Crybaby Part 3.

Crybaby part 3.

pairing: Bakugou X Fem Reader

Summary: With the bills piling up and no way to know when you will be able to return to work. Your roommate suggests you take a call center job where you can work from home. The job? being an anonymous person for Pro Heroes to vent to.

But no amount of training could prepare you for just how quickly your first caller makes you cry.

Genre: Strangers to lovers, Pro Hero AU

Wordcount: 19.4 k Part 3/6 (this chapter 6.3k)

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4: 1/2023

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

(If you would like to be added to the tag list, please leave me a comment so I know to tag you next update♥)

Also posted on AO3 (most of my work is hanging out there♥ please check it out!)

use of pet names, cursing, and more sassiness! A little dumb flirting, and mild, very mild spice. Things are finally heating up. jealousy? heavy flirting, but reader just can't accept it.

It took almost a week before you were able to make it back home.

A week left of nothing to do, and nowhere to really go. Put up in a fancy hotel, that lost its shine and glamor the longer you were there. While it was nice the first couple of days, you grew more bored than you ever imagined you could. All that the two of you could manage to do was idly go out and explore shops, mostly just window shopping. But even looking into the expensive department stores and fancy little candy shops. Grew old after a while.

Both your roommate and yourself were off for the week. Since neither of you had access to the required tools to do your job. your boss told you that you could have the time off. Still paid of course, since you were technically involved in a villain attack.

But the entire week you spent longing to get back to your job.

And no it wasn't because a certain loudmouth hero hadn't called you like he said he would either. You still weren't worried about the fact that he may have lied to you and never went to the hospital. That he hadn’t been stubborn and was left to bleed out on the floor of his office. And no you definitely weren't upset at the fact he told you he would call you. And you still hadn't heard anything from him.

Nope, not you.

So when you and your roommate were finally able to go back home. You felt a flood of relief take you as you unlock your door and stepped inside. All the glass and dirt had been cleaned up. A brand new sliding glass door and windows installed in every room. Your property management was quick to apologize. For not having impact-resistant windows and doors installed before you moved in. and delayed the date your rent was due, as a way to apologize.

Using your new scooter you found it a bit difficult to push it across the beige carpet of the living room. What was once your favorite thing about this place was now turning out to be a nightmare to roll across. Opening your door and letting you see your bedroom. It looked almost the exact same way you left it, it just cleaned up. The new window lets the evening sunshine as it set beyond the scope of the tall skyscrapers of the city.

But your bed?

Oh, you beeline straight for it. Almost throwing yourself into the well-worn comforter and sheets. Leaving your scooter behind you spread out. Your limbs stretch to the far corners of the bed laying your head face first into the mattress. As old as your bed was, and as much as you liked to complain about how bad it made your back feel sometimes. You felt comforted by being back in your own space. Soft warm blankets, that had been waiting just for you to crawl back into them and sleep the day away.

It felt so nice to finally be back home, even if it wasn’t big or shiny, this was your little slice of paradise. Carefully crafted. To include all of your little trinkets and things you have collected over the years. You didn’t even realize that you missed it until you couldn’t look at them every day.

You turn your head to the side and just take a moment to breathe. Pulling up your still injured hand you trace the line of stitches on your hand. The doctor told you that you would have to keep them for two weeks. And then come to see him so they could remove what didn’t fall out on their own. The palm of your hand was still tender to the touch, but you could see the start of its healing. A tight pink line ran across your palm, forcing the new skin to stay together. It was ugly and bright against the expanse of your skin.

But it was just a hand, nobody would see that scar.

But it still bothered you to know that you were going to be left with a reminder of your carelessness. That scar still brings back the thought of your mystery hero, and where he was. Maybe he too was getting his own set of scars from fighting a villain.

You hated to admit that you got your hopes up that he would call you the next day. It was stupid on your part when you believed him when he said he would call you later. He was a busy man, there was no reason why he would waste his time talking to you, especially if he had a job to do. But still, the last conversation you had with him, had you yearning to hear his loud and angry voice once again.

You were madder with yourself for getting upset than anything else. He didn’t owe you anything, especially a phone call. But you still found excuse after excuse on why you should be mad at him.

But with going back to work tomorrow you silently hoped in the back of your mind that he would call you. You didn’t even care if he waited until you had a minute left of your day. You just wanted to hear his voice, and make sure he was alive.

The rest of your night was spent, checking out your room, and awkwardly taking a shower. It was always so hard to stand with your foot in a cast, but you were thankful for the doctor who wrapped your foot. He was able to use a hybrid-type cast that you were able to get wet. So taking a shower was easier than with a traditional one. But you still couldn’t put a lot of pressure on the appendage.

You managed the best you could, holding on to the shower wall, and using your good hand to wash your hair and body. Taking extra care to start up your skincare routine. And change into the most comfortable pajamas that you owned. Which really just meant that you wore panties and a tank top. Your roommate was nice enough between catching up on her work emails and making phone calls. To order some takeout.

And you sat in your bed enjoying the small spread of food. Idly playing on your phone, wrapped up in your sheets. And for the first time in forever, you decide to turn on the tv. Letting it idly play in the background of your room. Until you let that little intrusive thought cross your mind. Maybe you should turn on the news and see what’s happening in the world. Maybe see if there were any tracks or big fights that happened this week that you should be privy to.

It definitely wasn’t because you wanted to check and see if your mystery hero had made the news.

Not that you would be able to tell if he had or not. You didn’t know what he looked like, what his hero name was, or even his real name. But still, the thought lingered until you couldn’t fight it off anymore. Grabbing your remote and flipping the channel to the local news. You watch as the two anchors give short replays of the events of the week. Mostly about how a school of kids had been attacked, but heroes were there to save the day.

Smiling faces of children and crying parents played along your flatscreen. And you went back to playing on your phone, convinced that you didn’t care about what was playing on the television. Focused on the clicker game you were tapping away at on your phone. Half ready for bed, a tired yawn leaves you as you endlessly tap your phone. Until you hear the soft knocking of your roommate gently tapping at your door. Before she cracks it open sticking her head inside.

“I know it’s late, but apparently he has been calling nonstop!” she says, forcing you to pull your attention away from your phone to look at her. “He’s on the phone asking for you.”

“Who?” You ask, trying not to sound too hopeful.

But you knew immediately who she was referring to. The same gruff asshole that you had been longing to talk to all week.

“Him,” She says. “Boss said she will pay extra if you talk to him now, just make sure that you send her over the time stamps for the call.”

Immediately you perk up at that. You didn’t even care that you were going to get more money for taking the call so late at night. But you didn’t want to let your roommate know that.

“I guess,” you say casually, even though it felt like you had to stop your heart from pounding away in your chest.

“Ok, I'm gonna patch him to your cell, so you can stay in bed,” She says with a sly smirk.

There was no way that you couldn’t tell your roommate about the last call you had with him. About how he was being sarcastic but still sincere in his own way. You retold the entire story to her as she sat on the toilet seat in the bathroom while you took a shower. And she laughed when she told you that you had a major crush on the scaly lizard pro hero who kept calling. The running joke now had her also pointing out every little lizard and gecko. That the two of you came across in every store you went to. And it made you laugh but it still made you yearn just that much harder to hear his voice once again.

She shuts your door and not even thirty seconds later, your phone screen lights up with a call. A private number phone vibrates the phone in your hand.

“Do you even know how fuckin’ long I’ve been trying to get a hold of you?” He growls out as you answer the phone.

He didn’t bother to greet you as a normal person would. But even when he sounded angry, you couldn’t help but feel relief as he talked. And you can hear him take a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds before he let it out. Like he was working up himself in order to keep himself calm. Silence fills the line as you wait with bated breath on what he has to say.

“You can’t just disappear like that,” He says after a moment, his voice losing its harsh tone. “They kept giving me some bullshit about you being gone." He grumbles into the phone.

It was endearing that he had tried to at least tried to contact you. But you had no access to anything to be able to talk to him.

"They gave us the week off because of the whole being shacked up in a hotel. We can't exactly do our job with no way for people to call us."

"Then how the hell did I talk to you while you were on the train?" His gruff voice snaps.

"They patched you over to my cell." You giggle.

"They coulda done that again."

“If I didn’t know better I would say you might have missed me.”

And you couldn’t help but laugh when the offended huff leaves his mouth. Traveling through the speaker and into your ear. It was just cute how he claimed that he didn’t care, but he was up in arms about not being able to talk to you.

“Whatever.” He finally answers.

But something about the way he said it made your heart jump. It wasn’t full of the anger and rough attitude you have become accustomed to hearing from him. It was softer, quieter.

“I guess I could forgive you for not calling me for a week. I was worried you know!” You say after a couple of seconds letting the laughter die down in your voice.

You couldn’t stay mad at him for something out of his control. He didn’t know that your boss was letting you have the week off and you would be unreachable. And he had put in the effort to try and contact you. The thought made your already jumbled stomach flutter more.

“Don’t try and guilt trip me, I tried.” He barks, but it still doesn’t carry the bite of his normal voice.

"Who would I be if I didn't give you a hard time?" You laugh Into the phone.

It hits you just then how much you actually missed hearing his voice. The way he spoke was harsh and loud, but when he was talking like this. All soft and normal it made your stomach flutter.

You wouldn't dare admit it to him. But you have come to terms with the fact that you may have a little bit of a crush on your mystery man. And it was this exact reason why you had such strict rules you had to follow when talking to him.

They didn't want you to become attached to your callers. They didn't want the anonymity of their business to be put in jeopardy. Because one person couldn't keep things professional. But you couldn't exactly make yourself keep to the rules.

You wanted him to bother you, it didn't matter how late it was. You wanted him to call you and gripe, even if it meant that you had to break a few rules now to keep him around. It was selfish on your part. Stringing him along like this. Because once your leg was healed you would go back to your normal job, and he would lose interest.

Besides the distance you knew had to be between the two of you. There was also the fact that you were a social outcast. Quirkless and once he found that out he would drop you like a bad habit. Just like everyone else did. You didn’t have the luxury of being careless anymore, your heart was sealed off from love for a long time.

Nobody wanted to be friends with a quirkless girl, history proved that to you.

"What's wrong?" You hear him ask if you didn't know him better sounding like he was concerned.

"What?" You ask softly, pulling yourself from your spiraling thoughts. "I didn't hear you."

"You stopped that giggling and shit, so what's wrong?"

"Ever perceptive there hero." You quip. "It's nothing, I think I'm just tired."

You lie through your teeth. But what you were thinking about wasn't anything he needed to know. You also didn't want to tell him about your woes either. He called you to vent, not the other way around. You were here to listen, you weren't supposed to be thinking what you were.

You were already crossing a line.

"I think you're a lair princess."

Either you really were a bad liar, or this guy was just way too perceptive.

“I’m fine, it's just been a long week.” You lie again, but hopefully, it would sound convincing enough for him to drop the subject.

“Being laid up in a hotel too rough on you?” he asks with that sarcastic tone you know so well. “The room service and VIP treatment weren’t to your satisfaction?”

You laugh before you can help yourself. It was a small giggle really, but even with his words, you could tell he wasn’t being mean. It was his way of trying to be playful.

“Can you believe that we didn’t get room service?” You ask mock offended. “We were forced to go out and find our own food! They treated us like common peasants!”

You wave your hand around for emphasis, even though you were the only one who could see it. But it worked, he laughed with you. Deep and rumbly as it traveled through from his side of the line into yours. The familiar fire in your stomach sparks to life at the sound. You can feel your face heat up as well. And again you have to mentally slap yourself for letting something as dumb as a laugh cause you to react like this.

“We will just have to up your hotel accommodations. Next time you wanna stick your face in a window during a villain attack.” He snickers.

“No thanks, I think I learned my lesson with the last one.” You sigh. “Besides I need to leave the heroes to do their work. I don’t want any more flying lessons.”

You lay back in bed, with a smile on your face. Now that you had some time to get over the initial embarrassment of the incident. You could finally have a playful conversation about it. Of course, it helped that you had your residential smartass to talk to.

As the line falls silent, you let your eyes glance at the tv, the news anchor talking about the latest story of the day. It was the same story from when you first switched over to the channel. The one about the school full of children being saved. But this time you happen to see two familiar faces pop up on the screen. A small gasp left your lips at the realization.

“What’s going on?” He asks.

“Oh, I uh left the tv on the news and I just saw the guy who rescued me! And the other one who busted our windows.”

“The one with the fat ass? What’d they do?” He asks but you could hear what you can only assume is a tinge of jealousy in his voice.

“Looks like they saved an elementary school full of kids.” You say innocently. Squinting slightly to read the headline as it played across the bottom of the screen. “No casualties,” you add.

“Who are they?” He asks, and you could hear rustling around on his side of the phone.

“I can’t tell you that.” You chide.

“If it’s on the news, then it’s public information princess.”

God, he really needed to stop calling you that. You had to fight against every piece of yourself to stop from just blabbering their names. As they played under their pictures.

"Your dead set on getting me fired, I know it." You groan into the line.

"Just read me the headline then." He chuckles in your ear.

"Pro heroes Deku and Dynamight save a schoolhouse from a metal villain." You read in a hushed tone.

Like being quiet about what you were saying was going to make it easier. For you to further break the strict rules of your contract. But still, he was right in the technical sense. You weren’t breaking any rules the company that paid you set in stone. You were just innocently reading your mystery man a headline from the news. He could just as easily be watching the same local channel you were right?

Complete coincidence.

But he was silent on your end. No witty comeback, or smart-ass reply. But you could hear his breathing pick up as the silence continued.

“Which one saved you?” He asked, but his voice wavered ever so slightly.

It was like he knew something you didn’t, and you did not enjoy that feeling at all.

“The green-haired one,” You say softly.

You didn’t say his name, for your own reasons. But from what you understood from the news that these two were some kind of god-like duo. Working together since their high school days. It was kinda dumb how you didn’t realize sooner. That you had been witness to the number one and number two pros in the country fight right on your street.

“Course he fuckin did.” He grumbles into the phone, and you can hear more rustling going on on his end of the line. Like he was doing the same thing you were, just laying in bed having a conversation with someone.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, adjusting yourself further into your bed.

You continue to watch the tv as it plays more of an interview with the green-haired hero. Smiling and happy as he talked to a reporter. He was cute, you had to give him that. With his curly mess of hair and freckled face. It wouldn’t be far out of the scope to say that he was attractive, but not for you.

Instead, your eyes wander to the background as the other hero stomps his way over to his partner.

They were massive, you had seen that firsthand. But the ashy blonde that stormed up to his friend and leaned in to whisper in his ear had all your attention. His sharp red eyes were hidden behind a black mask.

You had to give it to technology these days. The definition was so good you could see the flecks of dirt and soot that lingered around his face and in his hair. And the way his hero suit clung to each and every curve of his well-defined muscles. The tightness leaves little to the imagination. Your eyes can’t help but take in the broadness of his shoulders, and how his arms flexed as his arms swayed. All the way down to where his belt sat snugly around his slim waist.

God, if only you had been more focused on looking at him instead of that fight when he was right in front of you. He was beyond pretty, even with the sour look on his face, his gums showing as the reporter asked him a question. His mouth pulled up in a snarl as he turned his head and walked away.

But you were right about him having a fat ass. Oh my god, at least you got to see that in person.

“You fall asleep or something?” He barks into the phone.

His rough voice was more than enough to finally break the trance the Blonde on the tv had on you. Physically shaking your head slightly you focus back on your phone call.

“I’m sorry.” You manage to get out. “I got distracted,” You muttered the last part like it would make the heat in your cheeks feel less hot.

“D’you see something you liked?” He asks almost sounding hopeful.

But with the way, the thought entered your brain of maybe the roles being changed around. What if That man had been the one who climb through your busted sliding glass door and flew you down to the ground? Would he have been nice about it? Or would he be grumpy like he was on the television? He was a hero, so he would have to have some kind of bedside manner right?

“Do you know those two?” You ask, with not-so-innocent intentions flooding your mind.

Look you were only human, it was normal to have daydreams about being rescued by big muscular men. Playing out the trope of being a damsel in distress. Waiting with bated breath for your prince to rescue you. To take you away to some magical place where you were free to fall in love.

“You could say that,” He says with a bit of a smirk in his voice. “Why?”

And you could tell he was enjoying himself a little too much from the way he spoke. His voice dripped with something you hadn’t had the chance yet to pick apart. Teasing, but something more lingering just under it? Your head was still playing back the fantasy your mind had cooked up. Only pushing you further into your heart rate picking up, and feeling hot all of a sudden. So much so that you sling the covers from your body in an attempt to cool yourself, not that it did you much good.

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” You say embarrassed.

And he has the audacity to fucking laugh at you.

“You liked that green-haired nerd didn’t you?” He accuses you over the line. “Or do you have a thing for blondes?”

“Oh my god, we are not about to talk about this on a work call!” You squeak and fight the urge to hide your face in your pillow.

“Then give me your number and I’ll call you.” He suggests. “I’ll give you all the juicy details you wanna know.”

Oh, he was trying to get you to break the rules for him. And he wasn't even being coy about it either. It wasn't going to be his job on the chopping block if your boss found out about this.

“I will not,” You say simply, pulling your face from your phone, ready to hang up on him.

He growls into the line, even with your phone away from your ear. Hearing something so primal comes from your mystery man. Was more than enough to rattle something deep within your stomach. Sending butterflies soaring around your insides.

“I’m not doing this shit again, give me your number!” He barks.

“I can’t, I’ll get fi-”

“Fired, yeah I fuckin’ know.” He cuts you off to finish your sentence.

And before you even have to chance to talk he starts rambling off a list of numbers to you. Slowing down and repeating them once he realizes that you weren’t writing them down. Quickly as you can you pull out your little notebook and make him start over again, writing the numbers. He promptly hangs up after he makes sure you have all the digits written down.

You can't help but be a little taken aback by what you are looking at. It was clearly a phone number, and you had a minute to process the entire five-minute conversation. He had given you his number and expected you to call him. But you couldn’t make yourself. This was crossing so many lines, and the last thing you needed was to lose your job all because you wanted to talk to him.

But with shaky hands, you type the number into your phone and press the call button. When the call started it only got three rings in before you can hear his gruff voice on either end.

“Before you even start bitchin', you didn’t break any rules,” He says roughly. “I gave you my number.”

It was like he knew you were panicky over calling him. Which was sweet, even if he was pushing the limits. He was doing just enough to stay teetering on the line of what would keep you safe.

“I just can’t afford to get fired,” You say softly.

“Listen you fucking crybaby, if you get fired I’ll just pay your bills till you go back to your old job or whatever.”

You don’t know if it was still the sinful thoughts lingering in your mind. Or your own stupid brain working against you. but you can’t keep the words from flowing out of your mouth.

“I could enjoy having a sugar daddy.”

In your mind, you said it innocently enough. But you could hear the absolute sin that was dripping from your tone as soon as the words slipped past your lips. Almost shocking yourself as the sentence marinated in the air. Gently flowing from your end of the line and going right into his waiting ear. You had zero business sounding like that. Especially when it was another hero That caused this type of reaction out of you. It wasn’t fair to the man you were on the phone with to let your sluttiness be known while he was the one here talking to you.

“I bet you could.”

And by all things holy in this world he let his voice drop lower than you ever expected it to go. You could physically feel the chill that ran down your spine. As his voice caused your body to be engulfed in flames. It felt like warm honey was running through your veins. Fuck, he did that on purpose. He was matching your energy, and you could not take it.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” you try and backtrack. Trying to sound less seductive, but it still sounded flustered.

“That’s a shame,” He tsks into the phone. “Now tell me which one of those two idiots stole your attention away from the most important hero in your life?”

You were simply going to melt into a puddle on the bed if he kept up that conceding attitude. You Could not handle feeling this flustered. The added risk of him somehow holding this conversation against you later on. As some type of blackmail made you clench your thighs together.

All you could do was sputter and stumble out your words, nothing coherent coming out. You at one point even stopped and took a deep breath, but your words were still failing you for a moment. Even as he darkly chuckled into the phone. Thoroughly enjoying the torment you were going through.

“The nice one!” You lie.

It was the biggest, fattest lie you could muster given the circumstances. He didn’t need to know that you were lusting after the current number two pro. He definitely didn’t need to know that it was his pretty face. And bulging muscles that kept playing through your mind.

Your nice hero Deku was completely forgotten. In exchange for the snarling blonde still playing on the tv.

"Liar." He teases. "You like 'em mean."

"I do not." You try to keep the nervous laughter in your voice from making its presence known. But your voice betrays you when it cracks a little.

"You wouldn't keep taking my calls if you liked nice guys."

He said it was such confidence that you even believed him. Although you suppose he had a point, even so, you would never admit that to him. This was still a pro, completely unattainable as far as you were concerned. If it weren't for your job this guy wouldn't give you the time of day to even talk to him.

But still, it was a nice little fantasy you had going on.

"I have to take those calls." You remind him.

"Yeah? Well, what about this one?" He coos.

He had you there, completely.

"Courtesy call. Just to let you know this won't be happening again."

"Nah, you're gonna keep taking 'em." He says with a low rumble in his chest. "Wanna know how I know?"

"You don't." interjecting his point.

"Because as much as you wanna act like a brat, I think you like being a good girl more."

He was right, and yet again you were left unable to process much of anything. This entire conversation has spiraled out of your control. And left you feeling like you were teetering on the edge of something unknown, scary even. But holy hell, why did you enjoy the things he was saying to you?

"You can't say stuff like that!" You whisper harshly.

You roll onto your side, and pull your cover half up your body, shielding yourself from no one but yourself. But it made you feel less vulnerable when you had this man calling you names like he was. Everything from your original crybaby, to now good girl. This man was pushing all of the right buttons to keep you flustered.

"And why not princess?"

And there was the other one. Such a simple little term really. But you couldn’t stop your body from reacting to the way he said it. Deep baritone voice, laced with every intention to make you squirm around in your bed. You clench your thighs together again. Just to relieve some of the building tension you felt growing in your lower body.

"Cause you can't just accidentally flirt with people!" You scold him, still more embarrassed for yourself.

You couldn’t force yourself to come to terms with the fact he may have been so suggestive on purpose. It had to be an accident on his part. Nobody flirted with you, even on those long nights spent at the club you worked at. Drunken bodies weave together under the neon lights and strong bass of the speakers.

It was one of your favorite things to watch at work. When people finally started to let loose and feel the music. When they would grow bold enough to grab the hand of that friend or stranger. Who had been eyeing them the entire night.

Dragging them to the dancefloor and sensually dancing with each other. Sometimes they didn’t even get through an entire song before they would be attacking each other. Tongues darting out to taste the remains of alcohol still on their lover's lips. Hands traveling under shirts and skirts to grab handfuls of thighs and hips.

You always wondered what it would be like to have that in your life. A spur of the moment romance, even if just for the night. To have someone want you with the same messy passion as you witnessed time and time again.

"I'm a hero, I don't do anything by accident." He cockily reminds you.

“You don’t even know who I am or what I look like!” You try to counter his suggestion. “I could have four arms and be purple for all you know.”

“I know more than you give me credit for.” He chuckles like he already knew everything there was to know about you. “But I’ll back off if you want me to. Don’t need ya cryin’ on me again.”

“It’s late, I really need to go to bed.” You try your best to divert the situation.

It wasn’t going to quiver the aching you now felt in the apex of your thighs. But you needed to have a moment to breathe once again. And keeping him on the line was going to do nothing but make your break. You were only about two seconds away from throwing everything to the wind. And letting him have anything he wanted from you as it was. And like a fool you were still trying to cling to the hope you could keep some semblance of professionalism. Despite your call being a private one.

“You gonna be thinking of me while you fall asleep?” He asks in that same sinful tone.

Closing your eyes. You bite the tip of your thumb in hope of quieting the sound of the soft moan as it slipped past your lips. Biting harder on the pad so you can focus back on getting off the phone. Saving what little sanity you still had left.

“My roommate and I think you're a scaly lizard man,” You say dumbly, talking around your sore thumb.

That was sure to kill the mood. Compare him to a cold-blooded reptile! He would get the hint and lose any intrest in you once he found out about your joke. Hopefully, he didn't like funny girls.

“Only one way to find out,” He says.

“What does that mean?” You asked slightly panicked. Your heart pounding away in your chest now for an entirely different reason.

“Get some sleep,” He chuckles into the phone again. “Night crybaby.”

He didn’t even give you the chance to say goodbye, fuck you, no nothing before the line goes dead. And you let out a frustrated sigh before you pull your phone away from your head and throw it down on the bed. You had half the mind to call him back and yell at him for being so rude.

But you knew that was what he was probably waiting for.

For you to call him back so he could find another excuse to keep you talking to him. If you could even call it that. It was all about him talking so inappropriately and you being unable to control how your body reacted to it. It was almost like he could sense what he needed to say to turn you into a gooey mess.

But he wouldn’t win that easily. He didn’t know just how petty you could be. You could easily just go to bed and forget all about him. Block his number and carry on with your life. But you still felt that growing itch to reach for your phone and do it anyway. Already missing the way he sounded when he was getting what he wanted.

And you didn’t fight the urge for very long. Because as soon as you heard the notification for a text go off on your phone. You immediately shoot out your hand and grab the device. Quickly swipe your finger across the screen and pull up your text messages. If the picture that was just sent to you was real then you were wrong, so very fucking wrong.

He wasn’t some scaly lizard man like you joked about before.

You can’t help but let your eyes take in the sight lighting up your screen. His head was completely covered by the flash from his phone. But the sight you were blessed with just about made you pass out. The rest of his body was hard, with chiseled abs, and scars dancing along the curves of his chest and hip. All the way down to the deep V that was on display. Your eyes stopped once they reached the hem of the extremely low-sitting sweatpants. That were barely hanging from his hips. No question in your mind that he had to be bare underneath them.

You couldn’t pull your mind to focus on anything else but the photo haunting your screen. The man had a body built like a fucking deity, strong, wide, and muscular for days. Every inch of his exposed sun-kissed skin just begging to be touched. You had to force your mouth to close. Before you actually started to drool in your lap at the sight that was bestowed upon you. Only for three little dots to appear under the photo. A snarky little message appears from the unsaved number on your screen.

“Still think I’m a scaly lizard man?”.

Taglist: (I'm sorry If I missed anyone I need to set up a whole post for people who want to be tagged)

@mary-jinx, @tnqueen, @sumztrix, @hypernovaxx, @purplepotato13