#this seemed very cool four hours ago

[thestuffedalligator]

Starting an art project and I don’t know if I’m actually onto something but I’m in too deep to stop now

#norse mythology #hel goddess #alice in wonderland #conflating elements from norse myth about hel descending into niflheim with wonderland and through the looking glass #this seemed very cool four hours ago #watercolours

[ramp-it-up]

Try a Little Tenderness

Paring: Mob Boss! Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 3.7 K

Summary: Steve can’t win you with presents. He’s got to try a little tenderness.

Warnings: 18+ As always, MINORS DNI, SMUT, Lil bit of ANGST. Not Beta’d. All mistakes my own. Pining, flirting, organized crime, implied ice skating, teasing, former jerky boyfiend, inexperienced reader, nipple play, oral (both receiving) p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) breeding kink, size kink, crying during sex, violence (due to mob world).

A/N: This is for #DJ’sAllIWant4KChristmas and based on this ask.

I no longer operate a taglist. Follow @rampitupandread to be notified when I post.

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

“Good morning, Steve!”

You were stocking onions, but you looked up and smiled as the tall blond entered the store, setting off the bell. He was well built and handsome and wearing a fine wool coat with a red scarf. It was a cool December, but New York had not yet had its first big snowfall.

“Mornin’, Ambrosia,” came his gruff response. 

You kind of liked his early morning voice. And the nickname. The first time he came in, he’d picked up an apple, already biting into it but also already paying. He handed you a twenty and said, “Mmmmm, Name?”, pointing to you with the apple. Flustered, you replied with the name of the apple instead of your name and the rest was history. 

This morning, Steve smiled at you and his blue eyes were sparkling. They always sparkled when he looked at you. He seemed very sweet.

“The usual.”

You laughed and went behind the counter to wash your hands.

“Of course, already had the fixin’s set up for you.”

You started the water for the espresso and got out the fresh everything bagels you’d put aside for him. Steve was one of your best customers, coming in every morning, and several evenings. He’d been coming in for about four months now.

Steve settled at the counter and watched you prepare his food. He looked at his watch: 7:42 am. He knew you'd been at work almost two hours now and that you were working very hard. One of your braids had come undone from your bun, and he wanted to put it back, but he didn’t touch you. You wore no makeup, yet your skin always glowed, and when you looked up at him, his heart nearly stopped. 

You were naturally beautiful. And your apron did not hide your curves. Or the fact that you were wearing the same pants that you’d worn three days ago. Steve figured that you didn’t have many clothes. He had the urge to take you shopping on Madison Avenue and let you go crazy. But somehow he knew you would never blow a load of cash on clothing. And that’s part of why he was so far gone on you.

He watched you battle your espresso machine with bemusement.

“Why haven’t you set up your new machine yet?”

You stopped and put your hands on your hips, looking so cute that Steve restrained himself from jumping over the counter.

“Is that from you?” You shook your head. “I suspected it.” 

Steve had unexpectedly given you many gifts, the espresso machine, a cash register. He’d even tried to have a new walk in cooler installed. You refused and sent back everything he’d sent. It wasn’t right. He barely knew you. 

You wondered what he did for a living, always dressed in the finest and able to afford multiple thousand dollar gifts. You figured that he was one of those Angel investors. Well, he wasn’t very good at being anonymous.

You watched as Steve gave you a lopsided grin, then leaned over the counter toward him. 

“Listen. Steve. Mr. Rogers.” 

You looked from his eyes, to his perfect lips, to his golden St. Christopher’s medal. He smelled so damn good. You bit your lip and Steve smiled, warmed by your proximity. This was his chance.

“Yeah, Ambrosia?”

“I’m not taking your gifts.”

You straightened up abruptly, handed him his drinks and finished his order. You gave him two folded newspapers.

“One Daily News for your friend and one News Day for you.” 

“Have you thought about it yet?”

You raised your eyebrow at him.

“About what?”

You thought he was finally going to ask you on a date. You knew the main reason he came in was to check you out. But you weren’t about to be bought.

“About the possibility of getting The Times in here? Alright, the Sunday Times at least.”

“Sorry Steve, it doesn’t sell. If it doesn’t sell, I don’t order. Can’t afford a non starter. But I do subscribe to the Sunday Times myself for the crossword. You can borrow mine any time.”

You winked at him. Something about Steve brought out your inner flirt.

Steve wanted to say something about sharing the Sunday Times in bed, but he thought better of it. Any other girl, and he would have been able to spit all kinds of game. But with you, he was tongue tied.

Steve sipped his coffee and shook his head as you gave him his bag.

“You are the most stubborn person I have ever met.”

You waved at him as he stood up.

“Have a great day!”

Steve chuckled at your dismissal as he walked out of the door. Bucky was waiting by the car. Steve handed him his cup and sandwich. 

“Send Sam to pick up the espresso machine.”

“Still a tough nut, eh?”

“Yeah. She’s still refusing gifts…”

Steve got in the passenger seat while Bucky sat behind the wheel.

“Instead of giving her all of this expensive shit, why don’t you just be nice to her?Ask her out ice skating or something.”

Steve scoffed. He didn’t know how to ask a girl out anymore. He felt like that scrawny kid running around with Bucky back in the day. Now, women were always clawing at each other to get to him. And they always wanted something. 

Steve didn’t respond to Bucky, just asked about his calendar.

“What’s on the agenda for today, Buck?”

“We gotta meet with the truckers today. They don’t want to bend to our terms.” Steve put on his sunglasses. 

“We know what to do to make ‘em bend, don't we Buck?”

“Sure do, buddy.” 

You were in your walk up apartment above the store halfway listening to the 10 o’clock news. They were doing a story about an explosion at the Eatern Tri-State Trucking hub in Bay Ridge as you put your body oil on after your shower. The reporter indicated that authorities thought that the Valkyrie crime organization was behind it. You were zoning out looking forward to the next day.

You were glad that Janie and Nate would be back at work tomorrow. Nate had just taken a week off, and Janie had recovered from the flu.  You were going to take the next afternoon off. You could have taken the entire day, but you wanted to open up for some reason.

Running an organic bodega in Brooklyn was a tough job, but the business was growing, but it was even tougher when your help was not there. You deserved a bit of a break.

The next morning, you were humming an Otis Redding song when Steve came in. You looked over your shoulder and caught him looking at your ass.

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers.”

“Mornin’ Ambrosia.”

“The usual?”

Steve wanted to say no, I want to ask you to marry me, but that might be a little too forward.

“Yeah.”

He sat down at the counter and noticed that you had on something brand new. When you turned around, he gestured to your outfit.

“What’s the occasion?”

You looked down and then grinned. 

“This outfit is my Christmas present to myself. I’m taking the afternoon off and I’m going into the city to go to the Central Public Library.”

Steve tried to respect your glee. But he had to do it.

“How thrilling.”

“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch, “ you quipped.

Steve laughed at you. He thought about what Bucky said the day before.

“Grinch hunh. Well, would a Grinch offer to take you ice skating instead?”

You turned around and leaned on the counter. Steve leaned toward you.

“I don’t know. Are you offering, Mr. Grinch?”

You loved teasing him. Steve groaned.

“C’mon. I’m trying here. Ambrosia. Do you want to go ice skating with me in the city this afternoon? And to dinner afterward.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

Steve was very close to you now, staring at your lips.

“Yes.”

You stood up and put your hands on your hips.

“It’s about time. Sure!”

Steve laughed at how easy it was. You shoved his order into his hands.

“Pick me up at 1.”

Steve was grinning like an idiot out at the car, and didn't know how he got there.

“So you finally asked her out, hunh?”

Steve snapped out of it as he got in the passenger seat.

“Move the talks up to 10. I’m taking the afternoon off.”

“Rumlow is stalling. I can handle it this evening.”

“You sure?”

Bucky looked at his best friend.

“Sure as shootin’.”

You and Steve had a great afternoon, and Steve thought that ice skating was genius. He had to thank Bucky. You had to hold hands to stay steady, and when he pulled you in close, you didn’t pull back so you could stay warm. He didn’t know that you were thinking the same things.

Steve got to treat you to Via Carota and you two walked right in. The food was great, the wine was amazing, and you even stole a kiss in your corner booth. The night was perfect.

He drove you back to your place and you sat in the car for a minute. He’d been a perfect gentleman, and you were the one to make the first move with the kiss. You looked at him quizzicaly.

“Can I ask you something, Steve?”

“Yes, Ambrosia, anything.”

“After today, this afternoon and tonight. Do you still like me?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course. Why do you ask?”

You looked down. 

“Well, you’ve been such a gentleman. I see how you look at me, all hungry all the time. And the gifts. I don’t know. I just thought you’d be. You know. More…”

“Aggressive?” Steve responded.

“Well. yeah. I just thought.”

You looked back up and saw that Steve’s eyes had darkened.

“I am not a gentle man in my everyday life, Ambrosia. And I know that I can come on strong. But you make me want to be tender with you. I want to cherish you.”

“Oh.”

And Steve pulled you in for a sweet, but sexy kiss.

“So, yes, I still like you. And I have very aggressive thoughts about you. Want to ruin you in fact. But I want to do it carefully. Make you feel it. And make you glad you did.”

“Oh. No one has ever…damn, Steve.”

He recognized that you had been hurt.

“Here’s an aggressive question. What kind of an asshole would make you feel that way about yourself? His name is all I need.”

You laughed.

“Do you want to come up for the answer?” You cocked your head at him as he chuckled and nodded.

“Yes.”

When you got up to your place, you were settled with a glass of wine on your couch.

“I’m not going to give you his name, but I will tell you that we were together for a few months, and we only did it a few times. He’s the only one I’ve ever been with.”

The way you looked as him made Steve’s heart soft, but other things hard.

“It…It didn’t feel good. He said I was frigid and too small. I… I went to the doctor and everything. She said I was fine physically. So I figured it must have been in my mind and I haven’t been able to get out of my head after that. He broke it off and then I just decided to focus on work.”

You peered at Steve to see his reaction.

Steve’s eyes flashed with anger, then cooled.

“That joker is a fucking idiot.” 

His eyes traced your body.

“He didn’t know what to do with all this?”

Steve reached for you and kissed you, this time with undeniable passion. You broke away and stood up, offering him your hand.

“Show me, Steve.”

He stood up and followed you to your bedroom.

You stood at the foot of the bed and reached up to kiss Steve, and he picked you up and sat down, sitting you down with both of your legs over his. You made out like this, Steve’s hands still in neutral places until you whined and scooted closer to him.

Then, he went under your sweater, finding your nipple in your bra and brushing it with his thumb. He was exhibiting intense will power, but he couldn’t hold it all back as you responded to his passionate kisses.

Steve lifted your sweater off and your tank top, which was underneath, with it. Your bra contained your breasts, but your nipples were erect and straining against the material. He brought your body towards his for a kiss, his thick fingers pressing and playing with your sensitive buttons. He had you squirming on his lap as he reached around and expertly unfastened your bra.

He looked down at you and then back up, eyes hungry. You’d been yearning for that look.

“I’m gonna cherish this moment, get you ready for me, Baby. You’re gonna feel so good.”

He was weighing and kneading your breast and tenderly flicking your nipple, then he leaned down and kissed you, moving down your neck and collarbone, descending your chest and kissing all around your areolas, teasing your stiff nipples.

He had you moaning and writhing, wanting some friction for your cunt.

“Patience, Baby. You’re gonna get everything you deserve. Including this.”

Steve moved your hand to the hard member in his pants, which you tried to grip in vain through his slacks. You whimpered in frustration.

“I know. I know. I want to do so many things with you.” 

Steve’s fingers were in your leggings, through our panties and tracing your wet pussy lips gently as he finally started sucking your nipples. You pulled his hair wantonly as he teased you.

“Mmmmm. Who’s got you all wet, Ambrosia?” he asked, as he pulled his fingers out and put them in his mouth.

“Y-you, Steve… unhhhhh.”

The sight of him relishing your taste made you even wetter. And he found out, because his hand was right back down your pants. 

His lips were at your ear and he was breathing hard.

“Can I…”

His thick finger parted your lips and the rough pads of two fingers slid over your clit into your wetness. You arched your back in anticipation.

“...Can I eat you out, my sweet Ambrosia?”

His voice and the request sent you on a tailspin. You nodded vigorously as Steve pulled his hand out to your whine of desperation at the loss of contact.

You quickly stood up as Steve captured your hips to stand still in front of him. His eyes raked up and down your form as he took hold of the waistband of your pants, and slowly pulled them and your panties down your legs. You stepped out of them and Steve’s hands ran back up your form as you looked down at him. He grabbed the backs of your thighs as he pulled you near him.

Steve put one knee over his shoulder and stared at your most intimate part. 

“She’s a sweet little flower. So pretty and tight.”

His fingers were parting your folds so he could see even more.

“But she will be ready for my thick cock, I know she will, Ambrosia.”

He pulled you forward and held you up as he licked through you, almost causing a near stroke as far as you could tell. 

“Mmmmmm,” Steve’s eyes rolled back into his head.  “You are so sweet. I could eat you all night.”

You almost cried as he dove back in, grabbing his hair for purchase. He grabbed your bottom and stood to place you on the bed. He kneeled on the floor and held you down and open with his huge hands.

Steve started his feast, gently licking at first, then made you build to a crescendo as he started tongue fucking you. He made sure to stimulate your nipples, and when he felt your hard little nub vibrate, he sucked your clit hard as you came.

“Was that good?”

“Oh my stars, that was good.”

You both laughed.

“You’re so fucking cute, Ambrosia, but there’s levels to this.”

You sat up and watched as  he took off his shirt. You were sure that your eyes were sparkling now.

“It’s just going to get better and better.”

He was just clad in his black boxer briefs, a huge bulge leading the charge. He reached in and you were certain that he was going to pull out an entire pack of socks, but instead, he showed you the largest, thickest dick you’d ever seen. Your eyes were like saucers. You were a little afraid, but your legs fell open out of reflex. 

“See what you do to me?”

You bit your lip and nodded, reaching out and touching it tentatively.

“I’ve never seen one that big.”

You looked up at him and his heart melted simultaneously as his cock jumped. Your trembling fingers around him made him almost bathe your hand in his spend.

“Oh, Baby.. So sweet.”

“You are too, Steve. I want to taste you.”

You looked up at him through your lashes and Steve groaned, trembling with the effort to hold back.

“Christ… I’m…I…. Whatever you want, Baby.”

You stared at his cock for what seemed like forever. Then, you tentatively reached out and kitten licked his tip, causing him to groan as he palmed the back of your head.

“You’re killing me here, Ambrosia.”

“Hmmm.” You smiled. “Lay down for me, Steve.”

He did as he was told and put his arm behind his head to watch you. The way his muscles bulged inspired you anew. He reached down and roamed his fingers over your body as you hovered over him. You stroked him a couple of times and then played with his balls, Steve putty in your hands.

“B-babyyyy.”

You smiled in triumph that you had him whining as you spread your lips over the thick mushroom cap and sucked it into your mouth vigorously, causing him to moan and buck his hips up. You took the cue and drew him into your mouth, making him hit the back of your throat and gag.

“Holyyyyyy sssssshit. Stop. StopStopStopStop.”

Steve pulled you off his dick, which made you release him with a plop. He sat up and stared at you, disbelief in his eyes. 

“Did I do it wrong?”

“Did you do it wrong. Fuck, you almost made me…. C’mere.”

You giggled as you ended up with your back on the bed again, Steve eating you out, this time one finger inside you as you came. You were in shambles as he looked up at you and inserted another finger inside as his opposite thumb stroked your still-quivering clit.

“Gotta get you up to three. Hold on.”

You did, and when he crooked his fingers this time, you let out a wail that caused dogs to bark down the street.

After your fourth orgasm, Steve looked up, smiling ear to ear.

“Still want this dick?”

You scowled at him.

“If you don’t…”

He laughed as he kneeled between your legs, stroking the magnificent beast. You opened your legs even wider and stared down at it.

“No. look at me, look at me. You’re ready. I got you Baby.”

Steve supported himself with one arm as he got nearer to you and started swiping his head between your folds. You keened as he entered you.

“Ow. Steveeeee.”

Your face looked so adorable as you struggled to take him.

“Holy shit, you’re, fuck you’re so….”

Steve kissed you through your moan of shock and pleasure as he slid all the way home. You gripped his bicep, your fingernails leaving marks. Steve pecked your lips as you pounded together, waiting for you to get used to him.

“You ok? You good?”

Steve checked to make sure you were okay. You nodded at him with tears in your eyes.

“I- I- think it feels good. You’re so big, Steveee. But.. but I like it….”

You started moving, a little at first, and then more wantonly. Steve looked down to where you were impaled upon his dick.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You are perfect. Just so.. Fucking… tiny…. But made for me…Shit.”

You felt Steve’s cock jumping inside you when he said those words, and you clasped your hands behind his back and uttered, “More!”

And that’s when you began to get fucked. Tenderly yet filthily. It was the best Steve had ever had, trying to be gentle and knowing that he wanted to put the bed under the ground. It was such a turn on. The ragged moans that you gave him with each stroke was a gift from god, and he started cumming before he could think.

“Shit! I didn’t use a condom…Fuck. But why does that just motivate me to keep going?” 

Steve laughed into your ear as he kept stroking for dear life. He was usually so careful, knowing that most women wanted his kid. But with you he didn’t care. You wrapped your legs around him, taking the pounding he was giving you now.

“Hmmmmmm. You want me to put a baby inside you? Pump you so full of cum that you get all round and full with my seed?”

“Hnnnnghhh. Steve… I…”

“Tell me. Do you want it? You want me to get you pregnant?”

“Ohhhh shitttttttt! Steeeveeeeee!”

You detonated around him and Steve cursed, finally pulling out and jacking hard onto your stomach as three fingers on the other hand continued to fuck you through your orgasm. His pearly spend looked beautiful on your skin.

“So gorgeous. There’s time for that yet, but we gotta get you to a doctor, because I don’t want to do this too many more times. And fucking you with condoms is no longer an option.”

You were fucked out, absentmindedly playing in his cum, causing him to spurt one last rope onto your fingers. When you brought them to your mouth was when he shivered. He collapsed beside you.

“I can’t even explain how good that was.”

You just smiled at him, lips shiny with gloss that he made.

“You are an angel. A Christmas angel.”

Steve sighed as you smiled at him. He got up and went to your bathroom to clean up and get a warm towel.

“I’m hungry.”

“Anything you want, Babe. I’ll get it for you.”

You grabbed the remote and  turned on the tv, catching the tail end of the news.

“Shootout in DUMBO tonight between the Rumlow and Valkyrie crime organizations. Several high-ranking officers dead or injured, including Brock Rumlow and James Bucky Barnes. More news when we have it.”

“Steve? Bucky? What’s going on? Valkyrie?”

Steve was up and grabbing for his clothes, an inscrutable look on his face.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this, but I gotta go.” 

He gave you a quick kiss. 

“Don’t leave. Sam will come back with some food for you and he will stay with you. Don’t open the store tomorrow.”

“But Steve!”

“No buts! I will call.”

And then Steve disappeared into the night, leaving you with so many questions.

Knock that reblog button off the block fa me. 😉

Read part two, All I Want.

#dj’salliwant4kchristmas22 #Steve Rogers #mob boss steve rogers #mob boss!steve #chris evans #chris evans imagine #steve rogers smut #Steve Rogers x reader #steve rogers x black reader #chris evans smut #bucky barnes

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

CRAZY OVER YOU x MIN YOONGI

[HYBRID AU]

PART ONE

Love at first bite

Side Characters: Namjoon/doctor, Seokjin/doctor, Taehyung/Hybrid Tiger.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of blood, sharp objects, rut, beast behavior, medical experiments, meds.

Genre: Fantasy, hybrids au, smut.

SUMMARY》 Yoongi is a black mamba hybrid one of rarest species of hybrids, who’s about to be put down due to his lack of interest in living. But everything changes after the new medical assistance (y/n) takes a liking to him. Meeting after meeting he realise his feelings for her are not the only thing growing.

<< Previous Chapter. Next Chapter >>

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

My feet hurt. I’ve been running back and forth around the clinic way past my working hours already.

To be honest I think the assistants work more than the doctors, I should have gone home by now. My shift ended four hours ago. Yet i couldn’t go home.

Lately the clinic has been very busy, hybrids were coming in and out of the clinic to get treatment and the fact that so many rescued hybrids from the outside were coming, made the ones we had already been taking care of at the clinic agitated. With their higher level of hearing and smelling it was impossible to completely hide the different cents.

The world we live in is not the same anymore, we exists between hybrids. And I work in a clinic that takes care of them.

The biggest hybrid clinic in our city, is was more then just a clinic for hybrid species. It was a hospital, lab where scientific studies and research took place, and a clinic for treatments.

It was late at night when things seemed to have cooled down. I decided to drink some coffee at the cafeteria on the first floor.

Sitting down in one of the tables I put my hot coffee over it, taking the files of my patients for tomorrow morning in hand reading their appointments and preparing for it.

- yn! - I look up to see Hoseok, one of the assistants that worked on the especial cases.

- hey hobi - i greet him, he sits down in front of me looking more exausted than ever. - oh you look awful…

- don’t even tell me about it - he said - guess who was my patient today?

- no idea… - I tell him, taking a sip from my coffee.

- the snake hybrid - he said, I almost gagged in my coffee.

- no way! What is like? - i asked, the most special hybrid in our clinic was the rarest one. The black mamba hybrid.

- an asshole? - he said, I chuckled at him - no seriously, he’s so difficult to treat like he doesn’t eat because he doesn’t like the food, always complain about the people around him… and today, he bit my colleague be cause he didn’t like that way he smelled.

- he bit him? - i asked, completely amused.

- yes, he’s in the hospital by now - at his words I looked up at him worried.

- so… - before I said anything my phone start to ring. I sight tiredly - gotta go.

He only nodded understanding as I got up from my seat to leave.

- hey… - I say as I take the call. I threw the plastic cup of coffee in the trash can as I leave the cafeteria.

- boss is looking for you - he tells me. It was one of my coworkers.

- I’ll go then, thanks.

I turned off the call making my way to the elevators in the hallway. By boss he meant Seokjin, it was a nickname we all agreed on since he’s the director of the clinic. As I walked towards the elevators i kept wondering why he asked for me at this hour, Jin was usually so busy I could bearly talk to him not did I ever seen him having lunch break or any break at all. He always made sure the hybrids were well treated at the clinic and worked really hard for it.

From afar i notice Namjoon standing there in front of the elevator doors waiting for it, he was looking through some papers on his hand too focused to even notice my presence beside him.

- hey - i greet him.

- hey… - he reply, not looking my way. He had a hard expression on his features.

Once the door opened in front of us we both get in the elevator, me fallowing right after him. I press the bottom to the third floor.

- what is this? - I ask him intrigued, as he seemed completely focused on the paper to notice his surroundings.

- my new patient - he sighed now looking at me - he’s one of the rare hybrids we have and it looks like he’s going to get put down.

- what? Why? - I was genuinely surprised, rare hybrids were so special in the clinic one of them being put down could only meant one thing - is he sick?

- no - he said getting out of the elevator once the door opened at our desire floor, i fallow him - just an asshole.

- oh? - i was genuinely confused, but didn’t push him to tell me - You going to Jin’s office?

- yes - he said, lookin stressed - he called me to discuss this patient, what about you?

- He called for me but, I don’t know yet - i reply, we walked the long corridor till were finally standing in front of Seokjins office.

After nocking on the door and receiving a low “come in” from Seokjin we both made our way inside his office. Namjoon opened the door for me to get in first then he fallowed me behind, shutting the door. Jin sat on his desk, hands on his face as he covered his eyes in despair looking more tired than ever, a look i never thought I would see on his face.

- Jin you look… - he didn’t let me finish.

- I know - he sighted, now looking at us both in front of him.

- why did you called us? - Namjoon asked.

- I need your help with this rare hybrid case - He said.

Jin started walking around his desk to sit down.

- my father passed to me the responsibility of taking care of the… euthanasia of him.

- but why? - i asked.

- well… it’s been years and he never once put it in the effort to live - he said taking a few papers and giving it to me and Namjoon, the hybrid records - he’s not eating anymore, doesn’t get any heats, makes no effort on mating and doesn’t let anyone help with his shedding .

- Shedding? - i asked, so he means… the rare snake hybrid.

- yes. He’s now in your hands - Jin said, looking at me and Namjoon.

- you want us to do exactly what? - Namjoon asked - from the looks of it, doesn’t seem like we can do anything about it.

- you both will be working on this case with me, the big boss - he made a sing pointing up, signaling the higher ups, his father - found a female rare snake hybrid and he wants them to reproduce before euthanizing him.

I felt sick.

- are you kidding me?! - i said, stunted - you’re just going to… - I couldn’t even say it - after all theses years?

- I know that’s why i want you guys to work on it, - a long sigh left his lips - i only trust you both with this.

- maybe we can help him out and not put him down? - I tell him.

- believe me y/n - Jin looked at me deep in the eyes - we tried but…. Sometimes is better this way, is hard on him too.

I looked down at the papers in my hands.

Min Yoongi - snake hybrid.

Code: RED. Dangerous species. Specie: Black mamba.

Date of birth: Unknown. Male.

Current status: to be put down. Date: three months from now.

Resume: This patient needs to be prepared for a mating season as he had never had one, to ensure the precision and higher chances of reproduction of the rare hybrid species. The black mamba hybrid is to be taken care of from now to the time of mating, every side effect must be related to the one in charge of the case. To ensure assurance that this case will be dealt with assertiveness.

I felt sick.

….

I couldn’t help but think about it for the rest of the day. The fact that they would just give up on him after all these years of testing and keeping him lock up in here that he simply didn’t want to make any effort to live anymore, and how the clinic was just going to put him down not giving a single care about him for real.

They are going to end him right after they get him to reproduce, just to ensure they still have a rare hybrid of his specie. Another one to end just like him.

Looking down at the food in front of me I felt sick in my stomach at that. How could they?

- you look deep in thought - Namjoon said over me, he sat down in front of me after putting his tray of food on the table.

- sorry i just can’t stop thinking…

- about the hybrid? - he said - look I know you and I’m sure that’s why Jin chose you to assist me with this case but, let’s just make sure he at least leave in peace okay?

- okay..

No.

I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did. You don’t know me Namjoon, I’ll make sure that hybrid lives.

No matter what it takes.

- we’ll meet him later right? - i ask him, he looks at me over his lashes as he holds his phone looking at it.

- yeah, after lunch - he takes off his glasses - are you ready to see the snake hybrid for the first time?

- yeah - I wonder what he looks like, most hybrids have some feature that help identifying what kind of hybrid they are. Does the snake hybrid has scales all over him? - he shouldn’t look too scary right?

Namjoon only giggle at my question, a knowing smile growing on his lips and my mind quickly realizing it.

- Kim Namjoon! You’ve meet him already! - i stated.

- of course I did, he had an appointment at six in the morning. - he said, a sight leaving his lips - What an ass.

- why so early? - knowing Namjoon hates waking up too early, he must felt stressed. Especially having to take care of a hybrid that demands so much more care.

- His sleep circle is different… - he started - and since we are trying to get him to feel the beginning of a heat so he can mate, his room was changed to acommodate him.

- oh… - realization hits me - so it will give the illusion of his heat beginning?

- yes, we also changing the room temperature to make it happen as naturally as possible - he said - the hotter the better.

- no way… - i said - I’ll have to work in hell too?

- trust me.. it doesn’t need hot temperatures to make it hell. - Namjoon looked at me - he’s good at that on his own.

- is he that bad? - he couldn’t be… right?

- I’ll let you see it for yourself - was all Namjoon said.

After lunch Namjoon passed me the instructions of our appointment with the snake hybrid, since he wasn’t eating he had to take vitamins straight into the blood.

To be honest i felt sad at that. You don’t eat when you don’t have an appetite, is he that bad in condition to not even eat? They’ve been neglecting him for so long and now are trying to force him to mate.

More and more i questioned if what i was doing was right.

I walk beside Namjoon towards the elevators, special hybrids stay on the sixth floor so that’s where we’re headed. They need to be separated from the other hybrids as their instincts are a lot more higher and demand more care, you can’t put cat hybrid in the same place you have a wolf hybrid. So we divided the floor for special species, wild hybrids in a floor and domestic hybrids in one. Of course there’s the special cases divided by codes, the snake hybrid was a code red which meant he was dangerous. Code reds are usually the hardest one to work with because they can and will hurt their doctors and especially other hybrids. Some don’t really mind the doctor but, other hybrids. Like a lion who sees a deer. They will always see them as a pray. So we have to keep them separate.

I look in front of me over the silver tray with the meds and vitamins he must take everyday, today Jin won’t be joining us he only will when much more serious procedures are to be taking action.

Namjoon is the one with the code to the hybrid door, each hybrid had their own room to accommodate all their individual needs. The snake room wasn’t different.

As soon as the door is open a heat of hot air hits me, the room is a bit dark but the lights get brighter as we enter, Namjoon walks towards the hybrid who lays on a big bed in the center of the room. Almost looking like a nest with all the covers and pillows around it.

I make my way to the table beside the door to prepare the meds and vitamins.

- good afternoon Yoongi - Namjoon says to the hybrid - time for your meds and vitamins.

- i don’t need it…. - a deep male voice says, the hairs in the back of my neck shivering at the sound of him - who’s is that?

He meant me. My heart skipped a beat at getting his attention. He is the first special hybrid I’ve ever meet. One of the most dangerous one too.

- that’s my assistant - Namjoon tells him, he’s talking about me - everything ready y/n?

- yes Joon… - i turn to him taking the silver tray with me.

Stopping in my tracks as I take in the figure of the hybrid. He didn’t look like anything i imagined, he didn’t have weird snake eyes and not was his skin full of scales like the reptile. He looked almost human… if it wasn’t for the almost unnoticeable scales on his neck that fallowed up to his ears so delicately, as he moved his head to the side eyes locked over my figure the scales shined a bit. A color of white pearl and soft grey.

He wore something different from what I was used to see on the other hybrids, while the others wore a type of pijama white clothing he whore silk shining bottom up shirt and pants.

Realizing i wasn’t moving and just staring rudely at the hybrid I quickly made my way to Namjoon to give him the meds. My checks burning.

- no - the hybrid said looking at Namjoon with a bored expression - i don’t like the way you smell… i won’t take anything from you.

- you still need to take your vitamins - Namjoon insisted taking one of the syringe from the tray.

- i said I don’t need it - the hybrid growls, coming closer.

- your condition tells me otherwise - Namjoon said to him, both looking at each other. The temperature seemed to rise even more as they looked almost like provoking each other. A silent fight.

The hyrbrid eyes found mine staring at his, he looked at me up and down no expression on his face. Than turned to Namjoon.

- she can do it - he said, a bored expression coming back to his features.

- she’s not in charge of that - Namjoon said, a stern lock on face - I’m the one who is, so get over it.

I looked at him chocked. He seemed angry. Namjoon who usually is calm and careful with his patients was now the complete opposite, he stood his ground and faced the hybrid as if trying to prove he was the Alfa.

And for the first time I was angry at him, not only this was a delicate case. The hybrid could attack if he felt threatened. That could only worsen the situation for the hybrid.

- I can do it Joon - i tell him quietly turning to him lifting the silver tray for him to take it. I gave him a nod of assurance. He looked at me than the hybrid.

- are you sure about it y/n? - he asked me, worry over his face now.

- of course i can - i assure him - I do it all the time.

His eyes locked with mine as he talked. I heard Namjoon sighed as he turned to me taking the silver tray from my hands.

Giving him a small smile I took the vitamins syringe, the hybrid stood in front of me opening his white shirt one bottom after the other eyes locked with mine to catch my reaction, I tried not give any reactions and keep my gaze eye level but it was impossible when he stood right there exposing his beautiful skin for me.

He wasn’t covered in scales as many would’ve imagine but definitely had a few on his ribs that fallowed down to his v line, just like before they shined a bit over the light a white pearl with silver. I gulped down eyes looking back into his as he stood in front of me reveling his left arm for me to aply the syringe. His eyes never once left mine, he had eyes so dark I couldn’t tell if there was any color in them black light the night sky.

I held his arm to insert the syringe into his skin, he didn’t move at all. During the whole processe he didn’t broke the eye contact. Cleaning the small bit of blood that came after taking the syringe off his skin. Namjoon gave me the next one, i apply it into his skin once again. After the last one, I cleaned and put a small piece of medical tape over it so it doesn’t bleed.

- I’m done… - i say, standing next to Namjoon. He gave me the tray and I took it to the table beside the door.

The hybrid began to bottom up his shirt. Namjoon look it up the papers for the hybrid next appointment as I took the small white cup with he’s meds walking back to the hybrid I held the cup up for him to take. He took the cup from my hand brushing his fingers over mine, his hand looking much bigger than mine, I kept my focus on that too nervous to look up into his dark eyes again. I held the water up for him, which he took it again brushing his fingers over mine. He drank it my eyes fallowing up at his neck starring at the scales over his skin. They looked so delicate almost like a painting over his skin, closer you could see that little silver that shined over the light. Not realizing he came closer until I felt his breath hitting over my face, making me look at him immediately. Dark eyes staring into mine with boredom, he tilted his head to the side coming closer inspecting my face.

- you’re not afraid? - he whispered, only for me to hear. My breath got stuck on my throat.

- should I be?… - I whispered back, swallowing hard. He looked down at me than back into my eyes, tilting his head to the other side black orbs staring deep into mine i fallow his move tilting my head to the same side. Complete hypnotized by him.

- any changes in your shedding? - Namjoon asked the hybrid, while writing something down on the paper. - it should have started already.

At hi voice I came back to reality, turning quickly with the two cups. Taking them to the table beside the door to despose of them int he trash can.

Making my way back to stand beside Namjoon once I was done, my eyes going back to the hybrid standing in front of us.

He had the same expression as before, unbothered.

- same as always - he answered tiredly, going back to his bed.

I saw the way his plain answer made Namjoon clench his jaw. He wasn’t making any effort to cooperate with Namjoon, I notice he was difficult but not an asshole. It was painful to watch them interact, Namjoon clearly didn’t like the way the hybrid acted but, I have dealt with a few difficult hybrids before this was only a way to protect themselves after going through so much.

This behavior seemed to be common with Wild species, I’ve seen it before with a lion hybrid I took care of before.

Sometimes you just have to be persistent, and careful.

- I heard it could be painful if not taken care of, is everything alright with it? - i asked this time, which made both males look at me.

The hybrid looked at me not saying anything for a while. Than he smirked and walked towards me making Namjoon stand closer to me protectively. He looked at Namjoon smile slowly falling forming into a bored expression again, showing how the presence of the other male affected him.

- I don’t want any of your help with it - he said, eyes locked into mine - last time…

- you almost killed one of our doctors - Namjoon interrupted the hybrid, one arm closing around me to put me back.

Almost…

- he shouldn’t have touched me - the hybrid said eyes burning over Namjoon, anger on his face.

Hands closing into fists, he walked closer to us standing in front of Namjoon. He was ready to attack if needed, if something is not done it could end very badly Namjoon doesn’t notice but with this behavior he is provoking the hybrid to act instinctively.

It is clear that the heat season has started for him and in mating season hybrids tend to get more competitive and sensitive, a male showing up to his space staring dominance wouldn’t do any good.

- you both stop - i said releasing myself from Namjoon standing between them both, turning to the hybrid I said - please, Yoongi let me treat you okay?

He didn’t like when people crossed his boundaries i get that, sometimes it could be very overwhelming. But knowing what they are going to do to him because of that behavior, i just couldn’t help but get in between them. It was something we could work out and maybe if i succeed they won’t put him down anymore.

- it is important that you go through your shedding the easiest way possible - i tell him - so I’ll be in charge of it okay? How is that?

He looked at me for a while, slightly turning his head to the side. Pundering the idea in his head. For some reason he looked me up and down before looking at Namjoon behind me, a small smile making its way to his lips.

- only if is you - was all he said before going back to his bed.

A sight of relief leaving my lips, even though I cloud feel the stare of Namjoon a glare over my back.

…

To say Namjoon didn’t like that idea was an understatement. He hate it.

Insisting it was a bad idea to proceed with hybrid treatment by myself, that could be dangerous not only that but the fact that the hybrid had poison on his teeth just like a snake would. It wasn’t lethal but enough to cause discomfort, and it was what had happened the last time they tried to help with his shedding.

But that didn’t changed my mind. Not after I actually meet him, it seemed to me he didn’t want any one close that felt threatening to him. He wasn’t just any kind of hybrid, not a dog that loves attention and touch but a snake one. Snakes always acted out when feeling threatened. Attacking was their only defense.

So it made sense to me that he would be reluctant to let anyone get too close, especially after heaving so many tests on him without his consent. He’s been so mistreated and now they want to put him down.

It angers me.

I decided to chose an hour where i knew Namjoon would be busy in a meeting to do that. No long after we had left the hybrid room he began to lecture me on how dangerous Yoongi could be, that i shouldn’t act like that when he was the one in charge of this case. It slipped his mouth that the clinic simply started to give him vitamins when he stopped eating so he wouldn’t die.

It came to me how neglected he’s been this whole time. After that i decided to secretly go to the hybrid and feed him, which was where i was headed now.

I made sure no one was around once i stopped in front of the hybrid door. Using the number code I saw Namjoon used before to open the lock on it. It made a sound before opening.

The hot air hitting my face as I entered, they had turned higher this time it was hotter than before. The lights slowly began to light up as I walked in, the door closing behind me automatically.

At that the hybrid came up from his bed looking confused at me. Of course. I shouldn’t be there.

- hey - i greet him. He doesn’t say anything.

I walk up to him, stoping in front of the nest looking bed. A sing of his heat starting. That was a good sign. He held himself up with his arms looking my up from the bed.

- why are you here? - his voice was low and heavy.

- I just… - I trailed off as he fully lifted his body form his laying position, now sitting on his bed. Shirt open and sliding off his shoulders, not showing much but enough to see his scales.

He looked me over his lashes checks a bit red and sweat falling over the side of his face.

- i brought you something… - a sight left his lips - are you okay?

- yeah… what did you brought me? - his curious dark eyes following my body as I came closer.

- it’s tangerines - i say, showing him the two fruits i held in my hands.

- what’s a tangerine? - he asked eyeing them closer.

- you don’t know? - i gasped. Sitting beside him i slowly began to open one in a half giving it to him, he smelled before looking at me not knowing what to do.

- I never seen one… smells nice - he said.

- you eat it - i tell him, taking one and holding in front of his lips. He didn’t move at all, only looked at me.

For a moment I thought I had crossed his bounderies, for a moment I thought I was just being stupid. But then it came to me, he hasn’t eaten in years. He don’t even know what a tangerine is.

Maybe he didn’t even felt hunger anymore. Maybe he’ll throw the stupid fruit at me.

My checks were getting warmer as I felt nervous but, slowly he smelled the fruit in my hand taking a careful bite of it. Still looking at me, the juicy fruit spilling a bit in my fingers.

I watched him expectedly, wondering if he will like it or hated. He swallowed and looked at the fruit in my hand.

- that’s good… - he said. I sight of relief left my lips.

- you want more? - i asked him, he nodded slowly making me smile.

He didn’t move a single finger to eat though, I had to feed him the two tangerines the whole time. It didn’t bother me though, I felt so happy seeing him eat something other then taking those vitamins.

It means so much in the process of a hybrids treatment that they are feeding themselves, i couldn’t hold my happiness as I watched him.

Once he eat all of them he looked at me then at my hands, dark eyes shining under the light.

- sorry it was all I got - I tell him. - I’ll bring you more if you want.

- you will? - his eyes shining bright as he looked at me. I nodded at him.

- can i ask you… why you don’t eat? - i said, he doesn’t look at me turning to look at the floor.

- I don’t… feel like it… - he simply said.

He looked so sad now. No appetite wasn’t good. When in the absence of sickness it could only mean he was very depressed. They wanted to put him down because he was depressed.

I wouldn’t let them.

- You don’t seem to mind me around you… - I comment.

- you smell good. - he said, turning to look at me - and delicious, like tangerines.

I chuckled at his comparison. He watched me attentively, a different light on his dark eyes now.

- okay… I try my best to take care of you - i tell him. For a moment he only stares at me.

Red checks and bit of sweat on his chest, he turned his head to the side still raring at me. I fixed my glasses feeling a bit intimidated by his deep stare.

- You… - before he could end his sentence the door opened.

Namjoon entered the room looking at us confused, his eyes falling over my presence there. I shouldn’t be here. It’s what I read in his eyes.

- yn? - he asked, confusion clearly on his voice as he walked closer to where I was with the hybrid.

- Oh hey I was just… - i tried to make up an excuse but he cut me mid sentence.

- Leaving, right? - he interrupted. I swallowed nervous. He was never hard on me, hearing him be like that wasn’t nice.

- Yeah… - i murmured, taking the fruit peels with me as I got up from the hybrids bed.

- No… - Yoongi held my wrist stopping me, turned to look at him but he stared at Namjoon.

- You have an appointment with me now, it doesn’t include y/n so let her go… - for some reason Namjoons way of putting what he was doing there made me nervous.

I know he would never hurt a hybrid, but yoongi was very reluctant to any one else being too close to him. Namjoons display of dominance could make him defensive and things might not go well.

- maybe I could help - i tried to sound calm.

- y/n, your here to assist me not take over the procedures - Namjoon tells me, his words sending a sharp sting in my heart.

I couldn’t find words to reply his. Too embarrassed by his words to me in front of the hybrid, i bit into my lower lip. Not looking at them.

- Let her go yoongi - Namjoon said walking towards us.

At his words I realized Yoongi was now standing behind me, hand still around my wrist. His slow breathing hitting my shoulder. I lifted my gaze to Namjoon who now seemed a bit worried. But the hybrids closeness to me wants what made me uncomfortable.

- Yoongi… - Namjoon warned.

- Joon don’t - I tell him holding my hand up for him not to get closer - can you wait a bit?

He looked at me reluctant before nodding, still not taking his eyes off the hybrid. I turned to Yoongi slowly, a small smile on my lips as I stared into his deep dark orbs, to make sure he knew I was fine.

- Are you okay? - he asked me, I looked at him surprised. - he hurt you with his words.

I couldn’t hide my surprise at his words, he could tell from just that?

- It’s okay… I don’t care about his words - I whispered o him, giving him a small smile.

I tried to take my wrist from his hold but he didn’t let go, not to hard to hurt me. I could tell he was being careful not to use his full strength on me.

- Will you came back? - he asked, eyes looked into mine.

- Of course. - i tell him.

With that he let go of my wrist.

I turned to Namjoon taking his arm to leave the hybrid room. He reluctantly fallowed me towards the door of the room. Once we were both outside I kept my hold on his arm taking him with me around the corridor towards the elevators.

- where you taking me? - he asked, as if nothing had happened earlier.

- To Seokjin, we need to have a talk - i tell him, anger boiled over me.

- We? - he pushed his arm out of my grip - You’re being the irresponsible one not me!

- I’m!? - I stopped in the middle of the corridor, turning to him anger building up through my body.

- Yes! - he stated, closer to me - Do I need to remind you of your position here?

- Do I need to remind you of your stupid ego standing between the safety of a hybrid and your pride?! - i yell at him.

At that he went quiet.

- were talking with Seokjin now. - i state - I won’t let you make this whole processe more difficult than it has to be just because of your pride.

I held his arm again, taking him with me to the elevators. He didn’t say anything else anymore, I could tell he was angry but so was I.

The whole time he was only stating dominance over Yoongi, I was tired of them all thinking that could just hurt the hybrid even more now just because she was going to be put down.

I wouldn’t let them.

The walk to Seokjins office was quiet except for the tense energy around us, once I stood in front of his door I don’t bother to nock. Entering with anger burning under my skin.

Seokjin gave me a curious look, as he was folding some paper on his desk.

- sorry Jin - i say. He looked at me and Namjoon a questioned look on his face. - we need to talk about Yoongi.

- oh, right - he says - what is it?

- She’s being… - Namjoon started, but I interrupted him.

- Yoongi has been showing clear signs of discomfort with male doctors - at that Namjoon scoffed, I looked at him angry turning my gaze to Jin as I continued - he say he will do the appointments as long as I’m the one closer to him.

- I see.. - Jin thinks for a moment before continuing - what’s the problem?

- Namjoon is not letting me - i tell him, arms crossed over my chest.

-She just went into his room without any one knowing and… - Namjoon began.

- And gave him food - i say, looking at him. We both shared a look of hatred before Jin interrupted.

- What? - Jin asked.

- He eat… - I tell him.

- He… he eat food? - they both looked at me surprise.

- Yes, I’m sure I can help a lot more with this case if you let me take charge of the procedures that involves more… closeness to him, he’s been through a lot and seemed more calm around me.

- I see… - Jin pondered the idea first - then as long as you’re not alone for safety reasons, I don’t see a problem with you taking charge of his appointments.

- But she’s.. - Namjoon says, but is cut by Jin.

- Namjoon, y/n has been taking care of hybrids for years she knows what she’s doing, please I need you both working on this together - Jin says, sounding tired.

Namjoon only nods.

- any updates about him? - jin asked.

- i can tell that his heat i starting - I say - his behavior at least shows me that.

- okay… we’ll than we are almost there - Jin says - keep that good work and please, do this together.

- thanks jin - i tell him, he gives me a nod and i make my way to leave the office.

Namjoon stayed behind. I didn’t payed much mind to it. Quickly making my way out of there walking to the elevators, I had a lot of work to do other than Yoongi case.

More patients that needed treatment just as badly, not the he wasn’t just as special to me.

…..

It was late at night again.

I wasn’t planning to staying late again but, a hybrid was just checked in after being attacked by a another wild hybrid. The same case has happened before, that is way wild hybrids where never up for adoption. Yet some people always manage to get them, usually never for good reasons.

The poor hybrid this time was a bunny one, I was surprised when I first saw him. Usually bunny hybrids where the smallest species to exist but, this one was big. Not too tall but very muscular and strong.

When he was checked in he was still in defense mode, attacking every one and very scared. They had to apply a sedative on him to finally be able to put him on his room.

You could guess my reaction after I was told the story and short after that, Hoseok told me I was the one in charge of his case.

My shift ended hours ago and yet here I was cleaning cuts on the face of a bunny hybrid who seemed to know nothing about shutting up.

- such a pretty doctor I have.. - he said, a smile on his lips as he looked at me.

- Jungkook stop talking I’m trying to apply the med on your lip… - i tell him for the fifth time already, he only chuckled.

I sight taking a clean cotton with med to clean the cut over his eyebrow, he was sitting over his bed as I stood between his legs to clean his bruises.

He shouldn’t be awake. He was sedated before but, no long after he was wide awake and talking none stop, he commented on my but and how lucky he was to be treated by me.

I only sighted. That was knew. Usually my patients where too scared to be treated at first. So I just brushed off his comments.

Jungkook was abandoned when younger by his last owner, he then grow up in an underground fighting club where clandestine fights were held. He told me he was the best one there, a lot of people bet on him at the fights until he got in trouble with this one wolf hybrid.

- how did you end up here again? - I asked him.

- I was… - his checks went red and he looked down - to be honest I’m still.. ah, I was in heat…

- oh.. - I looked at him, still no understanding. He was shy, ears dropping beside his head.

- I was trading to mate but… so was the wolf… - he said.

- but you’re…

- she wasn’t like me… - he tells me, realizing what he meant I felt a warm wave up my checks.

Different species trying to mate, that was the first time I heard that, the underground has a lot going on than.

- well… it could happen - I say, making sure I cleaned every bruise on his face - here in the clinic we help our hybrids with all their needs, so don’t worry.

- oh.. will you treat me than doctor? - he asked, amused.

- yes, you’re my patient - i tell him, taking his file to prescribe him his medication and future exams.

- humm… - he only murmured - doctor are you in heat?

His question gets me by surprise and I look at him, mouth opening and closing. Just what was going on now? Did he perhaps hit his head too?

At my expression he chuckled one arm closing around my waist as he pulled me closer to him, I gasped feeling his nose against my neck. Not knowing what to do I held my hand up in the air, too afraid to even touch him. The smallest reaction could start something I wasn’t intending to.

- I can smell in you… - he says over my ear, my checks burning hot - hum, ready to be filled…

At his words i tried to push him, hands over his chest only to find his eyes staring deep into mine his checks where red and pupils full. It hit me. He was still on his heat.

That explains his behavior the whole time. How could I not notice earlier?

- you’re still in heat - i state. He only chuckled.

- am i? - he came closer to kiss me but i immediately pushed him down the bed - oh, I like that… doctor you’re making me fall for you…

I ignore his nonsense as I made my way to grab a sedative, bunnies were the hardest ones to deal with when on their heat, first I would have to put him to sleep before giving him the medicine to lessen his heat. At least till we are done with his treatment. Then we would put him to mate the right way.

Coming back to him I stared at him think where I would apply it, he didn’t stop moving. I stood between his legs holding the sedative behind my back.

- Jungkook… - i tried to get his attention, he looked at me immediately- I need to do something for me okay?

- yes pretty doctor- he tried to get up but I quickly held his chest down, he smiled at me. He looked as if he were on drugs, high on his heat.

It could only mean things were getting worse, he wasn’t on full rut but was getting there. It would be impossible to treat him if he’s on rut.

- don’t move okay? - i tell him, his hand held mine over his chest as he nodded.

Without him noticing i insert the syringe into his thigh, he’s so into his heat to even notice the pain.

I count ten seconds in my head before releasing my hold over his chest, he doesn’t try to get up.

- oh I’m sleepy… - he says, hand falling from mine as he closes his eyes slowly going into deep sleep.

A sight of relief leaves my lips once he falls asleep. I prepare some medicine to calm his heat, I wasn’t a fan of suppressants but in this case is needed. Just until we are done treating him. Than I’m sure he will be put into mating process so he can have a safe and healthy heat.

After I’m done giving him his medicine, I write it down his next appointment and a new prescription.

Leaving the room I sight, my right hand massaging my neck. I look over my phone to see the time realizing it was way past eleven. Walking down the corridor to the elevators, my ringtone woke me up from daydreaming about my comfort bed.

- yes - o took the call.

- hey y/n - it was Jin - did you check on the special hybrid?

- wasn’t Joon going? - I said, confused at his words. He told me he would.

- no he head an emergency at home and had to leave - Jin explained, I sight.

- oh, i will than - i tell him.

- you seem tired y/n do you want me to go instead? - he offers.

- no is fine… - i tell him - he die a know you yet, it could make things difficult.

- okay - Jin says - call me if anything happens.

- I will, thank you.

I turn off the call, getting in the elevator. I push the bottom to the floor of the special hybrids where. My eyes feeling a bit heavier, I tried to push it away. Just one last check up and I can go home.

The elevators doors opened at the floor, the sound waking me up from my tiredness. I quickly made my way through the long corridor with doors to Yoongis room.

Pressing the code on the lock beside the door, it opens making a sound. The hot wave of air hitting my body as usual once i made my way in, the lights slowly turning back on.

Once they’re on I made my way to his bed, panicked at not seeing him there or any sing of him at all.

- Yoongi? - i call out his name, locking around the room but still no sight of him.

My heart begins to beat faster, as my mind runs different scenarios of what might have happened. Worry filling my body as I throw the papers i gel in my hand on the floor, taking my cellphone to call Jin as I turn to leave the room.

Still with eyes locked on my phone i don’t notice the lights slowly turning off, nothing takes my attention from the cellphone until arms close over my wrist turning my around.

My phone falling on the ground as he pushed me against the wall, both hands holding my wrists over the wall above my head.

- Yoongi?! - I stared into his dark orbs, relief filling me up. - I thought something happened to you…

He didn’t said anything. A hard look over his features, I couldn’t decipher what it meant. He held me tighter coming closer to my face.

- why do you smell like trash? - he spat.

- what? - I was so lost.

I knew I worked late but, is not like didn’t look out for myself. Working at the clinic I had to make sure I was always clean. I couldn’t understand what he meant.

- you stink of male rut… - he spat at me, hissing at the end. Eyebrows furred into an angry expression.

I should’ve thought about that before coming here stray after treating a hybrid on heat, shit. Knowing how Yoongi was sensitive about others males I should’ve at least put on some perfume.

- it’s not like that… - i tried to lessen his anger but it only seemed to make it worse.

- I don’t care… - he pushed himself away from me - don’t ever come back here smelling like that again…

- I won’t - i tell him, still not moving I watched as he walks back to his bed. - im sorry, I didn’t have time to… wash this off.

He doesn’t say anything, sitting on ver his bed he looks at me from afar.

- tomorrow will start your shedding treatment… - i tell him, still not moving from my spot.

At the smell of another male it was better did I kept my distance so it wouldn’t be too overwhelming for him who had a much higher sense.

- i just came to check on you, to make sure…

- come here - he interrupted, he voice sounded heavy almost a growl.

I would be lying if a said I wasn’t afraid, my phone was lost somewhere in this room and I had no way of calling for help if something happened. Although I knew he wouldn’t do something to hurt me i couldn’t be sure, the situation was a lot different now.

I could say something but, his instincts would say another complete different than mine.

Still I made my way towards him. Stopping a few steps away from him.

- closer… - he sighted. Dark eyes looking me up and down.

I gulped down, making my way closer to him. Stopping in front of him.

He looked up at me boxers getting up from the bed, close enough to kill me if he wanted to.

- was it a patient of yours? - he asked, voice low and raspy. He meant the smell.

- yes… - i manage to whisper, I felt so small in front of him. Like a pray.

- you’ll see him again? - he asked, taking a step closer. No distance between us. His breath hitting my face.

- yes… - i tell him, my eyes finally looking up at his.

He only nodded understanding.

- I don’t like this smell on you - i says, making me gulp down as i looking into his eyes. - but i understand…

He pushes me against him it happens so fast, once I notice he is pressing me down on his bed. Both his legs on each side of my hips, he held my arms up against the nest of covers and sheets.

Keeping them up he slides his hands down my arms over my sides, one finger playing with the bottoms of my shirt.

- you look healthy… - he murmurs eyeing me up and down.

- what…

He didn’t let me finish. Opening my shirt he went down over my chest, I gasped in surprise. Turning my face to the side, I expected anything except what he did.

I slowly opened my eyes at the feeling of his hot breath over my neck, my own breath got stuck in my throat the moment I felt the wetness of his tongue sliding over my chest up my neck.

- what are you doing? - I asked, my voice was only a whisper.

- taking that disgusting smell off you - he said over my neck.

- oh…

- but you’ll see him again… - he said, I turned to look at him.

- I have to, his my patient - i explained.

- than this won’t do… - he whispered more to himself, one hand holding my chin up he slowly turned my face to the side.

With my neck on full display for him he came closer, this time whispering over my ear.

- have you ever been bitten by a snake?

At his question my mind rushed with realization, my heart beating faster as his lips brushed over my skin. I tried to move my legs but he only used his body weight to held me down, my hands over his shoulders trying to push him away were quickly held up over my head with his left hand.

He chuckled at my useless try’s to get away from him.

A gasp leaving my lips immediately at the feeling of his sharp teeth carving my skin, tears filling my eyes at the painful sensation of his teeth inserting his venom on me. His hands slowly leaving his hold over me, i couldn’t move.

Once he took his teeth out of my skin, I groaned in pain. Feeling the warm liquid fall down my neck, he licked over the bite. Hand holding my chin to look at him.

- don’t worry… it will feel good soon - I looked up at him, his voice was a whisper in the dark.

My mind felt dizzy, vision getting blurry the heat of the room wasn’t helpful. My whole busy was burning, I tried to push him away but as soon as my hands came in touch with the silk over his skin my entire body responded, a wave of electicity coming up from the tips of my fingers to my whole body.

- Yoongi…

My eyes began to get heavier and heavier, hands falling beside me as I fell asleep.

Not before I felt his warm finger trace my jaw softly, his voice so far away I couldn’t make out what he said before I fall completely asleep.

Am i dying?

Next?

Notes: YES FINALLY!! Hehe I’m sorry for any grammatical typos! ☺️💖

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[won4ver]

hii, eires!! so i just saw your prompt list (super comprehensive, i'm in awe) and this idea immediately popped into my head as i was reading through them: their friends find out you’re not as scary as you look + you rub your cheek against their chest

and in my mind, riki starts dating someone but he's always been secretive about her when it came to the other members. they only ever saw her in passing since he doesn't want to hang out with her at the dorms where 6 other (stinky) boys live. and she has a very cool/cold aura about her and a rbf (much like riki 😭) so they worry she's mean or up to no good but in the scenario they stumble upon a cute and fluffy scene where riki and her are all lovey w each other :> and teasing ensues and riki gets all embarrassed and grumpy and she ends up being nice lol. it doesn't have to include all 7 of them, and you can pick any other prompts or ideas!! but that's my suggestion, yea :D

✈︎ the perfect moment

pairing : idol!bf!riki x fem!reader

warnings + genre : slight angst. fluff. teasing. riki gets angry and storms off. height difference.

wc : 2k

a/n : HIII N STOP I LOVE YOUR REQ SM??? i literally loved writing this so much, you’re literally a genius. i hope you like it, and that it lines up with your expectations! this was my first ever request so i’m a bit nervous lol. PLS LMK HOW I DID🫶🫶

“Have you spoken with Riki today?” Jay looked up from his phone at Heeseung’s worried tone, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried recalling a time he talked with their youngest member within the last twenty four hours.

“Uh no, why?” Jay tried not to let his nervousness show, barely stopping his voice from wavering. It wasn’t unusual for Riki to be away from his phone during their days off. If anything, it was expected of him.

Ever since he’d gotten together with you, he’d always spend his free time with you, typically spending the entire time at your apartment. 

But what wasn’t usual was him going no contact the entire day. Usually, he’d pop a few messages every couple of hours, informing his members about his plans and his sleeping arrangements.

“He hasn’t responded to anyone’s messages, Jake is getting worried because Riki told him that he’d call around noon and it’s-” Heeseung made a show of turning his lit-up phone screen towards Jay, bold numbers in the top center, “already seven.”

As if to confirm Heeseung’s words, Jake began spamming their group chat, questioning every single member about his whereabouts.

Jay gasped as he remembered his last conversation with Riki, one that took place just as he caught Riki leaving around six in the morning. “He’s with YN. I’m pretty sure they went to her family’s place in Incheon for lunch.”

Heeseung suddenly recalled Riki informing them about his trip a few nights ago, an excited smile on his face as he rambled to his members about how much he’d been looking forward to today. 

“Oh” The two boys shared a look, their expressions clearly troubled as they both thought back on the same memory. They didn’t mean to completely dismiss Riki’s excitement. They wanted to be excited for him, but it was hard.

They both remembered the way they all grimaced as they heard your name, their evident disapproval showcased on their faces. It was clear to everyone that they didn’t approve of you, well it was clear to everyone except for Riki up until that moment.

They all watched as his face dropped, confusion filling his eyes as he questioned them about their expression. Heeseung almost wished he could go back in time to stop himself from humiliating you in front of everyone, to stop himself from making his wrongful assumptions in front of your boyfriend.

He could hear his own words loud in his ears as if he said it all over again. “Riki, I don’t think she’s right for you. She’s never once shown any intention to even meet any of us, she just seems stand-offish.”

If that didn’t completely throw your boyfriend off, then his leaders following words definitely did. “She doesn’t seem like a good person to be around, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen her smile.” 

Heeseung saw the way Riki completely hardened at their words, his eyes glaring holes into them as he stood up from his chair. He could feel the way he flinched when Riki’s chair screeched against their dorm floor as he stormed outside, his house shoes still on.

“I feel bad about what happened that day.” Heeseung shook out of his reverie as he glanced over at Jay, his eyes glazed over the same way. “He’s barely said a single word to any of us since then. He literally gave me the cold shoulder yesterday!” 

It was clear to everyone in the group how much Riki cherished you. They saw it in the way his entire body perked up at your name. Or in the way they all watched him stay up late making little origami bouquets for you even when he had an early schedule.

It was so easy to dismiss all his acts of love because they’d never seen the two of you in action, only seeing a small glimpse of you as their managers dropped Riki off at your apartment for your weekly sleepovers. Or when they caught sight of you sitting in their company lobby while waiting for your boyfriend, head cladded in black headphones.

They all remembered the way you’d react when you caught them looking, the way you’d avoid their eyes and look down at the floor. Your oversized jeans and graphic hoodies didn’t help with their image of you either, your style matching their youngest perfectly. 

Those small peaks were enough for them to form their own opinions of you, enough for their dislike of you to build to the point of spilling in front of your boyfriend.

Jay felt his phone buzzing in his hand, a phone call from Jungwon coming in as his and Heeseung’s conversation paused. “Hello?” Heeseung couldn’t hear what Jungwon was saying over the quiet radio, their manager ignoring their conversation as he sat bobbing his head in the front. 

“Okay, Heeseung and I will reach the dorm first, once we get home I’ll try calling Riki again.” As soon as Jay ended the call he was quick to summarize their entire conversation, Heeseung nodding along as he agreed to call Riki as soon as they returned.

Their dorm was completely silent as they unlocked the door, all lights turned off sans for the smallest ray peeking from under Riki’s door.

Both boys’ eyes widened as they saw two pairs of shoes beside the door, a small awe of amazement leaving Heeseung’s mouth as he saw their matching shoes. “Jay, look! They literally have matching dunks.” He bent down to untie his shoes, eyes never leaving the smaller pair. 

“Her feet are so small, how tall is she?” Heeseung shrugged in response, their limited knowledge about you showing in their questions.

“Riki told me that she’s five three, she literally barely reaches his bicep.” Both boys jumped in shock as Jake appeared behind them, Sunghoon, Jungwon, and Sunoo following close behind him.

“You actually almost just gave me a heart attack” Sunoo snickered at the two boys before he paused in front of them, just now also noticing the shoes sitting beside the door. “Oh my god?” He gasped, a hand flying over his lips as his eyes sparked. “I think that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen?”

Jungwon leaned over Jake’s shoulder to see what everyone was staring at, regret coming back in full force as he recalled what he said to Riki.

Everyone settled down on their couch, their outer attire still around their shoulders and they relaxed for a minute. Through the silence in the living room, they were able to hear a small feminine giggle, one followed by a laugh they recognized as Riki’s right away. 

Jungwon stood up from his spot, tilting his head towards the door with wide eyes. They all stood frozen in spot as they finally heard the quiet music coming from his room, barely loud enough to hear over your giggles.

All the boys shared a knowing look, deciding this was the moment they’d finally properly meet you. They all stood around Riki’s door, Jake in the front as he gently grabbed the door handle. They all watched with bated breaths as the door opened, releasing it as they saw that neither of you heard it.

All their jaws dropped at the scene in front of them, the pure innocent scene in front of them not only melting their hearts but changing their thoughts on you.

The sight that welcomed them was one straight from a romcom, everything down to the way you looked into each other’s eyes was filled with nothing but love.

You stood in front of Riki, one hand entwined with his with your other wrapped tight around his waist. Your cheek was resting against his chest, chin pointed up as you looked him in the eyes with the brightest smile on your face.

Riki’s smile mirrored yours, hearts barreling out of his eyes as he held you tight against him.

Your feet were on top of his, sock-cladded heels elevated in the air as you stood on your tippy toes. For the first time since they’ve seen you finally ditched your jeans and an oversized sweater, both of you wearing your matching sets of lotte world pyjamas. Riki’s filled with small pictures of Lotty, and yours with Lorry.

Riki quietly hummed along to the music, playfully singing random parts to you. 

These moments together were his favourite, the soft ones that were shared between just the two of you. In your private world without the perceptions of others ruining your moment, it was perfect.

Well, it was perfect until Jay accidentally awed out loud, both your heads snapping towards Riki’s ajar door. Riki reacted before you, gently lowering you onto the ground and pushing you against his back, hiding you from the others’ view. 

Riki could feel your nervousness, your hands rubbing small shapes into his stomach as you held him tighter. Riki glared at his members as he felt your heart racing against his back, his protectiveness coming out in waves as he broadened his stance to hide you better.

“Is there something wrong?” Sunoo could barely keep his smile down, even with Riki’s glaring eyes he still looked completely harmless.

His long hair was done up in a half-up ponytail, his zigzag headband pushing his bangs out of his face. “You guys are so cute!” Riki raised an eyebrow at him in confusion, eyes losing their sharpness as the members started complimenting the two of you over each other. 

“Can you all leave, please? We’re kind of in the middle of something.” At your boyfriend’s surly wording, you gave him a soft nudge to the back. He quietly apologized to his members as they all gaped in amazement, “You got in to apologize with just a tap? We need you around more.” Riki turned red with embarrassment, closing his eyes tight as he focused on your hands around his waist.

You finally peeked out from behind your boyfriend’s back, automatically being met with all six boys staring at you with a soft look, small smiles greeting you as you looked from member to member. Riki felt you wiggling behind him, his protective instincts coming up again.

He turned his back to the members as he held you against his chest, looking down into your eyes for any sort of discomfort. When you nodded at him with a smile he finally stepped to the side, his hand clasped around yours as he pressed his side completely to yours.

Seeing your height difference in person differed completely from just hearing it from Jake. The actual image of the two of you beside each other was one they’d never forget. 

“Hey, you’re yn, right?” You nervously nodded your head towards Heeseung after looking into Riki’s eyes for reassurance. Heeseung smiled brightly at your cute acts, a tender affection filling whatever disapproval he held before.

Heeseung walked towards you, ignoring Riki’s warning looks, and reaching his hand out toward you. “I’m Heeseung, Riki’s eldest brother.” You wrapped your smaller hand around his own, your anxiety almost completely washing away at his gentleness.

“It’s nice to meet you. Riki had told me a lot about you.” Riki groaned out loud as you outed him, a soft whine of faux annoyance leaving his lips as he tugged on your entwined hands. “Don’t tell him that! That was supposed to be our secret.” You looked away from Heeseung to look at your boyfriend, a big smile on your lips as you gave him the softest look you could muster. 

“I mean it’s fine, you can tell them anything” Riki looked away from you with flushed cheeks, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as he tried to hide his lovesick smile.

“I didn’t know you could slow dance, Riki.” The room erupted with laughter as your boyfriend groaned. You easily allowed him to disconnect your hands so he could tackle Jake in a headlock, loud “la la la”’s leaving his mouth as they all teased him.

“Riki, dance with me!” Heeseung joined them, acting like he was going to wrap his arms around Riki’s waist. “Baby, help me!” Riki tried calling you for backup, only to let out a sigh of betrayal as you joined their teasing.

Even if your relationship with his members started off rocky, there was nothing any of you would change about this moment. It was completely perfect.

#won4ver ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི #won4ver ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི requests! #nishimura riki fluff #nishimura riki x reader #riki fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen ff #kpop fluff #niki fluff #enhypen ni ki fluff #ni ki fluff #enhypen ni ki #ni ki enhypen #ni ki x reader #enhypen niki fluff #nishimura riki #enha fluff #nishimura riki oneshot #nishimura riki soft hours #niki enhypen #enhypen x reader #nishimura riki scenarios #ni ki scenarios #enhypen niki scenarios #enhypen riki #riki enhypen #enhypen riki scenarios #enhypen fluff scenarios

[wordsbyrian]

Not So Secret Girlfriend - Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary: Another Polyglot fic. In which everyone is suddenly very concerned with R's love life.

A/N: This was requested by someone months ago (I forgot to write down who it was because it wasn't an anon) and I finally got around to writing it. The ending isn't exactly what I wanted but alas.

The international break is something that you have conflicted feelings about.

On one hand, you get to see and play alongside your national teammates and represent your country at the highest level.

And on the other hand, you have to make two 9+ hour flights in two weeks and jet lag can be a real bitch.

At the beginning of your time with the national team, it was especially bad because not only were you jet lagged but you were also really nervous which affected the amount of sleep you were getting.

Now, more than three years since your first camp, you’ve got your place pretty locked in (even if you don’t start every game)  and some of your friends from the youth teams are here too.

You had previously thought it would be fun. Yet, you find yourself rethinking that considering you’re currently being harassed by Ashley Sanchez and Sophia Smith before you’ve even finished your coffee.

The source of the teasing is your phone which has chimed with a new text every 45 seconds since you’ve placed it on the table.

“Sophia, can you believe that Y/N/N just abandoned us to go play in Spain and now she’s too cool to even talk to us at breakfast,” Ashley asks in a tone that you are more than familiar with, it’s overly dramatic and you smile a little hearing it.

 “It’s crazy,” Sophia agrees. “Our little nerd is all grown up. Seems like just yesterday we were in France trying to get her to show off her language skills for the locals.”

“They grow up so fast,” Jaelin pretends to weep as she joins the three of you at the table.

Sighing deeply, you shake your head at them and reach for your phone only to end up glaring at Ashley when she snatches it away.

“Sanchez,” you say warningly, “It’s too early for this.”

“It’s too early for your phone to be blowing up like you’re the plug,” she responds before looking over her shoulder. “Naomi,” she shouts, “hurry up, we’re going through Y/N’s phone.”

“No, we’re not,” you say.

“Yea, we are,” Sophia and Jaelin say in perfect unison.

Sighing once more, you sit back and let it happen, focusing back on your breakfast.

It’s hard though because you’re practically forced to listen to their running commentary on the contents of your phone.

“All of her texts are in Spanish.”

“Makes sense, they’re all to her Barcelona teammates.”

“Nah, she texted us and Press too, those are in English.”

“And this one is from ‘Red Heart Emoji’ aka long-term secret girlfriend, but that’s in Spanish too.”

“It can’t be a secret if you four know about her,” you say not looking up.

“And yet, we know nothing about her except that she has brown hair and for some odd reason is attracted to you,” Naomi says, “Super cute, secret contact photo though.”

“Woah,” you say, slightly offended when the others chuckle. “I’m a fucking catch.”

“I’m sure mystery girlfriend thinks that,” Sophia starts, “But we’ve known you since you were 13 so we know better.”

“I should’ve found better friends when I had a chance.”

“You’d never get rid of us Y/N/N,” Jae says, “Here’s your phone back.”

Just as you reach for it another hand reaches out and grabs it.

You follow the hand until you see the face of the person it belongs to, and you can only shake your head when you see Kelley.

“Sup Baby Genius,” she says, “What’s this I’m hearing about a secret girlfriend?”

Standing up, you roll your eyes before taking your phone back from the veteran player and walking away.

“We’re not having this conversation,” you say, “See you at practice.”

“We will eventually Y/N,” Kelley shouts after you.

“No we won’t you,” you respond, making your way out of the room.

By the time practice comes around that afternoon, your love life has become a popular topic of conversation.

And much to your chagrin, it doesn’t seem like the other women plan on letting up anytime soon, every free moment sees you peppered with questions.

Luckily, or unluckily rather, your friends are more than willing to answer any that they can.

Their answers aren’t very satisfying considering they don’t actually know that much but it does get the others off your back for a bit.

The one question you do answer yourself though is because you’re slightly offended when you hear it.

“Do Christen and Tobin know,” someone asks.

And it hurts your feelings. The idea that you wouldn’t tell something this important to the two women who have become almost like surrogate parents to you.

“Of course they do,” you respond, “And before anyone asks, Mal does too, why do you think she isn’t asking questions?”

After that, the team mostly gives up on trying to get you to tell them who your girlfriend is.

Even Kelley leaves it alone although she does still make a show of moaning and groaning whenever she sees Sanchez and Sophia, upset once again that they didn’t tell her something.

But even that is nothing more than her usual playful whining which is great because it means that you can go back to focusing on how you're supposed to play against your girlfriend and club teammates at the end of the week.

You’ve played against them once before but that was years ago and you were only on the field for maybe three minutes.

Now though, you’re more experienced and Vlatko has already all but told you to expect to play the full 90.

This is why you’re not surprised when he asks you to share what you know about the Spaniards in the final meeting on MD-1.

“Well,” you say, looking at how the coaches think your opposition will lineup, “The most important thing is that they play a pretty positionless style, so don’t be surprised if you’re not marking who the lineup says you will be, hell, don’t be surprised if Mapi pops up as the CAM. And I know you think that stopping Alexia is paramount but Patri and Aitana can dribble around or through you with just as much skill if not more.”

“Thank you, Y/L/N is there anything else you care to tell us,” Coach asks.

“Athenea is fucking annoying,” you say plainly, much to the amusement of your teammates.

Vlatko, on the other hand, just rolls his eyes and continues with the meeting.

When it’s done and you’ve been released, you do your best to leave the room quickly but without drawing any attention to yourself.

It doesn’t work though because you’re stopped by the head trainer Mary.

“How are you feeling,” she asks.

“Good.”

“Jetlag gone? Sleeping well?”

“Yup, I’m ready to go,” you tell her, bouncing on your toes.

“Alright,” she says with a smile, “I’m done bothering you, go call your girlfriend.”

That stops you in your tracks and leaves you staring at the trainer with your mouth open and eyes wide.

“How did you know that,” you manage to stutter out.

“Well, one, this team can’t speak softly to save its life, and two,” she says, “I was 21 once too. Now go on.”

Shooting the trainer, you smile and rush off.

The next day, your pre-match routine goes off without a hitch. Morning meditation, headphones, and a vow of silence, sees you in the best possible headspace for the match.

You’ve done everything you possibly could to prepare for this but still, as you stand in the tunnel across from your club teammates, you can’t help but to feel slightly off.

It doesn’t matter though because before you know it, you’re in your spot on the field and the first whistle is blown.

You don’t touch the ball much in the first 15 minutes but in the 16th a quickly played pass from Sully sees you breaking down the wing with the ball at your feet.

It’s easy enough to get going at what is nearly full speed for you, your opponents not having expected you to take off rather than completing the give-and-go with Andy.

One of the people you get past is Athenea and you can’t help but toss an ‘adios’ over your shoulder on your way.

It’s a great run if you do say so yourself, but as you go to make the final cross into the box, you find it blocked by someone you are very familiar with.

You let out a curse as you trudge to take your place for the resulting corner but you can’t help but smile slightly as you see your girlfriend smirking at you.

No goal comes from the corner and the game continues.

Your next major involvement doesn’t come until the 25th minute and it’s because Patri tries to send a long ball over the top to get Athenea in behind. You manage to get the first touch to it, bringing it down softly. You even get a pass off sending it up to Sully but less than a second later, you’re laying on the pitch clutching your foot as the result of a late challenge from Athenea

It hurts really fucking bad but what it does more than that anything is piss you off. So you just get up and shake your head at her,

You know what face you’re making and your teammates on both sides of the ball know what it means: Athenea is going to be in for a long day.

For the rest of the half, you do your best to make her life a living hell, putting a little more force into your tackles and being slightly more annoying with your trash talk. And the ref, well she either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care because you manage to keep it clean even if you are toeing the line.

 Vlatko definitely notices though and at halftime, you get a very stern talking to about your aggression and making slightly better choices since some of your tackles put the ball right at Spanish feet.

You only sort of listen to him.

Your battle against Athenea continues into the second half but it’s not the only thing you have to deal with.

Part of Vlatko’s halftime talk included him wanting you to get forward more, putting the team in a 3-4-3 while attacking but keeping your standard 4-3-3 when you get back on defense.

This meant that you were doing a lot more running and that you had a lot more encounters with Spain’s right back, Batlle, in your attacking half.

It’s a lot of back and forth, especially with the game remaining scoreless. And the two of you can’t help but trade a few verbal barbs as well.

She tries and fails to body block you off the ball and you make a quip about how that might work against the WSL players but not you.

You over-hit a cross and she asks which of your veteran teammates taught you that.

In the 69th minute, when both teams go to make substitutions, you mouth the words ‘game over’ to her when you see that Sophia is coming on. She just shakes her head and points back to the sideline where you see Pina and Lucia Garcia standing by the 4th official.

Those subs do mean the end of your battle against Athenea but you don’t actually care about that since you’ll have plenty of time to annoy her during the next Clasico match.

The subs do have the desired effect though because, in the 79th minute, you manage to send in a through ball that finds Sophia’s feet before it hits the back of the net.

Unfortunately, the lead doesn’t last long because, in the 84th minute, Batlle gets an assist of her own by cutting the ball back to Aitana who rockets it past Naeher.

And the game ends that way, a 1-1 draw.

Immediately after the final whistle, you find yourself shaking hands and being pulled into hugs by your Barcelona teammates. 

There are a couple of jokes cracked and Mapi repeatedly asks what you kept saying to Athenea to piss her off but you refuse to tell her. Both Pina and Patri ask for your jersey but you tell them it’s already been promised to someone else. They ask who and you don’t tell them.

20 minutes later, you’re leaning against a wall somewhere in the depths of the stadium holding said jersey in your hand and waiting for someone.

You don’t wait for long, no more than five minutes before someone launches into you like a heat-seeking missile.

“Long time no see, Onita,” you greet, looking down at your girlfriend who has already buried her face in your shoulder.

Her response is grumbled into your shoulder and since you can’t really understand it so you just chuckle softly and hold her tighter.

The two of you stand there for a while holding each other and engaging in soft conversation. Nothing important is said, it’s just the two of you enjoying a quiet moment.

It lasts a while but not nearly long enough because suddenly there are voices coming towards you from both sides of the hallway.

From the left, a loud American you instantly recognize as Sanchez is trying to convince someone to make a bet with her about what you're doing. And from the right, another group, you vaguely recognize one voice as Leila, shouting in a mixture of Catalan and Spanish. That group is too hectic for you to make out what’s being said.

“Time’s up,” she whispers to you, trying to take a step back but failing when you don’t let her go.

“It’s fine,” you tell her, “Although Leila might give you the kicked-puppy look for a couple of weeks.”

A few seconds later, both groups stand in front of you with various looks of shock on their faces.

From the US, it’s exactly who you thought it would be, Sanchez, Sophia, and Mal, who barely waits half a second before pulling out her phone and texting who you assume to be Christen and Tobin. The Spanish search party consists of Leila (obviously), Pina, and Patri, who bursts out laughing like this is the funniest thing she’s ever seen.

A moment passes…

And then an explosion of noise as they all begin to speak at once, the languages mixing and overlapping in a way that’s impossible to follow.

Taking a deep breath, you separate yourself from Ona, giving her a quick kiss and passing her your jersey. Once no longer intertwined, you take a step forward, hold a finger up to your lips, and wait for the group to quiet down before speaking.

“I will be taking no further questions. Thank you,” you say once they do, immediately turning on your heel and walking away.

There’s another explosion of noise as everyone protests that and just underneath it, you can hear Ona laugh before she calls your name which makes you stop and turn back to her.

“Y/N/N, aquí, toma esto,” she says, tossing you her Spain jersey.

Catching it, you smile at her before turning back around and continuing to walk away.

You get maybe 15 steps away before you hear what sounds like a herd of bulls coming up behind you as your teammates catch up.

“Kelley is going to be so mad that we know who your secret girlfriend is and she doesn’t,” Sophia says, falling into step with you.

“It’s going to be great,” Sanchez grins.

“Just do me a favor and wait until I’m back in Spain to tell her that you know,” you respond, “I can’t deal with that backlash in person.”

“What do I get in return?”

You take a moment to think about it before answering, “A favor in return, no questions asked.”

“Deal.”

“Y/N,” Mal shakes her head at you, “You just made a deal with the devil.”

“Too late now.”

#uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #muwfc x reader #muwfc imagine #espwnt imagine #espwnt x reader

[capricornlevi]

warm, cool, sweet and bitter

cafe!owner nanami x reader - gn!reader - sfw - wc 1.6k

"not going for the usual?"

nanami's question is delivered casually and carefully, the low tones of his voice carrying across the empty floor of the restaurant.

his restaurant, to be exact. your favourite spot for a late-night cup of tea and the only place in the city that serves sandwiches made with baguettes baked fresh in-house, you find yourself here around 4am at least four days a week.

it's funny; your schedules make it so that the end of your day always coincides with the start of nanami's. he comes in early to put the pastries in the oven, to grind the coffee beans to the correct consistency, to ensure that there's enough stock to last the coming few hours. he's always occupied with some task or another -- for his sake, you're glad you're the only customer at this hour.

though the restaurant is a veritable ghost town whenever you visit, he has told you it tends to pick up around 7am. within the hour, there's a queue out the door.

the popularity doesn't surprise you. nothing beats the welcoming aroma of fresh bread from the oven, the slightly bitter but warm scent of brewing coffee enveloping you into a little bubble sheltered from the usual hustle and bustle of the streets outside.

the bar you work at is just three doors down, and so by the time last call is announced, you're already thinking of the warm baguette you're going to enjoy before rushing home to collapse into bed.

the same baguette every time, with the same blend of tea. you're fairly certain he gives you the same mug every time, too, a beautifully crafted piece of porcelain with little hand-painted yellow flowers decorating the sides.

you've carved out a nice little routine for yourself. but as nanami so astutely pointed out a moment ago, you figure it's time to change it.

some aspects of the routine stay the same; you sit on the same counter stool you always sit at, placed just beside the coffee maker so you can chat as nanami prepares a macchiato for himself. nanami looks the same, dressed in that familiar shirt and slacks that seem perfectly tailored just for him. the smooth jazz playlist plays so quietly in the background that it's barely legible -- you only catch a note or two every few minutes.

but you are going to change one key aspect of this ironclad routine: your order.

"yeah, gonna go for coffee today, i think," you inform him, trying to sound assured in your decision. "a double epresso, please."

"a double? at four in the morning?"

he casts a questioning look your way from over the counter and you shrug, trying to ignore the ache of your muscles as you do so. as he hand-whisks some whipped cream for the pastries, a few strands of his blond hair fall into his eyes. he tries to flick them away to no avail.

you swallow, a lump forming in your throat as you think of how to reply.

"busy day ahead of me, i guess."

nanami nods slowly -- out of politeness, you presume, since there's no way he knows what you're referring to.

your purposeful vagueness isn't to be rude, though, it's just saving you both from extreme awkwardness.

since the reason you're loading up on caffeine is so that you're fully charged to go and break up with your cheating boyfriend.

your pathetic, free-loading, unable to do his own laundry, didn't even have the courtesy to crop you out of the pictures he used on his Tinder profile, miserable excuse for a boyfriend.

in the middle of your lunchbreak you received a text from a girl he'd been hooking up with, who had very kindly spotted your picture on his social media and decided to inform you as to the calibre of man you were calling your significant other.

you thanked her, typed up a three-sentence long text telling your boyfriend it was over, and blocked him.

he had then used his friend's phone to call you, weeping for a chance to explain, snivelling and choking out inarticulate apologies, and you agreed to see him one last time.

just to give him a piece of your mind before cutting him off for good. it'll be good for closure, you figure.

you're more angry than heartbroken -- honestly, you're not sure you ever really liked him. six months into this relationship and you find yourself looking forward to these conversations with nanami more than you do spending time with the man you're actually seeing.

were seeing. past tense, thankfully.

nanami bends down to place the whipped cream in the fridge, dusting some residual flour from his royal blue shirt as he rises again.

"sounds like more than just a busy day," he observes patiently, measuring out some espresso grounds to pull your coffee. "want to talk about it?"

against the odds, your exhausted face brightens with a smile. "there's good customer service, and then there's me taking advantage of your hospitality, nanami."

shaking his head amusedly as he shakes off the excess grounds from the basket, he chuckles, a low, pleasant sound that lodges in your chest.

"it's not taking advantage if i'm offering willingly."

"you don't have enough to do around here?" you grin.

"oh, i do. but hearing about your problem might make me feel better about having to spend three hours doing stock take later this evening."

"ah, so i'm doing you a service moaning about my personal life?"

"absolutely. in fact, if it's tragic enough, i'll throw in a pain au chocolate free of charge."

"high stakes," you reply with a faux solemnity. "you really want to hear?"

"very much so," he answers, the sentence being punctuated by the hum of the espresso machine.

"okay then," you sigh, fidgeting with the rings on your right hand as some vain attempt to distract yourself. "the short of it is that i just wasted six months of my life. half a year. five percent of a decade that i'll never get back."

nanami waits for the espresso to finish pouring, the deep amber of the coffee shot wafting steam up into the air between the two of you.

"wasted how?"

another sigh, wearier this time. "on a guy who i genuinely think has annoyed me since i met him."

silence. this time, it doesn't appear to be coffee-related.

but when you glance away from your rings to see nanami's face, you see that it's more pensive than judgemental. as though he's truly considering what to say next.

"why did you agree to go out with him in the first place?" he asks after another few moments, brows slightly pinched together.

a fair question. one you're not entirely sure of the answer to.

"fear of the alternative?" you hazard a guess, acutely aware of how strange it is to be speaking so candidly with a guy you only know through your shared love for baked goods.

"being alone?" he follows up with a sincerity that cuts through any discomfort.

"i guess."

"i know what you mean," nanami continues, finally remembering the espresso shot that's still sitting on the tray.

he takes the cup -- your usual, because neither of you thought to forego that part of the routine -- and sets it before you, muscles in his forearms straining when he crosses them over his chest afterwards.

"you do not," you mumble instictively. the words fall out without you thinking, but they're not meant maliciously; it's just that nanami is so ... eligible, for lack of better word. handsome, engaging, owns his own thriving café.

he makes fresh eclairs every single morning, for crying out loud. you cannot fathom a world in which people aren't lining up to be with him.

though your blurted words could be perceived as rude, nanami just smiles softly, amusement reaching his eyes as they lock with yours.

"want me to tell you something?"

"is it as embarrassing as my fact?" you query, knocking back most of your coffee in one swig.

"unquestionably."

at that, you set the cup back down abruptly, clinking it against the saucer.

"really?"

he just nods. you sit back on the stool, feeling the plush backing of the stool against your lower back.

"go on, then."

"i don't actually open this early."

your face scrunches into an expression of pure confusion; nanami's lips quirk upwards in response.

"what do you mean? do you open in like ... a half hour?"

he shakes his head, those strands of hair falling loose again.

something washes over you, a sense of recognition, connecting the dots slowly in your tired, over-exerted brain.

"nanami ..."

"yes?"

"... do you not open until seven?"

nanami's weighted silence answers your question.

you breathe in, out. blink haplessly up at him.

you're sure your coffee is starting to get cold, but you make no attempt to drink it.

"i - what - what are you - why do you let me come in here three hours early? why did you never say anything?"

you choke out the words desperately, flooded with a dozen different feelings at once.

he stays smiling, but something else flashes in his eyes. you see the already-tense muscles of his arms tighten further.

"why do you think i never said anything?"

#nanami x reader #gn reader #nanami kento x reader #sfw #may tries to write #hey let me know if you want me to write more on this teehee! #nanowrimo

[morningberriesao3]

Bully!Scoops!Steve Harrington X Dom!Eddie Munson

Summary: Steve and Eddie don't get along. Never have, never will. One night, after their shifts end at the mall, Eddie finally releases some of that pent up aggression that he's been harbouring for years.

Word Count: 13.6 K

Chapters: 1 of 1

Content Warnings: Explicit m/m sexual content including… mildly dubious consent, aggression, fight sex, hate sex, spit kink, internalized homophobia and homophobia language, aggression, face-fucking, under-negotiated kink, choking, gagging, car sex (semi-public), dirty talk, degradation, allusions to anal sex, anal play, cum eating, orgasm denial, exhibitionism, voyeurism, light s&m, light dacryphilia

Tags: enemies to lovers (but they’re actually enemies), Steve Harrington’s Scoops Ahoy uniform, Robin Buckley/Eddie Munson friendship, pre-season three, Eddie hates Steve

All characters are—and always will be—18 or older, whether explicitly stated or not

Hate the Way It Feels So Good

Eddie and Steve don’t get along.  

It started as far back as middle school, when cliques started forming and kids started dividing themselves into two very distinct categories: cool, and not cool. They were basically on opposite sides of the spectrum. Natural born enemies.

Steve did things like toss balls into hoops and get sweaty in the gym with a bunch of other dudes, and then corner Eddie at lunch hour and call him the queer. As if he was the one chest to chest with Billy fucking Hargrove an hour earlier, sliding all over him in a tangle of pent-up testosterone.

But no, Eddie was the queer, because he spent his time playing Dungeons and Dragons with his fellow nerds.

At first, it was just another word that got tossed at him. Freak, loser, dork. Queer. At first, Eddie didn’t let it get to him.

Until he was fifteen years old, and he suddenly noticed Trevor Brown’s shoulder muscles underneath his t-shirt. The way they stretched the fabric and made it cling to them like plastic wrap. How the hem of that same shirt rode up above the band of his jeans when he lifted his arms above his head to expose a strip of skin. And how Eddie wanted to run his fingers on it.

The word queer from that day on felt like a bullet flying from a loaded gun.

For three years, Eddie tried to suppress those feelings. He dated Liv from his D&D club for half of that time—thought maybe he could learn to love a girl. To look at her skin the same way he’d looked at Trevor’s all those years ago.

Four months into dating, Eddie and Liv had sex. The whole time, it felt like there was a stone the size of a cherry pit stuck in Eddie’s throat. One that he couldn’t for the life of him swallow down. He didn’t want to look at her. Felt his fingers shaking with something that wasn’t lust as he dug them into her hips. Had to consciously remind himself to keep his eyes on her and not the ceiling, the walls, the pillows. Not to keep them squeezed shut.

He dated her for ten more months after that. They had sex a dozen more times. It never got easier.

Eddie’s friends would talk about their hookups, how good they felt. How they hoped they could do it again. And Eddie just felt nauseous at the thought. He’d make up excuses that he wouldn’t be home, that Wayne would be home, that he was sick, that he had homework, guitar lessons, a family obligation, a job interview. Anything to keep Liv out of his bedroom for as long as possible.

In April of 1984—Eddie’s first time in grade twelve—he decided to break things off. He had to focus on his grades next year, he said, and she was finished with high school, so he really didn’t have the time. All excuses, but she seemed to accept them without pause.

It was about a month after that, that Eddie went to Indianapolis and kissed another man for the first time. Three seconds into it before he realized exactly what his friends had been talking about—his body reacting in a way it never had before. Carnal desire. An urge to go further, to not stop. No cherry pit lodged in his tonsils.

The next months came with a lot of internal loathing. And then experimentation. And then… not quite acceptance. But something close.

It helped that he met band geek Robin Buckley near the end of the school year when they both happened to wander into the practice room one lunch hour. They bonded pretty quickly over music, even though their tastes didn’t intersect that often. But they were both unpopular and quirky and had very little filters, so it was easy enough to form a friendship.

Eddie was able to tell her one summer night as they got high by Lover’s Lake, that he thought he was gay. It only came out when she started blubbering about her crush on Tammy Thompson and then started blubbering harder to try to cover it up.

Needless to say, Eddie and Robin became very close, very fast. She was the only person who knew all of Eddie. And he was the only person who knew all of her.

Eddie was thrilled on Robin’s first day at Scoops Ahoy a year later. The ice cream shop sat directly parallel to Camelot Music where he worked a few hours most days after school, and even longer shifts on the weekends. He knew he’d be able to sit at his register and steal glances of his friend struggling to get through training, and then later, on the slower days, they’d be able to sneak into the hall and cause trouble.

His giddiness was squashed when he saw who the second hire was.

Steve Harrington, standing with his too-big hands on his swimmer’s hips, his eyebrows pinched together above the bridge of his nose, staring down at the buckets of Vanilla-Bean-Caramel and Pineapple-Raspberry ice cream as their boss showed them how to form a proper scoop. Robin stood next to him, looking far less perplexed—and annoyingly calm about having to work next to Eddie’s arch nemesis. Not that she really knew the extent of his hate, beyond the few times he muttered prick under his breath when Steve’s name was mentioned.

“He’s not that bad,” Robin had said when Eddie cornered her after her first shift.

“What do you mean he’s not that bad? He’s a total fuckwad.”

Robin simply shrugged one of her shoulders and said, “I never said he wasn’t.”

Eddie had let it drop that night. But it got harder and harder as time went on.

It was the last day of Steve Harrington’s high school career, 1985, when Eddie took his first swing at that perfect Roman nose of his.

Eddie had been minding his own fucking business in the cafeteria. He can’t remember exactly what had riled him up, but maybe he was being a little flamboyant in a public place. Sometimes he just can’t help himself. But he wasn’t hurting anybody as he scurried around his table and tried to make his friends laugh.

Jason Carver—prick supreme—had something to say about it (as always), flanked by none other than Steve Harrington, who seemed distracted as he zoned off into the distance. “Keep your voice down, freak.”

Sometimes, Eddie had enough control to keep his retorts to himself. But not this day. “You seem to seek me out these days, Carver. I would argue that you like my voice.”

Jason’s nose wrinkled. “You wish, queer.”

Steve seemed to zone back into reality, his eyes narrowing in on Jason and then on Eddie, who twisted his features up into a mockery of a flirtatious smile and said, all too sweetly, “Oh, I do wish. Why don’t you come on over tonight, Jason, and I’ll show you just how much.”

Steve choked on his own saliva then, as if he couldn’t hold back the gag from the thought of someone being gay. Or maybe more specifically, Eddie being gay. Either way, it pissed Eddie off to no end.

“You have an issue, Harrington?”

Steve’s eyes widened, but then he schooled his face back into a mask of nonchalance. “Nope.”

“Really? ‘Cause it seems like you have an issue.” Eddie stepped into Steve’s personal space. Their shoulders brushed against each other. “Maybe you want to come over instead. This queer can show you a great time.”

The look of pure horror on Steve’s face might have been hilarious if Eddie hadn’t been feeling so fired up. “Absolutely not, man. No way.”

“Bit of a bigot, are we, Stevie?” Eddie puffed himself up as big as he could get. His chest bumped into Steve, who took half a step back in shock.

“I didn’t say that,” Steve had said, almost defensively. For a second, Eddie almost thought he would turn around and leave him alone. Until Steve’s eyes found Jason’s, and he tacked on for good measure, “I’m just not like you.”

Eddie saw red. “Like me?”

“Yeah. You know. A fairy—”

Eddie’s fist nearly whistled through the air as he tried to connect it with Steve’s face. Only, Steve’s reflexes were pretty great after all his years training in whichever sports Eddie knew nothing about, so he managed to sidestep the swing. Jason grabbed Eddie’s wrist and laid his own punch against his cheekbone. Eddie landed flat on his ass in front of a growing crowd of school kids who were thrilled about a brawl breaking out.

Five minutes later, Eddie had found himself in the principal’s office, getting reprimanded about how next year would be his last chance to graduate, and how he was ruining his future by getting into fights, and maybe he just needed to go to church over the summer to help find his path in life.

Jason was asked if he was alright and was sent home with a pat on his back.

It has been two weeks since that incident. The cut on Eddie’s cheek from Jason’s knuckles has nearly healed.

He’s currently running his finger over what’s left of the scab, staring through slitted eyes at Harrington desperately trying to flirt with girls, even as he’s dressed in his stupid sailor’s outfit.

Eddie snickers to himself, watching the girls side-eye each other. They giggle condescendingly as they walk away from the ice cream counter. Another fallout.

He notices Robin take out a dry-erase marker to add another tally under the “You Suck” category of the T-chart she made for Steve. At least she’s humbling him, even if she doesn’t agree that he’s the worst person to ever walk the planet.

It’s a Saturday, nearing four o’clock. It’s time for Eddie’s break, and he always stops by Scoops to see if Robin can join him. This has led to way more interactions with Steve than he would ever like to admit, but they’re usually short-lived. Eddie glares at Steve, and Steve stares back at him like he might catch the Freak Disease if he gets too close. It’s a routine.

He hands the keys to his coworker and slowly makes his way across the tiles of the wide mall hallway. Steve sees his approach, and Eddie can see the panic set in. Steve’s puppy eyes go large, and he turns quickly on his heels. He tears the dumb sailor’s hat from his perfectly coiffed hair, saying something unintelligible to Robin.

Her eyes lock on Eddie just as he approaches the register. “Ahoy, Eddie. Are you ready to set sail on this ocean of fla—”

“Can it, Robin,” Steve cuts in from his now lazy stance at the back of the shop. “You don’t need to do the whole spiel to Munson every time he visits you at work.”

“But it’s funny,” she argues. She turns to Eddie. “Don’t you think it’s funny?”

“It’s hilarious,” Eddie says. Any chance to disagree with Harrington. “I would be so disappointed if you were to stop. Please, continue?”

“Are you ready to set sail on this ocean of flavour?” Robin wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at Eddie. “I’ll be your captain. I’m Steve Har—”

“I knew it!” Steve whines. “I knew this was a way for you to make fun of me!”

Robin unleashes a vault of snort-laughter that sounds like she’s been holding it in all day. Eddie has to physically contain himself from joining along, especially when he sees how disgruntled Steve looks from the low blow.

“It’s not like I want to say that shit,” Steve continues. “They told me to. I’m just doing my job—I just—It’s just—”

Eddie slaps his hand over his mouth, but he can’t stop himself from giggling alongside Robin. It’s especially ironic that Steve is so pressed about getting made fun of when just two weeks ago, he was joining alongside Jason to do that very thing to Eddie. Call it karma.

“Whatever.” Steve crosses his arms defensively over his chest. “Assholes. Leave me alone. Customers are coming.”

Robin takes her time slipping her hat from her head and placing it on a stool behind her. The group of young women appear in front of Steve, who also abandons his hat. Showing off his hair must be the only chance he has at getting laid anymore.

“Ahoy ladies, I’m St—” Steve’s eyes dart sideways to a snickering Robin, and then at Eddie who can feel one of his brows raised like a dare. Steve clears his throat. “I’m Steve. What can I get for you?”

Eddie scoffs at the same time Robin snorts and says, “See you in an hour, Dingus.”

Steve ignores her.

They leave the ice cream shop and make their way to the Burger King in the opposite corner of the food court. Finally, Eddie feels far away enough to ask, “Dingus?”

“Yeah.” Robin scans the menu behind the counter like she’s not just going to order the chicken sandwich. “He’s totally a dingus. I thought you’d agree on that one.”

“There are a lot of colourful words I’d use to describe Steve Harrington,” Eddie mumbles. “But I guess a dingus is a start.”

“There’s the spirit.” Robin slaps Eddie on the back, totally unaware that he is once again stewing over the jock that makes his life a living hell. “Let me buy you something. Whopper or Nuggets?”

“Nuggets. And fries, because all this talk about Steve is really putting me through it.”

“He’s really not that—”

“Not that bad. I know, you’ve said so a thousand times. But do you see my damn cheek?” Eddie points to the nearly healed wound like Robin hasn’t watched it through the red-to-purple-to-yellow healing phases.

She purses her lips and seems to choose her next words carefully. “Right. Okay. But from what I understand, Steve didn’t punch you. Jason did.”

Eddie stares at her incredulously. “Seriously? You’re gonna get hung up on the details? He called me a—” he lowers his voice to a whisper “—a fairy.”

“I know. And that is seriously not cool. But Jason called you a queer,” Robin retorts, just as quietly. “Fairy is better than the other F word he could have said.”

“I can’t believe you’re defending him.” Eddie points to the cashier who is now waiting to take their order. “I also want a Coke.”

Robin rolls her eyes but buys Eddie his meal, which he thinks is the bare minimum that he deserves after all this emotional distress.

The hour seems to fly by, and Eddie thanks whatever power there might be in the universe that Steve doesn’t get mentioned again. Until the walk back to their respective jobs.

“Oh—I forgot to mention. Steve is taking over the closing shift tonight, so I won’t be catching a ride with you.”

Eddie hovers between Camelot Music and Scoops. “Ugh. It’s so desolate here for closing. You better hope I don’t get murdered walking alone in the parking lot after dark.”

“You’ll be fine.” Robin turns away, heading towards Steve who looks like he’s struggling with a gaggle of children ordering milkshakes and sundaes. Eddie swears he hears her breathe under her breath, “Steve will be here.”

Eddie tries not to let that statement paint his face in a scowl for the rest of his shift, but as he inches closer to the clock chiming 9pm, he feels himself failing. It is way too obvious that, yes, Steve will be there as he closes shop. The rest of the food court close their doors at 8, but for some reason the owner of Scoops thinks that an ice cream shop has to stay open late. Like there are children that will be needing their sugar fix before bedtime.

As if.

There are a few other stores besides Camelot that also close at 9, but they’re located near Entrance C. Meaning, for the last hour of his shift, Eddie is forced to stare at Steve pacing behind the fluorescent lights of his ice cream coolers while he sits and simmers behind his own register.

Every now and then, Eddie swears he can see Steve look over in his direction. But each time he turns his head to catch him and hopefully be able to scream out what the fuck do you want?, Steve’s gaze is back on his Nikes.

It’s a major relief when it’s finally 9, and Eddie can swing the gates closed to the front of Camelot. He decides to take longer than usual to tidy up shop, carefully folding the t-shirt display and making sure to pull stock forward on the shelves so they look full for the morning staff. He cashes out, drops the envelope into the safe in the ground, and wipes off the counter. The lights in the front of Scoops have been off for roughly seven minutes (not that Eddie has been staring at the clock since they went dark), so he figures it’s safe to leave from the back entrance.

The heavy door latches behind him as he steps into the giant parking lot. He’d only been half joking with Robin at the mention of getting murdered. It would be a prime spot for some crimes to be committed after dark like this—only a few vehicles still scattered the pavement, far and few between. His van is the farthest of them all.

Regardless, he sucks in a breath and starts to make his way across the eerily quiet lot. It only takes him a few seconds to get a strange tingling sensation on the back on his neck, like he’s being watched. He opens his ears, realises that he can hear a second set of footsteps beyond his own. And they sound close.

Eddie whirs around with his fingers clenched into fists, ready to strike at—

“Steve?” Eddie huffs a sigh of relief, but then realises he still might be very much in danger of getting his ass kicked. He keeps his hands balled up. “What the fuck, man? Why are you following me?”

Steve isn’t exactly geared up to fight. He’s walking on the other side of the lane, his hands in his pockets. Maybe not relaxed, but a lot more relaxed than Eddie feels.

“I’m not following you. I’m walking to my car.” Steve lifts one of his hands from his pockets to point at the burgundy BMW parked a few dozen feet away from Eddie’s van. “I closed. Didn’t Robin tell you?”

“She did, but you closed up ten minutes before I left. You should be gone.”

Steve shrugs. “I was in the back.”

“Convenient,” Eddie says under his breath, mostly to himself. “Look, man, I’m really not in the mood to get jumped tonight. My face is barely back to normal from the last time.”

“Uhuh. How’s that healing?” Steve’s eyes trail over Eddie’s body, like he’s scanning for damage. Eddie feels himself tense under the scrutiny, wondering why Steve might be sizing him up. What kind of carnage he has in mind. Why it sounds like he’s actually curious about Eddie’s face and not being sarcastic. Impossible. “About what I said—”

“What,” Eddie spits, “that I’m a fairy?”

“Yeah—”

“You know, I find it funny.” Eddie keeps his voice low and menacing, a nod to his DM charade he puts on for Hellfire Club. “You go around calling me a fairy like you aren’t the one who got his ass beat by the quiet, gentle photographer not that long ago.”

Steve’s face twists up in confusion. “Byers?”

“Mhmm. I thought you were supposed to be king. Oh—but wait—that title was recently taken from you, wasn’t it? By… who was it again? Oh, yeah, Billy Hargrove.” Eddie’s teeth ache around the name. If there’s anyone who gives Steve a run for his money being Captain Asshole, it’s Billy. “He’s the one I saw you rolling around with, all sweaty and topless in the gym, isn’t it?”

Steve’s face seems to stain red. “He’s on the basketball team.”

“I don’t know. It all seems a little”—Eddie waggles his fingers—“homoerotic to me. Wouldn’t you agree?”

It seems as if Steve has to physically swallow down his rage. Eddie knows it’s not safe to poke the bear, but he just can’t help how he gets around the guy.

“I don’t know what that means.”

Eddie scoffs. “Of course you don’t. Let me dumb it down a bit for you, Stevie. Put it in terms you understand.” He gets so close to Steve’s face that they almost bump noses. “Queer. It seems queer.”

Steve’s jaw visibly twitches, and Eddie can see that his fingernails are biting into the palm of his hands, much like his own. “I’m not like that.”

“You keep saying that,” Eddie condescends, “but each time it’s feeling more and more like an excuse.”

“Shut up.” Steve’s hands twitch at his sides as if they’re begging to be unleashed in a fit of rage. It should be enough to make Eddie back down.

But his own fists are trembling. And his heart is hammering. And he’s filled with a heat that he needs to let escape.

He takes a step into Steve, who stumbles back to create more space between them. “Is that what this is, Harrington? Some sort of coping mechanism?”

“Shut up.” Steve’s eyes seem tumultuous beneath their hazel irises. His skin is staining red. His jaw looks locked.

Just a few more words.

“Are you…” Eddie makes his voice sound mockingly disappointed. Disgusted. “Are you a fag?”

Steve’s composure snaps.

A fist full of Eddie’s t-shirt is suddenly clenched inside one of Steve’s unforgiving fists, tightening around the base of his neck, pulling him flush into the solid mass of Steve’s chest.

The breath is knocked out of him. His hands instinctually grasp around Steve’s grip as he’s virtually hoisted onto his tiptoes. Even though they’re of similar height, it seems that Steve is staring down the bridge of his nose at Eddie. He can feel hot breath puffing against his lips that smells as if Steve just had a smoke.

Eddie braces himself for impact—his own doing, really. But at least he got a word in edge wise. He knew he’d never be able to beat Steve in a fight.

But Steve just… keeps him there. Menacingly close. Bodies shoved against one another. His eyes bore into Eddie’s threateningly. Eddie feels a rush of endorphins, excited to see what Steve does next.

For what seems like ages, Steve doesn’t make a move. Eddie sees the bob of his throat when he swallows, and the angry glimmer in his eye extinguish. He drops Eddie’s shirt and takes a step back.

Eddie stares at him for a few seconds as he regains his footing. He’s not sure why Steve didn’t take his chance. There’s nobody else in sight. They’re even out of view from the closest road.

And for some reason… he’s disappointed. He knows he doesn’t really want a shiner. But the way Steve was staring at him—is still staring at him—he’s curious what might have come of… whatever just happened.

His body is still twitching with pent up energy, and anger towards Steve for the last years of his life that have been a living hell thanks to him, and Eddie already feels accomplished standing up for himself. So he takes it one step further.

Eddie looks straight into Steve’s eyes, and says, “Pussy.”

And he spits straight onto Steve’s white and red Nikes.

He turns before he knows what Steve’s reaction might be. He feels invigorated, and wildly in danger. And all he needs to do is get to his van, get out of the parking lot and he would feel like he won.

But Eddie barely makes it outside of his van before Steve is bulldozing into him, rougher than before. The metal wall of his van makes a hallow thump as Steve drives him face-first into it, one arm slung around Eddie’s neck in a chokehold, the other locking around his waist and elbows to immobilize him.

“You think you’re gonna spit on me and just walk away, Munson?”

Eddie squirms in Steve’s grip, shivering against the hot feeling of Steve’s breath so close to his ear. The wall of his van is cold as it’s pressed up against his cheek. And for some reason Eddie can’t explain, all he can think about is the press of Steve’s crotch against his ass, driving him forward, his fly dragging across his hip—

No. No.

That’s not what this is.

That’s not even what he wants. Steve is the bane of his existence, not some hot bar hookup in the alleyway.

“Fuck you, man. Get off me!” Eddie struggles against Steve’s grip. It shouldn’t surprise him how strong he is, considering the guy plays sports 24/7, but he’s a little taken aback when he can’t even get Steve to let up by one measly inch.

Steve only presses harder into him. Eddie’s cheek smooshes against the cold side of his van, probably smearing dirt all over his cheek. It’s been ages since he’s washed it. “You’re the one who fucking spat on me, Munson.”

“And I’d do it again,” Eddie growls, twisting his face up into what he hopes is an intimidating smile.

“Bullshit.” Steve ruts against Eddie so hard that his chin hits his van and snaps his jaw shut. But then, just as quickly, he’s free from Steve’s crazy wrestler’s headlock. He twists around as fast as he can manage, only to find that Steve didn’t step too far away. He’s just standing there, cockily, like he doesn’t believe Eddie could harm a single perfect hair on his head. “Do it then.”

Eddie gawks back at him, slightly phased by Steve’s dare. “What?”

“Try it,” he repeats. “See, I think past your hard exterior and don’t-give-two-shits personality, you don’t actually have the balls to pick a fight with anyone, let alone me—”

Eddie feels a fire travelling to his head. It’s uncontrollable. In a normal circumstance, Steve would be right; Eddie would like to remain lowkey, keep himself out of trouble. But he refuses to let Steve Harrington, of all people, bully him into backing down.

So he purses his lips and spits right onto Steve’s, cutting him off mid-sentence.

Eddie can see his saliva caught on the bottom of Steve’s mouth as it hangs open in stunned silence. It travels down his chin, and then across the angle of his jaw. Finally, it drips onto the pavement below their feet.

He knows he’s essentially started a war, so Eddie balls up his fists and waits for Steve’s next move. What he wasn’t expecting, was for Steve’s tongue to flick out and catch the bead of spit that still remained on his pout; and even less, him sucking that lower lip between his teeth to clean it off.

The breath is sucked right out of his lungs as Steve stares straight into his eyes and catches the collar of his shirt in his hand once more. There noses bump against each other. And their foreheads. And their chests.

“You fucking freak,” Steve says lowly. But it’s paired with his thigh shoving between Eddie’s legs hard enough that it makes his balls ache as his driven against the side of his van. He tries to stop it, but his cock twitches, the seam of his jeans rubbing against it in a frustratingly amazing way.

Something about the threat of violence mixed with friction, a body pressed against his own, a low voice growling in his ear, and an objectively attractive man, gets Eddie going. Even though he’s ashamed that he’s getting hot over a guy he was more than thrilled to see beaten to a pulp earlier in the year.

He wiggles against Steve’s thigh. It doesn’t help the throbbing between his legs. “Back away, Harrington.”

“Make me.”

“I swear to God…”

“What? You swear to God, what?”

“You have three fucking seconds, man!” Eddie shouts. What comes after three seconds? He’s not sure. But that’s all Steve has before Eddie does it.

The threat doesn’t help. Steve starts counting down with a sneer on his face. “Three… Two…”

All of Eddie’s pent up rage channels through his fist.

“One!” Eddie finishes, and clips Steve in the jaw with his knuckles. It sends a shock through his wrist, up into his forearm.

There are a few things that go through Eddie’s mind in that moment.

First, he’s wildly proud of physically standing up for himself. It has been years of letting guys like Harrington and Carver and Hagan touch him without repercussion. It’s time he got a real hit in.

Second—even more than being proud—he’s frightened. Because Steve’s gaze is so fiery that he swears he can almost see his eyes starting to glow red.

This brings Eddie to his third and final thought. That he’s about to die. Because Steve is going to fucking kill him. He’s kind of ashamed to admit that his tummy hurts from the nerves of it all.

Steve only stumbles backwards half a step, Eddie’s shirt still balled up in one of his fists, whose legs are still splayed around Harrington’s strong thigh. Steve’s free hand comes up to wipe at his lip, which Eddie now notices has a split in it that is starting to bloom red. They both stare at his skin stained up with blood as he wipes it away.

“You…” Steve starts, his eyes wild as they dart around Eddie’s face. “You made me bleed.”

Eddie swallows down his fear, manages to spit out, quietly, “You deserve it.”

Antagonizing a guy who has thirty pounds on him is probably not the best idea. But he’s already done the worst. Might as well really commit to the schtick.

He holds his breath. Waits for Steve to make the next move, which he assumes will be his own split lip, maybe another bruised cheekbone, maybe a broken nose.

Steve’s thigh presses even harder between his legs. Eddie’s balls throb against the pressure of it, the feeling of his weight bearing down on Steve’s leg, the solidity of his knee. Eddie tries to wiggle his way away from the pain, but it stirs something in the pit of his stomach. The familiar feeling of pleasure, a need for Steve to move against him.

Eddie makes a noise, soft and quiet. It could mean anything, really; that he’s uncomfortable, or scared, or even angry.

Only he knows for sure what it really means.

That he’s turned on. That his cock is twitching as blood starts to rush south.

And that he really needs to get off Steve’s thigh before he sees it. Feels it.

“Steve,” Eddie says desperately, his toes barely scraping the pavement below them. Each time he moves, it makes his dick pulse. He wants to wiggle away, but he knows it will only hinder him. And if Steve finds out that Eddie’s getting hard, he’ll probably be beaten within an inch of his life.

That’s why he’s shocked when Steve rams forward, and aggressively presses his lips onto Eddie’s.

There’s this moment where, rationally, Eddie cannot believe that Steve is kissing him. His mouth is parted in shock, he can feel Steve’s hot breath, his smoky tongue shoving deep into Eddie’s mouth, the distinct flavour of blood—a coppery tang—dancing on his tastebuds. And for a second—purely on instinct—he kisses back. The wet slide of their tongues gliding together, as brief as it is, makes Eddie groan into Steve’s mouth.

But then, reality strikes.

He shoves against Steve’s chest, forcing their faces apart. “What the fuck, man!”

Steve stumbles back, his leg finally dislodging from between Eddie’s. He wipes at the corner of his mouth, maybe to catch the blood, or maybe the spit. He looks wild as he stares into Eddie’s eyes. “What? You gonna hit me?”

Eddie clenches his jaw. His face is burning up. With rage, with desire. The line between the two is starting to blur. “It seems like you’re asking for it.”

“Maybe I am,” Steve says, with a glimmer in his eye that challenges Eddie. Some sort of silent communication. A dare, or… an invitation?

Eddie swallows down the feeling that this must be some sort of joke, that Steve’s trying to catch him in some sort of gay act that he can use as fuel against him to make his life a living hell. But Steve wouldn’t kiss Eddie just to get a reaction from him. He rationally knows that. But still, his eyes scan the parking lot, searching for any signs of Steve’s friends who might be waiting for the opportunity to jump him.

There’s nothing. No one.

His heart hammers in his chest as he makes a fast and impulsive decision, slipping the key into the back door of his van and prying the doors open.

Eddie points inside. “Get the fuck in.”

A few second pass, Eddie nearly drowning in nerves that maybe he’s reading the situation wrong. Maybe this isn’t some kink thing for Steve, maybe the kiss wasn’t a kiss and was… fuck, he doesn’t even know.

But he doesn’t have to worry too long, because Steve—jaw tight—pushes past Eddie, and hauls himself into the back of the van. His head bows under the low ceiling as he circles back, gives Eddie a look somewhere between inquisitive and angry, and then finally sits down on a crumpled blanket. His shoulders rest against the back of the passenger seat, his legs bent and spread in front of him.

Steve reaches down and squeezes between his legs, where Eddie just now notices the distinct outline of his cock, sitting sideways in his little blue shorts against his hip bone. Against his better judgement, his mouth waters.

A large part of him wants to ask Steve what’s going on. What he wants. How far this thing is supposed to go. Whether or not it’s a game.

But the other part of Eddie—albeit, the smaller one—already knows the answers to those questions.

He pulls all of his confidence out of the recesses of his mind, decides then and there that he’s running the show. That Steve likes him running the show.

“Pathetic,” he says, letting all of his malice towards high school jocks, towards Steve, seep into his tone. “You’re getting stiff from a split lip and my spit running down your face.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, just fists his fingers into the blanket under his body. He cants his hips forward, as if he’s answering Eddie. Showing him just how hard he really is by displaying the bulge in the front of his shorts.

Eddie holds back the moan that he desperately wants to loose.

He’s seen Steve in a state of undress before. Not completely, but enough to know that the panes of his chest are flat and solid, that his skin always seems sun kissed, even in the winter, that he has a patch of chest hair that he’s started to grow out since quitting the swim team. He’s always noticed the lump in the front of Steve’s Levi’s. Knew that he was packing from that alone.

But now he can see just how big Steve really is as his cock strains beneath his uniform.

Eddie takes a step forward, cocks his head to one side as he sizes Steve up.

“You’re a prick, you know that?” he says.

Another step forward.

Steve’s brows twitch inward, almost apologetically, but he still doesn’t say anything. Just stares up at Eddie with the biggest, roundest hazel eyes he’s ever seen.

Eddie shoves his boot between Steve’s Nikes, uses it to pry Steve’s legs further apart.

A small gasp escapes Steve’s lips as his knees fall open, the hems of his shorts riding up his thighs. Eddie lets himself ogle the strength of Steve’s legs, how the hair that grows on them thins on the soft inner portion, the closer it gets to his crotch.

He plants his boots on either side of Steve’s hips, bends down to grip his fingers in the red bow on the front of Steve’s shirt. “What a fruity little costume. Where’s your hat?”

Steve’s throat bobs as he swallows hard. “Pocket.”

“Put it on.”

Steve lifts his hips, his right hand reaching under him to fish out his uniform’s hat from the back of his shorts. Eddie tries not to tremble as Steve’s crotch gets closer to him. He suppresses the urge to sink down onto it, to feel the outline of Steve’s cock against his ass. To rut against it and listen to the noises he can ring out of Steve.

Steve quietly places the hat on his head, fidgeting with his hair, adjusting the way it sits. Eddie reaches out and smacks away Steve’s hand.

He condescendingly studies Steve, makes sure to really stew in the silence as he trails his eyes over Steve’s appearance, from the dumb hat to the dumb shirt, to the… strangely not dumb shorts. At least, not dumb in the way they fit Steve, the way they look riding up his thighs.

Slowly, Eddie sinks down onto his knees, hovering over Steve’s crotch. Only inches separate them, where Steve is hard and Eddie is now almost just as hard, and for a moment he thinks about how bazaar this all is. But he decides not to focus on that.

“Ahoy,” Eddie says, his voice low and amused as he flicks his fingers over the brim of Steve’s hat. He leans further down, feels the brush of Steve’s upper thighs against the ass of his jeans, hears the way Steve’s breath catches in his throat. He slaps away the dumb hat, watches it fly to the other side of the van. “Never mind. You look better without it.”

Then, he lowers himself the rest of the way, until he’s fully seated in Steve’s lap. Their faces are inches apart. Steve’s eyes are blown and glassy, and Eddie can feel the subtle twitch of his thighs as he presses himself harder onto Steve’s crotch.

“Shit,” Steve breathes. His hands loosen from their balls by his hips, lift up to instead splay on Eddie’s thighs as they clench around Steve.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Eddie laces his fingers through the thick top of Steve’s hair. He can feel the crunch of hairspray as he tugs Steve’s head back, exposing the long column of his throat. The tendons strain as Eddie twists his hand tighter in Steve’s locks, forcing his head sideways. “Seems a little gay to me, Stevie.”

“Shut up—Ah!” Steve cries out as Eddie tugs harder; he can feel the tension of Steve’s scalp as he forces his head so far back that the angle of his jawline is right by his lips.

Since the opportunity presents itself, he leans forward and drags his mouth against the line of Steve’s jaw. Steve smells like the remnants of the expensive cologne that still clings to his neck after his shift, like the cigarette he’d been smoking in the lot, like sweat and man.

It drives Eddie crazy, makes him open his mouth and nip down behind Steve’s ear sharply, then run his tongue over the spot he pinched when Steve whimpers softly at the pain.

“Look at you,” Eddie says lowly, trailing his teeth down Steve’s neck. He can feel his heart beating erratically under his lips as they trace his pulse point, can feel the bob of his throat as Steve swallows his nerves. “So excited to have another man in your lap.”

“I’m not gay.” The denial in Steve’s voice is genuine.

A part of Eddie feels bad, like he should drop it, like he shouldn’t push. But it feels good to make Steve suffer for all the years he said the same things about Eddie. At least this was between them. Eddie hadn’t been so lucky when he’d been called queer in front of the entire school.

So he lifts his head higher, bites on Steve’s lower lip, sucks on the split to force blood back up to the surface. He can tell it hurts as Steve twitches away, but he soon leans into Eddie’s kiss when it softens again, parting his lips to let Eddie lick deep into him mouth.

“No?” he says, pulling back from Steve even though the latter chases his lips with his own. “Then why do you love my tongue so much, hmm?” He grinds his ass against Steve’s straining cock, makes him moan into his face. “Why are you ready to bust from me touching you?”

Steve’s eyes flutter open. He looks conflicted, but past the point of coherency. “I don’t know. I—I don’t know.”

“You want to know what I think?” Eddie doesn’t give Steve a chance to respond, just lowers his face until he can feel the brush of Steve’s ear on his lips. He whispers, “I think you’re the fairy.”

“No!” Steve cries, but his hips grind against Eddie as he chases the friction he craves.

“Oh, baby.” Eddie circles his hips. He can feel the line of Steve’s cock getting caught on the back seam of his jeans each time he moves, Steve’s eyes rolling into the back of his skull like it’s driving him mad. “Then why are you about to take my cock into your mouth?”

Steve’s eyes go wide, and he starts to shake his head, but Eddie is already climbing from Steve’s lap, pulling him by the collar of his shirt onto his hands and knees.

Like a good boy, he stays where Eddie moves him.

“Take this off,” Eddie says with another tug of Steve’s shirt. He untangles his hand from the fabric, leans back to watch as Steve grabs it by the hem and pulls it from his shoulders. Steve’s abs flutter and tighten as he tosses his uniform across the van, and resumes his position on all fours. “Fuck. That’s good.”

Eddie straightens out on his knees. His belt clinks as he undoes the heavy buckle, Steve’s eyes bugging out when he undoes his button and tugs down his fly.

“I’m not—”

“Shut up,” Eddie interrupts.

Steve’s eyes are latched onto Eddie’s cock tenting his boxers, his pink lips pulled between his teeth.

Eddie leans forward, popping his thumb into Steve’s mouth instead.

“Open wide.” He pries Steve’s jaw open with a twist of his fingers. If he’s being honest, he’s not met with much resistance. Steve’s mouth just kind of falls open willingly. “Stick your tongue out.”

A small moan falls from Steve’s throat as his tongue lolls out of his mouth, dripping and pink, pushing on Eddie’s thumb. He runs it against the valley of Steve’s tongue, spreading around the little pool of spit that makes his cock kick under his boxers.

“Now stay still,” Eddie says, bringing his wet thumb to the front of his underwear. He shoves them down, his cock springing free so close to Steve’s face that he has a hard time not immediately ramming forward. He tucks the band under his balls, drawing them tighter against his body, creating a delicious pressure that makes him throb with want.

He wraps his fingers around his shaft, gently. He doesn’t want to work himself up too quickly, wants this thing that’s happening to last as long as it can. He knows his dick is already wet from how much he’s leaking, but he still brings his thumb—covered in Steve’s spit—to circle the slit of his cock.

Steve’s eyes watch, transfixed, as Eddie pulls away—a string of his precum connecting this thumb and the reddened tip of his cock.

“Jesus,” Steve says, his voice full of lust. His sticks his tongue back out before Eddie has to tell him to, a long rope of saliva falling from it onto the van’s floor.

Eddie is so hard that his cock is curving upwards, the veins under his skin so swollen that they seem as if they might burst. It feels like it’s a real possibility.

“How many cocks have you sucked before, Steve?” Eddie asks, carding his hand through Steve’s hair once again. He wraps the tendrils around his fingers, tugs Steve forward.

Steve shakes his head in answer, but he doesn’t close his mouth, doesn’t put is tongue back between his lips.

With his left hand, Eddie guides his dick towards Steve’s face. The tip of it grazes Steve’s forehead, then down the bridge of his nose. Across his cheeks. It leaves a little shining trail in its wake.

“That’s okay.” Eddie rubs his cockhead against the expanse of Steve’s tongue. He rings his fingers around himself, pushes forward until he milks a drop of precum from his slit. He wipes it so it mixes with Steve’s saliva in a little pool in his mouth. “I’ll teach you.”

He sinks forward.

The glide of Steve’s tongue is delicious as Eddie moves against it. There’s not a lot of anything, besides the heat and the wetness, but just the visual of it all really gets Eddie going. Steve’s eyes shine up at him, nearly black, never breaking eye contact even as Eddie watches him with unwavering attention.

“Fuck,” he hisses as Steve moves forward on his own. The tip of his cock glides against the roof of his mouth, inches towards the back of his throat.

Eddie pulls back, and rocks forward. Pulls back and rocks forward. Each time he moves deeper into Steve’s mouth he earns a noise from Steve, a hum or a grunt. Spit starts to leak from the side of Steve’s lips; he tries to pull away from Eddie to wipe at it, but Eddie tugs his head further forward and says, “Leave it. I like it messy. Oh my God, this feels good.”

He grips even tighter at Steve’s hair, pulls his head back before shoving him forward again. This time, he feels his cock hit the back of Steve’s throat. It constricts around him as Steve gags. And it feels fucking incredible.

“Shit, Steve.” He rams his hips forward, his cock spearing into Steve with a force that makes him wretch and spasm, makes his mouth go slippery with saliva. Steve’s eyes start watering—he tries to gasp for air when Eddie pulls back, but he fucks back into Steve’s throat before he can manage. “Your mouth…”

He pitches forward again, as deep as he can go. At this point, Steve is struggling against him, desperate for a breath as Eddie’s dick literally chokes him. He’s trying to tear out of Eddie’s grip, his eyes squeezed shut, but still rimmed in red as they stream tears. But Eddie has a vice grip in Steve’s hair, keeping him stilled as his throat pulses around his dick.

And Eddie knows he should back off and let Steve get some air, he knows he should give Steve’s throat a break from the assault of his cock ramming into it. But Steve’s nose is buried in Eddie’s pubes, his balls are pressed against Steve’s chin that’s sopping wet from how much he’s drooling.

And he likes seeing Steve struggle.

He likes that Steve is trying to escape. That the pleasure has probably toppled into a type of pain for him. He likes seeing how small Steve looks on his hands and knees, likes seeing him cry, likes seeing him break under Eddie’s will. He has the power, whether to let Steve breathe. And he doesn’t want him to.

Eddie ruts forward again, even though there’s nowhere for him to go. Steve’s throat tightens around him even more as he gags aggressively around Eddie’s cock, as he shakes his head back and forth, really grapples against Eddie’s hold.

“That’s it,” Eddie growls, the ball of pleasure coiling tight in his lower abdomen. “That’s it—fucking—swallow—"

Steve’s throat tries, but he’s not thinking clearly. His eyes spring open now, in fear. He hasn’t breathed for probably 45 seconds; his jaw is closing reflexively around Eddie’s dick, his teeth scraping sharply against his swollen shaft.

Eddie kind of likes it.

But as much as Eddie wants to push the boundaries, he finally retreats.

Steve starts hacking up a lung as he bows his head, catches himself on the floor with one hand while the other clutches his chest. He gasps. And then gasps, and gasps, and chokes on his own spit that falls out of his mouth in filthy little rivers.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Eddie says, because he literally cannot help himself when Steve is so wrecked in front of him. But to dilute the sentiment a bit he adds, “At least you’re good for something.”

Steve whimpers as he palms at his crotch. Eddie can see a dark blue patch where his cock has wept through the fabric of his shorts.

“Eddie,” he moans, squeezing at his engorged dick over and over again, chasing his own pleasure as if he’s right on the brink. Just like Eddie is.

So he liked getting his throat fucked.

Eddie feels his balls drawing close to his body just thinking about Steve’s desperation. He wants to touch Steve but he also wants to watch Steve suffer after all the shit he put him through.

“Turn over.” Eddie grabs his cock, strokes it as he watches Steve’s eyes go wide once again, face wet from tears and drool, lips swollen, cheeks red.

“What?”

“Turn the fuck over, dude. Now.” He grabs at Steve’s shoulder and digs his fingers into his flesh as he pulls him sideways.

“I—I don’t want you to fuck me,” Steve says, afraid again. But he follows Eddie’s direction, flipping over in the opposite direction. His slutty little Scoops shorts strain tightly over his ass, makes it look round and definitely fuckable.

As much as Eddie knows he’s already been a lot—would like to continue to be a lot, make Steve squirm and cry and fucking scream—he’s really not that much of an asshole to force himself on Steve when he says no.

But Eddie has no issues with making it seem like he is.

“Do you think I give a fuck?”  he says lowly as he bends forward to press his lips into the shell of Steve’s ear. “Arch your back for me.”

He straightens up, smacks his hand on the curve of Steve’s back, and pushes. Eddie pushed until Steve’s spine is bowed in, his cheek plastered against the blanket on the floor, his ass high and his knees spread. His other hand runs against the jut of Steve’s ass, grips into its flesh so hard that he’ll leave a handprint.

Steve moans unabashedly, his mouth hanging open and his eyes squeezing shut. His hands flounder to grab onto something, eventually stretching straight forward to grip at the base of the passenger’s seat. His hips push into Eddie’s hands like he wants more.

Who is Eddie to say no?

He curls his pointer fingers, tucks them under the waistband of Steve’s shorts. He tugs enough to slip them down a couple of inches on Steve’s hips, but not enough to strip him completely.

“This uniform should never have been approved,” Eddie muses, tugging the shorts down even more. Steve’s ass is halfway nude, Eddie ogling at the seam down his body like it leads to a pot of literal gold. “Why did they make these shorts so tight?”

“Just—just take them off, dude,” Steve pants from where he’s basically buried in the blanket by his head.

Eddie pauses, cocks his head sideways to stare down at Steve. “You’re not exactly in a position to make requests, dude. I’ll do what I want to do.”

A sound of indignity escapes Steve. Maybe a scoff, or a moan, or a whimper. Kind of a mix of all three.

“In fact,” Eddie continues, “maybe I’ll stop here. Maybe your shorts will just stay on the whole time.”

“No,” Steve cries in complaint as Eddie pulls his shorts back up onto his hips.

It’s not a real threat. There’s no way in Hell that Eddie would end this thing without getting a good look at Steve’s cock. He’s heard rumours in the halls of Hawkins High, wants to know if any of them ring true. Although, he can already tell by the thick outline between Steve’s legs that the rumour about Harrington having a massive dick is more than true. Overly true.

There’s a part of Eddie that wishes this wouldn’t be a one-time thing, even though every rational part of his brain is telling him it will be. He wants to find out if any of the other rumours are true too—if Steve really is good with his mouth, if he fucks like a god, if he’s able to go more than one round.

Some things, unfortunately, are bound to stay a mystery.

But for now, Eddie has Steve pliant underneath him, moving where he moves, bending where he bends. He’s going to enjoy it.

He grabs at Steve’s hips, brings them towards where his dick is still hard and wet. The tip of his length runs along the fabric, leaves a little wet trail where Eddie guides it over Steve’s clothed asscheeks, and then the seam down the middle of his shorts. He rams his hips forward, so his cock shoves between Steve’s legs from behind.

Eddie knows his cock is dragging where Steve’s balls are more than likely aching underneath his clothes. He knows he feels it too when Steve groans and shoves his ass even harder into Eddie’s hips.

“Oh, fuck.” Steve rocks forward, slams back once more against Eddie where his dick is nestled between Steve’s spread thighs. “Fuck, yeah, keep doing that.”

Eddie guides Steve’s hips roughly, starts fucking against Steve with intention.

The van rocks each time Eddie’s hips slap into Steve’s cheeks, the windows starting to fog up as they both pant into the stale air. It’s humid and muggy, everything feels sticky and damp, and it’s so incredibly hot. Eddie secretly wants to run his tongue over the panes of Steve’s chest, wants to trail it between the defined lines of his muscles like it’s some sort of maze. He wants to bury his face in the patch of chest hair that Steve has between his pecs, trail his mouth over his nipples, catch the beads of sweat that run into it from his neck.

But all of that is too much. He can’t do that with Steve, hasn’t even done that with anyone. Eddie knows he has to keep things impersonal, but that doesn’t stop his desire from rearing its ugly head.

“I want to fuck you so bad,” Eddie says, pitching his hips so far forward that he can feel the heat of Steve’s erection on the top of his own. His mouth runs away from his as he repeats, “I want to fuck you. Want to watch you take my cock.”

Steve whines, his knuckles going white from how hard they’re gripping the base of the seat in front of him. “No, I don’t—I don’t want that.”

“Yes, you do. You want cock up your ass—admit it. You want my cock up your ass.”

“No. No.” One of Steve’s hands fly backwards, grabs at Eddie’s hips. It holds him painfully close, enough that Eddie can feel the tremor in Steve’s thighs, the pulse of his cock as it sits untouched in his shorts.

“Think about how good it’ll feel, Steve. I bet you fuck yourself with your fingers all the time. I bet you wish it was me.”

Eddie can feel how close he is to coming. Ten seconds is all he has to decide what he wants to do, if he’ll stain up Steve’s pretty uniform and make it unwearable for tomorrow’s shift. It’s a tempting idea. But Eddie wants to feel Steve’s skin against him before he’s spent.

He pulls away from Steve; his cock bucking wildly against his abdomen from the loss of stimulation. It’s red and raw where he was rubbing against the fabric of Steve’s shorts, and Eddie knows it’ll be uncomfortable tomorrow.

No part of him cares.

“Take these off,” Eddie says, but he’s already pulling Steve’s shorts off before the other man can comprehend his words.

The seams pop as Eddie pulls them down Steve’s thighs, down to his knees where they draw close together from the restriction of the fabric. Which just won’t do, really, so Eddie tears them down further, until they’re pulled past Steve’s knee-high socks.

Those are definitely staying on, Eddie decides as he stares down at a completely naked Steve. It’s like something from a porno mag as Steve resumes his position, spreading his knees and arching his back, the slutty little socks the only piece of clothing left on him.

And from this angle, everything is exposed. Eddie’s eyes glue between Steve’s legs where is ass is spread open, his asshole winking up at him, pink and inviting. Lower, where Steve’s balls hang heavily, perfectly groomed. And past that, his prick, so fucking swollen that Eddie is perplexed how he hasn’t nutted ten times over in his own boxers.

“Holy shit,” Eddie says, stroking himself a few times because he physically cannot hold back when Steve is so goddamn pornographic. He takes his hand, drops his cock. Instead reaches forward and runs his fingers from the small of Steve’s back, down the seam of his ass. He stops at his hole, presses his thumb there. Feels Steve flutter against the pad of it. “I bet you’re so tight. Closeted guys usually are. Virgins, you know? At least where it counts.”

“I’m not—” Steve starts, but he cuts himself off when Eddie applies pressure to his asshole. He wants to slip his thumb inside, but he won’t do it unless Steve tells him to. “Fuuuccckk!”

Below their knees, an impressive pearl of precum pushes from the tip of Steve’s dick where it hangs between his legs. It reaches the floor before it disconnects from his body. Eddie wants to lick it up.

In fact, he wants to do everything to Steve—for Steve. He’s always been a giver. Loves the weight of a dick on his tongue, loves making a guy lose control and shout his name, loves the way cum shoots into his throat and coats his tongue in hot pools of white. He wants to fuck Steve and have Steve fuck him. Wants to teach him all the different places he can come from.

It’s not just a want anymore, it’s a need. But he won’t do it. At least not this time.

Eddie leans forward, tangles his hand in Steve’s hair for the second time tonight. Hauls him upright long enough that he can whisper into his ear, “I’m gonna fuck you, Steve Harrington. Mark my words. You’ll think about me every goddamn night until your fantasies just won’t cut it anymore. You’ll come crawling on your hands and knees begging for it. You’re gonna beg for my cock, Steve, and when you do, I’m gonna fuck the part of you that still thinks you’re straight right out of that dumb head of yours.”

Steve’s mouth hangs open and he fucking cries into the air, his eyes squeezing shut and his hand reaching for his own dick as it dribbles into the blankets under his knees.

Eddie doesn’t give him a chance to say anything, just shoves him face first into the ground. He gathers all of the moisture in his mouth and spits with perfect precision straight onto Steve’s asshole. The puddle of saliva gathers on the rim of muscle, until it flexes hard enough to force its path down his crack, over his perinium. It reaches his balls, leaves a little shining trail before it dissipates into his skin.

His hips surge forward, pressing the tip of his dick where his thumb had just been. A promise for a later date. But instead of pushing inside, Eddie ruts against the line of Steve’s ass, watching as the pink tip of his cock gathers the wet and slips above Steve’s tailbone.

“Gonna come,” Eddie pants, grasping at Steve’s asscheeks and forcing them closer together so they better hug around the base of his dick. His abs clench, and suddenly he’s seeing stars as he paints the moles on Steve’s back with his load.

His dick visibly pulses in tandem with his heartbeat, the veins protruding even more than before, the colour of it turning so red it borders on purple.

And he shouts so loud that his voice breaks, because he’s coming harder than he ever has in his life. More than he ever has in his life. The cum on Steve’s back gathers in the valley of his spine, all the way down to where Eddie’s dick is still twitching against the small of his back. Some even reached his hair, and Eddie can’t help but be smug that he ruined something Steve’s prides himself on.

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie falls back on his knees, his spent cock starting to soften as it hangs above his jeans. He tries to catch his breath, tries to stop the pounding in his ears that he genuinely thinks could make him pass out.

In front of him, Steve whines where he’s been left stranded.

The part of Eddie that cares wants to reach forward, touch Steve, get him off. He’s never left someone hanging before; it’s just not his style.

But this isn’t someone, this is Steve. The guy that made—makes—his life a living hell whenever he’s at school. Sure, it’s gotten better in recent years, but he’s never apologised for actively bullying him. For spending endless hours calling him a loser, and a dork, and a freak. For helping spread rumours that Eddie is gay.

And Eddie is smart enough to know that Steve is probably projecting his fears, blah blah blah. Eddie doesn’t give a fuck about that. All he gives a fuck about is that he has a chance to make Steve feel as forgotten about as Eddie has since he was in goddamn middle school.

So he takes a step back on his knees, starts tucking himself back away in his boxers as Steve cranes his neck to throw him a pleading look.

“Please touch me,” Steve begs. He rights himself so he’s facing Eddie, no longer on his knees. He spreads his legs, grips his cock so hard by the base that it looks like it’s about to pop. “I want you to suck me.”

The way Steve phrases that literally makes Eddie’s mouth water, almost has him bending to get on his knees and take Steve into his mouth.

He could get hard again just by the thought of it.

But he sticks to his guns, zipping up his jeans, doing up his button, languidly sliding the leather of his belt back through the buckle.

“Nah, I’m not feeling up to it,” Eddie says, which is a bold-faced lie, but Steve doesn’t have to know that. He shrugs his shoulders noncommittally as he fishes his smokes from his pocket, places one between his lips. “But I won’t stop you if you want to get yourself off.”

He hopes Steve takes the bait. He wants to watch Steve come, as much as it would still be satisfying to watch him scurry off with the worst case of blue balls he’ll ever have in his life.

Steve gawks at Eddie, his brows pinching above the bridge of his nose, so he gets that signature little crease when he gets all confused. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly.” Eddie lights up the cigarette and settles his back against the wall of his van like he doesn’t care whether Steve stays or goes.

But damn, he wants him to stay.

Steve’s (insanely) pink lips part. He looks so shattered that he might actually cry, which has Eddie feeling only slightly bad.

Not enough to change his mind, but enough that he’ll point it out.

“Please?” Steve says, voice desperate. “Is that what you want? For me to—to beg?”

Eddie doesn’t answer. He wants to see what Steve does without his instruction. Wants to see him humiliate himself without Eddie even having to ask. So he just takes a drag from his smoke and blows it towards Steve’s face.

“Will you—will you please touch me?” Steve pleads quietly. He strokes his cock lightly, not enough to make himself come because he’s obviously still hoping that Eddie will do it for him. “Please? Please, Eddie?”

What a fucking sight to behold, King Steve begging The Freak for whatever he’ll give to him. It almost makes him bend. Probably one more desperate word from Steve’s pretty mouth would convince him.

He almost hopes he’ll be swayed.

“No, Steve,” Eddie still says, his voice only wavering mildly. He hopes Steve didn’t catch it. “See, I think it would be pretty gay of me to get you off, you know? As one straight guy to another, I know you’ll understand.”

It’s a pretty low blow, but Eddie has never been above pettiness.

The apple in Steve’s throat bobs as he thinks through his options, his hand barely slowing from the miniscule touches he grants himself. He eyes the pile of blue clothing in the corner of the van.

Eddie holds his breath, begging the universe to make Steve stay.

“You’re an asshole,” Steve says. But he leans back against the seat, facing Eddie, and he starts touching himself intentionally.

“I learned from the best.” Eddie locks his eyes on Steve’s hand as he strokes his cock. His foreskin doesn’t stretch quite enough to cover the cherry-red tip each time his fingers ring upwards, but it moves with each pump of his hand, helps it glide over his skin. Eddie can’t help but choke out, “Shit.”

Steve’s feet plant themselves firmly on the floor, his hips tilting towards his fist like he’s chasing his own touch. His fingers loosen, reaching down to squeeze at his balls that look like they’re tight, like he’s already on the brink of coming.

“I wish you’d touch me,” Steve says softly, reverently, and Eddie thinks how unfair it is that Steve seems sweet. Like he could be sweet anyway, if he wasn’t such a cunt.

That being said, it’s the final straw for Eddie’s willpower, he can’t not touch Steve anymore. He’s never been a strong man, and it seems he’s found another weakness.

So Eddie snaps, he’s unable to stop himself from crawling towards Steve, whose eyes go wide with gratification and lust, like all his prayers have been answered.

Without a word, Eddie runs his hands over Steve’s fuzzy thighs gently, revels in how soft his skin feels, how pliant it is under his fingertips. It gets even softer as he slips his palms behinds Steve’s knees. They seem to unfurl, as if Steve is inviting Eddie to hook his arms beneath them.

So that’s exactly what he does.

Eddie hauls Steve up with all his strength. And Steve uses his own muscle as well, his abs going taut as he flings his legs over Eddie’s shoulders.

It might be the hottest thing Eddie has ever seen before—Steve’s stomach creasing as he pushes forwards, forwards, forwards until Steve’s nearly bent in half. And the sounds he’s making—these pathetic little mewls—are nearly fucking unfathomable, his hand slapping wetly against his flesh as he fucks himself raw, fast, hard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna come—” Steve’s mouth falls opens in a silent scream, his thighs tremoring under Eddie’s grip.

Eddie reaches forward at the very last moment, squeezes his hand around Steve’s cock right as he starts to cry out. It’s hot and thick in his hands. Smooth. Hard as fucking steel, but Eddie still rings his fingers so tight that the red crown squishes slightly under the pressure.

He stores away all of that information for later, knows already that he’ll make himself come to the memory of Steve’s cock in his hand, the face Steve makes when he tumbles over the ledge, the way his cum shoots with each wave of his orgasm.

With Steve’s gaping mouth, and his body bent in on itself, Eddie takes the opportunity to aim Steve’s cock towards his parted lips. They’re really only a few inches apart, considering the compromising position Steve is in. The opportunity presents itself on a silver platter, and it seems rude if Eddie just passes it up.

So Eddie aims it towards Steve’s lips as they fall open in pleasure, and he forces him to come onto his own tongue.

It’s probably the most erotic thing Eddie has ever seen; Steve’s cum paints his lips in white, his lungs heave, his voice escapes in tiny little ah, ah, ah’s each time Eddie’s fist pumps out another rope, and another, and another. Eddie can feel Steve’s dick pulsating as hard as his own did earlier. He can tell that he probably came as hard, too, by the amount of cum that fills his mouth.

Shit, Steve barely seems conscious of that fact. His irises have disappeared into his skull like he needs a goddamn exorcism. But he’s shaking like he’s currently getting one.

Undoubtedly, Eddie is rock solid again in the confines of his jeans, battling more fantasies about sticking his cock inside Steve before he has the chance to come down from his high, making him scream as he pounds his prostate and uses his cum to jerk his overly sensitive dick until it gets hard again.

It’s a very vivid image in Eddie’s mind. So much so that he has to drop Steve’s knees immediately or he’s just gonna… do it.

Steve gasps as his lower body hits the floor, watching confusedly as Eddie scurries back to the farthest corner. The spark of recognition flashes in his eyes, and Eddie can tell that Steve is now gaining some clarity, that he’s realising he, A: let Eddie touch his dick, B: just lost his goddamn composure enough that he was whimpering and shit, and C (Eddie’s favourite): has a mouthful of his own jizz.

It would normally be hilarious when Steve frantically sits up, swallows his cum (much to Eddie’s surprise), and starts grappling to find his discarded uniform that’s strewn in every corner of the van. Only, Eddie is dealing with his own revelations of, well, very similar things. Like… He just touched Steve’s dick. He made Steve whimper and shit. And, yes, he made Steve cum in his own mouth.

Everything is already a fever dream. There is no way. There is just… no way.

Eddie hauls his knees closer to his chest, makes sure Steve can’t see that he’s hard again. Suddenly, it feels pathetic, now that the heat of the moment has simmered back into something… cold. Whatever it was before.

Only now there will be this knowing between them. A shared memory of… of… this. Touching, and begging, and talking. The things Eddie said to Steve like he’s a guy that says stuff like that. It’s mortifying.

Eddie’s hands tremble as he reaches for the cigarette that was dropped on the floor. It burnt a hole in his blanket, but whatever, there’s a million more where that came from. And he lights it back up to hopefully stop the panic that’s starting to settle in.

Steve has already pulled on his boxers and his shorts, that have suspicious little trails of sticky stains. Eddie can’t look, so he focuses on the wall in front of him, and hopes Steve doesn’t notice the tremble in his fingers.

“Can you hurry up, dude?” Eddie says, because he needs to stick his head between his knees before he passes out.

Are things gonna be better at school next year because if this? Or worse? The same?

He can’t imagine that Steve would sick Jason on him now that he’s graduated. But there’s more impossible things that have happened in this world. Like, for instance, what just happened between them.

Steve knows Eddie’s for sure gay. But by basically fucking him, which should be a comfort to Eddie. Still, he’s worried Steve will somehow manipulate it into something bad, like he’s some sort of homo predator. Will he tell his friends, who will tell the whole school? Will Eddie’s life be miserable next year as he repeats his third time being a senior while Steve isn’t around to reap any of the consequences?

Steve pulls his head through his shirt, his hair sticking out in all different directions. Eddie swears there’s still cum on the side of his lips, but he doesn’t want to think about it.

“I’m—I’m going.”

“Go faster.”

Steve tumbles forward, trips over the balled-up blanket as he reaches for the back doors, his top still scrunched to expose a strip of his lower abdomen. But he makes it, flings open the van and flies forward, his face nearly kissing the pavement.

The cool air hits Eddie like a brick wall, but a welcome one. It reminds him that he’s a human and not just some buzzing ball of anxiety. So he leans towards it, takes a deep breath, opens his eyes.

That’s when he notices that Steve has turned around, that he’s stalling. He nervously fidgets with the red tie on his top, stares at Eddie like he wants to say something.

And for a minute, Eddie thinks he will. His lips open, and then close. And then open again. He gets that crease above the bridge of his nose. He cards his hand through the top of his hair that’s sweaty and sticky, and Eddie can tell he realises that as his face scrunches up a bit.

But he doesn’t. At least, not what he was going to say. His jaw just sets in the tense way it had been at the beginning of the night, and he says, “See ya.”

Turns towards his BMW.

Eddie doesn’t stay to gawk. As soon as Steve starts walking away, Eddie slams the back doors and scrambles to the driver’s seat. He doesn’t waist time starting his van, tires squealing as he pushes the clutch to its limit to make it shoot forward.

And once he’s back at the trailer and settled into bed, he pretends he doesn’t come three more times that night to the thought of Steve’s O-face.

***

“Can you please just give it to Steve,” Eddie begs for the hundredth time. Eddie’s throat closes up over Steve’s name, makes it sound thick as he speaks it. But he doesn’t really care. He’s too tired to care, and definitely too tired for this conversation.

Sleep had come so sporadically last night that Eddie almost called off work. But he needs the money, and needs even more to not look like a pussy who’s avoiding Steve after last night.

“I just don’t understand why you have Steve’s Scoops hat.” Robin quirks her brow, stares at where Eddie is extending the piece of Steve’s uniform that had been forgotten in the back of his van last night. It was comforting, in a way, to have physical proof that he hadn’t just completely lost his mind and made the whole thing up.

“I told you, I found it in the parking lot.”

“How do you know it’s Steve’s?” Robin presses.

“Because, it… it was near where he parked his car.”

“How do you know where he parked his car?”

“I saw him drive away last night.”

“But you didn’t see him drop the hat?”

“I wasn’t staring at Steve,” Eddie says with a scoff. Which is absolutely a blatant lie. He had done a lot of staring. “Why would I see him drop the goddamn hat?”

Robin picks at her fries. Eddie had purchased her food on break today, mostly because he didn’t have the energy to argue. And he also thought it might make her behave.

Neither of those things had worked out.

“I just think it’s weird.”

Eddie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “What’s weird, Rob?”

“It’s just… Steve has this cut on his lip, and a bruise.”

Eddie’s heart picks up in his chest.

Oh, shit.

“And?” he asks, dropping his eyes to focus on his now fidgeting fingers.

“And he said he got it from Jason last night. That they got into a spat.”

Eddie’s heart slows down the tiniest bit. Okay. That’s… yeah. He can work with that. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“He said that Jason met up with him after work. In the parking lot.” Robin’s eyes narrows and they zero in on Eddie. “After he saw you drive away.”

Eddie’s world stops spinning for a split second, realising he got caught in the lie. Of course Steve would have his own story. Of course it wouldn’t align with his own.

But, he knew even though Robin knew he was lying, she wouldn’t know why he was lying. I fucked Steve Harrington last night, is not something she’d expect. At least there’s that.

“I—I guess Steve didn’t actually drive away last night. I don’t really remember, maybe his car was still there. I just found his hat—”

“But didn’t give it to him? If he was still there?”

“I hate the guy,” Eddie says. It’s not a lie. Not really. “Why would I give it to him?”

Robin shoves a handful of fries into her mouth, chews thoughtfully. “Fair enough. But why would you even care enough to pick up his hat, in that case?”

Eddie can feel his face getting red. Can see that Robin notices it too, as she judges him silently from under her lashes. “Why are you pressing me about this?”

She shrugs, takes a sip of her Coke now. “I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t really matter. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

The clock strikes five. That’s their cue to pack up and head back to their jobs. The legs of the chairs squeak as they push them back into the table.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Eddie asks, tossing out their trays full of garbage.

They head towards Scoops and Camelot Music. Eddie makes sure to stay far on his side of the hall, so he doesn’t have to face Steve.

“I just want to make sure nothing happened between you and Steve last night that you’re not telling me about.”

Eddie nearly chokes on his soda, can feel it bubbling up his throat and nearly out of his nose. He doesn’t catch his breath until they’re nearly standing in front of Camelot, Robin staring at him with concern, but also with this unsettling sense of knowing.

“What do you think happened?” Eddie’s voice comes out raw after he hacked up a lung. He goes with this question, because he figures it’s better than digging himself into a deeper hole.

“I’m not sure,” Robin says, poking at the hat in Eddie’s pocket. She turns towards Scoops without taking it, leaving Eddie with a literal white flag hanging from the back of his jeans. “But I hope it was nothing bad.”

She glares at Eddie, turns her sights towards Steve instead. He’s standing there in a freshly washed uniform. Hair perfect, because there’s no hat to squash it down. He’s staring at Eddie and Robin, but as soon as Eddie catches him, he straightens up and looks towards the buckets of ice cream instead.

“Why?”

“Because—” Robin places her hat on her head. Hikes up her own socks that slipped down her calves “—he asked if he could take my closing shift again tonight.”

Eddie’s face ignites, his eyes flying towards Steve accusingly. Eddie can tell he’s a few shades redder than normal as he twiddles his thumbs behind the counter, pointedly not looking in Eddie’s direction. Like he knows exactly what beans Robin just spilled.

“Fuck,” Eddie cries quietly to himself. He grabs the hat again, one last attempt to hand it to Rob. “Please—just—give this back to him.”

Robin purses her lips, takes a few steps away. “Give it to him yourself, tonight after work. You guys need to work through whatever hatred you have for each other. I’m not gonna be the middleman anymore.”

Eddie’s hand hangs limp between them as Robin turns away.

But she casts Eddie one more look before joining a blushing Steve behind the counter. “Just don’t leave any more marks on Steve. He’s really not that great of a fighter.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything more. Just watches as Robin walks back to the ice cream stand.

Before he looks away, Steve’s eyes lift from his feet. They meet with Eddie’s, and they’re filled with a certain type on intention.

Eddie knows in that moment that Robin will be disappointed tomorrow, when Steve shows up to his shift covered in bruises.

Masterlist

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[aqricus]

SHAMELESS ! feat. bachira meguru

V SAYS . . . “bachira is greedy, especially when it comes to you, and he doesn’t care who knows about it.”

+ WC . . . 4.7k

+ sfw material. suggestive. character aged up 21+. fem reader. bachira is a little off his rocker. heavy(ish) makeout session. bachira likes lipstick prints. just take it, i’m too tired for real editing.

@m-ikage i can no longer be saved.

if there’s one thing you’ve come to learn about bachira, it’s that he’s selfish.

ever since your paths briefly intersected years ago when he was nothing more than a daredevil candidate for the national team with a tenacious streak and wild eyes housing an adrenaline-starved monster, he’s been self-centered. you’ve watched him from the sidelines, even if he wasn’t always aware, eyes analytical and inquisitive as you witnessed him storm the field with enough brazen confidence to shave four years off your life. it was evident from the jump that he preferred hoarding the ball, relying on his own abilities and viewing other players as experiments for his own personal gain rather than as teammates. you didn’t need to be perceptive to notice that the intense hunger for victory and superiority that flowed through his veins was palpable.

but, above all else, he’s selfish when it comes to your attention.

having been the first person to earnestly return his confession without regard to his idiosyncratic personality, he clung to you, craving to be showered in affection and reassurance that you do, indeed, still share his feelings. meeting and befriending like-minded individuals among blue lock was beneficial to healing his social detachment, but having a romantic partner was entirely different. the warmth that seeped beneath the old scar of loneliness was brand new to him. it was silken and ticklish, caressing the tips of his ears with heat every time you touched him, each word of praise or sentiment from you swaddling his brain in a honeyed varnish that left him tugging obnoxiously on your sleeve or whatever limb is closest just to ask you another question.

it’s intoxicating, leaving him desiring more and more of your touch, of your attention, of your time. he’s borderline obsessive, perhaps, in the passing—envious, bachira might also claim—opinion of certain teammates of his, but when you’ve always indulged his touchy-feely behavior, could you truly blame him?

even now, it's the same.

loose granules of cinder crunch beneath the sole of your sandal as you shift your weight from one leg to the other. the jumbled chatter and buzzing conversation swirling among bachira's team as they mingle a little ways away has dulled to nothing more than white noise as you focus your attention on rooting through the mess of miscellaneous items stashed in the bag slung over your shoulder. it's light, the straps not pressing too heavily into your shoulder. light . . . very light. almost too light, you notice with a furrow in your brow.

"something the matter?"

you glance up at the sound of a familiar voice to witness bachira separating himself from the sea of color-block jerseys with a slight, inquisitive tilt of his head and an easy upturn of his lips. you return his smile and shake your head. “no, i’m fine. i just thought my bag seemed a little lighter than i remember. it’s probably nothing.”

he hums and extends his hand without breaking eye contact, seeking your own as if out of habit. “you sure?” his fingers lace through yours. the pads are calloused from countless hours spent honing his chiseled physique and bear a slight chill against your skin. he lifts your hand and sandwiches it between his own as if attempting to shield it from the cool breeze wafting through the scenery. “mm, could just be nerves, y’know.” he muses. his round eyes spark with energy as he squeezes your hand between his own, energy practically rolling off him in waves and prickling along the light dusting of hair blanketing his arms. “i hear the team we’re gonna play is pretty tough!”

“yeah—”

“isn’t it exciting?” he exclaims abruptly, and your eyes soften.

whereas most people would be wracked with nerves when preparing to face a team rumored to be one of the most formidable on the field, bachira has always welcomed such challenges, rivaling them all with a ferocious tenacity and a drive to succeed. and, after spending all that time meditating in complete stillness and sharpening his mind’s focus before boarding the bus, it’s only natural that he’d be buzzing with such energy and enthusiasm. “i spent hours watching footage of their plays, so i know them like the back of my hand now. one of them is super good at dribbling, but i’m still better.” he boasts with a proud grin. “man, i can’t wait to crush them on their own turf! hey,” he leans forward until the tip of his nose is just shy of bumping into your own, gaze trained on yours in a moment of sobriety. his golden irises glimmer as he inquires, “you’re staying for the whole match again, right? you’ll be waiting for me?”

“of course,” your laughter is quiet, but his eyes sparkle, anyways. “i wouldn’t be anywhere else. i even brought—” your sentence is cut into silence when you’re struck by a moment of clarity, and your eyes widen as you finally recall the item absent from your bag. “my camera!” your hands wrench away from his with a gasp, and he makes a small sound of surprise at the sudden absence of warmth that engulfs his hands. the bite of your fingernails into his triceps when you grip at his upper arms is blunted by the polyester material of his jersey. but he doesn’t seem to mind, eyes instead darting feverishly over your own to analyze how dire the situation truly is. “i was gonna take pictures!” you lament to your boyfriend, a whine pitching your voice. “i was gonna be right up front, too! i wanted to print them out and put them in that scrapbook i bought. oh, my—how quickly do you think i can run?”

“pictures . . ?” bachira echoes, but his tone is remarkably less perturbed than yours and so low it can barely be classified as a murmur, as if the idea of you being his own personal photographer was too outlandish to process. ignorant to the way the cogs in his brain are rotating on overtime, you release your death grip on his arms with a groan and whirl around to face the cluttered rows of parked cars stretching nearly as far as the eye can perceive. but, bachira doesn’t seem even remotely interested in assisting you, all of his attention transfixed on the small wrinkle of frustration creasing your brow and the way the artificial light glistens off the fresh film of sparkly gloss overlaying your lips when you pensively press them into a line.

you’re unaware of the way his attention is trained on your side profile despite the intensity of his gaze, pupils constricted with a razor-sharp acuity that most would consider to be borderline predatory. his expression is completely neutral as his gaze sears holes into your temple, which would most certainly make the situation that much more unnerving and disconcerting—if you were paying enough attention to notice, that is. it’s as if his mind has stalled, suspended in limbo as he processes your words. “you . . . were gonna take pictures of me? and print them out? like, with ink and stuff? and put ‘em in a book?”

“why wouldn’t i?” you shift your attention back to him with little care for the off-putting way he’s surveying you, more aghast that he could even be so oblivious to how photogenic he appears whenever he’s focused on the game than anything else. granted, this would be your first time capturing snapshots of his time on the field with an actual camera instead of your phone; however, you both know that this definitely wouldn’t be his first time being photographed on the field. after bearing witness to the incessant clicking of shutters and obsessive fawning from the team’s fan base more times than you can count, you can say that with full certainty.

you hook your thumb beneath the strap of your bag and slide it higher up on your shoulder. “i take pictures of you all the time on my phone, as do your fans.” you explain casually, eliciting the pucker of his lips into a tiny ‘o.’ “i can promise you that there are at least a hundred people out there right now with personal photos they took of you taped to their wall. they . . . wait, you knew that, right?” you blink.

of course, he knew about his fans. after having numerous photos of himself and body parts shoved in his face, all vying for the opportunity to have his name scribbled across them in scarlet ink until his wrist ached, it’s impossible not to be aware of the spike in popularity that accompanies being a member of such a distinguished team. however, to have you, someone perched upon a golden pedestal of admiration and reverence in his mind, find such delight in his abilities that you wish to immortalize them is far different, and it makes his heart swell with pride. you really do like him, it seems. 

the suggestion of such a sentimental gesture only nourishes the pre-existing, vivid gleam of excitement alight in his eyes. plumes of fiery adoration seep through the depths of his gaze, bleeding all the way to his irises and trickling down his sternum to cause warmth to pool in his chest. this time, when he smiles, it’s unrestrained, and he does little to mask the faint flush of rose that scales the tips of his ears.

the thrum of his heartbeat now slightly more noticeable to him, he reaches for you. your attention shifts back to him at the feeling of his fingers curling around your upper arm. “is something wrong?” he wants to coo at the innocuous twinkle in your eye—so attentive yet unassuming, so blissfully ignorant to the underlying touch of mischief to the toothy grin curving his lips as he shuffles a step closer. 

sometimes, you tend to forget that bachira is romantically stunted from having dedicated himself to advancing his physical prowess, this exposure to a brand new situation causing his emotions to fester and swell without a proper outlet before finally manifesting in his own . . . interesting ways. even now, instead of attempting to vocalize his appreciation, his fingertips tingle with the urge to pinch your cheeks, to ensnare you in his arms and smush you against his chest until you have to fight for breath, to just engulf you until you feel him as intensely as he does you. he’s an ardent lover—always been, but that’s part of why you adore him so. 

“baby,” it’s the teasing, crooning lilt in his voice that you recognize as his hands start to drift toward your waist, a warning you’ve learned to identify that’s usually succeeded by some type of embrace or grip you end up having to struggle to escape. it lures you deeper, closer into range, his hold on you barely more than a whisper over your skin until the distance between you is short enough for it to snap shut around you, ensnaring you with an iron strength he has no business having.

he bears a playful glint in his eye and a ticklish touch to match, but you know better. “no, you don’t,” you laugh, palm pressing flat against his stomach to edge him back a step. “meguru, i need my camera.” you lean closer to place a chaste peck against his cheek, which, admittedly, was your first mistake. “you need to be with the rest of your teammates right now.”

your second mistake is lingering to offer him a warm smile. while bachira is sweet to you, you should know by now that he has no problem playing dirty. he tilts his head, teeth vanishing into a closed-lipped smile. “mhm!” however, as soon as you relax, he’s quick to take advantage of it. one of his hands clamps down on your hip before you can turn away, keeping you pinned in place. “but, only if you give me my kiss for good luck.” you’re not surprised at his attempt to bargain with you; although, with how firm his hold is on you, it’s less of a compromise and more of a demand. “it’s tradition.” he reminds you cheekily.

while that much is true, you both know that you would be more than willing to indulge him and uphold your little pre-game ritual, which means that, considering the way he’s taking extra precautions by holding you still, whatever is coming next most certainly entails more than one kiss.

still, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt, knowing that utilizing all of the time allotted for warming up his muscles is quite valuable to him—your third mistake. “that’s correct,” you agree. “but, i’m wearing lip gloss, and you’re about to head inside, so we have to be careful.” with that, you clasp your hands behind your back and tilt your chin to plant a brief kiss on his almost comically puckered lips. 

but, it’s not enough for him. the retraction of your head is calm, a sharp contrast to the desperation in his touch as the hand resting on your hip abruptly flickers up to cup your jaw and halt your withdrawal. “me—” your gasp of surprise is interrupted by the sealing of his lips over yours once more. the motion is uncalculated and uncoordinated, more spawned from a yearning for close proximity than anything else, but you don’t particularly mind. the press of his lips to yours is firm, the tip of his nose smushed against yours in an endearing display of inelegance that causes the corners of your lips to quirk upward into a small smile. his fingertips are alight with a lively heat that dances over your skin as they adjust into a more comfortable position, and you giggle against his lips at the ticklish caress of his thumb over the hollow of your cheek.

the moment you slip from his hold and start to turn away from him, regret begins to settle in, and you find yourself wishing to return to the warmth of his body when the crisp evening air rushes to engulf the ghost of his touch. regardless, you need to hurry up. unfortunately—or fortunately, whichever you may decide—you only make it a few steps before you feel the familiar weight of his hand on your shoulder once more, spinning you back to face him. 

the silent inquiry twinkling in your eyes is met with a spark of something ravenous, insatiable, puddles of vibrant gold sharpened to an acute point that pierces directly to your core. despite the secluded area of the parking lot and the clear inattentiveness of his teammates, you feel exposed—vulnerable—as if bachira’s gaze alone is intense enough to feel as if you’re being riddled with countless stares from every angle, each watchful eye stripping you down to your bare skin. it’d be unsettling if you were any less involved with him; but, as you relax in his hold, you’d figure you’re well-accustomed.

“meguru,” you chuckle, “i have to go.”

but, he wants more. one more kiss—no, two more, or perhaps three more if fortune deems him worthy. bachira knows you like the back of his hand—knows how to talk to you, where to touch you, and how to kiss you to sap your knees of their strength and leave you pliant enough to refashion your will to align with his. “one more, promise.” his voice is sticky-sweet, but his vow is empty, devoid of even a modicum of truth. it always is when it comes to your affection. just spend five more minutes with him in bed, give him one more kiss before you bid him farewell and head off to work, just let him hold you for one more minute—lies, all of them.

although, when you recognize his attempts to pour a year’s worth of reverence and adoration into such a simple gesture, you can’t quite find it in yourself to protest. so, you allow it, acquiescently tipping your head to connect your lips in a single kiss. but, just as you anticipated, he has no intention of releasing you just yet. every small, unhurried shuffle you take backward, he takes one forward, closing the distance you try to gradually squeeze between you. his presence is inexorable, curling around you and encompassing you entirely until there’s nowhere you can look—nowhere you can reach—that isn’t already occupied by him. he trails after you as if his body is operating on autopilot and all brain activity has idled, unabashedly—obsessively—pursuing you with the intent of stealing a kiss with every footstep if manageable. 

you can feel your resolve weakening with every brush of his lips, heart fluttering and limbs growing cumbersome as you try to focus on placing one foot behind the other. you know you’re a goner, as does he. any long-term resistance is futile. but, it isn’t until the tip of his tongue sweeps mischievously over your bottom lip that you cease motion altogether. your muscles tense, and your eyes widen as you sharply break the kiss, voice a tad breathless when you anxiously object, “wait—”

but, even if he hears you, bachira doesn’t seem to care. you’ve always been more cautious about monitoring the affection you two show each other in public, constantly worried about intimate photographs being snapped and stamped along countless tabloids and magazines with both of your names smeared across the headlines like a stain. you enjoy the privacy you’re afforded, something he can understand. but, he also reasons that it isn’t quite a good enough reason to keep his hands off you. he’s positive his extroverted nature plays a major role in his thought process, but in his mind, it’s quite straightforward—you two are together, and he will not allow anyone to influence that.

it doesn’t matter how envious certain fans may become or how much his manager may gripe about such a “distraction,” every external force and nagging complaint dwindles to white noise with the press of your body against his. you’re all his—his pretty girl, his sweetheart, his girlfriend, and he knows that there exist those who would cheat and steal to experience a fleeting slice of the treatment you lavish bachira with on a daily basis. why wouldn’t he want to show you off? 

with that, he tilts his head forward one final time, enveloping your lips in a kiss far deeper and far more torrid than any of the previous ones. you tense, a small murmur of surprise slipping from your throat, when you feel the slick tip of his tongue delve between your lips, coaxing them further open to allow him unrestrained access to every nook and cranny. his kisses are always energetic, overwhelming in the best way that leaves your knees wobbly and your brain buzzing from oxygen deprivation—this one is no different.

it’s as if you have to switch off conscious control of the rest of your body in order to focus well enough to maintain the fervent movement of his lips against yours. you know that if you fall behind, he’ll be quick to seize the advantage, and that is something you cannot afford right this moment. bachira is shameless with his affection, and only god knows how he’ll utilize any inch of surrender you offer.

you blindly scramble for purchase to balance yourself and manage to curl your fingers into the material of his jersey. the tight pull of the fabric into your fist is met with the feeling of his lips twitching into a grin against your own. contrary to his typical touchy-feely behavior, this time he doesn’t make any move to steady you, and your ears burn at the thought of him actually deriving amusement from your dependence on him after previously demonstrating such resistance. bachira is nothing if not impish—you knew this; yet here you are, hopelessly entangled in another one of his countless ploys contrived to submerge you in the same desire that courses through his veins on a nearly daily basis. he made sure you’d be fighting an uphill battle the moment you allowed him to lay his hands on you; and now, that’s crystal clear to you.

although, you aren’t sure whether the heat coalescing in the pit of your stomach is one of indignation or carnality.

“bachira!”

your heartbeat spikes.

someone’s acknowledged him. someone sees you.

all you can muster is a spark of strength, but it’s enough to break the kiss and retract your head. your stomach flutters at the sight of a strand of saliva webbing between your and bachira’s lips, and you hastily smear the back of your hand across your mouth to disconnect it. oh, god, please let it at least be someone meguru knows. the heat brewing beneath your clothes is almost stifling, the new twinge of desire at the apex of your thighs even more so, and you promptly swivel your head toward an empty area of the parking lot. it’s safe to say that you’re still reeling from your boyfriend’s bold ministrations, so you’re certain that one glance at your face will incriminate you. you exhale slowly. i can’t be seen like this.

you’re embarrassed to have been noticed, to say the least; but, bachira clearly is not. he reacts without any sense of urgency. his eyes twinkle as he observes you, watching you lean closer to rest your cheek against whatever part of him you can reach first. she’s warm, he notices as he lifts a hand to cradle the back of your head, his pinky grazing the nape of your neck. how sweet. his giggle is quiet, an unnervingly sharp contrast to his prior actions. you’re so cute; it makes him want to eat you up—to swallow you whole and keep you all for himself. tempting. instead, he tucks you against his chest and nonchalantly turns his head toward one of his teammates who has detached from the main group and is now standing a few yards away with his hands planted on his hips.

he doesn’t appear ruffled in the least at having caught bachira’s tongue shoved down your throat—more exasperated than anything else. “hurry up,” he advises, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder at where the rest of his team is still mingling. “we’re leaving in a few minutes.” 

“yeah, ‘m coming!” bachira calls back, as ebullient and carefree as ever.

his teammate starts to turn back, only to glance over his shoulder at the last minute. “and, wipe your face, too. the paparazzi will eat you alive.” he gripes.

wipe his face? you quizzically lift your head from its place nestled against him, only for your eyes to pop wide with horror at the sight. “meguru!” you gasp. his lips are framed with visible fragments of glitter from your lip gloss, saliva having trickled down to the point of his chin in rivulets of tacky translucence and kaleidoscopic shards. his jersey is a bit wrinkled from where you’d been clutching it, and you clumsily run your hand over the creases to try to smooth them out. “oh, my god, i totally forgot about the lip gloss. i—” you reach into your bag for a clean tissue or napkin—anything, really—and fish out a wadded napkin that seems otherwise untouched. “here, use this to wipe it off.”

“and let it all go to waste?” bachira lifts his chin a bit and touches his fingertips to his bottom lip with a cheeky grin, and your heart almost stops when he angles his face toward the more populated area of the parking lot. “don’t wanna. the color brings out my eyes.”

“what are you talking about? it’s clear—” your teeth close on the tip of your tongue, tension already beginning to stack in your chest. this isn’t new behavior by any means; he’s always had a strange fondness for having your lip prints stamped across his skin, whether it’s his cheeks, throat, or chest. and, it’s not that you don’t like it, no—it’s just that there cannot be a worse moment for him to decide to keep them.

“meg,” you reach for his face to squish his cheeks between your palms and turn his head back toward you, and his lips pucker at the fire in your eyes. “your fans will literally crucify me if you walk out there with lip gloss all over you. they’re insane.”

“ah,” you can tell he isn’t enthusiastic about having to adhere, but he accepts the napkin from you, nonetheless. “fine. but,” his toothy smile returns. “you gotta make it up to me when we get home, m’kay?”

“what do you mean?” your eyebrows furrow, perplexed. “you mean more kisses? i mean, of course, you can have more—”

but, you fall silent when he shakes his head. “nope. ‘s not all i want.” you don’t get the chance to ask for clarification before he’s inclining his head until his face stills mere inches from yours. your eyes flicker down to the space between you when he raises a hand to tap his forefinger against his cupid’s bow. you can’t bring yourself to avert your eyes, his gaze pinning yours in place. “i told you, i liked how it looked.” your stomach flips at his words. “sent a real good message, too.”

“but, you’re making me wipe it off.” he reminds you, as if the blame lies with you instead of his fans. you do like seeing your lip gloss on his skin; it proves that he’s yours. you just don’t want to have to deal with the consequences if photographs spread; because, while he’s not an actor or musician, he still has his own share of unsavory, possessive fans. “so, you gotta make it up to me by givin’ me some more after i win. one for each goal i score—and i get to leave it on.”

your brain idles for a split second. “that’s . . . what you want?”

“mhm,” he nods. “a favor for a favor. so,” he leans forward, bumping his forehead against yours. “we have a deal?”

you’re quiet for a moment, mulling over his words, before dissolving into soft laughter. to make a trade such as this, bachira truly is odd. but, you tilt your chin up to place a chaste peck to the tip of his nose. it’s cute. “we have a deal.” you agree with a smile. “now,” you press your palms against his abdomen to ease him back a few steps. “i’m getting my camera. your team is waiting for you.” this time, he doesn’t object and lets you go, but you can still feel his eyes fixated on your back as you begin your trek through the rows of vehicles. 

“actually . . . i changed my mind.”

you turn back at the sound of his voice to spot a roguish grin playing on his lips.

“the color. i want red, instead.”

#blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x reader #bachira meguru #bachira x reader #bachira x y/n #blue lock bachira #meguru bachira #blue lock #bachira x you

[kimbappykidding]

Other parts: Part Two, Part Three and Part Four.

Jeno was ready for a quiet evening at home. He shared an apartment with Jaemin but he was out for the night so he had the place to himself. To make use of this Jeno ordered a pizza, set up his gaming device in the living room and prepared for many hours of fun. About 2 and a half hours into his tournament the door went. Not the doorbell downstairs but someone knocking on his door and they were doing so frantically. Jeno was confused and a little worried until he looked through the peephole and saw who was standing there. "Y/n?" he asked opening the door.

You were Jaemin's twin sister but as you were born after him he always referred to you as his little sister. Being the same age the two of you were close and Jaemin never shut up talking about you! He loved you a lot and missed you like crazy when you moved away for university. You'd come back 6 months ago and Jaemin was thrilled...Jeno was pretty happy with you being around more too.

Jeno knew you from school. You were never interested in performing arts but went to a girls' school down the road from the school him and Jaemin went to. He obviously knew you as Jaemin's sister and always thought you were really pretty and cool. You were usually surrounded by friends but made sure to say hi to Jaemin and Jeno. Jeno remembered once, he saved the subway train for you when you were running late and you caught it just on time. You thanked him and it was the first time you'd looked at him directly in the eye. He thought you were pretty even back then and always had a crush on you...which apparently hadn't gone away since he'd become an idol.

"Hey" you said "can I come in?". You weren't slurring your words but Jeno could tell you'd been drinking and sensed something was up. "Yeah of course" he said and he noticed as he shut the door and locked it that you visibly relaxed and your usual smile returned. You were naturally a smiley jokey person and Jeno had never seen you genuinely sad or angry. You were also very confident and fun which Jeno of course had noticed. How couldn't he when a pretty girl started showing up and making him laugh and smile?

He'd never really seen you like this before and by that, Jeno meant in a dress. Sure you'd had a crappy skirt as part of your uniform when you were at school but that was years ago. Whenever you came over recently it was to have game tournaments with your brother Jaemin so you usually showed up in trackies and with your hair all scraped away from your face. But tonight you were in a dress and a tight pretty dress at that. Jeno couldn't help but stare as he never realised how toned your body was. You also had your hair and makeup done and just looked so pretty. Not for the first time, he wondered how you and Jaemin were twins. Jeno had always been fond of you but this was something else and he realised he'd never been alone with you before. The silence in the apartment seemed huge and he felt embarrassed just thinking about it.

"Is Jaemin here?" you asked and Jeno shook his head "he's gone out for the night". You sighed as he said that and looked down as if trying to work something out. "Are you okay?" he asked focusing on the matter at hand. You nodded "yeah I'm okay just this creepy guy wouldn't leave me alone and we weren't far from here so I told him I lived here and managed to get away from him and sneak in here just as one of your neighbours was coming out. It was very lucky". "What the fuck?" Jeno asked jumping up "is he still here?". "I don't know, he was knocking on the door downstairs asking me to let him in when I was coming upstairs...". Jeno swore again and grabbed his jumper. "What are you doing?" you asked and he shrugged "what does it look like? I'm going to go put some sense into that guy, harassing girls like that". "No don't!" you said nervously "I don't want him to hurt you". Jeno smiled "you think I'd lose?" Jeno asked, his pride a little hurt. "I don't know" you admitted "but even if he gets one punch on your face your stylist would be pissed" you said. You were a makeup artist for Hybe so it made sense you'd think of this but Jeno liked to think you genuinely didn't want him to get hurt. Jeno smiled again "then I won't let him get a shot on me". You still looked worried and Jeno sighed "fine I won't go" he said and again you visibly relaxed "you won't? Good! We're safe in here and if I just stay a little until he leaves..." when the buzzer went.

You both looked at it and waited for it to end but it just kept ringing. You shook your head "that's probably him". "There's no way that's him!" Jeno said and he pressed the call button. There was a two-way camera but your side was hidden and you were both standing around the doorbell screen when the image flashed up. "That's him" you said and Jeno shook his head and answered the call.

"Can I help you?" he asked in his most intimidating voice. The guy blinked and then with no shame asked "do you have a girl called Y/n up there? She said she way staying here". "yeah she's with me, I'm her boyfriend and why have you followed her home?" he asked. "I've not!" the guy said even though he literally had. "I just wanted to make sure she was safe, is she there? Not that I don't believe you I just want to make sure she's safe". "Yeah she's here" Jeno said and he gestured for you to come to him. You did and Jeno opened his arms. He rested one hand on your waist and pulled you close to his chest. He pressed the camera switch and glared "now you can see she's here, she's safe, she's more than happy so you can leave and if I ever see you near her again you're dead" and Jeno hung up.

You both stayed frozen for a few seconds after the screen went black and then you let out the breath you'd been holding. "Wow thank you" you said looking at Jeno and he shrugged "you're welcome, I'm glad you came here. You can always come here if there's anyone bothering you". You nodded "thanks Jeno" and he smiled "no problem". It was at that moment you both realised you were still standing together and you apologised as your hands were still resting on his chest. "Sorry!" you said "I didn't mean to feel your chest". Jeno chuckled slightly "It's fine, I grabbed you pretty suddenly too". "Yeah but it was nice" you said "I mean because it felt safe. To have your arms around me after being with the creep". Jeno nodded and ignored all the suggestions going around in his head because you were still Jaemin's sister. "No problem, if you ever need any more help with him just text me" he said. "I would but I don't have your number" you said with a smirk and Jeno smiled and gave you his phone "put it in and I'll go find you something to wear". "Wear?" you asked and he nodded "you're not going back out there while stalker Steve is out there. You can sleep in Jaemin's room" and he disappeared into his room.

You put your details into his phone and then wandered into your brother's room. Jeno appeared shortly after with a t-shirt and some shorts. "They might be a little big but I figured they'd do the job" he smiled "feel free to use the bathroom too. Anything on the side is fine and there are brand new toothbrushes under the sink if you want to brush your teeth". "I'm sorry but what boys' apartment has new toothbrushes already there for when you need a new one? Males can plan in advance?" you asked. "The good ones can" Jeno replied purposefully omitting it was Jaemin's idea after that one time they both binned theirs and the store was out of them for a week. You laughed and Jeno could feel your eyes on him as you toyed with the clothes he'd brought you. He wondered why you were watching him until he realised you probably wanted to get changed.

"So can I get you anything else?" he asked and you shook your head "thanks Jeno you've been amazing...definitely the favourite out of my brother's friends". "You mean I wasn't before?" he asked and you shook your head "no but that's only because Jaehyun exists". Jeno paused "oh you're into Jaehyun?". "What girl isn't?" you asked "with those big shoulders and cheekbones he's so sexy...but Jaehyun's never saved me from a stalker before so you definitely jump to first place". Jeno smiled "I'm so honoured. Are there any perks for first place?" before realising how they sounded. "You want a prize?" you asked and Jeno blinked "no I was only joking". You looked him up and down before nodding "hmm shame" and then turned and strode into the bathroom leaving Jeno staring after you.

Jeno's heart was beating rapidly and he didn't get how one word could make him so crazy. Jeno gathered all his things from the living room and retreated to his room. He felt all flustered around you so figured this would be safer. He heard you moving around as much as he tried to ignore it and eventually fell asleep an hour after you'd gone quiet.

The next morning Jeno woke up to hear a soft banging and recalling you were here, he jumped up worrying it was the stalker coming to bother you. He rushed into the kitchen to find you cooking at the stove. You looked super cute in his shorts and he stared at you from behind for a few seconds before he spoke "Y/n?" he called "what are you doing?". "Jeno!" you said happily and spun around to face him before pausing and it was then that Jeno realised he was topless. He slept shirtless and forgot to grab a shirt in his rush to make sure you were okay. He felt a blush form on his cheeks as you looked over him before smiling. You turned around as he rushed to get a shirt but as he went he heard you say "yeah Jaehyun who?" and that comment really made him happy.

Jeno returned fully clothed and tried this again. "Why are you cooking?" he asked. "I thought I'd make you breakfast as a thank you for rescuing me" you said and Jeno shook his head "you don't have to do that...but out of interest what did you make?" because it smelled really good. You smiled "go take a seat I'll bring it through now. You have perfect timing apparently".

You gestured to the balcony and Jeno saw you'd set the table casually but it was still way nicer than when he and Jaemin ever did. You appeared a minute later with two plates and passed Jeno one "here, from looking in your fridge I guessed you're a bacon fan?" you asked. You knew your brother didn't like it much so deduced the huge amount of bacon in there belonged to Jeno and were correct. "Very much so" Jeno said and looked anxiously at the bacon to see how you'd cooked it but was pleasantly surprised. "I like it this way too" you smiled seeing his expression and tumbled into the chair next to him. Jeno smiled to see your plate just as full as his and he couldn't help but admire how strong you looked. You clearly didn't subscribe to the idea women had to be super thin and fragile and he thought you looked glorious...so much so he actually forgot about his bacon and you had to remind him. "Well go on don't leave me in suspense, take a bite" you said and Jeno nodded "right" and took a big mouthful. You were staring at him, wide-eyed, and Jeno quickly swallowed and nodded "it's good" and you smiled pleased. The food actually was good but Jeno would've easily lied and eaten the whole thing because your smile was incredibly charming.

Jeno very much enjoyed his breakfast/time with you one-on-one and found it easier to talk to you by the end of it. He liked how there was still tension between the two of you but he could also talk to you and learned more about you. He'd always wanted to ask you questions but he never dared approach you when Jaemin was around and so you'd remained an elusive figure until now. He thought past schoolboy Jeno would be stunned to see future him sitting chatting to you and even managing to flirt a little. It was progress indeed.

After breakfast, the two of you did the washing and drying together and were just finishing up when the door opened and Jaemin entered. "Y/n!" he said seeing you and then he spotted you were in Jeno's clothes and paused. You could see the misunderstanding forming in Jaemin's eyes and decided to nip it in the bud. "So last night I had this stalker and Jeno got rid of him and let me stay over. How sweet is he?" you asked. Jaemin immediately relaxed and smiled at his friend "thanks Jeno and Y/n are you okay?". You nodded and explained things to Jaemin who was just as furious as Jeno. The two were debating how best to get the security footage to share with police and came up with multiple plans which made you smile.

You had to leave soon to get ready for work and Jaemin insisted on driving you home. After he'd arrived he'd steamrolled the conversation and your attention was on your brother. So Jeno retreated to his room after saying goodbye and was starting to plan his day when there was a knock at his door.

"Hey" you said appearing "I just wanted to tell you I'll take the clothes home and wash them so I haven't stolen them I'm just cleaning them". "You don't have to do that" Jeno rushed to say "I can do that, plus it's not like you're dirty or something". You smiled "I know but I figured I could drop them off sometime later in the week...it'd given me an excuse to come back and visit you" you said "unless you don't want that?". Jeno swallowed because you were definitely flirting with him! He heard Jaemin call your name asking if you were ready to go and you smiled "want me to leave them or take them?" you asked. "You can take them" Jeno said and your smile made his day.

Later that day at work Jeno still wasn't over what had happened and when Jaemin left he told the guys (minus Jaemin) everything. "It was weird" Jeno admitted "Y/n came over because she was having some problems but that's not the point. Things were supercharged between us and she was so flirty with me!". Jeno expected the guys to gasp at the idea of Jeno flirting with you but they didn't. "Oh yeah Y/n's flirted with me before" Mark said and some of the other guys said you had with which bothered Jeno. Not because he thought you had but because the guys didn't seem to get this was different. "Yeah she's a jokey person but this was more than that, she was so full on". "Yeah Y/n's like that" Haechan said and Jeno's frustration worsened as Mark began telling the story of the time he commented you looked good in red and now anytime you wore a red outfit you'd make a beeline for him. Jeno didn't like how Mark clearly thought you were into him and even though he'd only had one moment with you, he needed the guys to understand whatever they thought had happened was meaningless compared to his moment with you.

"No you don't get it this was beyond flirting this was really... physical" Jeno said "We were pressed up together and she didn't move away until she felt she had to and then the next morning when she saw me topless she totally checked me out. I think she wanted me!". The guys all looked at him and then Haechan started laughing "yeah right!". "Yeah are you sure this wasn't a dream you had about her?" Chenle asked. "Of course it wasn't a dream it really happened!" Jeno said. The guys however just kept teasing him and then when Jaemin appeared let the topic drop without any protest.

The guys all clearly thought this wasn't a big deal at all but Jeno couldn't drop it. He tried not to think about it because it was only one occasion but he couldn't help but pause every time Jaemin's phone went and kept asking Jaemin about his plans hoping they'd involve you. Slowly it did get slightly better...he stopped thinking about you as much and that's of course when you re-appeared.

Jeno was on tenterhooks wondering when you'd come over but finally, you texted him one day asking if you could meet him after work one day to give him his clothes back. Jeno immediately scrambled to work out a day that was best for you and suggested Friday which actually worked perfectly. You agreed to meet him in a cafe around the corner from his work and Jeno was nervous all day. He didn't tell Jaemin in case he thought it was weird or asked to come. He didn't tell the guys because he worried they'd tell Jaemin so he sweat in silence.

Of course to make things worse rehearsal overran and Jeno was stressed! They weren't allowed phones so he couldn't text you and he was so worried you'd think he'd stood you out. He took off running the second rehearsal was over and texted you he was on his way. He reached the cafe still out of breath and was relieved to see you still sat there. He rushed over to you and you looked up as he got close. "Y/n I'm so sorry I'm late, thank you for waiting. Rehearsal overran and I couldn't message you, I'm really so sorry". You smiled "Jeno it's fine, I figured that's where you were so I'm not mad. I get you can't just drop what you're doing when you're done. You didn't need to panic, I wasn't going to storm off if you were a little late. I know you're a nice guy and weren't blowing me off". "Oh..." Jeno said feeling surprised "thank you". You smiled "you're welcome, now do you need a drink? You look like you just ran here" and you paused when you saw Jeno's face "you ran here?". "I didn't want to keep you waiting" he shrugged and you smiled "well relax now, sit down and I'll go get you a drink". "Wait no let me pay for it" Jeno said but you just pushed him back into his chair "no, you need to get your blood pressure back to a normal level" and you walked away not giving Jeno time to argue. He watched you go and put his hands in his lap.

You placed a cold drink in front of Jeno minutes later and then took a seat across from him "so how has your day been? Apart from the last-minute stressing?". "It's been busy but good" Jeno said "we've been learning the choreography and that's my favourite part of any song". You smiled recalling he was a really good dancer "yeah that makes sense, you always were a really talented dancer". Jeno blushed "have you ever seen me dance?" and you paused. "I've seen you in music videos Jaemin showed me" you said "but never in person no. Why are you inviting me to your next rehearsal?". Jeno went pink at the thought and explained rehearsals weren't allowed guests. "Okay so a private performance then?" you asked and Jeno went even pinker so you smiled and told him you were joking. "Don't worry, I'm sure I'll see you dance live at one of your concerts someday". Jeno nodded "yeah we can get you tickets anytime you want to come along so just let me know". You nodded "I will do" and Jeno calmed down enough to return the question "so how's your day been?" You chatted more and Jeno fought out a lot more about your job. It was weird hearing you talk about Seventeen and it made him a little nervous to think you were around guys like Mingyu and Jun all day but you didn't seem interested in them like that...or so he hoped. You ended up staying in the cafe for a few hours and Jeno didn't even realise it had gone dark outside. He insisted on driving you home after last time and led you back into work where he'd left his car. On the way inside who called out to him but Jaehyun?

Jeno cursed because he really didn't want to have to introduce you but there was no avoiding it as Jaehyun called out his name. "Jeno? I thought that was you, what are you still doing here?" Jaehyun asked. "Oh I went out after work and I'm just coming back for my car" Jeno explained and Jaehyun nodded and looked at you. "Hi" he smiled "I'm Jaehyun, I work with Jeno". You smiled "nice to meet you I'm Y/n, I'm a fan of your music". Jeahyun smiled "thank you that's really sweet to hear. Are you an idol too?" he asked unsure as he looked at you and Jeno didn't blame him. You were a stylist and definitely cool enough to be one. You shook your head but seemed pleased with the compliment "no I work for Hybe, I'm a makeup artist". "Ahh that explains it" Jaehyun said and your smile grew. Jeno felt very awkward and wasn't sure what to do to stop you and Jaehyun. He was sure this was his shot with you over but then you spoke. "Yeah I thought of applying here but none of you guys seem to need makeup at all. I saw Jeno without it the other morning and had to do a double-take he looked so good. You all just have perfect faces or something". Jaehyun smiled "well I can personally testify I don't but yeah Jeno does". Jeno blushed as you both looked at him and tried to say he didn't but you didn't let him.

After teasing him for a bit, you went your separate ways and Jeno led you to his car. Jeno's heart was still beating rapidly from your compliment and the implication you'd seen him without makeup in the morning. It was like you were leading Jaehyun to believe the two of you were a thing. Jeno felt better for the interaction now and the smile Jaehyun shot him as you walked away made him confident Jaehyun thought you were together and Jeno liked that thought.

He liked it very much.

"Today was fun" you said in the car and Jeno nodded "yeah it really was!". "Maybe we should hang out again?" you asked and Jeno's throat went dry at the thought but he must've looked okay with the idea because you kept going. "You're into gaming right? Maybe we could hang out and do that sometime?" you asked unbuckling your seatbelt as you reached your house. Jeno nodded "I'd love that!" and you smiled. "Great, I'll text you" and you hopped out of the car. "Bye Jeno!" and with a gorgeous smile you walked away.

Jeno felt like all his high school dreams were coming true and he couldn't wait for what the upcoming week would bring.

He knew if you were there, he'd be happy.

That's part 1 of my first Jeno series! I discovered NCT-Dream quite late but liked Jeno from the start. I think he's stunning and like his tough but shy personality.

This will be a four-part series and I will link other parts at the top of this page.

#jeno #jeno fic #jeno imagine #jeno x reader #jeno x female reader #jeno nct #nct jeno #nct dream jeno #jeno nct dream #nct dream #nct dream fic #nct dream imagine #nct dream x reader #nct dream x female reader #nct dream x y/n #nct dream x you #jeno x you #jeno x y/n #nct jeno fic #nct jeno imagine #nct jeno x reader #nct dream jeno fic #nct dream jeno imagine #nct jeno x you #nct jeno x y/n #jeamin #jaemin and jeno #kpop #kpop fic #kpop imahine

[coffeeadict61]

Humans Are Weird: Female Rage

Report: #298

Topic: Female Rage

Rage: Violent or uncontrollable anger.

I have studied the human race for months now but today is the day I have learned to fear them. Forget their unpredictable bodies, or overly complex inventions, or the horrific moments that crowd their history. It was only today I feared for my life in the presence of a human being.

I often record anger in incident reports and the like, but women make up a very tiny proportion of that. They tend to "keep their cool" ( a human turn of phrase) better than men on average. This doesn't seem to be a natural attribute but more of a learned survival mechanism against violence and abuse. It only seems to break the surface in grief or after years of trauma. But the new astrophysics intern Colette [Last Name Redacted] showed me a new human emotion. Rage.

Our ships astrophysics department was partnering with our engineering department to design a small weapons craft to protect us from the "space pirates" or looters we keep encountering. I had created a bond of "friendship" with little Colette, I suppose little doesn't fit. She is above average height and slightly underweight, (she is having trouble adjusting to our menu due to "texture issues" which I need to educate myself on). Moving forward. She came to speak to me on a very serious matter a week ago exactly while I was on my daily rounds. This was the reason I was behind schedule, she has, and I quote, "little legs" in comparison to mine. Colette spoke of the weapons project she had been assigned too. She spoke at length about her supervisors who wouldn't listen to her. She had discovered a bug in the engine system. A four that looked like a nine or something of that nature, and believed it to put the test pilots in danger. She requested that I ask management to promote her so that her voice would be listened too. I tried to calm her worries but she was insistent so I told her I'd try to bring it up in the next meeting. That meeting was yesterday. In the six days between our conversation and my turn to give my reports for the management council, I had talked myself out of my promise. I figured that her superiors knew best and she was just ambitious and maybe she didn't see what she thought she saw. Regardless, it is the biggest regret I carry.

The test flight launched today. The entire crew was given an hour additional break to watch. Colette tried to prevent the launch, arguing with the head scientists, trying to show them test she ran digitally, but they had security pull her back. She came to find me, asking if I spoke to management. I didn't answer. The announcer counted down in human numerals.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 LAUNCH

I breathed a sigh of relief as the craft glided safely away, but Colette didn't, she didn't move an inch. The projects leader gave instructions through a radio. The experimental engines roared to life. Then, a moment of silence. Before the entire space craft was engulfed in a cloud of fire and gas. The silent explosion shook the floor beneath us as gasps and screams gave it a voice. The entire crew was killed. Many of them, friends or family of the onlookers. The onboard medic, the project leader's son and Colette's young husband. She collapsed to the ground sobbing, unable to stand on her shaking legs. I couldn't get her to move. I didn't try very hard.

Security swarmed the crowd, pushing them back from the windows and herding the grieving crowd to the different living areas. Many had to be carried. I carried Colette.

Hours later, after an emergency meeting and a meal, everyone was in bed. All but the council, security, the engineering department,and the astrophysics department. We sat in heavy silence as the project leader explained the error that lead to this tragedy. I studied him closely. No tears, just a stone cold face and a tremor in his hands. Suddenly the doors crashed open as Colette burst in. She wasn't grieving now. Colette grabbed the microphone from the leader's hand and threw it at the wall. It went straight through. Then she spoke. Shaking slightly, controlled rage gave the impression of bullets falling from her mouth with each syllable. "Murderers. You are all murderers." No one moved as we took on the weight of her statements. She spoke again but this time it was wasn't controlled. This time her rage wasn't an undertone but the message. This time she screamed it in a voice that echoed around the room and shook with each new sob.

"I TOLD YOU! I FING TOLD YOU THEY WOULD DIE! WHY DIDN'T YOU LISTEN TO ME?! HOW COULD YOU KILL THEM LIKE THAT?! IT'S YOUR FING FAULT!"

She broke anything within reach. A mug, "THEY WERE YOUR TEAM!" a chair, "WHY DIDN'T YOU PROTECT THEM?" a table, "YOUR OWN SON AND YOU STAND HERE CALLING IT AN ACCIDENT!" her voice. "IF YOU HAD BELIEVED ME AND MY EVIDENCE INSTEAD OF PLAYING F***ING POLITICS…"

She stopped. She stopped screaming, stopped crying, stopped expressing her pain. She bottled it up and wiped her face with her sweaters sleeve. She just stared at him. Taking deep breaths as he shook under her gaze. "Why didn't you listen to him? To me?" He fought back his tears and straightened his jacket. "Abe knew the risks-" Colette stepped forward and punched him hard, his nose making an audible crunch. Blood stained her knuckles as she hit him again and again. Finally I got up and grabbed her around her middle, pulling her off before she went to far. The leader whimpered and leaned on a table as she fought to get to him. To tear him apart. Finally she just stood rigidity holding onto me. "Never say his name again. You aren't his father. You're a murderer and you never deserved Abraham." She spit at his feet.

"Coward."

I pulled her out of the meeting hall, locked her in her quarters, and stood guard. I relive her plea for me to approach the council on her behalf. I cannot deny my part in the crew's death and doubt I'll ever forgive myself. Colette will surely never forgive me either.

In conclusion, I advise the guilty professionals and researchers transferred and tried. Both for the safety of our crew and themselves. Their professional licenses should be revoked no matter the outcome of their individual trials. We also need to form a mental health department and start providing dietary options for all diets and sensitivities. I also advise (though I recognize my lack of authority on the matter) that crewmember Colette [Last Name Redacted] be released of all charges and assigned a personal therapist of her choosing. As for the other loved ones of our lost crew, they should also receive support options and memorials for their lost and any other requests we can fulfil. I pray we never have a similar story to tell the next generation.

Human Observer #5743

#Humans are weird #humans are space orcs #Its a sad one folks #Sorry its long #space #Aliens #space travel #human observer #5743 #new report #Colette #please read #I worked really hard on this #female rage #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #I had a lot of coffee today

[emmyrosee]

IM GOING TO SAY THIS 😘 AND THEN IM GOING TO RUN. 🏃🏻‍♀️VERY FAR AWAY, 💃DO NOT LOOK AT ME, DO NOT PERCEIVE ME OKAY??? AVERT YOUR EYES AND FORGET THIS EVER HAPPENED. I’m exposing myself here again 🤩

…so I would like to be chased… by one of our boys… yes I said OUR. 🤧 BY KUROO. THE FIRST BOY IN HAIKYUU I FELL IN LOVE WITH.

but. I want him(.) to just give you a look?? randomly??? that screams “run” EITHER when he’s in a playful mood (maybe he’ll work you up a bit first, get you into the same playful mood he’s in with some teasing. bc we all know HE’D BE SO GOOD AT THAT. SLY MF.) OR bc you’re in a super high energy mood and need to be dealt with. and you get chased around after, adrenaline SO high. what happens when you eventually get caught? who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️ (he knows)

and and and he might just make it fun, if you manage to hide from him, he’d turn it into a game somehow. Literally do not look at me please. stop it, look away. I’m embarrassed for some reason. But if I’m gonna expose myself I’m at least gonna do it where I feel SAFE (your ask box). And Ik I won’t be JUDGED (bc we are of similar mind when it comes to our boys I feel like). (and maybe after the makeshift hide and go seek game there’s cuddles on the bed and super sweet kisses and just lots of softness from your big baby of a bf who just wants to have childish fun with you :((( cause he loves having fun w the love of his life ☹️) this was a mess bc for some reason when I’m sappy like this I cannot articulate what I want to say properly :(

THIS IS LONG WOW!!! and once again, NO RUSH AT ALL!!!! PUT IT ON THE BACK-BURNER ITS TOTALLY OKAY!!!! it’s just a funky little thought after all 😋

anon <3

GOD I LOVE OUR BOYFRIEND!!!!

So here’s the thing right? Here’s what’s cool about Kuroo- arguably, the only thing cool about Kuroo bc he’s a dweeb.

Basically, his entire life, he spent messing with people, but his real practice and the reason he’s so good, is because of Kenma. His first victim, but also the one who he learned the art of body language and subtleties about communication. It’s something Kenma warned you about when you first started dating, but judging by the immediate ruffle Kuroo have his hair, you know Kenma wasn’t being too serious.

So, because of the pudding head I adore so much, Kuroo knows exactly how you’re feeling regarding certain play fighting tactics, or if you’re not in the mood when he can then go gentle and just have you in his arms.

He’s cool like that.

For example, just four days ago, you clearly needed a small jostle of playful affection, some playful attention, but you were so busy to ask and just let it go. But tetsuro knew better; he could see the way your breath would hitch when he’d make you laugh, or bring you food and gently rub your back. His touch seemed to jostle you; you just wouldn’t give in.

He’s fed up, and he’s gonna make you give in, he’s made that clear.

“Hey booger,” he hums, strolling in and hooking his chin over your typing shoulder. His eyes flick to the glass of water he poured you hours ago, seemingly untouched and sweating onto the coaster. “Have you taken a break yet?”

“Don’t need one.”

“Liar.”

“Do not start with me, Tetsuro,” you mumble, putting pressure on your temples. “I just need to bang this out and be done with it. I’ll be done in a few hours.”

He goes silent. And you pause your fingers before looking over your shoulder at him.

He’s not happy.

“Did you just sass me?”

He can practically hear your heartbeat pause in your little chest. Still looking at him, you shake your head. "Are you sure? Because, like, it feels like you sassed me."

He sees the cogs in your head turning. He sees the way you're trying to fight back your smirk.

"So you can figure out when I'm sick of you."

"Gonna make you real sick of me," he snarls, and just as he makes a threatening dart towards you, you shriek and dash away, abandoning your work and searching for a place to save yourself.

Because you know Kuroo is going to save your work. And tidy up the space, and book mark your page, all before making true on his promise and sprinting after you.

And like... you're never hard to find, and that's indicator #2 that you want this more than anything.

When he finds you on the opposite side of the bed (like, seriously? you have so much better than that in the arsenal), he just manhandles you onto the bed, your smacking palms and kicking feet doing little to deter him.

“Tetsu!” You squeal, writhing uselessly under his heavy grip. His hands only tighten as he shakes you playfully, back hitting against the pillows and mattress.

“You! Are! The best! Thing! In! My life!” He chants between words, ignoring your giggles and squirming. “Stop! Sabotaging! Yourself!”

"I can't help it!" You titter, trying to bat him away as best as you can given your pinned position. "I-I-I just want things done!"

"They'll get done!" He growls playfully. then, like an absolute asshole, he buries his face in your neck and fingers into your ribs, "fucks sake, when was the last time you peed, dawg? Huh? Maybe I should just make you do it now."

"NNNAAAAOOO!" You howl, so loud his own ears hurt, but he doesn't stop his fingers, nor the nibbling of your neck and ears that're light enough to tickle but some will definitely stain your skin.

OOF BUT THEN????BU-BUT-BUT T H E N???

He lets you get away.

For one second, he pretends that the knee to his gut hurts, and he's out of commission for the next three seconds, and it always gives you enough time to scurry away to another room.

He knows you're not going back to your work set up. You're at your own mercy when it comes to needing his playful side, and he hears you down the hall, giggling in anticipation as you try to hide.

"Gettin' too old for this shit," he chuckles to himself, then strutting down the hall to look for you.

he just. i just. i he. just he i.

KERNFWIDNBWIEFBQ

#i wanted this to be longer but i couldn't connect them together cohesively 🥺💔 #but let the record show that in theory theres more to this LMAOOO #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader fluff #kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsuro haikyuu #kuroo #kuroo fluff #kuroo x reader #kuroo x reader fluff #kuroo x gn!reader #kuroo imagine #kuroo haikyuu #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x yn #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n

[ghostly-penumbra]

DannyMay 2023. Day Thirty-one

"Free Day"

Ao3

Warning: (Continued) captivity. Puking.

- - -

When Jason was kidnapped by the Ghost King, less than twenty-four hours ago, he didn't think he would be sleeping for a while, but maybe the stress of the kidnapping and the subsequent thrashing of Danny's —his jail-mate, it seemed— room (with Danny's enthusiastic permission and encouragement) had left him drained enough for him to doze off briefly —or maybe dissociate, which would be understandable—, and he came to himself still sitting in Danny's sofa, whilst his jail-mate sat on his bed —out of arms reach—, hands on his knees and gazing at nothing.

Jason groaned, rubbing at his eyes through his domino mask.

"Good. You're awake."

Red Hood looked sharply back at Danny, who was now looking at him with the trace of an awkward smile on his face, when just seconds ago he had looked, well, dead.

"Are you- hungry? Do you need anything? Other than freedom, that is, can't give ya something I don't have myself."

Jason snorted despite himself, and that got him a more genuine, if still small, smile from his jailmate. He stood up and wobbled on his feet, taking a hand to his head and cursing softly at the sudden dizziness. "Shit."

"You okay, man? How are ya feeling?" Danny asked him, coming warily closer.

Jason ignored him and sprinted to the door that he had deduced led to the bathroom, and soon enough he was kneeling next to the toilet, barfing his guts out with an intense, burning acidic feeling going up his throat.

"What the fuck is that?" He asked in between heaving, ragged breaths.

Whatever the fuck had been inside him was a dark green mottled with red spots of blood and smelled of decay and rot.

"Ugh; not good, is what it is." Danny, who had been hovering a couple of steps away, said. "Is that all of it, or is there more?" He asked.

Jason was about to snap that he was fine, mind your own business very much, but his words caught in his throat, and a determined expression set itself in Danny's face.

He flushed the toilet, and knelt behind Jason, placing both hands on his shoulder-blades, sending a pulse of cool energy and something else to him, and said, his voice even, "Get it all out, don't hold a thing back. I got you."

And with that little push, Jason resumed throwing up, getting rid of that putrid ooze, with Danny's hands a balm that spread to the- to the very core of him, making it bearable.

Once he finished and Jason was back in his jail-mate's couch, taking hard, open-mouthed breaths and with said jail-mate pressing a cold glass of water on him, he managed to croak again, "What the fuck was that?"

Danny put the glass in Jason's hands and made sure he wouldn't drop it before he answered, "For the looks of it, rotten ectoplasm."

"... what?"

"Think of running water, if water had life-preserving, life-giving, and resurrecting properties," Jason's eyes widened in recognition, and with Danny looking at him, he must have seen it even with his domino on, "now imagine it going stagnant for, how long?"

"... centuries." Jason answered.

Danny made a face at that and recoiled. "Crude." He said. "How long…?" He asked again, and once again, Jason knew what he meant.

First, though, he emptied his glass of water, feeling the cold liquid sooth at his sore throat. "I was fifteen back then, so, four years."

Danny whistled low. "Dude, that's like- that's just- damn! How did you survive that long with that clogged in your system?"

"With unpredictable, uncontrollable bursts of blinding green rage, of course." Red Hood snorted with annoyance.

"That's… one way your body may have tried to get rid of it…"

"Dude, what are you going on about?" Jason asked now.

"Look, man, I'm really no expert, I'm not a doctor of any kind, but my parents are, and I've been around the Zone for four years now, so I know a wee bit about us halfas and-"

"What's a halfa?"

"... sorry, what?"

"Halfa. The other guy said it too, when we summoned him. What is a halfa?" Jason said it clearly, looking Danny in the eye.

Danny opened and closed his mouth once, twice, only to end up groaning in distress and holding his head in his hand.

"Four years without clean ectoplasm, it tracks, it tracks." He said, obviously to himself. Red Hood's jail-mate breathed in deeply and looked back up at Jason. "Okay, we're gonna start from the beginning, but I need you not to flip out, yeah?"

Nodding, Jason sat up, "Lay it on me." He said, determined.

And so, Danny did.

… later, if Danny was upset that his room now sported a fist-shaped dent, he didn't show it.

#Danny Phantom #DPxDC #DannyMay 2023 #DannyMay2023 #dannymay #day thirty-one #free day #Jason Todd #Danny Fenton #Halfa Jason Todd #Ghost King Vlad Masters #ghostly-scrypts #lmao half a month late but here it is #captivity #puking

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Yay fellow aroace!

I love cute moments too! Yours are so adorable as well!

So uhm… maybe a little sis annabeth being protected / being taken care of by her older cool sis?

I loved the punk Jason concept as well so maybe something similar? Thank you so much if you do this!

And yeah! Byeee

🖤🩶🤍💚

Thanks so much for this ask even though it's been sitting in my inbox for centuries lol I have so many asks and little motivation but this one was so close to done, that's why the endings a little rushed &lt;3

Bite me, bitch boy--- Annabeth Chase/Protective older sister!reader

»»————-　★　————-««

-Annabeth got to camp when she was seven. She became the cabin counselor at nine. 

-Who in their right mind let a literal baby be in charge of eight bossy, snarky, far too intelligent and prideful demigods? Who said, ‘you know what this cabin needs? A child to run it!’

-It was safe to say that when you got to camp at fifteen years old and soon after got shoved into a wooden cabin full of unorganized folders and sheets of paper and books, with three toothbrushes [eight kids???] and a mini fridge with literally nothing in it, you had something to say.

-Specifically to Chiron, who reassured you that you could of course speak with the cabin counselor about how the children of Athena were living, once she got back from her quest.

-Oh, so maybe there was a proper leader here, they were just away. That made sense, they’d be smart, and obviously knew what they were doing. That shut you up for a few days, and put up with the fact there were no lights out and your little brother hadn’t showered in two weeks. 

-Then a scrawny, angry at the world, little girl came back with swinging braids and far too sharp a knife for a twelve year old, carting behind her a traumatized school boy and a very hungry goat.  

-Your expectations took a dip.

-After your new little sister was tucked into bed and you finally figured out how to threaten your siblings into shutting their books and going to sleep [Spiders, spiders were the key.], you marched straight back to Chiron and demanded a union.

-You didn’t get one. 

-So instead you did some spring cleaning. While your siblings were out showing off their wits and picking strawberries, you stacked up every piece of paper in the cabin and threw out all the random things from three years ago, organizing everything away neatly into the bookshelves and filing cabinets no one had thought to use yet. A deep clean began, and you probably held up the laundry near the infirmary for a good four hours. 

-You found an old cork board in the stables that Butch [he was nice, even if he only talked about Pegasi and a comic called Heartstopper] let you take, and pinned up everyone schedules on it, instead of where they had been washi taped to the bathroom mirror. One of your brother's school reports appeared in the mini fridge as well, so that got pinned up too. 

-Said mini fridge was filled with water and strawberries that Malcom brought back, along with mud that got tracked through the fluffy rug you’d exchanged with Silena for the third volume of Butch’s comic. 

-Annabeth glared at you with those stormy eyes that everyone in the cabin shared. 

-Apparently, as the head counselor of the Athena cabin, she was supposed to be the one doing all the things you’d done, and she did not appreciate your disrespect for the rules or her position.

-Once she found the wafer biscuits in the minifridge you’d grabbed from the camp store after Katie got one of the old ipods you’d brought with you to camp after finding out about the wifi rule, she calmed down a little.

»»————-　★　————-««

-Annabeth was fuming.

-How dare you just… come into her cabin and take over?

-How come all her other siblings didn’t seem to mind that you had this one really cool tattoo on your thigh and seemed to be allowed to just wander into the camp store and take stuff, because apparently Katie owed you something and the Athena cabin got free wafers?

-And somehow Clarrise decided not to dunk your head in the toilet on your first day [Percy was unhappy about that as well, but seaweed belonged in water anyway. He didn’t like that comment either.] because something about Silena and hearts stopping? 

-Annabeth was supposed to be in charge, and now you were going to the camp counselor meeting instead and forcing Annabeth to lay in bed all day with a box of tissues because a temperature of forty degrees wasn’t normal. You even brought back a bag of those cheetos that the Stolls always dug up for meetings for her. 

-It sucked.

-So she decided to let some of her anger out in the form of beheading each and every dummy propped up in the arena. 

-Stuffing was scattered around on the sandy floor and Annabeth could feel beads of sweat on her dark skin. Her knife was flecked with the blood that beaded on her palm after clenching her knife too tightly for too long.

-A few Iris kids were casting rainbow mists that faded into droplets of poison on the other side of the arena, and she was careful to avoid them as she whipped around and got one of the dummies in the back of the neck, which would kill any normal person not sewn together by a bored teenager.

-Of course the sawdust billowing up wasn’t helping her stuffy nose or unfocused eyes because actually that dummy’s torso looked like a great pillow but then she was tearing out its insides because she wasn’t sick. 

-She refused to let you be all cool and right and big sister-y because Annabeth was in charge, she didn’t need a big sister to make her hot chocolate before bed when she had to finish a model for Hecate's new potion shop on Olympus and take spiders out of the bathroom because somehow you didn’t find then as absolutely terrifying as the rest of them did.

-The braid that hit her cheek felt like a spider leg in that moment and Annabeth fell back with a yelp, pulling all her hair behind her shoulders and breathing hard, her glinting knife near her feet.

-It was shiny and metallic and there were spider legs and then she was running, sprinting and puffing and following that arachnid-like robot from Hephaestus through the Labyrinth before they all lost it and got stuck walking in circles and circles and circles with spider legs crawling over her skin that were in her lungs-

-Shit. 

-Deep breaths, that was all she needed to do. Annabeth pushed a fist to her chest and rolled her shoulders back, trying to blink away the image of the metallic spider crawling over her shoe.

-There was a cackle of laughter and she righted herself. She wasn’t sick. She wasn’t scared. And she was not going to be laughed at. 

-She turned but her braids were still touching her and they were crawling over her and she couldn’t breathe because the spiders were on her but she wasn’t scared and she would not be laughed at and her knife fell out of her hand and-

-”If you don’t leave right now, I’m rostering you all on for clean up duty in the kitchens tonight, and I’m telling Butch it was you guys who let Olive and Clover out onto the lava wall!” 

-”He won’t believe you, and you can’t boss us around, newbie!” Someone yelled, and Annabeth pulled all of her hair back, a gray streak in the corner of her was tucked behind her ear. She felt like throwing up when the heat washed over her skin, prickly as a cactus. 

-”Bite me, bitch boy!” You snapped, and there was a clanging of metal and then a yelp.

-Silence filled the arena as Iris kids shuffled out, but Annabeth lost track of them a moment later because there was four of them and then eight and then twelve and then it hurt her head too much to count and suddenly there was two of you marching up,a shiny spear speckled with poison rainbow droplets. 

-You dropped the spear and Annabeth couldn’t see much else because everything was grainy and full of static and the heat on her dark skin was crawling with spiders and itchiness.

-Annabeth stepped forwards, the ground coming a lot closer to her face than she planned. 

-She gulped down a cry of pain and squinted up at you, then tried to tell you to fuck off, because she wasn’t sick. It only came out as a pathetic mumble, and she lay limp, glaring up at you foggily.

-You smiled, and Annabeth tried to take it patronizingly so she could continue hating you. But it wasn’t patronizing, even when you spoke softly, “Come on, let’s get you back in bed.”

-Annabeth huffed as she was carried out, “Mnuhsick.”

-“Percy and that funny goat boy are waiting.” Your smile was patronizing then. “They brought Hidden Figures and Legally Blonde.” 

-“Msick.”

-“That’s what I thought.” 

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #Percy Jackson and the olympains #annabeth chase #Annabeth Chase x reader #Annabeth Chase pjo

[thewertsearch]

CEB: wait… CEB: are you saying that vriska is interested in me? CEB: like, romantically?

I think she thinks she likes you, the same way she thought she liked Tavros. In her eyes, you're a potential replacement for him, which is a dangerous position to be in.

In short: yes. But watch out!

CTG: do you like her CEB: well, like i said, i thought she was pretty cool… CEB: kinda bossy! but also pretty friendly. CTG: yeah ok CTG: but i mean CTG: anything more than that CTG: like CTG: if earth wasnt destroyed and she werent in some other universe on a planet full of unspeakable frothing dipshits CTG: and she was on earth visiting your town or something CTG: would you want to ask her to go see one of your dumbass movies

Dave is actually helping John talk through his feelings, which is sweet as all hell. His instincts around this are surprisingly good, too - it probably would help John to separate his feelings about Vriska from his current situation.

Try to divorce yourself from the session, just for a second. You're not John the Player - you're John the teenager, and a girl likes you.

What do you think about her?

CEB: i don't think i have ever actually liked a girl before in that way, so i am not really sure what i am supposed to feel or do…

Grew up in a small town in Suburbia, USA.

Raised by a single father who struggles to relate to him.

No extended family to speak of, unless you count the ecto-sister he learned about an hour ago.

Has a social circle consisting of three online besties, and never mentions any IRL friends.

Uses stilted phrases like 'not a homosexual', and is so confused by his own feelings that he can't identify a crush.

John Egbert is a very sheltered kid, is what I'm getting at. I wouldn't be surprised if Karkat and Vriska were the first people who ever had crushes on him. This is all completely new to John, and I don't think has the slightest idea how he's supposed to respond.

Dad's great, but if John asked him for relationship advice, he'd tell his son to get a decent aftershave and a well-pressed suit. He's flying blind, and things will only get more complicated from here on in.

CTG: did one of the human ladies reject you ?CG: OF COURSE NOT. CTG: how did it go did you stand in a quadrant like you were playing four square CTG: holding a bucket full of flowers or slime or whatever and jade was like no thanks bro

I mean, he might have started with John, but he seems to hate Jade quite a lot, too.

We now know this was after his confession to John. Maybe it was a rebound?

CTG: or maybe it was a guy who rejected you ?CG: FUCK OFF. CTG: haha wow bingo CTG: see how i look right now thats a poker face might want to take some notes ?CG: I SEE NOTHING BUT A COWARD BEHIND DARK EYEWEAR CLEARLY DESIGNED FOR WOMEN AND A PAIR OF IMPUDENT LIPS PURSED SO TIGHT IT'LL SOUND LIKE AIR SQUEALING OUT OF A BALLOON WHEN I PUNCH YOU IN THE GUT.

Pursed lips?

Karkat. No, Karkat, look at me. Do you have a little crush on all the human kids?

You do, don't you. Oh my god, you do. Just stay away from Rose, or Kanaya will chainsaw you in half.

?CG: AND JOHN, PURELY HYPOTHETICALLY, IF ONE OF US IN THE FUTURE DOES MAKE SOME SORT OF SOLICITATION YOU DON'T QUITE UNDERSTAND… ?CG: BECAUSE OF PERHAPS SOME CULTURAL DIFFERENCES ?CG: I MEAN NO ONE IN PARTICULAR HERE ?CG: MAYBE TRY TO UNDERSTAND THAT PERSON MIGHT NOT BE THINKING TOO CLEARLY AT THAT MOMENT

Karkat, you're killing me here. I'm dying. You don't get any Boondollars from killing a liveblogger, Karkat.

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #s69 #2790

[ouroborosgirlcocks]

Doesn’t Matter

Little something I wrote up because sleep was being rude. Necro, cannibalism, incest.

Enjoy

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Should’ve fixed the fucking bed ages ago. Honestly it was irresponsible having her sleep on it when it was so fucking loose.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

No point now of course. Didn’t matter. Very few things seemed to.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

The guilt tried to matter. It really did. But it failed.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

It was an accident anyways. She should’ve cleaned her room. She was a teen now, why the fuck did she have shit scattered everywhere.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Could’ve happened to anyone. A slip, a fall, a crack. Then nothing.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Her daughter didn’t care about anything now. Corpses tend not to. She thinks. Pretty sure they’re supposed to be cold but her cock feels like it’s burning.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Dancing around like a slut probably. Why else would she be naked and up at this hour.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Didn’t make it feel any worse. The guilt tried to jump up again, but the pleasure squashed that easily.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

She was close again. She could feel it. Like she had felt so many times before but so unique. That mattered. Guilt tried to swallow it again but it didn’t matter.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Damn near two decades wasted. But that didn’t matter either. What mattered was how good her cock felt. How wet a dead pussy still managed to be.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

She was really close. There in fact. Cumming, a loud grunt joining the near silence. She held still, deep as she could.

The lack of noise was somehow more annoying. She was tired, and hungry, and still horny. She felt there might be some other things deeper down. But they didn’t matter.

Her daughter’s neck looked beautiful though. That mattered. It meant so much when she bit into it. When she sucked the cooling blood and ripped the cooling flesh. When hunger quit mattering.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Tired quit mattering enough to stop her. She’d already cum what. Four times? Didn’t matter. Wouldn’t stop her. Why should it?

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Rip. Tear. Chew. Swallow.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

#wlw nsft #guro #cannibalism #necro

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

All Up In Your Mind (Dom!Shinso x sub!Black!Reader 18+ One Shot) 

"I'm just tryin' to figure out how I'm gonna make you cum tonight."

Pairing: Dom!Shinsho Hitoshi x sub!Black!Reader 

Synopsis: In which you decide to use Hitoshi’s quirk to your advantage when things get tough in your life and you just need a bit of release. Lucky for you, Hitoshi is an understanding and generous guy, but what happens when he starts to get sick of trying to understand why you put up that wall between them even though you’re visiting him every weekend? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GO AWAY); FWBs to Lovers; Consensual Hypnosis/Brainwashing; Dubcon; Hurt/Comfort; Dumbification; Mutual Oral; Forced Orgasms; Facefucking; Shibari w/ Hitoshi’s scarves; Suspension; Edge Play; Biting; Pussy Spanks/Spanking; Mild Degradation; Praise Kink; Mild DDLG/BDSM Play; Choking; Breeding Kink; Hitoshi Making You Into His Brainless Slut; MULTIPLE Positions; MULTIPLE Orgasms for Reader; Unprotected Sex; Sub Drop; Aftercare 

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you! 

Writer’s Note: Yo. My fingers fucking HURT writing this shit. But that's what I get for getting excited writing smut lol I hope y'all like this one though! Thank you so much for the love! -Jazz

**********

It was a dark, cold, windy night.

The streets were empty and slick, the air frigid, and the rain soaking your umbrella as you stood outside of the one place you knew you shouldn’t have been that night. It was the perfect night for anyone to stay inside the warm, secure four walls of their homes, eating takeout and cuddling up on the couch for a movie or a nap. 

Unfortunately for you, you weren’t “everybody”. And the person whose apartment you stood at that late night knew that. That’s why they left the door open for you when you arrived, so you simply pushed it open. Of course, you made sure to tell them beforehand you’d be visiting…at 9 PM on a random weeknight. 

But he didn’t ask questions nor did he protest or refuse your surprise visit. That’s two of the things you liked about him: he didn’t make a fuss and he didn’t ask because he didn’t care. 

After getting into the building and to his floor, you stepped into the warm, dimly-lit apartment immediately, leaving your wet umbrella to dry by the door.

He had a nice home: mute gray walls and furniture with yellow and black throw pillows for decoration in the living room; a dining area with a large redwood table and chairs; a marbled kitchen with a mini-bar, an island, and Stirling steel appliances; a private training room across from the living room that was currently closed, the doors locked. Upstairs were his bedroom, study, and a few other rooms you knew were guest rooms. 

It was very hospitable and cozy-like despite his cool, dark demeanor and look. He knew he had a very intimidating aura to him, especially with his quirk and that blank look that was constantly on his face. 

And then there were his eyes: those violet orbs that seemed to stare into you when you first met him, inspecting you, drilling you, examining your every move. He seemed to know your past, present, and future with just one look as he trailed over your form across the bar three months ago when you first met. It frightened you yet thrilled you all at the same time. How wrong you were taking him up on his offer for dinner when he slipped you his number after hours of conversation and heated flirting. 

Which is what got you here now, two months later. “Hello?” you called into the empty living room. You looked around the corner, staring into the darkened dining room and kitchen. The scent of lavender was all around you, making you feel calm and uneasy all at the same time. 

“Hello?” you called again. Only silence answered you. You rubbed your arm nervously. Maybe he was trying to play a trick on you, jump out and scare you like the Boogeyman he was. “Shinso?” you called again, this time up the winding, polished wooden staircase. “You here?” 

“Hold up!” His deep, raspy, and very effective voice rang out from upstairs. You sighed in relief, glad this wasn’t a prank. 

You decide to sit on the couch as you wait for him to finish up with whatever he was doing. Finally, after you finished touching up your hair and gloss in your phone camera, the man of the hour comes bounding down the steps. You’d always been taken by his appearance, but now that you hadn’t seen him in two weeks, you were even more enraptured by him. 

He was a nice-looking guy, and the dark circles under his eyes didn’t take away the fact that he was fine as hell. His undercut hairstyle fit his face well and seemed to make the tuffets of lilac-purple hair look soft to the touch.

He was very tall–about six foot something–and had a nice, slim build but still had enough muscle power to move the way he did during missions. As the underground pro-hero Mindjack, it was important. He had the muscles to prove it, and you’ve felt them for yourself. Just thinking about the impressive ripple of abs and pectorals hiding under his clothes made your mouth water. 

He had on a black muscle tee and sweats that you gratefully and unabashedly eyed, your eyes going straight to his groin to get a look at the dick print. The man was packing. They always said big feet were indications–and shit, did Hitoshi have some big ass feet.

Not to mention his hands-so big, veiny, and tattooed. His finger ink was one of your favorite parts about him. You loved how they looked in your mouth whenever he slid them between your lips while he was balls-deep in your– 

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Was finishin’ up a call. Denki said the power downtown went out and a bunch of cable towers fell, so he went to help.” He leaned against the banister, one foot kicked up to cross over his ankle. “Wasn’t the work of a villain or nothin’.” 

You nodded, sitting rigidly on the couch with your thighs clamped together tight. “That’s good to hear.” Your voice was breathy and soft; an indication of your nervousness and shyness. You felt weird sitting here after not being here for so long, especially under Hitoshi’s ever-so-intense gaze. 

You suddenly regretted wearing the clothes you picked out for tonight: a nice low-cut blouse that showed off the mere outline of your bra cubs and jeans that hugged your ass just right. Though you wore a jacket underneath them, you felt like Hitoshi could see right through it. Could see right through you.  

“Want a drink?” he asked, crossing his tatted arms over his broad chest. “Water? Wine?” You looked at him from across the room. He didn’t come near you. He stayed promptly posted to the banister, giving you space. “You know what I like,” you replied. 

He nodded once. “Wine it is then. I’ve got Moscato in there.” He walked himself into his kitchen on his long legs, making wide strides as he did. Once he was out of earshot and rummaging around in his kitchen, you sat back against the pillows and relaxed, now alone with your thoughts. 

‘Da fuck are you doing?’ you thought. ‘You need to go home. Now.’

You knew that, logically, you’d regret this visit. You hadn’t seen the man in two weeks and the last time you were there didn’t end too well. He was too pushy and pried too much, which you told him as you hurried to put on your clothes despite your body aching and cutting aftercare short. 

“All I’m askin’ you is why you’re always here when you don’t even stay,” Hitoshi had scoffed, scowling at you from his bedside. He was still naked, coated in sweat. The long third arm that swayed between his muscled thighs was flaccid. 

“You know why,” you huffed as you pulled your panties up over your thighs still dripping with cum. Usually, Hitoshi would get the rag and wipe you down, also give you a nice oil massage to work out the aches of the binds on your wrists and having your body twist this way and that. But not tonight. 

“Yeah, I know why,” he replied curtly. “That’s why I’m askin’. You’re here more than you’re at your own place–” 

“That’s not true!” you protested, whipping around to glare at him. 

“–and you go out of your way to always be here,” he continues. “Always fuckin’ up my plans to have your way because you had a bad day.” He scoffs to himself, shaking his head. “We’ve been doin’ this shit for three months, and yet you’re so afraid to open up to me and–” 

“And what?” you snap, flinging a pillow at him. He catches it with one hand. “And what?” you repeat, louder and angrier now. How dare he put you on blast like this?

“Why do I have to tell you why I like you using your quirk and controlling my body? You already know what my pussy feels like, Shinso. Isn’t that being open enough?” 

Hitoshi didn’t like that. His eyes flared with irritation, making your stomach flip. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils, trying to calm himself down before he flipped his shit. “And maybe I’m askin’ you because I wanna get to fuckin’ know you. Maybe I’m tired of this FWB shit.” 

Your eyes widened and your entire body froze as his words washed over you. He never moved from his seat. He only stared at you, assessing you, wondering what you’d do next. You were hoping this wouldn’t happen: that he’d begin to grow feelings for you…and you for him. But you’d never tell him that. You couldn’t because that’d be opening a new door that you weren’t ready for. 

Hitoshi looked at you with those pleading eyes. Those eyes that have seemed to crawl into your dreams and haunt you. “I want more with you, Y/N,” he said calmly, your name sounding like sugar on his lips. 

You ran your hands through your hair, frustrated. You had decided to embark on this friends-with-benefits type thing with Hitoshi for a reason: to not feel or think (hence using his quirk to your advantage). 

To not make things complicated like relationships always seemed to be for you. To indulge in the pleasures of sex without being in love or caring for one another…well, that second part wasn’t true. And you knew it. 

You cared deeply about Hitoshi, and you hated it. Why couldn’t things ever work out for you? Why did everything have to be so damn complicated all the time? “Shinsho, I can’t,” you firmly stated. “I told you before: I don’t want a relationship. I don’t wanna be your girlfriend or your sub or whatever you want from me. I thought you’d respect that.” 

“You’re talkin’ about respect?” he cackled, the sound icky to you. “You hit me up at all hours of the night, no matter if it’s fuckin’ 2 AM  on a weeknight, come over to my house, and then leave once you use me up, and wanna talk about respect?” 

“I’m not using you!” you shouted, tears flaring in your eyes. 

He didn’t budge. “Really?” he asked, fixing you with an accusatory stare. “But even knowing this, I never judged you. And I’ll never judge you, Y/N. I told you: it ain’t my style. But…” 

He sighed, running his hands through his purple hair. “But I can’t keep BSing myself like this. If I’m to take your body and your mind like that every time we have sex, I need us to be closer.” 

He stood up from his seat and you moved towards the door, backing away from him. He looked hurt by this. “Look, I’m sorry, okay?” you huffed, quickly moving to collect your shit from his bedroom floor. “Maybe we just need a break from this or something so we can figure shit out.” 

Words flew out of your mouth to try and soothe the situation as you threw on your clothes one by one. “And you’re a great guy, Shinso. You’re sexy, funny, and real. You’ll find someone who can really take care of you.” You walked towards the door, but as your hand went for the knob, you turned to stare at him. His hurt gaze made you want to stay, but your pride stopped you. “Just not me,” you whispered, and then you were gone. 

You were sure you’d broken his heart. You were so sure he’d refuse to see you when you texted him tonight. But surprisingly, he agreed and now here you were. And there he was with two chilled glasses and a bottle of Moscato. You watched as he poured you a glass and then handed it to you. “Thanks.” 

He nodded and proceeded to sit next to you. The cushion dipped from his weight. He sat at a good distance from you, one arm slung over the back of the couch and his legs stretched out. “You cold?” he asked, noticing the goose pimples on your skin. “I’ve got a blanket too.” 

You shook your head. If only he knew those chills were from him. A few seconds of tense silence settled between you as you sipped your wine and tried to think of things to say. “Sooo wanna tell me what you’re doin’ here on such a lovely night?” he asked sarcastically. “You weren’t too specific in your texts. I’m suspecting it’s pretty important for you comin’ over here in such weather.” 

He looked at you as he sipped his wine, one foot kicked up on his knee. He sat casually and loosely, acting as if you were just two friends hanging out. But that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. 

“I said I needed to talk,” you replied, but it sounded like bullshit even in text. 

“And do you?” he pushed, raising his pierced eyebrow at you. 

You held his gaze though you just wanted to look away. The truth was you needed him. All of him. You wanted to know for a fact that you were doing the right thing by asking him if the option to be more was still on time because goddammit, you hated life without him.

Those two weeks were hell for you. Not just because of the lack of amazing, other-worldly sex, but because you didn’t have him as a pick-me-up. Even a text from him throughout the day was enough to get you through work or dinner with the parents where your mom would drill you about not being engaged yet. 

And more than anything, you missed him. You missed being near him, beside him, under him. You wanted to hide in his apartment, in his bed, forever. You felt safe with him, even when you gave him the control you were seeking in your life in every scene you two had together. In the four walls of his bedroom and in his arms, you felt at home. 

But how the fuck could you tell him that? You couldn’t. And you wouldn’t. You were here for just one last time. You knew logically that this would end badly, so why not stop it before it goes completely to shit? 

Hitoshi stared at you now, a smirk toying on his lips. “C’mon now, Y/N. We both know you never talk when you’re here…at least in the way you’re speakin’ of.” You flushed under your jacket, feeling embarrassed under his teasing yet hot and bothered by it. 

He tilted his head to the side, looking sexier than ever. “Whatchu want?” he asked softly, his voice a deep rumble. You swallowed the lump in your throat as your pussy clenched involuntarily at his words. “You know what I want,” you say barely above a whisper. 

Hitoshi sat up straighter and put his glass to the side. “I wanna hear you say it though,” he said, his voice dipping into very dangerous territory. “You know me by now, baby: I’m a fuckin’ asshole.” You looked away from him to avoid melting under his hot gaze, sipping your wine. “That, you are,” you murmured into your glass. 

Hitoshi chuckled at your mouthy response. “And from what I recall from your last visit,” he continued, “and our last conversation, you said you wanted to take a break from this because it made you feel too ‘open’.” 

You simmered under your jacket, slightly irked at his way of knowing you inside and out. “I had a shitty two weeks, okay?” you blurted out. “Work is stressing me out, my mom keeps pestering me about not havin’ a man, my money ain’t right, I’m tired of dealing with people day in and day out…” 

You sighed, turning to face him and your truth. “I needed you, okay?” you confessed. You cringed slightly at the neediness in your tone, but dammit, you needed him to understand.

“I want you, Shinso,” you say softly–a confession. His eyes suddenly flashed with something, but you couldn’t identify it too well. “Don’t you want me, too?” 

You placed your glass on the coffee table in front of you and peeled your jacket off of your body. Hitoshi watched you, never looking away from your face. And never touching you. At this point, you’d be in his arms and naked, but he never even reached a hand out for you. You bit your lip harshly, feeling dumb. “Do you want me to leave?” you asked. 

He glared at you, irritation on his face. “You know I fuckin’ don’t.” Now, you were irritated too. Why was he playing you like this? “Then what’s the problem?” you asked curtly. “You’ve never had an issue with this before, so why now?” 

Hitoshi’s eyes trailed over you, but not in a sexual manner. He was analyzing you, peeling you apart. Quickly, he stood and startled you with how fast he was. You watched silently as he walked to the window overlooking the city below. The rain outside pitter-pattered against the roof and dripped down the windows. 

He stood with his back to you, watching the rain fall. “What are we, Y/N?” he asked, sounding oh-so sad. You blinked at him, not expecting this question. “Sorry?” 

“I said what are we?” he asked once more. He turned to you and looked pained. It hurt you to see him hurt. “We’ve been doin’ this dance for three months now. You come over here, I fuck you, you go home, we flirt, we laugh, we joke, act like we’re not fucking in public but in private, it’s something totally different.” 

You shrugged your shoulders despite yourself. “Easy: we’re fuckbuddies.” 

“Naw,” Hitoshi replied, shaking his head. “Fuckbuddies don’t laugh and joke. They don’t feed each other off the plate or know about each others' lives like that. They don’t even cuddle. We’re way past fuckbuddies and you know it, so why are you so afraid of whatever this could be?” 

“You’re talkin’ crazy,” you scoffed though you knew he was right. “When we agreed to do this, I specifically told you I want no strings attached. No feelings. Just sex.” 

“But this isn’t just sex, Y/N,” Hitoshi protested. “I’m using my quirk on you. I’m brainwashing you. And we’re indulging in BDSM-type play.” “You’re okay with all that but me asking you questions about you is too much?” He squinted at you accusingly. 

Your body felt hot with shame and embarrassment. Fuck, he was right, about all of it. But your pride wouldn’t let you give in that easily.

“Because there are no questions in this, Shinso!” you snapped, standing up too. “It’s bad enough I’m asking you to brainwash me, tie me up, and fuck me without a driver at the wheel. I don’t need you to ask questions or try to dig deeper to make this into something it won’t ever be.” 

Hitoshi started at you blankly and that pissed you off even more. “I don’t come here for that shit,” you hiss. “I come here to get my release and my nut. That’s it! You don’t need to know why I come to you to feel good or why I like being brainwashed and used. That’s none of your business.” 

“It is if I’m the one doin’ it,” he grumbles. 

“What the fuck do you want from me?!” you bellow, startling yourself. But Hitoshi barely even blinked. For a while, the two of you stood there in silence, Hitoshi’s living room now a battlefield. 

You take a moment to compose yourself. Now you really knew tonight had to be the last time. “I told you before that I’m not ready for another romantic relationship, and you understood that,” you huff. “So if you want this to stop, just tell me now so I don’t waste my time.” 

Hitoshi didn’t say anything. He kept his lips clamped, eyes trained on you. “I’m here because only you can make me stop stressing for a moment,” you confessed. “Only you can make me feel so good. So good I forget me for a while.” 

You stepped closer to him, eyes locked with his. “Just help me forget me tonight, Shinso,” you softly pled. “That’s all I ask. And if you don’t want this, say it now and I’ll–” 

He cut you off with a chuckle, shaking his head at you. “Who said anything about me not wanting this?” he asked. Suddenly, his hand was trailing down your arm, sending chills in his wake. “That’s not the problem right now, doll. I'm just tryin' to figure out how I'm gonna make you cum tonight."

At that moment, all of the tension in the air vanished. Now all that was left was the lust and need you were both feeling. Your walls vanished as you threw yourself at him, going to wrap your arms around him and kiss those lips you’ve been dreaming about. 

Hitoshi stopped you by taking your wrists and pushing you down onto the couch. You fell onto your back with a gasp, but before you could process what just happened, he was on top of you and kissing you silly. His kiss wasn’t nice–it was desperate; thirsty; rough. He gripped your chin as he hovered over you, one hand placed above your head to hold himself up as his lips bruised yours. His stubble tickled your chin, imagining him giving you rugburn in the right places. 

You moaned into the kiss, giving him a chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tasted of the Moscato and mint gum–something he chewed whenever he was bored or stressed to keep himself occupied. You never forgot this little fact. So many little facts and quirks about him lived in your head rent-free. You wanted to tell him that too. 

But not yet. Not right now. You went to grasp his shoulders, but he stopped you by taking your wrists and pinning them above your head. His lips left yours and he proceeded to kiss you all over: your neck, across your jawline, your collarbone, and chest. His kisses were intoxicating, each one a drug to you. You moaned and writhed against his iron grip, your eyes fluttering closed. How you had missed this. “‘Toshi,” you whispered. “Please.” 

“Please what, doll?” he murmured against your skin. “You want something, you gotta ask me.” His lips trailed back up to your neck to nibble the tender flesh there, and then give you a bite. You gasped as his teeth nicked you, the sharp pain sending sparks of pleasure into your core. He did the same thing again to another place on your neck, sucking gently on the skin. No doubt he was giving you hickeys as punishment. 

You found your voice despite the arousal you felt that was quickly overtaking you. “C-Can you…” You licked your lips, trying again: “Can you take me upstairs?” you coherently asked. He looked at you from between the valley of your breasts, and you realized just then one of his hands was crawling up your blouse.

“Please, sir?” you asked, putting on your best breathy, soft, 'fuck me' voice that you knew drove him insane. 

He grinned at you, the sight of it too beautiful for words. “That’s my good girl,” he cooed. “Of course, I can, gorgeous.” He leaned over to peck you on the lips. The kiss was so wet that a string of saliva stuck between your lips as he pulled away. “Lemme just take care of the wine and I’ll meet you upstairs. You know what to do, right?” 

You nodded. “Yes, sir, I do.” Because you did. The very first night he brought you into his bedroom (which was your first “date” that he insisted on taking you on), he made the rules very clear: 

Whenever you come into his bedroom, you’re to be naked and on your knees waiting for him by the bed with your hands flat on your lap and head down. 

Always answer when asked a question. 

When a scene is in place, always call Hitoshi “sir”, “daddy”, or whatever he sees fit (he usually loves being called “sir” or “daddy”) 

Never ever forget the traffic light system or a safe word. 

Finally, never ever cum without his permission. If you do, there will be consequences, usually either being edged to the point of tears or denied an orgasm if you don’t apologize. 

Hitoshi nodded at you, happy with your obedience. “Good girl. Now get that ass upstairs and you’d better be naked by the time I get up there.” You nodded and he let you get up but gave you a smack on your ass as you lept upstairs, biting back a smile as you did. 

He left you alone to your own devices for about ten minutes, giving you more than enough time to get ready. You slipped into his bedroom and breathed in the scent of vanilla and lavender that you’d grown to love so much. The bed he had was one of those king-sized ones covered in a black comforter and plush pillows. It came with four poles that served as bedposts protruding from the floor and nearly reaching the ceiling, giving the bed an almost medieval feel.

The lamp on his nightstand lit the bedroom up in a warm glow, accompanying you as you stripped. You took off your blouse and pants; your bra and panties; and your shoes and socks. Not one article of clothing was left on you. Hitoshi liked you completely bare. 

You then folded all of the clothes up on the chair near his gaming desk that sat near the door. Then you walked over to the bed and knelt on the soft carpeted floor near it, hands flat on your thighs. But you didn’t look down yet. Instead, you looked up. High above the bed was a large, oval-shaped mirror stuck to the ceiling, one that you’d watched Hitoshi fuck you in many times. And you’d watch him do it again. 

You suddenly heard his footsteps and your heart began to tremble. Quickly, you ducked your head down, now staring down at your hands on your thighs. Hitoshi came into the room and closed the door behind him. You heard the door click shut and his bare feet against the carpet. You didn’t look up, even as he stood in front of you. All you saw were his big feet and the legs of his sweats. 

He knelt down to your height so he was level with you and tilted your chin up to look at him. He was now shirtless; all bare skin and muscles you wanted to touch. “So,” he purred, his voice deep and raspy. “my little kitty wants to play tonight with me, hm?” 

The pet name made your pussy clench. “Yes, sir,” you softly answered. “And maybe use your scarves this time to tie me up.” 

Hitoshi’s eyes widened an inch at your request. He’d always used either rope or satin ties to tie you up if not handcuffs to lock you to the bedpost. This was the first time you’d asked him to use his own scarves for a scene, but you’d wanted it for a long time. It seemed more personal and more intimate to you than using rope or ties. “Fuck, you’re freaky,” he chuckled, “but I knew that when I met you.” 

He put his hands out for you and you took them, allowing him to help you stand. “Fine then; we’ll have it your way. But you know seein’ you tied up so nice in my scarves is gonna make me so hard, right?” His eyes darkened with lust and anticipation. 

You felt the same. You could feel yourself shivering impatiently, wanting to get to the part where he ties you up, brainwashes you, and fucks you stupid already. “Yes, sir.” 

He raised his pierced brow. “And what will happen when my dick gets hard for you? You’ve gotta take responsibility, don’t you?” He took your hand and placed it on his groin where he felt his very hard, very thick dick in his sweatpants. Your mouth fell open at the feeling of your hand wrapped around him. “Y-Yes, sir,” you softly stuttered.  

He smiled sweetly and kissed you once. “Up you go, then.” He chuckled at your squeak of surprise as he scooped you up into his strong arms, holding you close to his chest. You felt small and safe in his arms and allowed yourself to relax as he walked you over to the bed. 

He placed you down gingerly before going to the drawers in the tall dresser on the left of his bed. Those were his goodies drawers. He had every single toy and tool in there related to sex or BDSM: rope and ties; blindfolds and cuffs; floggers and whips; nipple clamps; dildos and vibes; you name ‘em.  Every time he went into a drawer, you felt pure excitement for what was to come, not knowing what it would be. 

You watched as he dipped his hand into the drawer at the top and pulled something out. When he turned to you, he showed you the goody: his scarves. Excitement, anticipation, and a twinge of nervousness filled your gut. He came to the side of the bed, staring down at you. “Tell me your lights.” 

The traffic light system. “Green, yellow, and red,” you answered clearly. "Green means I'm good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop."

He grinned with pride. “Glad you ain’t forget.” He bent down to kiss you before taking one of your wrists. “I’m gonna tie your wrists and ankles for now. Then we can move onto shibari and suspension later on if you want.” He then got on top of you, straddling you. “Is this what you want, baby?” 

You looked from his lust-filled gaze to his toned stomach, pecs, and dick print right in your face. “Yes, sir,” you answered, genuine and wanton. You placed a hand on his stomach, loving the way your skin tones contrasted and how your dark nail polish looked against his warm skin. “Please tie me up with your scarves.” 

Hitoshi growled low in his throat, lust overtaking him. He wasted no time tying your wrist to one of the bedposts with his scarf. He worked quickly and expertly, tying the knot enough so you weren’t in pain but you weren’t getting out either. “Good?” he asked. You nodded and he went on to the next. He did this until he finished tying your ankles to the bedposts below. 

And then there you were: naked and played out like a dessert plate. And Hitoshi was looking at you like one. “You look so fuckin’ good,” he hummed appreciatively. He swooped down to kiss your lips and then nuzzled your breasts, pressing a kiss to each hardened peak of your nipple. You bite your lip at the sensations as he trailed down to your tummy, his hands caressing your sides gently. “Like my perfect lil’ doll,” he cooed against your stomach. “Not quite yet though. Haven’t prepped you yet.” 

You shivered when he said the word “prepped”. That usually meant making you cum your brains out before he proceeded to use his quirk on you. You waited patiently (though you didn’t really have a choice) as Hitoshi went to grab your favorite kind of lube–made with a hint of aloe vera, strawberry-flavored, and warmed with physical touch. 

He then walked back over and knelt between your thighs, his violet eyes locked with yours as he squirted some of the lube onto his fingers. He then reached down and began to slowly slide his fingers over your pussy lips and clit, never dipping inside you. It quickly drove you insane. His feather-light touch against the most sensitive part of you had your toes curling and your eyes fluttering closed. 

Hitoshi always took his sweet time pleasing you, mostly because he loved seeing you come undone. And you knew he did. “Like that, kitty?” he asked, eyeing you from between the V of your thighs.

He then slid his fingers between your pussy lips and your mouth fell open. “Uh-huh,” you moaned out, unable to form the words to speak as the pleasure increased. 

Hitoshi played with your pussy for a while until neither one of you could tell the difference between the lube and your juices anymore. You were ready. Slowly, he dove in to enjoy his meal, tongue out and ready to indulge in your taste. As soon as his hot, wet mouth and lips wrapped around your clit, you were throwing your head back and pulling against your restraints. “Fuck,” you softly moaned to the ceiling. 

Hitoshi took that as his cue to keep going, lapping at your pussy like a starving man. He alternated between short flicks of his tongue and long strokes with the flattest part of his tongue that he knew exactly how to work. He moaned as he did it, the lewd sounds making you gush even more around his mouth. “You taste so fuckin’ good, kitty,” he groaned into your pussy. “Could stay between your legs for days and never get tired.” 

You whimpered at his words, still pulling at the rope ties. He slid his hands underneath your ass to angle your hips up before slowly sliding his index finger inside the wet depths of your pussy. You moaned his name and threw your head back as he began to stroke in and out of you, angling up to rub his palm against your clit. After some stimulation with one finger, he added another. 

You bucked and writhed, moaned, and whined at the pleasurable feeling of him fingerfucking your cunt. How you had missed this feeling. Especially when you felt that familiar of an orgasm begin to rise in your core. It only got stronger when Hitoshi wrapped his lips around your clit again as he fingerfucked you, gradually going faster. “‘Toshi!” you mewed, writhing in his grasp. “‘Toshi, p-please let me cum! Please!” 

“Not until you say you’re sorry,” he growled, still suckling and fucking away. “Say you’re sorry for bein’ a little fuckin’ brat. Say you’re sorry for makin’ me miss you for two weeks.” He stared at you from between your legs and slowed his movements. As he did, the feeling of your rising orgasm began to fade. “Say it.” 

A desperate whine left your lips. You needed to cum. You needed to. “I-I’m sorry!” you cry out. “I’m so, so sorry, ‘Toshi! Please let me cum!” That pleased Hitoshi. He granted your wish and proceeded to stroke your walls faster as he sucked and licked gently on your clit. 

He held you down with one hand, his hips securely pinning you to the mattress even as you writhed against the bed. You were close. So, so close. But when he spat on your pussy and slurped that shit back up, that set you all the way off. “‘Bout to cum!” you gasped. “I’m about to…” 

When your orgasm finally hit you, you barely realized it. It rose too quickly for your brain to process, but when it did, it slammed into you and filled your body with warmth. Your voice cracked on your moans and whines as you gushed all over Hitoshi’s fingers and mouth, tears pricking your eyes.

This is it. This is what you needed. Hitoshi knew it too. “Thaaat’s a good lil’ girl,” he chuckled into your pussy. “Cum all over my face.” 

He continued to stroke and suck on your pussy as you rode your orgasm out. He lapped up each drop until no trace of your cum or lube was on your inner thighs. All that was left was his saliva. When you were drained and completely exhausted, he finally stopped and sat up to look down at you. His lips shined with his spit and your cum, his own cum-drunk smile on his face. 

Though you were sedated by your orgasm, you were beyond tired or satisfied. You wanted him. Needed him. “I’m ready now, Hitoshi,” you tell him breathlessly. “I want you to use your quirk now.” Hitoshi stared down at you with lust-blown pupils and a smile that sent shivers down your spine. “Lie back then, baby.” 

You did as he instructed, getting comfortable against the plush pillows. He sat up on his knees, looking down at you with such adoration that you flushed. “Good?” he asked. You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “Alright, baby; close your eyes and take a deep breath in for me.” 

You, once again, did as instructed: you closed your eyes and took a deep breath into your lungs. “And out,” he instructed. You breathed out, the small circles he stroked against your thigh helping. 

“Clear your head of everything you’ve ever known. All you know now is me for tonight. Trust that I’ve got you and I’d never do anything without your consent or permission. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”  

It was weird, but his words brought tears to your eyes as well as relaxed you. It was the fact that he truly cared about you to do something like this. Despite all of your bullshit and excuses, here he was, making you feel good at your request. And you wanted to do the same for him. You opened your eyes to get a good look at him, hoping he’d see the utter gratitude in your eyes. “Yes, daddy,” you replied softly. 

That was the trigger for Hitoshi. First, you were feeling him press a passionate, wet kiss to your lips. Then you felt your body seize and then go limp as he activated his quirk. Your brain went blank, all thoughts ceasing to exist. Your eyes fell closed on instinct, catapulting you into darkness. You felt yourself sink deeper and deeper into your body, almost as if you were inside looking out. You knew it was your conscious brain taking the backseat as nothing but Hitoshi filled your head now, your mind a blank canvas for his creation. 

The only way you could describe being brainwashed by Hitoshi was bliss. A bliss that was so good that it made you uncomfortable every time it happened. You were scared at how good and free you felt being controlled by someone else, but another part of you told you to give in; that everything would be alright. 

“Y/N, honey?” Hitoshi said, sounding far away. It was like you were underwater and he was standing above the waves, calling for you. “Baby, can you hear me?” He sounded closer and clearer now as the fog in your brain cleared. 

“Yes,” you tried to answer, but you physically couldn’t move your mouth. Not without Hitoshi’s commands to speak. 

“Answer me, baby,” he commanded, his voice now crystal clear and strong. “Can you hear my voice?” You felt his rough yet warm hand on your cheek, stroking it softly. 

“Yes,” you heard yourself reply, your lips forming the words. “Yes, I can hear you.” He sighed, sounding relieved. “How do you feel?” You suddenly felt his hand slide down your stomach to your inner thighs where his fingers played with your pussy now soaked in your arousal again. When the fuck did you get wet again? 

“Good,” you whimpered, toes curling as he rubbed your clit in gentle circles. “Mmm, I bet you do; look at how wet this pussy is. And you just came! Greedy little slut, aren’t you?” You must’ve been too slow to answer because he gave your pussy a hard, open-palmed smack. You gasped and your body jumped at the sting. 

“Aren’t you?” he growled into your ear.

Like a switch being flipped, you quickly answered him. “Y-Yes, sir, I’m a greedy little slut!” you whimpered, your thighs shaking. Hitoshi chuckled, his hot breath fanning your face. “But you’re my greedy lil’ slut.” He leaned in close, his lips at your ear. “And you know what greedy sluts get?” 

Your pussy gushed and clenched around nothing at the feeling of his soft lips against the most sensitive part of your ear. “N-No,” you stuttered. 

“They get punished,” he whispered and suddenly, he was untying your ankles and wrists from the bedposts. Before you could process what he was doing, you were on your stomach and being hoisted onto your knees after he flipped your ass over. You could only gasp as he did, his strength incredible. How he was able to throw you around so effortlessly always turned you on. 

He came up behind you and immediately smacked you on the ass. Hard. The sound of his hand hitting your ass cheek was sharp and filled the air along with your grunt of surprise. “This is your punishment,” he growled. “For being a greedy lil’ brat.” SMACK! He spanked you again, this time on the opposite cheek. You hissed at the pain, but your pussy jumped, loving the feeling. 

“This is for making me wait for two fuckin’ weeks,” he growled. SMACK! 

“Makin’ my cock wait for you.” SMACK! 

“Can’t even focus on my work ‘cause of your ass.” 

SMACK! SMACK! “What do you have to say for yourself, huh, slutty girl?” 

SMACK! “Tell me!” he ordered. “Say you’re sorry!” SMACK! 

“I-I’m sorry!” you heard yourself cry out, your voice cracking. “I’m sorry I left you waiting, sir! I’m sorry I’m such a needy little slut for you! I-I just missed you so bad!” You were practically in tears now, your body twitching at the harsh sting from his spankings on your asscheeks. 

“Fuck!” Hitoshi grunted, impatient, and just as needy as you. He quickly swooped down and planted your ass in wet kisses and massages, easing the pain away. “Such a good girl,” he whispered against your asscheek. “That’s enough pain for now. Time to shower my baby in pleasure.” 

“T-Thank you, sir,” you stuttered out, wanting to push your ass back into his adoring mouth, but his quirk’s hold on you didn’t allow you. You could only moan and whimper as his lips trailed down your ass to your pussy. His hands pried your cheeks apart to get good access to your sobbing wet cunt and proceeded to lick, suck, and kiss you there. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the sensations of him eating out your overly-sensitive pussy, his tongue moving over your clit.

“‘T-Toshi,” you mewled. “Please.” 

“What do you want, gorgeous?” he asked, taking a break from eating you out to rub at your flit. You cried aloud at the feeling, your toes curling as sparks of pleasure shot into your core. “Tell me,” he commanded. “Tell me what you want.” 

“To cum,” you moaned. “Please, daddy, make me cum again.” You heard Hitoshi chuckle darkly before pushing you down with one hand so the side of your face was in the mattress. Face down, ass up–his favorite position. “Goddamn,” he swore. “I’ll never get tired of this shit.” 

Your body trembled excitedly, bracing itself for the feeling of Hitoshi’s tongue and mouth on your pussy. But he surprised you when he pressed his open palm against your pussy and smacked you against your clit. You gasped, your body jumping in response. He did it again, and again and again, the sweet mixture of pain and pleasure too much for you. “Hitoshiiii,” you whined. “Please! C-Can’t…can’t…” 

“Ah-ah, baby,” he chuckled. “I want you to cum just like this. With my hand smackin’ that clit.” He pressed a kiss to your ass as he smacked up against your clit again, even giving you some nice strokes with his palm. “This is what you deserve. You deserve to cum just like this.” 

Your mouth fell open into a silent, shocked O as another orgasm began to make its appearance. This had never happened before. He was making you cum with just pussy smacks? This man was a demon. “Hitoshi, please!” you practically screamed. “Please let me cum, baby, please!” 

“Tell me whose pussy this is then,” he ordered his voice a growl that made your stomach flip. “Tell me who owns this pussy and I’ll let you cum again.” 

You could barely think or speak, the dawn of your new orgasm mingling with the sedation of your initial orgasm rendering you useless. Your muscles were slowly turning into mush as he assaulted your pussy so good your toes curled. “Y-You,” you softly moan. 

A sharp smack against your ass made you yelp. “Sorry, baby; didn’t get that,” Hitoshi said. “Say it a little louder for me.” You practically sobbed and he laughed at your pitiful, pathetic state. “C’mooon, you can do better than that.” When all you did was whine, he hummed in disappointment and brought his hand away from you. “Guess you don’t wanna cum then.” 

The ache of need in your core made you downright insane. You needed to cum again. There’s no way he could edge you like this. “Please!” you babble deliriously. “You own this pussy! You own all of me, Hitoshi, please just let me fuckin’ cum!” 

A fire flashed behind Hitoshi’s eyes at your begs and pleads for mercy. He pressed his palm up to your clit and proceeded to move it up and down, pressing into it with the exact pressure you needed. “You wanna fuckin’ cum?” he growled. “You wanna cum for me, slut, huh?” You nodded frantically, your mind quickly going blank from the pleasure. “Fuckin’ do it then. Give it to me, baby.” 

Then he stopped, his palm still against your clit, and whispered a command in your ear that echoed in your mind: “Cum.” 

Just like a puppet being controlled by strings, you did as Hitoshi said. Your body reacted immediately, your back arching and your pussy spasming as you came all over his hand. And fuck, did you cum hard. You were seeing stars and heard bells ringing in your ears as you screamed at the top of your lungs, your throat going raw from using it too much. When the orgasm finally ebbed, you slumped onto the mattress in utter exhaustion, muscles going to mush and your mind a puddle. You inhaled and exhaled deeply, your chest rising and falling with each deep gulp of air. 

You must’ve passed out for a short time because suddenly, Hitoshi was beside you and you don’t remember feeling him there. “Baby?” he whispered in your ear, stroking your hair back from your face. “Can you hear me, darlin’? Can you look at me?” Your eyes fluttered open and you saw his handsome face peering at you. “You good?” he asked, looking worried. 

Good wasn’t even a word you could’ve used to describe this feeling. Your body felt loose and relaxed, your pussy aching in the best possible way. “Y-Yeah,” you giggled softly. “Yeah, I’m good, sir.” 

Hitoshi looked relieved and pecked your sweaty temple. “You wanna keep going?” he asked. You nodded slowly, not wanting to stop tonight. “Lemme finish tyin’ you up then. Let me know at any time if it’s too much.” Once again, you nodded, knowing most of it was because he was bringing sheer obedience and compliance out of you with his quirk. However, you wanted this and he knew it. 

Slowly, he sat you up and got the rest of his scarves from the nightstand before proceeding to tie you up with them shibari style. He first had you sit with your knees underneath your butt and your hands behind your back. Then he started to tie you up with his soft, long scarves that felt like silk against your skin. He tied your wrists first and then connected that knot to your arms which connected to the one wrapped around your neck. He moved onto your legs and ankles, tying them so they were pressed tightly together. Then he moved onto your breasts, covering them in his scarf as he secured each bind. 

When he was finally done, he sat back to look at his handiwork. “Tell me how it feels,” he ordered, though his tone was soft. You could hardly move except for turning your head or rocking from side to side. You were completely restricted, and you loved every minute of it. “Like a tight hug,” you answered breathlessly, saying the first thing that came to mind. 

Hitoshi nodded, happy with that answer. He stared at you for a moment, his stare heated and filled with molten lust that made you flush. “I can’t tell you how fuckin’ good you look right now, doll. Wrapped up like a pretty lil’ toy.” 

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, he began to unbuckle and unzip his pants right in front of you. The sounds of it made you even wetter, especially when he brought his briefs down with his jeans as he pulled them down his narrow hips. “I wanna break my toy in a little,” he groaned as his cock sprung free from his briefs finally. “Open that fuckin’ mouth.” 

Your eyes stared in astonishment at how fantastic his dick is for a moment–tan, veiny, long, and thick, his cockhead pink and dripping in precum all for you. You were utterly in love with that dick. He brought it to you and gently slapped your lips with it. “Suck,” he commanded. 

Your body reacted immediately. You leaned in towards his dick and opened your mouth, your lips covering your teeth to avoid scratching him. You stuck your tongue out first to get a taste of him, relishing the mix of salty and sweet, before he slid into the wet, warm depths of your waiting mouth. As soon as he was in, you had to adjust to his size by opening your throat as if you were yawning and breathing through your nostrils. Hitoshi was a big guy and it was harder with no hands, but you knew you could manage. You were a big girl. 

He seemed to think so too because he pushed his hips forward more, in turn sliding his dick into your mouth farther. “That’s it, baby girl,” he groaned, one hand securely behind your head. “Suck that dick. Make it sloppy for me. You know how I like it.” 

You did know. That’s why your mouth immediately pulled away to spit all over his cock and slurp it back up before licking all around his dick, making it shine in your saliva. Your mouth secreted so much saliva that it dripped down Hitoshi’s balls and thighs. The sight of it made you gush all over the bed, making your inner thighs wet with your arousal.

Once he was nice and slick, you brought your mouth towards his again and sucked him in, deeper this time. You gagged around his cock for a few seconds, popping his head in and out of your throat as you ran your tongue along his sweet spot located right at the side of his head. 

Hitoshi was loving it. You peered up at him through your lashes to watch his eyes roll back. “Fuck me, that’s it!” he gasped, tossing his head back in ecstasy to the ceiling above. “I love watchin’ you suck my dick in the mirror up here. You’re takin’ me so good.”

You had wanted to watch it too. How did you look taking his dick deep in your mouth, you wondered? Did you look as sexy and as beautiful as he thought too?

He suddenly looked down at you, his hand petting your head lovingly. “Think we can go deeper?” he asked, his eyes dark and hooded. He was now deep in his Dom role–merciless and stern yet still sweet as black licorice. 

You whimpered in protest, not sure if you could. You had to adjust to putting him in your mouth, to begin with, keeping your jaw slack and mouth stretched wide. How the fuck were you going to deepthroat him?

Hitoshi’s hand on your head grew tighter and you whined as he gripped your head. “Oh, yes, you can. It’s been a while, but you’ve got it.” 

‘Don’t!’ your conscious mind protested, but your body didn’t listen. You were already opening your mouth again and expanding your throat for him as if about to yawn. Hitoshi slowly slid his dick into your mouth once more, taking his sweet time. “That’s it, open that throat…” 

He didn’t stop until he was right at the back of your throat, his balls hitting your chin. Your throat flexed and gagged around him, trying to ease the discomfort of something so huge hitting the back of your throat. Your cheeks pricked with tears at the slight burning sensation in your throat as Hitoshi began to slowly slide in and out of the tight space, gripping your hair tight as he did. “Fuck, baby!” he moaned, his voice bouncing off the walls. “Good girl! You took all of me so deep. ‘M so proud of you.” 

He looked down at you in utter adoration and pride which seemed to make the burning sensation in your throat feel like a damn kiss. He slid out to allow you to breathe, his cock soaked in your spit and his precum, so much so that strings of spit stuck to his head and your lips as he pulled away. 

You gulped down each breath greedily and gratefully, relishing this moment because you knew what came next. “T-Thank you, sir,” you breathlessly replied, still struggling to catch your breath. 

Hitoshi let you recover for a moment, then wrenched your head back, forcing you to look up at him. “Now shut the fuck up and lemme fuck that pretty face.” He forced your head back down on him again and you got to work immediately, bobbing your head up and down, back and forth, his dick sliding against your tongue until it once again hit the back of your throat. 

Hitoshi was relentless as he fucked your throat. He gripped your head and maneuvered you the way he wanted until you were right where he wanted–your head back, mouth stretched wide, and eyes on him. His pelvis brushed against your nose and heavy balls swung against your chin as he thrust in and out of your throat, alternating between slow, torturous strokes that stretched out the burning in your throat and quick thrusts that made your throat squelch and gag around him. 

“Gonna make that makeup run,” he grunted. “Gonna fuck you up so good that no other man could compare.” He gripped the fistful he had of your hair tighter and you were so sure he’d yank that shit out if he wasn’t careful. “That’s a promise, baby,” he growled. “Now cum for me while my dick is in your throat.” 

Like clockwork, pussy immediately started quivering and your clit began to swell like it was being stimulated to the point of orgasm. Your eyes widened at the sensation, realizing he was trying to make you cum again. “Mmmph!” you moaned in protest around his dick, your words muffled and muddled. “W-Wait, daddy! S-Still sensitive!”

 

“I don’t give a fuck,” Hitoshi growled darkly, still pumping away in your throat. “You wanna fuck with me? Then you’ve gotta face the consequences. Now fuckin’ cum, you dumb little slut.” 

And you did. God, you did. Your third orgasm of the night came like a damn tsunami as it crashed into your body. Warmth spread throughout your entire being, making your toes curl and muscles spasm as you came all over yourself while Hitoshi stayed deep in your throat. Your moans and whimpers were muffled around his cock, the sensations vibrating against the sensitive parts of his cock. He moaned and swore at the pleasurable vibrations, his balls growing heavier against your chin. 

When your orgasm finally faded and you began to settle into the afterglow, Hitoshi slid out of your throat. His dick bobbed slightly against his inner thigh, slick in your spit and twitching. “I didn’t cum,” he breathlessly explained, “but I don’t want to. Not till I’m deep in that pussy where I belong.” He leaned in toward you then until his nose brushed yours. “Until I’m deep in my pussy.”  

‘Yes,’ your conscious mind thought. ‘Your pussy. All yours.’ The fact that you thought such a thing was shocking to you. You passed it off as a side effect of Hitoshi’s quirk or the fact that you were delirious with lust, but you knew all of that was bullshit. You knew even if this never happened again, you could never find a man who would make you feel this way: so okay with being vulnerable; so willing to submit. There would be no other like Hitoshi Shinso. 

You didn’t know if it was love, but goddamn, did you love this. 

“Wanna go up now?” he asked, giving you such a sweet smile that you nearly started crying. You nodded frantically and he proceeded to get you ready. He first untied your hands and wrists, then had you stand up on the bed. 

After giving you time to get the blood flowing back into your limbs, he coaxed you into putting one leg up onto one of the bedposts at the bottom of the bed. Once you did, he securely tied one end of his scarf to your ankle and the other up on the bedpost. You were then standing with one leg up on the bed and the little hops you did made Hitoshi laugh. 

Letting you hold onto him for balance, he did the same to one of your wrists–he let it dangle from another one of his scarves securely tied to the iron bars forming a roof above the canopy of the bed. He did the same to your other ankle and wrist, tying them up and letting them dangle. He also tied some scarves to your knees, forcing them to bend so your legs wouldn’t lock. Once he was finished, he stayed standing on the bed in front of you, smirking proudly. “Now you’re exactly like a little robe bunny,” he darkly chuckled. 

You said nothing, but you didn’t know what you’d say if you could. The predicament you were in was indescribable and quite embarrassing, to say the least–you were hanging meters above the bed with your arms and legs splayed out so your titties and pussy were on full display for the lavender-haired man standing in front of you. You felt completely and utterly exposed. And you loved every minute of it. The mix of arousal and fear in your stomach was an intoxicating and confusing cocktail, fogging up your head even more. 

Hitoshi stepped closer to you, taking one of your feet into his hand. “Still on the pill?” he asked. You nodded, glad you didn’t stop taking the birth control even though you hadn’t had any kind of sexual contact with anyone since you and Hitoshi fought two weeks ago. He nodded in approval and kissed your foot. “Light, baby,” he ordered though his tone was gentle. 

“Green, sir,” you replied, giving your fingers and toes a wiggle to show him you were okay. Slowly, he positioned his hips in between your dangling legs, his still-hard cock pressing against your inner thigh. 

He cupped your face into both of his calloused hands, holding your gaze with his. “You did so well takin’ me, gorgeous. You’re so, so good to me.” He pecked your lips sweetly, making you drunk off his taste. “Now let me be good to you.” He then took his dick into his hand from the base and, eyes locked with yours, ran it against your overly-sensitive, needy little clit. “You still want this?” he cooed teasingly at you. “You still want this dick?” 

Your clit twitched and ached, your pussy gushing around air as it begged for Hitoshi’s cock. “Yes, please, Hitoshi!” you pleaded, toes curling and muscles clenched. “Please fuck me! C-Can’t take anymore! I’ve earned it! I’ve been a good girl!” 

Hitoshi gave you a wolfish grin, his hands gripping your hips. “Yes, you have,” he chuckled, and then, without warning, he was sliding inside of your exposed, wet, needy pussy. After two weeks without feeling him, it was a bit of a stretch. Your mouth fell open into a silent gasp as you felt your pussy stretch around his head, then to the inches he continued to add. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight!” Hitoshi swore through a hiss. “And so wet for me. Such a naughty little slut.” He began to slowly move his hips, giving you time to adjust. “My dumb little girl.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your breast. “My good, perfect doll.” He took your hard nipple into his mouth. “For me to hold and play with.” He bit your nipple, the sharp sting making you whine. “And break.” 

Once you were fully adjusted to his size, he sunk in deeper and proceeded to fuck you while you hung from his scarves. Your pussy squeezed and flexed around his shaft as he pounded into you again and again, his hips angled just perfectly so his pelvis rubbed against your aching clit with every thrust. “That feels so good, doesn’t it?” he teased. “Bet you’d let me do this all the time. Let me keep you here forever. Bet you’d even let me breed that pretty pussy if I just keep fucking you, right?” 

You couldn’t think. You couldn’t even breathe. He kept knocking the wind out of your lungs with every merciless thrust that sent you further into the stratosphere. With your legs forcefully spread out the way they were, you were forced to take every inch of him that slid in and out of you. The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and your wet pussy gushing around his cock filled the air, making you throw your head back. You were about to blackout from this. “‘T-Toshi,” you moaned breathlessly, your eyes fluttering shut. 

Hitoshi laughed at you as he picked up speed, now bottomed out inside of you. He leaned in towards you, his face like a full moon rising in the night. “What?” he snickered, his hot breath fanning your face. “Is my little bunny goin’ dumb from my dick? You like bein’ my stupid little slut?” He went even faster, pounding into you at a breakneck pace that had you seeing stars and your pussy quivering gratefully for it. 

You were losing it, going completely dumb from the sensations and Hitoshi’s ever-so-persuasive quirk and control. “Y-Yes!” you deliriously babbled, your toes clenched as yet another orgasm approached. “Yes, ooh, I love it! I love bein’ your stupid little slut! I’m yours, Hitoshi, I promise!”

You were completely cum drunk, your mind muddled and your body turning to mush. “Gonna cum again!” you sobbed, eyes squeezed shut and head tossed back to the ceiling. Hitoshi didn’t let up. In fact, he only went harder, gripping your ass and smashing his pelvis onto that clit as he fucked you hard. “Show me then,” he commanded. “Show me how much of a stupid fuckin’ whore you are for me and cum all over my dick. Cum for me, you pretty, brainless lil’ slut!”  

Those words sent you right over the edge. You tumbled down, down, down into the sea of bliss that was waiting for you. When you came for the fourth fucking time that night, you did it on a scream that tore from your lungs and echoed throughout Hitoshi’s apartment. He slowed down enough to let you ride it out, staring at your face with the softest expression you’ve ever seen on him. 

Once your orgasm began to fade and your muscles unclenched, he gripped your hips and started to drive into you again. Never mind how your pussy spasmed and clamped down around his cock in protest, or how you screamed and whined in protest. “Not yet,” he growled as he began to pound into you again with vigor. “Not fuckin’ yet. Not until you’re spent and cum-drunk. Not until you’re good and punished for your bullshit.” 

You were crying, pleading, begging him. For what exactly, you had no idea. Did you want him to stop or keep going? The lines between wanting it and not were blurred, your four orgasms and Hitoshi’s quirk making your brain a complete puddle. “Daddy, please!” you begged tearfully. “Sorry! I’m so, so sorry!” 

He leaned in toward you, so close you could see the line sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Tell me why you did it,” he grunted in your face. “Tell me why you play with my feelings like this. Tell me why you really wanted that break.” 

His quirk took hold of you, gripping your mind and forcing you to comply. “Because…” You hiccuped between a sob as he continued to pound and stroke your pussy, the lewd, wet sounds of your sex filling the air. “Please, Hitoshi,” you begged. “Don’t.” 

His hand suddenly shot out and wrapped around your throat. Your mouth fell open on a gasp as he squeezed. “Save it,” he growled. “You don’t get to make the rules now. I do, and I’m tellin’ you to tell me the truth.” He slowed down his thrusts, going painfully slow, his cock sliding in and out of you at a torturous speed (which was none at all). He was teasing you, forcing you to reveal your dirty little secret. “Tell me if you wanna cum.” 

You started crying then. The hold he had on you was too great. The truth settled on your tongue, the urge to reveal everything pushing through your conscious mind. “Because I was scared!” you sobbed, tears streaming down your face. “I was scared by how much I cared for you. I wanted something real with you too, ‘Toshi!” 

Hitoshi stopped moving for a moment. He only started at you for a beat, his eyes wide with astonishment and confusion. You probably looked a mess right now–makeup fucked up, mascara dripping down your cheeks, pussy soaked and pulsating around his dick. You were sure now that he knew the truth, he’d stop this entire thing because of how long you’d been fucking around with him. 

But none of that happened. In fact, the exact opposite occurred. He gripped your head with one hand and slammed his lips against yours as he slid into you, so deep that his balls touched your ass. You moaned into the passionate kiss he gave you, your pussy pulsing around him. He pulled away, wearing a firm expression and holding a fire in his eyes that almost frightened you. 

“No more bullshit after this, you hear me?” he asked, his voice strained. “We can’t be friends after this. My heart couldn’t take it, Y/N.” Before you could even process his words, he settled his hips against yours and kissed your neck as he nuzzled it. “Now do me a favor and fuckin’ cum all over my dick while I cum inside of you.” 

He began to work his hips again, slamming his cock in you again and again. The noises leaving your lips were a mess of moans and delirious giggles, your clit almost being tickled from his pelvis as he fucked you.

“Tell me who the fuck my good girl is,” he commanded. “Tell me whose a good rope bunny for me. Whose a good doll to play with?” He licked his hand and slid it between you both, proceeding to rub at your sensitive, pulsing clit. 

“M-Me!” you deliriously giggled. “I’m your good girl, your rope bunny, your good doll! I’ll be everything you want me to be, sir!” Hitoshi’s gaze darkened as he stared into your eyes, showing you all of him as you showed him all of you. “Oh, my God, I’m gonna fuck you up,” he promised before holding you up by your ankles and drilling himself inside of you again and again. 

And oh, boy, was he. You don’t think you had ever been fucked by him this way: so passionately and so desperately. His hands gripped your hips so tight that you were you had bruises and he took every moment he had to kiss you, his tongue sliding and swirling against yours. You were losing your shit–your body was tingling, each cell coming to life from the sheer pleasure you felt; your muscles felt like they were shot with tranquilizer with how loose they felt; your mind was completely blank. But your heart was full and each time it pounded, it pounded for him. 

Hitoshi wrapped a hand around your throat and squeezed again, once again restricting your breathing. “Show me,” he ordered, his voice strained and completely feral. “Show me how good you are. God, baby doll, your pussy is stroking me so good!” He hooked one arm around your ass and pistoned into you again and again, signaling his oncoming orgasm too. 

“Cum with me,” he growled against your lips. “Fuckin’ cum with me, baby!” 

You didn’t know whether it was his quirk or the way he sounded–so desperate and urgent–that made you cum all over his cock. But when it did, you knew this would be the one that would put you out like a light later. You screamed so hard that your throat went raw and your body clenched tightly, your core tightening then unraveling as you came all over Hitoshi’s dick. 

“Cumming!” he gasped. “Fuck, I’m cumming!” He slammed into you faster and harder until he finally busted inside of you, his cock swelling then exploding finally.

Ropes of hot cum shot into your pussy, making you silently gasp at the warmth you felt envelope you. He came so much that it dripped down your asscrack and coated your inner thighs. Hitoshi moaned, cussed, and shouted your name as he came undone, gripping you so close to him that you lost your breath. 

He filled you to the brim with cum until he couldn’t anymore. But he still held onto you like he was afraid you’d disappear. You felt him tremble slightly against you, his kisses soft against your heated skin. “You’re mine,” he whispered tenderly against your neck. “You’re all mine, you hear?” 

You didn’t answer. You physically couldn’t, too far gone in the high to come down. But you did eventually, and when you did, you came down hard. Your body froze and your temperature dropped, making you shiver against Hitoshi. He must have noticed this change too because he pulled away from you. “Baby doll?” he murmured worriedly. 

The hold he had on your brain was now broken. You had full control over yourself now, but even so, you still couldn’t get a good hold on yourself. It felt like your brain and body were fighting against each other. You knew you were experiencing the aftermath of a very intense session with Hitoshi, but you’ve never felt this before. It was scary. You looked into Hitoshi’s worried eyes and opened your mouth, not sure what to say but knowing you just wanted to speak to him. 

He pressed a finger to your lips, stopping you. “Don’t speak,” he urged. “Lemme get you down, okay?” Hurriedly, he slid his softened dick out of you and began to quickly untie you. He started with your legs and then worked on your wrists. You wanted to rub out the ache you felt in them, but your body was too exhausted to do so. 

He then untied the rest of your body, got you a glass of water which you gratefully sipped from, and then coaxed you to lie down under the black comforter that covered the bed. It felt like cool silk against your heated, sweaty skin. 

“Come here,” he cooed as he wrapped his arms around you. You laid against his chest, your ear pressed to his pounding heart. “It’s okay. Just let it come, baby. Just let it come.” The sound of his heartbeat against your ear took you down from your high more and more with each second until soon, your mind was clear and you felt like yourself again. 

You softly mewed like a kitten against his chest and snuggled into him, wanting him close. “Shh,” he shushed you. “Just rest. I’m right here, baby. I’m right here. I’ll always be here.” You smiled tiredly and gratefully at his sweet words. You wanted to thank him, but sleep just had other plans for you. You were out immediately, snuggled up against Hitoshi as the rain raged on outside. 

*******

You didn’t know what time you woke up, but you knew it was sometime later. 

It was still dark, but the rain had stopped. You heard nothing in Hitoshi’s darkened bedroom–only the sound of your soft breathing as you awakened. At some point, Hitoshi had turned out the light, but you didn’t remember when. You barely remembered anything, let alone why you were naked. You also smelled faintly of lavender soap and massage oil which you also didn’t remember using. 

“You’re awake.” You turned at the sound of the familiar, delicious voice behind you, finding Hitoshi sitting up against the headboard, staring down at you with those violet eyes. “You’ve been asleep for only an hour. I cleaned you up and massaged your muscles while you were out. You were, uh…quite a mess.” He smirked at you in the darkness. 

That explained why you felt so clean and relaxed. You didn’t say anything for a while–you just stared at him, your eyes adjusting more to the darkness to see the outline of his face and eyes. “How do you feel?” he asked softly. 

Though the question was quite simple, you found that you didn’t have a real answer for him. “Um…” You struggled to find the words to describe how you felt then. Good? Satisfied? No, that wouldn’t be truthful, because you still felt that emptiness inside of you as you stared at Hitoshi, knowing tonight was the last night you could truly be like this. With anyone. 

“Good,” you replied, attempting to fight the tears as you gave him a false smile. “Really, really good…” But your emotions had other plans for you. Your smile trembled and tears pushed past your eyesockets. You immediately hid your face from Hitoshi as the tears began to break. “Fuck!” you snapped into your hands. “This wasn’t supposed to happen!” 

“Hey, hey,” Hitoshi cooed, putting a hand on your thigh. “What do you mean, darlin’?” He gently pried your hands away from your face, showing your tear-soaked cheeks to him. 

You sniffled, staring down at the comforter you and him laid underneath. “Tonight was supposed to be the last night,” you confessed. “For this.” You ticked a finger between you and him.

“I knew there was no way we could be friends after doing what we’ve been doing, and I didn’t want us to be more ‘cause I was so scared you’d hurt me or that I’d hurt you!” The words flew out of you, desperate to be released like curses in Pandora’s Box. 

There it was: the truth. Out in the open. Your heart pounded as you anticipated Hitoshi’s reaction. For a minute, he stared at you, astonished. “Wow,” he huffed. “That was a lot to unpack. However, you did admit a lot of it during our scene while you were suspended.” You blinked at him, trying to remember what you said. “I did?” you asked, mortified. 

Hitoshi gave you a sheepish look as he scratched the back of his neck. “I kinda persuaded you to do it,” he confessed. “Or rather commanded you.”

He took your hands in yours, squeezing them tightly. “I just wanted to truth because I’m fuckin’ crazy about you, Y/N! I couldn’t do this with another woman even if I wanted to. You stay in my mind, so much that I thought you brainwashed me too.” 

He put a hand to your cheek and stroked his thumb across it gently. “You have me, baby.” He held his eyes with yours, and in them was a sea of tenderness and adoration that teetered just so on the edge of love. You were taken aback at this. “Hitoshi…” The tears continued to flow as utter passion exploded within you, causing you to throw yourself at him. 

“You have me too,” you whispered, the tears still streaming down your face. “I’m so sorry,” you softly sobbed into his chest. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” Hitoshi hushed you and cradled your head to his chest. He held you close and rocked you like his baby as he finally calmed down, soothed by the scent of him and his beating heart. When you finally recovered, he smiled down at you. “Feelin’ better?” he asked. 

You nodded, wiping at your wet cheeks. “So…what now?” you laughed, realizing that you were now way past FWBs. You were now real. Really real. 

Hitoshi hummed thoughtfully to himself. “Well, we didn’t finish all of that Moscato yet, and I think Netflix has some new movies out we can either make fun of or really pay attention to.” He curled an arm under your legs and coaxed you into his lap. “And then maybe, if you’re up for it, we can make up for those two weeks we didn’t have each other.” He ran his lips along your jawline, making you shiver. 

“Mmm, that sounds like a plan,” you purred, tilting your face up to kiss his chin. You ran a finger along his jawline, loving the way his eyes grew hooded. “As long as it’s with you.” 

Hitoshi’s gaze darkened, the switch in his demeanor creating a familiar warm feeling in your core. “Keep talkin’ like that and you definitely won’t be walkin’ tomorrow,” he promised before pressing an earth-shattering, toe-curling kiss to your lips. Meaning he meant that shit. And you knew it. 

You were counting on it. 

THE END.

#shinso x black reader #hitoshi x black reader #bnha smut #black coded reader #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my fic shit #my works #black writers #one shots