#dad!tangerine x fem!reader

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: You never told Tangerine he has a daughter in the hopes of never seeing him again.

Genre: Angst (happy ending)

Warnings: swearing, single mom!reader, allusions to sex, pregnancy, kinda wanted to give Tan a real name for this story's sake but I couldn't decide on one (🙃) so let's all pretend Tangerine is an appropriate first name end not make it weird? kay? love you guys :)

~ honestly inspired by all of @little-miss-dilf-lover's dad!Tan content ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

Family is important to Tangerine. You've known this ever since you'd met him—which is why when you lay in the hospital bed, beads of sweat dampening your hairline and your mother asked you if you'd changed your mind and wanted someone to call him, prompting you to shake your head, it broke your heart almost more than it had the night he'd left. 

How could you keep her from him?

How could he leave you like he did? 

So, you raised your daughter on your own with the hopes that you'd never run into Tangerine or his brother. By Cerise's fourth birthday, there were still no signs of them and as much as you ignored how her brown curls reminded you of him and how she had his mannerisms, you couldn't deny their similarity anymore. 

"Darling, you can't have candy now, it's almost supper," you reprimand when Cerise reaches for a candy bar as you pay for your groceries and the older lady at the counter chuckles.

Cerise looks at you with an annoyed pout as she crosses her arms. You ruffle her hair, "I'm sorry, Cece," you say and kiss her forehead behind her bangs.

You're too busy with the cashier to see Cerise slip down from the cart and wander off. When you finish paying and turn to hand her a box of raspberries, your heart sinks. "Cece?" you call, turning to the old woman who doesn't know how to help you.

Your heart thumps loudly, your skin clammy and cold as you abandon your groceries and call out again, "Cerise!"

The store isn't that huge so in theory, Cerise shouldn't be far and you just pray she didn't wander off into the open road. You feel hopeless until you turn into the fruit aisle.

Your breath leaves you when you see Cerise. "Oh thank God!" you exclaim and run to her, kneeling on your knees and pulling her into your arms. You hold her to you and caress her pigtails. "You can't scare Mummy like that, okay?" you whisper into her small shoulder. 

"The man said he would buy me candy," Cerise declares, holding onto your neck. 

"What?!" you exclaim, finally looking up at the man who'd been talking to your daughter. You're prepared to find some creepy old man but instead, a familiar face is staring down at you.

He's dressed in dressy clothes, his hair slicked neatly, and he has a thick mustache—he didn't have a mustache the last time you saw him, but that had been four years ago.  

This has to be a joke. "Y/n?" Tangerine says your name so smoothly and the sound causes a shiver down your spine. You stand, taking Cerise into your arms as she holds onto you.

"Tangerine," you whisper, staring into his striking blue eyes and you realize with a heavy heart that Cerise's are truly a carbon copy of his.

Tangerine looks at the child in your arms and clears his throat, "I- she ran over here and started talking to me. She wanted candy and I said I could buy 'er a chocolate bar if she'd help me find 'er parents—are ya—?" 

"Yeah, she's mine," you say, voice strained. "I- thank you for the offer but I told her no to candy."

Tangerine looks embarrassed and he rubs his nape as he says, "Y-yeah, sorry." He looks at Cerise more closely as she turns her head to him and smiles. "How old is she?" he asks and your heart pounds. 

Tangerine is smart, and you wonder if he sees through you already. You wonder if he'll know she's his daughter. 

You feel your cheeks warm. "She just turned four." You can't lie to him. You've never been able to lie directly to his face. He's always known you too well for that. Tangerine's face falls for a moment and you can almost see the panic. He blinks and then his expression turns blank as if a switch had been turned on. 

You always hated it when he did that.

"Ah, right, well, it'was pleasant seeing ya, darlin'," he says, adjusting his cuffs, and just like that he turns away without a second glance and he disappears from your life—again.

Your heart feels like someone had just stomped on it a thousand times and you want to cry. You hold Cerise tighter as she plays with your hair. 

He didn't even ask for her name. 

* * *

"You didn't even ask for her name?" Lemon asks with disbelief, watching from the small couch in their hotel room as his brother completely loses his mind.

Tangerine doesn't look at Lemon and his voice is strained, "Why would I do that?" 

"'Cause she's probably your kid, dimwit," Lemon sounds unamused. 

"Bull," Tangerine throws the knife he'd been using to cut an apple into the small sink and turns around, angrily popping a slice into his mouth, "Absolute bull, Lem, she's not mine. I mean—Y/n was definitely with other guys after me—like I was with other girls—" his sentence dies. 

"Yeah, 'cause you're a slut, and the only reason ya shagged those other birds that soon was because you missed 'er and wouldn't admit it. Ya know she isn't like that. She's better than ya," Lemon says honestly.

"And she was madly in love with ya. Isn't that why we left? Because she loved ya and you loved her? 'Cause ya didn't want her mixed up in our life? Do'you really think she'd fuck some other bastard that soon? No. Tangerine, that kid is yours."

Tangerine pinches the bridge of his nose, "No. She would have told me."

"Would she?" Lemon raises an eyebrow, "You left 'er."

Tangerine is annoyed at Lemon because he's right. He isn't stupid, the little girl with you had looked too much like him not to be his daughter, and that realization alone makes him want to throw up. 

He cannot be a father—not when he couldn't even be a good lover. You and your baby girl deserved so much better than him. 

"Listen, it's your life, but will ya ever forgive yourself if ya don't at least find out for sure?" Lemon adds, looking at his brother with sympathy. He shrugs. "If anything, bruv, help 'er with money. Ya'know we have loads extra and t'is the least you could do for 'er."

Tangerine knows Lemon's right—at least on the money. He wants you and your baby to live comfortably. 

"Yeah," is all he answers. 

* * *

You feel tired gross and dirty as Cerise runs around your small suburban house outside of the city, refusing to put on her socks. You haven't showered in three terribly long days and your hair is a mess.

"Cece, no, come here," you say, desperately trying to keep your phone pressed to your ear to continue your conversation.

"No mum, I know that and I've been looking around but I can't afford any private pre-schools," you say, catching Cerise mid-run and scooping her into your arms, "I turned out just fine without a fancy pre-school, didn't I?"

Your mother continues to chat your ear off you hear the doorbell and you position Cerise on your hip, ignoring her cries as you try and find her little feet. "Mum, someone's at the door, I'll call you later, okay," you say, walking and opening the door.

You're thankful that your mother hung up because otherwise, she would have heard your gasp as you see who your visitor is.

"Tangerine," you say, holding Cerise closer as you put your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. 

"Hi, darlin'," Tangerine says. He's holding a basket filled with cookies, candies, and flowers. Your favorites. "Can I come in?" he asks.

You're star-struck as you nod and move aside so he can come inside. You shut the door behind him and set Cerise down, who immediately runs back to the living room where her toys are scattered around. Tangerine can't hide his smile as he watches her. "How did you find me?" you ask quietly, which causes him to turn around and hand you the basket. 

You take it as he says, "I have my ways," he cracks an all-too-familiar smile that makes your heart flutter. 

"Cryptic," you tease, your sentence dying, you look down and then try to tame your hair, "Sorry—I look like such a mess," you whisper.

Tangerine smiles kindly, "Nonsense, you look beautiful."

You strain a smile and focus on the real question, "Tangerine, why are you here?"

He walks closer and it takes everything in you not to stay put and let his warmth envelope you.

God, you missed him.

Instead, you back away and stare into his eyes. "Y/n, is she mine?" he whispers, his voice cracking. 

You frown. "No," you say, and then your voice softens, "I mean yes, she has your DNA but she's not yours. You don't even know her name. You don't know her. She's mine. I'm her mother and you're just some guy I fucked," your voice sounds breathless and you inhale as you shut your mouth. You feel dizzy as you see Tangerine's hurt look.

"I deserved that," he says calmly after a moment and runs a hand in his hair, "But, was I really just someone you fucked?" he asks, unfamiliar insecurities creeping into his voice. 

You lean against your wall, exhausted, "I- no- you weren't but you left," you say.

"I had to leave—ya don't understand—"

"Yeah, because you never let me understand," you whisper and look up at him with a look that leaves him completely heartbroken.

He sniffs and looks away and down the hall where he sees Cerise run up to you and envelop her tiny hands around your knees. She looks up at him, her eyes round and her brown curly hair framing her forehead, and she smiles. 

Tangerine knees feel weak as she grins at him and he knows that he would kill to make so no one ever wipes that smile from his daughter's face. He would rather die. He looks up at you and you're running a hand in Cerise's hair— "Maybe you should leave—"

"What's her name?" he interrupts and looks at you for permission to let him kneel and speak to her. 

You nod, unable to deny him that. 

"Hi, angel, what's your name?" he says and crouches in front of her, smiling as he looks at her. She's adorable. She looks like you. Tangerine's heart melts. 

"Cece," she says, holding you tighter and looking up at you. 

"Cerise," you say as Tangerine stands again, "It means Cherry in French, but everyone just calls her Cece because she can't pronounce her full name correctly yet."

Tangerine smiles, "It's a very pretty name," he looks you over and then clears his throat, "Would you mind if I–stay a little?" 

You look at him sternly and frown, "I was gonna take her to the playground. She has so much energy this afternoon," you whisper and Cerise takes this as a cue to sprint back into the living room and make more chaos. 

"One cuppa?" Tangerine almost pleads again, his tone hopeful. He looks genuinely sincere. "I want to know all about her—and you," he pauses and then hesitates, "I did miss you, darlin'."

Your heart clenches and you run a hand in your hair again, murmuring a curse under your breath. You missed him too.

"One cup," you say and hold out your arm to take his suit jacket, "on the condition we drink it at Cerise's play-table. I promised her I'd play with her."

Tangerine nods and sheds his suit jacket and his shoes. He looks around your house at all the pictures you have of your friends, family, and of course Cerise. His heart aches and he realizes that he's missing from all these pictures. 

"Black tea?" you call from the kitchen and Tangerine smiles. You remember that it's his favorite. 

"Yes, luv, thank you."

So, Tangerine finds himself sitting on one of Cerise's small chairs as she sits in front of him, pouring him some invisible tea in the tiny cup on the small table in front of him. His knees bang on the table and Cerise looks at him, her tiny nose scrunched in disapproval.

Tangerine's heart flutters. She looks so much like you. "Sorry, angel," he whispers and steadies the table with his hand. 

Cerise hums and continues to pour air into the cups. 

You walk back in, holding a mug of tea for Tangerine and one for you and Cerise to share. You can't help the smile that forms on your lips when you see Tangerine sitting with your daughter.

You sit on the ground next to them and hand him his cup. He shakes his head, causing you to put the mug down near his arm, and he picks up the small cup and pretends to sip the non-existent contents for Cerise. 

The little girl's smile widens when he says, "Mmm, yum," and puts the cup down. Your heart melts when you hear Cerise's happy laugh and she says, 

"There's no tea in there, silly," she tilts her head, "it's all pretend."

Tangerine looks embarrassed and you feel bad so you put your hand on his arm, silently thanking him for the kind gesture. "She's a smart kid—she just has a big imagination," you explain softly, smiling at Tangerine kindly. 

You hate how familiar this feels but oh god do you love it too.

"She's smart, just like you," Tangerine breathes out, drinking his real tea this time and he puts his hand on the one you have on his forearm. "I'm sorry," he says sincerely, his voice small and as you stare into his eyes, time stands frozen. 

You strain a small smile and answer honestly. "We'll have plenty of time for sorries," you whisper and are revived by the instant nod Tangerine does.

Yes, we will, he says with his eyes, and although he wouldn't say it aloud, he's determined not to leave you again.

"For now, let's have a tea party," you tickle Cerise's tummy with your other hand.

Cerise giggles and Tangerine knows he's done for.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Much like I did dad!carmy, I’m having thoughts… baby fever is wild aint it

𝐃𝐚𝐝!𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞

Dad! Tangerine who is shocked when you tell him your pregnant, he doesn’t quite know how to react or what to do.

Dad! Tangerine who despite being scared out of his mind, stays with you the whole time, and tries his best anyways.

Dad! Tangerine who’s not always home because of his work, but he tries every single day to get done early for you.

Dad!tangerine who is defensive the second the babies born, holding her with the biggest heart eyes ever.

(He’s such a girl dad idc)

He’s making sure your okay more than anything though, not letting you do anything when you both get home.

“Tan, I’m fine I swear-“ you mumbled and was about to get up when he stopped you quickly.

“Lay back down, love. I got her.” He mumbled, tired but gets up nonetheless.

Dad! Tangerine who stands up, cradling your guys daughter, shushing at her. His eyes begging for sleep, but he knew you were more tired than him, and he felt bad for not being around too much.

Dad!Tangerine who sighs in relief when he finally puts her down again, kissing her forehead and making his way back into the bedroom.

The corners of his mouth twitching up when he sees you sleeping peacefully again.

Dad!tangerine who will do anything for his daughter, trying even harder now to conceal his identity when working

Dad!tangerine who gets lemon to babysit when you’re extra tired, and you need a break.

Dad!Tangerine who takes you out on a date when that does happen, you both talking and getting away from the world

And when your daughter is older, he teaches her to protect herself, how to use a gun, and how to fight in general.

Dad!Tangerine who smiles when she first called him “daddy” you smiling along, clapping at her.

Dad!Tangerine who is overprotective of both you and his daughter, making sure that no one comes near you

he’d be the best dad. •_•

[star-writes-sometimes]

blue christmas

dad!tangerine x mum!reader

words: 1.8k

cw: angst to fluff, tangerine is a huge softie

a/n: readers nickname is cherry and they call their daughter peach idk if its a nickname or her real name you decide 

---—---

you were going to kill him.

tangerine had said that he would be gone for two days and that he would be completely safe. one last job before the holidays. 

the job ended up being more difficult than anticipated so now here he was on his way back two days later than he originally said, covered with cuts and bruises. lemon was in the passenger seat of the car with his left hand bandaged up.

“she’s going to kill you.”

“believe me i am well aware.” tangerine gripped the steering wheel tighter making his knuckles turn white. 

it was close to midnight when they finally pulled up at the house. some lights were still on inside, so he knew you were still awake. lemon reached back with his good arm to grab his bag. 

tangerine got out first and walked up to the door with lemon following slightly behind him. he unlocked the door and carefully entered taking off his coat, hanging it on the rack and slipping off his shoes. lemon copied his actions to the best of his ability with one arm and dropped his bag on the floor.

the pair entered the living room and the sight that greets them makes tangerine’s guilt double. you were sitting on the couch with your daughter asleep on your lap, her face illuminated by the television playing the end of nightmare before christmas. she was bundled inside a throw blanket decorated with citrus fruits that lemon got her for her birthday.

when he entered the room you simply glanced in his direction not even bothering to look at him properly before you turned your attention back to the movie ignoring him completely. 

“hi, love.” he tried, looking between his sleeping daughter holding onto your christmas sweater and you running your fingers through her hair. lemon stood beside him shifting around anxiously.

you continued to ignore them instead focusing on the girl snoring lightly on your lap. lemon and tangerine glanced at each. lemon made a motion for tangerine to walk over so he carefully walked towards you until he got in front of you.

he glanced back at lemon who just shrugged. tangerine knelt down and smiled at his daughter before trying to meet your eye. you refused to look at him keeping your gaze firmly on your daughter.

“i’m sorry.” tangerine said softly in that voice he only used with you. you stopped ranking your fingers through your daughter’s hair, “i’m so so sorry darling.”

you finally looked up at him and immediately started frowning at the cuts on his cheek and hairline. “what happened?” you asked.

he smiled, “job went to shit.” he looked down at the sleeping girl, “i missed you both.” 

“she missed you.” you stroked the curve of her nose, “but don’t wake her, she hasn’t been sleeping well.” you grabbed a pillow from the middle of the couch and slowly slid her off your lap and onto the pillow instead. you stood up and brushed past him heading straight for the kitchen where you kept the first aid equipment for when the boys came home injured.

“hey cherry.” lemon said quietly giving a small wave with his injured hand. 

you didn’t respond and instead started pulling out the equipment, “who’s got what injuries?”

“i uh fractured my thumb.” lemon said sheepishly. you motioned for him to sit on one of the kitchen barstools at your kitchen island. you inspected the shoddy bandaging job someone (probably tangerine) did and started unwrapping it to see his thumb properly.

“yeah it’s definitely fractured.” you grabbed some of the heavier duty bandages and started wrapping his thumb properly, “any other injuries i should know about?”

“no.” lemon watched you finish look after his thumb, “thank you.”

“of course.” you’d always take care of them no matter how much they pissed you off. you looked up at lemon and saw how exhausted he looked, “go get some sleep.”

he nods slightly, “yeah goodnight cherry.”

“‘night lemon.” you throw away the old used bandages. you could feel tangerine behind you watching without having to turn around, “what about you?”

“i’m sorry.” 

“yeah, you said that. sit.” you said firmly. he listened and sat in the same seat lemon did. “what about you?” you hand came up to the cut on his cheek and traced over it lightly.

“just the cuts and some bruised ribs.” he knew better than to lie as much as he didn’t want to worry you, “i’m fine sweetheart.”

you pulled out some alcohol wipes and small band aids and started cleaning the cuts on his face. “you said you’d be gone two days.”

“i know-”

“you said you’d be safe.”

“i know love-”

“what was i meant to say to peach?”

he flinched slightly and you couldn’t tell if it was your words or the alcohol wipes you were rubbing over the cut on his hairline. he glanced over to peach, still asleep on the couch. “i’m so sorry.”

you went back to ignoring him and instead started to unbutton his vest and shirt to get a look at his ribs. once his shirt was open you saw the red and purple bruises on his left side and winced slightly at the sight. you moved to the freezer to grab an ice pack. you wrapped it in a tea towel and gave it to him wordlessly to hold on to his ribs while you moved to grab him a glass of water and painkillers.

once he had taken the medication and was firmly holding the ice pack to his ribs you finally looked him in the eyes. “you promised.”

“i know i know i’m so sorry love.” he apologised so sincerely you almost forgave him, but you weren’t giving up that easily.

“i was worried. so was peach, she didn’t sleep at all last night and neither could i.” you started tearing up, the stress of the last few days had finally caught up, “you could’ve been dead for all i knew-” tangerine cut you off by standing up and pulling you into a hug.

you wrapped your arms around his neck and held him close, being careful around his ribs. he held you tightly and you two just stood together. “i missed you so much.”

“i missed you too.” you leaned back slightly and reached up to hold his face, “no more jobs for a month.”

“three months,” he whispered back and leaned down to kiss you.

the kiss started off soft but slowly turned deep and passionate. he kissed you like he hadn’t seen you in year - it felt like he hadn’t. his hands slipped down from your waist to your hips pulling you impossibly closer to him and deepening the kiss.

you pulled away much too soon in tangerines opinion. 

“are you okay? no other injuries?” worry filled your eyes as you scanned him from head to toe.

“stop doing that, i’m fine, i’m back with you.” he smiled.

you leant up to peck his lips again before moving to pack away the first aid equipment. he watched you closely seemingly making up for not seeing you for half week. as soon as everything was packed away you reached up to his neck and pulled him into another kiss.

“can we go to bed? please?” 

he didn’t respond, he just picked you up, holding you onto his good side and started walking towards your shared bedroom, ignoring your small protests. once he reached the foot of your bed, he put you down gently onto the bed and started taking off his pants before joining you.

he laid down next to you and pulled you close, he held you tightly and ran his arm up and down your side while he placed small kisses on your forehead, “i’m sorry.”

“if you apologise one more time i’ll bruise the rest of your ribs.” you looked up at him with a playful glare.

“okay love, i’ll stop.” he grinned into your hair, knowing you had forgiven him at least for now.

— 

tangerine woke up first and gazed down at your sleeping figure. he shifted so one of his arms was free to brush stray hairs out of your face. he moved his hand to stroke your cheek and smiled at your soft snores.

his focus was interrupted by small footsteps entering the room. 

“dad?” peach asked, she had the blanket she slept with wrapped around her shoulders.

“hi baby.” he sits up slightly and smiles at his daughter.

at the conformation that he was really there and she wasn’t imagining it she dropped her blanket and ran to climb up the bed and launch herself into his arms. “you’re back.”

“yeah, sweetheart i’m here.” he sat up completely and pulled her into his lap and hugged her close. she held onto him by his neck and squeezed tightly. they sat like that for a few moments before peach mumbled something into his neck that he couldn’t make out. “what’s that dear?”

“are you leaving again?” she asked quietly and just like that all the guilt he felt last night came rushing back.

“no, peach i’m not leaving. i promise.” he kissed her cheek and adjusted her in his lap, so her side was against his chest and she was facing you. “i missed you and mum so much.”

“we missed you too.” peach lent into his chest.

you had started to wake up and caught the end of their conversation and were grinning up at your family. “good morning.”

they both turned to look at you. “good morning mum.” peach chirped happily.

you sat up and tangerine threw his free arm over your shoulder and pulled you close, “good morning darling.” he gave you a quick kiss knowing how grossed out peach got at your affection, “can i apologise one more time without the risk of dv?”

you roll your eyes, “fine. last one though.”

he kissed your temple, “i am so sorry, to both of you and i will spend the rest of holidays making it up to you.” he kissed peach on the cheek, “what do you want to do today?”

“we are making cookies today.” peach said firmly.

“really?” tangerine raised an eyebrow.

“yeah, it’s christmas eve we have to make cookies for santa.”

“can i make you both breakfast first?”

she dramatically tapped her chin in thought, “hmmm okay but you have to make chocolate chip pancakes.”

“of course anything for my princess.” he kissed her hand, “and of course my queen.” he turned and kissed your hand too then stood up taking peach with him and started carrying her out of the room, “okay pancakes anything else?”

“fruit.” peach replied.

tangerine snorted at that, “fruit? like peaches, cherries, tangerines and lemons.”

“yeah, the best fruits!” she squealed.

they disappeared down the hallway and out of earshot, presumably still discussing breakfast, leaving you to relax in bed for a few minutes longer.

you could kill him next christmas instead.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

ONE YEAR LATER

tangerine x fem!reader

word count. 912

synopsis. one year ago today, you and tangerine celebrated the birth of your daughter, mandarin - mandy for short. this special day also marks the anniversary of when you unintentionally saved his life - calling him home from his mission in tokyo.

warnings. fluff fluff fluff. all the fluff !!

note. posting this as a little gift for my 1 year writing anniversary💌 I don’t usually like or read baby/ pregnancy fics, so I have no idea why I wrote this😭 wanted it to be fluffy so everyone can enjoy xo

For you, today was a celebration of life - a day of reflecting on your greatest loves. Not only does today mark your daughter's very first birthday, but it's also the day when you unintentionally saved Tangerine's life.

Way back when, Tangerine was apprehensive about leaving your heavily pregnant self while he was away on a mission - all on your own without any help or care. At the time, your due date was a mere couple weeks away, so you reassured him constantly, saying that she wouldn't be out for a little while - and how you have friends and family who can step in if need be. Besides, back then, you were looking forward to having the bed to yourself, getting to sleep through those very few hours you got a night without your husband's snoring disrupting you. 

When you rang him up last year in the middle of the night -for you- you were crying and rambling about the pain of contractions, beckoning him back home to you and the baby. He never once questioned a thing, diverting the taxi driver to the airport instead of the train station.

He would never admit it, but he felt completely useless, only being able to encourage and help over a measly phone call, listening to you cry and wail without being able to touch or hold you. He stayed on the phone with you until he boarded the plane, praising you and telling you how he'll be with you in no time. 

That's why today was so important to you - to you both. It's the day your love returned home in one piece while simultaneously being blessed with another slightly cuter and smaller love.

As first-time parents, Mandy's birthday was a big deal - though she wouldn't remember it, you would. It's the kind of day you both want to remember: everything down to the second - every spilt drink, every smile, every word, just every little thing about the day.

Tangerine was out fetching some last-minute things for the party while you stayed back with your daughter, your little girl resting on your hip as you finished setting the table. It wasn't a big celebration with lots of people you feel obligated to invite, just a small, casual event with those you're closest with: Lemon on Tan's side and a few relatives on yours.

"Oh, I know," you sweetly coo, entertaining Mandy when she blabbers - diverting her fidgeting fingers away from the hem of your top. "He's taking forever, hm? I only asked him to get candles." 

You look down at your sweet little girl, her toothy grin mirroring your wide one. It was times like this when she looked like the spitting image of her father - light eyes lit up warm, all doe-like, gazing at you with a smile.

You make a playful gasp at Mandy when you hear the keys jingle in the front door, shaking her excitedly and rushing to meet Tan in the foyer. 

He walks in, a smile quickly spreading when he lands on you both - Mandy hooked on your hip, her grin just as bright as yours. 

"There's my girls," he says warmly, briefly kissing you on the cheek, then his daughter on hers. "Sorry, traffic was utter shit," he whispers to you, lingering a kiss on your lips.

He walks past you both, nodding for you to follow along, leading you to the kitchen island. He places a shopping bag on the counter and begins to rummage through it, searching for what seems to be surprises from the shop.

"Alright, alright. I know you said just cake candles, but," Tan proposes, drawing out the 'but' with a sly smile. "I couldn't not get something for the birthday girl," focusing his attention on Mandy, who is making grabby hands at him. "Here you go, poppet."

Tangerine picks up a bouquet of baby pink flowers from the bag and pulls out a singular peony, handing it to his daughter. His eyes soften as he looks over Mandy, watching how she displays her signature toothy smile, clearly pleased with her gift - even though it had absolutely no use to a one-year-old. The thought is what counts - it does to you anyway.

"Don't think I forgot about you," he softly smiles, his moustache twitching upwards. He hands you the original bouquet and an envelope. "I wrote it in the car. All I had was an Ikea pencil," he chuckles, suddenly bashful.

Your smile widens, nose scrunching, and eyes creasing - clearly appreciative of the sweet sentiment. Exchanging Mandy for the gifts, you open the card and read through his note, watching how he slipped through the kitchen doors, seemingly embarrassed.

"I know you do," you warmly call out to him from the other room, gesturing to his worded thanks for his appreciation towards you. "I appreciate you too, you know," your words quieten as you trail after him into the living room - getting closer to them. You plop onto the sofa beside him, sitting snuggly at his side with Mandy atop his lap. You slip your hand into his larger one, resting your head on his shoulder. "Like a whole lot."

And as you wait for your very few guests to arrive, you take the time to remember this moment - to enjoy it. You and your little family huddled on the couch, celebrating the day that reunited you all. 

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

[nkogneatho]

—𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

—jjk mlist —main mlist —thirsts

🖇₊˚ෆ Fics

It can be more than just a bet- Satosugu x fem!reader

The two sides of my stepdad

Two can play at this game- stepbro!gojo

Blueberry lips on my cherry

Bought it for my daddy- stepdad!gojo

This love came back to me- ex-husband!gojo

What gojo satoru wants, he gets

It's raining milk- dilf!toru

Yume ka?- gojo? more like deadjo💀

Put a little love on me- fuck buddies to lovers

Tangerine

🖇₊˚ෆ Drabbles

Burnt Pancakes

Breeding

Gojo with Freckles

Dad Satoru

Gojo lactation kink

Cockwarming satoru

Raspberry Kisses

Plumber!Gojo

Camboy!Gojo

Betrayal

Widower!Gojo

King!Gojo

Flawed Mosaic

Silver Fox!Gojo

[gojozaiacc]

TEMPTATION, buggy the clown.

la!!buggy the clown x fem!!marine!!reader summary: the daughter of Axe-Hand Morgan decided to go rogue finally, pairing up with the straw hat crew, only for them to get captured instantly by a wanted pirate captain. tw!! swearing, violence, weapon violence. notes: this is sort of a sneak peak to a full on book I'm writing on Buggy... ;)

A groan fell past y/n's lips as she was shaken awake by her captain in the straw hat. She was starting to wonder if this had been the right choice.

Then again she would rather stab herself in the eye than go back to her brute of a father. She squinted at the boy who grinned when seeing her starting to gain consciousness.

"Your awake!!"he exclaimed which had her groaning, pinching the bridge of her nose. She nodded and stood up, a few inches shorter than the box they were being held in.

"We need a plan."Nami tried to reason with Zoro who was banging against the walls angrily. That was when y/n noticed that her sword was gone from around her waist as well as her bag of throwing stars.

"I don't need a plan. I just need to beat the hell out of every marine I see."Zoro snapped. y/n shook her head. --"This isn't the Marines. My dad wouldn't lock us in a box."She informed them, her head still reeling from the gas she had inhaled earlier before losing consciousness.

Luffy nodded in response. --"Before I got knocked out I saw a Jolly Rogger."He informed the group, pausing for dramatic effect. --"We've been captured by pirates."He finished, almost excited by the prospect.

Nami seemed to freeze beside y/n earning herself a concerned look by the blonde. --"That's much better news..."She mumbled out sarcastically.

y/n only shook her head. --"I mean at least pirates don't have training like marines do."She tried to cheer the orange-haired girl up. Zoro nodded.

"They're right. Pirates are easier to kill."Zoro grumbled. y/n nodded in response and though she didn't have her usual weapons she was ready to fight with her fists.

"Shanks used to say not every situation can solved with violence," Luffy spoke in a wise tone. Zoro didn't seem to share the wise attitude as he squinted at his captain, --"Who the hell is Shanks?"He asked the boy who only grinned in response.

"we don't need to fight." he simply responded, still grinning. --"I can talk to them. Pirate to pirate." y/n couldn't help but smile at his optimism.

Though he was sometimes a little too optimistic for her liking, she still couldn't help but feel affection for the boy in the straw hat. Nami squinted at the boy.

"that won't work."She broke it to him harshly. y/n folded her arms but kept quiet. Luffy's facial expression doesn't change as he turned his gaze towards her. --"Why not?"

Nami gave him an obvious look. --"To start, you're not a pirate."She told him. y/n bit her tongue to disagree with her, figuring it not best to argue in their situation. --"Yes I am."Luffy responded.

Nami shook her head. --"No you're just some stretchy guy in a tattered hat.", Luffy didn't seem to be taking anything that Nami was saying to him to heart. --"I'm a different kind of pirate."He only responded.

A distant look appeared on Nami's face as she stared almost hatefully at Luffy. --"Pirates are pirates. There's only one kind."she spat. y/n eyed her, sympathy in her gaze despite knowing nothing about Nami's past. The tangerine-haired woman had obviously had a bad experience with pirates.

The roof of the box suddenly lifted and y/n tilted her head back, squinting at the bright lights beaming down on her. Seconds later one of the walls lifted allowing the group to step out from their temporary cage.

Folding her arms behind her back, she glanced around as numerous different performances happened around them. They were in a circus tent by the looks of things.

She eyed the performers with a sort of fascination. Growing up the daughter of Axe-Hand Morgan didn't allow her the opportunity to get out much so this level of excitement around her was a completely foreign feeling.

Her eyes drifted to where the sounds of clapping was from. There sat a crowd of people who appeared to be enjoying themselves but if you looked closer you could see fear in their eyes. y/n swallowed uneasily as the crowd laughed fakely, obviously fearful for their lives.

Luffy, who hadn't spotted the crowd yet, started to clap for the performers which had Nami whacking his hands.

y/n started glancing around the room, looking for any ways to escape or to attack. She couldn't find many and it didn't help much that they were completely surrounded.

"no, no, no, no..."A voice suddenly sounded through all of the excitement and the group all turned their attention to the source. Out walked the figure of a man. --"Stop!! it's all wrong."He called out, and the crowd instantly went silent which led y/n to believe this was the man in charge.

"The spotlight was late. You completely missed my entrance," he informed from the shadows, staring up at the spotlight man. y/n watched the dark figure gesture to the spotlight and then to himself.

And then the spotlight moved to land on him and y/n's heart stopped.

She knew him. Buggy the clown. He was one of the pirates who had been eluding her father for years. He was worth 15,000,000 berries. He was also not exactly her father's biggest fan for obvious reasons.

Now she knew what to expect. Not that, that was a good thing. Buggy walked closer to one of his crewmates. --"And where, oh where..."He trailed off as he got closer to a man who wore a funny-looking costume, --"Was the dancing...lion?", the man flinched back, shaking with fear.

y/n could feel a few of Buggy's crew members eyeing her and she shrank back a little under their gazes. She was aware that she had a bit of a reputation to her name among pirates so she had expected to encounter some trouble when she decided to go with Luffy, she just hadn't expected it to happen so soon.

"Hey, I know you!!"Luffy suddenly called out and y/n snapped her head to him, begging him with her eyes to shut up. He nodded to y/n who stared bug-eyed at him. --"We saw you're wanted poster in Shells Town."He informed the clown.

Luffy kept a grin on his face, clearly impressed with Buggy's whole performance. --"You're the clown guy!!"He said more to himself as he tried to remember Buggy's actual name. --"Uhh, Binky, right?"He spoke, clicking his fingers as though he had gotten his name right.

y/n sighed into her palm, --"Buggy."She and the clown pirate corrected the young pirate at the same time. Buggy dropped down from where he stood, glancing towards y/n for a second before looking back to Luffy.

"Buggy...the flashy fool." he spoke as he got closer and closer to the group only adding to y/n's unease. --"Buggy the...genius jester."he finished, gesturing to himself with a flare of cockiness to him.

y/n almost rolled her eyes at the confidence.

Luffy looked even more impressed now, widening his eyes along with Buggy's words. --"Wow.."He drew out with no sarcasm. --"You have a lot of names." he finished with a nod.

He glanced around at Buggy's crew. --"I bet everyone in the East Blue knows who you are." y/n cringed at his poor choice of words, scrunching her nose up as the crowd gasps in shock.

Though she had never met the clown in person, y/n was fully aware that he was incredibly sensitive about his nose due to it's unusual size.

Buggy continued to smile but it wavered a little between anger and annoyance. --"What did you just say?"He asked, his voice now having a dry tone to it.

y/n tried to shake Luffy's arm in a way that would tell him to not respond to the pirate's question. However, Luffy only glanced down at her, confused. --"Just that everybody knows who you are."He said again and she scrunched her face up.

Something switches in Buggy instantly as he runs at Luffy, grabbing the boy by his face out of anger, and squishing his cheeks together. --"NOSE?!"He exclaims in a shout.

A hand suddenly gripped y/n by her shoulder and her eyes widened as she was yanked backwards, something instantly being pressed to her neck.

She hissed a little as the sharp objects digs into her skin, another sharp object being pressed into her back just to be sure she didn't try something to retaliate. --"Are you making fun of my nose?"Buggy asked the boy.

Luffy denied the accusation, curious about the clone's nose. --"But now that you mention it...is that thing for real?"He asked, lifting a hand to poke the clown's nose. Buggy slapped the hand away with an irritated look on his face.

"They have a marine with them, captain." a voice spoke directly behind y/n leading her to believe they were the one with the sword pressed to her neck.

Buggy glanced towards her, his eyes lighting up as he clicks his gloved fingers together. --"Axe-hand's daughter!!"He exclaims with a wide grin. She pursed her lips together, her stomach dropping at the knowledge that Buggy knew who she was.

He flapped his hands almost excitedly to his crew member, moving away from Luffy. --"Bring her here."He instructed the pirate holding y/n hostage with his swords.

Deciding it was best to not try and fight the guy who had a sword pressed against her neck and another one against her neck, she didn't put up a fight as she is walked over to the pirate captain.

Buggy gestured for his crew member to release her and he did without hesitation. Buggy walked to her side and swung an arm around the back of her shoulders mockingly so her side was pressed into his.

"I gotta say, toots.."He trailed off, lifting one of his gloved hands to pat her cheek teasingly. --"Big fan of your work." he told her with a grin. His hand grazed her arm as he glanced down at her, leveling his face with hers as he grinned.

"I mean, you see my crew?"He asked her in a hushed voice, pointing a finger to some of his crew members. She followed his pointed finger, glancing to a few of the angry faces that stared back at her.

"did you know that you've murdered a few of their friends?"Buggy chuckled into her ear like the fact was funny, his breath fanning the side of her face. She went pale as Buggy patted her arm.

"Small world, right?"He laughs as he whispers in her ear. She swallowed but didn't move away from his grip. She didn't have any weapons so what would be the point?

She swallows and turns her head to look at him. Her gaze met his coldly. He challenged her gaze with a wide grin on his face.

She wasn't used to that. Every pirate she had ever stared down gave in easily. She had that dark look to her eyes, the look of inescapable doom. But not Buggy. He grinned in her face and that irritated her to another level.

Why isn't he scared of her like the others?

With one last grin, her slapped a hand to her shoulder and glanced to one of his crewmembers.

"You."He pointed to him and the associate flinches at the attention, clearly terrified of his captain. --"Take this one back to my cabin."he informs him.

y/n's eyes widen in fraction, surprise appearing on her face as the pirate walks over to grab ahold of her. --"Put her in the thing!!"Buggy called out as she is ripped from his grip and tugged away away.

She could hear Luffy start to speak up, asking what they were doing with her but his voice is soon drowned out as she was now alone with the pirate. He was gripping her arm tight enough she was sure there would be a big bruise on her forearm.

Soon enough, he pushed open a door and shoves her harshly inside. She stumbles inside, staggering to her knees as she collapses into the side of what she assumed was Buggy's desk.

She groans and lifts a hand to clutch her side as the pirate walks towards her, lifting his foot to kick her in the stomach. She grunted and staggered back as he clutched her by her hair.

"Don't recognise me?"He spat at her, levelling his face with hers. She groaned in distaste as he snapped her head back so she was looking at him.

"Not exactly."She mumbled. A look of anger passed the man's face as he swung his fist at her face. Her head bounced back as she groaned, blood trickling down her nostril.

The pirate got close to her face. --"If Captain Buggy didn't need you I would kill you."he hisses, his disgusting breath fanning her face. She crinkled her nose and glared at him.

His face got even closer to hers. --"You murdered my best friend."He spoke through clenched teeth and she raised an eyebrow. --"You're going to have to be more specific than that."She spoke in a mocking tone which only earned her another punch to the face.

With a grunt, she pulled herself up to lean against Buggy's desk, spitting out some blood. Her jaw is suddenly roughly grabbed again by the crook pirate.

"You cut him down where he stood, forced him to swallow broken glass."He hissed. Her eyes go distant for a moment as her eyebrows raised, the memory coming back.

"The teenager..."She trailed off. She could remember this, it had happened when she was 14 and training underneath her father.

Axe-Hand had forced his daughter to go after one of the pirates that had been staying at a local tavern. Her original plan was to just threaten him and arrest him but that wasn't good enough to her father.

He needed to know that she was loyal to the marines.

And so, he forced her to attack, using his influence over her. She was desperate to please her father, desperate for any sort of attention from him considering he had never given her or her brother any sort of attention.

And so she did as she was told. It disturbed her how naturally she fell into the role, forcing the boy who was maybe only 2 years older than her to do things such as swallow broken glass and cut out his own tongue because, in her father's words, pirates don't deserve the privilege to speak.

Her eyes flickered back to the man in front of her, recognition appearing in her eyes. She did remember him. The boy she had killed was a young upstarter, looking to become a pirate captain, the man had been his first mate. She could vaguely remember his name being mentioned to her when they first went to the tavern to arrest them.

Thorpe Cliffton.

Thorpe still had a grip on her face, tears sprouting his eyes as memories seemed to flush in. y/n felt bad, she really did, but she didn't take too kindly to the blood pooling in her mouth.

"He was only 16."Thorpe snapped at her, almost happy that y/n seemed to remember. He wanted her to go through that mental torture.

An almost dead look appears in y/n's face as she stared. --"Yeah? well, he was a stupid 16-year-old."She snapped at him. --"You both knew fine well that Shells Town was swarming with Marines at that time, if it hadn't been me it would have been someone else."She hissed.

Thorphe's eye twitched a little as he shoved her back to the ground and stalked off to the corner of the room. y/n took the opportunity to spit out some of the blood that had been pooling in her mouth.

The freak returned with a chain. With little regard for how this might hurt, he reached down and snatched her by her wrists. She didn't fight him as he dragged her over to a hook hanging down in the centre of the room.

She would have fought him had she had her sword.

He wrapped some of the long chain around the hook tightly before chaining her wrists together so she chained to the hook. With a murderous look at her, he walked over to the door and moved a piece of fabric to lift two buttons.

He pressed the top button and the hook started to lift, lifting her wrists with it. Soon enough she was hanging by her wrists, having to stand on her toes so she could still touch the ground.

The discomfort was begging to appear on her features but she didn't show any reaction to Thorpe. She didn't want to look weak. He stalked over to her and leaned in threateningly.

"The second Captain Buggy gives the word. You're dead."he informs her.

She didn't respond, watching him leave the room, locking the door behind him.

With him gone, she let the discomfort appear on her face as she hissed through her teeth. She was starting to feel the effects of some of the punches he had thrown at her.

Tilting her head back, she rattled her chained hands in an attempt to break free but it was no use. He had chained her up pretty well. She had no option but to just wait and hope that Luffy manages to find some way to get out of this creepy clown's tent.

With a sigh, she glanced around the captain's cabin. Buggy's cabin was exactly what you'd expect from someone like him. It was messy, papers were scattered across his desk, and drawers were ajar.

She also took notice of a dart board on his door, a cutout picture of her dad from a newspaper was in the centre with a colourful dagger stabbed through it.

That almost made her chuckle.

She took notice that he had his own wanted poster on the wall and almost scoffed at the obvious cockiness. Other than the wanted poster, the walls were covered in newspaper cutouts of his circus act- a newspaper article that she had no doubt the journalist was forced to write.

There were a few circus tricks scattered around the floor but nothing that she could pick up with her feet and help her escape. Everything was just messy in the cabbin.

Rolling her neck impatiently, she glanced to the side just as the lock in the door was turned and in walks the clown himself. He grins at the sight of her.

"I see you're past has already come back to bite you in the ass."He snickers, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him as he glanced in amusement at her bloodied nose.

She only eyed him, the discomfort instantly going from her face when she saw him. She was now about to look weak in front of this dumb fucking clown.

He reaches into the inside of his coat, pulling out a switchblade. Though he didn't appear to be trying to act threatening towards her.

"Alright, sweets."he started out, taking a few steps towards her. --"Huge fan, by the way. The way you forced that one loser pirate to slice off his own eyelids?"He kissed the tips of his gloved fingers mockingly, making a 'mwah' noise.

She remembered that one. When she was 17, a pirate tried to force himself onto her in the streets at night. So she went on the attack and forced him to slice off his own eyelids as punishment.

She didn't feel bad about that one.

Buggy grinned and pointed a finger at her. --"you're a real damaged soul."He chuckled, he eyes her up and down. --"And no longer working for daddy dearest?"He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

She didn't respond but gave him a look that said 'what do you think you stupid clown?'. He reached to the side into a fruit bowl sitting on a table, grabbing an apple, he tossed it up and down in his hand.

"And y'know, I collect damaged souls."He told her as he started to carve off some of the apple with his switchblade. --"I collect the deranged, the freaks of nature."He continued, raising his eyebrows as his blue eyes stare at hers. --"Make them part of my act."He hums.

"And you.."He points a finger to her with a giddy chuckle, throwing some of the carved apple between his red lips. --"belong in my act."He tells her, taking a step closer so his face was a mere two feet away from hers.

"How about I unchain you and you ditch these nobodies and join my crew, huh?"He questioned, lifting a hand to grip her chin. His grip was nowhere near as tight as Thorpe's had been, it was soft as he tried to sway her.

She continued to stare at him, her gaze sharp and unwavering. --"How about you unchain me and I'll cut your nose down to your liking?"She questioned innocently, remembering how he flipped off the handle earlier when Luffy brought up his nose.

An amused and forced grin appears on Buggy's face. He clicks his tongue and waggles his finger, stalking toward her so she had to look up at him. His hand still clutching her chin.

"Since I'm such a big fan of yours, I'm gonna take that response as a maybe."He grinned. She didn't understand this guy. Why hadn't the nose mention pissed him off?

He dropped her chin and took a step back to observe her. --"Where's my map?"He asked, folding his arms. She raised an eyebrow.

"Explain to me why i would tell you."She questioned. --"Because if you don't tell me I'll make sure the stretchy kid does."He simply replies, watching her face harden a little protectively.

"I don't know where it is."She told. It technically wasn't a lie, she hadn't been awake when Luffy had informed the group that he had swallowed the map. She was as clueless as Buggy was.

Buggy eyed her, irritation flashing in his blue eyes when not seeing any tells that she was lying. He popped another piece of the apple into his mouth, the muscles in his jaw flexing in annoyance.

They are silent for a moment, challenging the other's gaze. He then suddenly pointed at her with a grin. --"y'know we've actually met before."He announces, walking closer to her with that stupid fucking grin on his face.

A look appeared on y/n's face as she raised an eyebrow. --"I think I would remember you."She told him dryly and he shook his head. --"When we were both young pups..."He trailed off with a small grin, her continued to eat his apple.

"We met at the execution of good ol' Gold Rogers."He said, walking closer to her. --"You were 10."He spoke almost as though he was trying to remind himself. He started to wave the switchblade as he rambled.

"You were avoiding your dad in the crowd and wound up standing with me. Called my nose 'cool'."He grinned with his words, his gaze a little distant as he recalled the day.

And as he reminded her, she nodded, and the memory returned. Sure the interaction was 20 years ago but you'd think she would remember a kid with a round red nose and blue hair.

"huh..."She mumbled to herself, her wrists starting to ache. Buggy rested a hand on his chest, his crazed grin still spread across his lips. --"That comment stayed with me for a long time, blondie."

She almost snickered in response, raising a lazy eyebrow. --"Good to know I made such an impact."She mumbled sarcastically. Buggy laughed in response to her tone, lifting a hand to pat her cheek mockingly.

"Join my crew."He whispered to her, his face close to hers. Squinting, she tilted her head to the side against her raised forearm. --"No."She whispered back in a taunting tone.

She expected him to blow up but he didn't. Whether she wanted it or not, Buggy felt some sort of fucked up connection to her. He dropped his head in mock disappointment, his gaze on the floor as he sighed dramatically.

"What could those nobodies possibly have to offer you, anyway?"He questioned, lifting his head. His breath fanned against her face as he leaned in closer to her.

He raised a mocking eyebrow. --"A family?"He questioned sarcastically. Family is a touchy subject for her. She craned her neck back a little as his face got closer to hers.

"I could be your family."He tells her, his nose nearly touching hers. Her heart thudded a little louder against her ribcage at the closeness but she didn't back down. A hum rumbled up her throat as she eyed him, her brown eyes piercing.

"How about you unchain me and I consider it?"She tried and Buggy let out an amused laugh in response. --"Nice try, short stuff."He replied.

He took a step back, still peeling off some of his apple. --"Now I-"He paused to lift up a chunk of the apple he had cut off. --"-am going to go question our stretchy friend. I need my map back."He spoke, still grinning.

He then lifted the chunk of apple up to her lips, using his gloved fingers to pry open her mouth and slip the fruit between her lips. He clamped her jaw back shut, his eyes darting across her face mockingly.

The sweet taste of the fruit was welcomed against her tongue as she moved her jaw to chew on the apple, not breaking eye contact with the clown.

He continued to grin, his face still incredibly close to hers. --"I'll leave you alone to go over your options."He whispered, flashing a toothy grin.

Her eyes followed him as he left the room, shutting the door behind him. A near groan left her lips when she heard the sound of the door being locked again.

"shit."

She was going to be here for a while.

[loveshotzz]

There’s a place for me

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Chapter 1/?

Summary: On the run for wrongful murder charges, Eddie finds himself stopping in a sleepy ocean side town far enough from Hawkins where he can lay low for awhile. Running from the people that want him dead, his only hope is that his past doesn’t catch up to him. Especially when he meets the pretty eye’d waitress up the street.

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: slow burn, angst (Eddie hates himself for running) eventual smut, strangers to lovers. My blog is 18 plus.

A/N: this concept was sent as a request by my irl friend @elthreetimes and as soon as I read it, there was no way it could just be a one shot. It needed to be a series. I feel so lucky that you trust me to bring this story to life, and I hope you enjoy this. Also I couldn’t have done this without my hellfire crew @myobmaya @boomhauer @subparwritersuperbreblogger @sweetsweetjellybean for bouncing ideas and characterizations with me. I seriously couldn’t have written this with out you guys. This is the most ambitious story I’ve ever tried, so here goes nothing. Also bonus points for anyone who guess’s who which character Ron is based off of.

*comments, likes, and reblogs would mean so much if you enjoy my work 💘

For days it felt like all Eddie did was drive, the passage of state signs was his only measurement of time. The hours blending together like the lines on the highway, tangerine skies bleeding vermillion the colors remind him of Chrissy eyes after they exploded inside her head. The beauty of it all being taken away as the image of her crumpled body replays over and over in his mind. With no destination he was driving on auto pilot, only deciding where he was going the third night in.

Hair dripping from the storm outside, his fingers feel bruised from switching out his plates for the third time. Sitting in the back of his van tucked away on the side of a dirt road somewhere in West Virginia, it was the first time in his life he was thankful his dad had taught him a thing or two about evading the law. Stripping off his wet jacket he knew he needed to find somewhere to go. He couldn’t keep driving aimlessly, he didn’t have the money for that. The only cash he had was whatever he’d gotten from his deals earlier in the week, thankful he didn’t spend it on the re up that was suppose to happen the night before everything changed.

He’d never seen the ocean, an elusive place he could only visit in his dreams. Stopped on the boarder between West Virginia and Pennsylvania he wasn’t that far from the east coast. Using his lighter to illuminate the road map he’d found stashed in a messy wad in his glove box he guessed it was maybe a 10 hour drive from the coast. Throwing the idea of sleep out the window with wet clothes making it impossible for him to get comfortable he decided to do what he’s done this whole time, drive.

Watching the early morning sun slowly seep into through the storm clouds the grey sky fades to a more comforting cerulean. Eddie drove with the kind of determination that he wish he’d used to pass high school. Maybe he wouldn’t even be in this mess if he’d just graduated when he was suppose to. Convincing himself he would have been long gone playing guitar in any city that wasn’t Hawkins, he lets himself wallow in self pity till his tires bring him to the ocean.

——

Finding his way into a nameless town that wasn’t even listed on his map, it made Hawkins look like New York City. A small strip set on top a broken battered road - he swerves to miss the never ending onslaught of pot holes. The few shops they had were attached to a single grocery store, the sides of the buildings eroding away from the misted wind. Snorting to himself - of course this is where he ends up, a beach side ghost town. Eddie catches the Help Wanted sign hanging in the window of the diner that lay nestled at the end. Sticking out from the rest, the way it’s lit almost makes it look like it glowing against it’s drab surroundings. It was also the only place he’d seen with any sign of human life.

The lights of The Sleepy Hill motel greet him like the four seasons, when his tired van pulls into the mostly empty lot. The flashing vacancy sign is a promise of a bed, his bones worn down and sore the weight of everything finally kicking in. When his dirty white Reebok’s hit the ground his arms reach for the sky in a kitten stretch of his whole body, eyes closing he relishes in the pops he feels in his spine.

Inhaling a deep breath the salt in the air stings his nose, the mist off the shore making his bangs stick to his forehead. Pulling a runway strand of hair from his cheek he finally takes everything in. On one side of him there was nothing but an endless expanse of tumultuous waves raging against the shore line. The storm clouds he had out run were making their way back through, the lingering bitterness of winter still hanging thick in the March air. It wasn’t like the kind of warmness he’d seen on the postcards, or the in the stories that Rick told, this wasn’t Venice Beach. The sight of a light house in the distance brings a slight feeling of comfort when he watches the strobes of light break through the purple hues of the darkness starting to set in over the horizon. Eyes lingering he lets himself sit in it for awhile watching the waves crash into the broken brick holding it up from falling into whatever laid in the water beneath it. When he turns his attention back to the town that took him less then a minute to drive through, the red “EAT HERE” sign that spun on top of the diner mocks his stomach when he realizes it had been almost a whole day with out any real food.

Slamming his car door shut, he takes quick strides to the back making a mental note to drive to the next town over at some point tomorrow to switch out his plates again, it was too risky to try to do it with any car in a town like this. Eyes darting nervously he opens his back doors with shudder that rings out over the sound of the waves. Furrowing his brows in concentration he starts digging though the blankets in the back searching for the outfit he’d found balled up a few nights ago. Forgotten about after a sleep over at Gareth’s, the memory of a time where his life wasn’t like this hurts in a way that he can’t explain. Maybe he wasn’t as miserable as he thought he was — all the little things he took for granted now at the forefront of his mind.

He hadn’t let himself think about Wayne. Maybe it was the adrenaline that kept his mind from going there, or that thing he’d heard about when your own mind blacks things out to protect you, but he hadn’t thought about what that must’ve been like for him to come home to that.

A life less mangled girl he didn’t know and a nephew that no one was going to find. Eddie just ran without a single thought as to what that would mean for him. Scowling to himself he blames the Munson blood that runs through his veins. Images of his Uncle slumped over with tired shoulders, shuffling into the trailer in the early morning hours when the sun is just peaking through the trees. Boots heavy from another double at work, walking right into the nightmare that Eddie left him with.

Eye’s burning he holds back his tears grabbing the balled up shirt and jeans giving them a sniff. They didn’t smell clean but they smelt better then what he was wearing now and that was just going to have to do. Fingers crossed the motel clerk would let him rent a room with out an ID, he was desperate for a shower. Shoving the garments into his backpack he takes another deep breath ignoring the sting this time, closing his eyes he fights away all the emotions that are ready to spill out. Clearing his throat he cracks his neck before slamming the metal doors shut.

Half way across the pavement Eddie stops in his tracks when he see’s the guy behind the counter. Not much older then him there was something oddly familiar about him, when he glances up catching Eddie in his line of sight. Shaggy brown hair parted down the middle and big teeth protruding from below his upper lip, his beady eyes squint as he tries to figure out what Eddie was doing. The sound of a distant boat horn is what makes his feet finally move again, the boy behind the counter standing up as Eddie closes the distance.

There’s a small chime when the glass door swings open, the warmth of the lobby heats him in a way he hadn’t realized he missed until its hits his skin. There’s an awkwardness that hangs thick in the air when the door closes behind him. Eddie hadn’t talked to another living soul in days besides mumbling the amount of cash and on what pump at gas stations. The man behind the desk who’s name tag said ‘Ron’ was staring at him like he was trying to pin point something familiar about the metal head, and it was making Eddie’s palms sweat. The anxiety of being caught tightening in his chest. Scratching the back of his neck he clears his throat.

“Hi — hey, man I’m uhh- I’m looking to get a room?” He tries to hide how startled he is at his own voice having not heard it in hours.

Ron’s silence doesn’t break much to his dismay as he takes in Eddie’s appearance. Dark eyes trail over his disheveled form before flicking back towards his van in the parking lot. It wasn’t just his palms that were sweating now.

“What’s your deal? You some kinda rockstar or something?” Ron finally breaks his silence, stunned it takes Eddie a minute to comprehend what exactly he’s being asked. When he finally wraps his head around the question he has to actively stop the snort that threatens to come out.

Looking down at his wrinkled hellfire shirt, the cotton is stained with a mixture of dirt and grime from the nights in his van. The whites of his Reebok’s barely visible under the dried up mud from last nights storm. Having caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass of the door on his way in, he knew his wild mane looked like a bird had laid nest in it.

“Excuse me, what?”

Ron sucks his teeth shrugging.

“You just look like that Van Halen guy, but there’s no way you’d be here if you were actually him I’d reckon.” He says matter of factly before sitting back down in his desk. “And he wouldn’t look like he just rolled around in a pigs play pin. Or maybe he would? I don’t know the life style of a celebrity.” He adds with a wave of his hand.

Stunned and completely unsure of how to respond to the man in front of him, the conversation was not going a direction Eddie had even seen coming. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, he finally finds his voice again.

“Yeah, not Eddie Van Halen. My name is Eddie though, Eddie umm Henderson.” He winces internally when Dustin’s last name leaves his mouth.

“Eddie Henderson? That’s not very rock and roll.” Ron tuts before looking up at Eddie from his computer.

Feeling his frustration start to reach it’s tipping point, his fists clench at his sides before they release. Running a hand over his face he exhales sharply through his nose mustering up enough self control to answer politely.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Eddie pointedly looks at his name tag before adding with a curt smile. “Ron.”

Arching a brow, the man at the front desk brings his attention back to the computer screen with a hum. The awkwardness from before becomes almost suffocating in the small room. The growing silence between them lasting long enough that Eddie starts to panic.

“Look man, I’m just trying to get a room for a few nights then I’ll be out of your hair okay? I’m not some rockstar who’s gonna trash the place. I’m a nobody.”

Eyes never leaving the screen the sound of the mouse clicking is the only noise filling the space.

“Got an I.D. Eddie Henderson?” Ron’s tone is flat when finally looks up at eddie through the hood of his lashes, his own irritation clear on his blemished face.

The question he knew was coming still stiffens his body when it leaves his mouth, but the thought of another night sprawled out on the damp blankets on the metal floor of his van is enough for the burning sensation of tears to sting his tired eyes again. Shuffling on his feet, he readjusts his backpack.

“I’ve got cash, I can pay for at least two days up front.” Stepping closer to the desk his fingers drum against the counter top nervously, doe eyes pleading to show him a shred of mercy.

“No, I.D. No ro—“

Digging the 200 of the 250 he had left from his pocket, he slaps it on the desk in a crumpled lump. His survival instincts kicking in with a new level of stubbornness he didn’t know he had. He wasn’t leaving until he had keys to a bed and a shower.

“Please, man. I’m begging you.” The tears that had been threatening fall finally breach his strong hold, a single droplet landing onto his bottom lashes. He wipes it away quickly with the back of his hand, sniffing he closes his eyes collecting himself again. “I’ll keep to myself, you won’t even know I’m here.”

Ron’s eyes soften at the desperation is Eddie’s voice, despite policy there was something sincere about the mysterious stranger standing in front of him.

“200 will get you three nights.” Reaching over the counter he grabs the crumbled up bills before standing up, turning to the wall of keys behind him.

Relief floods his body as he watches Ron’s fingers skim over the glistening metal dangling from the dark blue wall. Blinking back tears the tense muscles in his shoulders release some of the stress they’d been carrying for the last 700 miles.

“Room 10, it’s at the very end. No parties rockstar.” Handing over the single key, it hung from a round burgundy keychain, a faded gold 10 stamped onto the plastic. Eddie can’t help but actually laugh this time, his mood lifted for a fleeting moment.

“Seriously, thank you. You won’t regret this I promise.” Snatching the key before he had a chance to change his mind, he clasps both hands together in front of his face bowing slightly in appreciation.

“There’s free coffee in here every morning. If you bring your key to the diner up the road you get a ten percent discount. We don’t have laundry but there’s a laundromat next to the grocery store, it’s open weird hours you’ll have to check the sign.” Ron prattles on, his voice becoming more professional now that Eddie was a paying guest.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Walking backwards Eddie kicks the door open, the chill in the air sending a shiver down his spine.

“Nice to meet you Eddie Henderson.”

—

The walls of the motel room match the ones in the front office, the sapphire paint chipping at the edges of the ivory trim. The single bed in the middle was covered in a crimson duvet, two fluffed pillows propped against the black head board tempting him enough that he almost throws the idea of a shower and food out the window. Toeing off his shoes, the socks that should be a crisp white are the color of ash and it reminds him just how dirty he really is. Dropping his bag on the floor he starts peeling off his clothes making his way to wash off the last 72 hours.

A satisfied groan falls from between his chapped lips when the heat of the water hits his skin. Tilting his head back he lets it run through his thick tangled waves, pooling at his feet the water is tinged brown. Turning he faces the stream with closed eyes letting it wash over his face as he tries to find peace in his thoughts. The fear seeing Chrissy suspended in the air every time he closed his eyes was what prevented him from the sleep his strained body needed.

After spending longer then he should wrapped up in the warmth of the shower, he can’t ignore the growling in his stomach, remembering the discount at the diner he forces himself out.

The cheap blow dryer makes his hair frizz with more volume then he was used to, holding it down with both hands on either side of his head he sighs exasperated when he lets it go and it bounces back with more force.

Whatever, he didn’t know anyone here and he wasn’t going to be around long.

Changing into his cleaner clothes, he pats down his jeans feeling something in his back pocket. Reaching behind him his fingers come in contact with the thin plastic foiling of a crumpled half full pack of cigarettes he’d left in a drunk mess one night.

“Fuck. Yes.” He mutters to himself feeling a little more like a person rather then just a passenger in his own body for the first time in the last three days.

Grabbing his jacket off the bed nimble fingers search for his lighter once the leather is wrapped around his shoulders. Smirking when he finds it, he heads for the door grabbing his key off the off the dresser. Turning around before he leaves he takes one good look at his new home for the next few days. It wasn’t much but it was better then hiding off on the side roads begging to get caught.

——

The rocks crunch under his feet as he walks up the wounded asphalt towards the diner, the mist in the air taming the poof in his hair as he struggles to get the cigarette lit. The hint of tobacco on his tongue teasing him as the gust off the shore snuffs out the flame every single time.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” dangling in his lips he stops for a second to switch positions so his back was facing the direction of the wind. “You’ve got to be shitting me.” Grumbling he snatches it out of his mouth in a huff before shoving it back in his pocket. Keeping his hands dug in into his jacket his face is set in a hard glare as he hits the parking lot of the diner. The inside gleams brightly and it’s the stark contrast to the dark moody-ness of his thoughts and the outside.

There’s families gathered in the windows laughing in the warmth of the light and he does his best to ignore the pang in his chest. Shoving down the realization of just how alone he really is now, he wasn’t ready to mentally unpack that yet.

Opening the single glass door of the entrance, the sound of the oldies station plays under the low hum of everyone’s chatter. Red vinyl covering the seats, a row of booths line the outside, the white walls barely visible decorated, covering almost every inch in various collectibles. The long bar attached to the kitchen extends down the length of the restaurant lined with stools.

Unlike the booths, the bar was filled with truckers and waderers. Hunched over their food alone in their thoughts. Taking a seat where he belonged the chain of his wallet clinks loudly against the metal of the stool.

The menu was already laid out on the formica counter top, just a page long the corners of the lamination are creased after obvious years of use. His eyes strain to read the red words that pop out against the white of the paper, the sleepless nights slowly catching up to his body. He tries pulling it further from his face to get a better look completely unaware of the pair of eyes watching him.

“Need some help with the menu?” A melodious voice breaks his concentration. Looking for the owner he comes face to face with you.

Almost as if someone knocked the wind out of him the softness of your features stuns him enough that he can’t find his voice. The dress you wear as a uniform wraps tightly around your curves and he fights his eyes from wandering. Hand on the counter in front of him you lean into his space, the smell of maple syrup hits his nose — sickly sweet he wants nothing more then to close his eyes and bask in it. Your warm gaze lands on his face and it feels like he’s looking up at the bright sun on a summer day. You didn’t look like you belonged here.

Realizing he hadn’t answered you, he clears his throat trying to shake his nerves. He was never good at talking to girls, especially not girls that looked like you and definitely not under these circumstances.

“You’re new around here.” You grin eyeing the slightly disheveled boy in front of you.

“Do you have burgers?” Blurting out his question he closes his eyes embarrassed when he realizes he’s ignored your observation too caught up to think straight. “Sorry.”

Laughing sweetly you take the menu from his hands finger tips brushing against his, the connection making his cheeks blossom pink.

“Sure do, how do you want it?” Pulling out your pocket sized note book from your apron, his eyes catch the red of your nail polish and for some reason it makes his cheeks deepen to match.

“Medium is —uh, is fine.” Scratching the back of his neck he watches the way your pen swoops gracefully against the paper.

“Fries okay?” Looking up at him from under your lashes his breath hitches loud enough for you to hear, the reaction making you bite your lip in a smile.

“Yeah, fries are, fries are great.” Exhaling loudly he gives you a tight lipped smile wishing he could bury his head in the sand.

“Anything to drink?” Ripping the page you turn around slipping it through the small window of the kitchen behind you. The line cook grabs it with a curt nod before you bring the full force of your stare back to him.

“Water is fine.” The sentence is short but he gets it out with out a hitch at least. Rubbing his hands nervously on his thighs he catches the mischievous glint dance around your eyes.

A small knowing smirk plays on your lips before walking away to the drink station at the other end of the long bar.

“Real fucking smooth.” Eddie grumbles to himself catching the attention of the trucker seated next to him.

“If that makes you feel any better son, I think she thought it was cute.” The gruffness of his voice reminds him of his Uncle, the few moments with you had made him almost forget about why he was here in the first place. Guilt slowly starting to eat away at him as he tries to re focus his thoughts, the familiar sting coming back to his eyes.

Before Eddie has a chance to respond your sliding the glass in front of him, eyes never leaving his as you pull out a straw from your front pocket. This time he’s strong enough to hold your gaze even if the red on his cheeks spreads to his neck.

“It’ll be like 15 minutes, Freddy’s pretty quick.” Nodding back towards the kitchen, Eddie tries to listen to you but he’s too focused on the sheen of your lip gloss. A sharp elbow to his side snaps him out of his trance, his new friend trying to help him out.

“Oh— okay, thanks.” Dropping his eyes down he brings all of his attention to unwrapping his straw, silently scolding himself for being even less smooth then the first interaction. The only reason he knows you’ve walked away is the loss of sweetness that settles in the air in your presence.

Shoving the straw in his drink, the ice clinks loudly against the glass before taking a big gulp. When the water washes over his tongue in a wave of rejuvenation, he closes his eyes humming in satisfaction sucking more then half the glass down before pushing it away with a wipe of his mouth. He can feel what the needed hydration does for him in his finger tips, his brain function starting to sharpen.

Chocolate eyes finding you again, he watches the way you move around the restaurant with ease. Everything you were doing seemed second nature, bending down to meet the kids at eye level he watched the families stare up at you with the same adoration on their faces. It wasn’t just him you effected like that, it was every one.

Cleaning off one of the booths, he watches you bend over the table — selfishly letting his eyes wander your body in the way he’d fought off before. Expertly stacking the dirty plates in your arms, you shove the cash tip they’d left in your apron. Turning on your heel you catch his stare, stopping for a brief moment before your lips tug up in a way that makes him avert his gaze — but even he knew it was too late. He’d been caught.

Closing his eyes when you walk by he inhales deeply, chasing the comfort your scent brings. You smelt like Sunday mornings with his mom, the only childhood memories he was fond of. He watched as you disappeared through the double doors of the kitchen, loud voices greeting you once you were hidden in the back. It was obvious you’d been here for awhile. The urge to try and piece together your story is a welcoming distraction from his own.

You aren’t back there long before you push back through with a toothy grin, shaking your head in amusement. An irrational hint of jealousy settles deep in his gut at whoever was making you laugh like that. The high pitch ding of the kitchen bell brings his attention back to the small window, a burger and fries so warm he could see the steam coming off the bun sit waiting for you to collect. Brain going empty he can feel himself start to salivate, his hunger taking front and center in his mind now.

Too focused on his food he has better self control of his eyes when you go to grab it. Sliding the plate in front of him Eddie mumbles a thank you before snatching the burger, ignoring the way it heats under his finger tips.

Taking a giant bite he immediately opens his mouth at the shock of the burn, his initial reaction to spit it out is stopped when he looks up to see you watching him with crossed arms as you lean against the back counter.

“I would have told you to give it a minute, but I thought that was obvious.” Teasing him, Eddie fans his open mouth searching for reprieve only swallowing it when the pain subsides. Taste buds inflamed and seared he takes another gulp of water basking in the way it soothes his mouth.

“Sorry, I haven’t really eaten all day.” Grabbing a fry he dunks it into the small ceramic cup filled with ketchup before tossing it into his mouth. Curious eyes land on yours making him wonder what’s keeping your attention as he eats with out manners.

“So, what are you running from?” Choking on his food at your question his eyes go wide, maybe the news had made it’s way over here.

“W-what do you mean?” Swallowing loudly his appetite suddenly disappears.

“I mean, I’ve never seen you before. People either move here to run from something or they’re just passing through.” You shrug as if your question was nonchalant. “So are you a runner or a wanderer?”

“What are you?” Eddie counters back arching a brow before taking another sip of water.

The smirk you give him is almost devilish when you push yourself off the counter invading his space again. The smell he can’t get enough of swirling around him in a dizzying effect.

“I’m a runner.” There’s something hidden behind your eyes that he can’t decipher when you give him your answer unashamed. “I told you mine, it’s your turn now.”

Of course you weren’t from here, how could you be?

“Runner.” He says simply already nervous he shared too much. Averting his eyes he plops another fry in his mouth before he remembers that this 15 dollar meal was gonna put a significant hole in his remaining funds.

Looking back up from his food he sees you’re already half way down the bar walking he hasn’t even asked you about the Now Hiring sign dangling from the window.

“Hey! — I mean wait.” Eddie’s outburst catches you and half the diners attention and despite his embarrassment he doesn’t miss the way your lips curve up when you make your way back to him.

“Yes?” Raising your eyebrows in question you plant both hands on the counter top in front of him leaning forward a stance that keeps his Eddie swimming.

“I saw your help wanted sign in the window.” Clearing his throat for more confidence “How would a runner apply for said job?”

“You haven’t even told me your name, and you don’t even know what we’re hiring for.” All valid points leave your mouth and he nods with a scratch of his head.

“It’s Eddie, Eddie Henderson.” He said it once and now he just has to roll with it, he’ll apologize to Dustin if he ever sees him again. “I’m not picky, I’ll do anything. Just in desperate need for some cash.”

“Well Eddie Henderson, I guess that means you’re planning on staying here long enough to get work huh?” Tongue poking the side of your cheek he can tell there’s ideas bouncing around in your head.

“Yeah, for a little bit.” Eddie didn’t want to tell you that his time here was numbered in the single digits or that he needed the work so he wouldn’t become completely homeless in the next few days while he ran from the law.

Blowing out a loud breath, you drum your hands on the counter before turning around towards the white board behind you with various names and schedules scribbled on it. He wondered which was you. Grabbing an application from the stack that was pinned on the board you turn back around around pulling a pen from your pocket. Clicking it open you set it down for him to fill out.

Eddie wastes no time in scribbling out his fake information, chest swelling with excitement. He didn’t think it would be this easy and despite your stare making him nervous he could feel his own smile pull at his lips just for a moment.

“I’m just gonna need an ID to show my boss.”

The sentence leaves your mouth and Eddie wants to fucking scream, his grip on the pen becoming so hard he was close to snapping it in half. It was an issue at the motel why wouldn’t be an issue here? It’s not like he didn’t have one, it just had all of his real information on it. Information that had the potential to get him caught.

“I- I don’t have one.” It’s quiet when it leaves his mouth voice shaking and defeated. Meeting your eyes again he notices how they soften as if you could read his mind.

“You moved to a new town without any ID?” You question is gentle when it comes out watching the way his shoulders slump. The first smile you’d seen grace his handsome features slowly fading away.

“I’m afraid I can’t give this to him with out some kind of proof as to who you are.” It’s lame when it comes out of your mouth and you wish it could be different when you watch his big doe eyes glass over.

“It’s fine, I’ll figure something out. I appreciate the help none the less.” Eddie gives slight nod pushing the application away, his brain already starting to reel with no back up plan lined up. He feels fucking stupid.

Unsure how to comfort the cute mysterious stranger you shove your pen back in your pocket giving him your most apologetic look. The air shifting into something that felt like you should give him privacy— you walk away as he digs for his wallet.

Throwing a twenty on the table, he’s too embarrassed to even ask for the discount. He takes one last big bite of his burger before goes to stand up, the sudden urge to sleep becoming over powering with the hope a better idea would come to him tomorrow.

“Hey, actually.” Your honeyed voice drips through his very obvious despair.

Stopping him before he had a chance to leave, Eddie’s chestnut eyes meet yours in question.

Biting at your bottom lip, he can tell your nervous to ask him whatever was bouncing around in your head.

“Do you know anything about cars?” The thought of your late grandmothers car sitting motionless in your drive way comes to mind and how desperate you were for a pair of working wheels.

“I mean I’m no mechanic, but I can do the basics.” He offers back with a shrug.

“Good enough for me, I live by the beach not far from the motel down the road, it’s a shitty yellow house you can’t miss it. I’ve got a car you can come look at tomorrow, if you think you can fix it I’ll hire you myself.” Eddie doesn’t know why you’re being so nice to him but he’s not going to turn you down the offer. Even if he can’t fix it, he sure as shit was going to figure out how.

“Alright, sure yeah, I’ll come by.” Trying to contain his excitement the smile you’d already missed comes creeping back to his face.

“Perfect, I’ll see you around 10? I’ve gotta work at 4 so that should be plenty of time for you to come take a look yeah?” Not wanting to tease that six hours is plenty of time to do a normal check up on a car he just nods instead.

“I’ll be there at 10.” With a nod of his head and the first genuine smile on his face in days, he pushes back out into the developing storm.

——

Head swirling with the events of the day the cheap motel bed moans under his weight as he stares up at the water marks on the ceiling tile. The feathers of the pillows underneath him bring back the heaviness of his eyelids as all the muscles in his body finally relax. The fear of sleep slowly slipping to the back of his mind when the softness of your smile replays on a loop behind closed eyes.

——-

Taglist: @newlips @bimbobaggins69 @munsonology @triplethreat77 @edsforehead @manda-panda-monium @emotionaldreamer @eddiesprincess86 @micheledawn1975 @lil-graveling @b-irock @munsonmunster

If I missed anyone please let me know!

[konigbabe]

࿐ྂ MASTERLIST

smut: ☆ ┊ angst: ❃ ┊ fluff: ♡ ┊ hurt/(no)comfort: ♧

my latest pieces ——  eleusinian mysteries; pearls before swine REQUESTS CLOSED.

navigation • faq • AO3 • headcanons • infopost • ko-fi

WRITING GAMES

NSFW alphabet with John Price [☆] NSFW alphabet with König[☆] NSFW alphabet with Keegan P. Russ [☆] A to Z kinks [masterlist]

JUJUTSU KAISEN

JJK season 2 writing week [masterlist; finished] Satoru Gojo NSFW week 2023 [masterlist; finished]

TOJI FUSHIGURO

lucky pick [☆] ↳ You offer Toji assistance in winning a boat race so he finds a way to thank you.

HAJIME KASHIMO

steal the thunder [∅] part i; ↳ There might be something more in play after you two met.

RESIDENT EVIL

LEON KENNEDY

single dad AU [masterlist]

mosaic of us [☆] — plaga Leon ↳ Hidden in the village, Leon's condition keeps deteriorating. mornings like these (don't last forever) [♡] ↳ Beneath you, he’s a masterpiece. A work of art. Canvas to be explored. heavenly sin [☆] ↳ It's been known that Leon is one kinky bastard.

CALL OF DUTY

MULTIPLE

feast of pleasure (Simon “Ghost” Riley x König x Keegan P. Russ x fem!reader) [☆] ↳ A friendly atmosphere; until someone asked, “Would you rather kiss him or me?”

JOHN PRICE

heartburn [☆; ❃; ♧] ↳ John stomped into the shared bedroom, legs freezing upon the sight of you. the version of me and you [☆; ❃] ↳ John was the one constant in your life, the one person you could always count on. propinquity [☆] — bodyguard AU ↳ You have to deal with a bodyguard who is anything but pleasant to be around. the taste of scotch [☆] ↳ John Price enjoys two of his favorite things on Earth…you and Scotch.

KEEGAN RUSS

lose composure [☆] ↳ You and Keegan as friends with benefits. little storm [☆; ❃] part i; part ii; part iii ↳ Keegan thought getting both of them out of the enemy lines was an easy job.

PHILLIP GRAVES

the five times you meet cmdr. graves ↳ The five times you meet Cmdr. Phillip Graves and the one time he surprises you.

OTHER

TANGERINE (Bullet Train film)

the codeine scene [☆] ↳ Tangerine was a man filled with intense hatred towards you

DEAN WINCHESTER (Supernatural tv show)

drinking game gone wrong [☆] — MOC!Dean ↳ You and Dean give into each other after months of mutual pining.

[americas1suiteheart]

🚄Bullet Train Fics🚄

🍋Lemon Fics🍋

Dating Lemon Would Include... [Lemon x GN! Reader Headcannons]

Lemon As A Dad [Lemon x Fem! Reader Headcannons]

I Like Lemons [Lemon x Assassin! Reader]

Let Me Pamper You [Lemon x GN! Reader]

Your Order, Please? [Lemon x GN! Reader]

🍊Tangerine Fics🍊

Dating Tangerine Would Include... [Tangerine x GN! Reader]

I'm Sorry, Love [Tangerine x GN! Reader]

Kleptomaniacs [Tangerine x Kleptomaniac! Reader]

Tangerine x Assassin! Reader (WIP)

🔫Multiple Character Fics🔫

🍊🍋The Twins Reacting To You Asking If They Like Harry Potter🍋🍊

🍊🍋Sick Days🍋🍊

🐞Ladybug Fics🐞

Dating Ladybug Would Include... [Ladybug x GN! Reader]

[call-sign-jinx]

Tangerine ~ You're My Top Priority

Summary: you and tangerine have an argument that ends up with you crying, you go to sleep after getting drugged and when you wake up tangerine confesses something.

Warnings: swearing, fluff, makeout, guns and i think thas it

A/N: hiya babes! if ur reading this i hope u find it great cos i acc enjoyed writing sommet for once. ill probs do more and requests r open so ye. adios hun xoxo

tangerine x fem!reader

To put it simply. I hate Tangerine’s guts. Why? Cause he’s a fucking twat and everyone knows it. Some people are just more tolerable to him than others. Me? I don’t take any of his shit cause I just don’t care anymore. When I were younger, I used to let people take the piss and use me for my kindness but as I grew older, I started to care less. It started to drain me being that nice all the time. So by the time I was about 15, I just... Cracked. What I mean is I realised who used me and who didn’t and the worst of them all was none other than Tangerine himself. He wanted me to do something for him and instead of finally saying no, I just snapped and let out all my anger out on him. Obviously he fought back, but I won anyway. And from that day, we both hated each other.

Now, I’m on a mission with Lemon, and sadly Tangerine, to bring the White Death’s son to him and also to bring a brief case. Simple but also not. I heard that some other people are after the briefcase so when Tangerine mentioned that we wouldn’t keep it with us for the train journey. I obviously had something to say.

“Why the fuck would yer leave it there without one of us ‘olding it? Ahaha you pleb are you ‘aving a giggle?” I tilted my head back as I laughed at Tangerine. Lemon let out a small giggle as he has always loved my accent. Tangerine just pulled a face at me that looked like disgust.

“Do you plan on holding it mate?” Tangerine wanted an argument, and so did I. So I was going to give him one.

“Nah, am not gonna ‘old it, yer 'olding you daft bastard." Lemon couldn't help but burst into a fit of giggles. Tangerine hit his shoulder to try and stop him but all it did was make them go slightly quieter.

"Maybe if you grew a pair Tangerine, you'd get a job done without needing other people to do all the dirty work." I crossed my arms across my chest and Tangerine gave me the dirtiest look he could fathom.

"Who do you think you're talking to Baroness? You're only on our side cause we needed you for one thing then this bastard decided to let you join our 'team'." Tangerine pointed to Lemon angrily and I rolled my eyes as he continued to lecture me while Lemon put a hand on his chest in mock offense. I lay back into my seat and blocked his voice out.

"Oi! Just because you're rich from daddy's money you inherited when he died doesn't mean you have to ignore me you stuck up bitch." That struck a nerve. He knew my dad died when I was 16. I had to get pulled out of school because of it for a bit. He died because of something I did. Something I did cost him his fucking life.

"You know not to talk 'bout ma dad you fucking stupid cunt." My eyes began to tear up and I couldn't hold them in anymore. I stood up and went to the bathroom as far away from Tangerine as I could. I locked the door and sat there for a while. Guess it was long enough for me to fall asleep. I know, why on God's green earth is an agent falling asleep on a mission? I don't fucking know mate, I were just feeling tired since I had that cup of tea that man gave me. Fuck! It has halcian. I thought it were that in his fucking pocket.

I leaned against the wall and my eyes got heavier and heavier with every second. Until... I fell asleep.

When I woke up, I heard shouting and people fighting. I quickly woke myself up and psyched myself up to get ready for a punch getting thrown or a kick to the leg. I quickly opened the door and as soon as I stepped out I was met with silence. I looked to the left of me, and there were men down on the floor. Then I looked to the right, great. It were Tangerine post-fight with sweat glazing his face and exposed chest. God his body looked good in that sui- what the fuck am I thinking? No! He's a fucking prick. But he's a fit prick. Ugh it's fucking confusing.

"Oh my God, Ness! I thought someone had hurt you! Are you alright?" He cupped my cheeks and turned my head side to side to scan for any signs of damage. I rolled my eyes and pushed his gorgeous, veiny hands away from my face.

"Why don't you go get the brief case since thas what yer always worried bout. Fucking cumbag." I went to turn around and leave but Tangerine grabbed my wrist and held me in place. He looked at me and oh. My. God. I never noticed how blue and beautiful his eyes were. Baroness! Stop! He's been a prick since day 1, why now?

"Y/N, what do you mean? I care more about you than the briefcase. I always have. You're my top priority." He cupped my cheeks once again and heat were rising to my face.

"Anyway, besides the point. Where've you been this past hour? We kind of needed you a bit." He gestures his head side to side at the men down on the floor.

"Some fucking wankface man spiked ma drink. Am fucking livid and am gonna knock his lights out." Tangerine's whole demeanor changed. His went from soft and caring to pissed off and looks like he's about to kill everyone in his sight.

"Who the fuck did it? Do you remember what he looked like?" I looked to my left when I saw a figure coming towards us and it was the prick himself. I pointed at him and before I could even say anything, Tangerine pulled his gun out and shot him between the eyes.

"Jesus Christ Tang, bit of a warning next time?" Tangerine quickly put his gun away and apologised.

"By the way Ness, am sorry for what I said earlier. That wasn't called for and I crossed the line." He looked down to his shoes with furrowed brows.

"Tang, its fine. I've said some fucked up shit to you before. Some has been even worse than that and you just act like you don't care when I know it hits a nerve. Plus am tired of fighting all the time. Mates?" I put my hand out for him to shake but when he grabbed it he pulled me closer to him then pressed his lips against mine.

I was shocked at first but then I kissed him back and pulled him as close as possible by placing my hands on the back of his neck. He slowly places his hands on my waist and squeezes them as he does the same.

He swipes his tongue across my bottom lip asking for access. I open my mouth in response and it turns into a heated makeout, until both of us lose our breath.

"I think I wanna be more than mates darling." Tangerine smirks at me and I returned the expression. We then decide to go look for Lemon and head to the bottom of the train as quick as we can.

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

Hey friends, soz it’s been ages since I’ve updated but the next chapter of Learn to Love Again is like, two thirds done? I have surgery on Thursday so unlikely I’ll post before then but who knows

Other fics that are coming down the pipeline:

Tangerine (bullet train) x reader soulmate au

Butch Deloria (fallout 3) x fem lone wanderer first kiss prompts (random I know but I have an urge)

More of She Has No Idea (Stevie baby)

Chrissy Cunningham x “bad girl” reader full series

A new dad!colin zabel one-shot in the “even if it all comes crashing down”-verse

If you wanna be on the tag list for any of these, hmu

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Ooo hii can I please request a Tangerine x fem!reader where she is in her early twenties and she’s the White Death’s more forgotten daughter as she’s not a violent person or a criminal (she’s pretty much treated like the Cinderella of the family by everyone- By her Dad, her sister (The Prince), her brother (The Son), and their Dad’s men). Her sister (The Prince) threatens her into helping with the whole Bullet Train scheme. At some point she has Y/n go up to the Twins with a weapon to “threaten” them… Poor Y/n is terrified and squeezing her eyes shut and shaking (and probably holding the weapon incorrectly), and the Twins are pretty much tilting their heads in confusion at the sight in front of them, and are pretty much like, “You’ve never done this before, have you? You’ve never even held a weapon before, have you?” They gently (and easily) take the weapon from her and ask if she needs help and who’s making her do this, andddd then she breaks down and details her sister’s whole master plan + they find out how awful Y/n has been treated by her whole family and they get her out of that situation and take her in and becoming the family Y/n always wanted🥺🥺 Tan honestly having to be held back when he hears Y/n’s sister berate her. Tangerine and Y/n falling in love?

Readers adopted so everyone can read, I made this super long so buckle up, Suggestive

Black sheep

You were just at your job, normally waiting the tables. It was late and you guys were about to close.

“Hello! I’m y/n, I’ll be your server today, what drinks can I get you to start off with?” You looked at the person, thinking they looked oddly familiar.

“Sister.” the woman said.

You furrowed your eyebrows, eyes widening at the realization.

You said her name, it sounded more like a question. She nodded. You stumbled back a bit, before she grabbed your wrists, making you drop the pen and paper in your hand.

“I’m here because I have an offer- well not really an offer. You are going to go with me on a mission. To kill our so beloved father. If you don’t, I’ll just kill dad, and then I’ll kill you, and then for fun I’ll kill your dog.”

You were shaking at this point, you tried to talk and your boss came up.

“Everything all right here?”

You were gonna speak when she did before you. “Everything’s fine.”

“Right.. take off for the night, okay?” He looked at you, and you were dragged out the doors.

———————————————————————

The three of you were soon in a bathroom, and Kimura held a gun to her head.

Your eyes widened again, stepping away from them both, stumbling against the wall.

“Picture it.”

“Picture what?”

“Well, the man. Watching your son. I wonder how he’ll do it. Maybe a pillow to the face. Maybe something clever, like an air bubble in the IV.”

You went to go outside the door, when she caught you in the mirror.

“And imagine your poor dog. Whining and barking all because her owner couldn’t help her sister.” She looked at you. And you gulped and stepped back inside. You loved your dog.

Kimura took the gun away from her head and held it, going to give it to her.

“Give it to her. The innocent young girl act doesn’t really get you very far. If you’re holding a loaded gun.”

His phone ringed, and he talked to his father.

She took his phone, and she took the gun, then handed it to you. You looked at it, breath shaky along with your hands.

“You’re going to sit here and you’re going to go through every combination until you open up that case.”

“Kid, that could take f-“

“No, no, it won’t. I’d start with the low numbers. Just a thought, c’mon, you’re coming with me.” She dragged you along out the bathroom.

———————————————————————

You passed your brother then, you gasped and took a step back, running into a table and falling to the ground.

Your sister just looked at him and took off his glasses, spitting in his face.

She looked down at you, kicked you, and you stood back up.

Of course you were the black sheep of the family, and they all treated you bad, but still. He was your brother.

—————————————————————-

You and your sister walked back to where he was, and he had opened the case.

“Look at that. I knew my luck would rub off on you. Fuck.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” Kimura asked.

“I am doing the same thing that I did to the gun in her hand.”

You looked down at the gun.

“If the gun doesn’t kill him, the case will.”

“This thing could’ve killed me at any point-“ you said.

“No, no, it’s inert until you fire it. But I do want you to fire this one.” She handed you one that was in her bag, a normal one.

You looked at it, in disbelief as you put the other one down.

“I’ve never..”

“Well your gonna. Kill the twins and the old guy… what’s his name? I don’t care..” she waved you off, you stared at her again.

“Are you se- wha-“ she pushed you out the door, you fell onto the ground.

“And I have a camera on it, so if you don’t do it, I’ll find you and kill you myself.” She said, and then the door closed.

You mumbled something under your breath, and shakily picked yourself back up.

————————————————————-

That’s how you were now holding a gun to Lemon. He held his own to your face, as you screwed your eyes shut. He looked confused.

“You know your holding the gun wrong, right?” He said, you opened your eyes and he noticed your anxiousness.

He grabbed his phone out and texted tangerine to come.

Soon enough tangerine was rushing there, and held a gun to you quickly. You winced as both guns were now pointed at your temple. They backed you into a corner, you didn’t have anything to do.

“Start talking, we don’t got all day.” The one with the mustache said.

Your eyes started to water and you broke down. He slowly took the gun away, and you were now putting your face in your knees, both men looked confused now.

Lemon put his gun down, and stared at you.

“M-my sister made me do this- I don’t even know what I’m doing! I don’t even know how to shoot or hold a gun!” You told them. “She’s trying to kill our dad. The white death.”

“Your dad is the white death? Your the guys sister?” Tangerine asked.

“Adopted. But yeah.” Your lip quivered and you looked up at them, nodding.

“Fucked up family.” Lemon snickered, Tangerine nudging his arm.

“Sh-She’s using me as bait, to kill you and the glasses guy, but I don’t know how to kill anyone and-“

“Calm down, yeah? Your safe.. just, explain where she is, can you do that?” Lemon asked, crouching down next to you as Tangerine looked around and ran a hand through his hair.

Your eyes widened when you remembered the gun had a camera.

“We have to go, like soon.” You mumbled to them quietly, and you quickly scrambled away, running.

They just followed you, you weren’t much of a threat they thought. You were literally shaking just holding a gun.

——————————————————————

That’s how you were now underneath a table, as the twins sat.

“She’s fucking insane, if she sees me-“

“Relax. We jus’ gotta find glasses and tell him.” Tangerine said, mostly talking to lemon.

“Yeah, before he shoots our heads off.” He snorted. You looked over at your brother mostly, and then just hid your head in your knees.

“Hey! You Haven’t happened to see my sister have you?”

“What’s she look like?”

“She has e/c eyes, and h/c hair. She’s insane, a literal psychopath. Her therapist wanted me to take her but I can’t find her.” She shrugged.

“Nah, sorry.”tangerine quickly said.

She glanced under the table, clearly seeing you.

“Mm.. just tell her if you do see her that I’m looking for her.. I’ll be waiting.”

“Mhm.” Tangerine nodded, and motioned for her to keep moving.

“She knows. Damnit.” You mumbled, and went up from underneath the table and next to Tangerine.

“So now what do we do?”

“Like I said, jus’ wait for glasses.”

———————————————————————-

You all waited for a while, then he moved on the seat across, holding a gun to Lemon.

“I thought I knocked you out. But anyways who are you?” He looked to you, pointing the gun to you now as both men quickly pulled their out and pointed it to him.

“Her sisters the target, mate. Put the gun down.” Lemon said, and he slowly did.

“And we don’t need you, so one fucking move I’ll blow your brains out.” Tangerine said.

“Mmm.. so then why am I here?”

“Jus’ fucking listen.”

As you explained your family, and how they had always treated you, Tangerine and Lemon looked as each other for a moment then looking back, then you started to explain how your sister wanted to kill your dad to become the new white death.

“So she wants me to be bait. She doesn’t want any distractions so that’s why she sent me-“

“Why didn’t she send Kimura instead of you? I mean, if you don’t even know how to hold a gun wouldn’t it make more sense?”Ladybug asked.

“Probably because she’s always wanted me fucking dead.” You mumbled.

“Ohhhh.. got it. Yeah that makes sense.” He nodded.

“Alright, jus’ calm down. We’ll stop her from.. doin’ whatever to you, yeah?” Tangerine said. Lemon quirked an eyebrow, Tangerine wasn’t exactly known for being a sweet guy.

You nodded, and you just looked as they came up with a plan.

“She’s not gonna fall for it.” You mumbled. They all turned to you now.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that she still has Kimura. She brought him here for him to fail. For her plan to work. She’s not gonna die before he does. She’s a selfish little prick-“

“Fuck, I knew I should’ve gotten off this train.” Ladybug mumbled, groaning in annoyance.

“And the hornets still alive.” You said.

“Who?” Lemon and tangerine asked.

“Actually….” Ladybug scratched the back of his neck.

“You killed her? Fuck. That’s crazy, my sister always went on about how she was annoying. She found out the wolf was here for the hornet.”

Tangerine sighed. “Can we please get back on fucking track?”

Tangerine got a call. He looked at you and picked it up.

“You have been lying to me, my friend.”

“Well, cats out the bag now, innit?”

“You were responsible for keeping my son safe, for keeping my money safe.”

“I don’t know a thing or two about being a parent, but you know what I would do, being that it’s your son and your money? I’d stop crying about your dead wife, get off your lazy fucking ass, come here and finish the job yourself. And while your at it, maybe apologize to your daughter or something, I dunno, just a thought.” He paused.

“But as we’re having a bit of a heart to heart, got a couple things to tell ya. Your sons a complete bellend, and as for your case I haven’t seen it since Toyko and I hope someone’s fuckin’ found it, put it all on red and having a fuckin’ wonderful time.”

“I will meet you at Kyoto Station.“

“Oh, how wonderful. I can’t fucking wait.”

“I want to look into your eyes when I kill you and your brother, along with my daughter.”

“Good fuckin’ luck, morning rush hours rolling in quite nicely. Uh, what’s your plan, mate? You gonna fuckin’ waltz in here and blow my brains out in front of the whole fuckin’ carriage of witnesses?”

“There is no one left on that train. I know. I bought every ticket until the end of the line.”

The elder walked into the train, and Ladybug stood up.

“Yeah I’m getting off this train. Sorry bout your family and deaths but I gotta go to a temple or some shit… reevaluate everything I’ve ever done.”

Tangerine and lemon then held a gun to his head, motioning for him to sit back down.

He sighed and put his hands up, sitting back down.

“Looks like I’m staying.”

———————————————————————-

So they made up another plan, with you involved this time.

The elder sat across from the princes.

“You are the one who pushed my grandson off the department store roof, why?”

“Your son. He’s going to help me kill the white death at Kyoto station. And that was the only way to get him on this train.”

“The white death.”

“That’s right. But he couldn’t even do that. So he’s dead, just a few cars back. They are both dead.”

“My grandson was pushed off a roof. What makes you think I would leave him unprotected?” He got a text message.

“My grandson is safe. And my son is not dead-“

“Listen, old man-“ she stood up.

“The only thing you know about an old man, young lady, is that he has survived much more, and much worse than you.”

She took her bag and quickly ran away.

—————-

A snake came slithering up towards Ladybug, your eyes widened and Lemon and Tangerine stared at it.

“What? There something on my face-“ he was interrupted when it latched onto his arm, biting him.

“Ow! Motherfu-“ he ran to the nearest bathroom, and shoved it into a toilet. He sighed and sat down for a moment.

Then the elder sat down, right across from Ladybug.

“Who the hell are you?” Tangerine asked, remembering how the white death bought every ticket, keeping his guard up.

“I am Kimura’s father.”

“Do you know where he is…?” You asked.

“I do.”

So then he took you, only you for some reason. He didn’t quite look how everyone else held a gun to him first thing.

They talked, his son was still alive. Barely.

You all went back and you helped his son clean up a bit. Lemon and Tangerine talked for a while.

“I don’t need help.” He mumbled.

“It’s the least I can do to apologize for my shitty sister.” You gave him a meek smile, and Tangerine and Lemon came over to you two. You gave them a smile and then went back to helping Kimura.

Then you went to hang out with Lemon and Tangerine only, Kimura wanted space.

“Thank you.” You blurted out.

“For what?”

“Everything. You both saved me. If I’m gonna die, I don’t wanna die because of her.”

Lemon smiled and nodded.

“It’s nothin’. The only problem now is killing them both, yeah?” Tangerine said.

“Yeah.” You smiled again.

———————————————————————-

That’s how you lemon, and tangerine started out. You started to call and text them in Japan, then deciding to move, but not knowing where, they decided hey why not that house down the street?. It was a nice house, so you said why not.

That’s how you now lived in London, you and Lemon were great friends. You and Tangerine were more complicated.

“So… this can’t happen again.” He would always say, laying down next to you. Even though he’d love for it to happen again.

“Agreed.” You mumbled.

It happened again, a lot more times.

“We can’t keep doin’ this to Lemon.” He would say. Lemon if anything, wanted it to happen.

“You two would make the best couple.” He said one day when they were eating dinner, Tangerine choked on his food and stared at him.

“What? Don’t think I haven’t heard you two. Oh yes, right there!” He mocked you, making him laugh loudly and Tangerine throwing a piece of bread at him.

“Go fuck yourself.” He stood up, grumbling and going to his room.

Lemon continued to laugh, and then you walked in.

“Heyyyyy… don’t mean to bother you. Where’s Tan?” You asked.

“Hey, we were just talkin’ bout’ you.” He snickered, you furrowed your eyebrows.

“He’s in his room. I’m guessing you’re gonna…” he snickered again, you didn’t understand at first.

“Lemon!” You groaned, and he laughed loudly again. Your cheeks heated up and you just went into Tangerines room.

“Oh man. Too good. Too funny.” He laughed.

In reality you came to borrow a book, but ended up staying the night. Lemon came in to give him something, and then he saw you both cuddled up, Tangerines arms wrapped around you.

He took out his phone, taking a picture.

“I’m never gonna let them forgot this.” He smirked to himself, closing the door quietly again.

[zaynsxsoul]

Tangerine | Slash x fem!reader

Summary: 55 year old Slash finds himself infatuated on nineteen year old Y/N. You become his inspiration to remember his teenage years and the first song he learned, "Tangerine" by Led Zeppelin. The only problem is that you are his son's new friend and their neighbor.

Warnings: smut (p in v), oral sex (f receiving), curse words, slight use of daddy kink, obsession, overstimulation, unprotected sex, age gap.

"Tangerine, tangerine, living reflections from a dream, I was her love, she was my queen"

ʚ♡ɞ˚

For more than Slash has tried with an impressive will to put aside the way in which his mind ends up gravitating towards you, it's a task that turns almost as impossible to avoid as it is to breath. Daydreams are frequent, no more than actual dreams, about this one particular stunning girl that has just moved in next door with her family. You.

You’re younger than he is. A lot younger .Perhaps nineteen years old. And of course it isn’t needed to be said how wrong it is to even dare look at you this particularly intriguing way.

He understands, knows it. But how undeniably exciting it is to let himself immerse inside of this world of the unknown games and tricks he’d be very much willing to share with you.

Because at the given time and place, nothing can really stop the wicked mind tricks you, and only you know how to hurdle him with.

What sparks a very specific interest in him, what’s so mysteriously luring him in, is especially that.

Being fixated doesn't really do the honor of the praise that you deserve. Your presence itself is intoxicating. It must definitely have the power of driving him mad with tenderness, but curiosity and lust too with one simple look.

Doll looking face adorned by plump glowy skin, bambi eyes gifted with naturally beautiful eyelashes that caress your eyelids with every blink, cheesy little laugh, admiration worthy hips and legs that sway just as natural as it is for you to breathe.

It is absorbing him, drowning him of yearning. Because not only it is hard by itself to be consumed by that abyss of craving and excitement, it surely turns into a feeling he likes to visit daily. A desire that has haunted him ever since your parents had had the brilliant idea of inviting the Hudsons over for dinner.

And he doesn't quite understand if the best part is that you seem to itch to be praised. Especially by him. Only by him.

His thoughts are smothered in between a thin line of right and wrong. And or as much as he's tried to dig deep down and understand what sick little devil is pushing him into this, where exactly the root of this forbidden topic comes from, it just immediately vanishes once you come to the picture.

Not even believing that others look at you the same way that he does, helps in the slightest. Not out of jealousy, but because the simple thought of someone, anyone, savoring your presence like he does, makes his blood boil in agony.

Agony that's alleviated by the ecstasy of studying you from afar, which is enough to subside the bewildering itch.

It has become embarrassingly often the amount of times he has had to snap back into reality from daydreaming. Like a wolfish human hungry for touch.

And it really does hurt his ego mostly that all you’ve ever seen him as, is his friend's dad. Just his friend's dad. If only you ever dared to look at him in any other way, he'd be able to leave this earthly world, and still be pleased by the simple act of reciprocity.

Maybe his slight obsession roots from something deeper. Perhaps, you're everything he had ever really desired to have back during his own tender years. Whatever it is, is there.

So that's exactly why and when he finds himself stuck. Uncomfortably fidgeting the pillow over his legs. Covering his poor aching bulge that protrudes against the zipper of his black Levi jeans. Like a touch starved teenager.

Some beads of sweat dance playfully around his forehead and waltz down to his chin.

The front door lock snaps, followed by the sound of the door knob being turned and opened. C, his son, walks in with a pink backpack hanging from his shoulder blade and a newly painted smile.

The light that comes through the door almost overshadows the person that's following him. And to Slash's surprise, to his wonderful luck and surprise, it's you.

You're confident. Calm. It seems relaxed the way you expertly step over the threshold and come inside of the house. And it's almost like a slow motion mirage that turns on his radar and every single nerve on his body. Your uniform, your impeccable shoes, your amicable smile, you yourself.

He wants you. He needs you. Real fucking bad.

The smell of male cologne is striking in the house. Of course it is. But somehow it's concealed immediately by your own scent.

Coconut shampoo, wild flowers and some other sweet and intoxicating aroma. How he wishes he could sink his nose down the premises of your skin and stay there for as long as he pleases.

The sight of you being there is overwhelming. And when he feels as if he were about to drop down to his knees in surrender, you give him the most precious and well hearted smile that could have melted him right there.

Something deep down the insides of his chest warms.

Eyes still mesmerized and delighted by the sight of your presence, are enconvered with a smile, accompanied by a simple greeting. Hi.

Standing next to C, you look down to the books and markers that lay in your arms right against your chest, and smile too. One that makes his heart rush. Appreciating his greeting with sweeter hi.

Your eyes are filled with curiosity, and they travel investigating his looks. From his hair to his hands. If you could just take a look a little closer.

He’s got this beautiful beaming smile that moves the deepest feelings on your insides and arouses the strange peculiarity of eagerness. It is like it calls for you to be interested.

How can he not understand what you want? The smiles, the very much intentional flirting, the hopeless nervousness, the hair twitching, the lip biting under your pearly whites. He’s a great conveyor but the most terrible at reading what you’re trying to convey yourself.

Because despite all, lies the aching of his touch. And it's so painful it has almost become a physical pain, begging, longing, to be released.

The younger of the Hudsons, oblivious to what’s easily read in the room, announces to his father that you’ll be in the living room. Apparently to work on some senior project. Right away explaining that you’d been paired together by a teacher.

His luck was indispensable.

A thumbing energy on his crotch is begging to be released. And he can’t do anything other than take care of it by himself.

• • •

The faint sound of the guitar praising the movements of his fingers is the only thing that can be heard in the main living room. It’s quiet. And he tries to numb it with his thoughts, coming up with a master plan that can lead him once more, to you. Right in the next room.

For the past hour, he’s been nothing but splendidly kind. Offering drinks, snacks and whatever he’d find appropriate for people your age. Of course It only being an excuse to inspect the endearing way in which you’re so poignantly focused on your assignment.

And it's a true shocker. Even for himself. His first name is surely not congenially welcoming. He isn’t the one to be so used to the hospitality most people are accustomed to. But it’s different with you.

There’s this deep fondness linked to you, that makes his soft side bloom somehow.

“Dad.” C’s silhouette towers over him. He looks up from the couch. “I’ll go pick up some pizzas I ordered, is it cool if Y/N stays while I go?”

He chuckles. How could he ever be upset because of you staying? The only actual genuine feeling that flares up at this thought, is agitation.

And bewilderment at the mere thought of the way you’ve got the power to make him tremble with just the mention of your name.

“Yeah, that's cool, go ahead.” He agrees, looking down over to his guitar once more.

It is obviously not the thought of not being able to control himself. Of course he can. But it is simply nerve wrecking the thought of having so many kitchen stools, and bedrooms and couches, to please you in whatever way you’d be willing to be. As many times as he desires.

With short silent steps, he approaches the room where you’re in. His hands are shaky, sweaty. And a mix of light heartedness and excitement strikes again when you come into the picture.

You look heavenly. A calming aura surrounds you. And he can’t help but smile at the unintentionally endearing sight he has. You’re sat on the floor, supported by your knees, writing something he can’t really make out on a big poster paper. There are supplies scattered all around you. Markers, glue, glitter tubes, scissors, paper and school books. It 's a hot mess.

He wishes he could be given more time to just stand there. Tower over you and admire. Cherishing the way your delicate hand doodles flowers on the paper, how your other hand keeps the poster from moving, your slight bend that’s probably going to bruise your knees. The way that your ass pokes out and white panties peek through your skirt.

Of course there’s this urge that’s calling. And he’s eager to walk back and take you right there where you’re laying. You’d already be consumed by his lust. But it is not up to him. Desires mean nothing if they’re not reciprocated.

After pouring some water on whatever glass he finds, more fixated on keeping his mind occupied than being thirsty, he decides to corner himself in the most secluded spot of the house. His own room.

He’d be nothing but an immoral hypocrite if he said being attracted to you was wrong. Nothing has to do with age, that’s not the problem. You’re almost nearly twenty years old, but it has to do with knowing that he has already walked many paths of life, and seen many moons and suns prior to your existence.

The melodic guitar that you know all too well about, almost lures you over. Like a magic spell. And a mischievous smile draws on your face. There’s glitter and some glue residues in your fingers, so you try to shake them off before following the sound.

Calloused hands play absentmindedly with the strings. There’s a certain delicacy in the way his fingers move along. Shoulder and arm muscles flex through his short sleeved white shirt, hair too long and puffy to let you admire his face.

But he’s beautiful like this. Excitement tickles in your lower belly.

"Tangerine?" You ask. Voice coming a lot sweeter than you had wanted it to.

Brown beautiful eyes look up at you from the leather couch, dumbfounded. Some hairs still stick near his cheeks. There’s a small voice telling him ‘You’ve really gone mad, dude.’ Reality and fiction are pending from a very thin thread, and he can’t deduct which one it is.

There’s a different spark that lights up your smile. It has definitely turned into something bigger. And it lies between a playful and smug grin.

"Huh?" The tone of his question strikes excitement and an honest interest. The irony is what’s most endearing of it all. The real and only reason Tangerine’s being played, is because it reminds him of you. A walking reflection of what he had ever hoped for. “You know this song?”

He loves to mentally praise you whenever you walk, and now even more because the direction you’re taking is towards him. “Yeah, I really like it.”

Now from up close, your rosy cheeks are on full display for him to admire. And there’s this sudden urge growing to pepper them with kisses.

That’s when he somehow knows and understands what you’re doing.

It’s childish and immature for him to be this tense. He’s embarrassed of being embarrassed. How do you ace so perfectly to make his body shiver, fidget and cry out of nervousness?

"Yeah, it's a damn good song. It’s the one that taught me how to play guitar." He readjusts himself on the couch. His smile is gentle, and it somehow welcomes you, begs you, to move in just a little closer.

“I think you play that ‘damn good song’ perfectly, Mr. Hudson.” You’re not oblivious to the way he moves whenever you're around.

And using that to your own sake is admirably exciting.

“Slash” He corrects, snorting graciously. “You can call me Slash.”

“Slash.” You repeat. He might love hearing your voice pronounce his name.

You plop gracefully next to him. And it's inevitable for his eyes not to navigate from his knees to your bare legs, them being still slightly imprisoned by that black skirt you wear so vehemently. And in that tender delicate skin he fantasizes with the way they’d look tinted by lovemarks of his own.

His body is tense. And your folds palpitate embarrassingly swollen right over your panties when his muscular body speaks louder than words. More tense than you’d have ever expected.

"Would you teach me how to play?" There’s this ambiguous tone you speak with that might as well drive him insane.

The beginning of a completely different persona overflowing with ailing encouragement that causes his dick to protest against his pants once more. Veins palpitating with exasperation the sensitive skin of his engrossed length.

“Y-you’re done with your project?”

“Does it matter?” He’s gobsmacked. A compromising shift in his husky breathing. One that you don’t go unannounced of.

Your hand tucks a single black lock of hair behind his ear brightfully. Your touch does ethereal wonders, goosebumps making their way on his skin.

And when your confusing little game makes perfect sense, the shadow of his smile fades into a wolfish grin. His shiny eyes are stern. If you want him to play along with this little game, if you want to drive him mad, and lure him in any way that you want to, then so be it.

“I finished my project.” You state with an adorable pout. His cock twitches under the sound of your whiny voice. “I’ve been a good girl, I think I can receive my prize now, don’t you think?”

Is he hearing all of this correctly? His throat produces a loud husky groan that melts every nerve in your body, and he gets comfortable on the couch before inviting you in. “Hm, then c’mere doll. Let me praise you for being such a good girl.”

After he moves the hurdling guitar away from his lap, you straddle him without actually lowering yourself just yet. Eagerly supported by your soft hands over his shoulders. His skin is warm against yours, and his smile is indescribably inhumane.

With a painfully slow rate, you lower yourself against his hips. It’s erotically torturing, and keeps a feeling that lingers to the edge of ecstasy. His hips buck and his fingers tighten around the flesh of your waist expectantly, until the harsh feeling of his protruding and palpitating boner finally gets hugged by the warmth of your cunt protected with thin fabric.

Your body weight feels nice on him. It’s a new sensation, and the gasp his throat hitches is muted by his lips brushing against the tender skin of your neck.

His left hand draws a line from your waist up to your neck, and there, he holds you still, letting the intoxicating scent that your skin emanates make his eyes roll to the back of his skull. And it suddenly turns into him sniffing longingly the fabric of your shirt and the rosy skin of your cheeks that kisses under your eyes.

“You smell so good.” He praises you under his warm minty breath, loving the way that you squirm with your eyes closed. “How the hell do you smell so fucking amazing, huh?”

You grab his own hand and place it to touch your ass, and he chuckles, almost tugging you to be closer, letting you know that he will beg for you to press yourself as rough and near as you possibly can to him, whenever you’re ready.

And when you do, he holds you firmly, his chest harsh against yours. But it’s already too late, you’re too cock drunk, too dizzy, too down the rabbit hole, for it to even hurt. His other expert hand waltzes its way down to your hips, and once they’re mirroring each other, he patronizes you to move against him.

The fabric friction creates a gruff sound, mostly harsh because of his own clothing other than your cotton ruined panties. It’s slow, agonizing and curious, faster with every second that goes by. And it only causes the paradisian feeling of your plump skin to turn into a potion.

The feeling of his tongue wets your earlobe, absentmindedly fidgeting the petite butterfly earring that rests there, in between his teeth before pulling another sticky stripe of saliva down the skin of your neck. “You drive me insane. Always have.”

“Good to know” Your voice trembles when he tugs and pulls your hair slightly to see your face.

He lets go when your pretty factions position in front of his, proximity at its maximum expression. He’s paying close attention to your reactions, to the way your body moves, to the tone of your voice.

Your reflection is almost visible on his dilated pupils surrounded by a chestnut color. He enjoys the smile you give him, smile produced at the sight of his desperate eyes begging for even more closeness.

Being able to read his body language feels honorable. Your lips, —inexperienced compared to his— approach his mouth. And it’s suddenly making you nervous. A quick innocent peck gives you a taste of how it would be, could be. You giggle.

“It’s okay” His whisper caresses your lips beautifully, and his praise is more than enough to give you confidence.

So you do. His lips are even softer and feel better than you’d ever imagined.

The agony of longing and uncertainty finally seals its closure. For him, meaning lost afternoons of daydreams and fantasies, long nights of jerking off, for you meaning to leave behind all of the small plans you had made to seduce him, to make him irrevocably lose it.

His lips are sloppy, slow paced and experienced in the exact way you need them. And his tongue debuts an intertwined dance deeply down your mouth.

“Too much?” He asks breathy when you pull away, taking him by the sides of his face, some of his hair tickling your hands.

“No.” The sweet way in which your forehead rests against his, gives him back the spark of not having fucked it up.

“Sure you want this?”

“I do.” Your smile turns into a pout, one he pecks quickly.

You love the way he looks at you, no more than his touch. Lustful eyes derive from the desire of pleasing you. And it makes you feel grateful, needed, admired.

“What’s going inside of that pretty head?”

You don’t say anything. There’s nothing to be said. Your tongue, moving up and down, caresses a line that paints his slightly open lips with a coat of warm saliva. And it peeks inside when he talks.

"Let me fuck you." A single stripe of your own spit connects your lips to his, you don’t stop.

Because it’s captivating the way he begs, the way he twitches under your body that humps and rocks in circular motions, expecting to give some release to his poor clothed cock.

“Please.” He groans. “Let me make you cum, you’ll see how good I'll make you feel.” He’s begging at this point.

“How cocky” You whisper jokingly, he grunts back. “Will you really?” Pretty eyelashes bat up and down.

“I will. I will make you feel so good, pretty girl.”

Your chest melts against his once more, and your head slides all the way down to his shoulder. The soft smush of your tits stems a new sort of longing. One that makes him switch and sit you down on the couch, kneeling before you.

“Really wanna know what’s cookin’ in here.”

His lips follow a sacred trace that he’d have promised himself to follow. It goes down from your lips, to your neck and a brief giggly pause to nibble where he thought your nipples were through your shirt.

Needing more, his ringed hands hold the folds of your button up shirt, too eager to actually undo it. And once you’re topless, he nods a ‘no’ playfully towards the black bra before unclasping it.

“You dirty girl.”

From over heavy lidded eyes, you can see the smug look on his face that admires the way your tits lay against your chest, the color of your nipples, and his tongue doesn’t bother to wait a second to shows its acclaim too with circular motions caressing that oh so very sensitive area.

You like him way too much to care about being slobbered all over, more like you had waited for it for a long time that it’s actually comforting. And now that his tongue trails down the line in between your abdomen, you can’t help but reciprocate the feeling by touching his hair.

When both of his hands slither provocatively down to your legs, his mouth follows. He expertly pulls up your skirt to let you unbuckle it, now warm cunt touching and leaking down the poor leather couch.

The sight is mesmerizing, and he can’t help but stare. Your panties are adorably white, and the color gifts him the privilege of noticing that sweet damp patch flourishing right in the middle, working like a map.

He whimpers out a "You're so wet for me baby." Before kissing your inner thigh with care and affection.

Your smile is followed by a soft little whine. And you don’t quite know for which one is it. If it’s for how unexpectedly talkative —but gratifying— he is, or how heavenly his mouth feels so dangerously close to your aching hole.

“Look at you, all readied up for me.” His fingers toy with the elastic band. “Eager little thing aren’t you?”

“Quit the teasing” His eyebrows arch, you fix it. “Please”

“Who’s being cocky now” Spoiling your little brat self is fun, and so he pulls down the fabric finally revealing all of you.

Nibbling down your soft skin, his face slowly positions itself in between your legs. Salivating hungrily at the sight of your shimmering and puffed out clit.

His crotch twitches in ecstasy begging for release when he’s able to smell the sweet scent of your pussy. His fingers toy around your pubic bone and trace a line until it drops to your sensitive spot.

“You’re such a-“ Your gasp, eyelids fluttering shut once he finally moves torturously slow circles, switching both movements and speeds, figuring out whatever works best on you.

“You like that, huh.” He coos once he’s found that perfect hand movement that’s pleasing you enough to have you whimpering and tugging gently on his hair.

"Slash. I'm-I need you." Words are hard to find in between the numbing feeling of his thumbs pushing against your sensitive area, his mouth kissing you silly and your hips jolting forward when he purposely breathes heavier than usual.

“What do you say?” To tease you might as well be his new favorite things about you.

You’re so pretty like this. Heavy breaths pushing up and down your poor slobbered chest, knees almost squishing his face in a very much failed attempt of pulling him closer, lips separated by an ‘o’, eyebrows furrowed over closed eyes.

Act that only makes him genuinely laugh at how pathetic and needy you are.

“Please! Just, please, I need you.” Your body jolts and contorts beautifully when he spits on your already wet slit, a delectable twitch up your nerves.

Impatient hands play with your doughy thighs, pulling you in closer. His proximity is intoxicating. Once his nose fidgets near your slit, his lips master to taste you whole.

“Shit” You screech.

He skillfully moves his tongue. It deserves an ovation for how stern and soft paced the movements are. Ones that get to you in ways nothing has ever done before. He tries to do the same he did before, to know and understand you, to find your own pace.

and once you’re eager, this eager, there’s nothing but to hope mercy upon himself.

His shoulders flex, and his hips thrust against nothing but air expecting to find some friction.

"I know sweet thing, I know you like it just like daddy eats you." His lips slide easily against your wet skin. “Moan for me baby, let me hear those sounds your pretty throat makes just for me, yeah?”

And you do. It’s inevitable at this point after having him like this.

Desperate needs call for desperate measures, and for him, this turns into a desperately anguishing situation.

He’s a head over heels goner. And a pillow seems to be what might work at the time. The fabric fidgets clumsily when he places it in front of his groin. Your hole works wonders on him, and he’s all of the sudden humping the squishy cloth yearning for it to be your warm little cunt.

And from time to time it does feel like it.

You keep your voice from the itching feeling of insanity, but when he’s doing this, placing your legs on his shoulders while spitting, sucking, kissing and drawing such flawless circles near your now overstimulated clit accompanied by the vibrations of sporadic groans, you can’t contain it.

"Slash, r-really." You plead again.

And when he feels the way your walls clench his tongue, his next wisest move is to unbuckle the burdensome belt that holds what’s left of his undone pants.

You’re excited at the well known sound of his clicking belt being undone, and wish you could do something else rather than shake the way you’re doing.

With a greedy smile he swifts your body down onto the impeccable clean sheets of his mattress. Body sinking down immediately below his.

This close you can admire the way that charming little sweaty drops adorn his forehead like a crown, escorted by some remaining fluids that belong to you.

“You look really pretty” He adds again, as if he hadn’t said it enough. Hands swaying up and down your things expertly positioning himself in between. “….And really cock drunk”

He can’t help but bring one of his hands down and pump his veiny cock, producing the most delightful twitch with his throat. And when it brushes your plump warm flesh that attempts to suck him in, he smiles, flattening your hair with his other hand.

You love the way his lips part, like there’s a sound lingering in the tip of his throat and bobbing Adam's apple, begging to come out. But you’re starting to get bossy, and eager and impossible.

And that’s what he likes the most.

Trying to mirror the heat of what he’s doing, your hands travel mischievously down your abdomen. It’s not hard to notice by the look on your face what you’re trying to do.

“No” he scolds “I never said anything about touching yourself”

“Are you serious? You’re the biggest-“

“Just say what you want, it’s not that hard you know?” His lips chastised a kiss on your forehead, his freshly shaved chin caressing your eyelids, lips savoring the salty taste of you rewarding sweat that glorifies what he’s done so far.

“What is it baby? say it.” Velvety low voice apprehends you.

Your mouth reaches out for his when he kisses a fine line down your nose bridge. Like this, he admires the tears that well up, the red intense color that kisses your skin, and you yourself, just adore the skin of his back against your fingertips.

“Please” His tongue caresses yours, interrupting your pleading. Head bobs just slightly when he’s sucking the slippery muscle, lips vaguely touching from time to time. “fuck me already”

That specific tone you use, does wonders.

“Look at me” His commands make your head feel fuzzy. “Look at me right now.” His repeated groan is heard when your eyes meet his.

His dick lengthens to its maximum under his hand when the remains of a whimper burn through your throat.

Everything makes him sensitive now. Every little quiver of your body, every shaky breath, every touch, sound, reaction.

“I’m the biggest what?” He asks through the echo that pends between a gasp and a whisper.

And that’s when his dick stretches your cunt vulgarly and slowly. Slipping in between sticky coats of precum and fluids. Caressing every nerve that adorns your puffy walls that welcome him in. Painfully stretching and sucking the delectable feeling.

“Holy shit.” He purrs under palpitating veins that beg for release, your eyes transpire delight, and your moans become unavoidable.

He knows what you want when your body contorts under him, hips begging for something, anything."I get it baby, I know what you fucking want."

His thrusts become infallible to his smug grunts, and his hands try to release some built up impatience by tugging the sheets that surround the sides of your head.

He fills you, it’s warm and gruff, and although not as harsh as the fabric of his Levis, probably harsher in the way that it’s bigger than his fingers and your own.

“You feel so fucking good, so good for me. Aren’t you, my sweet girl?”

The reddened puffy skin of your lip tucked under your front teeth, gets released when he moves it away with his thumb. Wet tongue nuzzling the hurt area.

The bittersweet feeling of ecstasy approaches. The sound of your sticky cunt vandalizes the silence in the room. And his stupid smug grin makes another appearance. "Sweet little Y/N, fooling around with a dude twice her age"

When your fingertips are replaced by nails, you whimpers by well produced moans and he’s finally getting to the spongy spot that kisses him with each thrust, the release feels closer than ever.

It’s the feeling of a tingling burning spasm in your belly. His groans near your ear just help it build up with fondness.

"I want to hear you, let it all out" A handful of your hair curls around his fingers. The pace grows faster, the burning sensation even more.

“I’ll, I have to-“

“Go ahead doll face, cum for me, like the little whore that you are.” Your hands wrap around his slippery neck, gaping tension and speed build up. Everything seems to mix, the way he touched you, kissed you, praised your cunt. “Let me feel that sweet cum, pretty”

With growing red cheeks and hurting frown, your closed eyes find the white spotty light and your release is finally there. Glorious orgasm accompanied by a muffled moan below his shoulder.

He’s got you seeing stars.

“Such a good girl” It’s not long after that his throat cries out and his own orgasm joins yours, warm sticky cumshots filling in every lonely corner, he’s in heaven. And your shaky body’s still getting used to such gratification.

Time seems to stop when both of your bodies are reluctant to separate. More when the idea of moving away crushes him once your arms wrap around his shoulders, soft cheek pressed against his. It’s warm and sweaty, you suppose yours is too.

“I’m sweaty” he warns softly, sweetly.

“I know” you reply with the same energy, pulling him in closer.

His heavy still twitchy breath is powerful, and sends stubborn goosebumps that react immediately against your skin. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him, so he’s now gently caressing as many limbs of your body as his hand can get to. More affectionate than anything else.

You feel limp, soft, squishy. Like if you had just melted in his arms as fudgy chocolate would.

The way he wipes your legs and still-overstimulated area, warms your chest. Something deep down inside.

There’s this unexplored touch starved after taste that feels quite new. Even now that he’s kneeled in front of you, letting you support yourself with his shoulders whilst his hand ties your worn out shoe laces.

"All done, pretty."

His inform is followed by a line of wet pecks up your leg, very light stubble tickling your skin.

Onces he’s up again, your head falls to plop against his chest, and his hand, always welcoming, always sweet, strokes your head as if he were studying every single strand of hair that grows from your scalp.

You hum, pleased. Pleased as in if you stop doing that, I will die.

There’s a particular fond apprehension that lies beneath his heart. It lingers to the bottled up feelings that were released not too long ago. And he wonders, faintly, if there’s something more, maybe deeper, that lurks and yearns for you to be close.

"You know? I didn’t really finish my project." Your interrupting whisper makes him laugh.

Your slight worry of him being upset vanishes with the sound of your own laugh. One that he commends with a half hug, half squish before pulling away. And it’s hard to do so, like if it had produced the sound of velcro being forced apart.

You love it when his hands are still touching you, gently holding your shoulders. And that innocent playful smile he adores is joined by red cheeks and dreamy eyes. He knows as clearly as he’ll die, that if he’d ever become upset with you, it'll be because he’s gone completely bonkers.

"It's okay sweets, you still deserved the prize anyway."

And just like a magnet, not composing himself just yet, his same grip pulls you in close enough for a second round of heart warming, gut wrenching hugs.

And when you’re there, absentmindedly stroking his back, immersed by his cologne that still ornaments his shirt, and his hand appraising the curve of your back, your smile is honest, bright, and sets free the real meaning behind the burning warmth of his proximity.

You want him to stay for good.

ʚ♡ɞ

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Also! May I request some baby fever hcs for tan? It could be any genre you want. Sorry for spamming again, this will be the last request I send, promise. 💺 anon

hii!! ofc ofc! thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

…

pregnancy hc’s

tangerine x fem!reader

word count: 744

✧.┊ MASTERLIST

✧ firstly, this man is a girl dad. that's it, nice and simple. but that doesn't mean he only wants a girl. he just suits being a dad to a little girl. BUT I do think he'd also look great as a boy dad. he doesn't care what gender the baby is, as long as it's yours, his and healthy. he'd just look great as a dad in general, cough cough preferably as the father to mine. I'm just kidding (no, I'm not)

✧ but with his job, he's always had doubts about starting a family. so I think the idea of having a baby has always been up to fate. like you don't plan it, but you'd be happy either way. you go with the flow, if it happens, it happens. if it doesn't, it doesn't

✧ he's also had doubts about being a father, as he was a foster kid, he's always thought that he isn't made for fatherhood. but you've seen the way he is with babies and kids in your family, so you know he has it in him to be a great dad. you also reassure him with all of his doubts, which he massively appreciates

✧ but when you told him the news you were expecting, you were soft and gentle when announcing it, it was also private and special. you told him, then he gave you a hug, kisses etc, then he called lemon. he might have been tearing up a little, and lem was VERY VERY happy for you both, you could hear him from tan's phone (probs shouting and congratulating a lot)

✧ he'd be AMAZING helping you through the first trimester, just a doll. helping you with morning sickness (as best as one could) would manage your mood swings like a champ (he's got tough skin, he can take it) would do things for you when you feel tired. would get you ALL the foods you're craving, and get rid of all the things and foods that makes you want to vom

✧ during the second, he'd cream your tummy with lotions and ointments, massage you if and when you feel sore and swollen. would continue to do things for you, get things for you

✧ in the third, he'd probably be the most helpful and reassuring. he knows that by now you're over being pregnant, so he'd be the support and cheer you along for the last mile. he knows that you hurt and he wishes he could do more for you. he helps wash and dress you, put on your shoes, and just anything that you can't do yourself. guides you to the bathroom if you're having trouble

✧ he's helped you practice everything. gone to classes, workshops, and yoga sessions. booked the thing with the exercise balls. helped to work on your breathing. did practice drills. became a pro at doing the nappies

✧ he knows that he might be smothering you, but he just wants to be there for you. so if you tell him to leave you alone, he takes it with a grain of salt

✧ reassures you constantly, tells you how he's never going to leave you etc

✧ he bought lots of pregnancy and baby books !! (primarily for himself)

✧ when it comes to labour, he might be the opposite, he knows that he has to be your support and rock etc. but I feel like it all gets real for him, and he's a bit of a mess (not in a bad way) just a little uncoordinated and uneasy. but he snaps back into it and back to his usual self, and helps you breathe, pats you down, adjusts your gown, pushes your hair back. anything he thinks you need

✧ he'd definitely cry

✧ and when the little bambino is born, he'd be the most protective and vigilant (watching over baby while they're getting cleaned and weighed, making sure nothing happens) then once he knows they're safe, he's back at your side. telling you how proud of you he is, how well you did

✧ you get the first hold (he turned it down, bc you did the hard work you should hold them first) he'd kiss your forehead and stroke your arm while you hold the baby

✧ if it's a girl, he tells you how she's so beautiful and that she looks like you. and if it's a boy, you tell tan how he's so handsome and that he looks like him

✧ the best little family <3

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

tuxedo iii, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader

summary: It’s the next morning. Your cat is still a man. Fuck. He still thinks he owns the place, including you. Sigh. Well, you still have to do your job, because, yikes, your cat-man has spent a small fortune on new clothes (spending like he’s got a black card, what’s up with that?). Ah, but... maybe both of you are starting to finally acknowledge that he might be a more man than cat – at least for the time being...?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; mentions of and a tiny bit of smut (fem reader, spanking, doggy, unintentional??? voyeurism, dry humping / thigh riding); domestic and soft moments with your cat-man; non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft slightly cocky Jeon Jungkook (+drama!!!) and bestfriend!Kim Seokjin; breaking of the fourth wall; are YOU a furry? yeah, I kinda think you are

*deep breath* I reference a certain boat that was stuck in the Suez Canal, Yoongi's livestream where he poked himself in the nose with the coffee straw, his love for tangerines, too many Twitch chat memes, that time his mom called him a boiled dumpling, 'BST' pink pajama Yoongi, DTS, TXT's 'Cat & Dog', etc...

–

part i | part ii

-

You woke up slowly. 

A perfect, peaceful morning. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Neck cradled by your memory foam pillow? Check. Back well supported by your soft mattress? Check. Not sleeping on your sofa and destroying your spine? Check. Hey, you’re moving up in life! Ah, what a normal day already. You opened your eyes a crack; vision blurred from the morning sunlight filtering through your curtains. Bundled in your minty-green duvet? Check. Wearing your extra soft black-and-white striped pajamas? Check. 

Large pale human hand firmly gripping your right titty? Check. 

Wait… 

What?

Your eyes snapped open and flew to your left. 

Min Yoongi's face was centimeters from yours, buried into your pillow, messy bedhead sticking out everywhere. Black choker with the tiny silver bell around his neck. Still had those black velvety pointed cat ears and glowing pale skin, pretty pink lips ever-so-slightly upturned, warm exhale against your ear. 

Your cat still a disturbingly handsome man?

Ah, yup, check. 

His hand was on your right breast, fingers molded to the soft curve. A quick glance and, whew, he was still fully dressed in his black t-shirt and sweatpants from yesterday. Yes, fully, completely dressed. Shit, what if he caught you staring? You quickly flickered your eyes up at the ceiling, hastily wiping the drool away from your mouth. Whoa there. That would be embarrassing if he caught that.

Also, kind of gross. Don’t be gross. Keep it together.

Hahaha…

Well, yup, this was still awkward, the whole hand-on-the-titty thing, hahaha, but not as awkward as it would be if, hahaha, you accidentally, oh, don't know, hahaha, got really, really, really disgustingly drunk and, hahaha, had somehow lost all impulse control and, hahaha, fucked your cat?

Man.

Cat-man. 

Hahaha, that would never happen. You’d make sure of that.

... 

Unless?

No, no, no, stop, he's your cat, your cat, he's literally been a (cat) man for one fucking day, albeit a incredibly hot, deliciously built (cat) man who put your facial massager on your nipple and let you touch his human dick in the shower and he was hard for a hot second, so... no, no, no, stop, you are not a desperate thot, get a fucking grip – well, you kind of are – but not him, for fuck’s sake, you still don't understand what the fuck is going on or if he even remotely likes you and, let's face it, he probably doesn’t because you almost paid a guy to chop off his nuts–

"Are you dying?"

You choked on air and lurched sharply at the sudden deep, raspy voice. The grip on your right breast tightened, preventing you from moving away. You did what any sensible human being would do in this situation and wheezed like you were on the verge of passing out. 

"Urk!"

"Do you have high blood pressure?" Yoongi yawned calmly, turning his face to the side to avoid breathing in your face, thereby pressing his body even closer to you. Your neck and ears heated to five billion degrees. "Your heart's beating abnormally fast. Maybe you should see a doctor."

You definitely needed to see a doctor for something as well as several gallons of holy water and a priest to get an exorcism for that horny demon inside you. 

"Y-Your hand!"

Yoongi grunted. "What about it?"

What about it???

"It's on my tits!" you squeaked.

Yoongi lifted his head, squinting. "It is." Then his head dropped and he closed his eyes again. 

HELLO, Min Yoongi? That's ALL you have to say???

"Is there a problem?"

IS THERE A PROBLEM???????

"I've always slept like this," he mumbled.

That's... true though. Your tuxedo cat, previously named Shooky until you realized he had his own name, did used to always sleep next to you, when he wasn’t trying to murder you by sitting on your chest, that is (he was adamant on letting you know when he needed breakfast). Usually, your cat was splayed out by your left side, his long body extended and pressed against you, his white, sock-like paws encircling your arm. Shooky had basically been a small furry heater that kicked you sometimes in his sleep. 

Keyword: small.

"Y-You w-were a cat!" you sputtered.

"I'm still a cat."

"No, you're a man! With arms!"

"The reach is a little farther. Who cares?"

WHO CARES???????

Before you could very loudly inform Yoongi who exactly cared – that’s you, by the way, yes, you – he wrapped his arms around you and yanked your body to his, turning you into a red-hot chili pepper with the amount of heat your face was now emitting. Then his free hand grabbed your other titty. Without asking! Without even so much as buying you dinner or, hell, giving you a goddamn cracker! You didn't need to be wined and dined, but at least a single fucking snack before using your tits like his own personal stress ball!

Yoongi pressed your back into his chest.

You froze. 

He pressed his crotch into your ass, shivering slightly.

Your soul left your body. 

"Ugh, this human body is terrible," Yoongi muttered. "Always so cold. I need this extra body heat or I'll die."

You'll die? YOU’LL DIE?

You were pretty sure that you were already dead. Rest in peace.

Hang on. 

Something was stuck in a very specific place, quite similar to a far-too-large boat in a narrow canal.

"Um."

Er...

"What?" your cat-man grunted.

"Your..." You gulped. "Dick."

"What about it?"

"You, uh... have morning wood."

"Is that a human euphemism?" he grumbled impatiently, clear annoyance in his tone. "I don't understand your species. Wouldn't it be easier to be straightforward and explain yourself clearly?"

A muscle in your eye twitched, reaching breaking point.

"Your dick is rock-hard and you're shoving it between my ass cheeks!"

"Yeah, so? It's cold too."

Your irritation fizzled out at Yoongi’s self-assured, completely calm response. In fact, he sounded borderline bored and exasperated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His hard dick was cold, so he put it in the warmest place he could find, your ass, duh. Nothing weird about it, of course. Your mind reeled, unable to compute what the fuck was going on. Thus, your body did what it did best in these moments where you did not want to give a response that would most certainly expose you and your dire need to get dicked.

Not deal with it, of course.

You fainted.

-

"Fuck!"

You shot out of bed at the harsh yell, tangled in the covers, barely registering that Yoongi no longer had a death grip on your tits – in fact, he was no longer in bed at all – and stumbled towards the source of the sound, highly disoriented, your earlier fainting spell turning you into a bumbling mess.

Admittedly, not that different from your usual self.

(Ouch, roasted.)

"What, what, what?" you croaked, running into the doorframe of the bedroom and nearly taking yourself out. 

Might as well, maybe it would have been a blessing in disguise, considering the way your life was going. 

You finally tumbled your way to the kitchen, where your cat-man was hissing at the pan on the stove. 

"I was trying to make eggs," Yoongi spat, pointing accusingly at the frying pan. His ears were flat and his tail was sticking straight up. "And then it attacked me."

If you had three functioning brain cells, you would have remembered Yoongi putting his morning wood between your ass cheeks this morning, but alas, you only had two at the moment – you did run into the doorframe, might have lost one there – so instead you nudged him aside and rolled up your sleeves, taking the pan and shaking it so the eggs wouldn't burn. 

"Was it the oil? Sometimes it pops," you asked as Yoongi continued death glaring at the pan.

"I saw you doing this yesterday. You didn't seem bothered," he mumbled, finishing with a low, angry hiss as if the pan was sentient and mocking him. The oil popped and seared your forearm, but at this point you maybe had five hair follicles total on your arms with how many times hot oil had splattered in you. It used to bother you when you were a kid, but years of cooking had desensitized the feeling, turning it to nothing more than a mere annoyance. Yoongi stayed behind you, intermittently letting out hisses of rage as you cooked.

"I told you, my dad's a chef. You get used to it," you said, tipping the pan and flipping the thin egg pancake with ease. 

"That's bizarre," Yoongi muttered. "No normal animal gets used to pain."

Normality was starting to become a bit of a foreign concept to you.  As for being an animal, well…

You took the pan off the heat and rolled the egg onto a plate with a spare set of chopsticks, turning it into a log shape. A literal egg roll, ready to be sliced into bite-sized pieces. You took a sniff. It seemed to be seasoned already. Had Yoongi simply copied what you did yesterday? His observation skills were insane.

"Then again, you seem to enjoy–"

"Yoongi," you blurted, not wanting to know what he thought you seemed to enjoy, but very sure it was going to be one-hundred-percent embarrassing and only for you. "There's some leftover beef and vegetables in the fridge you can have with the egg and rice."

He raised his eyebrows. "Beef? Why didn't you say so earlier?"

Because I was asleep and maybe half-dead? "Did you brush your teeth?' you asked suddenly. 

Yoongi scowled. "Unfortunately."

"Right, so should I, goodbye now."

You marched away hurriedly, trying not to think about how your cat had surely witnessed you getting spanked while being fucked from behind by none other than, surprise, surprise, his not-so-favorite human being, Jeon Jungkook. Tattoo guy strikes again. The worst part was, you couldn't lock the door on your cat either, because then he would meow incessantly while you were getting deep-dicked and that was even worse. 

"Your cat really likes you, huh?" Jungkook mused as you yanked open the bedroom door to the black-and-white tuxedo furball. 

"Like is a strong word," you muttered at your cat, who yawned and sauntered past you to his cat tree, acting like he owned the damn place. 

"I like you."

"Hah... wait, what?"

Jungkook grinned as your eyes found his. Took a while. You were a little distracted by his nakedness. His tattoos up his right arm. His tan skin. His muscles. His white teeth biting on his lower lip, tiny mole underneath flashing. His long black hair, framing dark chocolate eyes and teasing, cocked eyebrow. 

"I like you," he repeated, voice deep and sexy.

You turned red and made the most coherent noise you could. 

“... Urk?”

“Noona.”

Why did he look so fucking hot and disrespectful at the same time when saying an honorific?

Jungkook came up to you, hand cupping your head and tangling his fingers in your hair. He brought his face close to yours, lips brushing against your swollen ones, taking your breath away.

"Wanna go back to me spanking you while you get off on my dick?"

Respectfully, of course. 

"How much rice do you want?"

You started, poking yourself in the nose with your toothpaste-covered toothbrush and smearing mint up your nostril – almost as bad as poking a coffee straw up your nose during a livestream in front of millions of people, yikes – as Yoongi appeared behind you, breaking you out of the memory. Your cat-man watched you with mild disgust and displeasure as you coughed and dunked your head into the sink, hurriedly rinsing off your burning nose.

"Whatever, I'll just fill it halfway."

And he left you sputtering, pajamas and hair soaking wet in your haste.

Awesome. 

-

“I’m ordering some groceries,” you announced in between bites of rice and egg. You tapped lightly at the phone screen as you spoke. Green onions, tofu, cucumbers… “Do you want anything?”

“Meat.”

You swiped rapidly and added packages of chicken, pork, and beef into your cart. Why the fuck not? You like meat. All kinds of–

“Yes, Yoongi, I’m getting meat. Anything else?”

“What else is there?”

You made a face and handed him your phone. “All sorts of things. Household products too, in case you don’t want to smell like my soap.”

“Your soap is preferable,” he said absentmindedly, scrolling through the online grocery app. You continued eating, shoving things in your mouth and none of it dick. Sad. At least it tasted good. Your cat-man had seasoned the egg well. You jumped as Yoongi spoke again. “I want these.” He turned the phone around.

You squinted at the screen, staring at a picture of orange balls. “Tangerines? Why?”

He turned the phone back to him. “They’re small, round, and look tasty.”

You blinked at him, then shrugged. “Sure, why not? I guess your palette might have changed. Try whatever you want.”

He pursed his lips and pressed a few buttons as you ate. You realized you needed to order more groceries now that your cat was a man eating your human food and no longer a cat eating his rather expensive cat food. Sigh. You had put Shooky’s cat bowls in a cabinet earlier this morning before sitting down to eat. It seemed weird leaving them out on the floor like that. Kind of offensive, maybe, now that your cat was a man and all…

“Okay, I ordered it.”

“Ah, okay, that’s good. They’ll probably come later this week.”

-

After breakfast, you spent nearly half an hour with Yoongi trying to pick out something for him to watch from your various streaming services, only for him to select a historical drama series. Like what? You cat (man) wanted to watch historical drama out of all things? Instead of learning about the modern world, he wanted to watch a depiction of the past?

Whatever, it had seventy-seven episodes, so at least he would be occupied for a while.

You let him be and went to your computer, intending on getting some editing done. Sure, the universe decided your cat was a man now, but you still needed to pay for said cat-man’s existence. You still didn’t know what you were going do to with all that cat food, cat toys, cat tree… ugh, this was all a problem for future you, not present you.

Present you needed to splice five-hundred images of PepeHands together and overlay it over a League of Legends one-shot compilation.

Uh, so, it was this meme of a green frog named Pepe holding up his anthropomorphic hands in despair, therefore coining the term PepeHands for a particular Twitch chat emote… never mind, it just meant you were spending some time video editing for a gaming YouTuber and it required concentration, shitty memes, and well-timed captions. And you were getting paid good money to do this.

Yeah, it’s a weird world.

You sat at your desktop and got to work, doing the rough cuts of the video first. Thankfully, the YouTuber had already sent you the timestamps of the noteworthy moments, therefore making your job a lot easier. You spent several hours compiling the clips before adding your extra flair and effects. You had a library of images and sound bites that you commonly used (including Goofy singing Evanescence's ‘Bring Me to Life’) and was in the middle of grayscaling a video clip and adding the familiar audio of all around me are familiar faces before being scared shitless.

“Woof.”

You swore someone was singing ‘Mad World’ as they were narrating your life right now.

“Gah!”

You jerked in your seat to see Yoongi leaning over behind you, eyebrow raised as you gawked at him.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you exclaimed, pulling back an earcup of your headset.

He frowned. “How can I sneak up on you?” He flicked the silver bell on the black choker around his neck, making it jingle cheerfully. “You put stupid thing on me, remember?”

You winced. “Well, I’d take it off, but there’s some kind of voodoo magic on that shit – and hey, don’t change the subject! You have that weird cat thing where you’re silent no matter what.”

Yoongi looked unbothered. “Weird cat thing? Thought you said I was a man?”

“Thought you said you were a cat?” you shot back.

You glared at him and he gave you a blank expression. Then he cocked his head to your desk.

“Your phone is flashing.”

You jerked your head to see your phone screen flicker. You grabbed it off you desk and unlocked it, checking your messages. Five messages from – ah, but of course – your best friend. Kim Seokjin.

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

LET ME SEE YOUR CAT

You pursed your lips. With the pandemic and all, you hadn’t visited Seokjin in forever, but every week he would text you, asking for a photo of your cat and he would send you a picture of his sugar glider. With every week being the same and nothing interesting of note happening, it was hard to think of conversation topics. Therefore, Seokjin and you came up with this weekly event so your friendship wouldn’t deteriorate. Also, both of you were serious introverts, so he spent most of this pandemic playing MapleStory while you spent most of it on your couch watching Netflix with your cat. It was a miracle you two hadn’t morphed into actual potatoes yet.

You glanced at Yoongi, who was inspecting his nails and picking at them. You frowned and batted at his hand. He frowned back and smacked yours, harder. You glared at him. He gave you a vacant stare, as if he had done nothing.

“Why are you picking at your cuticles?” you muttered, going back to your phone and sending Seokjin an old picture of Shooky. You couldn’t exactly send him a picture of current Shooky. He was… well, currently not a cat. You stared at the picture of the fluffy tuxedo cat curled into a ball, asleep in your lap on the couch.

That moment wasn’t even that long ago.

Somehow, it felt like ages since you had last petted that furry butt.

“Hm, dunno. Occupies my hands, I guess,” Yoongi replied distractedly.

“Well, you shouldn’t. It’s not good for you.” You noticed you had another message from the local delivery service, saying a package had arrived at your doorstep. You stood, placing your phone on the desk and looked at Yoongi, who was staring at his old cat tree, the one by the window. When he was a cat, he used to poke his head between the curtains and look outside, watching the birds. It was his favorite haunt.

Now…

“Why’d you say woof?” you asked abruptly, giving him a quizzical look. “I thought you were a cat.”

Yoongi shrugged, tearing his eyes away from the cat tree to give you an uninterested stare. “Thought it would surprise you more. You’ve heard meow for long enough.”

You furrowed your brow. “Why would you want to surprise me?”

He shrugged again. “I was bored.”

“… You were bored so you decided to sneak up and scare the shit out of me?”

He paused, black tail swishing back and forth, pointed ears perked. Then he nodded.

“Yup.”

Sigh.

-

You lugged in the huge cardboard box, Yoongi standing out of sight of the front door as you huffed and puffed with your weak arms. Okay, it wasn’t even that big, but it was quite heavy and you weren’t exactly John Cena. Your arms were about as strong as a bowl of overcooked ramyeon noodles and that was putting it kindly. You weren’t the working out type. People who worked out diligently were dog people. People who preferred sleeping as their primary workout regimen had cats. What were the kinds of people who had cat-men then? The kind of people who like sleeping, but also needed a…

(You already know the answer.)

Yoongi snapped the door closed the second you managed to pull it on far enough to do so.

“You look like a boiled dumpling,” he commented.

“At least I’m delicious food,” you wheezed, inspecting the box. You recognized the clothing brand. “Is this the stuff your ordered? How did it come so fast?”

“I selected next-day delivery.”

You paled.

“I need clothes as soon as possible, don’t I? Or should I go back to being naked, since you’re a pervert?”

You choked, ears burning. “I’m not a pervert!”

“Mhm.”

You tried not to think about the hit on your wallet as you grabbed your keys from the side table and opened the box, seeing all the plastic packages inside. Monotone, in white or black. Figures. You tipped the box to the side and the clothes spilled out, tumbling all over the floor. It took a firm shake to dump it all on the ground. You got on your hands and knees to spread them out, tossing the cardboard aside carelessly to shift through the items. Hopefully, Yoongi had read the listings and selected the correct sizes. From your brief glance, you noticed the tops were quite oversized. Maybe he liked that fit? He had been quite a fluffy cat.

You spotted the packing slip with all the prices listed. You fished it out and then heard a thunk-thunk-thunk, the sound of cardboard on hardwood. Huh?

You looked up to see Yoongi swatting the box around.

“What… are you doing?”

He shrugged. “Investigating.”

You blinked. “Investigating what?”

“Don’t know. I simply feel the need to investigate, thus I am doing so.”

You stared at Yoongi for several minutes as he continued to… uh, investigate (???) the cardboard box, holding it this way and that, smacking it around, watching the flaps bounce in the air as it rolled. His velvety ears perked upwards, sleek black tail swishing with interest.

His expression was completely neutral.

For the first time since becoming a human, you thought Yoongi was more cat than man.

“Uh… okay…”

You glimpsed down to the paper in your hands, seeing the total cost.

You felt the color drain out of your face.

My… wallet…

F in the chat.

You fainted.

-

You felt someone poking you in the head.

“Are you dead?”

You gasped and jerked up like a drown victim coming up for air, still in mild shock of the sudden financial hit of your cat becoming a man. It was okay. You weren’t poor. You just didn’t expect Yoongi to be a shopping like he owned a fucking black card.

“Did I spend too much?”

You snapped out of your stunned state at his soft tone. Yoongi wasn’t looking at you. He was kneeling on top of the pile of clothes, dark eyes on the paper in your shaking hands. With a start, you realized his words were heavy with guilt, his ears pointing downwards and tail tucked against the ground.

“No,” you said quickly, putting the receipt down. “No, Yoongi. I asked you to buy clothes, remember? And besides, it’s better for you to buy things you like and are interested in, rather than me wasting money on things you’ll never wear.”

He raised his head a little, eyes darting from your face to your hands.

You smiled at him, reaching up to pat his head and stroke the fur on his ears. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s only money. Money will never be more important to me than you, okay?”

For a second, you saw something flicker in Yoongi’s eyes. It was so fast that you barely caught it. Relief? Gratitude? Fondness? Then he ticked his head out of your hand, fair cheeks flushing pink.

“You… you don’t have to do that,” he muttered.

“O… oh.” For some reason, you felt a pang in your chest at his words. “R-right.”

Yoongi made eye contact with you, dark brown orbs guarded. He spoke quietly, without emotion.

“Do you wish this never happened?”

“What?” You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean?”

He gestured to himself, waving a hand up and down carelessly. “This. Human me.”

Human me.

You answered instantly.

“No.”

Yoongi gave you the disbelieving side-eye.

You let out a sheepish puff of air. “I always kind of wished you were human.” You scratched the back of your head aimlessly. “No one listened to me like you did. Even if I was having the shittest day of all time, you always made it better. You were the best cat ever.” You chuckled, smiling up at him. “Sure, your species changed, but you’re still the same, right?”

His eyes shifted, his cheeks still a light pink. “I’m still a cat,” he mumbled awkwardly.

You raised your brows. “Mhm, is that why you were playing with the box?”

“I wasn’t playing with the box,” Yoongi huffed, sounding insulted.

“Then I’ll break it down and recycle it.”

“No,” he snapped firmly. “It’s useful. We’re keeping it.”

“We don’t need a box, Yoongi.”

He tutted. “Hmph, humans. So wasteful. A perfectly good box should be reused.”

“Right.”

You tried to hide your laugh as Yoongi refused to look you in the eye.

-

You left Yoongi to examine his new wardrobe on the floor. You tried to pick them up but he stubbornly remained on the pile of clothes, not letting you move them. When you stood up to leave, you asked him when he was going to move – he replied with, "When it feels right", just cat things, you supposed – and hurried off to export the edited video you were working on earlier. The due date was today and you had to review it for quality.

A certain quality. 

A certain quality of... of... 

Needing the money.

Because your cat (man) had spent fat chunk of it on clothes, only to be more interested in the box they came in and sitting on said clothes rather than the actual items themselves. 

Sigh. 

-

"I ordered the wrong color."

"Oh?" you muttered distractedly, clocking on the export button. You'd been going cross-eyed for the past two or three hours – had it really been that long? shit – and checked your phone to see Gukmul, Seokjin's white sugar glider, peering up at the camera on a white fluffy blanket. You smiled, typing a response to praise his cuteness, completely ignoring the fact that Seokjin had also stuck his handsome face in the photo, smiling with a thumbs-up next to his pet. 

The reply was instant. 

hello, acknowledge my BEAUTIFUL FACE

You deliberately didn't answer right away to piss Seokjin off even more. 

"What's wrong with it?" you asked, looking up. 

Your jaw dropped. 

You dropped your phone. 

Yoongi, your cat-man with excellent reflexes, made absolutely no move to catch it. 

It smacked you in the calf and hit your toes – fucking ow, holy shit – before clattering to the floor. You had a protective phone case on it with a cute tuxedo cat graphic. The screen wouldn't crack with the protector on it. In this moment, however, you didn't give a shit about your smartphone, Kim Seokjin, or even the blinding pain in your foot. Nope. 

You were ogling at Min Yoongi in pink silk pajamas.

-

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to–

Oi!

No, don't you dare scroll past! You think you're clever or something?! Hm? Advertisements always happen at the most crucial parts, you say? 

This is just an ad? 

Look here, Lemona Vitamin C Powder can provide a lot of benefits, including providing natural energy and boosting your immune system in, say, a worldwide pandemic–

STOP TRYING TO SCROLL PAST!!!

-

Jeon Jungkook stared at his phone. 

At a very specific number. 

He put it down, sighing a little, looking out the window instead. It was a nice day, but he couldn't enjoy it the way it was meant to be enjoyed. Pandemic and all that. He frowned, looking at the urban jungle surrounding him. Had he made a mistake moving here to the big city? Sometimes he wondered. Back then, he had moved to finish school and pursue his ambitions. Back then, his choice had seemed full of opportunities, but now.

What did he have, really?

A tiny apartment with a kind and understanding landlord. The world at his fingertips from his computer. Still a decent amount of savings left. Online courses that he needed to finish to get his film degree. 

Loneliness.

He delved into his memories, smiling at the recollection of confused looks, awkward smiles, indignant huffs. So very unlike him to tease so much, but it was too fun and he hadn't felt the usual nervousness and shyness he had around others. There was something comforting about that smile, that apartment, and that fluffy tuxedo cat that loved to interrupt everything. 

He shouldn't have played it off.

He shouldn't have distracted.

Not after he admitted it.

"I like you."

Jungkook said it to the air, to the memory. So vivid that he reached out to touch those lips, but then it all disappeared, just like that. 

Ah.

He looked at the back of his phone, wondering. But now he was too nervous and shy to pick it up again. Why was that? When he was there, being seen by those surprised eyes, he could do and say shameless things. But far away, when he was alone, Jungkook was hesitating, suddenly afraid.

Sigh. 

-

You sneezed. 

Very loudly and jerking your head away from your cat-man in luxurious pink silk, jamming your nose into your elbow.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. 

You sniffed, rubbing your nose. 

"Someone must be thinking about me..." you muttered. 

Yoongi looked down, plucking the collar of the pajamas. "The cotton shirts are the same size, but for some reason this one fits tighter. Why is that? Is there no regulated sizing in human fashion?"

Dude, be glad you're not a girl, you thought dryly. "Might be the fabric," you coughed distractedly. Distractedly because you were staring at quite possibly the most gorgeous man in the history of men and you stared at a lot of men in your short lifetime, so you had experienced eyeballs.

Wait. 

Man or cat-man?

Well, Yoongi was definitely the most gorgeous cat-man considering you were pretty sure there was only one in current existence.

His pointed ears stood straight up in interest, black hair messy from taking clothes on and off, fair cheeks and nose flushed pink, perhaps from physical exertion. Dark brown eyes sheepish, not quite looking at you. The black leather choker stood out on his neck, silver bell gleaming against his collarbones. The material was a mauve-pink silk, clinging to his lean body, showing off his shoulders and long limbs. The button-up shirt created a rather deep v-neckline, a sliver of pale chest visible. And his legs! His slim legs reminded you of a nimble dancer, ending in fuzzy black slippers. 

There was a weird lump in one of the pant legs, going down his thigh. 

Whoa. 

"W-Why did you pick them?" you tried to ask in the least awkward way possible, attempting – and failing – to not to stare at his delectable thighs. 

Yoongi shrugged. "They looked like the ones you have. I meant to get black, but I suppose I didn't read the listing closely enough. They're comfortable though," he mused before making a face. Your eyes bulged as there was a sudden jerk in his pants, creating a large tent in the crotch. 

Alarms sounded off in your head, arousal shooting up like a rocket. 

Oh. 

Oh??? 

Oh!!!!!!!

"My tail is stuck," Yoongi grunted, lowering the back of the pink silk pants. The sleek black cat tail slid out, swishing in the air, tent in his pants gone. 

Oh…

Right. The tail.

Because he's a cat... man.

Your inner thot was sad. Your dignity smacked you upside the head, highly disappointed in you for falling for that, then calmly shot down your arousal rocket with your shame. Oof.

"Can you show me how to sew so I can fix my own clothes from now on?" Yoongi asked as he readjusted the front of the silk shirt. 

You bent down to pick up your phone, trying to do something with your face and hands to disguise your embarrassment and burning ears. "Yeah, of course." You placed it on your desk and turned back to face him. 

Yoongi was right next to you. 

Literally so close that you could feel his body heat. 

"... Urk!"

You jumped in your seat, banging your knee against your desk and howling in pain, computer chair rolling and making you lose your balance, ass about to slip before Yoongi grabbed your chair and shoved it into the table, making you trip and fall back into the seat, head hitting the headrest a little too hard, seeing stars and rubber duckies for a second. 

Wait, were they rubber duckies? They were white and glittery, almost as if they were made from snow…

Yoongi slapped you in the face.

“Ow!”

You rubbed your cheek, blinking rapidly to clear your vision before glaring at him.

“Checking if you were alive,” was his placid response.

Alright, it wasn’t that hard, but the unexpectedness of it still hurt. You frowned, only for the pain to slowly melt away, quickly being replaced by something else as you realized Yoongi was still half-leaning over you, a knee on your computer gaming chair to prevent it from rolling. The sting in your knee was temporarily forgotten. Yoongi spoke again, his voice low and deep, almost a sensual purr.

“You hit yourself pretty hard.”

He doesn’t know what’s he’s doing. It’s just a coincidence. A kitty-incidence, Seokjin would say.

Your eyes widened as Yoongi closed in, peering at your unfocused gaze. Now you could see down his shirt. Holy shit. Were you so deprived that you were getting mad horny from seeing Yoongi’s fucking clavicle and sternum?

Is that even a question?

Yes.

Yes, you were.

“You look like you did last night.”

“What?” you breathed, still unabashedly looking down his shirt.

“Your pupils are dilated.”

You froze. His cool fingertips were on your neck.

“Heartrate increased.”

You wanted to pull back, say, no, wait, don’t do that, but Yoongi was too close and his exhale was too feathery, brushing against your lips, and you couldn’t move, trapped in your chair, between him wrapped in pink silk and your mind reeling, him still playing fucking doctor while you were trying not to jump his half-covered ass.

“And that smell.”

You finally tore your gaze away, eyes drifting up to his.

You swallowed.

“S… smell?”

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

Ohnoohshitwhatifhecansmellmypus–

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, surveying you closely. He was so close you couldn’t see his lips, only his dark brown orbs. He didn’t say anything. He smelled like your soap, reminding you of his naked body pressed against you in the shower. Your heartbeat was leaping to your throat, threatening to choke you with your own horniness. Honestly, at this point, would you even be surprised?

You chuckled nervously, clinging onto your last shreds of self-preservation, which, admittedly, were rapidly yeeting out of your hands.

“Hahaha… but you’re… a cat… yeah?”

Right?

Seconds passed.

Right???

Minutes passed.

RIGHT???????

Yoongi’s lashes lowered, not quite looking at your eyes. Staring at your lips.

“I’m a man too,” he whispered softly.

Your eyes widened.

Yoongi kissed you.

You were so shocked that you swore your eyes nearly left your head.

It was a soft kiss, his eyes closed, tilting his head slightly to fit better against yours, pressing you back into your chair. Your head hit the headrest and you gasped, your tongue lightly flicking his lips and they parted, his own tongue sliding against yours, gentle licks, your brain malfunctioning, but body remembering, hands coming up to grab his shirt and yank him closer, pressing back against him. He backed up a little at your suddenness, exhaling hard. Your eyes snapped open, suddenly aware of how forceful you were.

Yoongi looked away, pointed black ears flicking back and forth uneasily.

You kissed your cat. Man. Cat-man.

He’s been a man for not even two days and you just tried to make out with him like a demented beast!

“A-ah, Yoongi, no, I’m so sorry, I-I… please, I didn’t mean to…” you stuttered, letting go of him quickly, but also not wanting to let go, but you should, your hands getting confused by your mental signals, repeatedly clasping and unclasping the pink silk, not realizing that he wasn’t even trying to move away.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Yoongi said slowly.

You clutched his shirt, staring at your white knuckles, unable to look at him directly.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… you’re so handsome, but I’m your owner… and I cracked…”

“What you are is a desperate, sexually deprived human.”

You jerked your head up, seeing his unreadable expression. “I-It’s been over a year–”

All of a sudden, Yoongi lowered his knee and grabbed you by the ass, scooting you down on the rolling chair. You yelped at the swift movement, gasping as your crotch collided with his thigh, wincing as you heard the squelch of your panties jamming into your soaked core.

Yikes.

Welp, you can’t hide that shit now.

“You like things like this, don’t you?” Yoongi murmured.

Your cheeks heated. “T…Things like w-what…?”

Oh, you knew what. You knew very well what, but you also couldn’t form coherent sentences.

His fingers sank into your ass and he pressed you into his thigh, rolling it into your heat. The whines tore out of your throat involuntarily, grabbing his arm and staring up at him with shaking eyes, seeing his curious gaze looking down at you.

“B-But, Yoongi… I’m your o-owner,” you panted, resolve slipping with every second, your hips already rocking into his thigh, the slippery thin fabric doing nothing to hide his lean muscle, your own thighs clamping around his leg. “I’m supposed to t-take care of y-you…”

And last more than two days, fucking shit, get it together!

But you couldn’t get it together, especially not as Yoongi’s voice dropped to a lower octave, one side of his lips curving upwards.

“It’s a little different now, isn’t it?” he drawled softly, lashes lowering, eyebrows raising, his black hair darkening his gaze. “Since I am now capable to take care of you too.”

You whimpered, losing it.

Just started freely humping his leg, self-preservation completely gone. Did he even know what he was capable of, really? Did he have any idea what he could do? Surely not.

Surely, he had no idea how good he could make you feel.

Yoongi bit the side of his lip, frowning. “How will can I make it feel better? I’m only cop…” He trailed off, furry ears anxiously flicking.

You tugged on his arm, getting his attention. “Angle your leg a little more downwards… Y-Yeah, like that…” He did as you instructed, his thigh now pressing down on your clit and your rocking hips moving faster, clinging to his arm and setting your jaw, moaning at the added pleasure. “A-ah… yeah, fuck… yes, I c-can… like this…”

“You can what?” Yoongi breathed, watching your face closely, firmly holding the armrests of the chair so it wouldn’t slide.  

Your head tipped back a little, bucking harder into his thigh, so wet your juices were soaking through your leggings and drenching the pink silk, turning it darker, the strong scent of your sweet arousal clearly evident. Your eyes drifted to Yoongi’s dark orbs covered by black hair, vision hazy, noticing the slight inquisitive upturn of his upper lip. There was no point in hiding it anymore.

“Can cum, Yoongi, fuck, I’m going to cum…” you moaned, inhaling his scent, his presence, saying his name and looking up at him, the stimulation and touch of another enough to get you there, eyelids fluttering as your orgasm swept down, taking you away and filling you with serene satisfaction, crashing waves soaring through you, washing away the sand of your dry spell, a different kind of euphoria than when you were on your own, pulling Yoongi close, kissing him deeply, breathing hard.

“Y… Yoongi…”

“Was it nice?” he murmured. “Was I what you needed?”

“Yeah…” You kissed his soft lips again, semi-breathless. “I–” The wave of guilt came now, your words dropping, brows furrowing, a sharp pang in your chest. Rising, rising. Panic. Yoongi lowered his head, black hair and soft pointed ear rubbing against your eyebrow, nuzzling your cheek. Once. Twice. Again, headbutting you lightly, smoothing the worry away from your forehead, a small laugh bubbling from your throat.

“What are you doing?” you chuckled, patting his arm, smoothing out the wrinkles you had made while furiously humping him. Your eye caught the dark mark now on one of his thighs. Welp. You lasted less than ten minutes.

Pink pajama Yoongi was dangerous.

“You liked this,” he mumbled. “When you were upset.”

You chuckled, instinctively reaching up and caressing his velvety ear. “You were a little smaller then.”

“Only a little.”

He slowed until he came to a full stop, dark eye staring into yours, cheek to cheek.

“I have to look after you, my clumsy human.”

-

part iv

--

masterpost

[doublekrecs]

ethanol (k. tetsuro)

ethanol (k. tetsuro)

synopsis: your lab partner in chem is annoying.

word count: 4.2 k

college!au, barista!akaashi, e2l, mean!kuroo, meg thee stallion stan!atsumu fem!reader

warnings: a lil angsty, swearing, nsfw, smut, some semi x reader smut, fingering, oral, face sitting, drunk sex, drinking, mentions of weed, degradation, hate sex??, unprotected sex, overstimulation, a lil breathplay?

walking into a stem class, especially chemistry, you expected at least a few girls to be in there with a male majority. it’s not that you didn’t get along with boys, in fact, your best friends were men themselves. but being a girl in a science class meant constantly being talked down upon, sometimes sexualized by some weird ass incels.

so when you walked into your small class as the only girl who knew no one with nowhere to sit, you settled for the next best thing: sitting next to a guy who had seemingly okay vibes. and you spotted exactly that. you couldn’t deny that he was kind of hot, a little rugged looking with his messy rooster hair. though he was only sitting down, you were also able to tell he had some height on him.

you took your seat next to him and waited in silence for the professor to start the class. this class is only a semester long. this repeated in your head like a mantra. one semester. one semester. and it’s next to a seemingly normal hot guy. you could do this. as the professor got right into the topic, you got to work right away. notes were scribbled, important topics were highlighted, your focus completely spent on the class.

“god, your perfume reeks. what did you do? dump the whole bottle?”

you looked to your left. gears were turning in your head and you felt yourself tense at the sound of his first spoken words. are you fucking serious? yeah, you liked your vanilla scented perfume. bokuto did, too. hinata loved it. akaashi was indifferent, but he never said anything negative. one semester, you repeated to yourself. one semester.

“your hair looks like absolute shit, but you don’t see me complaining about it.”

and that was your first impression of kuroo tetsuro, your lab partner. a complete asshole.

-

“and he fucking asked me if i dumped a bottle of perfume on myself! i’m not going to survive this semester with this rooster bitch.”

you sighed loudly and turned to bokuto and hinata who listened intently. while you came down from your red, hot anger, the faces of these two angels helped you feel good again.

“i’m sorry, (y/n), but there’s this one guy in my math class you might get along with. he said he was taking the same chem class, so just tell me when you need help,” bokuto responded, putting his arm around you, “but for now, it’s dinner time.”

“from where?”

“osamu. hinata won a bet against atsumu and now we have free onigiris.”

hinata snickered in the kitchen while akaashi typed away on his laptop. your roommates really were the sweetest.

-

for the next two weeks, the class slowly started more and more labs. you and kuroo mostly stayed silent unless you needed to talk about what to do with various liquids or what solid formed from what. it was okay like this. he was tolerable, except when-

“you’re off by one mililliter.”

“what?”

“you heard me, you’re off by a milliliter.”

you turned to kuroo and your sight is met with his usual stoic expression, “does it even matter? this is a huge beaker and one milliliter is like nothing compared to the rest of the solution.”

“you want to get consistent results, don’t you? so stop being sloppy or else we’re both going to fail this class. you can’t treat this class like the way you treat your perfume.”

shock took over, then boiling anger.

“sloppy? you come here looking like a fucking rooster.”

“what do you mean?”

“have you brushed your fucking hair in the last 3 years? have you looked in the mirror?”

just one semester. one semester.

you calmly composed yourself, remembering that bokuto and hinata had planned a movie night. you can get through this stupid class period. -

“and he lost his shit over one fucking milliliter! can you believe it?”

akaashi listened as he poured the milk into your coffee. you always liked to visit the cafe during the slow hours to check up on your roomie. plus, the quiet atmosphere, the smell of pastries, and akaashi’s pretty face was the perfect setting for ranting about your stupid fucking lab partner.

“i don’t know, (y/n). he’s a bit of an asshole, but maybe he’s just meticulous. it could be a good thing, you know.”

“metic-a-what? i need you to translate your big boy vocabulary, kaash.”

“you know i hate that nickname.”

“yet you have no problem when bokuto calls you that. you’re warming up.” he sighed in response while you gave a toothy grin back up at him.

“you got me there. but what i’m trying to say is that he pays attention to small details. he looks at little intricacies, especially in your assignments.”

“intri-ca-what?”

-

the next month of chem went by fast. you and kuroo had little snarky remarks here and there, but nothing too bad. he was just less of an asshole for right now.

you sat in your usual spot with the same scent of vanilla lingering on you since the first day of school. the class period went by with the usual routine: notebook? check. pen? check. highlighters? check. asshole lab partner? check. until halfway through the lecture-

“shit.” the highlighter ink was running low, your notes were getting less and less vibrant. while you knew highlighting signified some kind of shallow understanding of the subject, color coding helped you organize your thoughts.

you made a note to yourself to buy a new pack the next day.

but then the next day came and there was already a new one at your desk. midliners, in fact, the ones with prettier colors. the ones that were slightly more expensive than your usual ones with a post it note that read your name on it. you had no problem with accepting this anonymous gift, picking it up with admiration shining in your eyes. now you can continue class with your usual routine: notebook? check. pen? check. highlighters? check. asshole lab partner? check.

-

“so no one was going to tell us that we were going to throw a party tonight?”

akaashi spoke sternly to the two children on the couch while you prepared some snacks. for a party. that you discovered was happening tonight. ten minutes ago.

“aghaaashi, we haven’t thrown one in awhile. plus, it’s been awhile since all of us drank together.” bokuto whined. hinata had his full puppy dog eyes on as if he was a little boy begging their dad for a puppy.

“fine. but if anyone throws up, you guys are the ones cleaning the bathroom.”

while akaashi turned around, the children celebrated by excitedly putting out their drinks. this was going to be a long night.

-

there’s some whores in this house. there’s some whores in this house. there’s some whores in this house.

dim lights? check. henny and sprite? check. meg thee stallion? check. the basic tools necessary for a fun night.

tsumu drunkenly held onto you as if you were some kind of pillar. who knew it only took a few shots for such a big man to lose his ability to walk straight?

“(y/n)!!! wap is playing!!!”

“i know, baby, it’s your song!!”

“i know damn well flattykawa isn’t stealing the fucking show!! hold my drink, babe.”

that’s when you kissed his cheek good luck and your buddy disappeared onto the dance floor. and your eyes were met with the sight of a pretty boy staring at you.

“kaashi, who’s that?” your roommate turned to you, the pretty boy, then back to you.

“semi eita. he was in one of my literature classes. he was also on the volleyball team at shiratorizawa in high school.”

“the one with big daddy ushiwaka?”

“yeah,” he grimaced, “he’s in a band now.”

“A BAND??”

“you know what? just remember to use protection-“

kaashi was interrupted by the sight of tsumu throwing it back to hinata. the tangerine haired child really was doing his best, but tsumu was a big man. although, he really did show oikawa up.

“shoyo is so small. is he going to be okay?”

“not my problem.”

your focus went back up to the blondish grey haired musician. ruffled hair, cuffed jeans, a loose shirt. semi eita. huh. you took your last sip and discarded the red solo cup. you took another peak at him. bedroom eyes.

“hey, (y/n), the guy in my math class just got here- oh.”

“i’m gonna have to meet him some other time, bokuto.”

kuroo poured himself another drink and immediately found bokuto full of energy and red faced from the alcohol. a hyena laugh filled the room at the sight of hinata and tsumu, until he scanned the rest of room and saw you. in the hallway. with some guy with grey hair. who you led to an empty room. his heart dropped a little, but he didn’t know why.

“hey, my roommate is kinda busy right now so i can’t really introduce you two,” bokuto apologized, “why do you look like that?”

“like what, owl head?”

“sad.” he spoke with concern.

“oh, i thought i saw this one girl from one of my classes. but it doesn’t matter. let’s go drink.”

-

not even ten minutes later, you were in your bedroom with the pretty grey haired musician, most of your clothes already on the floor. you straddled him and cupped his face as his lips met yours, then your neck, then your shoulder.

his fingers found their way into your panties, quickly finding your clit as he sucked the sweet spot on your neck.

“s-semi.” you whined, grinding on his hand.

“you wanna cum on my fingers first, babe?”

you nodded quickly, lips once again meeting his. he laid you down on your bed, head resting in the crook of your neck. you felt two fingers enter you as semi curled them, his thumb rubbing your clit. the pace was agonizingly slow, but the more vocal you were, the more he sped up.

“you’re so fucking wet, baby. you’re so fucking tight.” he mumbled in your ears.

his mouth made contact with your nipple, swirling his hot tongue over the hardened bud. his mouth continued to move south, eventually replacing his thumb. you felt his tongue circle your clit quickly as his fingers continued the assault on your g spot. you clenched around his fingers, letting out small whines as the coil in you began to tighten.

“i’m going to cum, semi.” you breathed out.

he let out a low groan of affirmation, “don’t hold back, then.” his fingers began to move faster, your g spot being hit even harder. his mouth was back on your clit, sucking the small nub harshly. your thighs began to shake as his fingers fucked you through your high.

he pulled his fingers and his mouth met yours once again, your teeth pulling on his bottom lip. his fingers were brought up to your lips and you sucked on them greedily. this was going to be one hell of a night.

-

the crackling sound of the oil filled your ears as akaashi cracked some eggs onto the pan. the smell of food and coffee drifted in the apartment. the morning after was always nice for you two since you guys rarely drank a ridiculous amount of alcohol. sure, you had to take out some trash and clean up here and there, but surprisingly, no one threw up last night.

“when do you think bokuto and hinata are going to wake up this time?” you asked sipping your coffee while akaashi added rice onto the pan.

“hinata’s awake, he just feels like shit. bokuto fell asleep in the bath tub, so you know the drill.”

you nodded, walking up to the fridge to make your classic hangover concoction. as if on cue, bokuto walked into the living room with his fingers pressed onto his temple and hair looking all sad.

“good morning, you baby.”

“you hooked up with semi, didn’t you?” bokuto responded with a smirk on his face.

“i did what?”

and that was the moment semi decided to emerge from your bedroom shamelessly. his hair was messy, his clothes were all disheveled, and the memories from last night hit you all at once. you didn’t even notice that he was sleeping next to you in your bed when you walked straight to the kitchen for breakfast.

“morning.” he smiled at you and gave you a peck on the cheek. bokuto snickered while akaashi was unphased by the interaction.

“morning.” you responded, your face getting hot as you recalled the events of last night. he was good. very good. you couldn’t deny the fact that he had some talented fingers. and a pretty good stroke game.

“you want any coffee?” akaashi offered, as semi headed towards the door.

“no, i’m good. i’m supposed to eat breakfast with wakatoshi.” he replied groggily. semi let out a yawn and bid bokuto and akaashi a farewell before he pulled you aside.

“thanks for last night. call me if you want to do it again some other time. or not.”

you nodded, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks as he left.

“(y/n), you fucking asshole!! you were supposed to get with the guy in my math class!! i knew him in high school he’s a big sweet nerd!” bokuto whined.

“yeah, yeah, i’ll meet him when there’s another party. me and semi were just a one time thing.” you brushed him off as you put all the ingredients in the blender for the hungover children.

-

“all of you are going to have to collaborate with your partner for this lab report.”

you threw your head back with a silent groan. this was going to be a long assignment. you looked to the asshole on your left. his face was expressionless as he looked back at you.

“i know you despise me, but we both want an A on this.”

you couldn’t disagree with him. he had become more tolerable the past few months, often lending you notes that you had missed with the addition of some snarky comment. plus, you often got good scores on your assignments, some of his insight being helpful. at this point, you had developed the habit of going to the cafe akaashi worked at after to rant. he would make you some coffee, lend you some advice, and calm you down as you ranted about your asshole lab partner. it was a whole routine.

“fine. the cafe after class. my friend works there and it isn’t too crowded.”

“okay.”

the rest of the class period went by in the blink of an eye and you finally found yourselves entering the small shop. the scent of coffee and pastries filled your nostrils and a sense of happiness and familiarity flowed through your veins.

“kuroo?” akaashi furrowed his eyebrows.

“kaaaashi!!” he responded excitedly, “i didn’t know you worked here.”

“well, i gotta make money somehow. plus, (y/n) here likes to snag some free coffee during my shifts.” akaashi narrowed his eyes at you.

“wait, you two know each other?” you asked. how did this asshole know your sweet, stoic roommate?

“our volleyball teams played a lot in high school. i used to practice with bokuto and akaashi. you’re their roommate?”

the barista nodded as he prepared your iced coffee, “i was just at your party a week ago. small world.”

kuroo looked at you and the puzzle pieces came together in his head. so this was the cute roommate bokuto boasted about. not bad.

“how do you two know each other?”

“he’s my lab partner.” you grumbled quietly.

“you wanna say that a little louder, sweetheart?”

you flinched at the nickname while kaashi tried his best to hide a smile. it was a small world indeed.

the next few hours were spent sitting across from kuroo, entering data, highlighting important results, interpreting the recorded numbers. it was plain busy work in a cafe, but it oddly felt warm. when it came to writing about applications, kuroo seemed a little better than just tolerable. you would have an idea and he wouldn’t shut it down. instead, he engaged in them and spoke with intent. you would make a small connection to an environmental solution and his face would light up and his eyes would widen in excitement. the input that followed was filled with insight and it almost felt like his heart would pour out. he really did live and breathe chemistry. it was nice to see someone just as passionate as you are.

the bell of the cafe rang signifying another customer. you instinctively looked up, your face immediately lighting up.

“tsum-tsum!!” you jumped excitedly, “i haven’t seen you since you threw back to hinata bokuto’s party!!”

“please do not remind me,” he said with a disappointed sigh, but quickly turned back to his trademark smirk, “but did i look better than flattykawa?” he asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“no.”

“wow, that was cold.”

while tsumu ordered his muffin, you let kuroo know that you were going to take a small ten minute break to catch up with tsumu to which he responded with a grumble.

you quickly got up and sat at another table with tsumu, quickly catching up about the past week and telling him all about kuroo.

“ooo (y/n), you wanna kiss him so bad? he probably wants it, too. i can feel his death glares.” tsumu said with a wide grin and raised eyebrows.

“what? no! that’s my asshole lab partner!” you whisper yelled back.

“whatever you say. the fact you two hate each other thickens the sexual tension, baby girl,” tsumu stood up and placed a kiss on your cheek, “remember to come to my volleyball game on friday, there’s gonna be a party at later that night. i’m sure bokuto told you already.”

you nodded and pulled him into a hug before he left.

“so miya atsumu, huh?” kuroo spoke up as you returned with your iced coffee.

“what about him?”

“you’re dating? i don’t see another reason to waste time that could be used on a project that’s worth a good chunk of our grade.” he replied snarkily.

“he’s a friend, i don’t see why you need to be a dick about me wanting to catch up with a friend.” your head hurt. fifteen minutes ago, he was sweet and insightful. but now, he was a cold asshole again. what the fuck was this guy’s problem?”

“well maybe you should stop slutting around with your ‘friends’ while we’re supposed to be working.” you scoffed. slutting around? is he fucking serious?

“i can’t believe i thought you were a sweet person for a few hours. i can’t stay here if i’m just going to get slut shamed for the rest of our work time. i’ll see you in class tomorrow, you fucking asshole.”

you got up and checked up on akaashi who was already clocking out. he was going to get an earful on the way home tonight.

-

“(y/n), you better not hook up with anyone tonight. you’re meeting my classmate tonight and i don’t want to have to tell him that you were ‘busy’ again.” bokuto pointed at you with a stern look on his face.

“yeah okay, ko.”

“good.”

you walked out to the living room with some light makeup and a skirt. hinata’s eyes lit up as he sped towards you. akaashi rolled his eyes while bo coughed.

“(y/n), you look so pretty!! when did you get that skirt? oh my!!” hinata poked and bombarded you with compliments and questions like the sweet child he is.

“(y/n), why are you wearing your horny stress outfit?” akaashi asked, glaring at the skirt.

“my what?”

“whenever you want to relieve some stress by hooking up with someone, you wear a skirt, dummy,” bo explained, “oh no. the victim better be my math buddy.”

you huffed. sure, they weren’t wrong, but still.

“is this about your lab partner?” akaashi questioned, pulling you aside from bokuto and shoyo.

“maybe,” you paused, “okay, yeah, but there’s been so much tension after that incident and i hate it. it’s stressing me out and the project is due in a few days. let me hook up with bo’s friend.”

“fine.”

-

dim lights? check. henny and sprite? check. meg thee stallion? check. the basic tools necessary for another fun night. now, you were just waiting for bo’s nerd friend to appear.

“tsum tsum!!” you yelled happily, immediately jumping into the arms of one of your best friends.

“i’m glad you made it, (y/n), i missed your ass,” he kissed your cheek, “so who’s the victim tonight?”

“bo’s friend if he’s into that. i’m supposed to be meeting him here.”

“ohhh, the nerdy one, right?”

you nodded while taking a sip of your drink. you already felt more relaxed from the environment of the party. plus, a faint scent of weed filled your nose. it was probably from suna.

“kuroo-san!!” bokuto called out. wait. did you hear him correctly?

“bokuto-san!!” oh, no.

“(y/n), come here! this is my friend from high school! the math one-”

you and kuroo stared at each other, his face expressionless, yours morphing into disbelief. everything bokuto said drowned in the background noise of the party. and suddenly, you connected the dots. oh shit.

“y-you!” you pointed at him, unable to form a full sentence.

“me?”

“yeah, you!”

bokuto paused and watched the scene happening in front of him, “you two know each other?”

“he’s my lab partner, you dumbass!” you yelled while bokuto’s hair spiked up in nervousness. he decided to slowly back away and find hinata before something happened to him.

you poured more henny into your red solo cup and prepared another drink for kuroo. yeah, he was an ass, but you might as well give him a chance to loosen up. maybe get an apology. you held out the cup to him and he muttered a small thank you.

“so,” he started, “our project is due in a few days.”

you sat down next to him while mindlessly playing with the ends of your skirt, “yeah, i guess.” you two sat in awkward silence for another minute.  

“look, asshole-”

“i was just about the apologize, but then you decided to bitch again-”

“you didn’t talk and i want to leave this situation immediately so i can go hook up with-”

“with semi? with atsumu? is that the reason you came?”

“you’ve been on my goddamn nerves lately, i think i’m allowed to sleep with whoever i want so that i can relieve some-”

you were cut off by a pair of soft lips on yours. maybe it was the alcohol, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. the taste of liquor and something sweet on his mouth was intoxicating and you wanted more of it. but you hated him. he was your asshole lab partner after all. but he was also an excellent kisser. kuroo pulled away quickly, but before he can say anything, you spoke.

“what the fuck was that, kuroo?”

“i don’t know, but do you want to do it again?”

“...yes.”

and so you both got up, drunkenly stumbling to a random room. you were immediately pushed onto a bed, kuroo sucking on the spot below your ear as he pinned your body down to the bed.

“you know, i fucking hate the smell of vanilla, but because of you, it’s become one of my favorite scents,” you blushed at the comment as he pulled down your underwear beneath your skirt, “lace, huh? were you planning to get laid?”

“you’ve been stressing me out, what do you fucking think?” you responded with an attitude.

he began rubbing your clit in small circles and you let out a small sigh of relief, “so, you’re a fucking brat, huh? is this how it’s going to go?”

“well, you’re a fucking asshole, so i don’t know how else you expected this to happen.” he pressed harder and quickened his pace as you mewled under him. he found the sweet spot on your neck and began to suck harshly. you felt two fingers enter you slowly while thumb continued the assault on your clit.

“f-faster, tetsuro,” you cried out as he sucked more hickies onto your neck. he curled his fingers and assaulted your g-spot harshly while you clenched on his fingers.

“you’re already close, i can tell,” and then he halted his movements, “but i don’t think you deserve to cum yet.” you whined.

and with that, he entered his fingers into your sensitive cunt once again, kissing his way down your body until he reached your clit which he greedily sucked. you let out small whimpers and moans and you swore you felt him smirk. then a sudden feeling of emptiness.

“fuck you!” you pushed kuroo off of you, getting on top and straddling his lap, “i’ll make myself cum.”

your lips met in a heated kiss and he groaned as you grinded on his clothed crotch, “you’re a fucking brat.”

“i don’t care. shut the fuck up and let me sit on your face.”

he brought your pussy up to his head and gripped your thighs ensuring that you would stay in place while you lifted up your skirt. you felt kitten licks on your clit which only made you go lower until you were able to feel more of his tongue. he licked a strip from your pussy back up to your nub, sucking it harshly. you let out another moan, gripping his hair which only egged him on. the wet muscle found its way into your pussy and fucked you deliciously.

“fuck, tetsu, i’m coming-”

with the sounds you made, your skirt, your tits, and the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, kuroo thought he was going to cream his pants. you shamelessly grinded on his face until the knot in your stomach became tighter and tighter until it eventually broke.

you removed yourself from his face and appreciated the image of your juices on his face, his thick lashes, and sharp cheekbones, until you snapped out of it and went to work on discarding his pants. slipping off his underwear, his cock sprang free. pre cum spilled from the pink tip. sucking a hickey on his inner thigh, you took his cock into your hand, slowly moving it up and down to agitate him as he thrusted into your fist. taking the tip in your mouth, you sucked gently until his hands found themselves tangling into your hair and pushed your head down until he hit the back of your throat.

“you look so good with your mouth stuffed full of my cock,” you sucked in your cheeks and he let out another groan, “who knew this was the way to get you to shut the fuck up.”

you could only moan at his response, sending vibrations down his dick. your head bobbed up and down until you pulled him out of your mouth. you smirked, drool and pre cum dripping down your chin, knowing you gave him a taste of his own medicine.

bringing up your lips to his ear, you spoke, “how does it feel now?”

he replied by pushing down onto the bed and pinning down your wrists. you could feel his tip rubbing your clit, “i was planning to cum in your pussy anyways, slut.”

you felt yourself get wetter at the sound of his voice until he swiftly pushed himself, instantly bottoming out. the stretch stung, but the mix of pleasure and pain had you wanting more. your skirt cinched around your waist, the sight making him even harder.

“fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” he gave you another kiss before he pulled out all the way and snapped his hips back into you.

his mouth made it way onto your hardened nipple, swirling the bud with his tongue as he set a fast pace for his thrusts. you were vocal, whining every time he buried his cock inside of you. wanting you closer, kuroo harshly grabbed your ass and pulled your body into a new position that hit deeper into you.

“you’re a fucking slut, you know that?” his pace quickened. you were a babbling mess, your breasts bouncing and the knot in your stomach tightening. the sound of your moans and skin slapping against skin filled the room as you came closer to your high. his hand squeezed the sides of you neck firmly. the only thing you were able to feel was him.

“you think atsumu can fuck you like this?”

you were unable to respond coherently as he pounded harder into you, your legs wrapping his waist as you came again. he kept going.

“how about i make you cum again, brat?”

“i-i don’t think i can,” you whimpered.

“sure, you can,” he gripped your hips tighter, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix. you felt completely spent, but he refused to quit. he brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing it harshly in fast circles and you felt your second high coming.

“f-fuck (y/n).” he let out a final groan as your pussy milked his cock while you saw stars.

kuroo laid on the bed while you two distanced yourselves. you didn’t know what to say, so you scanned your surroundings.

“shit.” you muttered. “what?”

“this is atsumu’s room.”

you both looked at each other for a few seconds before he let out a hyena laugh. you giggled along with him.

“how do you know?”

“i’ve been in here before. just didn’t quite register where we were. we could have fucked in a closet and i wouldn’t notice.” you answered in a light tone.

“so, you’ve been in atsumu’s room before?”

“i mean, yeah. to hang out and stuff,” you turned to him, “why do you care so much?”

“well i thought that reason was obvious considering we just had sex,” he grumbled, “now we’re three feet apart and everything feels awkward.”

“i mean i couldn’t tell if it was just sexual tension from hate or if you actually liked me. it’s kind of hard to tell considering other.. events?”

“well, i like you. i thought you were pretty ever since the first day i met you. i just didn’t know how to tell you so i insulted your perfume and gave you some highlighters,” he rubbed the back of neck, “sorry.” he added quietly.

“sorry,” he looked at you in shock, “for, uh, calling you an asshole, i guess.” you mumbled looking back at him.

“i’m also sorry for calling you a slut. i might have been a bit jealous when i saw you with atsumu. and semi that one night.” he awkwardly laughed and looked the opposite direction.

so he wasn’t good with his words. you scooted your body closer to him and wrapped your arms around him as you got into position to straddle his lap. your head rested on the crook of his neck and his breath hitched.

“don’t worry. you don’t have to say anything.” you kissed the spot below his ear and beamed at him when you pulled away. he swore his heart skipped a beat.

“why are you blushing?” you asked, smirking up at him.

“it’s the ethanol,” he said quickly attempting to hide his face by looking away, “you know how alcohol makes your face turn red and stuff.”

“is the alcohol also the only reason we just fucked?”

“n-no!”

“then do you want to go another round?” you asked innocently, grinding on him once again.

“ye-”

“(y/n)? what the fuck did you and rooster head do in my bed?”