column of his neck.

“Nothing.”

____________

AN; SYEREN here! been a while, how’ve you been? :3

#jjk #jjk megumi #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk fluff #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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junggunz · 22 hours

Text

5 | 🔞

summary: Jay Jo tutors you for an extra hour. wc: 2.2k cw: fembodied!reader, smut, university!au, tutor!jay jo, reader tests Jay's patience fr, oral (m receiving), facial cum shot, light degradation, spanking, p in v, all characters featured are 18+ an: since the prompt list had two different number 5's, NATURALLY i picked the one i've been thinking about for agesss.

“First, differentiate this part here…(-S)2 is equal to C2+S2��” Jay explains, using his pen to circle the components of the number expression you were currently working on.

Sitting beside each other in the library, knees brushing against each other every so often, you were growing antsy. It's hard trying to stay focused when all these equations are starting to look the same. And not to mention, your tutor is looking extra attractive today. But maybe that was just because of the residual tension lingering from your last tutoring session.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop interrupting me when I’m trying to teach you something?” Jay says through gritted teeth, his patience long gone after hearing you complain about being bored one too many times.

You insulted his teaching skills, which led to him getting up to leave. Truly fed up with your poor attitude because it was your grades, not his, that needed help; he only offered to tutor you for the extra credit. You’re ready to let him walk out on you until you remember that he’s the only one who had an open schedule and was down to study with you at any time of day as long as you gave him heads up. Now desperate, you begged him to stay. Unmoved by your pleas, Jay tells you to give him one good reason to deal with you.

And that’s how you ended up in this position.

Half past midnight on a Saturday, the library was sparsely populated. At least one person had fallen asleep with their face in a textbook. Aside from the three other people in the entire building, it's a ghost town. Not very many people want to pass up the Saturday parties when they can just cram on Sunday. Jay uses the lack of potential spectators to his advantage, making a mess of your mouth. There's no need to be sneaky or secretive if there's no one to witness the lewd dalliance of you and Jay. Ducked under one of the tables at the library, knees digging into the scratchy carpet while Jay kept a firm hand on the back of your head; bobbing you along his cock leisurely.

“I guess it’s true. Dumb sluts like you always give the best head.” He murmured softly, the faintest of smirks tugging at his lips as he watched your lips move up and down his shaft.

It doesn’t take long for your jaw to start aching from how wide you have to open your mouth to take him. Even with the slow pace he was fucking your mouth, you gagged and sputtered every time the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat.

With the deep strokes he gives, your drool gathers in your cheeks and slosh around with each push of his shaft until it trickles down the sides of your mouth. The way one of your soft hands squeeze and fondle his balls with your saliva acting as a lubricant, Jay is very much tempted into spilling his load down your throat. God knows he’s been craving this type of release for ages. But with how warm and slick your mouth is around him, he really doesn’t want the feeling to wane.

Caught between a rock and a hard place, sweat beaded along Jay’s hairline, his teeth gnawed at the inside of his lower lip, and he kept your hair in a vice grip. The longer he held off, the more desperate your actions would become. Nastily slurping up the mixture of precum and your spit that covers his shaft, using your tongue to massage the underside of his cock and trace along each of the pulsing veins, and even going as far to flick your tongue across the seam of his balls whenever you deepthroated him; it seemed like you were getting a point of wanting Jay to cum more than anything.

Jaw feeling like it was locked open for him to use, you looked up at Jay with glossy eyes, silently pleading for his climax. Desperation is cute on you—at least Jay thinks so, and wanting to take in the expression on your teary face, it makes the perfect incentive for him to hold out longer. Reaching down with the hand that wasn’t tangled in your hair, Jay yanks down the neckline of your shirt. Stretching out the soft fabric, he can slip his hand into one of the cups of your bra, roughly pinching your nipple. The tender flesh of your breast is used like a stress ball for Jay; his palm squeezing harder every time you hollow your cheeks around his cock.

It would be a bold faced lie to say that you never imagined yourself kneeling in the library with your tits spilling out, sucking someone off all in the name of saving your grade. But with Jay Jo of all people? Jay was just some quiet nerd to you. You were confident he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to get his dick sucked if you offered. However, that was the only correct assumption you made. He wasn’t as shy as you expected. He wasn’t awkward. And he definitely wasn’t small.

His cock felt so heavy against your tongue. You felt the true weight of it when he pulled it out of your mouth to slap against your cheek. Just the sound of his shaft making contact with your face renders your mind completely vacant. And that’s exactly how Jay wanted you. He doesn’t wanna see any semblance of a thought when you’re sucking him off; you need to save the thinking for when he was actually trying to teach you a lesson.

Deciding that he’s deprived himself of his release long enough, he guided your hand with his own to stroke his cock at the exact pace and grip he liked. Not even giving you a warning, all you saw was blurry white ribbons flying toward you before you felt warmth dripping down your face. Even in this situation, Jay’s expression was indifferent as usual albeit his flushed cheeks and labored breathing. It was only after he pulled up his pants and handed you some tissues before leaving, you were able to tell if he enjoyed this encounter.

“Same time, next week. Bring your last exam with you.”

“Jay, we’ve done so much tonight already. My brain feels like it’s gonna explode if I look at any more numbers.” You whine, laying your head down on the cool surface of the wooden table. “Can we end the tutoring session? Or at least take a break?”

“If you start slacking now, you’re not gonna be ready for finals at the end of the term.” He reminds you, using that same vacant tone he spoke with all the time.

Maybe if he was just a little more expressive, you’d feel more encouraged to power through the rest of your study session. You definitely felt more encouraged after last week. Jay wasn’t the type to make a big deal out of it, but he did acknowledge the six point increase on your quiz scores.

“At least I’m passing the class now! That deserves some sort of reward.” You insist, looking at him with puppy eyes.

Seeing that your focus had been disrupted since the beginning of the session, Jay relents.

“Fine, my reward will be helping you correct all the points you missed on your last quiz.”

Initially, when you hear his proposal, you’re ready to complain and fuss. But when Jay starts packing up his things and telling you to do the same, you’re quick to shove your notebook and pencils into your bag so you could trail after him.

Now, in the privacy in his dorm, you find yourself in yet another situation you couldn’t have foreseen. In Jay’s bed. Naked from the waist down. Settled on his lap with his cock deep inside of you but unmoving while he looked over your most recent exam. One of his hands held the neatly stapled set of pages while the other rested on the apex of your thigh.

“Didn’t I tell you how to solve these kinds of problems last time I saw you?” Jay scolds you as he looks over the first section of the questions you missed. “You did these problems just fine during our review session. How come you missed them?”

“Aah…I forgot a step of the formula.” You mumble in a wavering voice, struggling to refrain from rocking your hips against his.

“You should have that formula drilled into that pretty little head of yours by now.” He tells you sternly. “Lift your ass up.”

Obliging to his demand, you pick up your hips until only half his shaft remains inside of you. With your eyes focused on Jay’s stony expression, you don’t notice his hand coming off your thigh until he brings it down on your ass; slapping you hard and making you whine.

“Question 13 is the same. I even went over this one with you.” Jay murmurs, eyes scanning over your work shown and scoffing at the little mistakes.

“I forgot…” You mumble which earns you another mean spank to your ass.

Flipping through the rest of your test, Jay does reward you for your good work; letting you bounce yourself up and down on his cock like the needy slut you are. Your walls are slick and hot around him, dangling the idea of forgetting about your test corrections right in front of his face. As much as he wants to lose himself in the feeling of your pussy hugging him so tightly, he can’t. For just a few minutes, Jay allows himself to focus on how hot and wet you are for him.

That is, until he comes across another incorrect question. Immediately, he demands that you stop moving, giving your already burning ass cheeks several more slaps until you heed to his command. Manhandling you onto your back and telling you to hold your legs apart from him. Giving you only shallow thrusts, he reads off another problem you missed points.

You look up at Jay with a glassed over expression, trying to focus on him to explain where you went wrong but all that fills your mind is the sensation of your walls clenching around his dick and trying to lure him deeper into your heat. The hand that wasn’t holding your paper menacingly lifts up, hovering above your already stinging ass as Jay asks you what the correct answer is. And now, you’re racking your brain, trying to remember what he said about solving that particular problem.

“Is the rational value negative two?” You ask in a small voice, already squeezing your eyes shut and trying to brace yourself for the repercussion of getting a question incorrect.

“Good job.” Jay tells you, awarding you another spank that’s not as harsh as all the previous ones.

And then, your position changes again. After listening to him lecture you about everything you did wrong on your test, it’s time to actually make the corrections. Now laying flat on your stomach with your test in front of you and a pen in one hand, Jay fucks you from behind. Holding himself above you, his attention is split between rutting into you hard and watching you shakily redo each equation.

“You’re too slow.” Jay grunts out, the tip of his cock meanly pressing against your sweet spot as you struggle to scrawl out any semblance of a number. “You can’t spend too long on a single problem.”

“But-” You start to whine out, trying to reason that during a real math quiz, you wouldn’t have him rearranging your guts and making it hard to focus.

Alas, Jay wasn’t hearing it and only slams harder into that extra soft area deep within your walls, causing you to nearly drop your pen. Your handwriting is scratchy and shaky, looking more akin to a toddler’s work when it’s next to your usually legible print. Taking in a shuddering breath, you grip your pen tighter; desperate to prove to Jay that this kind of tutoring was the only way you could work with him. And the only way to do that was to actually work on your test corrections.

Unlike you, Jay is a very talented multitasker. He has no problem looking over your shoulder while you struggle to scrawl out your work on the page due to the way he was roughly slamming into you from behind.

“I shouldn’t have to remind you about the order of operations.” He murmurs in your ear, thrusts barely slowing down even as he chides you when you neglect the numbers you had just rewritten in parentheses.

“For fucks sake…” You mutter under your breath, trying to collect your thoughts for long enough to correct your mistake while also keeping back the moans that were tickling the back of your throat.

It’s funny to Jay; the way you’re able to remember to keep your ass up and back arched so he could fuck you deeper without him ever needing to tell you in the first place, but after weeks of him telling you the same fundamental math principles over and over, the material just wouldn’t stick. But could he blame you? His cock was hitting all the right places and you simply couldn’t get enough of it. Meanwhile, math was a subject you absolutely detested.

With the way things were going, it was going to be a long review session; but totally worth it if all the ones after this would be the same.

#arminsumi prompts #windbreaker smut #windbreaker x reader #jay jo smut #jay jo x reader #jay jo scenarios #junggunz.txt

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anim-ttrpgs · 2 days

Note

Wait does Eureka have its own established lore for how different supernatural creatures work?

Yes, it does!

(I’m going to preface this post by saying that just about everything I’m talking about here, and more, is available FOR FREE for you to read in the free pre-release version of the Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy rulebook that you can download from our website. Go to Chapter 8 to start reading about the supernatural lore. The rulebook itself will do a lot better job of explaining all this than I will, because it has the exact details of how each one works, and I’m just hitting the highlights and going over what those details mean.)

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is a game about very human and believable investigators digging into dangerous (often supernatural) mysteries way over their heads, and sometimes those very human and believable investigators will be supernatural creatures themselves.

These supernatural creatures are every bit as human and “normal” as their mundane investigators counterparts, they have jobs, friends, families, hobbies, etc. They live among mundane society, not outside of it.

Most modern fantasy settings have some kind of separation between normal society and magical society, like you see in Harry Potter where there is normal society, and then a separate, secret magical society hidden away from it, or Vampire: The Masquerade, where vampires all have an agreement to keep themselves a secret from normal society despite acting within it.

In Eureka’s world, there is no “masquerade,” but that doesn’t mean that magic and monsters are well-known and well-documented phenomenons. Supernatural creatures such as vampires, wolfmen, etc. are exceptionally rare. Don’t take this as an exact number, but you can probably assume there’s about one of these per every 3.3 million normal people.

This rarity, as well as the fact that each individual has little to gain and everything to lose by revealing themselves (try “coming out” as a person who regularly assaults people and drains their blood), has led to them going largely undocumented in the modern day. Sure, this is the digital age, there are videos, but viral videos are not exactly scientific evidence. For every real vampire caught on camera, there are a thousand hoaxes and horror short films.

There is no secret vampire government controlling things from the shadows—most vampires don’t even know any other vampires, let alone enough to form a secret society with any effect on national politics.

As for how they work, well, that’s one of my favorite parts to talk about.

There are five playable monster types in Eureka (The Vampire, The Wolfman, The Fairy, The Witch, and The Thing From Beyond) plus two extras that are Kickstarter stretch goals (The Dullahan and The Gorgon), but in the interest of time, I’m only going to really go into detail with one of them.

Most playable monster types in Eureka are very, very old-school, with an emphasis on actual historical folklore over just making up all our own lore. That doesn’t mean Eureka doesn’t have a unique approach to the supernatural, though. Little of it is “new,” but it is certainly unique, because to my knowledge no other RPG has ever taken the old stuff this far before. A PC being a monster in Eureka isn’t just a few +1s here and there and maybe a little extra damage from silver weapons, it means playing by an entirely different set of rules from fellow investigators.

The vampires and vampire lore you see in movies are not folkloric vampires, they are mostly a 20th and 21st century pop-culture creation. Eureka’s vampire abilities, weaknesses, and other traits are based on pre-1900 vampire legends, with older traits usually taking precedent over newer ones. Thus, a lot of assumptions you might have about vampires going in could end up being very wrong. For instance, in movies, vampires instantly die when exposed to sunlight, but the first ever instance of a vampire in a story being killed by sunlight was in the 1922 film Nosferatu. In Eureka, sunlight is still awful for vampires, it strips them of their vampiric powers, but it doesn’t do any real damage to them. Sunlight is an issue vampires have to deal with, but it is far from instant death. That doesn’t mean being a vampire is inherently easy though, because in addition to having all the powers that folkloric vampires have (which is a TON), they also have all the weaknesses, and it is the emphasis on weaknesses that really makes the moment-to-moment playing of a monster PC in Eureka the most interesting. A few of my favorites for vampires are the refusal to enter homes without a direct invitation, and the compulsion to count large numbers of small objects. I think most vampire media these days considers these to be “silly” weaknesses and don’t want to acknowledge them in the lore of their “serious” scary horror vampires, but honestly I think that the “sillier” vampire stuff can still be used to great effect in horror. Imagine knowing that the only reason a vicious killer at your door hasn’t stormed in to rip your throat out is because they’re being polite.

A vampiric investigator will need to work around these weaknesses, and more, in their daily life, all while being sure not to reveal their true nature to their more mortal friends. It’s something that really changes how a character behaves and goes about problem-solving.

For instance, the rest of the party may be able to break into a house no-problem, but the vampire cannot. They need a invitation. That’s a problem. That’s a puzzle. It makes me excited just thinking about it.

This was originally going to be a much longer post where I went into more of the themes of monsters in Eureka, but I have decided that that would be most cohesive as its own post, an upcoming essay titled "How Eureka Handles Disability." So stay tuned for that.

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is kickstarting from right now until May 10th! Back it while you still can!

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If you want to try before you buy, you can download a free demo of the prerelease version from our website or our itch.io page!

If you’re interested in a more updated and improved version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy than the free demo you got from our website, subscribe to our Patreon where we frequently roll our new updates for the prerelease version!

You can also support us on Ko-fi, or by checking out our merchandise!

Join our TTRPG Book Club At the time of writng this, Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is the current game being played in the book club, and anyone who wants to participate in discussion, but can’t afford to make a contribution, will be given the most updated prerelease version for free! Plus it’s just a great place to discuss and play new TTRPGs you might not be able to otherwise!

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

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yo-yo-yoshiko · 6 months

Text

Oh, for a skeleton key…

Plus a digital mockup to simulate a red ink pass that i discovered could not be achieved well enough with the materials available to me, and the original pencils.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #fan art #ink drawing #inktober #(i guess eehehe)#i drew him for funsies and sent him on his merry way to lands unknown(the postal system)#i expressed my initial anxiety about drawing his face properly to a friend who rightfuly observed that his head IS yoshiko shaped #wonderful shape. 10/10. the jacket….#was a labor and a half lol #worth it for the bestie though lol #i would draw him so he could look at his vain self #i wanna see if i can get that artist guy in game to paint him lol #i’m only in act two at the time of typing #still one of my fave interactions with him:#‘i dont want a freaking poem #just tell me i’m hot’#astarion… buddy… look at me…. i’m a god damn bard how could you say these things to me?#my craft!!#Pointy bastard mean girl hungry boy crime time murder elf.

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lemonlumens · 2 years

Text

he’s all of him. and sonic is there too ig

#sth #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #my art #shadow the hedgehog is cool as fuck. the best character design ever created. he has a gun?#i used to go by darkness so i feel some sort of kinship with him #wait i’m literally just now realizing how corny it is that i used to go by darkness and now go by LUMENS. oh my god.#ANYWAY. i drew the first stuff right after i watched the shadow fandub. the last i have no such excuse for #i may be in hell.#i have now technically played a sonic game for the first time. team sonic racing which i definitely acquired legally.#i’ve pretty much never played those types of racing games before.#god sonic characters are sort of fun to draw and also hellish. quite different from the only other animal characters i’ve drawn b4.#i may be getting hyperfixated on sonic :|#this is what metallic madness zone act 2; dreams of an absolution; knight of the wind; +100 other sonic ost songs on repeat does to a mf #i said i wouldn’t do this but maybe i should make a sonic sideblog?#sonic is the sort of franchise that’s popular in abstraction but niche in genuine interest #if i’m still into this in a week or two i’ll make a sideblog #god these tags are long #shadow #sonic

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salaciousdoll · 7 months

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· · Just in: Kento Nanami isn’t tolerating his young hot neighbor party habits, here’s what he has to say · ·

･˳ . ⋆ Reporting Live from Kento Nanami and Next door neighbor!Fem!reader ･˳ . ⋆

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings : smut, Nanami is a hard!dom, hair pulling, creampie, fucked through orgasm, pet names( stupid bunny, slut, etc.), degradation is big time here, bed breaking( not just the head board), breeding kink, Nanami talks about getting you pregnant, hardcore, reader is mind fucked, Nanami is pussy drunk, reader is dick drunk, fluids( cream, squirting, drool), if I’m missing anything let me know WC: 1,081

MDNI, 18+

ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟNote from salaciousdoll: Please do note this was just to poke and have fun, it’s not gonna be perfect so don’t expect it. Anyways, hope you all enjoy my 35 min writing and yes I know this troupe and idea been used a thousands times, act like it hasn’t 😭 Nanami ass may be ooc here, idk.

Nanami always kept his eyes out for the new neighbor who threw parties with mountains of people coming in and out. He was pretty tired of the parties you throw even if you never introduced yourself to any one of your neighbors. You were young and everyone in this neighborhood was either stepping into their 30s or older than that. Only reason he knew you were young was because of how often he’ll see you leave and come in with different boys and girls.

The parties you threw were rowdy and full on project x type beat except without trashing your house. Nanami would be sleep and all he would hear is screams, music, and even the sound of fucking near his window. It’s like you didn’t care about anything or anyone, not even the complaints or calls from the police the other neighbors sent.

So Nanami didn’t care about the way you were clawing at his chest with your long, pretty acrylics as he gripped your hair in a tight ponytail— pounding into your pussy from beneath you with no mercy. The squelching sounds weren't enough to make him stop, in fact, that’s the sole reason he kept going. He ignored your cries and scrambling to get away from him because of how good he stretched your little hole out.

“ you’re not lasting like I thought you would… I mean sluts last long, so why aren’t you?”, Nanami grunts into your ear, his hips thrusting up into your weeping pussy, angrily. He didn’t care about the bed hitting the wall as he fucked you like the whore you’re mother wouldn’t be proud of.

You coughed and tried to make eye contact with him, but his grip on your hair was too much for you to see his face under you. So you cried out your frustration through crystallized vision, “ M’not a slut. Please slow down, Mr. Nanami.” Your sweet little moans and whimpers were beautiful.

Nanami let out a loud growl like moan and wrapped one arm around your body while he now had some of your ponytail tangled and wrapped into his hands, he was making your hair messy just like he was making your pussy messy. You partially regretted coming on because of the dare, but in the same breath, you were happy because now you’re living two of your fantasies.

“ You are. You are. Nnnhh, you’re a little slut that’s been disturbing this neighborhood since you stepped foot in here. Shame on you, did your mother and father teach you anything or are you too dumb of a bunny to understand. Fuck!”, Nanami grunts out his words because of how tight your fluttering walls wrapped around his dick.

Nothing but cries and little chokes escaped out of your mouth. You couldn’t form basic words, how dumb can you be? Nanami balls were slapping on your puckered hole from how fast and rough he was going. You gave up on digging your nails into his chest because you were so fucked out and tired from the pounding he’s giving you. So now your bare chest was pressed onto his bare chest, sweat glands producing from both of you.

“ Please! Please! Please! M’gonna m’gonna— uhhnnn.”, your moans were suppressed by his smooth lips. You were screaming into his mouth as you squirted over his pelvis, his balls, and legs. Some of it was getting on his sheets and he didn’t care one bit. He was too angry at you to see how messy you’ve gotten his covers.

You tried to scramble off him because you were squirting too much and the pressure of it all was too much especially for your already beaten up pussy. It’s like Nanami has superhuman speed and stamina. He sped up even more faster as he fucked up into you, you and your pussy screamed and cried.

Nanami grunts were beginning to become broken, “ Sh-ittt, s’good, pussy is so good squirting like that. I guess all those boys coming in and out of your house taught you how to milk cock, perfectly.” Your eyes widened and then they rolled back into your head at the rolling of his hips hitting the inner thighs repeatedly.

As soon as he did one more snap of his hips, the bed frame broke underneath you two causing a loud noise to erupt from how hard it hit the floor. The poles attached to his bed fell in the opposite direction of you two. If someone were to walk in right now, they’ll see that it looks like a tornado hit his room with how broken the bed was. Yet that still didn’t stop him. He now had a great angle as he pounded your tired, wet cunt over and over with one knee propped up, so you were now fucking rapidly and properly. He felt your velvet walls sucking him in with your liquid coming out at the same time. You were perfect for his cock. Nanami’s cock was big, way too big for your pussy. He loved your pussy so much. He was too drunk on your pussy to understand that his bed broke.

“ My fucking slut, such an devilish little temptation you are, gonna breed this tight little pussy. Nghh! Hopefully that’ll get you to stop having these parties and fucking with those boy toys of yours…. Settle down and grow round and big with our child, how does that sound? Hmm.”, Nanami moaned as you were now creaming on his cock from how overstimulated you were.

Your brain was fogged and your words were slurred with drool hangin out your mouth as you answered him, well tried. Luckily he understood every word you said. “ Yesh—yess, I wan’ your babies. Ahnnn. Want to be full and bloated with your children, mmm mr. Nanami”

Nanami smirked in victory because now there were no more parties, boys, or loud music. Gotta love corrupting and breaking his pretty little neighbor.

ෆ ̟ ̇ ┈•ﾟ Tagging: @chosoist @simpingfor-wakasa @honeybleed and anyone else who wants to be tagged

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inupibaldspot · 3 months

Text

Wingman ain’t subtle.

Paring: Gojo Satoru x reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : This takes place when Gojo and the rest are students and you are one year senior/older than them

Gojo thinks today is a bad day.

“y/n-senpai apparently only dates guys older than her” Shoko says she sucks the drink from the straw. As much as she’d like to be smoking, it wasn’t allowed on campus.

The lollipop in Gojo’s mouth falls to the ground which makes Geto snort.

“Sucks to you Satoru.” He comments. “If only you were born a year or two before you’d have a chance.”

Gojo winches as he looks over to Shoko with eyes pleading that she was lying “For real?”

“Yeah.” Shoko and you shared being gifted with Reverse Cursed Technique so they’d spend a lot of time training together so the two were close.

Ever since he learned that fact, Gojo had Shoko be his wing man on learning to be and also learn about your type. She was hesitant at fist but oh boy! Gojo was so hopelessly in love with you she kinda felt bad. Shoko adds. “She thinks older guy make her feel protected.”

Gojo huffs, his stomach churns with jealousy. “I’m literally the strongest…” who else would you need to feel protected?

To add on the fact that learning about him having no chance with you because of the year he was born — ‘Satoru was spawn killed.’ Geto would add— he and his classmates had forgotten to put up a veil during a mission which triggered Yaga’s, their teacher in charge, wrath.

Yaga takes in a deep breath“How many times do I have to tell you to put up a veil ?!”

Gojo really couldn’t careless as his teacher yaps away and probably neither did both of his two friends. He could see Geto nod at times as if acting like he was taking Yaga’s word to heart and with Shoko dozing off with her eyes open.

He does his best to fight back a yawn as something suddenly grabs his attention. You. His eyes trail to you ,who was a year senior to him, walking along the hallway, revealed by the long strip of windows between the classroom and hall. Gojo thinks you’re the loveliest piece of existence in the planet as you gently tug a piece of hair behind as you talk with Utahime.

Feeling a piercing gaze — or maybe it was Yaga’s shouts— you look over inside the class as meet your eyes with beautiful vibrant blue ones of your junior, Gojo Satoru’s.

When you give him a smile and a small wave, you weren’t expecting him to straight up beam at your direction and full on wave as if a kid would wave at an airplane passing by.

Of course this angered Yaga further as a nerve pops on his forehead and hands clenched. “Pay attention, Satoru!” He swings his fist at the boy.

The impact of his teacher’s fist on him sends him flying. If he weren’t such a good student he would have actually used his limitless to block such hits but alas— it may not look like it but he was. “Sensei—! Hitting your students should be against the law.”

He sees Geto sent him an amused smirk and Shoko,who finally woke up, trying to figure out what was happening and to his horror, you were giggling at him. Not many things can make Gojo feel embarrassed but his crush laughing at him when he got hit was one of it.

Yup-! That’s exactly what he needed; his crushing laughing as he gets beat up and lectured by his teacher. His day was going fan-tas-tic!

The day goes on with with the remaining classes. Evening classes were usually training so Shoko was in infirmary with Gojo and Geto on the training grounds but one thing bother Gojo was that the ‘hit’ from Yaga earlier did leave an impact. The back of his head a aching and even made him jump when Geto applied the slightest bit of pressure.

Call him dramatic but he didn’t want the ache to go on further so there he was on his way to the infirmary. He really needed Shoko to patch him up.

He slides the door open as he starts to complain. “Shoko heal me up. Yaga’s hit really did some damage on me”

“You’re hurt?”

Hearing a voice which wasn’t Shoko’s and with almost a magic like ability to make his heart race grabbed his attention. He turns to see you who was near the storage cabinet as if you were arranging something.

“I- uhh…” Suddenly his throat constricted and he couldn’t speak. His face heats up as you tilt your head waiting for an answer as he clears his throat. “Just a bit, y/n.”

“Shoko is out though. She got called to assist in a mission. ” You smile as you sit on a near by chair, pulling another chair beside.

You smile at him as you pat the chair beside yours indicating him to sit down there which makes him tense up slightly but he does as told. “Also you should be calling me ‘senpai’. Utahime-senpai was complaining that youth these days have no manner.”

You laugh. “Now tell me where you’re hurt.”

He sits beside you as he tilts his head and points at his sore spot. “Here.”

Gojo watches you raise your hand and inspect his heat, the places where your fingers grazes heats up which makes him gulp deeply. You laugh as you see a swelling on his head. “Wow- Sensei really did hit you hard…”

The white haired boy relaxes as he he feels the calming sensation on his head which means you were using your technique of healing him. “Does age really matter that much?”

You hum as if thinking through your answer. “Of course. Even a year older means you’ve been in this world for a year longer. That in itself is commendable enough.”

“I heard from Shoko that you like guys older…” Gojo says no longer trying to contain the jealousy in his voice. “Is it because of the same reason?”

Gojo watches your eyes widen and blink in confusion; he thinks any expression you make is so so adorable. You then proceed to giggle. “Just because I dated people who are older than me doesn’t mean I have a type.”

Damn that Shoko probably messed around with her wording. Gojo curses as the girl made it seem you would only date guys older than her.

“For example…” You hum as you bring your finger up to your lips. “Right now I like a guy who is younger than me who never respects his elder.”

Hearing her words, every restrain in his body breaks free and Gojo stands up from his seat ; before he knows it his lips are on yours. He hold your face in place, cupping both side of his cheeks.

Gojo kisses you. Your lips are softer than he imagined it to be and when you let out a small moan he deepens it, stronger and desperate as if trying to memorize every inch of you.

He brings one of his hands to the back of your head, as he runs his hands through your hair. His lips keep moving as if he had lost his mind; deep and urgent as if he couldn’t waste a single second.

Out of breath, he pulls away and looks at you who was breathing heavily and lips slightly plump from his desperate tugs and bites. He watches the same lips curl into a smile as you give him a teasing smile. “Also tell Shoko to quit being your wing man,Satoru. She isn’t quite subtle about it.”

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chrollohearttags · 5 months

Text

CHARM’D • mikasa ackerman

your fiancée gets a new piercing and you decide to have some fun with it.

content + themes: nail tech!mikasa, black fem!reader, y/n is a lash tech, subby mika, her and y/n cracking jokes on each other, overstimulation, pillow humping, use of toys, scissoring, heavy squirting, fingering, bratty mika, gay bestie!armin cameo

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･

most people would say working with your significant other seems like a great time. Being around the one person you love more then life itself and earning a living at the same time? You couldn’t ask for a better deal. However, it did have its challenging moments..discipline and focus is an important part of anyone’s employment. Regardless of the job but especially when tending to someone’s beauty and esthetic needs, it was imperative to pay attention. Hence why your fiancée despised the fact that you were working alongside her as her new lash tech some days! Granted, she was thrilled to have you around and with an extra service and set of hands around, you guys’ income practically tripled. So it was a pretty sweet deal. However, you didn’t make it easy…in fact, you acted as if giving her a hard time was your actual occupation..

“Are you sure we can’t just fill them in and work around it? C’mon, Mika. You sure you can’t just do your magic?”

“Sweetheart, how long have you been a client of mine? I’m an artist, not a repair woman. Two things I refuse to do is fly coach and work over other people’s fuck ups. Now let’s soak these off so I can give you a fresh set. While you’re waiting, Armin can get you in the shampoo bowl. Since he’s sitting on his skinny ass, doing nothing.”

needless to say, it was never a dull moment! You guys’ hairstylist and resident smartass, Armin Artlert was currently seated in one of the styling chairs, typing away on his phone.

“And don’t forget looking cute. Just blind and grouchy.”

“Whatever. Help her before I suddenly find your replacement.”

it was obvious that the normally laid back nail tech was in rare form this morning. Not so much rude or angry but definitely on edge a little. The shop was a little busy but nothing more than usual for the Sugar and Spice Haus. It was normal for clients to be waiting outside the door so she couldn’t have been frazzled by that. So what exactly had her acting so strange? Perhaps it was a question better answered by the one person who knew her better than anyone else..and who ironically was the root cause of the issue!

“Oh, don’t pay her any attention, y’all. She’s just a little worked up. Isn’t that right, baby?”

just then, a rather gleeful (y/n) would come traipsing from the back of the salon..strapless dress and sandals, holding a caddy full of lash supplies. In return, the only thing you were met with was a decorated middle finger and the roll of dark, doe eyes. Your fiancée was quite the bratty thing when she wanted to be but she was oh so cute….

“Oh shut up. I’m not talking to you right now.”

hence why you took immense pleasure in teasing her among other things..something that began long before the two of you even opened shop this morning..

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･

flashback: earlier that morning..

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* : ── ･

“Oh God!…yes..right there!…”

“Aw, is that your spot, baby? Are you gonna come?”

the high pitch, condescending coo spouting from your lips rang off into the ears of your very whiny and overstimulated fiancée. Who had just been sleep only twenty minutes prior or so it would appear. Because as the two of you awoke for the morning, ready to start another day in the home and salon you shared as not only lovers, but business partners…you were met with a rather pleasant surprise. Faint whimpers and the sight of your precious Mikasa grinding herself against her pillow. Her tits spilling from her tank top; fondled in her palms, hair brushing against the sheets and her panties tugged to the side as her bare slit rubbed profusely against the memory foam material. She had to have been in utter bliss from the sounds erupting from her mouth. Not only that, she looked so sexy..however, you knew it was rather unbecoming of your woman too. Granted, your sex life was anything but mundane and the two of you took any opportunity plausible to fuck, lick or kiss on one another. However, for the past few days or so, she seemed to be evading you. Claiming to be far too exhausted for any sort of sexual activity. She’d shower alone and even halt you if things got too intense. One would think that was indicative of infidelity and that their partner was with someone else. But alas, her dirty little secret came to light and needless to say, you’d return the pent up sexual frustration ten fold!..

“Oh? What’s this?…” she just knew that once you unveiled the truth, you’d never allow her to live it down. And she was correct.

“(Y/N)..baby…fuck me!..”

the truth was, she had snuck behind your back and acquired a clit piercing. More than likely from the same artist who had decorated her skin in the plethora of tattoos she sported. But what she hadn’t counted on was becoming so hypersensitive afterwards. It was one of those things that could go either way, depending on the person. Getting piercings in intimate area could either make you lose all feeling or make you super sensitive to the touch. For poor Mikasa, she was the latter to a fault! You would’ve thought that she would’ve learned her lesson when she got her nipples pierced and they sent her into a frenzy with something as simple as putting on a bra on. But you were more than happy to meet her request..flipping her over onto her back, (y/n) promptly shoved your tongue into her mouth; jaw agape and slack from being on the brink of climax. Her pierced nipples puffy and erect and of course..that adorable little clit; marked with a silver ball and bar going through it. It looked so cute and she looked even more precious..practically begging for you to claim her. Slick surrounded that fat pussy of hers and you just knew she was close.

“Oh you poor thing…you’ve been holding out on me…don’t worry, mama. I’ll take care of you..”

reassuring her with your lips honing on her neck. Tender kisses trailing down her throat and those fingers following suit to her mound. Tracing your digits across her freshly waxed skin, you’d tease around the area, refusing to touch the actual bud. “But first..I need you to do sum’ for me, okay?” So gently cooing to her. At this point, she was desperate so she was at your mercy.

“Yes, baby!..whatever you want..”

crying out as you moved your fingertips lower as well as your mouth, leaving them to hover over her jeweled nipples. Drawing a long trail of saliva along with you in the process. That’s when you’d shove those two opposite fingers between her lips and force her to suckle, drumming up her own spit. “Suck on these f’r me. Get them wet…just like that.” She’d happily comply, knowing that you’d help her reach her peak soon. Whilst she was busy drooling and whining, you’d ease one digit inside of her with your thumb resting on her clit. She looked so helpless and vulnerable..turning you on more and more by the second. Mikasa’s back would raise from the bed as you pushed those digits knuckle deep into her core. You’d feel them suction and tighten around you and continue pressing until they were stained with a sheath of milky white and sticky clear liquid..dripping all down your nails. You kept them short just for special instances like these. So you could pump them in and out her pretty pussy and watch her squirm, yelping for more.

“Ah! Haaaa…oh my god! Right there! Yes…”

“Aw, am I in your spot, baby? Are you gonna come?”

nodding her head profusely; your dormant thumb now tracing circles against her clit and even flicking that piercing for added stimulation. Needless to say, she couldn’t hold back any longer and seconds later, when you finally gave her permission, you’d find your arm, the sheets and anything surrounding you two drenched in her juices. Squirting everywhere..and became inconsolable afterwards. “That’s it!…let it go, let it go for meee..squirt on those fingers.” Encouraging with loud cries ringing out through the bedroom. She was practically convulsing once you withdrew your fingers. Allowing them to drip, you’d dangle them over her lips and allow her to clean them off. “Mmmhm..taste yourself, baby…you look so pretty.”

running a hand along her torso and up to her throat yet again to wrangle her in for a kiss. Haven gotten a taste of her sweet essence, you decided to get your entire fill by finally leaving a trail of pecks leading to her pelvis before tousling your own side of the covers off and climbing on top of her. Without missing a step, you’d part her inked up legs and pin one back whilst intertwining the other with your own. From there, you’d tear off the thin lacy panties she was wearing off and put them to much practical use like gagging her. From there, you’d align your frothing slits and start grinding them against one another. Tugging down your own sports bra; dressed in only a bonnet and having fallen asleep with nothing on your lower half, you had become well aroused on your own from her little escapades. With that, Mika would buck her hips forward and work herself against you; meeting your thrusting with tearful pleas to keep fucking her. “Don’t stop, baby! Please don’t fucking stop…” her voice was cracking but her words very concise and clear. Those perky tits bounced around underneath as she gripped the silk linen underneath your bodies. The smacking of your clammy folds and warmth made for a beautiful chorus of steamy, nasty sounds filling the atmosphere…she wasn’t the only one feeling the pressure either because you soon found yourself nearing an orgasm. “I’m gonna come too, mama…fuck! You feel so good..”

laughing out of pure delirium and pleasure, unable to slow down in fear that you’d come on the spot. Those sticky juices smeared across each of your thick thighs as those lower lips meshed together. Eventually, you’d find yourself leaning down to let your tongues clash as well. “Mmph! I love you…” “I love you too, Mika! Fuck, baby…come for me again..”

just then, she’d follow your order and flail around as another stream of juices exited both of your bodies. Spraying up everything in the vicinity. Rubbing those finger pads against her throbbing bud, (y/n) drummed out more and more until she couldn’t spill another drop. You found yourselves going round for round..drawing out one another’s arousal and all that you had to offer. An hour or so had past; an array of positions from being seated on her face while you ate her out, to riding a double sided dildo…

“Yes, baby! You look so pretty riding that fucking dick..go deeper..”

to finally ended your rather heated session with your fingers intertwined as you played with yourselves. Massaging those clots to your final climatic rushes. Coming down in a powerful high with tears streaming down your faces and squirt pooling down your legs. All in all, it seemed that her little piercing was a success and rather useful investment.. “C’mere..that feel good?..” “..yeah..thank you, baby..so much.” Fucked out and dazed from being overly stimulated. But neither of you regretted a thing..that was until you made another proposal with a deviant glare on your face..reaching over into the dresser, you’d retrieve another device: a controller vibrator. One you planned to utilize on her throughout the work day!

“Hell no, (y/n)! I can’t..”.

but it was too late..you had already placed it inside of her and would be utilizing it until you had your fill. You wanted to see how she fared with her little body modification when you were the one in control..and throughout an entire day of work.

maybe next time she wouldn’t keep such secrets from you!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@soanis @merakidoll

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say-al0e · 1 month

Text

Movie Night

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!

Summary: You've been crushing on Eddie Munson for ages. When you finally ask him over to a watch a movie, you learn that your feelings are definitely requited. Warnings: General mention of Eddie's reputation/being mistreated for said reputation, protected PinV, oral (m receiving). Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader Word Count: 7.8k (it got away from me, my bad)

“I think I’m going to ask him out.”

Steve, who had been sorting through tapes on autopilot - huffing at each return that needed to be rewound, muttering under his breath each time your perch on the counter jeopardized his precarious pile of returns - lifted his head at the sound of your voice.

A quick glance around the store reminded him that it was empty, save for the two of you, Dustin Henderson, and Eddie Munson. It was obvious that you weren’t talking about Dustin and he knew you weren’t talking about him - been there, done that; be kind, don’t rewind.

The only logical conclusion was Eddie and that pulled a grimace from Steve as he spared your one-time classmate a weary glance.

Across the store, Eddie watched as Dustin - with flailing limbs and grinning lips - sorted through tapes in search of a film neither you nor Steve had ever heard of. He looked amused, eyes wide and bright as he listened to Dustin, and it brought a soft smile to your lips that Steve quickly erased.

“You’re going to ask out Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” Steve shuddered, as if he couldn’t bear to think about it - only a little exaggerated, a little dramatic in a way he often teased Dustin for - and shook his head as he transferred his pile to the cart. “Why would you do something like that?”

Though Steve had made great strides in shedding the high school persona he’d spent so long clinging to - he was no longer the Grade-A douchebag he once was - there were still moments of reflexive snobbery that made you roll your eyes. It didn’t help that there was an undercurrent of jealousy, spurred by Dustin’s newfound Eddie worship, but he seemed to realize his mistake as he held up a hand in apology.

“He’s cute.” There was a defensive bite to your tone, sharp and pointed - a derisive huff that made Steve raise a brow - as you spared the pair a glance.

Though most wouldn’t believe it, you’d always found Eddie cute. When he returned to school your junior year (his first senior year) with longer hair, wearing a leather jacket, you’d been drawn to him immediately. There was something about him that enchanted you - his hair, his smile, his big brown eyes, his theatrics, his give-no-fucks attitude - and saddled you with one of the biggest crushes you’d ever had.

Despite the years of pining, you never acted on it. Eddie never gave you much reason to believe your feelings might be requited, other than the time you caught him checking out your ass beneath your cheer skirt senior year, but things were different now. High school insecurity was gone and you no longer cared what anyone thought about your personal life.

And if Eddie truly had no interest in you, you wouldn’t be stuck in a building with him five days a week.

Steve’s face remained sour, uncertain - despite his knowledge that Eddie was almost perfectly your type - so you rolled your eyes and jostled the desk, just to make him jump. When he glared at you, you grinned.

“I mean, what’s the harm? Eddie’s always been nice to me. At worst, I pull a Henderson and replace you with Eddie.”

“Please. My life would drastically improve if you left me alone.” At your mock outrage, Steve sneered - though you could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, one that confirmed he was joking, though he would likely apologize for being bitchy later, anyway.

Steve shook his head as he shoved a tape, ready to be marked as a return, into your hands. “Of course Munson has always been nice to you. You’re hot.” It was said easily, as if it was the most logical explanation, a point blank huff that had him shrugging when you teasingly wagged your brows. “You know I think you’re hot. Shut up. And Munson’s weird, but he’s still a guy.”

The sharp nudge of your foot to Steve’s side drew another annoyed huff, this one accompanied by a swift swat to your foot - one that made you laugh and Steve roll his eyes.

“He’s not weird,” you defended, eyes narrowed as you scratched at the Family Video sticker covering the spine of a tape. “Just because you’re not into the same stuff doesn’t mean he’s, like, a freak or something. He’s just a guy. A cute guy, but just a guy.”

Finally, as if he’d come to terms with the fact that no work would be done until you’d decided to make your move or backed down, deflated and intending to leave well enough alone, Steve turned to lean against the counter. He folded his arms over his chest and allowed his gaze to flicker between you and Eddie.

“You’re really into him?”

Steve knew that you were. Just as you’d given him dating advice, he’d given you the same in return and knew that you had a thing for metalheads in theory - guys with leather jackets and music collections that made his head hurt - but the last person you actually pursued was more like him. It was always the safe choice and he wanted to be certain that you knew what you were getting yourself into.

“You’re totally forgetting that I thought Billy Hargrove was gorgeous until he opened his mouth and proved himself to be a Grade-A dickhead. At least Eddie’s really a nice guy.” With a sigh, you slid from the counter - careful not to destroy Steve’s pile - and frowned as you spared Eddie another sideways glance.

A dejected sigh escaped, fell from your mouth in a puff of hot air, as you emulated Steve’s stance and folded your arms over your chest. You understood where Steve was coming from - his question was fair, one that made perfect sense - but it made your chest ache as you searched for the words to adequately describe what you’d been thinking.

“I just… I’m tired of going for the safe choice, you know? I’m tired of looking for people that won’t disappoint my parents or make judge-y assholes look twice, even if they make me miserable.” With a forced laugh, a sound that rang hollow in your own ears, you turned your full attention back to Steve. “I think you’re the only person I ever even attempted to date that I halfway liked and we both know how that ended up.” Steve made a face, one that clearly displayed his understanding, as he tilted his head to study Eddie, trying to see what you saw. “Eddie’s cute and sweet and I’m not just into him because I feel like I’m supposed to be.”

Steve understood, if only vaguely - he’d chased after people just because he felt he was supposed to, spent his entire high school career being a guy he didn’t really like because that was who he felt he was supposed to be - so he nodded. With a wave of his hand, he gestured to Eddie. “I say, if you want to ask him out, just do it. There’s no chance he’ll turn you down. He’s weird, not an idiot.”

With Steve’s encouragement, if only barely, you turned to face Eddie. There was a fire burning in the pit of your stomach, flames lapping at your already warm skin, as you considered exactly how to approach him. There was no sense in trying to beat around the bush - he was sweet, flirty and kind, but would need to be asked directly, just to avoid any misunderstanding - and you knew that you couldn’t have a conversation with him with Dustin Henderson stuck to his side.

“Steve.”

An exasperated sigh escaped Steve, who had only just turned back to his work, as he held his hands up in defeat. “What?” Warm brown eyes narrowed, focused on you in an exasperated frustration that made you laugh. “What do you want me to do? I’m not asking him out for you.”

Laughter bubbled in your throat, escaped a little louder than you intended and drew Eddie and Dustin’s attention as you imagined Steve playing the middleman for you and Eddie. With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turned your head and pouted at Steve. “Take responsibility for your child and distract Henderson. I can’t ask Eddie out with him right there.”

Steve fixed you with a wholly unimpressed stare, not at all surprised by the turn your day had taken. “Fine,” he sighed, turning his attention back to the screen in front of him. “Get him over here and I’ll distract him. But you owe me. Cover my shift on Saturday? I’ve got a date with Lisa.”

“I thought you were going out with Anna?” Steve grimaced in a way that told you there would be a deeper conversation later, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to be distracted. Instead, you waved a hand. “Whatever. Henderson is literally only here because of you. I don’t owe you shit.” You rounded the counter, brows raised as Steve pulled a face, and laughed when he rolled his eyes. “I will swap you, though. I’ll take your Saturday night if you take my Friday night.”

“Yeah, alright. Just go before I change my mind. The kid can be a total cockblock when he wants to be and I’m thinking about letting him.”

With a middle finger tossed behind you, angled in Steve’s direction - met with his laughter and, no doubt, a middle finger of his own - you started off across the store. Dustin and Eddie had dropped their conversation to furious whispers, an exchange that you couldn’t make out from your distance, but fell silent the moment your steps sounded a touch too close.

“Henderson.” At your greeting, Dustin’s attention snapped to you, eyes wide and lips parted with a sentence you’d broken. Eddie shot him a sideways look and you raised an eyebrow at the silent conversation that passed between the pair. “Steve wanted to talk to you.”

Dustin frowned, eyes darting between you and Steve - whose back remained to your group. “About what?”

Eddie stifled a laugh, wide eyes amused as he watched you huff, and you rolled your eyes as Dustin waited expectantly. “I’m not a mindreader, Henderson. Ask him yourself."

Without so much as another glance in your direction, Dustin turned his attention back to the shelf he and Eddie had spent twenty minutes dissecting. “I’m busy,” he declared, fingers reaching for another tape that he had no intention of renting.

“Un-busy yourself. Now, preferably,” you snapped, eyes narrowing as Dustin turned to look at you. Before he could respond - mutter something smart, a quip that would leave you more annoyed - Eddie laughed and nudged his shoulder.

Eddie’s eyes, wide and pretty - a glassy brown that you could lose yourself in, given the chance - met yours. There was a knowing glimmer, the understanding that you wanted him alone, though you could see a hint of confusion as he tried to imagine just what you could want. “I think you’ve got about five seconds to leave before she snaps, Henderson. Might want to make yourself scarce.”

With Eddie’s encouragement, Dustin shot you an unimpressed glower before he stomped across the floor, muttering all the while. Beneath his breath, he mumbled something about not understanding girls, a huff that Suzie was the least difficult girl in his life, and had the nerves not been threatening to choke you, you would’ve laughed.

“I love those kids,” you began, eyes following Dustin’s retreating form as he approached the counter with an exaggerated huff, “but, man.”

A soft huff of laughter, accompanied by the crinkle of leather as Eddie stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, met your eyes. That knowing smile grew a touch brighter, something more understanding, as he nodded. “It’s his tone,” he declared, grin conspiratorial. “A little humility would go far there.”

“Thank you! That’s what I’ve been saying!”

Eddie laughed and shook his head as you tossed your arms, exasperated, before glancing at you from beneath his lashes. Despite the clear amusement still settled across his features, it was obvious that he was studying you. It made you eager to shrink beneath his gaze, unused to being the center of his attention for longer than a few moments, but you willed yourself to keep your head held high as he raised a brow.

“So, Henderson’s gone,” he pointed out, dragging each syllable out just a moment longer than necessary. “What’s up? If you’re lookin’ to buy, I don’t have anything with me. We could meet later, though, if you want.”

“No, no. That’s not -“ You cut yourself off with a shake of your head, incredulous laughter threatening to escape as you did. “I don’t want to buy. I was thinking, maybe we could watch a movie or something? I want to watch The Return of the Living Dead but my friends are all chickens. I know you like horror so, I just thought, maybe we could watch it together.”

Eddie blinked, clearly caught off guard, and stilled for what felt like an eternity. In reality, only a moment passed before his lips began to curve into a slow smile. There was mischief glittering in his eyes, a warmth you hadn’t seen from him before, and you knew in that moment that Steve was right. “Are you asking me on a date, princess?”

“I am.” Despite his best attempt at nonchalance, Eddie’s brows winged up at your blunt acknowledgement. “Are you going to say yes?”

“Fuck yeah,” he agreed, easy and quick as he laughed. “If I ever say no to a date with you, assume I’ve finally lost it. But, uh, you sure about this?”

Eddie glanced across the store - met another pair of warm brown eyes before Steve and Dustin both hurriedly busied themselves with pretending they weren’t attempting to eavesdrop - and you rolled your eyes. He was far from the first person to assume there was more going on between you and Steve than friendship, but you were quick to dispel that line of thinking.

“Completely.” You debated for a moment, curious as to whether you should dig yourself deeper, but the bright glint in Eddie’s eyes - hopeful and delighted - spurred you on. “I’ve kinda had a thing for you for a while,” you admitted, attempting to feign nonchalance as you swiped at a wayward piece of dust on a shelf. His surprise was evident, brows lifting beneath the curl of his hair, but before he could comment, you barreled on. “My parents are out of town. I have to finish my shift,” you began, glancing at the clock above the desk, “but you can come over at, like, seven?”

“Seven, yeah.” Eddie’s agreement was quick, voice a little dreamy - as if he still couldn’t quite believe you’d asked him out, that you were seriously inviting him over or that you’d admitted to having a thing for him. “That sounds good. I, uh, I’ll see you then.”

“Cool, awesome.” You nodded, grinning at him - unable to even feign nonchalance as his smile mirrored your own - before you turned back to the desk. “I’ll see you at seven, then.”

Neither Eddie nor Dustin lingered long after your conversation - the latter, no doubt, leaving with the knowledge of where Eddie would be spending his evening, thanks to his gossiping with Steve. Eddie left with a smile in your direction and you saw his flailing celebration the second he stepped out of the store, even if you dutifully pretended not to noice.

Steve, however, made it a point to keep the joyous gesture at the forefront of your mind.

For the remaining three hours of your shift, you endured Steve’s teasing. He poked fun at your upcoming date, wondering idly if Eddie would be waiting for you when you arrived home - too excited too wait until seven - or if he’d wear something other than his leather jacket or black t-shirt. But, no matter what he said, you simply rolled your eyes and kept checking the clock every ten minutes.

The time seemed to crawl, passing so slowly that you were half-sure Dustin changed the clocks just to mess with you, but when the hour struck six, you were out the door with a parting wave and a bright ‘thanks’ to Steve for taking on closing duties alone.

There was little time for anything more than a change of clothes and a quick tidying of your home before seven rolled around, but you knew that Eddie wouldn’t really mind. Though there was something about him that made you nervous - excited, giddy, some kind of schoolgirl crush - if you really thought about it, you figured there was little you could do that would truly bother him.

And, thankfully, before you could think too much about it and send yourself spiraling, a knock sounded at the door.

At seven on the dot, you found Eddie standing at your front door. He’d changed - his leather jacket remained, but it covered a nicer shirt instead of the worn Metallica shirt he’d donned earlier in the afternoon - and you could smell the green apple of his shampoo as he grinned at you.

“Hey.” Though he attempted nonchalance with an easy smile, you could see the nervous tension in his shoulders.

Eddie had been burned - you knew that - and he was likely waiting for the catch. There was none, just a desire to get to know him better, and you wanted desperately for him to know that. So you mustered up your widest grin and held the door open for him.

“Hi. Come in.” As he stepped inside, closer than necessary - shoulder brushing yours, so close you could feel the heat radiating from his body - you hoped he don’t notice the breath you took to steady yourself. “So, I got Return of the Living Dead and Sleepaway Camp. Not sure if you’ve seen either, but Return is supposed to be amazing and Sleepaway Camp is one of my favorites.”

“I haven’t seen Return yet,” he admitted as you closed the front door, “but I’ve heard good things. Sleepaway Camp, though? This whole time, I thought you were cool.” The jab was teasing, meant entirely in jest and accompanied by a grin, and earned a roll of your eyes as you gestured for him to follow you deeper into the living room.

“I don’t know where you got that idea, but I’m happy to prove you wrong.” Eddie followed, close enough that. He could reach out and touch you, and the idea made your thoughts a little fuzzy as you approached the couch. “I won’t be taking any Sleepaway Camp slander, though. It’s killer.”

Eddie paused, tilted his head and regarded you with furrowed brows and a badly concealed smile as he watched you reach for the tapes. “…was that a really bad pun?”

“I keep getting cooler, I’m aware.” Eddie laughed, unable to conceal his smile any longer, as he took a seat at one end of the couch. “I was going to say we could start with Return since neither of us have seen it but now, you’re going to suffer through Sleepaway Camp first.”

As you placed the tape into the VCR and pressed play, you could hear the shuffling of Eddie tossing his leather jacket onto the chair beside the couch. “Fine by me,” he hummed, a sly grin on his lips as you glanced at him over your shoulder. “Maybe the company will make it better.” When you fixed him with your best unimpressed look - a feat, considering the heat traveling to your cheeks - his grin grew a touch wider. “I keep getting more charming, I’m aware.”

“Wow.” The nervous energy began to dissipate with every teasing jab. You were reminded of how easily you’d always gotten along with Eddie - how easily you’d always been able to converse with him, despite the crush that made you conscious of your every move - as you approached the couch yourself. “You know, now that you mention it, I never realized…” Warm brown eyes tracked your every move, anticipating - hoping for - a compliment as you took a seat at the opposite end. “… just how big your head was.”

The opening scene began to play, sounds of a B-horror film filling the small space, as he reached for the lamp on the side table. “Big head, big… well, you know how the saying goes,” he teased as he settled deeper into the cushions and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I do but I’m pretty sure that is totally not how it starts.”

Eddie shrugged, grin never faltering as he watched you reach for the lamp at your end of the couch. “Same thing. Creative license and all that.”

“Right. All the songwriting and campaign planning, makes sense you get a little creative.” When he tipped his head, seemingly surprised that you knew about both his songwriting and campaign planning, you rolled your eyes. “I’ve had a crush on you for, like, three years. I know things about you, Eddie. And, I mean, I spend time around Dustin Henderson, begrudgingly most of the time, but he talks about you all the time. So, I’ve picked up some things.”

There was a look of something akin to awe on his face as you shifted closer. “You’re pretty, you like horror and metal, and you like me. Why?”

It broke your heart to hear the doubt in his voice - to see the hesitance in his eyes, the residual concern that he was being left out of the joke - and you couldn’t help but sigh as you continued shifting closer to him. “Because you like horror and metal and you’re kinda cool. And, I mean, it doesn’t hurt that you’re kinda hot, too.”

“You know,” he spared the television a glance, “if you didn’t have sort of questionable taste, I’d think this was all too good to be true. But, I’m not gonna question it too much ‘cause you’re kinda cool, too. And definitely hot.”

“Glad to know we’re on the same page, then. Now, are we going to just talk or are you going to allow me to educate you in good horror?”

Eddie’s laughter drowned out a brief moment of dialogue - a line you could easily recite - as he tossed an arm over the back of the couch and shook his head. “‘M sorry. Educate away, princess.”

For a few brief moments, the pair of you settled. Eddie kept his attention on the television - and even cracked a smile or two at some of your favorite moments - while you kept your attention on him. His side profile was captivating, so distracting that you didn’t notice the minutes ticking away as you studied him, and he was kind enough to refrain from pointing out your obvious staring as the film played on.

Though you could feel the rapid beat of your heart, a warmth prickling at your skin as you remained conscious of the fact that you’d finally taken the leap and had a chance to make your move, Eddie seemed unfazed by the proximity as he laughed at a particularly cheesy scene. However, when you shifted closer - body now practically touching his - you caught his sharp inhale.

It brought you a sort of comfort to realize that he was not as unaffected as he seemed, nowhere near as nonchalant about the entire encounter as he wanted you to believe, and you couldn’t help but smile as you tipped your head to look at him.

“Do I make you nervous?”

The question was teasing, a light jab, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Of course you do,” he confirmed with a nod and a laugh as he glanced at you. “You’re smart and cool and hot. You fucking terrify me.”

“Me?” You scoffed, despite yourself, and shook your head. “As if. I’m totally not scary.”

“‘M serious.” Eddie relaxed, if only slightly, and shifted his body to face you fully as his arm fell around your shoulders. “No one had their shit together in high school, but you did. You knew what you wanted and it was kind of intimidating.”

“I definitely did not have my shit together,” you confessed, laughing as you leaned into his embrace. “But I’m glad it looked like I did. Maybe I’m just a good actress.”

“If that’s acting, you should be up for an Oscar, princess.”

As Eddie laughed, a quiet sound that washed over you and filled your chest with a sticky warmth, you shook your head. “You’re the only one who gets to call me that, you know?”

Eddie hummed, a flash of confusion washing over his face, before he asked, “What, princess?”

“Mm. I think if it was anyone else, it would sound condescending. Like they’re trying to be a prick, you know. But I don’t mind it from you,” you confessed. “It’s kinda nice.”

That grin you were beginning to love - genuine, warm, happy - lifted his lips as he shifted once more and knocked your knee with his own. “I’m not a big fan of nicknames, for obvious reasons,” he confided, “but I like it when you call me Eds. It’s kinda cute.”

“God, we’re kinda gross.”

“Totally. But I’m not complaining.” Eddie removed his arm from around your shoulders and brought his hand to cup your cheek. He paused for a moment, studying your face, before he asked, “Does it make me a total loser if I’ve thought about kissing you for, like, ever?”

For a split second, you wondered if he could hear the beat of your heart over the screaming emanating from the television - and if you’d heard him properly over the noise. But when you met his expectant gaze, wide brown eyes waiting for you response, you realized you didn’t really care.

“Only if you keep thinking about it instead of actually doing it.”

With your permission, Eddie leaned in and tentatively pressed his mouth to yours. The kiss was careful, hesitant, but you could feel the underlying excitement as the warmth of his palm bled into your skin. Without thinking, you breathed a contented sigh as you lifted your hands to his hair and tugged him impossibly closer.

The noise of the film continued in the background, unnoticed by either of you as Eddie took the initiative to deepen the kiss. He swiped his tongue along the seam of your lips, urging you to open up for him, and you gave in without a moment of hesitation.

As many times as you’d thought about this moment - as many times as you’d pictured yourself in this situation, at the center of Eddie’s attention, with his hands and mouth on you - the reality was infinitely better than any dream. Eddie’s hands were calloused, rough from years of guitar and, now, his work at Thatcher’s, but his touch was featherlight as his hands began to wander.

Gentle fingers brushed along your jaw, dragged down the side of your neck and shoulders, inching lower until they found your waist. Your fingers tangled in his curls, indulging in your long hidden desire to play with his hair, as Eddie pulled away to allow you both a moment to breathe.

“We’re missing the totally not awful movie,” he pointed out, breath fanning over your neck as he dipped his head to nose at your jaw.

“We can rewind it later.”

Eddie laughed, his smirk evident as he nipped at the hinge of your jaw before lapping at the skin to soothe the brief sting. “Thought you wanted to educate me, princess,” he teased.

Warm hands began to wander, fingers dipping beneath the hem of your t-shirt to brush the heated skin of your waist, as he pressed soft kisses to your neck. Your own hands began to wander as well, dipping to his chest as he latched onto a patch of skin just beneath your ear.

“Want to kiss you more.”

He hummed, pleased with your answer, as he tipped his head to meet your gaze. Soft brown eyes were blown black and there was a hunger in them that you’d never been privileged enough to see. Now, the sheer weight of his desire hit you all at once as he grinned. “Glad to know we’re on the same page, then.”

Before you could huff, playfully pout at his taunting callback, Eddie reclaimed your lips. This kiss was more heated than the first, hesitance now gone as you realized you both wanted the same thing, and it completely obliterated any remaining thoughts other than how good it felt to have him pressed so close.

Though his hands began to wander, touch fleeting as it dragged across your hips and thighs, over your middle and back to your arms, he remained respectful. As eager as you both were, his hands only fell to your chest when you lifted them there yourself.

Eddie groaned into the kiss the moment you placed his hands, fingers experimentally flexing as you shifted impossibly closer.

“You can touch me however you want,” you allowed, word exhaled against his mouth as you separated just an inch to breathe. “I’ll tell you to stop if I don’t want something.”

“Fuck.” His forehead fell to yours, curls beginning to stick to his forehead with the lightly beading sweat, as he laughed. “Ditto. I’m all yours, princess. Take whatever you want.”

“That’s a dangerous offer.” The hand you’d left on his bicep, fingers tracing the stark black ink of his tattoo, began to wander then. Slowly, you raked the tips of your fingers down his chest - not bothering to hide your grin as he inhaled sharply at the sensation of your fingers raking over his lower stomach - and stopped at the buckle of his belt. “What if I want everything?”

“It’s yours. Been yours,” he admitted, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his gaze met yours once more. “Fuck, you’re all I want, princess. ‘ve been crazy about you for a while.”

“Keep talking like that and you might make me fall in love, Eds.” It was too late - you were already halfway there - and you both knew it. Still, Eddie laughed dutifully as his gaze fell to watch your hands tug at his belt buckle.

“Give me a few hours. I’ve been there, time for you to join me.”

The admission was half-teasing, accompanied by a breathless laugh as you worried with the warm metal beneath your fingers, but it still filled your stomach with a storm of butterflies. The time you’d spent pining over Eddie could’ve been spent lying beneath him, going on dates with him, enjoying time with him, and you were determined to make up for lost time as you tipped your head and pressed your lips to his once more.

“I’m closer than you think.”

Before he could consider your admission too closely, you pulled away and slipped off the couch to kneel between his spread thighs. Those brown eyes went wide, big and disbelieving, as you unbuckled his belt.

“Whoa. Fuck, wait.” Eddie swallowed harshly as he swept his hair from his eyes and glanced down at you. A gentle hand fell to your cheek, urging you to meet his eyes as he blinked away the lust-fueled stupor. “You don’t have to… I mean, I don’t expect you to -“

“Eddie.” He paused, tongue darting out to wet his lips once more, as you cut him off mid-sentence. “You can say no. But I want to. Is that okay?”

Eddie was far from a blushing virgin. You’d heard the rumors, tales of just how talented he was - had even heard the stories of a few trysts from the man himself - but his hesitation gave you pause. However, before you could pull away, he assured you.

“Yeah! Yeah, that’d be - yeah. I’ve had sex. I’ve just… No one has ever… It’s usually a quick fuck and then back to whoever they’re supposed to be dating,” he confessed, pink tinging his cheeks as he hurried to explain himself. “Blowjobs aren’t usually the priority.”

Though you knew Eddie fairly well, enough to have been half-in love with him for a while, you knew his reputation. But to know that others had taken advantage of his desire to love and be loved in return, it made your chest ache. Despite his reputation for being a freak - for being scary, intimidating - you knew that he was a sweetheart who deserved more than he’d been given. And you wanted to show him that you were apply to make him a priority.

“I’d love to be the first, if you’ll let me.”

“Fuck.” Eddie shuddered, his chest heaved with a sharp breath, as he raked a hand through his hair and nodded. “Yeah,” he allowed, “yeah, please.”

Eddie leaned back into the cushions then, allowing himself to relax into the plush of the couch as you popped the button on his jeans. It was obvious just how much he was enjoying the attention - plain to see from the bulge in his jeans and the pink staining his cheeks and neck - and you couldn’t help but smile as you took in the sight of him.

“You’re so pretty, Eddie.” It was reverent, a breathless observation as you tugged at the denim and studied the slope of his nose - the curve of his jaw, the wild tangle of his hair - and you meant it wholeheartedly.

“Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere, princess.” He lifted his hips, allowing you to tug at the denim just enough to expose his boxers - cheeks flushing darker when you bit back a smile at the sight of the blue and white checkerboard pattern.

“Not flattery, just honesty. You’re distracting,” you admitted, glancing up at him from beneath your lashes as you began to palm at the bulge in his boxers. “But I wanna see how much prettier you are when you’re falling apart.”

“You’re killing me. Fuck.”

Deciding that he’d had enough teasing, you gave in to the desire and tugged at the final layer of material separating you. The moment you exposed him to the air, you both gasped - him at the sensation of cool air hitting blistering warm skin, you at the sight of him.

Without thought, you spit into your palm before allowing yourself to reach out and experimentally stroke his cock. Eddie groaned at the feeling, his head tipping back and his eyes fluttering shut, and you felt a surge of warmth wash over you. Each noise he made ran straight to your core, fanned the flames of the fire already beginning to burn out of control, and you shifted to allow yourself some relief before leaning in to lap at the bead of precum already beginning to form.

Another noise, this one louder, met your ears as a warm hand fell to your head. He was careful not to push, careful not to attempt to take control, as he sought to anchor himself to the moment but you wouldn’t have minded either way. And as you traced the vein running along the underside of his cock before taking the head between your lips, you could hear him swear beneath his breath.

Though you were tempted to prolong the pleasure, witness him falling apart piece by piece as you slowly worked him up, you were too worked up yourself to do more than take as much of him a you could into your mouth. You knew there would be time to experiment later - time to push yourself to take him all - so you focused on giving him the best experience you could in that moment.

It only took a few moments for his thighs to begin to flex beneath your touch, for his chest to heave and his noises of pleasure to grow louder. And though you could see the hint of embarrassment tinging his cheeks at beginning to fall apart so soon, you felt a surge of pride at your ability to rile him up so completely.

But before you could lift your head and urge him to come, assure him that it was alright, he spoke. “Fuck, princess. I don’t wanna come in your mouth.” Eddie urged you up, then, away from his cock as he attempted to catch his breath and pull himself back from the brink. “Wanna come with you. Can I fuck you?”

The blunt question warmed you from within, stole your breath and had you keening as you nodded eagerly. “Please.” A moan escaped your lips as he reached out to cup your cheek and pull you into a messy kiss that was an eager clash of tongue and teeth.

For a moment, you both lost yourselves in the kiss. Eddie groaned as your hand remained on his cock, fingers stroking slowly as you waited for him to gather himself, only for him to swear as he broke the kiss. “Shit. Fuck, I don’t have a condom,” he lamented, eyes falling shut. “Sorry. Wan’t exactly expecting,” he waved a hand, gesturing to your hand, “this.”

Luckily for the both of you, you still had a stash of condoms - given to you by Steve as a joke the last time you considered asking Eddie out - in your nightstand. “I do,” you revealed, giggling as his shoulders relaxed. “C’mon, pretty boy.”

As you stood, offering Eddie your hand, he groaned once more. “Is it your goal to kill me, princess? Because I think you might actually kill me.”

“What a way to go, though, hm?”

Eddie stood, quickly tugged his jeans up but left them unbuttoned, and followed close behind as you led him up the stairs, his hand warm in yours. You could feel his body heat radiating, could hear his shallow breathing as he attempted to even it out, and you were secretly satisfied to know that you had such an impact on him.

Even more, however, you were thrilled to know that you were only moments away from getting what you wanted.

With quick steps, you tugged him down the hall and into your bedroom, pulling the door shut behind you as you entered. Once inside, Eddie paused for a moment to take in the sight.

“You know, I was expecting a Tom Cruise poster,” he teased, laughing only slightly when instead he saw Nikki Sixx.

“What can I say? I’ve got a thing for pretty, dark-haired metalheads.”

A smirk quirked his mouth as he tugged you close, hands falling to your waist as he dipped his head to capture your lips. The kiss was eager, uncoordinated and messy but breathtaking as his hands began to wander. Deft fingers flitted to the button of your jeans, and after a moment of hesitation, popped them open.

“If you want to stop, we can,” he reminded you, fingers ghosting along the sliver of skin just above your jeans. “We totally don’t have to do this.”

“You’re incredibly sweet, Eds.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, hands drifting to his hair to tug at the curls as you met his gaze. “But if you don’t fuck me, I might cry and I don’t feel like crying tonight.”

Eddie grinned, glad you were as eager as he was, and hummed as his fingers began to drift lower. “Can’t have you crying on my watch, princess. ‘Less they’re good, ‘I totally fucked you stupid’ tears.”

“I mean, if you’re up to the challenge, then by all means.”

Though it might’ve been the wrong thing to say, a taunt you would later regret, he took the challenge for what it was worth. There was a determined glint in his eyes, a burning desire that tied your stomach in knots, and it was burned into your field of view as he pressed his mouth to yours once more.

For a moment, you weren’t certain which sensation to focus on as Eddie’s tongue licked at the seam of your lips and his fingers ghosted over the cotton of your panties. However, he drew your full, undivided attention as he nudged the fabric aside and swiped his fingers through your slick folds.

A hum of encouragement met your ears as Eddie coated his fingers in your slick, teasing for just a moment before he found the sensitive bundle of nerves. With his lips a fraction of an inch from yours, he asked, “This all from blowing me?”

It was incredulous, almost as if he couldn’t believe it, but you hummed. “Thought about it for ages. Reality was better.”

“Don’t think I’ll last long enough to return the favor right now,” he confessed, breath fanning across your lips as he rubbed lazy circles over the bundle of nerves, “but I’ve gotta taste you before tonight’s over. Got myself off so many times thinking about it, ‘bout you.”

Eddie grinned at the moan you released, at the way you sagged against him - unable to hold yourself entirely upright with the promise of him between your thighs, the thought of him touching himself to that image. “You sure you’re not trying to kill me?”

“What a way to go.” He lingered, just for a second, before Eddie pulled away and shushed your whine with a press of his mouth to yours. “I’m gonna come in my jeans if I don’t get inside you soon, princess. Promise to take my time with you later. Gonna give you everything you deserve, treat you right.”

“Ditto.” He laughed, amused and flattered in equal measure, as he began to tug at his clothes. Encouraged, you followed suit and, soon enough, a pile of garments littered your bedroom floor.

However, neither of you dwelled on the sight for long as you headed for the bed, stopping only to retrieve a foil packet from the bedside drawer.

Every dream encounter you shared with Eddie varied - sometimes he was soft, other times he manhandled you exactly the way you wanted; sometimes he was quick, others he teased for hours - but nothing lived up to the reality of having him climb into your bed after you.

This encounter would be quick and dirty, a desperate search for relief, but you knew that it was only the first of many. And, encouraged by the future that now seemed so clear, you reached out and tugged him into you.

Lithe arms braced themselves at either side of your head, tattoos stark against his pale skin, and you hummed as you decided you would someday spend as much time as he’d allow you committing them to memory. But that could wait. For now, you simply savored the weight of him above you and tangled your fingers in his hair as he positioned himself at your entrance.

“Haven’t even gotten inside and I already can’t wait to do this again,” he confessed, dipping his head to nip at the hinge of your jaw. “And again. And again. I’m already ruined for you, princess.”

Before you could confess the same sentiment, admit your utter ruin at his hands, he pressed his hips forward and began to sink into you. The stretch was bearable, a tinge of discomfort completely overshadowed by the warmth of his skin against yours - the weight of his body pressed to yours, the nip of his teeth at your jaw - and you inhaled sharply at the feeling.

Eddie stilled for a few long moments, hands stroking at whatever skin he could reach - your hips, your thighs, your stomach - as he breathed reverent nonsense. The words blurred, compliments and awed whispers of how good you felt, but it paled in comparison to the moan he released when you yanked at his curls and begged for him to finally move.

The pace he set was blistering, deep and quick and perfect, and you marveled at how right his touch felt. Every snap of his hips, every brush of his mouth against your skin, every whispered word of praise; it felt as if each was a puzzle piece, suddenly falling into place.

Though he took great care to ensure your pleasure, he made no attempt to treat you like a doll, like something that might shatter beneath his touch, and you were grateful for the heavy press of his hands to your skin as he pawed at your thighs. Almost immediately, you understood one another - both quickly fell into step beside one another - and you felt the flames he’d been fanning begin to grow out of control.

Heat engulfed you, body burning with every swipe of his fingers and snap of his hips, and it grew harder to draw your breath as his fingers found your clit. Eddie nipped at your jaw, breath fanning over your skin and sending goosebumps erupting, as he encouraged, “Come for me, princess. Wanna feel you.”

With anyone else, you might’ve been embarrassed at how quickly you barreled toward your release - at how eager you were to give in and come just because he asked - but this was Eddie. Anything he wanted, you would at least consider, and your body knew it well. So with a few swipes of his fingers and another snap of his hips, you barreled over the edge with a cry of his name.

Almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting for you, he followed suit. One, two, three snaps of his hips before he buried his face in the crook of your neck and came with a moan that you knew would play on a loop in your happiest of dreams.

For a few moments after, you both lay still - Eddie with his head buried in the crook of your neck, hands still stroking your heated skin; you, with your eyes shut and lips parted as you caught your breath, fingers raking through his curls. It was blissful, a moment you’d dreamt about, but the dream was interrupted by reality as discomfort began to set in.

When you began to squirm, Eddie quickly pulled away - pulled out and cooed when you whimpered at the loss - and tossed the used condom into the bin beside your bed before returning to lay beside you. He pulled you close, wrapped his arms around you and tugged you into his chest, and you both lay in silence for a long moment before he spoke.

“So, you wanna actually watch those movies now?”

With a laugh, you tipped your head and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Mm. Give me a minute. Gotta return to the land of the living first.”

“Take your time, princess. When you do, though, maybe you can return as my girlfriend.”

Eddie could almost certainly feel your smile, grin bright and happy as you hummed against his skin. “Yeah,” you agreed easily, not bothering to hide the giddiness you felt, “I think that can be arranged.”

Though it wasn’t how you pictured your evening, you knew it was better than anything you could’ve imagined. And, while Steve would be annoying, you couldn’t wait to venture back into the world with your boyfriend by your side.

__________________________________________________

Author's Note: Take this away from me. I've been working on this forever but got stuck on the smut.

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#stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson filth #v's fics

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explicit-tae · 7 months

Text

Ungodly Hour (1)

That time you - a broke college student - were willing to do just about anything for a hulu account after your brother kicks you off of his - (and Jungkook would do anything to have you).

Series Masterlist

Word count: 1.687

Warning: idk yall, i was bored, smut, college au, jungkook is thirsty, reader is somewhat slutty but with good reasons, dirty talking, swallowing, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, riding, cumming,

Your mouth wrapped around the tip of Jungkook’s cock, twirling the head in your mouth. You only slightly (maybe more than you want to admit) the way the salty pre-cum drips into your mouth as you suck. Even better were his moans - so soft and velvety; melodic.

if anyone was to blame it had to be your brother - he was the nuisance in your life. It was as if he intended on making your life a complete mess.

You were a good person, daughter and sister. You did what you had to do - attend classes everyday. You went to work and then home without a care. You worked at a grocery store part time and made enough to pay your half of the rent. Sure, with the price of groceries now you couldn’t be bothered to buy any. But that’s where your parents came in. You craved independence from them but only for privacy. You made sure you were there every night for dinner and sometimes if you had time, breakfast in the mornings.

Your brother was just upset that you accidentally bought an add-on on his hulu account - but how else were you supposed to watch what you wanted if he was too cheap to pay for anything further? It was bad enough you had to sit through 2 minute ads - it was the least he could do.

This is how you now found yourself sucking Jungkook off - the same man you had been dodging ever since the pair of you met. He gave off fuck boy vibes and the last thing you needed was that in your life - until you actually did need Jungkook. The irony.

Jungkook watches with hooded eyes at the beautiful sight of you. You had now grasped the length of his cock and began to pump him, focusing more on the tip of his head. He was glad the two of you were alone - seeing as you didn’t even have the decency to take him to your room and insisted on doing this on the couch. But Jungkook wasn’t a picky person - he prayed for times such as this. You were the play hard to get type and one thing he enjoyed was the chase.

Jungkook places a hand on the back of your head and thrusts lighty into your mouth, groaning as he does so. You allowed it. You laid your tongue flat, eyes flickering up to watch his expression. Satisfaction bubbled deep inside of you at the sight of his lust-filled expression. Dark hooded eyes, gasping lips.

“I waited, fuck…so long for this.” Jungkook groans, pumping inside of your mouth a little faster. His thumb caresses your cheek. “I told you that I’d have you one day, didn’t I?” he says smugly.

You groan a response, throat vibrating against his cock. That bastard, you thought. Jungkook did - he told you that one day your “play hard to get” act would crumble and when it did, he’d be there. But this couldn’t count - right? You were doing this for the greater good, after all. You had shows to watch and Jungkook just so happened to be the one that had a premium account.

You feel the tip of Jungkook’s cock tickling the back of your throat, testing to see how far you’d let him go. There’s a trail of saliva dripping from the corner of your lips and it drips slowly down your chin. Your mouth was heavy - wet and warm and inviting. You were determined to make him cum and he was determined to do just that.

Jungkook’s hand grips your hair - you moan at the sensation. He pumps just a little faster, your slurps and gagging hitting his ears and he moans at just how filthy you were for him.

“I’m about to cum.” Jungkook groans. His free hand wipes away a lone tear that releases from your eye. “You okay?” he asks, slowing his thrusts.

Your response was to bring him deeper into your mouth, blinking up at him. You slap his thigh harshly and that was all the permission he needed to fuck your throat. He shudders, feeling his toes curl. It didn’t help that your teary eyes watched his every move - and Jungkook couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Even now while he took control, you remain just as stubborn; challenging him. “F-Fuck…” Jungkook grunts. “W-Where do I cum?”

Jungkook wants to slap himself, forgetting that you can’t exactly respond to him. But he’s unsure if cumming inside of your mouth would be too intimate - but then again, you could always spit it out and he would be fine with that.

You gag, feeling your throat swell with the warm, salty substance. You inhale through your nose and moan. “L-Let me find-” Jungkook watches as you swallow and lick your lips - he feels his cheeks redden and his heart thump.

You wipe your eyes of the pathetic tears and hum. “Don’t get big headed.” you hiss.

Jungkook smirks and bats his eyelashes. “Never.” he says. “I already made you a profile on my hulu account.”

You watch as Jungkook takes out his phone to show you the account and like state, he did make you your own profile. You snort at the name - stargirl. “I’ll text you the information to get into it.”

You place your hands onto his thighs. Your eyes lower to his cock - it wasn’t completely erect, but it wasn’t softening, either.

“I was told I would get peacock and hbo max.” you say to him. You didn’t want to tell him that you were wet and wanted to ride him, his head was already big enough.

“I have hbo max as an add on with hulu.” Jungkook responds, eyes darkening at the thought of feeling you.

“Hm. That’s too bad.” you tilt your head. “I wanted to ride you.”

“I can add disney.” Jungkook responds far too quickly, mentally cursing at how desperate he appeared.

Smirking, you nod your head. “Deal.”

Jungkook’s eyes are wide when you lift from your knees and kick off your shorts, panties flying with them. He’s erect once more at the sight of your slick trailing down your thighs. Your thighs trap him beneath you as you center yourself on him. “I’m not on any birth control.”

Jungkook gulps. His hands place themselves firmly on your hips. “I can pull out.” he nods. “Unless you want another streaming service as payment for me cumming inside of you.” he jokes - unless…

Jungkook smirks at you and you could only glare. You sit down on him completely and wipe the smirk from his lips. Your hands grip his shoulders as you begin to pound on him. It doesn’t take time for the entire sitting room is filled with your moans mixed with Jungkooks as well as skin slapping.

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” Jungkook murmurs, inching closer to capture your lips with his own. You never said anything against kissing is his defense.

You deepen the kiss, grinding against him. “Says the man who hasn’t stopped moaning since we started.”

Jungkook chuckles and does just that. His hands trail from your hips, to your thighs and upwards towards your breast. He grips both of your clothed breasts into his palms. “Pussy feels so good, I can’t help myself.”

You swallow your own moan back. You can’t let him know his words turn you on - he would never let you live it down. It’s bad enough you were fucking him for streaming services.

You shifted yourself, your feet firmly against the couch. You looked into his eyes as you began to bounce on him once more, satisfied that the man below you was a moaning mess - and broke eye contact first. His eyes begin to roll at the new found pleasure.

You decided that you wouldn’t hide your own pleasure anymore. Jungkook was big and this position only meant that his cock was hitting the right spot each time.

“I know it feels good, baby.” Jungkook’s voice brings you back to reality - and so does his thumb upon your clit. His thumb rubs hastily on it, enjoying the way your pussy tightens around his cock.

“It does.” Maybe you were growing weak - but only because it did feel good. That, and the way Jungkook’s voice grows deeper and more sultry as he speaks is an added turn on.

“What happened to the playing hard to get girl I know?” Jungkook’s now thrusting upwards inside of you to meet you halfway.

You clench around him. “Fuck you.” you murmur.

“I intend to.” Jungkook manages to laugh, his thumb leaving your clit to hook beneath your thighs. He continues where you left off, stamina unmatched. He pounds into you with such need - as if this was what he had been waiting for for who knows how long.

Your arms wrap around his neck and allow him the control - just this once. Jungkook’s reveling in your submission, murmuring dirty words in your ears as he fucks you. You were so wet - slick gripping out of you and onto his thighs - that he knew neither of you would last long.

You bite your lip when you feel Jungkook’s hands on your ass. He squeezes it with such need, moaning beautifully in your ears as his thrusts turn sloppy. “Where do I cum?” he asks suddenly.

“Anywhere.” was your response.

Jungkook took your lack of direction as a sign. His fingers lean down from your ass to find your clit once more. He toys with it as he thrusts, hellbent on making sure you cum right along with him. He wasn’t going to last - not with the way you were squeezing his cock right now.

“S-Shit!” you hiss, feeling yourself come undone right as Jungkook pulls out of you, cum leaking on your ass.

Jungkook leans against the couch and pants. There was no way he was going to leave you alone after this - but that’s okay because he knows you’ll close up once more and play that game you’ve been playing. Jungkook loved the chase and deep down, so do you.

Series Masterlist

#bts college au #college au #bangtanwritershq #bts smut #btsmasterlist2022 #btswritersclub #bangtan smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #fake tweets #explicit-tae #bangtanwriters net #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #jungkook college au #ungodly hour #jungkook friends with benefits #bts fwb

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cursingtoji · 5 months

Text

ᥫ᭡ 𝐬𝐨... 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰?

— where satoru comforts you after breaking up with toji

gojo being lowkey yandere, fem reader, toji is the ex, mentions of baby trapping, reader is older, gojo calls her senpai (almost as a mock), classroom smut, fingering, gojo has to wear a condom and he hates it, he’s also a bit pathetic and in love, reader is a bit of bitch. 4k (this was supposed to be drabble idk what happened)

“i know what you’re thinking” gojo’s voice breaks the silence in the classroom where you were supposed to be grading papers but instead has been looking through the window for god knows how long now.

the sudden appearing happens after gojo catches your lost gaze on the field some of his students were training at. he saw your profile looking down at your desk, then after a few minutes you looked through the window until your eyes set on gojo’s protégée and the son of the man that broke your heart.

“but if you keep doing that megumi will get creeped out by you” gojo simply manifested in your classroom as soon as he realized you would stay in trance not even noticing your fellow teacher staring back at you from below.

“whatever, he never liked me anyways” you brush off, then remember what he said before, “and what the hell makes you think you know what i’m thinking?”

“ah, you forgot? i have an eye or six for this sorta thing” he points to his blindfold.

“you saying you can read minds now, you freak?” your relationship with satoru always had that dynamic. toji usually got very annoyed whenever he was in the same room as the two of you, he tried to pull you away or make an excuse for you two to go back to his place. deep down you knew he felt some type of way whenever you and satoru banter like that.

“please you’re so transparent i wonder how megumi haven’t seen it yet, i'm concerned that he might need glasses…”

“just say what you wanna say, satoru.”

gojo, on the other hand, didn’t need an instinct to see how jealous and possessive toji could be when he was around. all that gojo needed to say was one word to trigger the old man.

“every time you see megumi you think about him, don’t you?” he takes a step in your direction while you sink in your chair looking away, “senpai.”

gojo never showed respect for anyone, he was scolded several times by yaga because of it, utahime tried to hit him whenever she could, demanding formal treatment since she was his upperclassmen. but you, for whatever reason he decided, was the only one he used that honorific with.

“he’s his kid, of course i’ll—“

“ever since i heard about your breakup you’ve been acting like everything is fine, except for when you see megumi, then you frown,” gojo extends his index and taps the space between your eyebrows “and your cursed energy increases” he then sits on your desk looking down at you, “don’t tell me megumi had anything to do with why toji—“

“of course not” you stop him, although megumi was never fond of you, you know he’s a good kid and wouldn’t try to get in the way of your relationship with his father. as far as you know, he’s not particularly close to his old man either. actually, anything related to toji — bets, races, you — is automatically disregarded by him.

“then you gotta stop looking at him like he did something, or before you realize your energy towards him will become hostile and i can’t let that happen” gojo’s tone became more severe, it’s one of those rare times where he drops the playful persona in order to get serious. truthfully, megumi did nothing, but you can't unsee toji when you look at him, especially after seeing what your ex-boyfriend used to look like in the old days when he showed you some photos. it never occurred to you before, since you barely saw megumi anyways, you're not his sensei and in your free time you were with toji so there wasn't much time to get to know megumi since they don’t live together since the boy was five. you suppose gojo is right, pushing your hurt feelings away only makes them come out stronger when you see anything that reminds you of toji.

“that’s not gonna happen, i have my energy under control” you cross your arms, feeling exposed under gojo’s gaze even through the mask.

he stays quiet for a second, then his annoying tone is back.

“what did you even see in him anyways? he’s definitely not a good guy.”

“that’s rude, toji is—“

“did you think you could change him or something?”

“i— no, why—“

“from what megumi said he was cheap as fuck so it was definitely not the money” he rubs his chin.

“gojo, i swear—“

“was it the sex?”

you widen your eyes and close your mouth, not having a simple answer for that.

“jackpot” satoru whispers.

“fuck off, satoru” you raise from your seat but he raises too, blocking your way and trapping you against the black board and his body.

“you stayed with that guy for years just for the sex?” he has a mocking tone that makes your blood boil.

“no! and that’s none of your goddamn business.”

“and you’ve broken up, what? two months ago? you’ve been all this time without sex?” you raise your hand ready to slap his face or punch his nose but he sees your movements faster and catches your wrist, “don’t be like that senpai, your energy is getting hostile again” he takes all the time in the world lowering his blindfold and letting his hair fall down while staring at you with those freaking blue eyes, “although, on second thought i think that might be mmm… sexual frustration? it’s a color i never seen in you before” he grabs your wrist firmly.

“you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“oh but i do, senpai. i’m just wondering how you haven’t downloaded a dating app or tried to rub one off yet” gojo knows exactly which buttons to press to make you wanna stab him, or worst, make you wanna fuck him.

gojo gets closer to your face, so close you can smell his aftershave, and just the realization that it’s a different scent from the one you were so used to makes your heart ache and your clit throb.

“or did you?” he’s fast, gojo catches your phone on top of the table putting it right in front of your face to unlock then moving away from you to check it, “definitely no dating apps” you yell his name and try to snatch your phone back but he puts infinity on and you can’t reach him, “browser history?”

“satoru, you have no right, gimme that” your face is hot with shame.

“nothing either, well i suppose your camera roll…”

“no!”

“aha” he deactivates the invisible shield and right when you think you can retrieve your phone he turns you around, holding your arms behind your back and pressing your back against his chest, “is that what you use to get off?” he puts the phone in front of you, it’s opened in the gallery, more specifically in a part filled with lewd videos and photos.

“not bad, you could make some cash outta this” gojo puts his chin on your shoulder, playing a video which clearly was filmed by toji, his dick is getting in and out of you from behind, he gets a close look with the phone, his glistening dick shining under the flashlight while your pussy stretches to accommodate him. you press your legs together remembering the feeling, you’re not even struggling to get out of gojo’s hold by the time the video ends.

“you don’t need to get off by yourself, you know?” he smells your hair and kisses your ear, “it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”

“that was forever ago” you reply, at the time you thought satoru was going to use that against you, just wait for an opportunity to drop that bomb on toji’s lap and proudly say he fucked his girlfriend before, but whatever image you had of him back then was proved wrong since no one knows about your little escape with gojo till this very day.

“and wasn’t it good? huh?” he presses, sucking the spot on your neck that has you throwing your head back.

“yeah, it was” you confess, too sensible from the light touches to rethink your answers.

“see? i can make you feel good so you don’t become a little monster” he trails his hand on your thigh, pushing your skirt up until he finds your underwear, playing with the hem to tease you then pressing a finger on your clit.

“so charitable of you” you mumble sarcastically.

“i would gladly do this favor to you” he replies in the same tone, “even though you still own me.”

“for what?!” you close your legs around his hand turning your head around to look him in the face, not even considering a world where satoru did you any favors.

“for raising your boyfriend’s son? you really think you would’ve had a sex life with an eight year old summoning pets around the house?” he raises an eyebrow.

“don’t pretend like you did that out of the goodness in your heart, if megumi didn’t have the ten shadows you wouldn’t have bat an eye if toji sold him to the zenin’s or whomever.”

“you sound just like him” gojo’s eyes get darker, now he has your clit slowly rolling between his thumb and index over your underwear.

“besides— hng i came in the picture years after you took megumi… so don’t blame me” you wiggle your ass on his crotch.

“a ‘thank you my favourite kohai’ wouldn’t hurt” you sincerely laugh at that, never thinking of satoru as your underclassmen since that fucking minx is everyone’s exception on their cursed technique due to how powerful he is, so him being below you somehow was never a posibility, at least not strength wide.

satoru pushes your underwear to the side, rubbing the wetness all over your pussy and teasing your entrance.

“five years” you murmur as he inserts a finger then pulls it back to join his middle one too and go back in.

“hm?” satoru gets quieter, after talking so much and having so many things to say you’re surprised he stayed silent for a whole minute.

“last time you fucked me, it was five years ago” you get comfortable on his hold, his leg is between yours, serving as support for you to lean on while he scissors you.

“that long huh…” he sounds… sad? no, maybe nostalgic.

“crazy, right? so much has—“ you sigh when he curls his fingers, “changed.”

satoru take a long sniff of your hair, keeping a pleasing rhythm with his hand, it feels like giving someone a massage. he could go crazy and have you stripped out of your uniform a while ago, fucked you on your desk and left after marking your body and giving your ass a mean slap.

he could still do that, but whatever feeling bloomed in his chest has him enjoying this moment with you in his hold, stroking your insides and smelling your shampoo while discreetly rocking his hips on your behind for some relief.

he almost feels sleepy, the relaxed state has his mind going other places. he thinks of a world where he can tease you under your uniform every other day, you would tell him the school is no such a place for that then the day ends and you go home with him, holding hands, and finally when you arrive home he gets to finish what he started. then, he cooks whatever quick meal he can find the ingredients for since he knows you don't like to cook, afterwards you fall asleep on his lap on the couch as he strokes your hair, your belly is full, your heart is warm, you feel loved and he feels—

“toru~” he comes out of the trance he fell at when you call for him, he thinks for a second you were calling his name cause you felt he was off, but in reality you were calling him cause you are getting close, “right there” your breathy moans makes gojo smile and kiss your temple.

“where? here?” he pretends to not know, when the truth is he never actually forgot after your first time together, “right here, senpai?”

“y-yeah” you throw your head back, shutting your eyes to give in to the orgasm. gojo looks down at your pretty face, he feels the urge to kiss you right now, but he wants you to ask for it first. your walls clench around his fingers, he strokes that spot sweetly, like he's caressing a pet.

which is an ironic comparison since he’s the one that would gladly accept being your pet.

when you open your eyes gojo is staring at you silently through half lid eyes, it is truly a shame that he keeps those hidden for so long.

“desk, now” you demand needly.

“yes ma'am” gojo picks you up easily, moving the papers on top of the table to the floor.

you immediately go for his belt, choosing not to comment on the wet spot on his pants.

you feel a pressure on your chin as he guides your head up to look at him.

“ask me” he pleads.

“for what?”

“for a kiss” you smile, looking at his lips and how inviting they look. you ponder if you should tease him for it, since he's been teasing you with words a lot today, but then you chose to comply, despite going through your phone without our permission and claiming your frustration comes from lack of dick, he's actually being good to you.

“gimme a kiss” you raise your chin higher, he gazes at your lips and eyes, looking for something other than lust, yet he gives in, sealing your lips with his trying to keep his mind away from thinking of the man that had your lips previous to him. and how dumb that motherfucker is to let you go.

gojo's lips are soft, he starts gently which feels foreign to you, but it doesn't take long before his hand presses your lower back, pulling you closer until his cock hits your clothed cunt. the warmth he feels is enough to relish the passion in him, he kisses you harder, tongue intruding your mouth like he's trying to devour you.

the wet kiss also awakens your urge for him, you pull his cock from his underwear in the tiny space between his and your crotch, the second it's out it's already against your folds, the leaking tip hot against your skin.

“nuh-uh you better have a rubber” you push your knee onto gojo’s pelvis when he starts to rub himself on you to spread your wetness on his shaft.

“did you make toji wear one too?” he raises a questionable eyebrow at you, willing to bet all his heritage on the answer.

“he had to earn that privilege” you reach for gojo’s wallet, not failing to notice the black cards and considerable amount of cash, “i don’t know what you do after 6 so…” you take the packs, ripping it open yourself and rolling on him. with a face and body like his you doubt gojo spends most nights by himself.

“unbelievable…”

“satoru” you warn stroking him slowly, “can i get another kiss?” you bat your lashes. gojo comes closer, his nose even touches yours, then you feel his hands on your waist, turning you around till your elbows and chest are against the table and your skirt is being flipped over, underwear pushed down.

“you have to earn it, senpai” he spits the words against your ear as he pushes his dick into you. until a few moments ago, satoru was composed, happy to accept whatever crumbles you chose to give him. you managed to trigger him by saying toji still had something he couldn't have.

he's still gonna go through this — that's how whipped he is for you — though now he’ll be less gentle.

his cockhead hits your spot, nothing accidental of course, satoru knows your spots like the back of his hand. you whine and arch your back, satoru pouts realizing he won't get to suck some hickeys on the skin of your back and shoulder, not now at least, but the night is young.

“c'mon satoru, don't be like that” you look over your shoulder, licking your lips at the sight of him sweaty, flushed and frowny.

the sound of his name in your voice makes him want to cum on the spot, he dips his head on your neck sighing, not stopping thrusting your behind. he wanted to feel you so badly, why the fuck did you make him wear a condom? he's clean, of course he is, he's gojo satoru for heaven's sake! even viruses are afraid of him.

or was it something else you feared?

“hey… you on the pill?” he lifts his head slightly, his voice still muffled by the material of your dress.

“you’re not fucking me raw, satoru.”

“just wondering… you said you didnt wear a condom with him, so what kept you from getting knocked up?” he wiggles his hand between you and the surface of your table till hes palming your belly.

“you keep bringing toji up a lot, obsessed much?” you tease him, avoiding the answer, gojo pinches your clit.

“please, he wishes. now tell me. iud? implant? injections?” you push him away turning around then pulling him back.

“okay, you clearly had sex ed classes, now shut up and fuck me right” gojo takes your leg and places on his shoulder, you bite your fist to contain your moan, the new position makes easier for him to nudge your clit with his pelvis.

“i could be fucking you better, you know how?” he bites the skin of your leg, not harshly but enough to make you yelp, he smiles, giving a particular hard thrust that makes your eyes roll.

“condom stay on, satoru, i can’t risk getting preg—“ you slap your mouth. satoru stops.

“you’re not… on anything?”

“listen you can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” you cover your face, “i had a pregnancy scare a few years ago so… gosh why am i even telling you this…”

“go on” gojo massages your thigh.

“toji got a vasectomy. birth control wasn’t working for me anymore and it was only a matter of time before— well it doesn't matter. you can see why you have to use it right?” you place your elbows on the table, sitting up enough to see the look on his face, it’s not what your expected to see.

satoru looks like a child that just found out where his parents keep all the sweets. he’s grinning, dick throbbing.

“yeah, i see now” he bends, holding your neck and kissing you, he makes the kiss feel like a ‘thank you for trusting me’ but if this was a cartoon his shadow would have horns and a pointy tail.

all he can think now is exactly how to make you his, he can sweet talk you into allowing him to hit it raw, promising to pull it out, then… whoopsie.

the new discovery gives him a different kind of stamina.

“don’t worry, your secret is safe with me” he kisses your cheek after leaving you breathless.

he plunges in and out, a rhythm that has you seeing stars. gojo craves you so much, he’s quite bothered by all the clothes and the need to keep it down, otherwise he would have torn your dress apart and have you screaming by now.

“fuck— keep doing that” you run your nails on his undercut, gojo mewls and take your other leg, pushing it further to go deeper. he sees the white ring around his cock, getting high on the sigh of it combined with your pussy illuminated by the natural light coming from the window behind him.

he wonders if toji ever fucked you in a classroom like this, then he shakes his head, not allowing the image to form in his mind, instead he focus on you, and how your pretty face contorts as your orgasm approaches once again.

“so fucking pretty” he whispers quietly.

you attempt to lower your legs. feeling it’s gonna be too much.

“nuh-uh keep them here” he pushes back, “so tight” he closes his eyes.

you’re a moaning mess at this point, almost forgetting where you are.

“that’s right, let it go baby” your legs shake as your orgasm hits you, satoru can see the shape of your cursed energy peaking then getting softer.

he fucks you a little more, trying not to think about the condom trapping his dream of knocking you up.

god, you would look so fucking gorgeous carrying his baby, all round up for him to showcase around. he would do anything for you, you wouldn’t have to lift a finger.

if only…

“fuck“ he fucks his load — into the condom unfortunately.

after the initial high goes away he starts to hear his students asking where he went and why he’s taking so long, “wait here, i’ll take you home.”

“you don’t have to” you smile, poking his cheek.

“oh i do, i’m not done with you” he takes your hand from his nape and gives it a kiss before pulling out and throwing that despicable rubber into the bin, making a mental note to empty that bin outside where the evidence of what happened between two teachers is not so easily discoverable.

you sit up adjusting your dress and looking around, “did you see my…”

“nope” gojo leaves the classroom pushing the material of your panties further into his pocket.

gojo had the weekend of his dreams, he convinced you to stay in his place that night and the next one too, he rubbed your sore legs after you came so much you were spasming then made you breakfast, it almost made him believe of a happy ending for the two of you.

a dream that was shattered when, a few days later you returned from a mission and stood by the entrance of the school kissing… toji.

gojo watches the scene from above, a frown on his face.

“yeah i was surprised too” he almost forgot that megumi was with him, “thought she finally created some sense” he confesses.

gojo doesn’t say anything, he watches silently as you tiptoe to kiss toji, the fucker doesn’t even hold you right, he keeps his hand in his pockets and lets you with all the effort.

“meet you in the classroom in five” gojo disappears from megumi’s sight.

on your way to report your mission to yaga you see satoru leaning against a tree. you say his name in a surprised manner, not having prepared what to tell him beforehand.

“listen, i— hm… i thought you should know that toji and i are back, so—”

“did you tell him?” his arms are crossed.

“about… us? of course not.”

“why? don’t you think he should know?” you hear the challenge in his tone.

“no, and you’re not gonna say a word to him either” you step closer to him, trying to look intimidating which can be difficult due to the height difference, “may i remind you that between the three of us there’s a teen boy who would not appreciate the drama.”

“look at you, using fushiguro as an scapegoat” he smiles at the look of anger forming on your features, “it’s fine, i’m just a bit surprised at how quick you were to go back to him, that’s all.”

“let’s be real, satoru. it’s not like you were going to take me on a date or anything” gojo pulls you by your wrist, your body hits his, the sudden proximity has your eyes widening, anyone could see you and take the wrong conclusion. i mean, it wouldn’t be wrong but you didn’t want any conclusions to be taken for that matter.

“this is not going to be the last time and i don’t give a damn if you’re dating him or married or widowed.”

“satoru!” you shout his name in a whisper, immediately rejecting the idea of becoming a widow.

“you can tell toji or not, i don’t mind fighting him” he pushes himself out of the tree and past you. megumi is grown now, of course he still needs a lot of coaching regarding his skills, but emotionally speaking, he’s been a grown up since he was six.

before going to his classroom as promised, he teleports himself to yours, picking up the bouquet he left at your desk then teleporting to the fountain across the campus where he rips the paper that holds the flowers together and lets it all fall into the water.

satoru watches it for a moment, hurt but still decided to go through with his plan.

he wonders what would you tell toji if you got pregnant, maybe you could convince him the child is his, a miracle. then when the kid comes out with white hair and blue eyes you’ll have no choice other than be with him, the father of your child, the man who truly loves you. gojo satoru.

#there’s no part 2 leave me alone #divider by @cafekitsune #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #toji x reader

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arcadia345 · 3 months

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Sextrology notes🥀

MINORS DNI🔞

Not a real astrologer this is just my observations and experiences ‼️

Book a reading❤️

Aries/1st house eros composite- could’ve gotten into the bedroom quicker than expected(or at least tried to), if not then regardless the sex is ROUGH. Lots of sweat and friction burns, bruises from the night before 🥴 “Everyone KNOWS that he f*cks you.” Vibe you can’t hide behind the tension with this one lmao. Could be your first time in a way? I had this with the first yt and the first black girl I’ve been with

Taurus mars/eros- kiss/rub their neck and see how quickly they fold😎 they adore nice smells vmuch bad smells turn us off so bad but if you smelll good I swear we’ll remember you and your sent FOREVER. We also love physical touch we love a good body rub we like all our senses to be aroused. I try to at least keep one hand on my lovers/ vice versa😭#clingy we’re also possessive of our partners to a extent

Gemini/3rd house eros esp in composite have the most fun in bed. Usually a short term relationship doesn’t have to be tho. You two will try new things together sexually. They’re very lighthearted and curious and down with whatever😌 they’ll try anything at least once😏. Mental and oral stimulation is a must here. Definitely prone to sex with more than one person at a time

Eros in Aquarius/cancer,4th/11th combination in composite every time I’ve had this with someone they changed my perspective on life/sex I swear😂 the sex was so mind blowing 🤯 just thinking about it got me stuck. Me and the first girl I did it with have this in composite and omg I did not know I was THAT into girls till she popped up(even tho I’m pans)🥴 my first time feeling sparkles during sex ✨(a man could never 👎)you might feel emotionally vulnerable with them and they might not be your type fr that’s why the sex is so shocking like dang I didn’t know you’d have me feeling like this now I’m stuck. Unforgettable. We also used toys

Cancer eros/mars have a creampie obsession or they lovve boobs ofc, they tend to match the same energy as their partner sexually wise but they can get really really freaky if you ask them nicely 🤭

Leo mars/eros- they love to put on a show in bed, they could be really playful/teasing/loungeful before the act. It’s like they love to tease you until you can’t take it anymore forcing you to make the first move( you need to show them how badly you want them) They look so hot all the faces they make🥵 esp when ur taking a quick break in between and they look so effortlessly good, if the chemistry/sex is good they’ll probably ask if they can record cuz they’re not gonna waste storage on some wack 💩 you can definitely learn something from them

I’ve had Leo in Eros in composite with someone and they’re the only person I needed to take a plan b with after the deed🧍🏽‍♀️

Pisces eros- likes to dive into the taboo side of sex, sex for them could cause them confusion instead of clarity most times. They like to fulfill their fantasies I feel like they have more opportunities to do that than others. The only guy I know with this said he had like 20 bodies??😟 but I’m pretty sure it’s only that high cause they never come back for seconds🤣 perfect example he needs to do some healing before he tries to sleep with someone 🧏🏽‍♀️

Neptune aspects to eros like to be under the influence while having sex. They get really sleepy also

Just like Aquarius eros they like to record/ have cybersex/have a audience

I love how everyone always says scorpios are the freakiest 😂😂😂(they’re up there tho) and us cancers/virgos/taurus just chuckle 🤭

Cancers literally speak to ur soul in the bedroom. We bring out desires that you never knew you had. We’re literally the sign of the motherrr like we really know what’s best for you (us). That’s why they always come back for more🤣🤣 and plz don’t let them have mommy issues they’ll be stuck for life

Virgos😂😂😂😂😂 nobody talks about how the ♍️ symbol looks just like ♏️ (aka they hide their crazy/freaky side very well) they’re adaptable and they aim to please, if you’re satisfied then so are they. And they’re sooo good with their fingers and mouth like Geminis.

Tauruses they need to be satisfied before anything like being fed and taken care of before the deed, but once they see you deserve their time or loyalty they turn into a demon for you😈 drunk and love vibes buss the windows out ur car then have makeup sex yk? But ngl if their underdeveloped they may give ♍️ vibes to their partner instead

Libra Mars/Eros I’ve only had bad experiences with this one but they were sags so plz understand where I’m coming from. They love the IG baddies with the bubble 🍑 and cute aesthetics. They love “plastic barbies”/ dolls . They’re in love with the idea of love. Definitely have more than one person on their roster. They LOVE lingerie and pastel laces esp the men yk they fw it when they don’t take the panties off just pull them to the side🤣Depending on their chart I wouldn’t associate with this eros/mars their standards are unrealistic and problematic :/

Now composite libra in eros is a different experience for me, it feels like a romantic comedy, the head over heels vibes before you even make it to the bed🥰. These two could enjoy being in each other’s presence more than having sex? Like they genuinely enjoy eachothers company sm they kinda skip over that part sometimes lol. Also other people could try to intervene with you two?? In a sense 👀

Also most every Virgo/libra/sag guy (except 3, I think it’s more likely to happen if they’re underdeveloped signs)I’ve fw never liked to give head??? But it was mandatory that they received some???😃 the excuse was always they’re not in the mood/ that’s dirty/ their mouth hurts??💀💀💀 so my 🐱 is too dirty to eat but clean enough to f*ck? but ur 🍆 is clean to do both???🤣🤣🤣 neverrr again this why I’m gay asf now Chile

Sag mars/eros 😂 good luck trying to tie them down. They’re the most promiscuous/adventurous when it comes to sex. They love trying new things really down with whatever! Car sex, or just sex in public in general 😵‍💫 I promise y’all they dgaf. Also these people will change your way of thinking, a catalyst of self development. For me they were always the fboy that made me learn my lesson 😭. They push you to evolve.

Capricorn/10th Eros composite- sex definitely isn’t something you two rush into. Could be more on the reserved side at first. It may be mandatory that you build a deeper connection/commitment before anything sexual happens. It could be a while before anything sexual happens. There could be an age difference here as well. One person could be unexperienced. If you have this with someone and the sex isn’t that great the first time please don’t give up on them 😭 the more you get to understand eachothers bodies the better the sex will be. Bdsm could be a thing here. The type to tie you up/restrain you/ f*ck ur brains out and call you out of ur name but have mini wellness checks in-between. Edging and age play could be a thing. You two could start a OF👀

🍆 indicators

Look at their mars aspects it’s very important. I’ve seen a lot of 🍆s yall so ik what I’m talking about 😂 the biggest one I’ve ever seen had Mars ☌ Jupiter like HUGE🫣😰 harsher aspects to Jupiter is what you want to look for. Now if he has aspects to Saturn but none to Jupiter…… it’s probably on the smaller scale 😭this could also mean good stamina/ hard to climax.

Mars ☌ Uranus surprised me which is on point 😂 very freaky placement uhm their 🍆s look pretty most of the time usually has a curve, definitely gonna hit you with some unusual positions that all feel weirdly good🥴

Mars ☌ Neptune is a less common aspect I’ve seen could have more length than girth but they’re really long. I feel like this is the unsolicited 🍆 pic sender💀 the ones that think everyone needs to see their🍆🙄/ people could fantasize on how they are in bed

🐱 indicators

Honestly idk any I feel like every 🐱 is good if you know how to please it right😌 but the ones that don’t need any assistance is 8th/12th house placements fs esp Jupiter/Neptune/mars. And prominent water signs in the chart

Pisces/12th house Eros in composite ‼️⚠️‼️ definitely not something to take lightly. The energy you two share is sacred. Very spiritual experience I don’t recommend this placement if you’re not aligned on a spiritual level. Lies/hidden motives could be involved. The f*ck you back to sleep placement. Sex so good you both sleep like you work 3 jobs after. I swear he put me into a meditative state while having sex I had to snap out of it 😭 also he was only person to make me orgasim ever to this day our bodies just blended so well together like water💧also he loved my feet?? Bon appetite!

Just experienced this composite again and it’s literally the samee feeling omg the discreetness and blurred lines/taboo feeling, the way our bodies just work so well together ommmg😩 we love to watch eachother? Sexting/stalking placement. And he loves my feet too💀. Sleep is really prominent here.

That’s all for now💋 just wanted to post for my 3year tumblr anniversary 🥹❤️

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asceluffy · 6 months

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OP MEN when they’re in the mood pt. 2

ft. Shanks, Mihawk, Katakuri, King (not proofread)

Shanks

Little did you know that it’s you who gets him in the mood every single time. It’s not just a “I’m feeling horny and I need release” typa thing.

He gets riled up when he watches you put on your favorite lipstick, when you try on your newly bought clothes and show it to him, when you walk around the ship with his shirt on, and when you sit on his lap.

His brain is quick to conjure up different positions he’ll fuck you in when you sit on his lap.

At first, he’d rub your inner thigh ‘absentmindedly,’ and when you shift on his leg, that’s when he’ll go further.

With a mug of beer in his other hand and half his attention on his crewmates, his fingers slowly dance their way up your leg until he stops just when he’s near your panties.

While he chats with his members he’ll toy with the garter of your underwear, tugging it at first before he snakes his hand inside just to feel the skin near your pussy.

And when you squirm, he’ll lean near your ear, face flushed with words a little slurred.

“Once they all get wasted and pass out I’m gonna fuck you on my bed, yeah?”

Mihawk

Mihawk is the type of person to plan things before it happens.

He’d feel the need to feel the warmth of your pussy as it clenches on his thick cock, but when he sees you busy he’d patiently wait until your schedule is free.

He’d set up a romantic candlelit dinner, cooking you steak and pouring you the finest wine in his collection.

He’d let out a small, ‘nonchalant’ smile when you compliment his cooking, all while holding himself back from pining you on the table and taking you then and there.

On the middle of the dinner, he’d casually say, “Let’s have sex.” which will lead you to choke on your food.

“After dinner,” You’d say, and in his mind he’s already celebrating.

When you two finish, he’ll ask you to take his hand and lead you to the bedroom, gasping when you see rose petals scattered inside and lovely music playing from his vintage record player.

Katakuri

He’s mostly shy around you, being his first girlfriend and all.

Some people may think that he acts coldly towards you, but it’s only you who truly knows why he acts that way.

You’d know he’s in the mood when he acts cranky and touchy.

He’ll wrap his arm around your waist, fiddle with your fingers, compare hand sizes, and glare at anyone who dares speak to you or even breathe your way.

But when he’s really in the mood, his subtle touches will level up.

He’d rub your inner thighs, fondle your breasts, lightly squeeze your butt.

You’d notice how his breath gets heavier and how his pupils dilate when you get near him.

You’ll notice him staring at you the whole day without saying a damn word, and when you notice these signs you’ll chuckle and pull him into a passionate kiss.

King

King is a busy man, working under Kaido means he has to do things almost 24/7.

The only time you’d spend with him is when’s sent on expeditions, which rarely happens because he’s always glued beside Kaido.

Or, when he just finished a battle.

While his whole system is still pumping with adrenaline from a recent battle, the only reason for him to calm down is to sink into your tight cunt.

When he sees you after he just won a fight, all his pent up energy will shoot straight down his dick.

He’s a man of few words, and once he has you pinned against the wall, you know what will happen next.

“Fuck, I haven’t seen you in a long time. Open your pretty legs for me so I can show you how much I missed you.”

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece smut #shanks x reader #mihawk x reader #king one piece #king the wildfire #king the wildfire x reader #king x reader #katakuri x reader #charlotte katakuri #akagami no shanks #dracule mihawk

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thelikesoffinn · 7 months

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„Astarion ending as the Vampire Ascendant is the correct ending for him, because it is what he wants.”

That is a claim I’ve been seeing pop up more and more often these days. And I think it’s both a very bold and a very odd claim to make.

But first things first: Hello, I’m a licensed social worker! So far, I’ve worked with children, refugees and youths with behavioural issues stemming from bullying and or abuse.

Please be aware that I will be mentioning different kinds of abuse, coping mechanisms, and victim/abuser relationships. If any of this is difficult for you, don’t force yourself through it. My jabbering about a traumatised vampire is not worth your wellbeing, not ever.

I will, however try to stick to Astarion and not use other examples. If, in any case, I do use a non-Astarion example, I’ll add a warning beforehand so that you can skip the part. And I’ll make it clear what will be discussed in the next bit, so that you have a chance to skip it entirely.

This is an effort to make this as accessible as possible for everyone that wants to indulge on a mad woman’s rambling – and I know there’s a few people that like this sort of stuff!

And, uh, there's obviously spoilers for all three acts. Serious spoilers, even.

Before I can get into the whole ‘why Astarion didn’t really want to ascend,’ we need to understand him a little more. And to understand this pretty boy’s brain, we first need to understand the gist of what we’re talking about when we throw around the word ‘abuse.’

“Abuse” is when someone is treated with cruelty, violence, or neglect – often to bad effect – on a regular basis. Repetitively. Check’s out for Astarion, I’d say, but we all knew that already. I mean, if one thing was obvious, it was this.

1. Astarions Abuse

Next we need to look at what kind of abuse Astarion faced over his long years of torment, seeing as different types of abuse will have different effects on the victim.

Not that that is anything we have to worry about with him – Astarion won the abuse lottery, to put it bluntly. In a horrible game of fate, he got everything. He himself indirectly mentions all the types of abuse he faced, albeit never using the correct terms.

The first we properly notice – fitting, seeing as it is often the most obvious form of abuse – is the physical abuse. Astarions scars are probably the biggest tell Larian could shove down our throats, only underlined by Astarion’s tale about the night itself. About how Cazador ‘misspelled something’ every time he flinched or screamed and had to do ‘many corrections. On top of this, Cazador locked Astarion up for months on end and tortured him – or had him tortured – on a regular basis both as a rite and as a punishment.

Next up, we have the fact that Astarion was forced to basically prostitute himself repeatedly. This is what we call sexual exploitation.

“I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my Master.” – Act 2

Two hundred years is a long time, filled with great many people. Now, we don’t know how many of those people actually tapped into the sexual exploitation and how many he could just lure back with other means, but the fact that it happened a lot is undeniable.

Next we have a form of abuse that we often disregard in adults: Neglect. It sounds odd, I know, saying that a fully grown adult was neglected. They can care for themselves, can they not?

Well. Yes and no.

Adult neglect is proceeded by the condition that one adult has to lean on another adult to fulfil their needs for whatever reason. This could be anything, from disability to income-based issues.

Seeing as Astarion had absolutely nothing, while Cazador had everything, we can assume this was the case. Cazador had the house, the money, the power. Astarion owns but one pair of clothes, assumedly, that he has fixes over and over again. Fair to say, that’s pretty neglectful. (And it’s one more reason to shower the guy in pretty armour and camp clothes. Go ham, people.)

Last we have the form of abuse we actually get to witness later in the game – emotional abuse.

Once again, it’s undeniable that this happened. Especially since we’re all seeing it in the flesh upon meeting Cazador in his crypt.

“Have you no respect for yourself?”

“I strove for perfection in all things. Even those as imperfect as you.”

“A pity you amounted to so little, despite my efforts.”

“A pathetic little boy who never amounted to anything.”

All Act 3, Crypt

Here we have just a few examples of things Cazador throws in his face. It’s like reading a textbook on emotional abuse, this one (and it’s definitely a reason to throw hands).

Blaming the victim, keeping their sense of self and their self-worth as tiny as possible to make them cower and flee. A true classic.

This pretty much shows that Astarion suffered all forms of abuse we commonly see and it is implied – once again by Astarion himself – that at least a few of those instances were ritualistic.

Now, what does that mean exactly? Well, I fear I need to use a real example here, so please skip the next paragraph.

Ritualistic doesn’t refer to a proper ritual – it can, but that’s mostly a thing for those in a cult. So, we’re not necessarily talking about a ‘Vampire Ascendent Ritual’. A husband, beating his wife every evening after his third bottle of beer is also called ritual abuse. It happens regularly. It is part of a routine. Both parties know what will happen.

I can’t find the exact quote, so I’m working of my memory here, but at one point he said that when Cazador invited him to eat and he said yes, he would be served a putrid rat. If he said no, he’d be beaten.

The way it was phrased made it clear that it happened more than once and that Astarion clearly knew what would happen. So, this can be classified as ritualistic abuse.

2. A Note on Conditioning and Compliance

By default, abuse victims are conditioned to behave a certain way or in a certain fashion. This is a natural response to avoid further abuse.

In Astarion, the thing we see most often is his inherent need to please. Not literally, he doesn’t mind being an arsehole. But he initially feels the need to follow Tav’s orders, even if they go against his own wishes.

This can be clearly seen in the conversation with Araj Oblodra. Astarion very clearly doesn’t want to bite her. He doesn’t. But he will do so, if Tav tells him to. This behaviour is not conscious – he doesn’t know why he does it, he just does – and it is to be expected. This is how he kept himself save for two centuries, so of course he will fall back into his usual pattern when the pressure is high.

This goes hand in hand with the fact that most abuse victims don’t fight. Maybe initially, but not after long term abuse. Especially not after two fucking centuries.

This is true in Astarion – offered by his ‘siblings’ during act 3 and unhappily acquiesced by the man himself. Astarion stopped fighting and, once again implied, cowered, and did as he was told in order to survive.

3. The Astarion we know and love

Obviously, all that abuse does have an impact on our vampire boyfriend. He shows various common signs of abuse and just like with the forms of abuse, Astarion raked every coping mechanism he could find. (Not really, but it feels like it.) It’s also important to note that nearly all of the following things happen inwardly. Astarion is not one of the victims, that tries to rationalise and minimise the actions of his abuser. Quite the opposite, actually.

I’ll note from the beginning, that rationalisation will not be covered in this bit, as most examples will be important later on. But he definitely does it.

One of his biggest skills is to hide every ounce of fear or hurt behind sarcasm and snarky theatrics. He doesn’t seem to hide his anger much, though, so that’s something! Our boy is cool with anger, not so much with being afraid.

“Ahahaha, now that you mention it….I might have done…that.” – Act 3, regarding the Gur children

“The thing that will decide my fate forever more? Yeees, it’s been on my miiiind. Why?” – Act 2, regarding the Ritual

And there’s many more instances that prove this. Honestly, half his dialogue is sarcasm, so it would really be too long to get into and we all know what I mean, right? We have alltalked to the guy before. It’s obvious that he’s sarcastic to a fault.

This goes hand in hand with his penchant for defensiveness. I would personally state that he’s simply not really good with guilt. When talking about fear, he usually just opts for sarcasm or avoids the topic completely, but guilt especially has his defences going up. This is also when he’s most likely to shove all the blame off to Cazador.

“Don’t look at me like that. Cazadors orders.” – Act 3, Crypt

“I just did what I had to!” – Act 3, Crypt

And don’t get me wrong, he does that anyway. And with good reason. Astarion didn’t have a choice for the most part, but he’s still easy to shove things off.

This kind of connects to his penchant for denial.

Astarion doesn’t really like to talk about most things. He firmly believes he is an ‘action’ sort of person that just does instead of plans, which invertedly just means he’s great at pushing the thinking stuff away. He also likes to get rid of stuff, so that he doesn’t need to face it ever again.

“I never want to see these little scraps of misery again. The world doesn’t need to know my shame.” – Act 3, about the children

And yes, this partly rings true. He’s probably ashamed and doesn’t want anyone to know what he’s done. But it’s also very clear that he himself simply doesn’t want to face his own actions, something that is just underlined by his extreme willingness to red rid of the other spawn.

As mentioned by Astarion himself, he’s big on manipulation. I mean, I don’t think there is much explaining necessary. The guy is willing to do a whole lot in order to get what he desires – which mostly revolves around safety and survival, to be honest – and he’s not really shy about it either. And that’s despite the fact that he doesn’t really like intimacy – especially in form of sex.

It’s not a secret that Astarion is not big on sex and anything surrounding it. This goes far enough for people to consider him either ace or ace coded.

A claim that, personally, I’m not super in line with.

Now, it’s not entirely wrong and if this is your head cannon I’m surely not going to stand in your way – but on a larger spectrum, I think he’s more traumatised than ace. And while those go hand in hand sometimes, it’s a bit difficult for the ace community if you attach traumatised characters to them because it can fuel a whole lot of stigma that is honestly neither needed nor wanted. But I digress!

If it comes to his own behaviour, he’s great at minimising his mistakes. Honestly, he’s a master of minimisation. A very obvious and famous example would be:

“’Killed’ feels like a…strong word. Not many corpses have your vigour.” – Act 1, after killing Tav

Astarion. You literally sucked poor Tav dry and left them flopping around, cold, and dead. Killed is exactly the right word and we all know it.

“Quite the deviation from my usual routine. Capture, not lure. I didn’t bring them in with sweet rolls or anything.” – Act 3, Gur Children

This is another attempt at minimising what he did, if a bit less obvious because at this point there isn’t much he can say. But at least he didn’t sexualise the gur children, right? They’re still spawn but whoo, at least that didn’t happen.

The next point would be dissociation, which is extremely common in abuse victims – of all forms of abuse.

Astarion himself mentioned certain moments that could be classified as dissociation over course of the story, which is probably the coping mechanism I personally expected the most.

The pale elf has a penchant for violence, but he’s not entirely shameless or abhorrently vile, which gets clearer the more the story progresses. So, two hundred years of forced prostitution, torture and doing whatever other horrible things? Yeah, I’d be more surprised if he didn’t dissociate.

Examples of that would be:

“A moment of disgust to push myself through and then I could’ve carried on, just like before.” – Act 2, after Araj

“I felt nothing the moment I handed them over.” – Act 3, Gur Children

“Did you enjoy it? It felt like you weren’t fully there.” – Act 1, Tav after Sex

The latter is generally more of an assumption than actual prove, but with context it does make sense.

The last common sign of abuse we find in our boyfriend would be his low self-worth. It’s a consistent trait that stays over the course of all three acts, noticeable in many different conversations.

We can see it in his reaction to wanting to break up before finishing his story. We can see it in his genuine surprise when Tav picks him over any of the other characters. We see it in his insecurity whenever Tav asks to sleep with another character. He’s fine with it, but he still worries their decision to sleep with someone else is based on something he did.

It eases up ever so slightly after Cazador is dead, but even then he’s still struggling which is once again perfectly illustrated if you try to break up with him.

“Oh shit. I- Did I do something wrong?”

That is the first thing he asks and I think it speaks for itself. He genuinely doesn’t believe he has much to offer and for Astarion, it’s likely that Astarion will always be the problem.

4. "Oh, I tried them all none of them answered.”

Another big thing that’s important to note, is that Astarion was never saved. No one came to save him from Cazador. There was no darling boy on a white steed riding into that castle to rescue him and princess carry him away. Not even the gods answered his desperate calls.

So, he never received any kindness or luck. To him, the world seems as cruel and horrid as before because he didn’t have the chance to experience goodness in two centuries.

But worse than that, he didn’t even get to save himself. Astarion didn’t stand up to Cazador, he didn’t run out of his own might.

He was beaten to near death and ‘saved’ by Cazador, who would become his abuser.

He tried to save someone and, in turn, was locked up and starved for an entire year.

He was abducted by mind flayers, i.e., saved from Cazador, only to end up tadpoled and on the cusp of getting a fancy, squiddy beard.

Anything that’s good, any kindness, any selfless action…it all came with a ginormous price tag.

5. Over the Course of the Story

Astarions behaviour changes a whole lot over the course of three acts – which is important once we talk about his quests climax – so let’s review what we’re working with!

Act 1 Astarion is guarded as fuck. The man has walls around him that are so high, even the gods can touch them.

A lot of his behaviour in act 1 revolves around staying save and staying liked. He lies, manipulates, and flutters his lashes in order to get what he wants and needs. Instead of asking, like Wyll, Karlach and Gale do, Astarion uses all he has to offer to get by. He is still very much in survival mode and tries to weasel his way through an unfamiliar situation with familiar methods.

On top of that, and most notably, he’s absolutely not fond of kindness or selflessness.

#I saved a child and now my boyfriend is mad

Here, we are most likely to gain disapproval for doing the decent thing – unless you sent him outside for a minute whenever you’re being a good person.

And I’d assume that this is because of two things.

First: The very traditional ‘Why not me?’

As I mentioned before, Astarion wasn’t saved. He hasn’t experienced kindness in a very long time so seeing that the world is literally filled with kind people is hurtful. Why didn’t anyone save him? Why was he left to his own devices for so long? Why should he care about others when it’s so clear that no one ever cared about him? No, dead to all of them. If he didn’t get it, neither will they.

“And what am I owed? What about the injustices I suffered? Am I not entitled to anything?” – Act 3, Crypt

“I was in the prime of my life when I was turned. Everything was taken from me too.” – Act 3, Crypt

And secondly is the fact that, as I mentioned, goodness always has a price. And it’s one most people won’t be willing to pay. That’s how his life has been, so why would theirs be different?

This is precisely why Astarion may disapprove of kind actions, but he mostly neither approves nor disapproves if Tav asks for payment. That’s just how the world works.

Once you venture out into act 2, after getting to know him a whole lot more, he starts to mellow a bit – if only towards Tav.

“He’s afraid, so afraid, of everyone but you, who she should fear the most.” – Sceleritas about Astarion

His approval is a lot easier to gain – or at least keep! – and he tends to approve of some more proper actions. He doesn’t throw a fit if you promise to find Mol, he approves of Tav being kind to His Majesty, of saving Aylin and he even approves of Durge apologising to Isobel after threatening to rip her to pieces.

He's slowly starting to open up, allowing Tav to see some parts of him he previously kept hidden. He accepts their offer to help, if hesitantly and, by god, the man starts experimenting with boundaries.

The social worker in me is shedding tears at this. It’s my favourite thing to see in my clients and it’s no different here. Yay to saying no!

Of course, it’s still a bit hit or miss. If Tav urges him to bite Araj, for example, he will only to later notice that he didn’t fucking have to. He recognises this on his own and he calls Tav out on it. Just like he calls them out on not helping him with his Orthon quest.

Good job, chap. Good fucking job.

And the growth-train won’t stop going even as we reach act 3.

In act 3, there’s not many things he disapproves as of right now – those he does, mostly have to do with how Tav treats him and not with anyone else. In fact, he’s more likely to approve good behaviour now, like giving Yenna food or money.

And yes, we need to consider that this could simply be because he gets used to Tav’s behaviour and just learns to roll with it. But it’s also highly likely that he notices that there’s truly good people around. At least one person. And that person is not only good, no, they’re in the process of helping him break free once and for all.

They’re helping him save himself.

By act 3, he has learned that he can absolutely say his piece where Tav is concerned and he’s more likely to disagree with them on certain things. It’s seen during a lot of small dialogue that he’s no longer terribly afraid to be honest with them, willing to listen and talk and he’ll ask for help if he needs it.

“I can do this. But I need your help.” – Act 3, Crypt

Something that can be viewed both positively and negatively is that he’s definitely loyal to a fault. He will stick by Tav’s side, no matter what.

“I really hoped we could avoid being pawns for a dark god, but here we are, I suppose. I’m with you, my dear, wherever this might lead.” – Act 3, After Jaheira confronts durge

As I said, this can be both positive and negative. On one count, it’s a recipe for disaster, seeing as he could be waltzing into a really bad situation for Tav alone.

But on the other side…this is a man who only cared about himself because that is the only person he could afford to care about. He needed to survive. He now has enough room to breathe and the capacity to care for someone else and I’d be inclined to count that as a good thing.

6. The Crypt

All the progress he made in act 2 and 3 is nearly tossed into the wind as soon as the crew enters Cazadors castle.

It’s not an immediate thing, of course.

At first, Astarion tries to stay light and simple and he hides behind flippant tones and relaxed faces. The way he recounts this is almost comically disinterested and the façade is actually quite good.

It’s start’s cracking after we meet Godie, one of the people who tortured him on more than one account, but he mostly manages to remain as upbeat as one can honestly expect for the first half of the journey.

All that, however, is done for the very moment we meet Sebastian. His mask not only slips, no, it full on shatters and there’s none of his apparent lightness left.

Which, of course it does.

The man is suddenly faced with years and years and years of victims. Innocent, unlucky people he lured back to his master over two centuries. People he liked, people he pitied.

“It’s sickening, seeing them again.”

It’s basically a room filled with guilt, exclusively for Astarion. And, as we mentioned before…Astarion is not great with guilt.

The guilt, however, is not where it ends.

No, he’s also faced with reflections of his own past. The spawn pose as reminders of what he did, sure, but also as reminders of what he was.

Weak, desperate, hungry.

There’s an abundance of images of his worst moments, reflected back at him in the thousands. It’s probably like staring into a funhouse mirror, but instead of seeing yourself in a funky way he just sees everything he so desperately doesn’t want to be.

“It should be [who I am]! I don’t want to be like them. They’re pathetic, horrible…”

He’s forcefully made aware of how darn weak he can be, which claws at all the wounds he’s barely had time to close. Something, he of course won’t admit if asked.

“THEY DO NOT [remind me of myself]. That weakness in me is dead, IT’S DEAD. I have a higher purpose.”

The high pressure of the moment brings out all of his act 1 traits in but a few moments. You can pretty much watch how he starts to shut down mid conversation, one of his old walls snapping back into place to remove himself from the situation.

Thing is though, walls usually become a bit brittle after disuse. Especially when talking to a person you don’t usually want to wall out.

Or, in his case, when talking to Tav.

After meeting Sebastian, Astarion shows extreme reactions to Tav nudging any of his weak spots. His reaction varies on whatever choice you make, but it ranges from aggression to defensiveness, to denial and even to downright begging Tav.

“Don’t hate me. I just did what I had to. I swear I did what I had to.”

This probably the most shocking out of all of them, since that is not something we got to witness before. The begging is likely a mixture of intense fear of losing Tav, his low self-esteem and pre-Tav behaviour, since we can assume that Cazador made him beg more than once.

Another old coat he puts back on would also be the least surprising of them all.

Manipulation.

He falls right back into it, using Tav’s affection to get what he want if we trigger the right action.

“If they die and I ascend, I won't have to rely on the parasite to walk in the sun. I'll be free. Truly completely free. Isn't that what you want?”

This, to me, was probably the biggest tell that Astarion was back in survival mode. He’s panicking, for fucks sake, and who can blame the guy? He’s back. He’s about to face down his abuser.

Of course he’s fucking panicking.

Panic leads to an increased craving for safety and, in his case, power. This is why he clings to Tav, why he begs them to love him still. And this is why he jumps head first into the rationalisation pool.

“I will need to sacrifice them all if I want to perform the ritual. - [You can save them.] – What’s the point? They're as good as dead! I thought they were dead. If they are unleashed, they will cause incredible carnage. […] They must die. Better they serve a purpose.”

Another textbook example.

They must die anyway. They’re basically dead. No need to save them now. They’re dangerous, I’m doing the right thing by sacrificing them. I already thought they were dead, so it’s not changing anything for me. They’re a lost cause and I deserve all this power. I deserve it, because I suffered and nothing will change if they die.

So, seeing as we already spoke about his usual behaviour in act 3 – behaviour he showed after we allowed him to breathe and be himself for a while – I think we can fairly easily conclude he’s not thinking straight.

Astarion is right back in survival mode, where all that matters is he himself. If it weren’t for the seven thousand spawns, he might have moved through this more gracefully, but seeing those tipped the scales and Astarion is absolutely losing it.

Remember that for the last section, per favore.

7. The Ascension

“Astarion wants to ascend and Tav manipulates him into doing what they want.”

That is basically the essence of what people often claim and I can’t help but shake my head at such a blatant disregard of everything he has become. This is completely ignoring the change and growth he has gone through over the course of their journey.

Astarion wants to be free. He wants to be safe. That does not mean he wants to ascend.

And the claim that Tav manipulates him into doing anything is even more baffling. We are all aware that Tav is not manipulative by nature, yes? That is entirely on you. You decide who your Tav is.

And then let’s remember: Astarion is panicked. He’s afraid and he’s not thinking straight. His abuser is on his knees before him and he still feels so weak. And there’s seven thousand spawns that need handling.

Astarion is very much not okay right now.

In fact, reading his thoughts just proves this theory.

“You can see the fear in his eyes but also the hunger. The thick smell of blood in the air and the promise of power being so close is intoxicating to him. All he can see is the power of the ritual and the freedom that power brings. The freedom to do anything. To be anything.”

Tav, however, has none of those problems. They can actually see beyond the current situation and they are fully aware what the consequences are. Astarion is not. As we previously established, Astarion is a doer. Not a thinker. He didn’t think this through, not at all.

The only thing Tav is doing – the persuasion roll – is reminding him of the very real consequences he is facing. The consequences he hasn’t thought about before.

"I know you think this will set you free, but it won't. This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador."

And that is the kindest thing Tav could do in this situation. They’re not bodily dragging him away from Cazador. They’re not even telling him to not do it. They’re just offering him the truth. He can do with that information whatever he desires.

“Astarion cries when he doesn’t ascend, that just shows that it was the wrong choice.”

A hare-brained point that I thankfully have only seen once so far.

That crying? That is healthy crying.

That is him, crumbling under the stress that suddenly dissipates. That is him mourning two hundred years of torment. That’s him letting out feelings he hasn’t been able to for centuries.

And, for the love of god, try to put yourself in his shoes.

Two hundred years of torment, ended in but a moment.

Astarion was abused and tortured for so long, afraid for so long only to see his tormentor die just like that.

Cazador died within a moment and all Astarion needed was a darn blade. Of course he fucking cries.

Seeing how pathetic a being the very core of your life’s misery actually is hurts. It hurts like hell because not only are you finally free – free! – no, you’re faced with the fact that this pile of nothing, the thing that’s bleeding out right in front of you…this was what tortured for so long.

This thing hurt you so much. That guy took everything from you, everything you once were, and broke it again and again and again over years.

You were so scared of this thing.

And yet he has the gall and the gumption to die just like that.

It was so easy.

And yet you suffered for so long.

8. Evil Playthrough?

An evil playthrough is really a different setting altogether.

All of this, as you can probably tell, is really only applicable on a good playthrough. Realistically speaking. I’m not sure how the game mechanics handle it.

On an evil path, Astarion never really gets to experience kindness and goodness. Evil Tav will just prove him right in his believe that the world is a vile and cold place, meaning that he realistically would be more inclined to actually want to ascend.

9. Final Conclusion

I think all of this should be enough to make it clear that no, ascended Astarion is not the best ending for the guy. In fact, it is probably the worst. Because it’s just him, running away. He’s running into a lonely and cold state of being, where cruelty and power lord over everything else and he’s running because he’s terrified of being hurt again. He’s running despite desperately wanting to stop running.

“I'll spend the rest of my life running watching the shadows, never feeling safe…no, this has to happen. Here and now.”

And, the worst part is: Nothing about Astarion is left after he ascends. Even his tone of speaking gradually changes, his theatrics fading. He’s slowly losing himself, until there’s nothing but an evil caricature left.

So, in the end, ascension will have proven him right.

That version of him is dead.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate #baldurs gate #bg3 #astarion #the dark urge #tav #astarion romance #astarion ancunin #astarion and tav #bg3 act 1 #bg3 act 2 #bg3 act 3 #act 3 #act 2 #act 1 #araj oblodra

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