#entire work bc i got so used to having to load the whole fic up before the wifi got turned off
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Let's Play!
After seeing Azul fall asleep at his desk, you decide it's time for an impromptu game night to relax. Of course, things end up being the opposite of relaxing.
Notes: Just pure fluff, GN reader, some flustered Azul at the end bc he was smug the whole fic and we can't have that hehe
"That's lovely to hear."
"Azul?"
"I barely said anything!"
"Mhm. Exquisite!"
"Wha- are you even listening to me?"
"You're not listening, are you?"
"Truly, fascinating."
"..."
"Azul? Did you just fall asleep?"
"..."
And that was how you ended up calling for an impromptu game night, just the two of you. It'd be fun! And maybe Azul could go to bed at a normal time afterwards.
"You just fell asleep, didn't you?"
"This is entirely unnecessary, you know."
"I do know," you said. "But it'll be fun. Do you even know what that word means, takoyaki?"
"Don't call me that."
"No can do, takoyaki. Now, what game do you want to play first?"
Azul just glared at you petulantly. You glared back. After a while, he gave up.
"Fine, fine," he said. "Scrabble. And don't expect me to go easy on you."
"Like I'll need it," you said.
You quickly regretted those words. He beat you at every single round. How? It wasn't even close! Why was he just so good at this?
"How do you-"
"Heh," Azul said, a smug grin on his face. "It seems as if you're having some regrets."
"Why, you-!" You were getting fired up. "You know what? I'm picking the next game! We're playing Uno! Good luck winning every round of that!"
He did, in fact, win every round of that. Somehow. How? It was a luck-based game, for God's sake!
"I- how did you-"
"Trade secret, my dearest," he said. "I do believe it's my turn to pick our next game, then. How about Monopoly?"
Monopoly. Yeah, that would work. Monopoly was literally about rolling dice! There was no way he could rig that!
He did. Somehow. All the rolls were in his favor. How? You checked to see if the dice was loaded. It wasn't.
"That was just you cheating!" You said.
"Have you forgotten you're playing against a member of the Board Games Club?" He said, then at your deadpan stare, added "I learned to trick throw dice.
"But that's cheating!"
"No, it isn't. There are no rules against it."
You got the feeling he wasn't going to back down on this one. Luck-based games were out of the question, then. And so were skill-based games because he was good at everything. That was all games!
Wait. You had an idea. But you would wait before trying to implement it. You wanted to end things with a win for you. That way, you could pretend Azul was at a loss.
And so, you let yourself get clobbered, over and over and over again. Now, it was the last game of the night, and it was your turn.
"Any last wins to hand over to me?" He said, smug as ever. You were going to make him eat those words.
"Why yes," you said, relishing how what you said next wiped the smirk off of Azul's stupidly kissable face.
"Twister."
Azul glared at you.
"Ah, but dear," he said bitterly, "I'm afraid we only have two players."
"That's okay, takoyaki," you replied in kind. "I have a hands free spinner online.
Azul gulped.
"Are you certain this is your choice?"
"Absolutely," you said.
You could see the bead of sweat that dripped down Azul's face. Twister was a game about flexibility, something that Azul lacked. It also put people into compromising positions, kryptonite to someone who cared as much about their image as Azul.
"I-I see," Azul said. "Let us start, then."
Twister was far more satisfying than the other games. Azul struggled way more than you did, limbs trembling with exertion, and he still refused to give up. He was so adorably stubborn.
By the end of it, you were in an easy-to-hold downward dog position. Azul, on the other hand, was stuck in an arch. Heh.
"You sure you don't wanna give up, Azul?" You asked.
"Hmph. As if I'd- Ack-!"
Azul fell, and before he could hit his head, you caught him, before pulling him into a kiss as a reward for your bravery.
As you broke away, gently lowering Azul onto the ground, he looked away from you, face red.
Cute.
"Hmph," he groaned, mumbling his words, "what was that for?"
"A prize," you said. "For me. I won this round, after all."
"And I won all the others," he said. "And yet I haven't received any prizes."
"Do you want a prize, then?"
You said it as a joke, but he bashfully nodded.
"Well then," you said. "All you had to do was ask!"
As you pulled him into a kiss, you couldn't help but think that your boyfriend was absolutely irresistible.
#azul ashengrotto#fluff#azul ashengrotto x you#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul x reader#twst azul#twst x reader
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random number spam: 2, 3, 18, 14, 12, 16,
thank you !! gonna put these numbers in order bc it'll bother me otherwise lol
2.) What fanfic do you wish you got more response on?
can i say all of them? 😭 i'm a shameless attention whore at this point. but no i'd probably say my most recent one, camp triple pine. it's gotten loads of attention and i'm super grateful (not to sound spoiled because i've gotten some amazing gifts but i'd love fanart, if that counts as a response...this isn't a guilt tactic though, because once when i was in the s*nders s*des fandom on wattpad i said i wanted fanart lowkey and someone called me manipulative and blocked me :') but that's a whole other thing entirely. i used to get so much attention for my tss fics back in the day i didn't want to leave...now i'm rambling--)
3.) What’s a fic idea that you have but haven’t written yet?
oh there's so many !! i'm gonna do a writer's update post once i finish ctp but i have a lot of ideas. one’s 10k for byler, one’s a one shot for caswen, i have a few gifts for friends i wanna catch up on, etc...
to give an idea i’ve mentioned here and there, my next long-term lawrusso fic i wanna do is a 90s lawrusso merman au. johnny’s staying with bobby at the brown family beach house and he meets daniel, a merman who he helps sort-of turn human after he “saves” daniel from drowning. he then shows daniel about what it’s like being human, daniel tries ice cream, explores the santa monica pier, tries human mating several times, and i plan for it to be super cute and fun ! plus it’s got the jessica/bobby/ali thruple together at the start bc i will force it into every lawrusso fic until people like it :-)
(p.s. if anyone steals any of my ideas you will meet your end by my hand <3)
12.) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
i definitely read all the comments i get many times :’) but i do try to respond to a lot of comments, but sometimes i get busy, and honestly the comments leave me so flustered because i feel undeserving of them, that by the time i get to them i feel like it’s been a while and it’s weird. who and what i respond to is pretty random, though i do respond to more in-depth comments, and not to just one sentence comments (but i appreciate all comments, you don’t have to write a novel but just knowing you were there is really cool !)
14.) Have you ever co-written a fic?
haha, uh...no. i’ve made plans with friends and authors i admire, but i mostly work alone. the closest i ever got was working with the most popular author in the s*nders s*des fandom on a welcome to night vale au (guess what year that was lol). we had a google doc and everything but scheduling and everything didn’t work out. i have bounced around ideas though without actually writing them into fic so if anyone wants to do that i’m happy to help !
16.) How long is your longest fic?
according to ao3, 97,252 words ! damn, i should have gotten to 100k, but i tell people 100k usually. it’s a s*nders s*des (i censor for tags not bc i hate the fandom or anything, i’m just not in it anymore...it’s embarrassing how most of my fics are for this fandom but i pretty much wrote exclusively for it for 5 years--) anyways it’s a s*nders s*des selection (bachelor) au where i condensed three books into one longfic. i believe it’s also one of my most popular books on my wattpad besides my one shots book for the same fandom. it’s got a playlist and fanart and everything...i wrote it during the driver’s ed period of sophomore year bc they never let me drive lol...good times...
18.) Recommend someone else fic! (And tag them if they have a tumblr!)
i rarely read fic, but take my most recent read, Everything Beautiful’s Fiction by narcissablaxk (i don’t know their tumblr but they’ve written a lot of fics so i’m sure someone around here does). i had a craving for ruben/chris (bc it’s adjacent to 90s lawrusso) and this filled just that ! it was hurt/comfort-y and overall a pretty good read !
i think that’s it, thanks for the ask, and i’m not sorry i rambled bc this was fun ! <3
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https://www.tumblr.com/freeuselandonorris/748039869693050880/httpswwwtumblrcomfreeuselandonorris748005292
omg ok. my brain is a vault of stardew info ive been playing since release basically.. u get copper ore from the mines, found frequently on floors 1-40. once you find your first ore, the blacksmith will bring you blueprints to make a furnace to smelt it into bars so you can use them for crafting, building, upgrading tools etc. the mines are located near robin’s house and linus’s tent, if you just follow the path to the left of their homes!
haley sucks at first (tbh half do imo) but if u gift her things she likes and keep talking to her, she warms up pretty fast! all of them have liked, disliked, loved, hated, and neutral gifts and will give shitty reactions to disliked and hated gifts ):
i played the fuck out of cyberpunk !! i loved the story behind it, smth ab having a flashdrive stuck into my brain and then some hologram dude talking to me just does it for me. i love johnny sm. what boss are u coming up on?
omg anon ur an ANGEL. honestly my one criticism of stardew valley is that it just kinda…dumps you in it and doesn’t really give you any kind of tutorial lmao?? i’ve figured out a fair amount of stuff through trial and error and followed the journal quests but holy shit it would have taken me forever to figure out that u have to go to the mines to do mining. which like. now it’s written down OBVIOUSLY that’s where you go to do mining but sadly my brain doesn’t work like that lmao.
side note: i went and tried fishing after ur earlier post and oh my GOD it’s annoying. 0/10. took me about four goes just to time the fuckin hit right to get the mini game loaded. horrendous.
CYBERPUNK MY BELOVED!! i have had such an insane trajectory w this game lmao. i was SO excited when it first got trailed because it’s so obviously inspired by neuromancer (i mean frankly the plot is very nearly ripped off neuromancer entirely at times) and blade runner and cyberpunk as a genre is a longstanding intense obsession of mine. and then i got the 1.0 PS4 release when they were practically giving it away for free bc it was such a mess and i barely got halfway through Act 1 bc it was buggy as hell.
THEN like…years? later i got made redundant from work (if you’re non-UK, i think the USeng equivalent is laid off?), impulse bought a PS5 (thanks, adhd impulse spending!) and downloaded 2.0 and promptly got fucking obsessed.
cut for mild spoilers
like. i have never been emotionally invested in a game like this. i’ve never wanted to live inside a game like this! night city feels so so real, and i fuckin love playing as V (i’m playing boy V which is a v good gender experience). there’s some elements of the gameplay i find frustrating and the levels/perks system drives me slightly insane but the storyline, voice acting and the whole design of night city is mind blowing to me.
i have also never ever wanted to fuck a fictional character as much as i do johnny silverhand lmao. GOD. my screenshots folder is full of pictures of him with that cyborg arm on show 🥵 i’m kinda desperate to finish it so i can check out the fic bc i need johnny/V porn but i don’t wanna spoiler any of the endings for myself lmao.
ANYWAY so the boss fight i have coming up is at the end of play it safe, after the parade…i’m just about to start taking out the 3 snipers but i’ve seen on reddit etc that the boss fight at the end of this is hideous, esp if you’re not really highly levelled on body attributes which like…i think i’m on about 11 for body so not super low but i’ve been focused on tech ability (after tbf taking a pretty scattergun approach at first and regretting it). if the boss fight at the end of i walk the line is anything to go by i’m fucked — i gave up on sasquatch in the end and just ran into the cinema lmao, i literally tried about 20 times to get her 😭 my hand eye coordination is NOT good enough for this!!
i have phantom liberty waiting for me after i’m done w the main pack i can’t waittttt
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MOVIE DATES WITH STRAY KIDS
stray kids x reader
genre: fluff
word count: 1.8k
warnings: intended for male reader, but can be read as gender neutral; my first fic 👉👈 im nervous; lowercase aesthetic; does “bastard” count as a swear word..?
i hope you enjoy this little gift :)
bang chan
he likes romantic comedies
tbh being chan’s s/o would feel like a romcom of its own
since he doesn’t like crowds, your movie dates together usually wouldn’t involve actually going to the movies
instead you’d probably both opt to stay in for the night and watch a movie on the couch
under multiple blankets
in each other’s arms
hugs and cuddles
with the occasional kiss on the top of your head
it’s so soft
it’s chan :)))
he does the little claps at the end of the movie
because happy endings ^–^
y’know those awkward scenes where the main couple meets for the first time?
he likes to point out which character you were most similar to when the two of you first met
“i didn’t know you were in this movie!”
“you look so different! i could hardly recognize you!”
he’s such a dork
all your movie nights would end in one of three ways:
1.) you falling asleep in his arms
2.) him falling asleep holding you close (yeah not really, this man doesn’t sleep that much T_T)
or 3.) you both make it through the movie, and one of you says something like
“this is nice...i wish we could just stay like this”
and so you both (in theory) fall asleep right where you are
either way, chan is the best boyfriend and neither of you know what you did to deserve each other
lee know
he’d get you to go see a horror movie
even if you protest, he’d manage to convince you somehow
pokes fun at you every time you get scared
during a suspenseful part in the movie, he’d suddenly put his hands on your shoulders and shake you (lightly) out of nowhere, just to startle you
and he’d have to stifle his giggles because your reaction is just too priceless
absolutely relishes in how you never let go of his arm
like ever
seriously, his arm might as well be an extension of your body at this point
he may act like he’s annoyed
but he loves it
cuz he knows it’s because you feel safe with him
and if you hide your face in the crook of his neck
he’d get this look on his face...
something between an evil smirk and an amused grin
why? because his plan is working
plot twist: the whole reason he chose to see a horror movie with you was so that you would cling to him
surprise!! >:]
but even if you catch on, he’ll never admit it
tsundere
“did you even see any of the movie?”
you just kinda grumble in response, still latched onto his arm
“i can’t believe it... i so generously paid for your ticket, only for you to hide your face the whole ti- OW!”
you jab him in the side with your elbow give him a “love tap” :)
but it’ll take more than that to get him to stop teasing you about it
he’s a cocky bastard but you love him to death for it
seo changbin
superhero movie!!!
like something from the mcu
seeing him get so excited/invested in the movie??
wholesome
but he might get a little too excited
in other words, going to the movies with changbin is an...interactive experience
meaning that he talks at the movie
not to the movie, but at the movie
like...he talks at the characters on screen
as if they can hear him
honestly it’s kinda cute
but occasionally you have to remind him to keep his voice down
“HE TRIED TO TELL YOU NOT TO TOUCH THE STONE”
“shhhh alright calm down a bit-”
“...AND NOW YOU DEAD”
“changbin i love you but please don’t get us kicked out of the theater”
10/10 would have his arm around you throughout the movie
even if his arm goes numb, he’d refuse to let anything stop him
“changbin, you don’t have t-”
“CUDDLES.”
lowkey feels like a pillow
bc he beefy
on very rare occasions he might fall asleep during the movie
if he does end up dozing off and you catch him in the act, he’d deny it profusely
he likes to spontaneously slip his hand into yours :)
and lace your fingers together :))
you’re holding hands now :)))
his presence is just so warm and fuzzy and you make each other so happy
hwang hyunjin
THIS MAN
the funnest(?) most fun bf in existence
he’s definitely the type to try and smuggle outside food into the theater
he insists that he’s inconspicuous about it
and he tries to be
but he’s not :)
“uh... hyunjin, why are you wearing two hoodies?”
“i uh... i’m... cold?”
“so you’re sticking bags of microwaveable popcorn in between your sweatshirts...to keep warm?”
*visibly sweating* “i can explain...”
ok ok
so y’all seeing a comedy
why?
because HIS LAUGH OMG
it’s so bubbly and contagious
so naturally, you’d both be laughing up a storm at the back of the theater
and sometimes it’s because of the movie
but most of the time it’s because of the side comments the two of you keep making to each other
and it doesn’t help that he keeps making these ridiculous observations about the characters in the movie
“what’s up with that guy?”
“what about him?”
“why is he built like a refrigerator?”
about halfway through the movie, you both reach that delirious state where literally anything and everything becomes funny
even if it’s not supposed to be funny
...especially if it’s not supposed to be funny
the two of you? lowkey hyenas
long story short, you’re both asked to leave the theater not even two hours into the film :)
han jisung
action!! movie!!
finishes the popcorn within the first ten minutes of the film
that is, if he doesn’t scarf it all down during the previews
he talks through the entIRE THING
he’s always got something to say
it’s like watching the director’s commentary version of a movie
but instead of the director talking about the film-making process
it’s jisung muttering nonsense in your ear
sometimes pertaining to the movie
and other times...
“hey did i ever tell you about the time i saw a seagull eating garbage?”
...yeah, other times it’s...not
either way, you don’t mind
because you aren’t really paying much attention to the movie anyways
you’re too busy admiring your boyfriend
how could you not?
the way he’s on the edge of his seat, giving the movie his full attention...
the light from the screen flickering dimly on his face, highlighting his gentle features...
you’re the luckiest person in the world, no doubt
his eyes light up whenever something particularly cool/badass happens in the movie
but he also gets startled by the explosions every now and then
when that happens, you just look at each other for a moment
and then burst into a fit of giggles
“stoooppp!! it was loud, ok??”
you just hum in response and rest your head on his shoulder
y’know that thing he does where like...
he’s giggling, but he has something he wants to say, so he keeps trying to talk?
but his words keep getting cut off by his own laughter?
yeah... that’s what he’s doing
he’s adorable
lee felix
animated movie
a firm believer that you’re never too old to enjoy cartoons
he never lost that child-like energy/enthusiasm, which is part of what makes him such a gem
so of course, when the new disney movie came out, he knew he had to go see it with you
he would definitely load up on snacks from concessions
if you don’t stop him, he’s gonna be buying two giant things of popcorn and at least five different kinds of candy
and when he walks back to you after paying, he’d just smile brightly from behind the mountain of junk food in his hands like
“snacks :D!!!!!”
seriously though, try to keep track of how much popcorn he eats
bc he might overeat and get a stomachache :((
obviously he can take care of him self, cuz he’s an adult
but like
he loves when you look out for him
because he knows just how much you care about him
sunshine boy :((
y’all already know how much of a cuddle bug this man is
so of course that means lots of cute, affectionate gestures during the movie
skinship
holding hands
you resting your head on his shoulder
and him resting his head on top of your head
and most importantly SNUGGLES
snuggles are a must
for him, movie dates are just an excuse to be extra touchy with you
even though he never needs an excuse to get cuddles whenever he wants
because c’mon
it’s felix
what are you gonna do, say no?
kim seungmin
murder mystery film
tends not to talk all that much during movies
he’d just be so completely engrossed in the movie that he’d forget about his surroundings
but that’s not to say he won’t hold your hand or drape his arm over your shoulders
every now and then you can catch him leaning forward in his seat
with his mouth slightly ajar
it’s so endearing
but if for whatever reason you want to get his attention...
heh...
yeah, good luck with that
you’d have to maybe give his hand a lil squeeze to get his attention
and at first he’d just turn his head in your direction, keeping his eyes glued to the movie
but if you gave his hand another squeeze, he’d snap out of it
“psst...seungmin”
“mm.”
“hey, seungmin?”
“huh? yeah?”
“i love you”
if that doesn’t make his heart SWELL—
his dazed expression would quickly shift into one of pure elation and fondness
he might not respond verbally
but he’d gently bring your hand up to his lips
press a soft kiss atop your knuckles
and then lower your hand again without letting go, turning his attention back to the movie
but that bright smile of his would never falter for even a moment
he loves you too
so so much :)
yang jeongin
another one for romantic comedies
he likes it when there’s a little less “rom” and slightly more “com”
and so do you
because it means you get to hear his laugh more
oh god...
his laugh
the little giggles in between the short gasps for air...
so cute
“no. i’m not cute.”
he is very cute
probably won’t initiate any skinship
but if you do, he will absolutely go along with it
sometimes he’ll nod off in the middle of a movie
and then wake up during the credits, completely disoriented
“where am i”
“you fell asleep”
“huh??”
“you drooled a little on my shoulder, you goof”
unlike hyunjin, he’s really good at sneaking food into the theaters
like really really good
almost to the point that it’s scary
usually people try to sneak in popcorn or candy or maybe soda
well not jeongin
“hey, you want some?”
“what the- HOW DID YOU GET A BUCKET OF FRIED CHICKEN IN HERE”
“:]”
he’s not telling
like or reblog if you enjoyed ^^ feedback is always welcome and very much appreciated!
#kpop x reader#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#kpop drabbles#kpop x you#kpop x y/n#kpop fluff#kpop x gender neutral reader#kpop x male reader#kpop male reader#kpop mlm#stray kids x reader#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#stray kids drabbles#stray kids x you#stray kids x y/n#stray kids fluff#stray kids x gender neutral reader#stray kids x male reader#stray kids male reader#stray kids mlm#bang chan x reader#minho x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#jisung x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader
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Take your time then.
Aizawa x gender neutral reader
Story under the cut :)
Unedited but like edited but still not properly edited :)
Hope you enjoy!!!
a/n: it’s been a hot min since I’ve written a fic. I think the last time i was 14 and it was shit and on wattpad. Ha. I hate myself. N e way, I was recently writing some shit for an au me and my friend thought up and in the back of my mind I was like, “you should start writing fics again bc this is kinda fun”, soo lo and behold I made a post asking if anyone would be interested, shared a little too much personal shit in it but whatever, and have now decided to write this mother fucker. (3/25/21)
a/n: not sure if anyone will care about this series of a/n’s but I’m just chronicling thoughts ig. rewriting rn bc my first draft was short and ass. Also I’m thinking about opening requests after this is posted, will go into detail in a diff post maybe. (3/28/21)
a/n: deleted everything, rewriting. I just want to make something that might be decent and if I can give that feeling, y’know those chills you get when you read something utterly gorgeous, but I’m bad at writing. sadge (3/28/21, like several hours later)
a/n: ugh (4/1/21)
a/n: ugh pt 2 electric boogaloo. I can’t seem to move forward with the writing. I realized something like this might happen bc to solve a problem feelings need to be discussed and I fucking hate doing that so you can see where I’m fucking up lmaooooo (4/2/21)
a/n: I read angst to fuel my writing brain. So, read some angst, finally writing agian. This first section is probs as long as the story itself LMFAO(4/5/21)
Started: (3/25/21) Finished: (4/5/21)
Warnings: uh angst, curse words, like a lot, (i saw someone else put this as a warning, do I actually need it?), avoiding problems instead of actually facing them, mentions of shit so-so parenting, mentions of not being able to live up to high expectations, y’know, the works
Synopsis: Aizawa takes in Eri without running it by you first and expects you to be okay with it. That’s funny. He was wrong.
Can I preface this with a thought? I’m going to anyway,
all the fics I read paint him as the sweetest partner and I’m sure he is but I think they miss out on how blunt he is and his whole “Mr. Rationality” thing. So as much as I adore him I think there are situations that he’d be a bit more colder towards, a bit more straightforward about. Maybe even like a bit insensitive about but maybe bc he doesn’t have the full picture or something. so I guess this is another warning but aizawa is a little insensitive in the beginning (but like not really but kinda. it’s complicated)
~
Rain pattered softly against the window. The smell of some old random Bath and Bodyworks candle you’d dug out from a box you’d never bothered to unpack smothered the room. Some Netflix show idly played on a low volume on your computer, you’d lost interest in watching tv awhile ago. You needed a break. After the eventful month you’d been having you really needed this.
Now of course your whole year so far had been eventful. What with all the villain attacks on you and Shouta’s class and the kidnapping of one of your students, to just dealing with the more mundane problems with your students. No. You had no problem with that. The villains, although not easy, were something you were trained to handle. The smaller problems with your students weren’t arduous either, after all you weren’t too much older than them.
When reflecting on your situation, from and outside perspective it could be seen as the straw the broke the camels back, which sure, makes sense. After all, you’re bound to be stressed out by everything else, so why would this seemingly insignificant thing weigh heavier than a villain attack? Well if that is the situation why does this single straw feel like it weighs a ton? This is not that. This is not culmination of the events of this year draining the life from you. This is something entirely different. A panic inducing life change that completely took you by surprise mixed with your inability to actually face your problems.
You don’t blame them. You can’t. They’ve done nothing wrong. A child. A small, probably mentally scarred child is your problem. Well not her personally but the fear taking care of her instills in you. Despite working in the field that you do, you cannot for the life of you handle actual children. Sure you’re a little awkward with your class but at least they’re young adults and (vaguely) mature and independent to a certain extent. The fact that your long term boyfriend just came back one day, small child in tow and said “Hey I’ve gotta look after this one now” not verbatim obviously, for a lack of better words, fucked you up. He basically solo adopted a kid and, let’s be honest, he probably expected you to help out. But how could you? How could this man look at you and think “I want this person to help me raise an already fucked up child?” Ok sure, he doesn’t at first give off the “I’m totally father figure material” vibe but in the end he is extremely competent. You on the other hand, not so much.
You’d never been good with children. Tried your best to steer clear of them. Didn’t matter the place, didn’t matter who’s kid, you couldn’t handle them. You would just stand there, awkwardly, not entirely sure of what to do and petrified that there was the possibility of making some mistake which would upset the child and then oh wow look, your head got chopped right of your shoulders. That’s hyperbole of course but it does sum up the insurmountable fear that overcomes you whenever you have to deal with a child. So considering the fact that your long term boyfriend had suddenly decided to adopt and not at least warn you, didn’t sit right with you.
So, the best and most obvious choice, was to avoid your problem. Avoid Shouta, avoid Eri. Avoid the mention of them and you, avoid it all. And honestly you’d done pretty well so far. You were able to have as little contact with them as possible considering the close proximity of your living quarters in the teacher’s dorms. After all they were legally supposed to give you two separate rooms but you never actually used yours, well until now. You were living it up honestly. Did you feel awful? Of course. He is your boyfriend after all and you were sure Eri doesn’t deserve your cold shoulder but this is probably for the best. What could you offer her? You weren’t sure that you were a good role model for her or anyone for that matter. What did you know about raising kids? it’s not like you had parents to set a proper example for you. Of course they might have shown you what not to do but where do you go from there? Is shit like that really avoidable? You don’t want to be like them. You strive to be better but what if you can’t be. There’s also the added bonus of the fact that raising a kid seems taxing on a relationship. Now matter how strong you were sure that the stress of a kid could break a relationship down that then festers into something toxic and unrecognizable. You didn’t want that. God you couldn’t let that happen. No. This was definitely for the better.
Of course Aizawa didn’t feel the same. He was confused on why his partner had been so blatantly avoiding him. Did he do something wrong? He doesn’t remember doing anything that might’ve upset you. So why now? Why pull away now? He had to get down to the bottom of this but catching you was the hard part. You had been taking on more work, offering more assistance to the other teachers, picking up extra patrols, doing everything and anything to stay away from Shouta. It took him a month but he finally caught up to you. You were tired, worn out he knew that. Instead of loading yourself with work you’d decided to hole yourself up in your room. It was now or never.
You were pulled out of your peace at the sound of a few gentle knocks to your door. You really didn’t want to get it. You honestly couldn’t be bothered.
“(N/n)? Are you in there?” He hadn’t gotten it wrong right? He hadn’t been too distracted earlier and missed you leaving right?
“What’s up?” You hummed from your place by the window, not bothering to actually open the door.
“Can I come in?” Shouta asked, voice soft. You could barely hear him above the patter of the rain and the low humming of your laptop.
“Uh, no, kinda busy. Got loads of work to do. Need to focus, sorry. Maybe later?” You hesitantly spoke. Not sure if you were convincing enough.
Apparently you weren’t.
He sighed. “It’s been “later” for an entire month. Please (Y/n) just let me in. Whatever this is we can talk it out.” You had predicted that eventually Shouta would start to try to crack down on whatever the issue was but you didn’t expect it so soon.
“Uh...no?” You tried, hoping that maybe he’d just give up but that wasn’t Shouta.
“No, you don’t get that option, now please, open the door.” Although it was still soft his voice had taken a more stern tone.
“Oh no I’m dead. I guess I can’t open the door. What a shame. I guess the only way to talk with me now is in the pits of hell.” You quipped, trying to lessen the tension that already ran thick.
“(Y/n).” Aizawa sighed.
“Jeez fine. Talk about pushy.” You quipped once more to no avail.
Opening the door you were met with, well exactly what you expected. He stood there, arms crossed, a stern yet gentle look in his eyes, his lips pulled into a slight frown.
“Come in.” You mumbled as you stepped further into your room.
“So tell me. What’s wrong?” The sentence stirred so much. Of course you wanted to tell him. You wanted to spill your guts to the man you loved in hopes of comfort but you just can’t. You know you’ll just scare him off. You know you’ll make things worse.
So you stay silent.
He says nothing as he grabs your hands gently and leads you over to your bed. He sits the two of you down on the edge, muting the movie on the laptop sitting behind him.
“You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you right?” Shouta sent you a warm smile.
You weren’t very comfortable with discussing your feelings sometimes, it mostly stemmed from the fact that you never really could discuss them with anyone growing up which made it harder to confide in anyone now, as at this point bottling things up was a habit. But this was also just something that you were sure that you couldn’t talk about.
Silence answered him once again.
Now he took sometime to think about his approach, think about what could’ve happened that made you pull away. What did he do that was different from his norm? He was genuinely stumped and the fact that you weren’t helping him confused him even more.
You decided to take this time to lament the situation too. What was he going to do? Should you actually tell him or play it off? If you play it off will he still insist that something is wrong? If you tell him will he leave you? If you don’t tell him will he leave you? You risked a glance at him, he was still deep in thought.
Why did you have to adopt this fucking kid without at least warning me?
“What?” Your head shot up at the sound of his shocked voice.
“What?” You asked, genuinely confused.
“Eri’s the problem...?” He spoke slowly, not entirely sure if he’d heard you right.
“Did I say that out loud?” You squeaked.
“I’m pretty sure you mumbled something along the lines of “why’d you have to adopt that fucking kid”.” Shouta said, unsure if he’d heard wrong. Wanting to have heard wrong.
“No no no no no no! It’s not like that! I mean it is like that but not like that!” You frantically waved your hands in hopes of defusing the situation.
The way he looked at you made you want to cry. You felt horrible. You felt like the biggest asshole in the world and, at this point you probably were. He looked at you with such a look of heartbreak and disappointment and confusion it made you sick to your stomach. You felt light-headed and started shaking. You were right. You were right. You were always right. God why did you have to be right! Why did you have to be like this? Scared of raising a fucking child! It was asinine and irrational and you could probably move past it but thanks to your stupid fucking brain you just sealed your fate.
You scooted away from him still waving your hands frantically as no’s tumbled endlessly from your lips. You tried sputtering an apology, anything so that he wouldn’t look at you like that but nothing stuck. Nothing was comprehensible. Nothing worked. Nothing would work. Nothing will work. You were hopeless. It was hopeless.
“If it isn’t like how it seems then tell it to me straight.” Shouta finally spoke up.
You took a second to come down from your panic. You steeled your nerves as much as possible before you spoke.
“Um well, I have nothing against her it’s just that a little heads up would’ve been nice? I’m not all that great with kids so this is just kind of weird is all.” You were purposefully being vague in hopes that he’d understand what you meant and also maybe drop it.
“Not great with kids? You’re literally a teacher.” He pointed out.
“Yeah you know but she’s like a kid kid and let’s be honest I’m not too great with the students either.” You awkward laughed. So he wasn’t getting it.
“Wha-you’re fine with the students and I’m sure you’ll be fine with Eri, there was no reason to avoid me over this.” Shouta sighed. As good as he was with dealing with people, he was equally as shit. Or maybe it was just the fact that you gave him very little to work with. It was probably a bit of both. Still his dismissiveness was not helping you right now.
“No, no, no, no. I think I’ll stay here. Uh, good luck with your parenthood escapades and sorry to leave you high and dry like this but that’s going to have to be a no from me.” You rambled. He seemed to be getting a little tired of this.
“(Y/n) stop being irrational. She’s not even our kid I’m just looking after her for now. Why are you being difficult? I told you you were fine with the students and you’ll be fine with Eri, what else do you want to hear?” Shouta grumbled.
“Well uh I don’t know, uh...” You trailed off, this seemed to be going in a direction you really didn’t want it to go. A slight hostility settling in the air.
At your lack of a proper answer he clicked his tongue. He took a moment to reassess the situation. There had to be something he was missing. After all you were getting really worked up but if you weren’t going to talk to him there was nothing he could do. He shook his head before running a frustrated hand through his hair.
“(Y/n), please, please, just be honest with me. Whatever it is that’s bothering you, you can tell me. But I won’t be able to understand if you don’t.” Aizawa sighed, deciding that getting worked up about this was not the way to go, especially when you seemed to be especially distraught.
“Uh, god the thing is I don’t know entirely what to say to put the shitshow in my head into perspective.” You mumbled, trying desperately to figure out what to say that could clear the air but nothing seemed to be coherent enough.
“Take your time.” He decided that this was the best approach to things, making sure neither party got too worked up lest this turn into a fight.
The rain continued to patter softly against the window and your candle continued to burn an slightly off floral-ish scent. A deafening silence hung in the air because even though he was being as patient as possible some of his frustration leaked through, it was bound to though so you couldn’t exactly blame him. After all, you were probably equally as frustrated with yourself too.
“I’m just not good in a position like this. I’m not good with kids, especially someone like Eri who’s already so broken. You have that nurturing nature, it comes natural to you but I’m not on that level. I don’t know the first thing about caring for a child let alone one as already traumatized as her. I’d fuck it up and only make things worse. I don’t want you to reassure me that I’ll be okay with her, I want you to understand that I’m not comfortable with this and that it might take me awhile to come around. I’m sure I sound like the biggest asshole ever but please understand that this just isn’t something I’m ready for.” You had rambled a bit, you were aware of that, but it was the only way that you could properly express your feelings without making things too complicated.
Aizawa said nothing. Trying to figure out how to go about things.
Was he upset? Yeah, you two, even after several long years of being together, hadn’t discussed moving forward in your relationship in depth. And if he’d tried you seemed content with the point you two were at so he left it be, no reason to try and move forward when what you had was already fine the way it was. But recently he’d been craving more. Some mornings, when he’d be the first to wake, he’d study your features in the soft light of the sunrise and wonder what it’d be like to properly settle down with you. Get married, start a family, all that jazz. He’d taken in Eri only because it was the most rational decision. His quirk would be good for quelling hers had it ever gotten out of hand. But it also seemed to quell his musings of something more with you. He had imagined you being a good parental figure for the little girl and it made his heart flutter and his stomach explode with butterflies. But now seeing that that wasn’t what you wanted and how you weren’t ready for it, it stung. But in the end, he loved you. He’d easily give his life for you. So, if that meant waiting he’d wait. He’d wait a million years if he had to. He could do it.
Once again he spoke,
“Take your time then. I can wait.”
Tagslist?: @captainchrisstan (I think you said you wanted to be tagged but I’m also just small brained lol If u didn’t want to and I misinterpreted things just let me know :) )
#bnha x reader#mha xreader#aizawa x reader#shouta aizawa x reader#aizawa shouta#aizawa#my first fic#mha#bnha
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Hot Cocoa
Pairing: Iida Tenya x gn!reader
Warnings: brief cursing (mostly just bakugou being bakugou), some suggestive humor (m*neta is involved too)
Genre: fluff (a lil bit of crack bc why not)
WC: a bit over 8k? went slightly overboard with this idea and not entirely happy with the ending but i already rewrote it like 5 times so it is what it is-
(A/N): heya! so this is my first fic and i was kinda nervous about posting it...
it started out as an idea on @todorkihoe’s discord server but then it evolved into this monstrous nightmare so...it took me like a whole week to hash everything out and the logistics of the secret santa thing was an absolute nightmare. but it was worth it!!
It was the holiday season. Most people were taking time off of work to hang out with their friends and family. You had wanted nothing more than to relax in your hot tub with a glass of sparkling cranberry juice and scrumptious holiday cookies, but being a pro-hero meant sacrifices.
You were signed on as a sidekick in the UA Hero Agency’s Tokyo branch. The UA Hero Agency was exactly that: a hero agency formed by the most illustrious graduating class at UA. Not everyone from their class eventually went into the agency, but they were a large agency, with around 36 pro-heroes working full-time. This meant that they had several branches. You, a recent graduate from UA, knew these heroes who were a year above you at UA. They were special. When you started at UA, there were already whispers about “the Class of Legends”. Every single person who graduated the year after had been through enormous trauma during their years at UA. You thought that they were true heroes: strong, unbending even in the face of overwhelming adversity. They were only in their first year when they had been attacked by villains: twice. One of them had even been kidnapped. You couldn’t even begin to fathom how hard they must have worked to get to where they were today. They were resilient, and it showed. The UA Hero Agency is now one of the top Hero Agencies in not only Japan, but also the world. In fact, with their combined power, you wouldn’t be surprised if they happened to make an international branch. You knew that some of the heroes at your agency, Can’t Stop Sparkling and Pony, wanted to start something overseas but didn’t yet have the manpower to make it happen. You were sure that within a few years, their ranks bolstered by new graduates, they would take UA to the international stage.
So it was Christmas Eve. Even though you wanted the chance to chill out at home with some relaxing instrumental jazz and freshly baked sweets, you were out patrolling Tokyo’s vibrant shopping sector instead, on the lookout for villains who wished to ruin everyone else’s holiday fun. The mall was abuzz with shoppers, some hanging out in the verandas with cup of hot cocoa in their hands, others hurrying through, their arms loaded with shopping bags, searching for last-minute gifts they had previously forgotten to purchase. It was definitely not the worst patrol ever. The cozy atmosphere almost had you sighing in contentment, before you heard a voice shout, “thief!”
Of course a villain had to ruin the fun. They had a tendency to do that. You weren’t very comfortable using your quirk in such a loud, crowded area, but you bet that you could catch a small-time shoplifter without it anyways. You raced through the crowd, tracing the voice that had called out moments earlier. You saw a tuft of orange hair weaving unnaturally through the crowd of shoppers, and sprinted forwards, your eyes locked on the target. You followed the path they had created unknowingly for you, trying not to draw attention to yourself. It would only slow you down and light a fire under the criminal, which was exactly what you didn’t need.
Within moments, you caught up to them. Sneaking up behind them, you snatched their wrist and smacked your quirk-suppressing cuffs on it.
“Fuck!” He swore. How did he get caught so quickly? He could have sworn that there was no one chasing him. Pesky heroes. Relying on the comparative lack of heroes patrolling during the holidays, as well as the customary holiday shopping rush, was a sound strategy. He had done the same in previous years without getting caught. If only that damned, nosy civilian hadn’t shouted…
“Please do not resist arrest. It will be easier for all parties involved. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. There are eyewitnesses to your crime. Please drop your bags and hold out your other wrist.” You said calmly. You had a beautiful voice. It was calming and had a lilt to it that was a byproduct of your quirk. The villain did as you said, knowing that there would be no escape.
You sighed. Pressing a button on the comms situated in your ear, you reported the situation back to your office. You then called the nearest detective station and waited until their patrol car got here so you could hand the man over. Glancing at your watch, you realized your patrol was almost over. You did one last sweep of the premises, then headed back to the agency.
Today, the agency was the emptiest you had ever seen it. It was a large building, with 20 above-ground floors. In fact, it was essentially a mini-city. There was a heated indoor pool, a sauna, an elite gym that would make fitness junkies drool, a massage and spa, three verandas, and a rooftop greenhouse. It had a café reminiscent of the UA cafeteria, and all types of cuisines were available. In fact, Lunch Rush’s niece was working in the café, and the food was always heavenly. Sometimes, heroes from other agencies would drop off at the UA Hero Agency just for a bite of food after a long patrol. It was the unofficial headquarters of all the hero agencies in Japan, and it certainly lived up to its reputation.
Thinking about the café, you were suddenly hungry for some pad thai. Arriving at the door, you dropped off your comms and cloak at the door to your office and headed down to the café for some food.
“(Y/N)!!! You’re back!” Your friend squealed.
“Yeah Mina, just got off of patrol. Arrested this shoplifter trying to take advantage of the holiday chaos.” Spying her coat in her hands, you realized she was on her way out.
“Cool! You’re always so efficient with your arrests. Anyhow, I’m going to head home. My parents and I are getting some dinner together. I’ll be back for the party, yeah? Don’t open any presents without me!” Mina waved, a grin on her face. You assured her that you would make sure everyone waited for her to celebrate. You wanted to see your parents too, but they were currently on an international tour. They were famous singers, pioneers of a new genre of music. It was a sort of lullaby, but it wasn’t meant to put people to sleep. It was more of an enchanting, calming kind of music present only in fantasy books before your mother brought it to life. She was wildly popular, and your father was only too happy to support her. Speaking of which, your phone rang in your pocket. You took it out and accepted the video call.
“(Y/N)! It’s so nice to see you baby! How’s it going? I know you had patrols today but I forgot about the time difference and your father had to stop me before I called you and distracted you during patrols! He’s always so paranoid you’ll hurt yourself, sweetie. Stay safe, okay?” Your mother was always cheerful.
“Yeah mom, I know. I’m doing pretty well, actually. I arrested a shoplifter today,” you replied, recounting the same story you just told Mina. “Everything’s pretty calm here. How’s your tour going? I missed you,” you asked her.
“That’s good to hear sweetie!” You mom smiled. “The tour is amazing. I’ve never had such an international turnout before! Maybe I need to start considering singing in other languages! Everyone’s always so supportive.” You smiled at her, happy that she was enjoying herself.
“You deserve it Mom. I’m glad that your music is appealing to an international audience. You always work so hard. It’s nice to see that people appreciate all that you’ve done.”
“Thanks sweetie. Here, I’ll let your dad talk to you for a bit.” There was a bit of shuffling on her end as she handed the phone over to your father.
“Hey sweetheart,” your father’s voice boomed through the phone. You held your phone away from your ear, wincing a bit. Quickly dialing the volume down, you responded.
“Hey Papa. Mom said the tour was going well.”
“Yeah, it is. How’s the holidays going for you?” You heard the slight sadness in his voice. You knew that he wanted Mom to take a break in the middle of the tour and spend Christmas with you, but Mom was adamant about it. It was a holiday tour, after all, and tickets had already been booked. Some people were going to see her concerts as a way of celebrating, and she wouldn’t let them down.
“I’m doing good. It’s pretty peaceful here. No big missions or anything,” you say, in an attempt to comfort him.
“Ok, that’s good to hear sweetheart. We miss you.”
“I miss you too, Papa. Don’t worry though, I’ll be here when you guys get back. Have fun in Paris!” You replied, suddenly feeling sad. “Bye Papa! Bye Mom! I’ll see you guys soon!” You blew a kiss to the camera and hung up. Sighing a little, you trotted towards Emiko, the revered chef.
“Can I have a pad thai please?” You asked, putting your phone back in your pocket.
“One pad thai, coming right up!” Emiko beamed. “So, I hear there’s a party tonight. Should I make anything special?”
You thought about it for a bit, then shook your head. “No, you don’t have to. It’s mostly just for the presents. We already have the booze covered. I think Momo is ordering some special hors d’œuvres already and Sato is taking care of the cookies. Are you coming?”
Emiko shook her head. “I’m spending the night with my family and my boyfriend. I think I might make you guys some tiramisu though. I have all the ingredients and I don’t want them to spoil since I’ll be gone for a few days. Desserts are my specialty anyways,” she added. Then, with a knowing smirk, she prodded your arm. “Do you have anyone on your mind? You know, Mina and Ochaco hung some mistletoe up before they left…”
You blushed. Of course they did. Your friends knew all about your one-sided crush. You also knew that he would still be working here. He was always working. You were pretty sure that he had the mind of a robot, focused only on his work and his legacy. With those hand motions he made, you weren’t surprised if he actually was one. You shook your head to get rid of these thoughts. Emiko didn’t know. At least, you didn’t think she knew. You really regretted telling Mina about your little crush. With her tendency to run her mouth, you wouldn’t be surprised if the entire agency knew already. With the exception of your actual crush, of course. He was simply too socially dense to see the signs and too uninterested to pry.
Taking your pad thai, you scurried away from a smug Emiko and plopped yourself down at a table. You dug into your noodles and sighed in contentment. Maybe working during the holidays wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t like you had friends who weren’t as busy as you were anyways.
You finished the last of your noodles, then got up and took your tray to the recycling area. Heading up to your office, you paused by Ingenium’s office. His door was cracked open, and you peeked inside. You had to muffle your giggles at the sight.
He was wrapping presents with such a focused look on his face that you found absolutely adorable. His brows were furrowed, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth. He had a spool of ribbons laying on the floor next to him, as well as elegant white-and-gold wrapping paper and a roll of tape. What really amused you was the pile of paper, ribbons, and tape that was bunched together and tossed aside, obviously a result of trial and error. Iida looked frustrated. He had already put his presents in boxes so that they were almost uniform in size and easier to wrap, but he was clearly struggling. You estimated that he had forty boxes littering the floor, but he only had five wrapped. You watched as he ripped off the wrapping on the newest box he had started on, muttering about how hard it was to get straight edges with the wrapping paper. Knocking lightly on his door, you stuck your head around the doorway.
“Need some help?” You asked.
Iida looked up from unspooling more wrapping paper. His face brightened at your offer.
“Yes please, (Y/L/N)-san! I would greatly appreciate your aid. I seem to be having trouble folding the paper and trying to tape it together without it sliding from its position. If you could hold the paper in place while I tape, that would be wonderful!” He looked so excited, almost like a puppy.
You smiled at his eagerness. “Of course, I’d be happy to help.”
You sat down across from him and held the wrapping paper in place while he tore off a piece of tape. The two of you worked in tandem for around an hour, until you finished wrapping all the presents. You sat back, face flushed, and surveyed your work. All forty presents, wrapped with elegant paper and tied up prettily with a gold organza ribbon, were laid out neatly on the floor. It was a satisfying sight. Rolling out your back and cracking your knuckles, you got up from the floor.
“Those were a lot of presents, Iida-san,” you yawned, stretching your arms back like a cat. “Do you want to go down and get some hot cocoa? Emiko already left, but I can make us some.”
Iida got up too. His glasses were slightly askew on his face, and he had a dazed look about him. “That would be greatly appreciated, (Y/L/N)-san. Thank you very much for helping me wrap my presents. It was irresponsible of me to leave them until the last minute.”
“Of course, Iida-san,” you replied. “We were all so busy before the holidays I’m surprised you wanted to wrap everything as fancy as you did. I know that I just stuck my presents in bags, covered them with tissue paper, and called it a day! You didn’t even buy those sticky bows, you tied them with real ribbons. That’s dedication!”
Iida blushed furiously at your compliments. It’s the perfect time to confess to her, he thought. We’re alone, and there’s no one here to see if she rejects me. He took in a deep breath, trying to muster the courage to say something to you, but before he could, you grabbed his hand and dragged him down the hallway for some much-desired peppermint hot cocoa.
Humming lightly to yourself as you lead Iida down the halls, you entered the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. Releasing his hand, you clasped your hands behind your back, hoping he wouldn’t notice how they were shaking slightly. Wow, you thought. I really did that. I really just snatched his hand like that. Ugh, he probably hated it every second of the way, he’s just too polite to say anything. God, my palms are so sweaty. Why did I do this to myself?
Unbeknownst to you, Iida was having a mental freak-out of his own. Ahh! She grabbed my hand! And she didn’t seem to hate it! Does this mean she really doesn’t mind my company? Maybe I actually do have a chance with her! No, stop, he told himself. She was probably just tired of how I was staring at her and decided to do something about it. Ugh, I was staring at her, wasn’t I? God, I’m such a creep. Iida wiped his palms on his slacks, then reached up and adjusted his glasses, trying to hide the obvious blush on his face.
“Ding!”
The elevator stopped at the ground floor, and the two of you stepped out into the lobby. The decorations had been up for two weeks already, but it still took your breath away every time you saw it. There were garlands of lights strung high all over the ceiling, and dainty little ornaments hung from the chandeliers. There was a huge Christmas tree next to the fireplace, the floor around it coated in snowy fuzz. You had to resist the temptation to jump in on multiple occasions. You couldn’t help yourself! It just looked so fuzzy and comfortable, like clouds of cotton candy…
The Christmas tree was decorated tastefully. There was a surprising lack of hero-themed ornaments, mostly due to Momo’s elegant decorating. You had all been in agreement when you refused to let Kaminari or Mineta even touch the tree.
Making your way to the kitchen, you relaxed a little when you breathed in the apple-scented candles. It was a surprising choice for a holiday scent. Usually, pine or cinnamon were much more popular scents. You had gotten the privilege to choose the candles though, and although you almost fainted sniffing at every single scent in the candle store, you decided on apple. It was nice and refreshing, with just a subtle touch towards the holiday season. You liked the change of pace from the usual holiday scents, and it seemed it was growing on everyone else too.
You stopped at the cabinets that contained the hot cocoa bombs. Emiko had seen these as an online trend with the food community, and she had made dozens of them “as an experiment”. Everyone fell in love with them (because heroes are allowed to be childish!) and they stuck. Now, the agency had an entire cabinet in the kitchen dedicated to the delightful goodies.
“Oat or regular?” You asked Iida.
Iida had, unfortunately, spaced out again. He was thinking about how cute you looked, standing on your tiptoes to reach the cabinet.
“Hello? Earth to Iida-san,” you turned around and waved a hand in front of his face. “You okay there?”
Iida blinked and had to recompose himself again. He kept getting distracted. This was not good. Not good at all.
“Regular is fine,” he replied, his face flushing once again. He really needed to stop daydreaming.
You poured out some milk into a jug and heated it. Then, you placed a hot cocoa bomb in each mug, licking some sprinkles off your fingers as you did so. Once the milk was ready, you filled each mug to the brim, careful not to spill any. It smelled absolutely delectable. Taking a spoon from the cabinets, you stirred both cups slowly, letting the chocolate melt at an even pace.
Iida was watching all of this, and he was still having an internal debate over when to confess. Would it be better to wait until you both finished the hot cocoa? Should he even confess to you on Christmas? What if his confession ruined your holidays? He began to sweat a little, his anxiety rising with each thought. Before he could come up with an excuse to escape, you stuffed a mug into his large hands.
“All done!” You exclaimed, taking a sip of your own cocoa, careful not to burn yourself.
Iida was not so lucky. Distracted by his thoughts, he raised the mug to his lips and gulped.
“Shit!” Iida swore. You blinked at him, a little shocked since he never swore, then immediately put your mug down and raced to the refrigerator to collect some ice cubes. Iida promptly put his offensive mug of cocoa on the counter, glaring at it like it just murdered his dog. Dumping some ice cubes in a glass, you hurried back towards Iida and popped one in his mouth.
“You really should be more careful next time, Iida-san,” you chided. “I just made it! You shouldn’t take such large swigs of a piping hot drink!”
“Sorry, I got distracted.” Iida replied absentmindedly.
“Distracted? By what?” Your curiosity was now piqued.
Iida’s face turned ever redder than before. He averted his eyes and mumbled out some quiet words that you couldn’t quite catch.
“Sorry, what was that?” You gazed up at him. “I couldn’t hear what you said.”
Iida’s hands were stuck to his thighs to prevent himself from freaking you out with aggressive hand gestures, and he didn’t think he’d ever been more nervous in his entire life. He cleared his throat. “I said that I got distracted by you.”
Now it was your turn to blush. “Really?” Your voice was quiet, almost a whisper. You weren’t sure if you heard that right, and your heart was beating so fast you were afraid that he’d hear it.
Iida finally looked at you. “Really,” he confirmed.
You wrung your hands and stepped towards him. Raising your eyes to meet his, your voice a half-whisper, you gulped before your next words.
“I like you.”
Blinking twice, Iida unclasped his hands and pinched his forearm. He winced in pain, then blinked again. You laughed at his antics, then clapped a hand playfully on his bicep.
“I’m real, Iida-san. I’m right here!”
Slowly, a grin crept up Iida’s face. “Really?” He mumbled, obviously still not entirely convinced he wasn’t dreaming.
You chuckled at how you had just asked the same thing moments earlier, but then you grabbed his large hand with your smaller one and squeezed.
“Really.” You smiled bashfully.
The two of you stood in silence for a while, then Iida spoke up.
“I like you too, (Y/L/N)-san.” Feeling bold now that he knew his feelings were reciprocated, he drew his other arm across your shoulders and drew you into a tight hug. You sighed, feeling comfortable and safe in his arms. A part of you wanted to stay like this forever and never wanted him to let go.
“Would you like to go on a date with me on Saturday afternoon at 3?” Iida’s voice rumbled in your ear.
You were bursting with excitement. A date! A real, formal, date! “I’d love to, but why so specific?” You giggled.
“Ahh, well, my patrol ends at 2:30, so I thought-”
Of course Iida volunteered for patrols the weekend after Christmas. Did this man ever take a break?
“No problem at all, Iida-san. That sounds lovely.”
Iida released you from the hug and rubbed lightly at the back of his neck. “You can… you can call me Tenya, if you’d like.”
You were smiling so big that you feared your face would split. “I’d love that, Tenya.” His eyes crinkled when you called him by his first name. “And you can call me (Y/N).”
Iida nodded his head. “(Y/N). I like that,” he said to himself. He muttered your name a few times, getting used to the way it rolled off his tongue. You blushed and hugged him again, pressing your nose into his chest. He was just too adorable.
You wanted to stay like that, but your phone dinging incessantly in your pocket made it uncomfortable.
Mina
(Y/N)!!! my parents ordered this WHOLE-ASS TURKEY for dinner with JUST THE 3 OF US!!! how we gon finish it all?!?
Mina
*burps*
we did it. we finished all of it.
the whole turkey.
(Y/N). we. finished. a. whole. fucking. turkey.
pls send help
i can’t walk
(Y/NNNNNNNN)!!!
(Y/N)
want me to call u an uber
…
mina
mina
MINA
MINA DID U PASS OUT
im calling an uber
mina istg
Quickly sending an Uber to the restaurant Mina was at, you put your phone back in your pocket and looked up at Tenya.
“Hey. Do you wanna get your presents and put them under the tree?” You asked.
Tenya quickly straightened up. “Thank you for reminding me, (Y/N). I had almost forgotten about them!”
“No problem!” You chirped. “Let’s go!” You took his hand in yours again and lead the way to the elevator. As the elevator chimed, the two of you waltzed in, hands still clasped together.
Humming a little tune to yourself, you stepped out of the elevator. You and Tenya entered his office, and each returned with an armful of presents, carefully stacked as to avoid damaging the delicate ribbons the two of you had spent so much time tying.
It was a tradition in the agency to get everyone something small. However, you participated in gift exchanges every year. This year, it was a Secret Santa-type exchange, but the UA Hero Agency did Secret Santa’s a bit differently. Instead of giving your partner the gift on Christmas Eve, the gifts were labeled with typed name tags in generic Times New Roman font. Then, there was the guessing portion. Everyone got 3 guesses at the party when they first open it, and after that, they get one guess per week. Whoever held out the longest (avoided being guessed) would win a batch of Sato’s homemade cookies, a week of free food from Emiko, and two patrol coupons (basically the adult version of homework passes). This year, you had drawn Bakugo as your partner. You’d decided to get him a ¥4,000 gift card to his favorite ramen restaurant, as well as a high-quality leather jacket. The gifts were pretty generic, and you thought that you had a chance at the prize. You chuckled to yourself when you remembered that last year, Momo had been so frustrated when she hadn’t figured out who had given her a pretty earring and necklace set after two months that she’d used Creation to make fingerprint dust and swiped it all over the box. It had turned out to be Todoroki. Needless to say, he’d won the prize that year.
The two of you made a few more trips, carrying gifts from his office to the tree. Checking the time, you saw that it had been an hour since Ochaco’s patrol ended. Right as you were about to call her, the front door to the lobby burst open.
“(Y/N)!!!” Your friend screeched, holding up a kitten with fur the color of cinnamon. “Look what I found on my patrol! I had to take her to the vet really quickly to make sure she wasn’t hurt, and she didn’t seem to have an owner. Just look at her!”
You beamed. The kitten was absolutely ADORABLE. And not only was Ochaco safe, she brought a kitten back with her!
“Can I hold her?” You asked.
“Duh!” Ochaco passed the kitten from her arms to yours. Behind her, you saw Bakugou walking sullenly, arms drawn tight across his chest. You stifled a giggle at the sight. He obviously wanted a turn with the kitten too, but his pride wouldn’t let him as for it.
“We were coming back from patrols and I saw this little one stuck in a tree! And when I floated up to take her down, she just looked so sad. There wasn’t a collar on her or anything, so we took her to the vet. It seems like she was abandoned,” Ochaco pouted. “And so we asked the vet to vaccinate her and everything, and we brought her back here! Can we keep her? Mr. Grumpy over there already said yes.”
Tenya looked like he was about to object, seeing as this building had a no-pets policy, but then he saw how your face lit up and the idea and changed his mind. Maybe having a pet on the premises wouldn’t be too bad, he conceded. It’s not like there were other people sharing the building with them anyways.
“Of course we can keep her!” You squealed. Bakugou huffed a sigh. He’d have to deal with all these idiots fawning over the kitten for weeks, and he wasn’t happy about that, but there was no denying that the thing was cute. He’d mellowed out since his high school days and seeing a therapist for anger management classes certainly helped.
The kitten felt warm and fuzzy in your arms, and when you stroked it down its back with the palm of your hand, it let out a satisfied purr.
“What should we name her?” Ochaco asked.
You thought about it for a moment. “Well, since you found her, and her fur is brownish, why not Coco?”
“Coco! I love it!” She beamed. Coco purred again. “It looks like she likes it too!”
You smiled and looked down on the kitty. “Coco,” You murmured. “Welcome to the family.”
Just then, Mina burst through the doors, brimming with energy and not looking at all as if she’d fainted from turkey overconsumption.
“Mina!” You ran towards her. “I thought you fainted or something!” You accused, poking her in the chest. “You didn’t even leave me on read!! You just LEFT!”
“Chill, chill, girly, I’m alive and kicking! Just had to take a quick nap because of my digestive woes,” She flashed you a big thumbs-up. “And what’s this I see? Do we have an agency pet now? Did Shinso sneak it in his pocket from the cat cafe?”
“Shinso what?”
“Cat cafe?”
“I KNEW there was something fishy about his jacket the other day!”
You, Tenya, and Ochaco said at the same time.
Mina stared at all of you, then shook her head. “Never mind.”
Turning around, you looked at Ochaco. “I wanna hear about this later, you hear?”
“Alright, alright!” Mina shouted. “Change into your holiday gear! Let’s get this rolling!”
You had made a sweater especially for tonight. Knitting was a great way to relax, and huddling up in a cozy armchair with the soft yarn, some hot cocoa, and your favorite book, you had finished your holiday-themed sweater in two weeks. Now, you would finally get the chance to wear it. The sweater you made was white, a soft gold-and-silver threading woven through in the pattern of snowflakes. It was a basic winter pattern, but you were proud of your work.
Setting Coco down on the couch, you headed into the locker rooms to change into your sweater and some flannel pajama bottoms. Walking out, you noticed Tenya was still in his business attire, which looked pretty uncomfortable by your standards, although it did fit him nicely.
“Tenya,” you called out. “Are you wearing that to the party?”
He turned around at your voice, looking slightly taken aback. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Why?”
“Nothing, just wondering,” you replied. Good thing that your present to him was a nice, cozy, hand-knit sweater. You may or may not have thought about making him a matching one, but then you’d decided that it was too forward.
“You look…” Tenya stared at you. “You look…cute,” he said, with a small blush on his face.
Blushing at his compliment, you smiled and ducked your head. “Thanks.”
“Your sweater…it looks nice,” he added.
Playing with the hems of your sleeves, you smiled up at him bashfully. “Thanks. I made it myself. I really like knitting. It’s kind of therapeutic.”
“Oh, wow. You are truly very talented, (Y/N)!” Tenya praised.
“Thanks.” You rubbed the back of your neck. It seemed like you had lost the ability to say anything else. Why did you suck so much at making small talk?
Just then, Mina stepped out from the locker room and saved you from any further embarrassment.
“Hey, has Yaomomo come down yet?” Mina asked.
“No, she hasn’t. Do you want me to go get her?” You answered.
“Nah, it’s alright, I’ll just text her real quick.” Mina pulled out her phone, fingers dancing rapidly across the screen, then put it back in her pocket. Minutes later, Momo stepped out of the elevator, already dressed in a red sweater and white jeans. She always looked so put-together. You were sure that she had a second quirk.
“Yaomomo!” Mina screeched, running up to her friend. “You’ll never guess what I ate for dinner!”
You groaned as Mina recounted her dining disaster. You loved Mina, but her tendency to tell her experiences to everyone multiple times could sometimes get a little annoying. Trying your best to tune her out, you tapped Tenya’s shoulder and moved to settle on the couch with Coco.
“Hey, (Y/N)!” Mina shouted. “Come here!”
Begrudgingly, you stood up again, having just sat down moments earlier. “What is it, Mina?”
“We forgot to introduce Coco! Yaomomo hasn’t seen her yet!”
Oh right. You did forget. You lifted Coco with both hands, then scurried over to where Ochaco, Mina, and Momo huddled. Momo let out a quiet “aww” when she saw the kitty and lifted her manicured hands in a silent invitation to hold her.
You gently placed Coco in her outstretched arms and was about to turn and leave when Mina grabbed your elbow. “Not so fast, (Y/N),” she scolded you sternly. “Picture time!”
Mina took out her phone and swiped open the camera app. You girls all huddled together as she snapped a picture for the fans.
Settling back down with Coco on the couch, surrounded by your friends, you didn’t think that you had ever felt happier. One by one, more of your friends and coworkers began to trickle in, until finally, when a disgruntled Jirou arrived with a protesting Kaminari in tow, Mina stood up.
“Alright! Everyone’s here now, so let’s get this party rolling!”
She bounced off to the kitchen to grab plates for everyone. You could smell Sato’s freshly-baked cookies from here, and your stomach growled in response. Remembering the tiramisu that Emiko had made, you followed Mina into the kitchen.
Mina held a stack of plates that covered half her face. It was wobbling slightly, the entire thing almost toppling over multiple times. You had gotten out the fancier cake platter and was currently in hyper-focus mode, carefully moving the tiramisu from its cake mold onto the crystal platter. You breathed out a sigh of relief as the process was finally completed and the cake hadn’t been ruined.
Holding the crystal tray with both hands, you stepped out into the lobby, marched over to the coffee table in the center, and slowly set the tray down.
“Hey guys, Emiko made us some tiramisu,” You called out. “Come here if you want some.” You held a cake knife in your hand and began serving everyone.
Tenya watched all of this with barely-hidden admiration. You were just so competent. So hard-working, so kind, and so wonderfully skilled at everything you do. Even the things that you weren’t good at, you tried your hardest to learn and to improve. He was definitely in deep, and to be honest, he didn’t mind a single bit. You were worthy of being admired, and he vowed that he would let you know in all the ways he could.
As you served the last slice of tiramisu to Ojiro, you carried the cake platter back to the kitchen and sat down next to Shinsou, who was, not surprisingly, hogging all of Coco’s attention. Seeing you, Coco scrambled over Shinsou’s lap and faceplanted into yours. You laughed at her enthusiasm and snorted when you heard Shinsou mutter “traitor” underneath his breath.
“So Shinsou,” you started casually. “What’s this I hear about you stealing cats from the cat café?”
Shinsou’s face immediately turned a tomato red. He put his hands up defensively. “No, wait, you have it all wrong- I swear- who told you about it anyways? Never mind,” he stopped his waving motions. You snickered. You were definitely getting the full story out of him later. For now, you had things to do.
Strolling over casually to Tenya with Coco still in your arms, you very sneakily dropped her, front paws landing gracefully, onto Bakugou’s head.
“Hey! What’s this damn cat doing here!” Bakugou yelped. Coco also yelped, and it came to you that dropping her on Bakugou’s spikey hair was probably not the best idea ever. However, as Coco quickly scampered down and curled up on Bakugou’s shoulder, and Kirishima was sitting next to him to make sure he didn’t kill the cat, you felt a sense of triumph. Bakugo was smiling. Not smirking, not grinning maniacally as he beat someone up, but genuinely smiling. You gave yourself an internal high five as you moved onto your next goal.
You walked hesitantly towards Tenya, and when he turned his head towards you, about to ask what you were doing, you quickly linked your hand with his and started leading him towards the rest of the group.
“(Y-Y/N) ?” Tenya sputtered. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” You replied cheekily. “I want to hold hands with you!”
“B-but, do they know?” Tenya gestured nervously with his free hand.
“Nope, but they’re about to,” you grimaced, thinking about all the teasing you’d have to endure from your friends later. Better to just get this over with during the party, when everyone had the attention span of a goldfish and any embarrassing moments would hopefully be forgotten moments later when more exciting things came along, such as Mineta’s annual lingerie gift. Whatever the powers that be were doing, they were definitely not doing the world any favors when they let Mineta draw a girl for the Secret Santa every single year. But, for all the bad things you could say about Mineta, he definitely consumes enough material to have at least semi-decent taste in lingerie. Surprising, and sometimes gross, but not entirely unwelcomed if you could manage to forget who gifted it. The most disturbing thing was he knew all the girls’ sizes. You tried your hardest to not think about that. It’s not like you could erase his memory anyways.
You settled down with Tenya on a vacant couch, inwardly counting the minutes until someone noticed your position. Tenya looked vaguely uncomfortable, his posture ramrod straight, and you squeezed his hand in reassurance.
“No one’s going to judge or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you whispered into his ear. “And besides, at least half the girls already knew I had a crush on you, so this won’t entirely come as news to them.”
Tenya relaxed slightly at that, then stiffened again when he noticed a pair of eyes glancing his way.
Midoriya had been excited at seeing Ochaco for the first part of the evening, but then had wondered where his other friend had gone. He knew Tsu was in southern Japan, as she couldn’t stand the cold and was operating in the warm coastal areas instead, but Iida being absent was strange. He had searched around the lobby, and when his eyes descended upon you and Iida cuddling on the couch, he was intrigued, to say the least.
He stared at the two of you for a solid minute, not wanting to disturb your peace. Slowly, he turned back to Ochaco, thinking that it wasn’t his place to draw attention to the two of you.
Ochaco, however, had no such qualms. Noticing how Deku began to space out during their conversation, she followed his line of vision to the two of you, blinked twice to check if she was seeing it right, then immediately let out a squeal.
Heads turned at the sound, and in moments, everyone was staring at you and Tenya curiously. You hadn’t noticed the attention yet, but Tenya had, and he grew stiffer and stiffer until you finally looked up at his face with furrowed brows.
“Tenya, what’s wrong?” You whispered. “Do you not enjoy cuddling? I can stop if you’d like,” your lips were pressed together in concern.
“I-it’s not that,” Tenya whispered back. “Look.”
You finally raised your head from his chest and saw thirty pairs of eyes staring back. After a few moments of silence, the room erupted.
“Iida-kun! Why didn’t you tell us?” Midoriya was the first to raise a question.
“(Y/NNNNNN)!!!!!!!!!!!” Mina practically screamed as she ran towards you. She clasped her hands dramatically over her heart. “YOU DID IT YOU DID IT YOU DID IT OMG YOU GUYS ARE SO ADORABLE EEEEE!!!!!!”
Half the room winced at her loud tone, and you quickly moved Coco from your lap to save her from the incoming bear hug.
Mina launched herself in your arms, then stepped back and shook your shoulders until you felt your brain rattling around in your skull like soupy mush.
“(Y/N)! What did I say, huh? Bitch I TOLD you that he liked you too, and you wait three goddamn months to finally make a move!?! Honey-”
Your face flushed red. Gently, you pushed her away. “Mina, stop,” you whispered, horrified that she was making a scene. It was too late. Ochaco and Hagakure rushed towards you, Momo trailing more slowly behind them. The boys were stunned for a bit, since you had always seemed so quiet and shy, much less Iida’s feelings towards you. As their initial shock wore off, Midoriya trailed after Momo to approach Iida.
“Congratulations, Iida-kun!” He held up his arms in front of his chest. “You and (Y/N) are really cute together!”
“Yeah bro! That’s so manly that you finally confessed!” Kirishima added, with a quirk of his lips and a thumbs-up.
“Tch. Fucking coward. Took you idiots three fucking months to confess, huh.” Bakugou smirked, but you could tell he wasn’t really annoyed. You actually somewhat got along with him, due to all the times Mina would drag you to hang out with her friends.
You struggled vainly against the arms of your friends encasing you. “Guys,” you pleaded. “Let me out, please.”
Reluctantly, the girls let go, and you immediately tried to redirect their attention. “Shouldn’t we start opening presents?” You asked hopefully.
“Oh, you sneaky little thing,” Mina wagged her finger in your face. “Don’t think we’ll forget about this, (Y/N), but you’re right, we should start opening presents or we’ll be here all night.”
“We’ll be here all night anyways,” Todoroki pointed out.
“You knew what I meant,” Mina sighed.
Mina enlisted the help of Ojiro and Shoji to pass out the Secret Santa presents; you’d all open the rest of your personal presents later.
The best way to go about this, after years of trial and error, was for everyone to open their presents at the same time. It would simply take too long for everyone to open theirs one by one, and you’d all realized that the people who opened theirs first had a significant disadvantage when it came to guessing who their partner was, as the ones who opened theirs later had the benefit of some options already being eliminated. When you opened your present, you tried your hardest to hold back a squeal. It was a limited-edition album from your favorite artist! You hugged it close to your chest, and immediately knew who gave it to you. Jirou. Her parents were musicians too, and you had bonded over your love of this artist. It was a thoughtful gift, and you were glad that she had given it to you, even though it immediately gave her away.
The rest of your friends opened their presents. Poor Momo. No wonder Mineta had looked so gleeful earlier. He had been her Secret Santa and had gotten her a lacy black lingerie set. Her face was so red you were beginning to get scared that she would hyperventilate, but you had to admit that it was a pretty nice set. Mineta was basically drooling at this point, and Jirou was trying to comfort her while sending a death glare towards Mineta. Mineta, meanwhile, had received a new video game. Sero had received a large pack of farmer’s market coupons, as well as some homemade mochi from Ochaco, who had blushed and apologized profusely for not being able to afford something better for him. Sero just grinned and gave her a thumbs-up, saying that it was completely okay and that he appreciated her effort into gift-giving. She had brightened up a bit at that.
Koda had received a new hamster wheel along with some toys for his various pets. Shoji had been gifted a comfortable-looking poncho, as well as three pairs of matching gloves. Ochaco had received a generous sum of money, Midoriya had gotten a new set of comic books, and Iida had received a beanie and a multiflavored pack of tea. Aoyama had received a makeup set, and had gifted a makeup set as well, evidenced by his inability to contain himself and pounced on Hagakure, asking if she liked it. Hagakure was ecstatic, babbling about how she could finally show her face and how she’d never really been able to afford a full set before and how Aoyama was so considerate.
Sato had received a new baking pan, as well as cute mittens and a trending recipe book. He had given Setsuna a batch of cookies, as well as a gallon of frozen cookie dough with instructions on how to make it. There wasn’t really a point in him trying to win the contest, since he would be one of the people providing the prize. Mina had gotten fuzzy socks and a blanket, Kirishima had received a new pair of tennis shoes, and Jirou had been gifted a new pair of headphones. Ojiro had received some sort of custom tail armor with spikes along with an Amazon gift card, and Todoroki had gotten a hand-made red-and-white sweater with a red reindeer nose smack in the middle, along with a gift card to a hair salon, tucked into a bouquet of red-and-white candy canes. The only person you could think of that would go so far into the color scheme was Hagakure, who seemed like just the type to make an ugly sweater for fun. Shinsou had received earmuffs, a silk eye mask with a note (“to help you sleep”), and some gourmet coffee beans (“in case you still can’t”). Mina had seen the little notes that came with his gifts and started teasing him relentlessly about how sweet his Secret Santa was and how it was so cute that he had a secret admirer. Shinsou looked very nonchalant about it all and grumbled about how he just wanted to pet Coco and then go to bed.
Finally, Kaminari received some Pokémon cards to add to his collection (yes, he collected Pokémon cards, what was wrong with that?) along with another Pikachu plush, as per usual. It was an unspoken tradition that whoever drew Kaminari for their Secret Santa would get him a Pikachu plush along with whatever else they decided to give him. He had about twenty, collected over various years from birthdays and holidays. If this kept up, he’d be able to fill an entire closet with them once he retired.
As the chatter slowly died down, you snuggled into Tenya again. At some point during the present exchange, Shinsou had stolen Coco from the couch you occupied. Stifling a yawn, you pulled out a bag and handed it to Tenya.
“What’s this?” He asked, a slight smile on his face.
“It’s your gift, silly,” you booped him on the nose with your index finger.
“Ah, I see,” he replied, still smiling. “Do you want me to open it?”
“Duh,” you giggled into his chest. “What else would you do with it?”
Chuckling lightly, Tenya removed the tissue paper from the top of the bag. He stuck his hand inside, then pulled out a sweater. The sweater that you’d knitted for him. It was navy, the color of the yarn matching his hair, with gold and white snowflake detailing. His heart skipped a beat when he realized that you had made this especially for him, with your own hands. Putting the sweater down beside him, he wrapped his arms around you and pressed his face to your hair.
“Thank you, (Y/N),” he whispered. “I love it.”
You flushed, but you hugged him back. “You’d better,” you teased. “I spent two weeks on that.”
“Well, I appreciate it.” Tenya ruffled your hair.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, just soaking in the pleasant atmosphere. Yawning, you stretched out your arms, careful not to hit Tenya in the face. You gently pushed his arm off of your torso and got up to go to the bathroom.
When you came back, Tenya was nowhere to be seen. You searched around the common area and stepped briefly into the kitchen, but he wasn’t there. Sighing, you grabbed your parka and padded outside.
“Tenya?” You called out as you stuck your head around the doorframe. He was with Kirishima and Todoroki, clearing the entryway of the building of snow. You leaned back along the handrails of the stairs and watched. Your friends were all just so nice. So caring, so wonderful, so kind. As Todoroki evaporated the last bit of snow, you stepped aside to let them all head back in. As Tenya reached you, he paused briefly, looking up.
“What?” You tilted your head up also, curious to see what he was staring at. Oh. So this was where Mina and Ochaco had decided to hang the mistletoe. If Tenya hadn’t looked up, you would’ve missed its existence entirely. You looked back down at Tenya to gauge his reaction.
He gulped, and softly taking your chin into his hand, he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss on your lips. You leaned up to meet him, rising slightly on your toes and wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss was long and sweet, and you were both a bit breathless when you let go.
You smiled sweetly up at him and took his strong hand in yours. Standing on your tiptoes again, you pressed another soft kiss to his cheek.
“Merry Christmas.”
Masterlist
#bnha#iida fluff#iida tenya x reader#iida x reader#iida tenya#tenya iida#tenya iida x reader#help idk how to tag this#writing#writing?#fanfiction?!?!?#hope this works#bnha imagines#bnha x reader#bnha scenarios#mha#mha fluff#bnha x y/n#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha oneshots#ingenium#bnha fluff
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I am OBSESSED with your Desmond lives AU!! I want Shaun and Rebecca to be able to give Desmond all the hugs, I want Desmond to be able to choose to be an Assassin, to be able to help save the world again. Also, I am very curious about how you would resurrect Desmond, because I’ve had similar thoughts on such an AU, but I currently stick it near the end of Valhalla with the stuff that happens there. If you ever feel like expanding on it, I'd be super excited to see more!!!
first of all, AH THANK YOU!!! Yes those are ALL points that are very important to the Des Lives AU! Second of all, thank you so much for this ask in general!!! I was hoping someone would send an ask like this so I’d get an excuse to talk abt the AU more lmao XD!! I made this AU back in March last year, so there’s no Valhalla stuff in it, and it’s set right after/ during the Odyssey DLCs.
The long story short for my Desmond Rez (rezmond, if you will) is “shroud of eden, abstergo, and some Isu bullshit”. The long story long, however, is uh- you know what? I’m going to use this opportunity to explain the vague story I worked out last year -- but dw, I WILL get to the full ressurection explanation I thought through. However... I’m gonna have to tell the story in smaller parts because I’m lazy and can’t be bothered to write the whole thing out right now. So rez comes later and not in this post.
also uh-- before we start: I’m going to apologise for like… everything about the way I wrote this. It’s sort-of half fic, half that-way-your-friends-colloquially-tell-stories-that-you-can’t-keep-up-with. Mainly the latter. If you can make sense of this babbling, well done.
Anyways, without further ado, welcome to:
POTES TRIES TO EXPLAIN HER DESMOND (SORTA) LIVES AU: PART ONE
On the 21st of December 2012, Desmond Miles dies.
It’s not for nothing -- his sacrifice saves the entire world from a solar flare -- but he is dead. big ripz. The Assassins, his family, do not manage to recover his body. Abstergo gets it first. The Assassins hold a funeral as best they can. They mourn (all in their own ways), they keep fighting (for his memory), and they try to move on (they can’t).
On the 21st of December 2012, Desmond Miles died -- so when he shows up in a city in October 2018, almost 6 years later, it’s a bit of a shock for everyone. What’s even more of a shock is the fact he’s glowing like an Isu and has some abilities he DEFINITELY didn’t have when he died.
So Desmond wakes up in the middle of some city in he doesn’t know where (yeah ok i just never really worked out where the secret lab would be), with 1. no idea of how he got there and 2. no idea why his arms are glowing like that. He doesn’t get much time to think about it because then there’re a load of Abstergo goons with guns surrounding him. Des may have no idea what’s happening, but he knows one thing: when u see an Abstergo, it’s on sight. So he’s fighting them -- which is admittedly not fun or easy when you’re in the middle of a road and only have your fists as weapons. It’s not going well and then someone definitely manages to shoot Desmond which is very bad -- but then Des feels some very weird (but not unfamiliar) feeling and when he looks up from the bullet wound, every one of the Abstergos are on the floor???? He doesn’t think to check if they’re dead, just legs it out of there lmao.
//
Elsewhere, in an Assassin safehouse in an undisclosed location (can you tell I just didn’t think about the geography of anything), Mr Shaun Hastings is chilling on a balcony after a mission well done. Good for him. Then Rebecca Crane (queen ilu) yells “Shaun?” from inside.
“Rebecca?”
“Come inside. Now.”
Shaun immediately does so because he assumes it’s important or they’re under threat. “What happened? Have we been compromised?”
Rebecca doesn’t answer.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Shaun says, mostly joking and with a little smirk -- though Becs looks spooked.
“Desmond’s alive.”
Shaun’s not smirking anymore. “What?”
“Desmond’s... he’s alive.”
“What are you talking about? Are you high?” he’s totally about to look at her eyes to see if they’re all dilated and druggy.
“No Shaun, I mean it!” Becs harshly shoves her tablet into his hands.
Shaun doesn’t really know what he’s expecting to see when he looks down at the screen. What he’s not really expecting to see is Desmond Miles, who’s been dead for six years, fighting a load of Abstergo people -- while lined in Isu markings (also he’s not wearing a shirt forgot got to mention). ??? But wtf??!?! Desmond’s dead. That’s...
“It’s security camera footage from [the city]... About two hours ago.” Rebecca then swipes through more footage with shaky hands and explains that Des very violently burst out of an Abstergo facility in the city with glowing eyes and light leaking out of him (almost like an Apple of Eden). Then the glowing eyes and shining lights shuts off abruptly and Des is standing in the middle of the road looking very confused at his precursor-ass arms and chest. But Shaun is barely listening to what she’s saying and barely even looking at the screen.
“Where did you get this?” Shaun asks with a hollow voice, not looking up.
“The Initiates.” (bc who else)
Shaun looks at it again, then at Rebecca, and he’s mildly aware of the fact he’s slightly tearing up; “That’s fake. That can’t be him. He’s dead, Becs. We both saw the…” They both saw the autopsy footage the ac4 researcher got from Abstergo -- or at least, tried to watch it; they shut it off as soon as Shaun ran to the bathroom to throw up and Rebecca quickly joined him. They spent the rest of that night crying and drinking way too much.
“He died.” Shaun concludes firmly.
And so Becs is all like “yeah but what if he didn’t?? We need to find him. We need to investigate this.” There’s a determination in her eyes and Shaun knows he’s not going to be able to convince her to drop this -- not that he would. Desmond might be alive, and there is no way they’re going to leave him again.
They’re both standing there in pure shock and confusion, not saying anything.
Rebecca’s comm device lights up and starts buzzing, snapping them out of their general ????-ness. Becs goes to her desk to grab it, glances at the caller id and then shows it to Shaun. It’s William Miles.
The two of them share a Look. They know what he’s calling about -- what else would it be? There’s a stilted moment of neither of them doing anything before Rebecca finally accepts the call. “William?”
“How quickly can you and Shaun get to [city]?” William sounds shaken -- probably the same way Rebecca and Shaun are -- which is a very weird way to hear the Mentor of the Brotherhood sound. He’s seen the footage, hasn’t he?
“In a few hours,” Rebecca replies.
“Good. You need to get there as soon as possible.”
Everyone’s silent for a few moments.
“Is this about Desmond?” Rebecca asks. Dumb question.
There’s a pause. “You’ll be briefed on the ground.” And then he hangs up before Shaun or Rebecca can yell at him.
This is all moving very fast. Shaun and Rebecca share another look. Guess they’re going to [city]. ???
//
Fast forward several hours and Rebecca and Shaun are in The City [might just have to make the city london bc it’s the one city i actually know well -- however for plot reasons we’ll see later, a swiss city might be better… moving on!]. They get to an assassin base and meet up with Galina Voronina and 2 local assassins. Idk if you’ve read the comics, but to sum things up quickly, Galina and her team were investigating and then ended Project Phoenix -- so Galina now really wants to find out if the whole Desmond thing has anything to do with that.
Galina also wants to help Shaun and Rebecca get their friend back. They’re her friends, but equally she just lost one of her teammates to Abstergo (while ending Phoenix like 2 months ago, in the comics) and is uh- idk how to say it but she wants to help Shaun & Becs who have a chance to get their lost teammate back.
What follows is cool gang-gang trying to track down any trace of Desmond. You’d think it wouldn’t be hard to find a person who literally glows, but Desmond’s had centuries of Assassin training and knows how to hide lol.. which is making the Assassins’ job harder lol.
What’s making it even harder is the Assassins know they have to be quick because they know Abstergo is gonna be looking for Desmond too -- and they have way more resources and stuff. That being said, they’re also currently dealing with the fact one of their building and a decent amount of their guards just got absolutely mullered by weird-glowing-desmond.
The third issue with their entire thing is that they have no idea what they’re going to find when they find Desmond -- or if he even is Desmond. Is he going to be the man they knew but with weird powers? an Abstergo isu-clone? evil? they don’t know, and so they know they’ve got to be wary with him.
The Assassin gang spend some time (a couple of days at the very most) trying to track Desmond down. Rebecca is using all the tech she can get her hacker mitts on to find a trace of him and equally throw Abstergo off Des’ trail.
Soon enough, they get a solid lead -- don’t ask for the specifics, i don’t know them. But they get a lead, and it winds them up in an abandoned apartment building or also abandoned building site or something (a building in the city where there aren’t any people, basically).
Galina scans the place with Eagle Vision and she’s like “There is something very strange about this place.” (someone?) But she doesn’t see a person-shape anywhere. The 5 of them are hopeful but somewhat on edge.
They go about searching for any sign of Desmond. Galina’s pretty sure her Eagle Vision is just… Messing Up A Lot lol. Like something’s trying to heck with it. So she’s not quite sure it’s working correctly when a load of red figures appear somewhere below them.
She becomes a lot more sure when the red figures come into sight and START SHOOTING AT THEM! IT’S ABSTERGO!! CRAP! they found them!!
The assassins get down and a really cool fight scene w them vs the Abstergos in the building/ building site starts playing out. Woo Shaun and Rebecca electro-hidden-blade moments!! The fight splits the squad up and Shaun and Rebecca are away from Galina & the others -- but they dispatch the Abstergo guards near them.
They’re about to radio in that they’re all okay/ check if Galina & co are also good when they hear a slightly-too-loud footstep. They whip around to see an Abstergo guard aiming right at them, too far for either of them to get him before he shoots them. crap crap crap.
They would have been shot -- if someone hadn’t come up behind the Abstergo guard and snapped his neck (ouch).
The Abstergo drops to the ground, revealing the person who saved them and… Shaun and Rebecca stare in shock.
They’re both looking at Desmond Miles.
Desmond Miles, who is very much alive (and wearing a hoodie that is 100% stolen). And… with a load of glowing yellow lines on his face. But it’s Desmond -- it’s Desmond for sure. Holy shit.
Desmond doesn’t seem so shocked, only relieved to see them. Then his expression turns into serious confusion;
“What the fuck is happening?”
///
ok sorry leaving it there for now! hope you enjoyed what is here will continue soon
#desmond (sorta) lives au#desmond miles#rebecca crane#shaun hastings#galina voronina#william miles#Assassin's Creed#THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK i saw it this morning and have spent the day wanting to write this down but being in lessons /:#i know it's a complete mess however you'll have to excuse me i got excited#you opened a can of worms darling anon#I know I just used it as an excuse to Go Off but uh... sorry lol#asscreed#potes wrotes#sort of#thanks for the ask!#the night that the sun came up
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21
(ask game) thank you so much for playing the game!! you’re the best (per usual)!!
Helllll yeahhhhh 21 is the DUMBEST STUPIDEST fic I’ve ever made and I lovvveee it 💚💙❤️ it’s the “Vampire Zombie” one i mentioned in the original ask game post 😂😂
So glad someone picked the number!! Background to keep in mind: do yall remember when there was just a shit ton of Vampire fics on FFN?? Idk about ao3, but for newer fandom members this was TOTALLY a trend in the early 2000s on ffn, and I was like why the fuck are all of these here??? And like, why is it constantly a predator-prey relationship between the rrb and ppg??? So I was like wait…okay, but this could be funny and decided to write a story making fun of these super cringey stereotypes.
The story would be a multi fic and I have zero idea how to explain it concisely, so basically below the cut is just me laying it all out for you srsly I’m just bearing my soul to you:
For the girls’ birthday, the Professor tricks out the simulation room they train in to be a VR game room b/c the girls had talked about VR once (and only once), but the Professor thought it was cool and ran with it. The Girls can create a world of their choosing and explore. They admit the idea is pretty cool and eventually start arguing where they should “go” first. Blossom suggests a historical era like the Victorian era/Bubbles suggests something romantic, where she hints at vampires/Buttercup doesn't like any of those ideas, but the vampires reminded her of all of her zombie videogames she plays and she ends up suggesting something like that instead/ To prevent arguing the Professors says he’ll combine all three ideas into one!
[[how does this machine work??? IDK in the spirit of early 2000 fanfics, anything complicated and confusing is only vaguely explained—which has in story effects that drive Blossom INSANE! Idk how it would work technically, but my choices as the writer on what is/is not describe and purposeful grammar mistakes has story implications] [ill explain this more later]]
The Professor loads up the “game,” but something malfunctions. He tells the girls (Buttercup) not to touch anything. She doesn't listen and ends up plugging something into an entirely different device against Blossom & Bubbles protest. The device is that old “time machine” thing the Professor made in one of the OG cartoon (the one where the girls meet the Young Professor). It turns out that whatever she does (again still don't ask me how) fuses the basic concept of the two machines together and creates a device that transports them to a parallel universe that matches the specifications of the “game” they wanted to create.
[[Throughout the story, i want to include little video game gags, like bottomless bags for storage, or random bullets laying around, little things like that. (they've lost their powers/ but BC keeps finding all these random guns/knifes so they're good) I also give the girls the “ability” to read the dialogue I write. So, when I mess up a comma (i.e. Let’s eat Grandma! vs Let’s eat, Grandma!), Blossom will look at the “character” they’re talking to and be like, “WELL, which is IT!?”] [I know it’s stupid, but I think its so fun!]]
So, because of the video game “glitch,” the girls think for the longest time they’re actually IN a video game, but when they “go to sleep” thinking that’ll save the game and they can quit, per Professor’s instruction, they find out they can’t. Cue freak out. After the calm down, Buttercup’s like okay, listen we probably just have to beat the game! Too bad they don’t know what the game’s objective is exactly. They just know they’re dressed in Victorian Era clothes and their “Professor” is the town’s doctor? Their mother died (tragically). It’s all a bit dramatic. They start searching for clues. Eventually, they find out that the Town has a zombie problem (THANKS BUTTERCUP!), and Blossom figures if they can cure that, they beat the game. Unbeknownst to them, they are actually stuck in a stupid vampire love plot there just happens to be zombies. [Like, you can’t have one supernatural creature without another and I wasn’t going to write about werewolves.] No one in town seems to care about the undead problem. Buttercup keeps “leveling up,” Blossom’s on the verge of a breakdown, and then, finally, Bubbles meets Boomer.
Boomer swears up and down Bubbles is his fated mate. Bubbles—who is definitely interested—is like ooo so you’re a vampire, cutie? He’s broody about it. She’s like so do you sparkle in the sun?? (I absolutely love sparkles, she says). He’s like, wut?? She’s like, do you sparkle???? He’s like, uh no, the sun kind of burns my energy tho. She’s like, oh. Okay. I see. You don’t sparkle. Sooo, well, haha, okay you seem like a really really sweet guy with the whole eternal devotion thing, but I don’t think this is really going to work out between us. He’s again like WUT. Boomer gets broken up with because he doesn’t sparkle.
Vampire Butch is flat out scared of Buttercup. Like he fully admits he’s sucked infants dry of their blood; he’s why people should fear the night; he’s not a “good guy”; but BC is a force to be reckoned with. In the Victorian era, I’m guessing they had little to no experience with the modern day “bro” and BC is full on bro. This doesn’t mesh well with Butch’s broody, dark, vampire thing he’s got going on. She’s too vulgar for a Victorian lady, she wears things called “Chacos,” and she has a gun??? Multiple guns. And He. Has. No. Fucking. Idea. What. She. Is. Saying!! No! He will not “dab her up!” No, he “doesn’t lift.” This wasn’t his mysterious, tough (but still a damsel, mind you) mate he met one fateful evening, this was some heathen creature (and this is coming from a vampire), so please, please, please, can he kill her?????
Blossom’s like I don’t like to be touched and I’m a lesbian, and Brick’s like one) I think I respect you more than the old Blossom; two) the zombies just appeared, stop asking; three) you need to now help us find our mates before their eighteenth birthday or we’re all screwed.
Ready to kick ass and fight sexist stereotypes with their new “bros,” the girls set out with their new objective, hoping beyond hope that once they find the missing girls they’ll be able to go home. The girls find out that their parallel alternatives went disappearing a few days ago, so their “return” had been a relief to the whole town. [[Blossom’s like why did no one question our clothing?!?! Why are there zombies?!?!]]
ugh and then, I don’t know what happens :( really. I never really ended it. They girls just constantly shit on the boys being broody vampires and kick zombie ass, like idk what else a gal could want out of a story. I feel like they end up finding the other girls. And I think that I was going to bring HIM into the mix, but it’s still just regular HIM. It turns out that HIM likes jumping dimensions to make the Girls life hell in every lifetime and has cursed the three girls living in the vampire dimension. (“I’ve got a life outside of just you, ya know.” HIM huffed, “What are you three doing here?”) It also turns out that out of all the dimensions, our Girls as Superheroes are the best at beating HIM and saving the day, so he’s extra pissy that they’re ruining his carefully crafted “historical romance vampire soap opera.” Blossom loses her shit because the historical inaccuracies are too high to now ignore, Bubbles is pissed because HIM didn’t make good enough vampires, and Buttercup’s like honestly, not a bad game, ngl. Everyone ignores her.
[[They beat HIM, free the other girls, return home, and BC obsesses over their stats sheets. Back in Vampire land, the boys are like wait a second the relationships we are now stuck in suck.] [The zombies are still not explained]]
#21#is such a good number#my outlines#my writing#outline ask game#ppg fic outline#this is so stupid but come on I miss early 2000 fanfics#also like i said I don't know how i would even write the gaming glitches#but it would be really fun to figure out#maybe i WILL write this one someday just for the fun of it!!#lemme kno what you think#this is my last one tonight but plz keep on asking lol
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a lil 2021 love
now that the entire world has entered 2021, i want to wish you all a very, very happy new year!! i don’t think i need to express how shitty 2020 was as a whole, so i won’t be going into detail. but, i do have to count my blessings.
this year brought me to tumblr, and in doing that, brought me close to a group of people i never expected to meet. people that i am utterly thrilled to call my friends, and people who have been there for me through thick and thin. i know y’all are probably sick of long posts, but here we go again!
HAPPY NEW YEAR TO EVERYONE!!!! 🥰✨
—🤍
✨ @ickle-ronniekins erica. i honestly can’t even begin to express what our friendship, and what you, mean to me. you were one of the first weasley twin blogs that i found back in march/april ish and i honestly have been so inspired by your work ever since. whether it be who you are as a person, or the way that you write, i’m constantly learning from you and i couldn’t ask for more in a friendship. we’ve learnt so much about each other (like how we both cry at everything and love reading sappy books) and it’s been truly an honour getting to know you. your messages never fail to crack me up and i’m so glad our friendship has extended its boundaries so we can continue to blossom as two dorks. 🤍
✨ @theweasleysredhair oh, my goodness. chloe. where do i even start. firstly, thank you for being such an amazing person. you radiate such positive vibes and i’m eternally grateful for your sunshine presence. you crack me up to no ends (“he was right up my arse in the foeh” is a personal fave) and i cherish every conversation we share. i have adored being an fbi bitch with you and fighting crime like the badass bitches that we are. never a dull moment with you, my friend. love u so very very very much & can’t wait to continue being geeks together.
✨ @wand3ringr0s3 haaaaaaley. my dude. my gamer. you are just an incredible soul. whether it be your fic ideas, or the way that you always have an answer for something, you really are a complete joy of a human being and i have adored getting to know you over the course of these last 10 months (omg??? 10months???) you’re never short on pictures and press panels, and you’ve always got the deets. plus, your writing is absolutely impeccable and i can’t begin to express how much i absolutely adore your fics. plus, your disney series just tugs at my heart bc i love that idea so much. love you so much, my friend, and can’t wait to make more memories in 2021!
✨ @diary-of-an-onliner theaaaaa. my wife. my bb. i just really love you. i never know what you’re going to say, or send (like some very cursed pics) but i honestly adore every single interaction we’ve shared. you’re an amazing person and an equally amazing friend. your positivity is insane and the way your support just flows out — we all just really adore you. i have also enjoyed being in the fbi force with you (for legal reasons, that’s a yoke🍳) and laughing at the smallest things together. please keep being you because i have never met anyone like you and i treasure you more than you know.
✨@harrypotter-and-the-onering YOU. you are just. you are amazing. a ray of sunshine. a positive little beam of energy and i love it. i also love all of your dog pics that you send. but more seriously, i love you. you are an incredible friend. like, you’re the dream friend everyone wants. and after your message that made me cry this morning, i mean that more than ever. you’re always bringing positivity and adore hearing your life stories. you’re so fascinating and i’m glad that we get to ring in the new year as friends! you mean so much to me (you and your thorin posters) and i’m beyond blessed that i get to call you a close friend.
✨@theweirdsideofstuff martyyyyynnnaaaaa you are just a wonderful soul. you always send the sweetest things and i love how we can always talk about anything and everything. plus, you have the cutest cats and i love your taste in tv shows (finally someone i know who watches money heist lmaoooo) so just keep being you and i promise, we’ll all continue to love you. wishing you the best in 2021!
✨@pit-and-the-pen ok, firstly. you’re one of the most talented people i know. your singing? perfection. plus, i just adore how you’re always there for people. i cherish all of our chats, and will continue to cherish the chats to come. plus, you’ve also got the coolest hair. you’re just so cool. if i were to think of one person who fits the word “dope” it would be you. love u so very very much and i can’t wait to continue being friends!
✨@thoseofgreatambition leeann!!! i just love you. you are just a fun, bubbly presence and i adore your spirit. you’re impossibly sweet and loving and i love all the stories you share. except last night. i didn’t enjoy our peppa convo. that will haunt me for the rest of my life. but im sending you oodles of love and am thrilled to know that we’ll continue to chat and dork out together into the next year!!
✨@elf-punk AHHH okay, firstly, you little genius you — this year you gave us all the greatest gift by bringing us together. when you created this group, i never expected to ever be where we are now. from our thirsting, to our conversations about spn, i’m so glad to have found a friend like you. you’re so intelligent and fun and i adore you in every sense of the word. love u so much.
✨@thatfuckingliardavidtennant ahhhh you beautiful, beautiful person, you. firstly, i’m jealous of everything about you, really. from how gorgeous you are inside and out, to the fact that you’ve met pretty much all of my celeb crushes. you never fail to bring a smile to my face (again, except last night when you brought forth the most cursed knowledge known to mankind) and i love your energy so much. so here’s to 2021 where i hope we can continue to be close friends!!!!
and to a few others. my thumbs are getting sore from typing this so i’m going to try my best and remember (as well as cherish) all of you who have been there through this crappy year and brought a smile to my face. love you all more than words can say and hope that we can create more whack ass memories in the next year! 🥰🤍
✨@vogueweasley @starlightweasley @feetoffthetablee @valwritesx @breadqueen95 @darthwheezely @whiz-bangs78 @gcdric @loony-loopy-lupinn @lumosandnoxwriting @slytherinsunrise @cappsikle @thisismynerdyself AND LOADS OF OTHERS THAT IM FORGETTING IM SORRY ILY ALL
and of course, to a few people who i don’t interact with much but have always been a wonderful presence:
✨@deanfanatic @kpopgirlbtssvt @thisismysketchbook @pigwidgexn @phuvioqhile you guys are so, so supportive and lovely and i cherish all of you to no ends. your comments and replies/likes make my day! love you all and hope you all stay safe and happy. 🤍
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(I was gonna save this for tomorrow, but FUCK IT)
Eyyy, still being salty over here. Pls block the tag ‘rant’ if you don’t wanna see anymore of these. Or maybe ‘anti-scott mccall’ though, tbh, I’m not sure how much fun it would be to follow me if you aren’t anti-scott mccall. I’m pretty vocal abt disliking him.
ANYWAY.
I wanna talk about the concept of Derek being a ‘creeper’ because of all his wandering around the lacrosse field, at lydia’s party, etc. And by talk about, I mean ramble about incoherently. By which I mean, please know that I’m not trying to insult or fight anybody who makes this joke or uses this concept in fic or whatever. I’m just ranting bc I love this boy and his trauma makes me sad.
ANYWAY. (This is insanely long, so I’m adding a “Read More”)
I just have a lot of feelings about people seeing Derek as a stalker/creeper because he keeps showing up at lacrosse practice and in Scott & Stiles’ rooms, etc. It gets mentioned in loads of fics (I see a lot of “Creeperwolf” which I think is supposed to be an endearment?) (And there’s lots of fics that talk about how ‘you used to be/are really creepy, following us around’ Again, not judging) (Dude it’s even a whole tag on AO3 ‘Creeper Derek Hale’) and it’s joked about a lot in fandom (the vine with the ‘every step you take’ song and the swans on the building comes to mind). I see it a lot, and dude, it hurts me.
Let’s look at Derek’s current mental state and what he’s been dealing with, going all the way back to Paige. (Or, tbh, his birth)
Derek is a werewolf. He was born a werewolf, to a family of werewolves. He grew up within the supernatural world, in a whole different culture to humans (honestly, my fury at the lack of werewolf culture/history/worldbuilding is worthy of its own post. Let me know if by some ungodly chance, you actually wanna hear my thoughts on it.) and presumably the number one rule in all of werewolfdom is “Keep the Secret.”
Now, Derek’s fuckin’ 14/15 (I put his birthday on Christmas, like most of fandom, and if his house burned down when he was 16, in the spring, and he was dating Kate for a while before, he would’ve dated her when he was 15, and we don’t know how long there was between paige and kate, but let’s give him a summer of mourning. So. 14ish with paige) and he starts dating this human. He’s kinda shit at keeping the secret, implying that either he’s only dated werewolves before, or she’s his first girlfriend ever (also implying that maybe some of the people on his basketball team are werewolves, bc they don’t seem to notice his weird way of talking [pack members maybe? fuck, my heart]) and he’s maybe not as careful as he should be. (More implications arise, and we begin to build our own history. If Derek was never taught not to say dumb shit like ‘i caught a scent’ then was he even in public school before freshman year? Were the Hales all homeschooled before high school to help keep the secret? How soon do wolfy abilites arise? Do they hit with puberty? Fuck, I digress.) He says some dumb shit, and Paige gets suspicious.
Of course, he doesn’t know that, and he has some kind of meltdown about her eventually finding out his secret. We hear from Peter (who’s villainized, so we’re not supposed to necessarily believe what he says, but what we see in the flashback doesn’t make a huge amount of sense either so *shrug*) that he enlists Ennis to bite Paige, believing that if she is bitten she won’t spill the secret and she’ll be more inclined to accept that Derek is a werewolf.
Now, she fucking dies. Paige dies in Derek’s arms because of this, and he finds out at the last second that she already knew the secret. He feels guilty enough abt getting her killed but now he’s got a whole new batch of guilt from finding out that apparently he’s so bad at keeping the secret of his ENTIRE SPECIES that she found out he was a werewolf. She could’ve exposed them all at any time. He had to be terrified.
Next, he’s 15/16 and he meets a gorgeous older woman who presumably showers him in affection, and all the horrors that go with that whole situation (I don’t wanna go into detail, because obviously). But again, whether Derek tells her himself or she just knew or she finds out, whatever it is, Kate knows Derek and his family are werewolves. AND SHE KILLS THEM ALL. Derek has no clue what the fuck is going on. All he knows is he is the only link between Kate and his family, which must mean that it’s his fault she knows about them. Once again, he’s revealed the Big Secret and people Died.
He and Laura bolt to NY for six years, where presumably they live in hiding thinking the Argents are coming after them to finish off the Hales. Then Laura gets sent a funky letter and goes back to Beacon Hills. Now, we have a lil more confusion (i’ve got a whole buttload of issues with the timeline, but let’s not get into that now) because he says he came looking for Laura, but later he mentions that he knew she was in Beacon Hills and was searching for...whoever burnt down their house...that whole plotline confuses the shit out of me (derek knew kate did it. he blamed All the argents, but he knew kate was involved. So why was Laura looking for the pendant. and if he didn’t tell her then why was he looking for the pendant?? And what did the pendant have to do with the deer and the spiral?? Halp.) but whatever. He shows up and finds his sister dead, the hunters arrive in town the next day, and suddenly there’s an angry alpha Attacking Humans.
We’re finally in the present. Derek has lost what little family he had left, except for a catatonic uncle. He already has two instances in his past where the worry of keeping werewolves a secret has caused deaths. And now there’s this teenager. No, actually, two teenagers. One who was bitten, and one who shouts out “You’re a werewolf!” in the middle of the preserve, instantly figuring out a centuries-old supernatural secret.
Derek is fucking terrified, and things are only getting worse.
This kid who got bitten? Derek follows him to see if he’s really a wolf, to find out if he knows what’s happening to him, if he believes the other teen. He finds the kid JUMPING OVER PEOPLE’S HEADS in broad daylight in front of everyone. Derek might’ve had a couple verbal giveaways but this is just ridiculous. Then, even better, the kid goes on a date on the FULL MOON with THE YOUNGEST ARGENT.
There’s about a billion reasons to follow Scott to the party. It’s a FULL MOON, for one. HE’S WITH AN ARGENT for another. And of course he can’t just walk into the party. He’s fucking 22 for fuck’s sake. This is a high school party. He’d get arrested. And of course he doesn’t introduce himself to Scott beforehand. He has no way of knowing if this kid is on the Alpha’s side. He’s the Alpha’s Beta, it would make perfect sense for him to be obeying the Alpha. OR since he’s with the Argent, maybe he’s working with them. Maybe he’s a plant of some kind. a hunter pet. Laura was used as bait to catch Derek, why not Scott too?
But he sees quickly that Allison has no clue what’s going on, at least with Scott, and he takes her home and steals her jacket to lure Scott into the Preserve where he can’t hurt anyone. Then, when he sees Scott get chased by the hunters, with no Alpha coming running to protect him, he decides “Alright, guess this kid’s my ally. Gotta protect him.”
Yeah. He says some weird shit. But the evidence points to Derek not knowing much about bitten wolves. He tells Scott that he doesn’t know how to train a bitten wolf, but he does know how to help Scott recover memories (the memory loss appears to only happen in the early days of shifting, which lends more credibility to the possibility that born wolves don’t start shifting properly until later in life [puberty being the most likely milestone] and he therefore has experience with that, but not with the kind of control Scott needs, that he’s known his whole life). Born a werewolf, he’s never considered the bite anything other than a gift. He also just lost his entire family, so sue him for trying to find some kind of connection between them. (It honestly makes total sense for him to use the term ‘brothers’ bc he KNOWs Scott won’t understand the concept of ‘pack’ yet)
So, now that’s decided to help Scott, to protect him, he goes back to the school. SURELY now that Scott knows what he is and how dangerous he is when stressed, he’ll reign himself in during lacrosse, or even just back out of it altogether. There are lives at stake here, be them human, or if Scott exposes the secret, werewolves. SURELY this kid wouldn’t put everyone in danger over a fucking game.
But no. Not only does he keep flaunting his abilities, but he SHIFTS ON THE FIELD. If Stiles hadn’t Dragged Scott out of there, the entire supernatural world would be EXPOSED by this ONE KID.
Derek passed Terrified about a hundred miles back. He’s gotta be fucking out of his mind with fear. I don’t blame him even a little for threatening Scott. If Scott’s not gonna do the right thing on his own, then threatening him is worth it if people don’t DIE.
Then, bc Scott’s a pissy baby and goes to shout at him and be a fuckwad, and Stiles is nosey and neither of them have boundaries (I love Stiles, but fucking seriously, digging up a grave?) Derek gets ARRESTED. He pleads with this lanky teen who is brave enough to climb into the cruiser with a WEREWOLF. Who’s FRiends with a Werewolf. Who figured it out so quickly. He pleads with him to understand how dangerous this is, to stop his friend.
And Stiles looks like he’s gonna, but Scott bolts bc of the wolfsbane (Which...listen if I’m being really salty, a deep bitter part of me genuinely wonders if he was that freaked out, or if he overheard Derek beg Stiles not to let Scott play, and Scott ran away from Stiles so he wouldn’t get told no, bc he wanted to play.) and by the time Stiles finds him he’s already dressed for the game.
And DEREK WAS RIGHT. Scott DID lose control. He DID shift on the field. At LEAST one human saw him shift, and the coach for the other team knew something was up too. He DID expose them, and he did it further bc Jackson is suspicious now.
Now, I’ve reblogged a gifset of it before, the moment when Derek shows up at the lacrosse field and finds Jackson standing in it after Scott’s run off, staring at a glove with a claw hole in it.
He is watching his worst nightmare come true. Scott has exposed them and Jackson is going to figure out werewolves, just like Stiles did. He knows right that instant that people are going to die.
I’ll reiterate what I said in the tags on that gifset. It’s extremely likely that Derek bit Jackson out of self-preservation. Jackson had been threatening to tell the hunters and the entire world if he didn’t get what he wanted. The safest thing to do was give Jackson the bite so that at least he would be putting himself in danger too if he exposed werewolves. He forced Jackson to have to keep the secret for himself because he knew Jackson wouldn’t do it for anyone else. (And he knew Jackson had some self-preservation, compared to Scott, and wouldn’t want to expose himself.)
Listen, I just. I just get so sad watching Derek sneaking into people’s rooms and standing on the edge of the field and showing up in the locker rooms. He’s trying to help. He’s trying to protect. He wants to be there in case Scott does something stupid (which he does, again and Again) to protect him, even after Scott REFUSED to help him stop a SERIAL KILLER because there wasn’t anything in it for him. Even after Scott fucking blackmails him by leaving him hanging on a grate with wires plugged into his side and his abuser on their way back to hurt him, he still helps him protect Allison (who watched him be tortured and did nothing. [He still has the capacity to acknowledge that it’s not her fault. That she couldn’t save him. He doesn’t blame her for it and he certainly doesn’t want her to die.])
He wants to keep his Betas safe. He stands in the parking lot waiting for them to test Lydia because he doesn’t want them to have to go through with killing her alone (and he only tries to kill her because she DOESN’T pass the test [although I admit it’s a dumb test] and because the kanima is KILLING people. More people have died and I don’t know how the fuck Derek manages to keep standing, let alone having such capacity for empathy and optimism and sarcasm after everything he’s dealt with.
He’s constantly being hunted by hunters or humans, or fuck even Scott himself, since every time Scott gets upset he blames Derek for everything (I’m still fucking disgusted that he turned up at Derek’s place and accused him of murdering his own sister.) And STILL he shows up. No matter how many times he’s shoved away and ignored and yelled at. He shows up and he stands on the fringes and he waits for the chance to help.
And what’s creepy about that?
#personal#rant#Fuck i love Derek and I'm so fucking sad#i have a lot of feelings okay?#like I said#i'm not judging people who use the concept in fics or who make the jokes or whatever#i'm just talking about my own feelings#anti-scott mccall#Meta Ramblings
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Hey guys... so i just re-wrote the very first chapter to my fic.
I did it bc of many factors, but mainly it was bc I didn’t like it anymore and I noticed how much my writing had improved. It just didn’t seem fair that the ending was much better written than the beginning, bc i feel like no one would get past the first chapters bc of my writing. I mean yeah, it has much more attention that i could hope for, but i’m pretty self-critical about my work, so i just had to re-write it.
Anyway, I’ll just post the chapter here because I want you to give it another chance, maybe it spikes your interest now. I’m putting a whole lot of effort in the ending, it’s got just a couple of chapters left, so it will be a finished fic soon.
Here it is:
(bill cipher x dipper pines. pirate au. pirate!bill. siren!dipper.)
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The gigantic ship swayed calmly over the ocean. The night was clear, the fresh salty scent of the sea lingered on the deck of the Golden Giant. The only sound besides the water below the ship, crashing small waves on the wooden walls of the ship, was the croaking sound of the captain's footsteps on the wood.
The crew had already released the plank, readying the ship for what they had been planning to do for months. And so, they stood, expectant and eager for what was to come, waiting for orders on deck.
The blond captain walked out of his cabin with a grin on his face. See, their crew had been waiting to catch this creature for months, but he had been waiting years. Oh, captain Bill Cipher knows about sirens. He knows how those beasts slaughter his kind. But he is not afraid of them, not a single ounce! The pirate also know how difficult it can be to catch one, he has heard countless stories and legends, none of them have succeeded. However, there has never been a legendary pirate that has tried to capture a siren.
Indeed. Bill Cipher is a legend. He has been living in the sea for as long as he can remember, and it has slowly become his life as a whole. Since he was a little boy, he was not only charming and ambitious but also highly curious. The supernatural and mystic myths spiked his interest from a very early age, so his drive for adventure and the unknown has never ceased.
Bill Cipher had always been so invested on mysteries, that he became a mystery himself.
The captain seeks creatures — all around the seven seas, and of any kind or species — studies them, and then sells them. The highest bidding of gold takes the price! Cipher doesn't need the creature anymore, what else could he do with them? Set them free? Now that would be insane. Setting them free means letting them go for free. If they won't pay, Cipher won't deliver. Besides, it's none of the blond's concern what the bidders do with the creatures after they buy them. Will they study them as he does? Will they slaughter them? Will they cook them, even if they're still alive, just to know what they taste like and brag about eating a mythic creature? Meh, Cipher doesn't care. He never has.
The blond went down the stairs and on to the deck to meet his crew. Such familiar faces that have grown into a family. See, Bill Cipher didn't always have his own ship and crew. Of course, he did acquire his ship — through a most epic fight he will never forget — when he was eleven years old, but still, not belonging to a family for his entire childhood until he was almost a teenager was not easy.
Belonging. Ha! Bill Cipher knows he doesn't belong. He actually takes pride in it! Because you know what? He figured that belonging to made you somebody else's possession, so he swore to himself he would be the only one who ever got to own himself and/or others.
Nonetheless, his current crew is better than what he could ask for. They are invested in the supernatural almost as much as he is, all of them have unique abilities that benefit him either on battle, on investigation, navigation, or plans, and most importantly, they are loyal. That's the quality Cipher values the most.
The captain was finally greeted by his crew. They were standing in line, looking at their pirate in anticipation, eager. All of them were loaded with their weapons of choice, let it be guns, knives, swords, or even knuckles.
The crew cheered at their captain, smiling widely at him. As the moonlight and oil lanterns were the only light that lit their faces, the shadows looked menacing and eerie.
The blonde returned the sly grin and humorously vowed to his crew's cheers. He was wearing a tail-coat made of leathery-fabric, a white button-down shirt that wasn't all that white anymore, black pants, and a slightly loose golden and weaponized belt around the hips. He was carrying his favorite gun and sword, plus other minor weapons that he hid not only around his belt but also around his whole body. And of course, he wore leather boots that reached almost up to his knees and his fancy black pirate hat, which had a single golden feather and some jewels adorning it.
"Tonight's the night, fellas," he spoke, his crew finally shutting up. "As we speak, fierce beasts are swimming below us, ready to devour another pack of men. Creatures that have forever lured uncountable men to their deaths by using their celestial voices and bodies."
His crew nodded. They knew all of this already, but something about hearing it right was those beasts live made it a whole lot more difficult to bear. Now they weren't only listening to a story, they were about to experience one. And maybe, they wouldn't even get to live to tell it.
"We will be the first known pirates to ever defeat them; conquer them!" The captain continued to speak. The crew's nerves turning into excitement, "Tonight, we catch a siren!"
Everyone cheered and punched their fists in the air. Noise returning to its natural state.
“Kitty,” Cipher continued, nodding to the toughest-looking man on the crew, “you will be in charge of the ship while I go on the rowboat.”
The man nodded in return, so the captain kept speaking, “Bigfoot, Cain, Red, Onyx, and Tiny, you will be staying here too.”
The biggest man in the crew, a man with a scar across his face, a red-haired young adult male, a woman with almost charcoal-black skin, and a small boy nodded in response.
“Guard my baby while I'm out," Cipher joked and winked. They all knew how much he loved his ship. “And that leaves Hellhound, Dawn, Dagger, and Cheat with me."
A muscular young man, a tough but very beautiful looking woman, another woman highly equipped with at least half a dozen daggers and swords, and a teenage boy agreed.
“Get settled, then.”
And with that, they all retreated to stuff their ears with cloth or wax to muffle de sound of the sirens' voices. They had been preparing for this, they knew exactly what to do. They also knew perfectly well to stand their ground, no matter how tempting a siren could look. And most importantly, they knew that their goal was to catch a siren, not kill one. If for some reason they started to get aggressive, which they figured would be bound to happen, they would result in violence.
A few minutes later, the rowboat with Cipher's chosen crew was lowered down to the ocean. They paddled slightly further away from the ship, and then stopped when they started to notice the shadows under them. They were currently surrounded by huge boulders, covered in algae and coral, where they also spotted movement. A wave of adrenaline washed over everyone's veins, making the captain smile even more widely.
Cipher's team had their ears shut by different types of material, except for the captain himself. He was wearing an enchanted necklace of black pearls, which made him completely immune to the sirens' singing.
Soon enough, a ginger-haired siren came out of the water, and the pirates were immediately amazed by her beauty. However, none of them moved, as they waited for their captain's orders.
The siren swam closer to the boat, her eyes fixed on Cheat, the youngest one on the boat. The ginger held a powerful gaze, making the boy shiver, which was either because of her captivating beauty or because he realized he had been chosen as her meal.
The captain shot Cheat a confident look, making the teenager feel just a tiny bit better.
When the siren was practically touching the ship, another one came up to them. This one had curly, black hair and was staring straight at Dagger. Then a few seconds later, another creature appeared, she had darker skin and powerful blue eyes, swimming closer to Hellhound. The captain felt slightly overwhelmed by the sudden arrivals, but he never lost his calm.
Suddenly they realized that the ginger siren had gotten so close to the boat, she could easily snatch Cheat and drown him. Then, she saw the spears and fishnets, freezing on the spot.
"They're hunters!" She yelled, making all of the other sirens gasp and submerge back underwater. Cipher thought they were going to attack, but apparently, this pack of sirens had had other experiences with pirates and did not wish to repeat them.
Sure enough, however, the ginger siren was not going to leave her favorite meal alive, so she launched, grabbing Cheat with her sharp nails, and pulling him underwater with her. Hellhound threw himself forward and grabbed onto Cheat's legs.
The siren's strength was immense, causing Hellhound to begin to sink. Dawn and Dagger grabbed his torso and began to pull him to the boat. At this point, Cheat was completely submerged. In the meantime, Cipher loaded a crossbow and aimed to the spot where the siren was holding Cheat.
"No!" Dawn exclaimed although she could barely hear her own words because of the wax in her ears, "You might shoot Cheat!"
"Don't worry, sweetie" Cipher said calmly, fully aware that Dawn knew him enough to be able to read his lips perfectly, then shot the arrow. The movement below the water stopped. Hellhound pulled Cheat back to the surface. The boy was unconscious. Dawn began trying to remove the water from the teen's lungs.
Cheat suddenly coughed a great amount of water and took in shaky breaths, shivering. Dawn just looked at the captain and slowly shook her head.
"I never miss," Cipher said, obvious pride in his voice, Dawn could see it by the look of his face. She turned away.
The blond nodded at the coughing boy, and the teen managed a smile. Then the captain took off his coat and handed it to him, as the boy obviously needed it more than him at the moment. Cheat muttered a thank you.
Cipher sat down with a sigh and looked around. He signaled his crew to hide the weapons and the fishnets, he should've known better. He might have blown their chance for the night, maybe their only chance! How could he have not foreseen that?
Time passed, and as he feared, no one else showed up. The pirates waited in silence. Cheat was almost completely dry now.
The captain fixed his eyes on the boulder closest to them, lost in thought, when he spotted another pair of eyes staring back. Immediately after those eyes noticed the pirate was looking at them, they hid behind the huge rock. Cipher stood up with a jolt, making the others around him jump in surprise. Then, nodded towards the rock and signaled his crew to remain silent.
"Hello?" Cipher said loudly, with the kindest voice he could manage, "We don't want to hurt you."
After waiting a few minutes for a sign of life, and not seeing the eyes again, he sat back down and sighed. He looked at the boat's wooden floor, sighing in defeat. Maybe he had imagined it.
Then, his crew gasped.
Cipher looked up and saw the siren far away, right beside the boulder. The light from their boat did not reach that far, so he could only see a dark figure the clear brown eyes looking back at him.
The captain stood up again, this time more slowly. He smiled gently at the creature, and spoke, just loud enough for the siren to hear, "We're just curious about your species, we don't mean any harm."
"I saw you shoot one of us," the siren said, still in the dark. His voice cracked but tried to remain steady. This only intrigued Cipher even more, because he had found himself a male siren.
The crew looked at each other with wide eyes, they didn't understand what the captain and the siren were saying, but they sure as hell knew they were having a conversation.
Cipher remained calm, answering to the siren, "She was trying to drown one of us."
"You're hunters," the siren said gravely, much more as a statement than a question.
"We're pirates," the blond responded, as if it were pretty obvious, "we have weapons to defend ourselves, it's in our nature. Just as much as it is in your nature to lure us to death. Fair game, don't you think?"
The siren thought in silence, analyzing the words. But Cipher was not about to wait anymore, so he offered, "If you don't harm us, we don't harm you. Deal?"
Something about the way the pirate spoke made the siren want to trust him. Even if he knew the stories of pirates, how reckless and dangerous they were"¦ curiosity had always won him over. And something in his gut made him think that this pirate was not lying.
The words lingered. Cipher was afraid the siren might be smarter than him and swim away for good. But he was proven wrong when the siren slowly came into view, swimming closer to the boat.
When the siren was just a few feet away from the rowboat, the lantern's light finally glowed on his skin. Instantly, the pirates were captivated by his beauty. They had never seen a merman, much less a male siren.
"You can come closer," the captain said, leaning closer to the water, "See? I have nothing on my hands," he said as he lifted his hands up innocently.
The siren moved closer, feeling just slightly safer and a whole lot more curious. He was intrigued by the sailors, he had never seen so many up close, and they were all staring back at him. The feeling was overwhelming.
Cipher smiled at the siren, then turned to Hellhound and winked, which roughly meant wait for my signal.
The siren's light blue tail was almost touching the rowboat's wood from below. He looked about Cheat's age.
The blond placed both of his hands behind his back. The siren and he just stared at each other in awe, each of them amazed by the other. Cipher noticed there were splashes of tiny blue scales on his shoulders, he had chocolate brown hair, and the most entrancing deep brown eyes the captain had ever seen. His gaze was purely innocent and curious.
"You're magnificent," the captain whispered to the siren, completely lost in the siren's eyes, almost forgetting what he was there for. Almost. Behind his back, he closed his hand into a fist. And so, the crew launched the fishnet at the siren and fastened it as fat and swiftly as possible, apprehending the siren.
The brunet screamed an unholy scream, Cipher was suddenly jealous of his crewmates with wax on their ears. The siren tried to escape the nets, almost knocking the boat over, but the crew acted faster. They lifted him, and with a loud thump, the siren was on the boat.
The captain had a large grin on his face and got closer to the siren. The siren had never felt so much fright in his entire life. He felt as if his heart had run up to his throat and was about to be regurgitated. He was about to scream louder, and try to knock the boat over once again, but with one swift move, one of the men that was holding him down injected a syringe into his skin. The last thing he saw was the grin on the blond pirate that had just betrayed him, until all faded to black.
#billdip#fanfic#fanfic billdip#fanfiction#bill cipher#dipper pines#dipper x bill#bill x dipper#pirate au#golden giant#siren dipper pines#pirate bill cipher#fantasy
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Debut || Roger Taylor x fem!Reader
summary || you’re twenty years old, a full-time uni student, and you’re living out of home. money is tight. so, naturally, you decide to sell your virginity to the highest bidder. when you get an offer from some guy in his mid-thirties, you put on your nicest dress and head on over. but there’s a problem: he has no idea who you are, or why you’ve turned up at his house at nine o’clock at night. maybe things aren’t going to be as simple as you’d hoped. modern day au.
rating || explicit, with fluff dotted throughout. 18+ only. do not read if you are under eighteen. the age gap between reader and roger is sixteen years.
word count || about 17.7k.
author’s notes || welcome one and all to my very first fic on this blog! i pictured roger circa ‘85 (specifically live aid) for this fic. this fic is also dedicated to my friend and fellow mid-thirties-Roger enthusiast Jennifer @mrfahrenhcit (i couldn’t find a way to work in everything you asked, but i’ve saved some of them for the next roger fic that’s in the works). fun fact: this is the first reader fic where i’ve used ‘Y/N’. some people have said they’d had issues with this post being extremely slow to load, or the app has crashed - i think it’s just bc it’s so long, and i apologise for the inconvenience. [i am a proud member of the anti-cross-tagging club.]
masterlist
You don’t think you’ve ever felt more nervous before in your entire life. You’ve wiped your sweaty palms on your dress ten times in the past two minutes, and your heart hasn’t stopped racing from the moment you woke up this morning.
What are you doing? Seriously, what the fuck are you doing?
Well, that’s the thing. You know exactly what the fuck you’re doing.
You aren’t doing it out of embarrassment, or anything to do with pride. You don’t feel pressured, not by anyone, not even by society, fuck society, but you saw some dumb article about it – it was hardly even an article, just gossip – and it gave you the idea, and then you were doing some research about it, just for the money, it’s just for the money, you’ve been living out of home for two years now and life’s still kicking you in the ass, so why wouldn’t you do it for money, if you could? And you can. So you went onto some website and snooped around to check for at least some sign of legitimacy, and then, well, you were making an account, and you made an account, and uploaded some photos that you never thought you’d upload to the Internet, and, a couple weeks later, you found out that someone had chosen you. Chosen you.
And now here you are.
On your way to a strange man’s house.
To lose your virginity to him.
Because he’s paid for it.
Well, he’s paid half. The other half comes… after.
And you’re not nervous about the actual sex part, you suppose, but more about the fact that you’re going to a stranger’s house for sex. Does that make you a sex worker? Could you call someone who played guitar in one gig and got paid for it, but never got paid for it again, a musician?
Probably. But maybe that isn’t the best comparison.
You don’t know much about this guy. Just his address, his name, his age – thirty-six, could be worse, to be fair – and that he’s obviously got plenty of cash to spare. And he’s definitely not the sort of guy you want to have around. Seeing as, y’know, he’s paid a twenty-year-old virgin to have sex with him.
The Uber pulls up to a stop in front of a house. It’s dark outside, almost nine in the evening, so the house is hard to make out, but it’s quite a nice place, very white-picket-fence. Something out of a magazine catalogue about the suburbs. You thank your Uber driver and grab your oversized handbag, climbing out of the car.
You close the door behind you.
The Uber drives off.
And you’re alone on the sidewalk.
You hoist the handbag onto your shoulder. It’s got a couple of things you think you’ll need – condoms, lube, two change of clothes depending on what this guy is after. You think you look more than nice enough in your heels and tight, black dress, but just in case.
You glance at your phone, double-checking the address. You send a quick message to your best friend Justine: at the house. will keep u updated.
She’s the only one who knows; and she only knows because you figured that at least someone should know, if something goes wrong.
Good God, you’re hoping nothing goes wrong. Not in that way. Not in any way, really.
And again, you’re back to asking yourself what the fuck you’re doing.
You take a deep breath, and start heading up the front path.
Your hands are shaking by the time you reach the front step, but you force yourself to raise a fist and rap your knuckles on the door. The automatic porch light is yellow, and you can’t help but feel irked by how unflattering it is.
You can hear movement inside the house. A part of you is searching for the sound of kids, although God forbid there’s any to be heard. But a guy like this… Well, your first conclusion is that he’s looking for an affair.
You really don’t want to be some kind of mistress. But, you suppose, this is really just a business transaction, so you’re free of at least most of the guilt, right? All of it, if you actually have no idea if he’s married.
Please don’t mention your wife, you pray. Don’t implicate me or whatever.
Finally, the door opens, and you feel like you’re about to throw up your heart onto your feet. But you push it down, and drink in the man in front of you.
If you weren’t sure before if he was a dad, now it’s unmistakable. He’s slim, and reasonably tall – not remarkably so, but still tall – and he’s dressed in loose jeans and a blue flannel that he has rolled up to his elbows. His hair is blond, sort of shaggy, sort of spiky, like he spends his time running his hands through it. You idly wonder what it’d feel like in your hands. Guess you’ll find out soon enough.
But the thing that really knocks your socks off is the big blue eyes that blink at you, framed by eyelashes that you’d kill to have yourself. Those eyes flash down to your outfit, and then back up at your face.
Okay. Maybe this whole thing won’t be that bad at all.
You give him your most winning smile. “Hi,” you say in a way that you hope is both alluring and professional.
He blinks at you again. “Hi,” he says, his eyes wide. His gaze flits up and down your body, like he’s trying to compute what he’s seeing in front of him. “Um, hello. What, uh– Can I help you?”
His voice is soft, softer than you were expecting. Gentle, almost.
You lick your lips and shift your feet. “I’m, ah, Mandy. Are you Roger? Taylor?” Your name is fake, of course. You’re not sure about his. Not that it matters.
“Yes, that’s me,” Roger says. He scratches the back of his head. “Uh, I’m sorry, you’re, um, lovely, but I don’t think I know you.”
Huh. Odd. Is this a foreplay thing? “We have an appointment. You booked me two weeks ago, and you gave me this date and this time,” you prompt unsurely.
Roger’s brow crumples. “An… appointment?”
You feel your face starting to heat up. You almost ask if you have the right address, but no, you already know that he’s Roger Taylor, he’s the one who booked, so you must have it right. “Yeah,” you say. “You, um…” You lower your voice a touch. “You already paid in advance. This is pretty much a done deal, but I’m just here to fulfil my end of the bargain. And then, of course, you’ll have to pay me the other half.”
Roger’s starting to look a little pale now, and you’re not quite sure what to do with that. His eyes dart down to your outfit and back up to your face. “Pay you?” he says. “I’ve– what? I’ve paid you? What did I pay you? When?”
Now you’re both embarrassed, and confused, and well, this isn’t something you’d pictured going wrong.
You suddenly feel very exposed in your tight dress and heels.
“Uh.” You scratch behind your ear. “Like, I don’t know what to tell you. You’ve booked me, and I’m here. And it wasn’t a small sum of money, so I doubt you’d want to…”
Roger’s mouth opens, and then closes, and opens again. “Oh, shit, hang on,” he says, his voice flat, “did I… Was this all booked and arranged two weeks ago on the Friday night?”
“Yes,” you say. “Why?”
Roger sighs heavily, and rubs his eyes. “Oh, shit,” he moans. “For God’s…” He raises his head, and sighs again. “Look, um, Mandy, there’s been a big misunderstanding. I, um, went through a divorce, er, relatively recently, a few months ago, and I’ve been doing a bit of wallowing, I guess you could say, and my friends tried to cheer me up a fortnight ago on Friday by bringing round a few bottles of very nice whiskey and gin. I don’t remember a lot of that night, but, now that you mention it, I have some vague memory of my friends trying to get me to, you know, ‘move on’, and, um, I think they might have looked up… people online.”
Your ears are really burning now. “Oh,” you say.
“That’s what this is, isn’t it?” Roger adds. “You’re a…”
“Not really,” you blurt. “Kind of. It– oh, man.” You bite your bottom lip, hesitating, not quite sure how much to reveal about the situation. “Okay, I’ll be honest. Yes, I’m… from a website. But I’m not – this isn’t a living, or a side gig, or whatever. Not that it would matter if I was, because there’s nothing wrong with…” You shake your head. Stay on track. “It’s just a one-off. You paid me to… to take my virginity.”
You swear you can see Roger’s soul leaving his body in that moment. “You– I what?”
You shrug helplessly.
Roger takes a step back, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters. “Jesus Christ.”
“I’m sorry for the confusion,” you say, and your stomach sinks further when a realisation comes to you. “I…” You swallow. Your mouth is dry. “I’m really sorry, but I can’t – The money you gave me. I’ve done this to help pay bills and rent and everything, and it’s already been used. A chunk of it, anyway. I can’t refund you. I’m really sorry.”
“No, God, don’t apologise,” Roger says. “You weren’t to know.” He shakes his head. “Fucking dickheads, the lot of them.” He looks to you, and warily inspects your face. “How old did you say you were?” His voice is small, like he’s scared of the answer.
“Twenty,” you reply, and his shoulders sag in relief.
“Thank God,” he says. “I mean, still, you’re so young, but at least you’re…”
“An adult?”
He nods, grimacing sheepishly. “I really am being honest when I say I don’t remember much of that night. My mates aren’t those sorts of people, but, well, who knows what they’d try to pull when they’re pissed.”
“No, it’s fine,” you say. “I look young for my age. But I am twenty.”
“No, I believe you,” Roger says quickly. “I’m not… No.”
You wipe your palms on your dress again. What now? Do you just go home? That wasn’t the cheapest Uber ride you’ve ever had. You were kind of relying on that extra money.
Roger seems equally at loss. “You– Did you have to travel far?”
“Not that far,” you say. “Forty minutes-ish.”
“Fuck,” Roger says. He puts his hands on his hips, and then drops them again. “What time is it? It’s nearly nine, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, about nine.”
“It’s late. You should be getting home.”
Your heart sinks. Wow. Okay. This is really just over like that. “Um, yeah, I guess,” you say. You take half a step back. “I’m really sorry about the– the, um, whole mix-up thing. And sorry about your divorce.”
Great. Real smooth.
“Thanks,” Roger says. He hesitates, and you’re about to turn and head back down the driveway, when he says, “How are you getting home? Did you drive?”
“Uh, no,” you say. “Uber.”
“Uber? God, no, sod that,” Roger says. “Let me…” He fumbles for something in his back pocket, but comes up empty. “Let me pay for it. I don’t– Can I pay you for it?”
“It’s all right,” you reassure him. “You’ve already given me– it’s okay.”
“No, please, I insist,” he says. “Should I– cash? I can give you cash. Or… transfer…” He rolls his eyes at himself, those pretty blue eyes that shouldn’t belong to a man his age, but somehow suit him perfectly. “God,” he mutters. “I usually have things more together than this, I promise. I’ve just been caught beyond off-guard.”
“Sorry,” you say again.
“It’s not your fault, really, I don’t– How could I blame you? You had no idea. I am going to murder my friends.” He sighs, rubbing his temple. “Um. Okay. I’ve paid you before, haven’t I, if you got the deposit? How did I do it? I can just do it that way again.”
“You transferred it to me,” you say. You shift in your heels. Your feet are starting to ache.
“Let’s do it that way again, then,” Roger says. “I’ll just get my phone, sorry.”
“It’s okay, really,” you say yet again, stopping him. “Don’t bother. I’ll– It’ll take me two minutes and then I can be on my way home.”
Roger hovers, and then says, “Can I– Did you want to wait inside? Or out on the steps? Could I get you some water, at least?”
You hesitate. “Um–”
“I’m not trying to do anything,” Roger blurts, and then he shakes his head. “Now it sounds like I am trying to do something. I’m not. Really. If you want, you can just wait here and I’ll go inside and leave you alone.”
You glance at your phone. You haven’t ordered the Uber yet, but you are pretty thirsty. You look back up to Roger. “Well, I already had it in my head that I was coming here to sleep with you, so I’m not really concerned about you trying anything,” you say. “Some water sounds nice, actually.”
Roger laughs. Like his voice, it’s unexpectedly soft, and it makes you smile.
“Um. Yes,” he says, glancing at his feet. “Well. Um, come on in, then.”
You head back up the path, and Roger steps aside to let you in.
You slip past him. He smells good.
His house, on the inside, is just as white-picket-fence as it is on the outside. Not the tidiest, but you suppose he wasn’t expecting company.
He seems to notice the slight mess the same moment you do, and he hurriedly darts forward to tidy up.
“Sorry,” he says.
“No, don’t worry about it,” you say.
He bends down to grab an empty beer bottle from where it sits on the floor next to the couch. Nice ass.
Not that it matters. You aren’t sleeping with him anymore. But, to be fair, you are only human. Just because you’re no longer ordering doesn’t mean you can’t admire the menu.
“I, uh, wasn’t expecting any guests, obviously,” Roger adds, half-jokingly.
You chuckle, and adjust your dress. Roger’s eyes flash down to your hands, then to your chest where you’ve pulled the dress down a little further in your adjustment, and then he quickly looks away, running his hand along his jaw.
“Uh, um,” he says. “Water? Um– take a seat, by the way. Feel free to sit…” He gestures vaguely around him. “Sit anywhere. Anywhere you like.”
“Um, okay,” you say, and hesitate, before awkwardly perching on his couch.
“Sorry, did you say you wanted water?” Roger says.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” you say.
“Yeah, of course,” Roger says, and then disappears into the kitchen.
You breathe in a lungful of air and slowly let it out. Wow. Talk about an unexpected evening.
You take out your phone and message Justine. boy do I have a story to tell u.
She’s online, and she replies immediately. fuck what’s happened?? everything alright??
You bite your lip, considering how to reply. yeah I’m fine. the guy is super easy on the eyes, but there’s been a mix up and basically I am remaining firmly in the virgin zone for the foreseeable future lol.
You backspace and try again. yeah I’m fine. long story short I’m coming home. tell u about it when I get there.
is he ugly?? Justine replies, and you can’t help but smile in amusement.
oh no, that’s not the issue even a little bit, you reply.
“I’m assuming tap water is fine?” Roger says, reappearing with a glass of water, making you jump slightly and flip your phone face-down on your leg, as if he could somehow see the screen from across the room. “Sorry, I should’ve asked. I don’t really have anything else.”
“No, no, tap water is fine, thank you,” you say, and he hands the glass to you.
You take a sip.
Roger glances away, seemingly looking for something to do or something to say, as if the answer is written in the walls. He chews on his thumbnail.
Your mind scrambles to find something to say, but it feels like trying to eat soup with a fork.
“Is everything all right?” Roger asks suddenly, looking to you. “I know this is probably completely inappropriate, but… Well, paying for someone to…”
Your stomach sinks with embarrassment. “Oh,” you say. “Um. Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. Just – could do with the money.”
“Of course, yeah,” Roger says hurriedly, nodding. “You’re at uni?”
“Yeah. And living out of home, so.”
“Right. Yeah, of course, I should’ve guessed. Sorry, that was…”
“No, it’s fine,” you say with a reassuring smile. You chuckle. “I’m sorry for disrupting your evening like this.”
“No, no, it…” Roger smiles, and you feel every trace of oxygen leave your lungs, because wow, he’s attractive. “It’s a welcomed interruption, actually.”
“It is?”
“Well, all I had planned was to watch something shit on Netflix and drink beer,” Roger says, screwing up his nose. “Not exactly exciting.”
“Oh, don’t let me stop you,” you say. “Sounds like they were big plans.”
Roger laughs, and your heart thuds against your ribcage. “The sort of plans that sound much nicer when you have company, I think.” He pauses. “Not that– not that I’m expecting you to–” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, making it stick up. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Really, I’m not usually this… awkward.”
“You don’t have to apologise,” you say, shaking your head.
“I used to be a real ladies’ man, you know,” Roger says. “Back in the day. Before my wi– my ex-wife. And the kids.”
“Sure,” you say, drawling sarcastically.
Roger laughs again, a little surprised, but amused. “I was!” he insists. “I was picking up women left and right.”
“I believe you,” you say lightly.
Roger grins, and you have to take a steadying breath. “You’ve got a tongue on you, haven’t you?” he says delightedly.
“So it’s been said.”
It comes out more suggestive than you’d intended. Roger takes a moment to drink you in, and then he bites his bottom lip, looking away, one hand sliding into the back pocket of his jeans, the other one slipping under his shirt, massaging his shoulder.
Your stomach flips and jumps. You take a sip of water.
“You sure you’ve never been with anyone before?” Roger says.
You snort. “That’s a pretty rude question, don’t you think?”
Roger smiles sheepishly. “You’re right. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
You take another sip of water, and then say, “I haven’t slept with anyone, no. I think I’d know if I had.”
“Right,” Roger says mildly, nodding.
You narrow your eyes at him. “What?”
“Nothing, I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re thinking very loudly. Is there something wrong with me not having slept with anyone?”
“No,” Roger says, his eyes widening. “No, shit, that’s not what I was trying to say. It– you just seem… I’m just surprised. That someone like you…”
You adjust your dress again. Roger’s eyes drop to your breasts again, and back up to your face. “What do you mean by that?” you ask, trying not to preen.
Roger ponders over his answer for a while. “You just seem to… know what you want.”
“Oh, you think so?”
“Yeah,” Roger says noncommittally.
His eyes find yours, and they stay there. Your heart is racing in your chest now, making your blood feel warm. You’ve been attracted to plenty of people before, but this is really something else.
Roger clears his throat, breaking away, and you surreptitiously squeeze your thighs together.
Your phone buzzes on your thigh. It’s Justine. so he’s hot?
“Is that your Uber?” Roger asks. If you aren’t mistaken, he sounds almost disappointed.
Your cheeks grow hot. “Oh, um, I haven’t actually… I forgot to call it.”
“Oh,” Roger says. A tinge of relief? “Well, no rush.”
“It’s just my friend checking up on me,” you add.
“That’s good of them.”
“Yeah. Well, actually, she was checking up on me before. Now she’s just–” You open and close your mouth a few times, but decide to be honest. “Uh, she’s just, um, asking about you.”
Roger quirks an eyebrow, and it’s so hot that you have to look away. “About me?”
Your phone buzzes again. are you on ur way home now?
“Uh,” you say, and quickly type out, not yet.
“What have you told her?” Roger asks, playfully curious.
You put your phone down, and take a breath, smoothing your hands down your legs, thinking carefully of how to answer. “Just that you seem nice.”
“Nice?” Roger says.
“And you’re… Well.” You smirk. “I’m sure you’ve seen yourself in the mirror. No point in boosting your ego too much.”
Roger steps forward, drawn to you by an invisible string. “I don’t think I understand,” he says faux-innocently.
“I’m sorry, weren’t you just saying a minute ago that you were pulling girls left and right?” you say, cocking your head.
“Oh, yeah, when I was twenty,” Roger says. “Not talking about now.”
“Have you tried?”
Roger pauses, slightly taken aback by this, and his eyes roll to the ceiling as he thinks, blowing hair out of his cheeks. “You may have a point there.”
“And I suppose that’s why these friends of yours contacted me?”
“You… may have a point there,” Roger says again.
You nod to yourself. “I don’t see why they couldn’t have just taken you to a pub and set you up with someone there. It’d have been a lot cheaper.”
“They’ve, um…” Roger cards his hand through his hair. “They’ve tried that, actually.” He hesitates, and then walks over to you, sitting down on the armchair near you. “They’ve taken me out a couple of times.”
“And you’ve struck out?” you ask.
Roger chuckles. “No. I – well, like you said, I suppose I haven’t really tried. I didn’t want to.”
“Too soon?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s…” Roger pulls a face. “I don’t know. Haven’t felt like it, really. Maybe it was too soon. Or maybe the thought of having to try to chat someone up just seemed like so much effort.”
“Surely it wouldn’t be much effort for you.”
Roger meets your eyes again, and he smiles slowly, running his tongue along his teeth. “Oh yeah?”
Your phone vibrates. The way Roger’s looking at you makes you wish it was something else vibrating that you could put to good use alone in your room.
Roger’s eyes flick down to the phone, and back up to your face. “That your friend again?”
You hesitate, and then flip the phone over. hellooooo????? wtf is going on????
“Yeah,” you say, and put the phone down beside you.
“You going to answer it?”
“In a minute.”
You smooth your hands down your thighs. Roger watches like a hawk.
Your hands slide back up your thighs.
He swallows.
You smile.
“You, um, you ever…” Roger tears his eyes away from your thighs to look at your face. “Have– have you ever had a boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”
“Yeah,” you say casually. “Not for a long while, though. And nothing too serious. Nothing as full-on as marriage.”
Roger laughs, but it comes out sounding a bit strangled. “Yeah. That’s all right, though. That doesn’t matter.”
Your phone buzzes.
You ignore it.
“I never got around to… all of that,” you explain. “Y’know. Fucking.”
Roger’s face goes slack. “Uh–”
“I wasn’t waiting for anyone special,” you continue. Your blood feels electrified under his gaze. “Just never quite got there.”
“Never quite–?”
You hum. “That’s misleading. I’ve made out with plenty of people, but that’s all. Some over-the-clothes action. Basically nothing, really.”
Roger looks like he’s struggling to breathe. “Uh-huh.”
“You probably find that hard to imagine,” you say with a wry smile. “Having kids and all. How old were you your first time?”
Roger blinks, and takes a moment to reply. “Uh, I was sixteen.”
You laugh. “God, I can’t even picture…” You frown, and shake your head. “It’s hard to picture what it’d be like, you know? The reality of it? You can watch as much porn as you like – and I’ve watched plenty, mind you – but, like, I know that it’s not real. Not realistic, anyway. I’ve spent what feels like ages just trying to picture what is actually is like, but it’s impossible for me to know.”
“It’s good,” Roger says, and it comes out in a rush, and he looks surprised at himself.
You feel a thrill go through you. “Good?”
“Yeah,” Roger says. “Everyone says your first time isn’t good, but that’s only if your partner doesn’t know what they’re doing. And it’s nice when you have an idea of what you’re doing, too, but that comes with time. And if you have a good teacher.” He rakes his hand through his hair again. “But when the chemistry is right, and the mood is right, it’s… good.”
“That’s descriptive,” you murmur sarcastically.
Roger huffs a laugh. “What do you want, a detailed explanation? Graphs and illustrations?”
“A demonstration would be nice.”
Shit. Oh, shit. Shit shit shit. Why the fuck did you say that?
Your eyes are wide, and you open and close your mouth a few times. “Uh.”
Roger looks as surprised as you feel. “Oh,” he says. “Um. Wow. Is– is this part of the…”
You blink. “Part of the…?”
“The whole…” He gestures vaguely. “…thing. You being paid to…”
“Did I just make a complete idiot of myself as part of my attempt to woo you as a kind-of sex worker?” you ask. You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Nope. No. That was all me. Just being a dumbass.” You groan, covering your face. “I’m sorry,” you say from behind your hands. “This is so embarrassing.” This whole night has been nothing but a huge embarrassment. You can’t wait to go home and forget about it, thanks to an unhealthy dose of alcohol.
“I’m sorry,” Roger says.
You lower your hands. “For what?”
“For – I don’t know. I just felt I needed to apologise.”
You snort. “You don’t have to apologise for me very clumsily and awkwardly and horribly trying to flirt with you, Roger.” You roll your eyes at yourself. “You’re probably used to seeing that all the time.”
“Again, not for a very long time,” Roger says. “But I know what horrible and awkward flirting looks like, and… that wasn’t it.”
“But clumsy, though, right?” you say, screwing up your nose.
Roger chuckles. “Maybe. But that’s all right.” He shifts in his seat. “I was just as clumsy.”
You wave a hand, and reach for your phone. It’s high time you called your Uber. And reply to Justine. “You weren’t flirting with me.”
You re-read the messages from Justine you’re yet to reply to.
so hes hot?
are you on ur way home now?
hellooooo????? wtf is going on????
Then the new one, from a few minutes ago: for the love of god can u please reply to me. something. anything. I’ll take a solid thumbs-up.
So you send a thumbs-up.
When you look up, Roger is staring at you, and you realise he hasn’t spoken since you did.
You’ve well and truly crossed a line somewhere. You can’t blame him for wanting you out. “I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m just – my friend. I’ll get the Uber now. Sorry it’s taken me so long.”
“Don’t,” Roger says.
You pause. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t order the Uber.”
Your stomach bubbles. “Wh– No?”
“Not yet, at least,” Roger says. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You think I wasn’t flirting with you?”
“Why would you be?” you respond automatically.
“Why would…” Roger shakes his head. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because I’m a random twenty-year-old woman who’s just shown up at your door on a Tuesday night dressed like this talking about how you paid to take my virginity,” you say bluntly. “Which is more than a little off-putting.”
“Well, all right, I’ll give you that,” Roger says. “But here I am, still trying to clumsily flirt with you nonetheless.”
You break out into a smile, a bashful one, and duck your head. “Oh.”
“Oh,” Roger repeats, a touch playfully.
You glance up at him. He’s smiling at you, pleased with your reaction, and the thought of kissing him flashes through your mind, and you’ve suddenly never wanted anything more. You purse your lips, looking at your hands again, fiddling with your phone, flipping it around and around in your grip.
“Mandy,” he says gently, and you’re puzzled for a moment before you remember –
“That’s, um, not my real name,” you tell him with an awkward chuckle. But you really like how he said it all the same.
Roger looks so embarrassed that you can’t help but laugh. “Here I was, trying to be all suave, and now I look like an idiot,” he says.
You shake your head. “You don’t. You didn’t know.”
“I should’ve guessed you weren’t using your real name.”
“No, it’s fine,” you giggle.
“Well, am I allowed to know your real name? So I can try again?”
You hesitate.
“Unless you don’t want to,” Roger says quickly. “That’s fine. Security, and all. Stranger danger.”
You laugh again. “Stranger danger? I’m in your house.”
“I could be a stalker. You don’t know that.”
Fuck, you’re attracted to him. “Dork,” you say with a roll of your eyes.
Roger chuckles, his eyes sparkling.
“It’s [Y/N],” you add.
“[Y/N],” he repeats, and your breath catches ever so slightly. He pauses, and then comes to sit beside you on the couch, and holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you, [Y/N],” he says. “I’m Roger.”
You giggle, and take his hand, shaking it. “Nice to meet you, Roger.”
He’s so close now. He smells amazing, and his hand is warm, and his eyes are so blue, and his lips–
You realise you’ve been staring at his mouth, your hand still in his, and you glance back up at his eyes before quickly taking your hand back, looking away.
You tuck your hair behind your ear, clearing your throat. You’re barely aware of your own body – only his, and how close it is to yours. Like there’s a force between the two of you, connecting you. When he swallows and moves his hand back to his own lap, you can feel it as if it’s your own.
“Do you, um…” Roger takes a breath in, and you feel your chest, your lungs, buzz. “Tell me about yourself a bit.”
“Me?” you say, looking to him. Oh, wow, he really is close. Fucking hell, you want him.
“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “What do you do for fun? Stuff like that?”
You lick your lips, and his eyes dart to the movement. “Um, well, I…” You absentmindedly adjust your dress, and it catches his eye again. “I’m at uni, in my second year. It’s all right. Pretty stressful, obviously, but I like it well enough. I live with two of my friends. I, um… I like… dogs.”
Roger laughs.
This is so stupid, you realise. You both clearly want each other.
You shake your head. “Stupid,” you mutter.
Roger frowns. “What’s stupid?”
“This,” you say. You gesture between the two of you for emphasis. “This.”
“Oh,” Roger says. He shifts away from you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
You huff. “You’re not.”
“Then what–”
“Kiss me,” you cut in.
Roger stops. “Kiss you?”
“Yes,” you say, keeping your gaze steady on his. “You’re too damn difficult to resist. So kiss me.”
Roger hesitates.
You raise your eyebrows. “Unless you don’t want to?”
“No, I – I do,” he says. “I just…”
“What?”
“I feel like the circumstances… I don’t want you to think I’m just doing this because I’ve paid you to…”
“I don’t think that,” you say. “And I don’t want your money; this is way beyond that now. I’m not trying to trick you into sleeping with me so I can force you to pay me. I just know chemistry when I see it.”
Roger chuckles. “I was right,” he says. “You know exactly what you want.”
You steel your nerves. “Yeah,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. “And I want you.”
Roger swallows. “But you don’t even know me.”
“Nope.”
“And you’re in my house.”
“Yep.”
“And I’m so much older than you.”
“That’s right.”
“And you’re…”
“I’m a virgin,” you finish, nodding. “I know. But for the love of God, Roger, if you don’t kiss me right now, I’m going to scream.”
Roger exhales, shakes his head minutely, and then says, “God fucking damn it,” and leans in to kiss you.
You immediately shift to press closer towards him, one hand coming to rest against his chest. He kisses you earnestly, but gently, like he’s nervous. Nervous about making you feel pressured, you can safely assume.
But that’s not what you’re about. You pull back, and, before he can say anything, you climb on top of him, straddling his waist, and kiss him again, more deeply than before. He breaks away just far enough to whisper, “Holy shit,” and then ducks his head to kiss down your throat. You tilt your head to give him more room, one hand against his chest and the other raking through his hair. His hands, rough and warm, smooth up your thighs, and your breath catches. They stop just under the hem of the dress, and a soft whine slips from your throat.
Roger moans in response. “Jesus Christ.”
You reach down and grab at his wrists, urging his hands to go further up the dress. “Touch me,” you pant.
He draws back, and you look down at him, at his slightly flushed cheeks and his ruffled hair, and you want him naked, right now. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says. “We can just make out, that’s absolutely fine. Just because of… the whole… arrangement…”
“Roger,” you say slowly, “I’m only going to say this once, because I don’t want to have to repeat myself.”
He nods, swallowing.
You cup his face in your hands, boring your eyes into his. “I want you to fuck me. Tonight. Right now.”
Roger takes a shaky breath. “Are you–”
“What did I just say?” you cut in. “Not repeating it.”
Roger smiles, laughing breathlessly. “Bloody hell.”
You smirk. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Oh, it most certainly is one, believe me.”
You lean in to kiss him, and his hands, thank the Lord, slide further up your thighs. You start unbuttoning his shirt, blindly, fumbling a little, and your kisses grow more eager.
You’ve kissed a number of people in your time. Not a whole lot, but a few. And Roger really takes the damn cake.
When his shirt is fully unbuttoned, untucked from his jeans, you move your lips down his neck, and he moans, letting his head roll back, his hands shifting to grab your ass, pulling you against him. You can feel the tent in his jeans, and, beyond thrilled, you grind against it, loving how a bolt of arousal shoots through you. Roger’s grip on you tightens, and when you nip at his skin, he spits out, “Fuck.”
You rock your hips against him again, and he laughs again. “God, it’s been too long.”
You hum, nipping his throat again and soothing it with your tongue. “How long is too long?”
“Months. Lost count. Ah, fuck.”
You pull back, giving him a look, and he lifts his head to meet your eyes. “Try twenty years,” you say dryly.
Roger shakes his head. “Can’t even imagine.” He kisses you, just once, and then murmurs against your lips, “I promise I’ll make this good for you.”
You shiver. “I’m sure you will.”
“I mean it.” He kisses you again, and then sits back, his hands sliding back to your thighs and squeezing them gently. “I want this to be good for you. If I’m going to be your first, I want you to enjoy it. So you have to tell me if I’m doing something you don’t like, yeah?”
You nod. “Yeah.”
“I don’t care what it is we’re doing – you can tell me to stop at literally any point, and I will, no questions asked.”
You nod. “I know, I know.”
Roger chuckles. “You just really want to get things going, don’t you?”
“Yes.” You press your lips to his, and, now that you both know where things lie between you, you’re both eager to get to the next step. The kisses quickly become more feverish, hotter, deeper. Roger’s hands go to the back of your dress, working the zipper down your spine, and you shudder at the feeling of it. When he’s done, you sit back to yank it over your head, dropping it the floor behind you.
Roger’s eyes drink you in, his mouth hanging open. “Whoa.”
You flush under his gaze. You know you look good – you’d worn your push-up bra and matching lace underwear for a reason – but it’s still a rush to get a reaction like that.
“Bedroom?” Roger says, his voice a touch weak, and you nod, leaning in to steal one last kiss before climbing off him, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet. He groans slightly as he does so, and you giggle.
“I know, I know, I’m old,” he says.
“No, I like it,” you say, tugging him closer to you and hooking a finger of your other hand through a belt loop on his jeans. “Dad noises.”
Roger shakes his head, his hands coming to rest on your waist, and you lean into the touch. “Don’t say that,” he grumbles. “Makes me feel even older.”
“You’re not old,” you say, rolling your eyes. “You’re not even forty.”
Roger laughs. “Ah, yes, a real spring chicken.”
“Can you stop whining and fuck me already? I’m gonna be forty by the time we get to it.”
Roger snorts. “Cheeky.” He leans in to kiss you, and you curl your arms around his neck, pressing into him.
When you break apart, you take Roger’s hand again, and he leads you to his bedroom, both of you stumbling slightly in the dark house. You’re only in your underwear, but you’re still wearing your heels, and you feel like you’re in some kind of Victoria Secret ad.
Roger keeps glancing back at you, his eyes sweeping your body, and he’s so distracted he almost runs into a wall at one point, and you have to tug on his arm to pull him out of the way, laughing as you do so. He retaliates by pushing you up against the wall and kissing you senseless, his thigh slotted between yours. You’re lightheaded and unbelievably turned on by the time he breaks away again, and it feels like a lifetime before you reach his bedroom.
Roger switches on the light.
The double bed is unmade, but the room itself is fairly tidy, just a pair of shoes and a shirt on the floor. The whole room screams tax-paying adult, and you’re reminded again that the man you’re about to sleep with is, in fact, a proper adult. Not like you, an adult by the loosest terms imaginable, but a fully-grown man with children and a mortgage and a career, probably. A completely different world to yours.
But none of that will matter when you’re both naked.
He closes the door behind him, and then you’re pouncing on him, pushing his shirt off his shoulders and all but tearing his belt off. His hands are tight on your hips, and when you undo his belt and the button and fly on his jeans, he pants, “Bed, bed, go sit on the bed.”
You do as you’re told, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing one knee over the other, taking the opportunity to quickly tie your hair back out of your face while and Roger fumbles with the rest of his clothes, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his socks and jeans. You can tell that he would’ve been thin as a twig back in the day, and you’d easily call him slender even now, but his body is soft, the sign of a father who’s spent more time taking care of the kids and having a beer in the evenings to wind down than going to the gym. It suits him, looks good on him. You’re certainly a big fan.
Soon, he’s down to nothing but his boxer-briefs. His boxer-briefs, which are neon green.
You break out into a grin, and Roger looks down at them, sighing. “Of all the fucking pairs I could’ve put on today,” he mutters.
“They’re pretty great,” you say, and you make sure you have Roger’s full attention before you uncross your legs, spreading your knees wide, leaning back on your hands, “but I’m more interested in what’s underneath them.”
From the look on Roger’s face, you’d guess his legs are about to give out from under him. “You’re gonna fucking kill me,” he huffs, and he hurries over.
Grinning, you scramble backwards on the bed, lying down, and he crawls after you, over you, and his kiss is bruising.
Your hands are shaking now – with excitement and with nerves, a lot of nerves – but you ignore that, and worm your fingers inside his underwear, wrapping your hand around him and giving him a tug.
He jerks, and you have a moment of panic where you think you’ve done the wrong thing, but then he kisses you with more fervour, so you do it again. This time, his hand finds yours, gently guiding you away.
“Did I do something wrong?” you ask.
Roger looks confused for a moment, and then says, “God, no. I just don’t want to get too worked up before we get to, y’know, the main event.”
“Oh,” you say, smiling in relief.
“You really have no experience at all, do you?” Roger says, sounding almost disbelieving.
“That’s what I’ve been saying,” you say. “It hasn’t all been some elaborate ruse to get into your pants. Literally all I have is some vague, theoretical ideas on how this works. And I know the mechanics. But that’s it. So you’re gonna have to be patient with me.”
“That’s fine by me,” Roger says. He chuckles. “It’ll make everything I do seem much more magical than it really is.”
“Sure,” you say mock-condescendingly.
Roger laughs, and he looks so wonderful when he’s laughing that you can’t help but smile, your hand reaching up to comb through his hair.
He notices the look in your eye, your smile, and he smiles back in a way that makes your stomach squirm and your fingers and toes tingle.
He kisses you, and the squirming in your stomach grows into full-blown butterflies, big Amazonian ones, and you begin to have an inkling that, oh no, this could be bad. This could be very bad indeed.
It’s probably nothing. He’s just hot, and nice, and funny, so you’re excited to have sex with him. That’s it. You’re a duckling that’s imprinted on its mother. Except you’re a human, and Roger’s the first person you’re having sex with, not your mother.
Not the best analogy you’ve come up with. You can’t blame yourself, though – the way Roger’s kissing you is turning your brain into mush.
He presses a kiss to just under your ear, and then kisses all the way down your throat, and you tilt your head back. “Feels so good,” you murmur.
You can feel Roger smile against your skin.
He keeps going, kissing the hollow at the base of your throat, further down still, and you bite your bottom lip. He presses a kiss to the top of your right breast, and then looks up at you. “Can I take your bra off?”
You nod eagerly, and he moves back so you can sit up. “Oh, I’ve still got my shoes on,” you said.
“I’ve noticed,” Roger says, and you chuckle.
“As super sexy as they are, I do wanna take them off,” you say.
Roger ducks forward to drop a kiss to your neck, and the butterflies are back, and you can feel your cheeks going pink. You want to hide your face, but Roger’s right there, and you can’t look away from his eyes. “How about you take your bra off,” he says, “and I’ll get your shoes.”
“You don’t have to take my shoes off for me,” you say.
“Well, I want to,” he says simply, and shuffles down, climbing off the bed. He gestures for you to shift forward, and you do, until your feet are hanging off the bed, your knees hooked over the edge. Roger gets onto his knees – he makes a dad noise as he does so, and you giggle again – and fiddles with the buckle on one of your shoes.
You take a moment to watch him, biting your lip, smiling, and then reach behind you and unhook your bra, slipping it from your shoulders.
He doesn’t look up right away, and you’re thankful for a moment to get your head around the fact that you’ve never been completely topless in front of anyone before. You’re self-conscious about the grooves the bra has dug into your skin, about the way your breasts look without the aid of the push-up, and you almost go to cross your arms over yourself, but then Roger glances up, and his hands go still. “Bloody hell,” he breathes. “You’re gorgeous.”
You tuck your hair behind your ear. “Thanks,” you say in a small voice, unsure how else to respond.
Roger shakes his head, and focuses back on the shoe, making quick work of it and easing it off your foot, setting it down beside him. He moves onto the other shoe. “Talk about winning the fuckin’ lottery,” he says.
“I could say the same,” you say.
Roger stops again, looking to you, and then smiles, looking back to the shoe. His ears have gone red.
He takes the second shoe off and places it beside the first, then presses light kisses to the inside of your knee. He moves further up your leg, up your thigh, and you realise you’re holding your breath. His arms are curled around underneath your legs.
Roger looks up at you, his thick eyelashes making him look almost angelic. “Is this all right?” he says. “If I…?”
He’s asking if he can eat you out. Oh, God, he’s asking if he can eat you out. He wants to put his mouth and tongue there, and maybe his fingers, too, and no one’s ever done that before.
You nod eagerly. Maybe a little too eagerly, as Roger laughs.
You feel your stomach cave in on itself in embarrassment. “Actually, no thanks,” you say, trying to pull your legs back. “Changed my mind.”
“No, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh,” Roger says, still chuckling. He coaxes your legs back to where they were, and kisses your thigh. “It was just the look on your face.”
“You’re doing a terrible job of wooing me,” you say, aiming for resolute and chastising, but it comes out sounding more weedy and humiliated.
“I’m sorry,” Roger says again, and his hands stroke your legs soothingly. “I am. I didn’t mean to make you feel embarrassed.” He smiles, a glint in his eye, and you’re momentarily left breathless. “Can I… make it up to you?”
You can’t help but smile back, rolling your eyes. “Wow. Cheesy.”
“Thank you,” Roger says. “I’m going to be honest, as fun as this banter is, my knees aren’t going to last forever.”
You splutter a laugh. “Yes, yes, okay, yes please.”
Roger surges up off the floor to press a firm kiss to your lips, and you take a moment to wonder just how dodgy his knees really are if he can do something like that, or whether he was just looking for a convenient segue into getting your underwear off. You’re not fussed either way.
Roger kisses your collarbone, and then pulls back, hooking his fingers into your underwear. “Lift your hips up for me, love?”
The pet name makes heat pool between your legs. Oh, Jesus.
“Mm-hm,” you say, hoping it sounds more nonchalant to him than it does to your own ears, and lie back to lift your hips, and he slides your underwear down your legs and drops them near your shoes.
You expect him to go back to his knees straight away, but he holds himself above you, kissing you, deep and slow, making you whimper into his mouth. One hand holds himself up, and the other one massages your hip, his thumb kneading your skin. Relaxing you, you realise. You let yourself get lost in the kiss, and you’re only partially aware when Roger’s hand moves from your hip to your thigh, brushing over your skin.
You’re extremely aware, however, when his fingers stroke through your folds for the first time.
Despite yourself, you jump, and Roger murmurs, “Sorry,” but you shake your head to dismiss his concerns, and pull him in again.
For a few moments it’s strange, feeling someone’s else hand there, and you’re very conscious of how wet you are, and you wonder if it’s something you should be embarrassed about, but then Roger circles your clit, and suddenly all your worries seem very far away.
It feels… good. Really fucking good. Roger’s fingers are rougher than yours, but they’re clearly experienced in how they move.
You push your hips up against Roger’s hand, wanting more, and Roger complies, his fingers moving just a touch more roughly, and he ducks his head to nuzzle at your throat, kissing it, nipping lightly.
“Oh, God,” you moan to the ceiling, overwhelmed already, and you almost laugh at how surprised you sound. Your hand grips Roger’s hair, and you hope it’s not too hard, but you couldn’t let go if you tried.
Then Roger’s hand is gone, and you let out a choked sound at the sudden stop. You try to gather your thoughts to ask why, but then Roger is kissing down your body. Oh, man, you think, unable to conjure up anything else, and Roger chuckles, and you realise you said it out loud, but you don’t have time to be embarrassed, as Roger takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it, his teeth tugging at it, and you gasp.
“I’ve never… That’s new,” you say weakly, hissing when Roger runs the flat of his tongue over your nipple.
Roger pulls off to ask, “Do you like it?”
“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah, uh-huh.”
“Good.” He goes back to his task, and you arch off the bed slightly.
“So good,” you breathe. Roger switches to the other nipple, and you moan appreciatively.
Eventually, both to your dismay and your excitement, he draws away, and presses a single kiss to the space between your breasts. “You’re fucking stunning,” he says, and then he moves back to climb off the bed, setting himself between your thighs.
You struggle to wrap your head around it. How he could be making you feel this good, and then still compliment you, as if you’ve done anything to deserve it?
Roger doesn’t waste time talking now. He kisses the inside of your thigh, and then he dives straight in, his tongue nudging your clit as it pushes through your folds. You suck in a sharp gasp, your hand gripping his hair tightly. Your other hand flails, grappling at the sheets as he starts to find a rhythm. You wind up pressing the back of it to your mouth, trying to muffle the sounds you’re making, trying to gather some sort of control, because right now you feel like you’re falling head-first off a cliff, and Roger has complete power over how you land.
He does something with his mouth – you couldn’t tell for the life of you what it is – and your hips buck against your will. “Sorry,” you blurt out, and it comes out broken and breathless.
Roger just adjusts one of his arms, bracing it across your hips, holding you down, and you moan. His other hand joins his mouth, sliding a finger into you. “Oh, fuck,” you whisper, and then your hand returns to its position, keeping you somewhat quieter.
It doesn’t take long before Roger’s working in a second finger, pumping them in and out of you, and the sound of it is so obscene that it makes your face go bright red. You’re climbing towards an orgasm, frighteningly quickly, and when a third finger squeezes in beside the first two, you very nearly come, but the sting of the stretch is enough to keep it at bay.
But then your body relaxes around the three fingers, and Roger crooks them just so and sucks on your clit, and you move your hand away from your mouth to say in a rush, “I’m– I’m so close, I’m gonna come, fuck, ah, shit,” and then–
Then Roger is gone, his fingers and mouth are gone, and you’re left teetering on the brink of an orgasm, feeling like the air has been punched out of you.
“Wh– Roger?” you say, your head a mess. You prop yourself up on your elbows to see Roger still between your legs, but instead he’s massaging your thighs with his thumbs, dropping light kisses to your soft skin.
He smiles up at you, his nose and chin glistening. “Thought we could try something.”
You shake your head to try to clear it. “But I was just about to…”
You can still feel the urge. Another minute, and you’ll be there. But the longer you wait, the more the feeling fades. It makes you want to punch a wall.
Roger hums. “I know. That’s the point.”
You frown, trying to wrap your head around it. “You… don’t want me to?”
“Not yet.”
It finally clicks. “You’re gonna do that to me a couple more times before you make me come, aren’t you?”
Roger’s smile widens into a grin. “That’s the plan. If you’re on board.”
“I’m on board,” you say. “As long as when I do come, it blows my fucking mind.”
“That’s really the point of it, love.” Roger keeps eye contact with you as he leans forward to press a kiss to your core, and you shudder. “And move your hand away from your mouth. You don’t have to be quiet. The more sounds you make, the better.”
“When am I gonna get my hands on you?” you ask. “I’ve barely even touched your dick yet.”
Roger huffs a laugh, and you can feel his breath against you. “We’re getting there,” he says easily. “Good things come to those who wait.”
“Ugh, that’s such a dad thing to say,” you bemoan, lying back down.
Roger laughs again, and then his mouth and hands return to where you so desperately need them. You suck in air through your teeth. “Fuck, Roger.”
Roger moans, and you jerk at the sensation.
He brings you to the edge once more, and, even though you don’t tell him when you’re about to come, he knows, and leaves you hanging once again. So close, so close, but not close enough.
You feel like crying. Or kicking him in the face.
You moan helplessly, slinging an arm over your eyes, your legs trembling as Roger smiles against your thigh – you can feel it. A smug smile that makes your blood boil and your core throb even more than it already is.
Then his fingers push into you for a third time, and his tongue licks through you, but this time it’s slow, painfully slow, not enough to make you come but enough to keep your head lost in the clouds, enough to make your stomach clench and twist, desperately searching for something. It’s enough to make you grind your teeth together. “God, fuck, I need to come,” you sob against the palm of your hand, your thighs trying to clench around Roger’s ears, but his arm is in the way, keeping your hips still.
His tongue drags against your clit, steady and unhurried, and the gasping whine that rips itself from your throat is piercing to your ears. Not even your hand could muffle it.
“There we go,” Roger says, and does it again.
You squirm. “Roger, fuck, please, I wanna come so bad.”
Roger’s fingers still move in and out of you at a leisurely pace, but he uses his mouth to say, “You wanna come?”
“Yes,” you say miserably. “Please, I need to.”
His thumb presses against your clit, and you bite your bottom lip, your body twisting.
“Christ,” Roger breathes. “That’s a fucking sight.”
“Fuck me,” you beg. “Anything, just please.”
Roger takes his hand away, standing and wiping his face on the back of his hand, and you swear. He kicks off his boxer-briefs. His cock is hard and red, swollen, leaking. You sit up and zero in on it like it’s a four-course meal and you haven’t eaten in days. You scramble off the bed, dropping to your knees in front of him.
“Fucking hell,” he says, clearly not expecting you to do that.
“Can I suck you off?” you ask desperately, resisting the urge to just shove your mouth around his dick without further preamble. “I’ll do a good job, I promise. Just tell me what to do. I’m a fast learner.” You curl your fist around him, sucking the head into your mouth.
Roger makes a strangled sound, his hips bucking slightly. “Wait, wait, wait,” he says quickly, guiding your head away with a hand on your head.
You pull back, but keep your hand where it is. “Just fuck my mouth,” you say, gazing up at him. “I dunno how that works, but I can keep it open.” You do so, sticking your tongue out, silently begging with your eyes.
Roger chuckles softly to himself, running a hand through his hair. “You’re gonna make me come just from running your mouth like that.”
You open your mouth wider.
“Or from just doing that,” Roger says. He pries your hand away from his dick, using it to pull you to your feet.
He kisses you, a hungry kiss, a you’re doing so well kiss, and it makes you preen. “But I want to fuck you,” he says. “I’ve had my dick sucked before; you’ve never been fucked.”
“I’ve never sucked a dick before, either, though,” you reason.
“Well, hit me up next time you’re in the neighbourhood,” Roger jokes. Before you can reply, he kisses you again, and you drink him in greedily, palming at his cock until his kisses grow sloppy, messy, more teeth and tongue, and he has to snatch your wrist. “Let me get inside you first,” he growls. “Good God.”
“I like it when you’re bossy,” you say, teasingly.
Roger hums, his eyes dark. “You need that attitude fucked right out of you.”
“Do it,” you say fervently, grinning in delight when he grabs your other wrist as well to stop you from touching him. “Do it, do it, do it. Fuck it right out me. I need it. Never had anyone try to fuck anything out of me before.”
Roger shudders. “Jesus.”
You half-heartedly try to tug your wrists back, but he holds them tightly. “Fuck me till I can’t walk,” you say. “Come on.”
Roger takes a breath, and then lets your wrists go. “Bed. Now.”
You scramble to obey, clenching your thighs together at the sight of Roger. He looks wrecked already, his hair a mess, his skin flushed, his eyes glassy, his lips red. He goes to his bedside table and digs out a bottle of lube and some condoms. “Maybe should check the date on these,” he mutters to himself, and squints at the packets in his hands. After a few moments of peering at them, he sighs in frustration, and reaches for the pair of glasses on the table that you hadn’t noticed before. He slips them on, and then nods at the packets. “They’re fine.”
He goes to take the glasses off, but you say, “Wait, show me.”
He turns to you. “Show you what?”
Fuck, he looks gorgeous in those glasses. They’re large, round ones, with delicate silver frames, and you make a soft sound. “Oh, wow.”
“I know, they’re horrendous,” Roger says, taking off the glasses and setting them down. “My eyesight’s always been shite, but I can’t stand wearing the bloody things.”
“No, you look great,” you say. “So great, in fact, that I need you to get the condom on so you can fuck me literally right now.”
Roger raises his eyebrows. “You what?”
“I’m dying here, Roger,” you say loudly, smacking the bed beside you. “You look hot as fuck in those glasses, and I’m so insanely horny that I’m about to explode. I need your dick in me right now.”
Roger grins, and rips open the condom packet. “All right. Jeez.”
“Let me do it,” you say, crawling over to him and taking the condom from him.
“You’ve ever done it before?” he asks.
“Not since we had to at school when I was, like, fifteen.” You do it carefully, to the best of your memory. Your mouth waters being so close to his cock. “Is this right?”
“Yeah, perfect,” Roger says. “You look incredible, by the way.”
You look up at Roger, and the butterflies return. You’re left momentarily speechless, but it doesn’t matter, because Roger leans down and kisses you. His hand rests against your collarbones, and you get another idea in your head. You rise up into a kneel, keeping his lips on yours, and then you take his hand, pressing it against your throat: a silent invitation.
Roger moans into your mouth, and applies some pressure, just a bit, testing the waters.
It makes your core ache, and you kiss him harder, so he presses harder in return. His palm is warm against your throat, and you keep one hand loosely around his wrist, the other hand in his hair, as it is wont to do.
You end up lying back on the bed, Roger pressing his hand against your throat as you gasp and squirm.
“You like this, don’t you?” Roger says, fingers on his other hand dipping into your folds. “Fuck, feel how wet you are.”
You nod desperately. Your mouth is hanging open, and your head is starting to swim.
“Is that all for me, love?”
You whimper, nodding again. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears.
Roger lets go of your throat, and you gasp, your eyes wide. “More,” you say immediately. “More. Fuck me like that.”
Roger smiles, keeping his palm against your throat, but brushes his thumb across your skin. His other hand curls around your knee. “Your enthusiasm is… mind-blowing,” he says with a chuckle, “but just take a moment, yeah? You’re all over the shop. Slow down a bit.”
“I don’t wanna slow down,” you protest, grabbing onto his forearm.
“We’ve got time, love. It doesn’t have to be over so quickly.”
“You can’t tease me like that, almost make me come, like, three times, and then tell me to slow down,” you say. “I need you, Roger. Christ, I need you. Show me what it’s like, show me how good my first time can be.”
Roger’s pupils are blown wide, and he lets out a shaky breath. He swallows. “Spread your legs.”
You grin, and do so. Roger lets go of your throat and leans over you on all fours to kiss you briefly. “I’m not choking you while I fuck you,” he says. “I want you to feel all of it, not have your head somewhere else.”
You nod vigorously.
Roger reaches for the lube. You hold out your hand, and he raises an eyebrow at you, but pours some into your hand. You reach forward and slide your fist up and down his cock, spreading the lube. He groans and shudders, and then he says, “That’s enough, that’s enough, I want to fuck you.”
You take your hand away, wiping the lube on the sheets, Roger surges forward to capture your lips with his, and you feel the head of his cock nudging at your entrance. A shot of adrenaline explodes within you.
“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” Roger says, and you nod.
Then, slowly, he pushes into you, just an inch or two. You gasp at the stretch, gripping onto his arms, your mouth wide.
Roger stills, and nuzzles at your throat. “You okay?”
“Mm-hm,” you say, biting your lip. “Keep… Keep going.”
He does, rocking in shallowly, just going a little further each time. He’s panting against your neck, and you can feel your sweat pricking your skin. You can’t help but admire Roger’s back, the way the muscles move.
It feels good. Once you get over the initial shock to the system of having something that size inside you, you realise why you were so excited to get to this in the first place.
“I’m good,” you say, nails absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck. “It– It doesn’t hurt or anything.”
“You sure?” Roger asks, kissing your neck softly.
You can’t help but laugh. “Roger, for the love of all things holy, fuck me.”
He doesn’t need another invitation. He slams into you, and your eyes go wide, a tiny sound of surprise leaping out of you.
“Sorry,” Roger says, raising his head to kiss you in apology.
“Don’t fucking apologise, it feels good,” you say back. “Come on, come on.”
Roger laughs, and kisses you. You can feel his laughter against your lips, feel the way his smile changes the shape of his mouth, and that dangerously warm feeling in the pit of your stomach returns.
You could get used to this. Get used to Roger laughing against your lips as he’s buried inside you. Get used to teasing him, to turning him on, to rolling around in his bed.
As soon as the thoughts creep into your mind, you banish them. That’s not happening, you tell yourself harshly. This is a one-and-done deal. You can’t develop feelings for a man you’ve only met once. A man who is, by the way, in case you’ve forgotten, sixteen years older than you.
Then Roger pulls out halfway and drives back into you, and all you can think about is his dick.
Your hand goes back to your mouth, just like before, keeping yourself quiet as you moan and whimper. Your ankles hook over the small of Roger’s back.
But then Roger pauses, sitting up, and he unwraps your legs from around him and pushes one of your knees flat on the bed, keeping you spread out wide. “Hands away from your mouth, love,” he says. “Let me hear you. It’s okay, you can let go.”
Your face burns, and you cover it with both of your hands. It’s too big of an ask. You’ve never felt more vulnerable. “Roger…”
“[Y/N].”
You lower your hands. He’s watching you, his blue eyes burning with desire, but they’re soft, too. Understanding.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he says. “Hold onto the sheets, yeah? Can you do that for me?”
You nod, and, with no small amount of effort, let your arms go by your sides, your fists wrapping in the sheets.
Roger smiles. “You’re amazing.”
You turn your head away, overwhelmed.
“Eyes on me. Hey.”
You look back at him. Exposed. You’re exposed, in every sense of the word.
Roger braces himself on the bed beside your ribs, and, keeping one hand on your knee, holding it down, he starts fucking into you again, hard and deep.
The sound you make could best be described as a mewl, and it’s a sound you’ve never heard yourself make before. Your hands tighten in the sheets, fighting the urge to cover your face again. Roger’s eyes are still on yours, and it’s too much, you want to look away, but you can’t.
“So good for me,” Roger pants. “Fuck. God, you’re incredible.”
You whine. “Roger.”
“That’s it, love. Say my name.”
He thrusts into you at just the right angle, making your back arch. “Roger.”
Roger groans, and he lets go of your knee to circle his fingers around your clit. You gasp, your eyes finally breaking away from his to look to the ceiling, feeling yourself climbing rapidly for the fourth time that night.
“Let me come, let me come, please,” you beg, your arms straining as your fists pull on the sheets.
Roger leans forward again to kiss you, a mess of heavy breathing and tongues and lips brushing. You let go of the sheets to clutch onto him, pawing at his shoulders and back and hips, unable to settle on where you want to hold him.
One hand inevitably slides into his hair, and you grip onto it, tugging it hard. Roger’s rhythm stutters, and he groans out your name.
His fingers feel so fucking good, and, doubled with the way he’s stretched you out, tripled with how he edged you before, you just know how hard you’re going to come. You can feel it building deeper within you than you’ve ever felt before, like an impending tsunami.
Roger readjusts, sitting back again, his brow furrowed as he searches for just the right spot to hit you.
When he does, you cry out. “Right there, right there, fuck.”
Your hands scrabble for purchase, and one finds your own hair, burying itself, and you don’t pull, but you keep a firm grip on it, the slight pain being the only thing keeping you from losing yourself entirely. Your other hand finds the same spot as before in the sheets, and you sob, screwing your eyes shut.
“You close?” Roger asks, and you nod.
“Say it out loud, love.”
“Yes, I’m so close, I’m so close,” you gasp. You’re almost there, you can feel it, only inches away, moments away.
“Open your eyes, come on.”
You do, and meet his gaze. “Roger,” you whimper.
“You gonna come for me?”
“Y-yeah.”
“I wanna hear it, yeah? Wanna see you. See you come undone on my cock.”
And that’s the final nail in the coffin. You orgasm pulses through you, so hard that you convulse, and you wail, blurting out Roger’s name, clenching down on him. Your blood roars in your ears, and you’ve never come so hard in your life.
Roger moans out, “Fuck,” and then pumps once, twice more, and then comes, groaning your name, a shudder ripping through him.
When he comes back to himself, blinking his big blue eyes at you, you can’t help but think he looks otherworldly. His face, pink, shines with sweat, as does his whole body. Locks of hair stick to his forehead, his temples. His mouth hangs open, and his chest heaves, and maybe it’s the ten-out-of-ten orgasm you just had, but in that moment, you kinda want to marry him.
He takes the hand you’ve tangled in the sheets, and presses a kiss to your wrist. Your heart just about explodes. “You all right?”
You splutter. “All right? The fuck’s that meant to mean?”
Roger smiles, massaging the palm of your hand with his thumb. “I mean, are you hurting anywhere?”
My heart hurts from you being all hot and perfect and stupidly romantic, you think. “No,” you say. “I’m just fine.”
He pulls out of you, carefully, and it does nothing but reignite a spark of arousal within you. Then he collapses onto the bed beside you with an unmistakable dad noise, and takes off the spent condom, tying it off and tossing it into the rubbish bin beside his bed. When that’s done, he wastes no time in rolling onto his side and pulling you in for a kiss. You hum happily, shifting closer to him, not even caring about the sweat and how wet you are all over your inner thighs.
When he breaks away, he says, “So. How do you feel?”
“Like I just had the biggest orgasm of my life,” you say.
Roger chuckles. “I meant now that you’re, y’know…”
It clicks. “Now I’ve lost my virginity?” you say playfully. “Had my sexual debut? I’ve become a woman?”
“Not that any of it matters, of course,” Roger adds. “But it’s still… It can be a big thing.”
You give him a soft kiss. “Yeah, it doesn’t matter,” you say. “Virginity is nothing but a social construct and all of that.”
“Of course,” Roger reiterates.
“But I feel… happy.” You hope your grin isn’t as cheesy as it feels. “It’s nice to not have to… worry about it anymore, I suppose? I don’t know if I was really worrying about it before, but it… I don’t know.” You shrug. “I just had a really good time. That’s all that matters.”
“Good.” Roger’s hand goes to your hip, squeezing it. “I’m glad.”
“Did…” You lick your lips. “Did you have a good time?”
“Did I have a good time?” Roger repeats, almost aghast. “Are you joking?”
“Even though I had no idea what I was doing?”
“You’re a natural.”
You laugh. Your stomach squirms – both because of those ridiculous maybe-almost-could-be feelings, and because, even though you know in your mind that the whole sex part of the evening is over, your body certainly isn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet.
Your thighs clench together, but you do your best to hide how it feels. You don’t want to be greedy.
Roger feels your thighs move under his hand, though, and he looks to you questioningly. “Are you still–”
“No, no, I’m fine,” you say lightly, shaking your head. “I was just moving around.”
Roger pauses, and then says, “All right.” He kisses you, and then takes a moment to gather his energy before he sits up. “I’ll get us some water.” He turns to you, pointing a finger at you, as if something just occurred to him. “You should go pee.”
Your eyes widen, and you nod. “Oh, yes, good thinking.”
“Bathroom’s just there,” he says, gesturing across the room at the closed door.
“You have an en suite?”
“Well, yeah. Much easier when there’s kids around.” His face falls a little. “Not that I’ve had the kids here very often recently, but uh…”
“I’m sorry,” you say.
He shakes his head. “Sorry. It’s fine. Great way to bring down the mood, eh?” He leans down again to kiss you, and then stands up, stretching. “Be back in a mo’.”
You watch him, your gaze hawk-like, as he pulls on his neon-green underwear and disappears out the door, raking his hand through his hair as he goes.
Your thighs clench together again, and you whimper.
You try to push it aside, and slide off the bed to go the bathroom, pulling on your underwear as you go. You don’t exactly feel like putting your push-up bra back on, but you don’t want to just lounge around completely naked. Would it be too presumptuous to put on Roger’s shirt?
You bite your lip, considering, and then decide to just bite the bullet, slipping it on and buttoning it up. It’s comfy, and smells like him; you understand why women in movies do it now. You do have to call bullshit on wearing a man’s shirt like a short, cute dress though – it’s more just like a long shirt, and you’re glad you’ve chosen to put on underwear.
It feels odd to pee in a stranger’s house – even odder that it’s an en suite – but you’re thankful that you get a moment to properly gather yourself in private, instead of while being surrounded by the smell of sex.
It’s when you’re washing your hands that you finally get a look at yourself in the mirror. Your mouth drops open in horror.
You look like a fucking mess. Your foundation is patchy where you get oily and where you’ve sweated it off, and there’s a slight ring of smudged mascara under your eyes – honestly, you’re thankful that it’s not worse, and that your setting spray did at least something. Your hair, though, is the worst of it all. You look like you’ve been dragged through a bush backwards.
“Oh, shit,” you whisper to yourself. What can you do? You don’t have any make-up with you to try to fix the problems, but you can’t exactly take it off, either. You have no way to fix your hair. You untie it from the ponytail it was in and try to smooth it out, but it doesn’t really do much, so you tie it back up again, but it’s a shitty ponytail, so you untie it and try again. Then you try a third time, and give up, settling on the disaster that it is, and grab a tissue, blotting at your make-up.
You sigh, staring at your reflection. Well, fuck. What the fuck are you meant to do? How the hell can you go back into the bedroom, knowing you look like this?
“[Y/N]?” Roger calls. “You all right in there, love?”
You shiver. God, the way he says the word ‘love’. The way he says your name.
You clear your throat. “Um, yeah, I’m– I’m fine. Just…” You can’t say you’re still peeing. Oh, fuck, what if he thinks you’re taking a shit or something? “I’m just fixing up my make-up.”
“I think there might still be some make-up wipes in a drawer somewhere, if you want to have a look,” Roger says. “Maybe they’re no good anymore, I’m not sure.”
You have a dig around, and find a packet. It’s already been opened, quite a while ago by the looks of it. Must be Roger’s ex-wife’s.
The thought of that sits weirdly with you, but you’re not quite sure why. Almost like you feel like you’re intruding, maybe. You certainly don’t feel like you belong here, in this bougie, nice house.
You sigh again, and pull out a handful of make-up wipes, seeing if there’s any that still hold any moisture. One in the middle has a little bit, so you carefully run it under your eyes, and lightly tap it over your forehead and down your neck to soothe your skin, fixing up any problem areas as best you can without it being too obvious that you’ve just wiped off the make-up.
The end result is fine. Not good, and certainly not great, but… yeah. Fine.
You throw the make-up wipes into the bin, take a deep breath, and exit the bathroom.
Roger’s on his phone, and he looks up when he hears the door open. His face goes slack when he sees you. “You’re wearing my shirt?”
“Isn’t that what girls are meant to do after sex?” you joke.
“I just haven’t seen, um, anyone do that in… in a long time,” he says, somewhat stilted, and he glances down at his hands. He quickly turns his eyes back to you. “It looks good. Really good.”
“Thank you,” you say, and pad over to the bedside table near him, where he has two glasses of water waiting. “Which one’s mine?”
“On the left.” Roger sets his phone down and watches you as you take a sip of water.
He’s close to you, and, like before you kissed for the first time, you’re hyperaware of every movement. But he barely moves, just waits for you.
When you put the water down, you hesitate. You want to climb on top of him, kiss him, feeling his arms around you again, but is that too much? Does he want you to go? Are you overstaying your welcome?
“You all right?” he asks gently.
You nod. “Um, yeah,” you say, and take a step back. “You probably, um, have work or something tomorrow, so I should go.”
You don’t miss the way Roger’s face falls a bit. “Oh, you want to go?”
No. “Well, it– I don’t want to impose…”
“If you want to go, then I’ll order an Uber for you,” Roger says. “But don’t feel like you have to go if you don’t want to.”
The Amazonian butterflies are back yet again. “I…”
“Because – and correct me if I’m wrong,” Roger says, reaching out and tugging on his shirt, pulling you closer, and you go without any resistance, “but I think you were telling a bit of a fib before, when you said you were… what did you say? Just moving around?”
You press your lips together as Roger guides you between his legs, and he tilts his head back to gaze up at you. He smiles at the look on your face. “Am I right?”
You can feel your face heating up again. “No,” you mumble unconvincingly, hiding your smile behind your hand.
“No hands over mouths,” Roger murmurs, reaching up and taking yours. “You don’t have to hide.”
Fuck. Oh, fuck. His voice sounds like a warm fireplace feels, and you barely even know him, but you’ve never felt safer, more comfortable, around a man. You can’t pretend now – you’re really starting to like him.
Roger raises his eyebrows at you, just a touch, searching your face. “So? Am I right?”
“It’s fine,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m fine, really. You’ve done plenty, I… I can’t ask for more.”
Roger hums, and presses a kiss to your palm before letting your hand go. “All right, okay,” he says. “I was wrong, I see. Can I at least tell you what I’d do to you if I had been right?”
You breathe in shakily, and nod once.
The corner of Roger’s mouth quirks up. “Well,” he says slowly, “first I’d kiss you, of course. And, as hot as you look wearing nothing but my shirt and your knickers, I’d undress you again. Get you lying down on your back, all spread out for me. I’d kiss you some more. Then I think I’d choke you, because you seem to like that a lot, yeah?”
You nod, hypnotised.
Roger nods as well. “Right. And then, while I was holding you down by your throat–”
You gulp.
“–I’d get my other hand, and I’d–”
“Okay, yes, you were right,” you blurt out, and grab his face, ducking down to kiss him desperately. He kisses you with just as much hunger, and nudges you a few steps back, giving him enough room so he can stand up and start unbuttoning the shirt. As soon as he’s done, your shrug it from your shoulders, and Roger pulls you closer by your ass. One hand moves to cup your jaw, his tongue pressing against yours. It doesn’t take long before the hand shifts to your throat, and you whimper softly, urging him to tighten his grip.
He does, and the feeling of it goes straight to your core. Your hands clutch at him frantically.
He lets go of your throat, and you suck in a gasp, then latch onto his neck, kissing and nipping and sucking at his skin, licking off the salty traces of sweat.
“Careful, love, careful,” he says shakily. “I can’t turn up to work looking like I’ve been attacked by a vacuum.”
You huff, but soften your kisses. He moans under his breath, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything hotter.
Soon, you break away, and crawl back onto the bed, and he follows you, positioning himself on all fours above you to kiss you deeply, his knee slotting into between your thighs. He presses it against your core, and you instinctively grind against it, shuddering when it fires an electric shock of arousal through your system. Roger shifts, readjusting his balance so he can bring his hand back to your throat, and you welcome it. You grind against his leg again.
It’s when you have to stop kissing him, your brain going into overdrive trying to force you to focus on breathing, you have to breathe, that Roger sits back, moving his leg out of the way and replacing it with his other hand.
“Fuck, Roger,” you gasp, twitching under his grip, your hands vice-like on his forearm. Your eyes slide closed, revelling in the way your head swims, the way your body fights to suck as much oxygen as it can into your lungs. You’re still so wet from before, still so stretched out, that Roger slides two fingers into you at the same time with ease, and you let out a stuttering moan, bucking your hips into his hand. His fingers swirl around your clit, hitting it in just the right way, and within minutes you’re almost there.
“Most people think the best part about getting choked is the actual ‘getting choked’ part,” Roger says out of the blue, and you frown, trying to follow, opening your eyes.
“Hear me out,” Roger says casually, pushing his fingers back into you and flicking your clit with his thumb, and you whine. “Are you close, love?”
You nod.
Roger hums. “You look so good like this. Does it feel good?”
You nod again. “Mm-hm.”
“Yeah, looks like it does. Looks like you enjoy it.”
“Ah, Roger, please.”
“It’s all right, love, I’ve got you.” Roger’s fingers quicken their pace, and you make a sound, squirming.
“As I was saying,” Roger continues, “people think the best part of getting choked is actually getting choked. But it’s not. The best part of it is actually being let go. Do you want to see?”
You nod, barely even listening to what he’s saying. You’re too close to coming to pay attention.
And then Roger lets go of your throat at the same time he brushes your clit, and a rush of oxygen flows into your lungs, a rush of blood flows back to your head, and your orgasm slams into you, and the world seems so much brighter in that moment. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” you gasp, your back arching, your eyes wide.
It feels like it goes on for a lifetime, although perhaps that’s just your mind trying to sort itself out. When you do finally start to come down from your high, you realise you’re shaking, and Roger is grinning at you. You blink at him owlishly.
“Wh– Huh?” you breathe, your heart racing, and Roger laughs.
“So you’re alive, then,” he teases, and leans down to kiss you.
You grab onto him, kissing him soundly, and roll the both of you over, so you’re straddling him. You just stay like that, just making out, letting the frenzied kisses lull themselves into something slower, something calmer. Just kissing for the sake of it. Roger’s hands stroke up and down your back, and you could almost fall asleep like this.
Speaking of falling asleep – you have to break away, hiding your yawn by tucking your face into his chest. Roger hums, and you can feel it vibrating against your body. You smile. “Sorry,” you mumble.
“Can hardly blame you,” Roger says, his voice low. “It’s late.”
You let yourself slump against him, a moment of pure self-indulgence, and then roll to the side, dumping yourself onto the bed. You groan, unable to stop yourself from instinctively shifting into a more comfortable position for sleeping, your arm beneath your head like a pillow, your eyes closing.
“I’m sorry,” you say again, muffled by your arm. “I’ll leave in a minute.”
Roger says nothing, and you feel your stomach coil in guilt. God, he wanted you to leave fifteen minutes ago, didn’t he? He was just too polite to say anything. And then you pressured him into making you come again, because you were too selfish to know when enough was enough. Great, fucking great, you’ve fucked it all up, and you’re a huge piece of shit, and you–
“Did you want to stay the night?” Roger asks tentatively.
Your eyes fly open, and you shift up onto your elbow. “What?” you say. “Stay?”
Roger glances away from you. “It– It was just a suggestion,” he says. “Just an idea, I don’t know. I, um – it’s just late, and I don’t want you travelling all that way on your own. You can, obviously, if you want to, that’s up to you, I just…”
You’re hardly even listening. You’re still struggling to drink in the first thing he said. “You want me to stay?” you ask.
Roger looks to you, and bites his bottom lip. “If– Well, if you want to, then, um, yes, I’d like you to. But only if you want to.”
You beam, and your heart triples in size. “Um, yes. I’d like to.”
Roger smiles back. “Good. Great. That’s–” He clears his throat. “Did you want to have a shower?”
“I think so,” you say with a laugh. “I’m…” You went to say I’m so disgusting right now, but you don’t want to fuck up your now-sleepover before it’s even properly begun. “Yes please.”
“Well, you know where the bathroom is,” Roger says, nodding towards the en suite. “There’s a spare toothbrush in the drawer, if I remember correctly. I’ll get you a towel.”
“You’re not coming into the shower with me?” you ask coyly.
Roger blinks, and you laugh.
“Oh,” he says. “You were joking.”
“I wasn’t,” you say. “You just made me laugh.”
Roger swoops down to steal a kiss, and you don’t let him leave, pushing up into him, stealing a few kisses back.
“Let me get you a towel,” he says, and then climbs off the bed and pads out of the room.
You bite on your finger to stop yourself from making some stupid giggle, or maybe a dumb squealing sound like a little girl. He asked you to stay the night. He wants you to stay the night.
Oh, shit, you realise, your finger dropping from your mouth. Justine. You never told her what was happening.
Where’s your phone? In the living room. Spitting out a curse, you pull on your underwear and Roger’s shirt again, and hurry out. You run into Roger, arms full of sheets, in the hallway. “Hey, is everything all right?” he says. “What did you forget?”
“I never told my roommate I wasn’t coming home,” you say. “Last she heard, I was about to book an Uber.”
Roger’s eyes go a little wider. “Shit, whoops. Yeah, go tell her.”
You shoot him a smile, and scurry off to the living room. Your phone is on the couch, and you snatch it up. Wow, shit, it is late. You’re glad you only have an afternoon lecture tomorrow.
Thankfully, just one message from Justine, from about half an hour ago. hey, haven’t heard from u in a while. just send me a message when u get this ok? xx
You respond. fuck sorry, left my phone in the other room. I have SO MUCH to tell u omg, but in a nutshell uhh we ended up sleeping together, it was fucking amazing, and now he’s asked me to stay over, so ill see u at uni tomorrow maybe? if not then at home xx
You keep your phone in hand, and head back to Roger’s room. He’s started cleaning up in the minute you were gone, stripping the bed. Fresh sheets sit on the floor. “What’s this?” you ask.
“I’m making the bed,” Roger says simply, tugging a pillow from its case. “I’m too old to be sleeping on sheets I’ve just had sex on. Let me tell you, it makes a difference. And the sheets were due for a change, anyway.”
You step forward. “Well, let me help.”
“Don’t be silly, jump in the shower.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” You set your phone down beside his on the bedside table, and together the two of you help remake his bed.
Roger chases you into the shower then, and says he’s going to tidy up the room a little more before he joins you. “I’m on a roll now,” he says, picking up your shoes from where you kicked them aside during the bed-making. “Can’t stop, won’t stop.”
You take the make-up wipes. The door is about halfway open, and you can hear Roger moving around, hear when he trips over something and hisses out a curse, making you smile.
The make-up wipe freezes in the air near your eye. You can’t very well have a shower and go to bed without taking your make-up off – it does not make even a vague semblance of a pretty picture – but this is… way more intimate than you were expecting. Why didn’t you think of this when you agreed to stay over? Roger’s going to see you without your make-up on, with your hair tied up in a bun. He’s going to see you in the morning, all bleary-eyed and disgusting. Fuck, morning breath. You have the spare clothes you brought that you can change into tomorrow, but no extra underwear. Nothing to wear tonight. It’s a miracle that Roger even has a spare toothbrush. What time does he get up for work? Will he expect you to leave before he wakes up?
Are you a one-night-stand? Is that what this is? Are you asked to stay the night if you’re nothing but a one-night-stand, or does the fact that he asked you mean something else?
“Is your roommate all right?” Roger asks, coming to the door, leaning against the doorjamb. “No freak-outs?”
You lower the make-up wipe. “Um, no. It’s all fine, I think.”
“Have you found the toothbrush?”
“No, I haven’t checked yet.”
Roger moves around you, pulling open the drawer and rummaging through. “Ah, here it is. Still in the packet! How good am I?”
You smile as he presents it to you like it’s a medal of honour. “Thanks.”
“Sorry about the make-up wipes,” Roger says. “They’re not great.” He huffs, and then leans against the edge of the sink, rubbing his hands down his face. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m… I’m actually really nervous.”
Your eyebrows shoot up. “Nervous?” you repeat. “About what?”
“About… you staying over,” he confesses. “It’s been, I don’t know, ten years since I’ve had anyone new sleep over. My brain is suddenly filled with every annoying thing I do when I sleep. And I look awful in the mornings, let me tell you. If you think I look bad now, just you wait.”
“Who says I think you look bad now?” you say. “I thought I made it perfectly clear that I think you’re a hot piece of ass, Roger.”
Roger splutters, flustered, and you grin.
“I move around a lot,” he says. “When I sleep. So be prepared to cop an elbow to the face.”
“Don’t you worry, I’m a heavy sleeper,” you say. “And I move around, too.”
“I run hot,” Roger adds. “I’m like a space heater. And sometimes I talk in my sleep, but only when I’m really stressed about something, like work. I can be really very clingy.”
“I run cold,” you say with a shrug. “So clingy suits me fine.”
Roger pauses, staring at you, like he wasn’t expecting an answer like that. Then he snaps out of it, glancing away. “Sorry,” he says for a third time.
“Don’t apologise,” you say, shaking your head. “You don’t have to. I’m nervous, too. Like, really fucking nervous. I’m– I’m too nervous to even take my make-up off.”
Roger’s eyes search your face. “I won’t care what you look like,” he says gently. “I’m sorry that you feel nervous about taking it off. But it won’t matter, I promise.”
“Just wait and see,” you joke in a sing-song voice.
Roger is silent for a few moments, and then he says, “Well, I hope you’re ready. I’m going to kiss the bloody daylight out of you when you take it off.”
You don’t know how to respond. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I’m going to. I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure you don’t feel uncomfortable without make-up on. And if that means I have to keep kissing you all night as a reminder that it doesn’t matter what you look like without make-up, then that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”
You duck your head, making a disgruntled sound. Why does he have to say cute shit like that? Why must he make you suffer?
Roger pushes the packet of make-up wipes a little closer to you, waggles his eyebrows at you, making you giggle, and then reaches across you for his toothbrush.
You start wiping off your make-up.
Roger waits until you’ve finished taking it off, until you’ve brushed your teeth, until you’re well and truly left without anything to do, and then he cups your face in his hands and does exactly what he promised he’d do.
One steamy make-out session and one far-too-long shower later, you’re sitting on the newly-made bed, wrapping in a towel, the strands of hair that slipped loose from your bun sticking to your neck and temples. You’re watching Roger pull on a pair of underwear and rifle through his chest of drawers. He pulls out a huge shirt, clearly worn and well-loved, and turns to you, holding it out. “I went on a day trip once to Brighton,” he says. “We were out to a pub and I spilled red wine all over my shirt. Had to buy a new one. Sent one of my mates to get it for me and he came back with this. Hence why I have a shirt about five sizes too big for me.”
“You didn’t have to explain,” you say with a chuckle, taking it from him.
“I feel like I did,” Roger says. “I, um, usually use it as a sleep shirt when I travel.”
You slip it on, and then stand up, letting your towel drop to the floor. The shirt is long enough to cover everything, but you’re not about to bend down any time soon.
You glance over at your underwear, where they’re in a pile near the door. Should you put them back on?
“Please don’t,” Roger blurts.
You look to him. “Huh?”
His face goes red. “Um. I just– I– You– I saw you look over there, and–” He rubs his hand along his jaw. “I, um…” He looks to the ceiling, and says it in a rush. “I’m sorry this sounds awful but I saw you looking over at your knickers and I don’t want you to put them on because you look really hot wearing my shirt and the thought of you wearing nothing underneath makes my brain explode.”
“You’re one to talk,” you say, “standing in front of me in nothing but a pair of boxers like that doesn’t make my brain explode.”
Roger’s eyes flick towards yours, and he breaks out into a smile, and then laughs. “I guess we’re even, then.”
“We’ll be truly even when I see you wearing my clothes,” you say teasingly.
Roger steps in close, his hands coming to your waist. “I don’t think your dress would fit properly, love.”
“I’ll have to come better prepared next time,” you say, and Roger hums, leaning in to give you a kiss.
Next time. Next time. You said ‘next time’. Talk about presumptuous. Christ! What is wrong with you?
You break away. “Not that I think there’ll be a next time,” you say quickly. No. Bad phrasing. “I don’t want to assume there’ll be a next time.” Still bad. “I don’t want you to think that I think there has to be a next time.” Even worse. “I don’t want you to feel obliged to have a next time if you don’t want there to be.” Better. Not great, but passable.
“I want a next time,” Roger says. “If you want one.”
“I do,” you say, God, far too eager. “I’d really like there to be a next time.”
“Me too,” Roger says.
You press into him for another kiss, and then, finally, the two of you make it to bed.
Once you’re under the covers, you almost fall asleep immediately. You didn’t realise how exhausted you are. Roger reaches over and switches off the light, and then wraps an arm around your stomach, his front against your spine.
You allow yourself to smile freely in the dark, even as your eyes close and you drift off to sleep.
~~~
“I’m… I’m going to send you the rest of the payment,” Roger says. He’s dressed for work, just in a white dress shirt and black slacks, and you’d been admiring him and enjoying the coffee he’d made you after you’d gotten out of the shower. It’s early – too early, for both of you.
But now your stomach drops, and you lower your mug of coffee from your lips. “You are?”
“Yes,” Roger says.
“You don’t have to,” you say. “I said it last night, I don’t care about the money.”
“I know,” Roger says. “But it’s still right. You started this whole thing to help pay the bills, and it’s not your fault that there was that whole mix-up. You don’t deserve to miss out on getting the money you’ve rightfully earned.”
“You don’t deserve to fork out that much money because of that whole mix-up,” you say. “You’ve already paid half of it. And it’s– it’s quite a fair bit, Roger.”
“I can afford to pay it,” Roger says. “I’m living more than comfortably. Giving you the money you’ve earned would just mean that I can’t, I don’t know, travel overseas this year.” He raises his eyebrows a touch. “Well, now that I might not have to be paying for three kids as well, maybe I’ll still be able to afford to go.” He shakes his head. “That’s beside the… My point is, I can afford it. And you deserve it.”
You don’t know what to say. “Roger…”
“Just let me,” he says earnestly. “Please. I want to.”
You open and close your mouth a few times. God, you’d be mad to turn down the money. But it doesn’t feel right. Does it? You don’t even know what to think.
You glance down at your mug. “All right,” you say quietly, so much so that you’re not even sure if he can hear you. But you can’t bring yourself to speak any louder. “Thank you, Roger.”
“Hey.”
You look up at him, and he smiles. “You can pay me back by letting me take you out to dinner.”
Your face immediately grows hot. “Suave motherfucker,” you say, and he laughs.
“I still have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he says playfully.
Your stomach squeezes. “Sure,” you say. “But I’m paying.”
Roger snorts. “Not bloody likely.”
“I’ll fight you for the cheque, don’t think I won’t.”
“Maybe I’ll just sneakily pay for it before you’ve even realised.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “Can we settle on going Dutch?”
Roger sips his coffee. “All right,” he says eventually.
“Good.”
He takes out his phone, holding it out to you. “Text me some time during this week,” he says. “About where you want to go. Or just text me if you want to say hi. Or call me. Y’know, whatever.”
You tilt your head to the side as you take his phone. “That wasn’t quite as suave, I have admit.”
Roger sighs. “Damn.”
You laugh, and send a quick text to yourself, then slide the phone back to him.
He seems extremely pleased, but he takes a casual drink from his coffee like he’s trying to hide it, and you can’t help but think it’s horribly cute.
He shoots a glance at you, and sees you grinning at him, and his cheeks turn pink, and he clears his throat, turning away to the sink to rinse his mug out.
~~~
You’re at uni, half-asleep, shuffling back to the bus stop after your never-ending lecture, when Justine barrels into you, grabbing your elbow so tightly that you yelp. “What the fuck happened last night?” she exclaims.
You don’t know why it hadn’t been awkward this morning. Apart from the money conversation. There had still been some nervousness, on your part anyway, but Roger had been too focused on getting ready for work to let any uncomfortable silences hang. You have to admit that it had been nice to wake up with someone’s arm around you, and you had been quietly delighted to see Roger fussing over the faint bruises on his neck, pulling up his shirt collar and adjusting his tie to try to cover them. After you’d both gotten ready for the day, he’d dropped you at the nearest bus stop. “And I will text you,” he’d said seriously. “Don’t think I won’t.”
“Good,” you’d said. “I’ll be waiting for it. Three days is the general rule, right?”
Roger had groaned. “Don’t make me wait three days.”
You had chuckled. “I’m not making you do anything.” You’d hesitated, and then said, “Is it weird if I kiss you before I go?”
Roger had taken a breath. “I… wouldn’t say so, no.”
So you’d leant in and kissed him, and he’d kissed you back, and you’d wanted to keep kissing him, but a car had pulled up behind you and honked, so you’d drawn back, whispered, “Bye,” and gotten out of the car.
Once you’d figured out how to get home, you’d crashed, sleeping until your alarm had woken you up again for your lecture.
“Stuff,” you say to Justine.
“Stuff?” Justine squawks. “Don’t give me that shit. You have to tell me literally everything, or I’m going to kill you. Come on.” She loops her arm through yours, and starts towing you towards the bus stop.
Your phone buzzes, and you pull it out of your pocket.
I know it hasn’t been three days, but it’s been more than three hours. Is that enough time, do you think?
You smile, reply, I think so, yeah, then quickly pocket the phone before Justine can sneak a glance as Amazonian butterflies flutter around in your stomach.
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Of Latte’s and Lingerie: MLBCN Coffee Shop AU
A part two to this fic I posted. Bc of quarantine I’ve been getting back into creating content like fanart and fics so I thought I’d actually do something with this instead of let it sit in a folder collecting dust.
Quick Warning: For now I’m gonna say this is rated T for Teen and Up for language(I’m sorry I’m so vulgar and it translates a lot in my writing. my bf says its the russian in me) but if that changes I’ll be sure to post that in any future updates.
Also I still really want to hear feedback on this because I’ve never really pursued fics and I’m always here for constructive criticism. Also if I feel like nobody likes it, for obvious reasons I’m probably not gonna do anything with it. Anywhoo, thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy!
“What’s his name?”
Nino scratched his head.
“Uh, I dunno dude, it’s a cat.”
“Cat’s have names too ya know.” Adrien rolled his eyes.
“What is he eating?’
“Cheese! Its kinda all I have in my fridge right now.” Adrien got a little closer to the ravenous black cat, that was absolutely devouring the piece of camembert in front of him.
“Nino, do you know anything about cats.”
“No! It’s not like I’ve ever had one before. That’s why I texted you.” Adrien was able to scratch the little black cat behind the ears and he felt it purr. He smiled.
“Ill take him home with. I’ve been wanting to adopt a cat for ages.” That wasn’t entirely a lie. Adrien had been wanting a cat. But he’d never actually considered the possiblity of owning one. He’donly just got his own place and Adrien was still discovering all the possiblities of freedom when you lived on your own.
“Better you than me, you know I can’t take care of myself, let alone a whole other animal.” Adrien laughed.
“No kidding. Who only keeps cheese in their fridge?”
….
The whole way home Adrien’s eyes flashed to the little black cat that slept in his back seat. He couldn’t believe it was so calm. He was positive that most cats didn’t act like that, specifically around strangers.
He was subconciously brushing his hair out of his eyes, He wondered what it wouls be like if he cut it all off. He’s positive that would be the final straw for his father. He’d actually kill Adrien.
Adrien’s thoughts were everywhere. Before he knew it he was home, with no recollection of the journey. He was a little on edge since he’d told his father he wanted to quit modeling. For obvious reasons, Gabriel Agreste did not take it very well. But Adrien had prepared. He saved the hell out of his money, found a new place to live, a job as an interpreter at a non profit organization, and gathered all of his belongings. At least, the ones that mattered. He made sure there was nothing left for Gabriel to hold over his head.
“I’m an adult, father. I have a degree that I’d actually like to use. I know you mean well but it’s time for me to do what’s right for me. Your ambitions aren’t mine.”
The discussion ended with some choice words that weren’t worth repeating, Adrien didn’t like being on bad terms with his dad but for once in his life he was free to do whatever the hell he wanted and he was gonna take advantage of that.
He started small. There was suddenly a whole new world of food and Adrien would be damned if he didn’t eat it all. He was no longer limited to black coffee and protein shakes. He could finally gorge himself on pastries and sugar loaded frappuccino’s. God he was such a whore for a good mocha frappuccino. And Dunn’s knew exactly what was up when it came to a good mocha frappe. Loaded with chocolate and love and more chocolate.
Adrien was happy. But it didn’t mean that there wasn’t that nagging voice in his head, screaming that he needed to please his father. Adrien’s anxiety had been creeping up on him for weeks, ever since he’d moved out of his father’s home and it was starting to hit him like a fucking train. Maybe he needed to go to therapy.
Adrien was pulled out of his thoughts by the meowing cat in the back seat. And just like that, Adrien’s worries were drifting away.
“I think I’ll call you Plagg. What do you say to that?” The cat said nothing, and Adrien took it as approval.
“C’mon Plagg, lets get something to eat.”
…
“I’m so sorry Audrey, I don’t know how that happened.” Marinette was very stressed out. Actually, “very stressed out” didn’t even cut it. Marinette was on the verge of a goddamn heart attack. Audrey Bourgeois was easily the most difficult person to work for on the planet and she did not accept anything less than perfection. But luckily, Marinette’s work exceeded expectations in every capacity, which meant that she wasn’t going to be fired. Not today at least.
“It wasn’t your fault. But I swear on my Versace sunglasses Marinette Dupain-Cheng if you don’t find a new assistant, I’m going to fire your whole team. Do I make myself clear? You’re a professional now. Every detail matters. And not just in the clothes.” Marinette nodded her head.
“Of course!” Audrey’s eyes lingered on Marinette’s for a moment before she turned back to the line of lingerie that Marinette had slaved over.
“These pieces really are magnificent.” Audrey mumbled, her fingers ghosting over the fabric.
“You know my daughter may be modeling one.” Marinette nodded.
“I’m sure she’ll look great ma’am.”
“Have you ever met my Chloe? She’s about your age Marinette.” Marinette shook her head.
“Oh no ma’am, I don’t think so.” Audrey laughed for a moment.
“I’m sure you’ll despise her. She’s a lot like me.” Marinette’s eyes nearly bulge out of her head.
“Oh, Audrey if she’s anything like you, I’m sure she’s great! Really.”
“It’s all right Marinette, I know who I am. I’ve been a bitch since I came out of the womb. But that’s what makes a businesswoman my dear. You really ought to take note if you want to own your own business one day.” Marinette scoffed internally. As if. Marinette didn’t even know how she was going to fire her assistant, let alone manage an entire company. Marinette knew who she was too. She didn’t have what it took to be a businesswoman. But she had what it took to be a fashion designer. So she was happy to be working at a major company, even if she did work for a bitch.
“Marinette I’m sure you’re exhausted. Feel free to go home. Now that we have this whole fiasco figured out.” Marinette sighed and nodded her head. She felt a little dead inside. Her exhaustion had hit peak levels and she couldn’t believe she let Tim talk her into Hot Chocolate. How naïve to think that something wouldn’t go wrong and keep her from her appointment with her pillow. Her very soft, comfy pillow. Marinette had never been more motivated to leave the office in her life.
When she got home, Marinette heard the purring at the door. She gave her little ginger kitty a soft smile and reached down to pick her up, nuzzling her face.
“Come on Tikki, let’s go to bed.”
Next Chapter
#mlbcn#mlb#mlb fanfic#adrien agreste#marinette dupain cheng#coffee shop au#miraculous ladybug#tw: language#tw: swearing#my fanfiction#my fic
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Hi Linda :) I’m here for some advice, I could’ve just send you a dm and reveal myself but then I thought that maybe others can take advantage from your answer. I don’t know why I’m asking you, it’s just that you seem such a nice and smart person and I trust you? Anyway, I’ve been wanting to write for some time but I’m afraid.. I don’t know where to start and I suffer from anxiety, I’m afraid I will get anxious over hits and comments. What do I need to do? Hope you don’t mind, thank you ☺️
Hi! First, I don’t have enough words to explain how flattered and honoured I am, I’m just not over the fact that you choose me of all people to help you out. And I understand why you went on anon, I respect that, but I wanted you to know that whenever you need help my ask box and chat are always open. That said, let’s jump into the sadness.
Sadness because to be honest, the moment I read this ask, I was both overwhelmed and sad. I just kept asking myself: “why would someone be afraid of writing?” It just doesn’t feel right that a person has to feel like that. But at the same time I know where you get this fear from, I’ll come back to it later.
Where to start? Well, writing doesn’t exactly have a rule for that. I mean, I started writing about 16 years ago (omg that’s very long time) and it just... happened. I’ve always had my head filled with random stories, so I just started writing them down. Now, I speak for myself, if I have an idea I can’t just take my computer and start writing like that. I love plotting, it’s my favourite part, so I write my characters’ personalities, curiosities, random things like their favourite colour or music taste or just aspects of their characterisation. Sometimes even lines and random dialogues. I create them, I create the world around them so I have a full view of what my story will be. Then I start writing, I just let my thoughts flow through my immagination and try to stick to my main plot. Obviously once you get into it, things might change, I did sometimes change the plot while writing bc it’s just how it goes. So my main advice for that, if you have inspiration for a story or for just one character, create a world around it. Start viewing a story in your head, then the writing itself will be easier than you expect! For example, I’m currently writing a Band of Brothers fic with a female OC: I’d never imagined to write a long fic with an OC, but one day I was reading about a woman who was a hero in WWII, and she used to parachute into enemy territory... so my head connected her to the tv show and that’s how she was born. And from that, from just her, I create a whole story. It also happened sometimes that I had in mind a fantasy world (I’m very much into fantasy, my stories are basically just that haha bc you have no limits in creating that, it’s not that you have to do research - even tho I do like research, but it takes more time and energy), and from that I created characters and laws and entire countries... writing is this, is creating things, and there’s no way someone can teach you that. You can get some advice - like the ones I just gave you - but no one can tell you how to do that. You can take inspiration from everything and everyone, for me personally I get inspired from random people I see on the street. My final advice is: just go for that. If you have an idea, or a character in mind, create a background and go for it.
About the anxiety due to views and comments... well, that’s another story. But if you like writing and creating contents, you first and foremost are doing it FOR YOU AND ONLY YOU. Don’t write just because other people do. I know the feeling of being proud of something and then when you post it it gets zero response, or barely a few. If you think about fanfictions, that also depends a lot on the fandom. Back in the day, when I used to write a fic every two days (sob, those were good days!), I was part of a few fandoms; for example when I used to post in the Harry Potter section I usually got loads of views and comments, same with Merlin and Glee. Because they were popular back then. But when I would write a fanfiction about Chronicles of Narnia or Lost, they barely had 2 views per day. And it was always me, like, Linda’s writing. Only thing different was the fandom. Obviously if someone loves your writing but their not into the same fandoms as yours, they happen to read your stories no matter what. Others don’t do that, and I don’t blame them bc sometimes I don’t do that either.
So, basically, you just have to get used to it and not let it ruin your creativity. Believe me, I know how it feels; I stopped some long fics just because I didn’t have enough appreciation and I learned just after that that it was wrong. Because again, you write for you. For example (sorry for so many examples but I find them useful), when I introduced my fic Hélène here on tumblr I got so many enthusiastic messages and 61 notes on the post, so in my head I was expecting at least 100 views the first day! Why? Dunno, I just did. The first day I posted my fic had barely 50 views, but it didn’t upset me bc I’m passionate about writing and especially about this story I’m just creating, that I won’t let a few views and votes let me down. It takes time to realise that, it really does, but trust me when I say it works eventually. It also depends on the website you will rely on. If you post on tumblr you have people reblogging and so your post reaches other people and so on. With Wattpad or Ao3 or Fanfiction Net or whatever, it’s just a matter of luck and honestly how you present your story: the title, the tags, the warnings, the summary...! Also, I learned that here on tumblr time zone does half the work. If I post in the morning no one sees, if I post from middle afternoon/night I get quite enough views! It might sound stupid, but it’s just how social media works haha same when I post on Instagram.
But I’m gonna say this: VIEWS DON’T DEFINE YOUR WORK.
To sum it up: you have an idea? Perfect, that’s your start. You upload a fanfiction and it doesn’t get the appreciation you expected? Don’t stress about it, if you keep stressing about it you won’t write anymore. I don’t know in which fandom you’re currently swimming, but in the BoB fandom I swear to you that everybody is so nice and supportive! I didn’t expect that at first, I was so surprised and in awe and I just love being here and share things with y’all. If you’re new to the writing obviously it takes time before people get to know you and your works, so just bear with that! And for the comments, I personally love leaving comments, because I like the feeling when I get them and so I want other people feel like that. I love critics as well, as long as they have a purpose, bc most of the time they help me as a person and as a writer. Remember: if someone takes the time to help you out, it means a lot.
Well, sorry for this never ending essay, I hope it’ll help you somehow! I’m not used to people trusting me like this, so I hope I made sense! Please know that whenever you need something I’m here for you always.
I wish you the loveliest of days 💛
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untitled harry fic- preview
AU in which you and Harry are friends with benefits but things get complicated, like they always do
word count: 1.5K
A/N: I used to write loads before and then I just stopped bc basically I didn’t have time to, and recently I’ve missed it... but I also feel like I’ve kinda lost it a little? I get stuck all the time, and now I just felt like sharing this little thing I’ve started and wanted to know what others think of it before I continue. So this is sorta just like a preview/test? To see if anyone even enjoys it haha. Trying to not make this little note too long but yeah, I have no idea if anyone is even going to find this but I thought I’d give it a go. To see. It’s been soooooo long since I wrote something, even longer since I posted anything. Feedback is SUPER appreciated. Good AND bad .xxxx
---------
His lips were hot against your skin as he leaned in to whisper in your ear.
“Your place or mine tonight?”
You smiled to herself. Your heart skipping a beat as his warm body pressed against your back. The music was loud around the two of you and you could hardly hear yourself think, yet his voice was clear as day. You turned to look at him and was met by his familiar grin as he looked right back.
“What makes you think I’ll be going home with you tonight?”
He snorted and raised his eyebrows, and you had to bite down on the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from smiling too much.
“Well, love” he started and spun you around so he could place his hands on your hips. You felt your cheeks flush under his stare as he pulled you even closer to him. He smelled like beer and tequila mixed with that cologne you loved so much. Your knees weakened and he smirked. “I think we both know you are.”
He was right.
But you weren’t going to let him have that.
“It’s awfully bold of you to assume such a thing Mr Styles.”
“Is it though?” He was still smirking down at you and you felt her knees weaken even more as his tongue poked out to wet his pink lips. Your heart was pumping so hard you were sure he would've heard it if it weren’t for the loud music. Sweaty bodies kept bumping into you on the overcrowded dance floor, which normally you couldn’t stand, but you were drunk. Very drunk. And you were also hungry, tired and you were in a huge need of a wee.
However, Harry was standing in front of you.
So needless to say nothing else really mattered anymore.
His mere presence made you forget about the people around you and suddenly your bladder didn’t seem so full after all. That’s the effect he had on you and he knew it. With his soft brown hair that curled so pretty at the tips, his smooth skin and green eyes; there was no way you weren’t going home with him again tonight. He was the best thing you had ever laid your eyes on and he also wanted you.
So who are you to say no?
“Yours then,” you said and tried to not sound too eager. Harry squeezed your hips as you finally confirmed you would indeed go home with one other again and pulled you even closer into him. His chest pressed against yours and you swore you could feel his heartbeat.
“See that wasn’t so hard to say, was it?” You knew he was pleased judging by the smug look on his face and rolled your eyes.
“But we’re stopping to buy fries on the way though,” and as much as it pained you to do; you pushed him off. “And you’re paying.”
Harry laughed and agreed, but not before adding; “I can give you something a lot better than fries once we get home.”
And well... you didn’t disagree.
-*-*-*-
You’re not entirely sure when this thing between the two of you started, or how it even started. It was just one of those things that happened one night. Harry first came into your life when your best friend Louisa started dating his mate Tom during your first year of uni.
The first time you met him you didn’t really speak to each other. It was really just a case of you admiring him from afar as he was approached by a handful of women at the bar. You thought he was probably the prettiest guy you had ever laid your eyes on and thought to yourself that he was way too cool for you.
It was obvious from the start by just watching him that he had an aura around him that drew everyone in. People, both boys and girls, flooded around him wherever he went. He was always the center of attention and you understood why. Because not only was he the prettiest guy you had ever seen... he was also one of the nicest guys you had ever met. At first you had just assumed he’d be an arsehole, because to be fair you’d never really met a guy that got that much attention that wasn’t.
However, the deeper Louisa’s and Tom’s relationship got the more you all hung out and you started talking to him rather than just staring from afar. You got to know him and even though you two were quite different from each other, you became good friends.
While you were a typical girls girl who enjoyed spending a little too much money on overpriced makeup palettes and listened to whatever songs were in the top list that week - Harry was a little more into old school music, bringing up bands and songs you had never heard of before. He did all his shopping at different thrift shops. He wore weird shirts and painted his nails without caring what anyone else thought while you couldn’t even leave the house without checking with all your roommates at least three times if your outfit was okay. You loved scrolling through instagram, Harry didn’t even have an account.
He was interesting, alluring and cool.
You just weren’t any of that.
You weren’t his type and he was simply just out of your league.
Until one night.
It was your friends Jax’s birthday and there had been a ridiculous amount of alcohol consumed. When you told everyone you were leaving Harry stood up and annouced he’d come with you, and because everyone was so drunk, you two included, no one thought more about it.
You left the club together, Harry got an uber and when it stopped outside your house he got out with you.
Kisses where shared and clothes came off and the next day you thought you were still sleeping when you woke up next to him. There was no awkwardness as you shared a cup of tea and he made a full english breakfast to cure your hangovers.
And then the two of you did the same thing again next weekend and it kinda just became a thing. That was three months ago now and it was still nothing you really talked about. Which was fine; you didn’t really want to talk about it. Because what were you supposed to say? Whatever was going on was working and you didn’t want to complicate things.
You were fine with just waking up next to him every now and again, especially now when the nights were getting colder and darker. It was just nice to have a warm body to snuggle up to.
It was an agreement that worked well for both of you, even if you did fancy him a little it wasn’t a full blown crush and Harry kept calling you his friend so that’s what you also settled on calling yourself. You knew you weren’t the type of girl he usually went for and that made it easier to keep your feelings for him platonic. He was too cool for you anyway.
This way you just didn’t have to swipe through tinder or chat some random guy up at the bar to get laid.
Louisa kept warning you that you were going to get your heart broken but you reassured her that no such thing was going to happen. It was just sex. Amazing sex. He made you feel like no other man ever had. Harry knew just how to work you and it made you lose your breath every single time. Your whole body was on fire anytime he touched you.
“What time is it?”
Harry’s sleepy voice startled you and his body vibrated against yours under the duvet as he chuckled. His arm was slung over you loosely and you could feel his breath on the back of your neck, leaving goosebumps all over your skin.
“I dunno,” you whispered back and leaned into his touch a little more. The hair on his legs tickled your smoother ones and his skin was clammy against yours. But neither of you made any effort to move away from each other. It was early still, the sun barely shining through the blinds in Harry’s bedroom.
“Hm,” he hummed and tightened his grip a little. “Can’t sleep?”
“Just thinking. “
“About...?”
“Nothing really.”
Harry hummed again but didn’t say anything else. You laid in silence while Harry stroked his thumb over your stomach gently. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. Just the two of you, tangled in each other’s naked bodies and the sheets. You could feel a hangover coming over you slowly. Your head felt heavy, throbbing painfully against the soft pillows under you. There was a glass of water on the bedside table tempting you but reaching out for it meant moving away from Harry and you were just way too comfortable to do so.
It wasn’t long until Harry’s soft snores filled the room again and his thumb stilled. You sighed deeply, sleep creeping over you too. You were friends. Friends that slept together and cuddled. Nothing else. Just friends.
... but you really could stay like this forever.
-----------------------------
Sooo basically, like I said. This is just the start of something I’ve been writing and I just want to know what people think of it. I feel a bit rusty writing, so understand if it’s a bit weird haha BUT I appreciate anyone who took their time reading it. Thank you. And if someone wants to let me know their thoughts or have any ideas of what to change, please send me a message. Like anything is appreciated. Thanks <3
ps i know there’s probably a few spelling errors in there. like i said, i’m a bit rusty, sorry!
#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles writing#harry#harry styles#harry styles concept#harry styles au#my writing#fanfic#harry styles x you#hs writing#writing#harry styles one shot#harry styles fic
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@ha-larry-us and @livqueer tagged me to do this! Here we go :)
1. what is the colour of your hairbrush? light amber wood color
2. a food you never eat? beets, tho i keep trying
3. are you typically too warm or too cold? neither, usually my body regulates temp well. but being sick that’s a little different and i never know if i’ll be shivering or having a hot flash
4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago? going back and forth between instagram and tumblr
5. what is your favourite candy bar? uhh maybe a snickers or a 100 grand bar
6. have you ever been to a professional sports event? i went to the Oakland A’s gay day a few years ago with co-workers. It was really fun!! but i could never attend a serious sports event to cheer for a winning team.
7. what is the last thing you said out loud? "come on, ding dong, you can do it” --said to my dog who was hesitating jumping down off the chair where she’d sat while i washed my dishes
8. what is your favourite ice cream? McConnell’s salted caramel and chocolate flake. or anything that’s a mascarpone or goat cheese base. yum.
9. what was the last thing you had to drink? decaf yorkshire with milk
10. do you like your wallet? YES! i have a scarf that has a secret pocket in it! it holds cards and other small essentials and it’s very sneaky.
11. what was the last thing you ate? granola with milk
12. did you buy any new clothes last weekend? nah bruh i haven’t bought new clothes in ages!
13. the last sporting event you watched? i watched the last season of GLOW when it came out. that’s as close as i get.
14. what is your favourite flavour of popcorn? chicago mix babyyyy! cheddar and caramel together at last.
15. who is the last person you sent a text message to? my housemate, it was the landlord’s contact info
16. ever go camping? YES, and i miss it!! i used to camp regularly and really love my pseudo-glamping life: cooler full of good food, a double high air mattress, and a tent that allows you to stand up in the center (to change clothes). i haven’t gone since coming to california, which is a total bummer.
17. do you take vitamins? yes, vit. D and fish oil daily, ideally i would have a good multi, PS, and maybe a couple other things, but i can’t afford them all right now. my minimum is a D though, since yr body really does NOT get it from sun exposure. i know it sounds silly but vitamins are basically the concrete you pour in a hole to stabilize a beam (yr food). they’re very good and they help a lot!
18. do you go to church every sunday? NO, thank goodness! i even stopped having to go with my family when i visit them.
19. do you have a tan? no, and i rarely do. SPF all the way.
20. do you prefer Chinese food or pizza? pizza please
21. do you drink your soda with a straw? only fountain sodas with ice
22. what colour socks do you usually wear? bright/mixed colors
23. do you ever drive above the speed limit? occasionally, but i’m pretty careful and definitely don’t do it in residential areas.
24. what terrifies you? zombies (seriously) and loss/lack of control of myself
25. look to your left, what do you see? the side of the couch and the blank wall.
26. what chore do you hate? doing the dishes
27. what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? the crocodile hunter
28. what’s your favourite soda? cherry coke or dublin dr. pepper (the cane sugar kind made in texas) orrrr cheerwine
29. do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? i drive thru everywhere except in-n-out, where it often takes less time to walk in.
30. who’s the last person you talked to? my housemate and i had a little conversation, but i messaged with my bff earlier and that was a real conversation.
31. favourite cut of beef? umm i really like cooking a ny strip, but i don’t necessarily have a favorite
32. last song you listened to? "fancy” as sung by bobbie gentry bc instagram didn’t have the reba version. WHICH IS UNACCEPTABLE, just so you know.
33. last book you read? my friends, i have a confession. i haven’t read an actual book in ages. i used to read A LOT and then when i got sick it was like my brain said NO THANK YOU and i just stopped. i still read loads, it’s just mostly fic or articles. that being said, i just finished i must admit i thought i’d like to make you mine by @disgruntledkittenface and it was EXCELLENT.
34. favourite day of the week? Thursdays. like for as long as i can remember. it was hamburger day when i was a kid, and now it’s thursday hersday. and of course it was must see tv night all thru my adolescence.
35. can you say the alphabet backwards? i mean i probably could but why would i want to?
36. how do you like your coffee? with whole milk (and if i’m doing it myself, a little cinnamon, a pinch of salt, and a pinch of sugar)
37. favourite pair of shoes? my dog face flats (they’re bob’s for dogs, you can maybe google them) even tho they are really worn out now
38. at what time do you normally go to bed? between 4-7am. i am a cryptid, please do not look at me
39. at what time do you normally get up? between 2-5pm, again i beg you to look away and judge me not
40. what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? sunsets!! (SAME!!)
41. how many blankets are on your bed? 4 right now. 2 super soft, 1 electric, and 1 duvet/comforter.
42. describe your kitchen plates? the classic 70s/80s unbreakable plates, some with the gold flowers around the rim and some with the tiny olive green ones. truly i think i have only seen a plate like this break once in my entire life. i bought these at a store in nyc (i definitely overpaid BUT it was still like $20 for 6 or 8 plates that will never break)
43. do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage? a properly made sidecar is HEAVEN, ok? so good!! but you gotta use good brandy and fresh lemons and i would get one if i could go back to my fave nyc bar and have pietro (a very good bartender) make me one. but really the thing that i will always want and have difficulty turning down is champagne/sparkling wine in the style of champagne.
44. do you play cards? yes! i used to play all the time with my ex. don’t so much any more but i still love it when i get to!
45. what colour is your car? dark orange
46. can you change a tire? YES!! @ha-larry-us when the quarantine is done I will show you!! it really isn’t too hard unless your bolts are on super tight.
47. what is your favourite state/province? California, i think. though part of me wants to name a southern state because I was born there and the mountains feel like home.
48. favourite job you’ve ever had? the one i currently have but am physically unable to work at right now-- cheesemonger at a worker owned grocery store
49. how did you get your biggest scar? i was borrowing stage makeup from a friend in another dorm before our choir performance. the door was usually propped open, and so when i left the building i sorta jogged down the steps and pushed really hard on the door with my momentum. it was NOT propped open, and I put my right arm through the glass (and knocked out two more panes with my knee and foot). the RA was training to be an EMT and helped me get cleaned up. I didn’t get stitches, but the scar is very long (maybe 3 inches). the best part of the story is that i went to make sure the choir director knew i wasn’t performing but would sit in the audience, and her response was “we don’t have time to give you sympathy.” she was having a rough year but DAMN that was an ice cold response to an injured 18 year old.
50. what did you do today that made someone else happy? hmm probably just chatting with my bff. that makes both of us happy, always.
IDK WHO TO TAG!!! who is the sort of person to answer 50 random questions?? @alienfuckeronmain maybe? how about @slowdownsugar? hmm maybe @crinkle-eyed-boo and uhh @pompomoffinland. And you, friend!! YOU who is sitting there really wishing you were tagged, I am definitely tagging you!!
#about me#50 questions#text post#long post#alcohol mention#injury mention#this took me back to the old livejournal days
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