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eddies-house · 11 months

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The Under-Ground (18+ ONLY)

Chapter Two - Baggage

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 |

Modern!Barista!Eddie AU - As you continue to train Eddie, words are exchanged. Your life is in shambles and he only adds to it.

Enemies to Lovers, Modern!Barista!Eddie AU, Eddie x Fem Reader

12.1K Words

Warnings - Eddie is an asshole, eventual smut, mentions of drugs and drinking, I don't think there's anything else but please let me know if I missed anything

Author's Note: This story has been lingering in my mind and it took me so long to write this chapter because I want to do it right and I had the worst writer's block but now I am flooded with inspiration. Pls let me know how you feel about it so far

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The biting cold of the morning nipped at your skin, little pins and needles feeling like they were burying themselves there. The streets were glimmering with puddles, the rain from the night before leaving them behind and the moody clouds still lingering in the sky. No matter how long you’d lived in Hawkins the changing of the seasons would always sneak up on you like an unwelcome visitor. Gone were the days of walking around downtown with an iced coffee on your day off, the summer sun beaming down and flowers in full bloom while the trees were leafy and lush. No more lounging around on a bench outside of the college to complete a few assignments under the shade of a large oak tree in desperate need of a change of scenery in comparison to your shitty apartment. At least not until next Spring.

Hawkins Community College was a historical building that used to serve as the town hall but has since evolved into the college after the council elected to have the town hall relocated to a more practical location. The building was settled just south of downtown and was deemed ‘too out of the way’. Its bricks were a faded brown, weathered down over the years and not a high enough priority to keep maintained, though the sidewalks were freshly paved and the grass was as green as ever, the morning dew blanketing over it like a fresh coat of paint. The campus wasn’t very large seeing as Hawkins’ population wasn’t very impressive and the majority of its residents would travel elsewhere for college.

The front steps of the building were scuffed and scattered with various footprints from students and teachers who walked with purpose to their destination. On the very top step, front and center sat a disoriented Dustin Henderson, face scrunched up in perplexity. Though he was still attending Hawkins High as a current sophomore, he enlisted himself in one of the programs offered where students could take classes at Hawkins Community for college credits. Fingers desperately ruffling through the several papers in his dense binder, he argued with his mother while his phone was clutched in the other hand on speaker. Something about “I swear it was on the kitchen counter!” followed by the word ‘mom’ being shouted into the phone repeatedly as if it would solve his dilemma. When she apologetically let him know that there was no such mystery item, he only cursed as he facepalmed, ending the call with a defeated “Okay, love you. Bye.”

A heavy sigh escaped the boy as he slapped the binder onto the step beside him, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, agitated. Dustin was ironically your only college friend, not a best friend but you knew him well enough to gather that he’d definitely left his assignment at home and that this was going to dictate his mood for the entire day. His eyes resembled emeralds as his focus shifted from his dirty sneakers up to you, a hint of excitement swimming in the deep green of his irises.

“Rough morning?” You suggest with a sympathetic smile. He bites his lip in frustration as if he’s holding back every distressed thought racing through his head.

“Mhmm.” He squeaks, still refraining from word vomiting all over your peaceful morning, hands now resting on his denim covered knees.

“You forgot your essay, didn’t you?” You know you’ve poked the bear but you could feel how anxious he was to blow up about everything that went wrong that morning leading up to this moment and who were you to deny him? Henderson had a special place nestled in the corner of your heart, always loud and boisterous but also kind and delightful to be around.

He sucked in a breath before releasing every word that was prodding his brain. “All because my mom had to clean the goddamn house! She was all ‘Dusty, this is why we don’t leave our things around!’” He mocks his mothers voice with a high pitch, face twisting in dramatics. “I left it right on the counter where I could grab it on my way out but apparently, a ten page essay WITH MY NAME ON IT IN BIG BOLD LETTERS was thrown in the garbage. On its way to a landfill. Gone.” His shoulders tensed and all you could offer was a supportive hand to his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Dustin.” You say carefully, the kid was a ticking time bomb sometimes. He waved you off, his way of saying ‘don’t worry about it’.

“And THEN, fucking Will made the dumbest move last night at our campaign. Completely tanked the whole thing.” His hands were thrown up in misery as he recalled the memory. “Eddie had the whole thing set up perfectly, we’ve been playing this campaign for weeks!” Dustin’s eyes shifted back and forth erratically as the whole thing played out in his mind, your eyes rolled at the mention of the metalhead. “Oh he was so pissed. You shoulda seen him, he was throwing dice, screaming at Will, screaming at Mike, screaming at ME! I finally talked him off the ledge but shit, he was revved up.”

Eddie hosted their DND club a majority of the time per Dustin and from what he tells you about those nights, Eddie is always a sadistic maniac. Dustin also swears that he’s like his big brother, next in line to King Steve although Steve took on more of a dad role. There was no way to imagine Eddie embodying the role of a big brother let alone displaying any kind of pleasant behavior. You cringed at the mere idea of him, knowing you’d have to endure him at work this evening.

Dustin continued his rant passionately. “And I’m sorry, I know you hate when I bring up Eddie for whatever reason but dude was not having it. My special edition dice are now lost in the abyss underneath his couch.” You shake your head in disapproval. “I told him I’d let it slide though cause he said he’d let me go with him to a concert.” He concludes with a shrug.

At this you nudge the boy’s shoulder, disappointed. “Dustin! He can’t bribe his way out of losing your dice after chucking them when he has a temper tantrum! If those dice are important to you then you need to stand your ground.” You instruct him.

He lets out a long sigh before responding. “Socks, respectfully, this is how our friendship with Eddie works. We piss each other off and then we move on. Like a few weeks ago, he kept making sexual sounds while I was on the phone with my mom so I hid his shoes from him after he got really stoned.” At this you can’t help but release a laugh.

“Good on you, Henderson.” You praise. “I guess I won’t need to step in when I see him at work later then. Sounds like you can handle yourself.” You begin pulling your binder from your bag in preparation for class.

Dustin shakes his head in confusion, waving his arms in front of him like he’s missing a piece of the puzzle. “Hold up, Eddie’s a barista now?” His tone is humorous, on the brink of cackling.

“Uh huh.” You answer nonchalantly while opening your binder and shuffling through a few papers, making a note in your planner for some homework you just remembered off the top of your head. “And our dear Stevie knew about it before me and just decided it’d be a good idea to see my reaction when he walked in the door for his first shift yesterday.” You chew on your pen as you attempt to remember any other assignments you may have forgotten to write down.

“Eddie? Eddie Munson? Metalhead, former drug dealer, thought it would be funny to piss in Steve’s beer, Eddie Munson? That Eddie?” Dustin gapes at you in disbelief to which you nod. “I’m sorry but–there’s no fucking way! A barista? He doesn’t even drink coffee, he hates trendy little cafes, and there’s no goddamn way he would apply for a job where both you AND Steve work. Sounds like his own personal hell.” The boy is laughing, clutching his stomach.

You hang your head and giggle along with him. As awful as the situation was, it did sound ridiculous enough to laugh. “I thought the same thing, Dusty. The universe just has it out for us.” You refer to you and Steve. As much as you had a rivalry with Eddie, Steve had his own beef with the guy. This posed as an issue seeing as Steve practically mothered Lucas, Mike, Will, Dustin, Max, and El ever since he was in high school when he dated Nancy Wheeler. The way Eddie and Steve fought resembled a divorced couple exchanging their kids in a Walmart parking lot. And to Steve’s disadvantage, Eddie always ended up at the notorious parties he threw since one of the kids always ended up blabbing after he distinctly told them not to. It always put a damper on your night when he showed up, giving you flashbacks to that one party years ago that you swore you’d forget about but it still lingered in the back of your mind.

“I hope you know this means that everyone’s going to be placing bets on who ends up dead first.” Dustin raises a brow at you, throwing his arm over your shoulder, shaking it playfully.

Standing up as classes were about to start, you shot him a glare. “I can definitely take him.” You state, holding your hand out to help him up. He takes it and shrugs, a grin on his face that tells you ‘I don’t know about that’. “Dustin. Please don’t tell me you think Eddie is going to get to me.” You scoff as he opens the heavy metal door leading into the building, the hinges creaking.

His face indicates that he’s bouncing a thought around before answering. “Well…” he begins. “You don’t know what he’s capable of. The guy is a menace. He can play games for as long as he needs to.” He further explains.

“Okay, you know what? I’m done talking about some asshole who doesn’t even matter to me.” You decide, the mostly vacant hallways echoing your footsteps as you step into the heated building.

“Ugh, it’s like having three parents who don’t get along. I know Eddie is a lot but maybe if you, I dunno, hung out with him you’d realize he’s actually also really cool.” Dustin has the audacity to suggest.

Huffing out a breath and holding your binder to your chest, you give him your final piece of mind. “Munson is never going to even get the time of day out of me let alone a besties hangout sesh.” You snap bitterly. Dustin’s hands raise in surrender, you’re done with this conversation and he knows better than to try and change your mind.

“Anyway…” he sighs, dropping his shoulders while you both make your way through the beige halls. “Max and Lucas are back together again.” He nudges your shoulder with his, causing you to sway as you walk. The couple were always on again, off again. One week Lucas would do something dumb like stand her up by accident to go to the mall with Mike and another Max would invalidate his feelings. It was something they claimed they were working out but after every breakup, everyone always reacted with an eye roll, knowing full well that the routine would repeat itself. You truly did root for them but if they were going to keep hurting each other, there was no reason for them to continue the relationship.

Glancing at Dustin, your face tells him that you’re not amused. “Tell me something new, Henderson.” You deadpan. He nods, exhaling as he racks his brain.

“Holy shit!” He sounds as if he’d just had a revelation. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you!” His feet stomp on the linoleum floors in excitement, sneakers squeaking against the surface. “But you have to PROMISE not to tell anyone.” A finger is pointed at you in warning as you nod for him to continue. Dustin was very bad at keeping secrets. “Steve has a girlfriend.” He chirps.

Stopping dead in your tracks, shoes screeching against the floor, your eyes widen. Steve told you everything so if Dustin’s accusations were true you were going to have some words for him for not telling you. “Who?!” You inquire, full attention on the curly headed boy. “You’re lying, Steve would’ve told me!” You whine like a child.

“That’s the thing, he hasn’t told anyone. I saw some girl getting out of his car the other night in the mall parking lot. I didn’t get a good look at who it was cause it happened so fast.” He explains.

Your excitement drops at his words. “Dustin, that doesn’t mean he has a girlfriend, that means he’s messing around, he does it all the time.” You remind him of his reputation as King Steve.

“Well pardon me for being an optimist.” He sasses you, the two of you approaching the class.

“You’re really bad at gossiping.” You finish before stepping into the room, leaving him offended in the hallway.

–

Class was as bland as ever, your professor, Mr. Randall lectured about marketing the whole two and a half hours and you nearly fell asleep six times, Dustin jabbing the eraser end of his pencil into your side each time you started slouching as he caught up on his calculus homework. The closer to the evening it got, the more on edge you grew knowing you wouldn’t get to work the peaceful closing shift you were once used to but instead suffer a stress-inducing nightmare while training the local terror of Hawkins. Life sucked all the way around at the moment.

Bidding Dustin a ‘see you later’ while you were walking in sync just outside the building where you always parted, he flashed you a grin before begging you to snap him a photo of Eddie at work to send it to him later. More than likely for blackmail reasons for the next time they were pissing each other off. Their relationship was something you couldn’t quite get a grasp on however you didn’t attempt to even understand it past the fact that for some reason Dustin admired the man child as well as despised him sometimes in that brotherly way.

“Dustin, fuck off.” You tell him with a playful tone.

“What!? You don’t even like the guy. I’d venture to even say that this would be benefiting you in the long run.” He clasps his hands together in front of him in a pleading motion but you don’t seem to budge which his face falls at.

“I don’t need to be involved in your little war, I have my own!” A dramatic wave of your arms is enough to stop him from prodding.

With that you departed from the campus and headed straight to downtown a few hours shy of your shift to lounge around and chat with Robin. It was either that or go back to your shitty apartment and sit in the freezing stale air, at least this way you could revel in the warmth of the shop and sip on a hot chocolate which happened to be your favorite and the only hot drink you would ever order. Every other option had to be iced or it was a no go.

It was around two in the afternoon so there was time to be killed until five. You figured you’d grab your hot chocolate, gossip with Robin and Steve for a little, maybe work on some assignments, and then take a little walk through the park at the center of the square, a solid plan. The morning chill was long gone and it was now a tad warmer with the sun sitting high in the sky. The sidewalks were vacant since everyone was either at work or still in school which was a plus in your book, you liked to keep to yourself and found it especially annoying when you had to stop to interact with random patrons and were expected to indulge in stupid small talk that was lost on you the second you walked away.

A thirty minute walk later and you’d finally reached The Under-Ground, the smell of espresso already invading your nose before you even stepped into the building. As you reached for the metal handle, the door had already swung open with the bell chiming above it, a rushed Joyce Byers stumbling out with two full cup holders of hot coffees nearly flying out of her hands, eyes panicked and a startled gasp escaping her.

She mumbles your name with a nervous grin, her nose tinted pink from the fall air. “So sorry! I didn’t mean to run you over–I just–I was in such a hurry. I forgot to get the coffee for a staff meeting.” She further explains apologetically as she gestures with a tilt of her head to Melvald’s.

Your expression softens, Joyce was always the sweetest person you’d ever met and she was a regular at the shop. She was one person you didn’t mind engaging in small talk with because she was genuinely interested in your answers and took the initiative to further the conversation, asking how things were and telling you to let her know if you ever needed anything. You never took her up on the offer, there was no reason to bother her. Joyce was somewhat of a mother figure but in a quiet manner and you were so grateful whenever she graced you with her presence. Her boys were well mannered too, she’d done an amazing job raising them as a single mom. Obviously you’d hung out with Will since Steve was the designated neighborhood mom and that granted you rights to the movie nights, pool parties, and just about anything that Steve hosted which meant all the kids were there too. Will was a sweet kid, he was shy at first but an absolute menace once he was comfortable enough.

For some reason you had a connection with him as well as Joyce, they were like family just not by blood. Will had always comforted you if things ever felt off. If no one else in the group noticed your shift in mood, Will did and he would approach it graciously, silently nodding at you to ask if you were okay. From there you would communicate through your eyes and he’d gather what you were feeling from that alone. It was like having telepathy and somehow you would both silently step out from whatever scene you were in the middle of. If it was at Steve’s, the two of you would perch yourselves on the front steps and you would just let him know you weren’t feeling that great mentally. The conversation really wouldn’t go further than that but it didn’t need to, he was just there for you and you for him. It worked both ways, if Will looked particularly lonely you would nod your head toward the door and you’d both meet outside. Sometimes he’d hint that he found it annoying how clingy El and Mike were but you knew it meant that he was sick to his stomach that his best friend and his crush were basically making out on top of him. Jonathan had always made it a point to bring you to the side and thank you for providing that support to his brother and that it meant a lot to him. You’d always offer a small smile in return. The Byers held a special place in your heart, they were so effortlessly nice just because. They had no ulterior motive, just the intention to be good people.

Taking in Joyce’s disoriented demeanor, you shake your head and help her to steady a leaning coffee that almost escaped the cup holder. “That’s okay, I almost crashed into you.” You tell her.

“No, that was my fault! I really wanna catch up with you but I have to go!” She says rather quickly, worried as she begins to scurry back to Melvald’s. Telling her you’ll have to catch up soon over coffee and that she knows where to find you, she agrees and hurries into the store. You can’t help letting out a small giggle at her antics.

Finally sauntering into The Under-Ground, the warmth wraps around you like a cozy cocoon, something that was all too unfamiliar at this stage in your life given the circumstances of your apartment where you were meant to spend most of your time but did everything in your power to stay away from. You welcomed the hot air like a big hug, eyes shutting in content with a deep sigh. The tables are empty save for one in the very corner where a businessman sipped on a latte while putting together a powerpoint on his laptop. Steve leaned against the counter scrolling away until he felt your gaze on him, raising his brows in expectancy.

“You’re here early…” He points out.

Irritably, you set your bag on one of the tables before making your way over to the register. “So what you’re saying is, you’re not happy to see me, Stevie?” You ask with mock hurt.

Steve scoffs as he stands on the opposite side of the register as if to ring you up. “You know that’s not what I mean.” He explains. “I mean, you seem to be coming in earlier and earlier. Can’t get enough of me?” A wink is offered your way.

You gag at this, painting disgust on your features. “No offense but you’re not my type and I think you know that by now.” You joke. The chances of you and Steve getting together were as great as the chances of him and Robin getting together, zero. And it was mutual but you had this ongoing joke. “Now can you please make me a hot chocolate?” You request with a pout. “Pleeeeease.” You add, swaying back and forth like a child asking their mother for candy.

All you receive in return is an eye roll as he begrudgingly obliges and spins on his heels to prepare the drink. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You tell him in an annoyingly high pitched voice.

“Whatever, SOCKS.” He pronounces the nickname loudly, the businessman in the corner momentarily looking up at him in displeasure. You give Steve a glare while taking a seat at your chosen table in the book corner, mouthing his words, mocking him with a dramatic facial expression.

Shortly after taking a seat, Robin emerges from the back and claims the chair next to you silently, her hair thrown up in a messy ponytail on top of her head, face indicating business. “You see, Steve was given one job and that was to ask you how last night went with Munson but clearly he was incapable of even the smallest task.” She rants. “So here I am. Asking. How did it go? Is he still alive?” She pushes, crossing her arms while awaiting an answer.

Raising a brow at her, you continue pulling out your laptop as planned. “I’m only gonna say this once.” You affirm. Steve’s ears perk up as he rushes over while struggling to fit the lid onto your hot chocolate, face twisted in concentration as he approaches the table. “He’s the actual spawn of the devil and I have contemplated quitting–” Robin goes to interrupt you before you hold up a finger, finishing your thoughts. “But I will not give him that power and I’m going to keep working and will only talk to him when absolutely necessary. I’m also going to forever hold a grudge against Steve for even letting Munson hear the nickname ‘Socks’. My tranquil closing time has become my own private hell, thanks Steve.” You ramble. “Also, yes. He’s still very much alive, unfortunately.” You say in monotone.

Steve looks taken back, a hand flying up over his heart in surprise, temporarily giving up on securing the lid of your drink. “Thanks, Steve??? I didn’t personally hire him! I admit I slipped up on the name but give me a break here.” He whines.

You reach for the hot chocolate, making grabby hands as you frown at a distraught Steve, hoping he’ll at least nudge the cup toward your reach. He throws his hands up in the air with a scoff. “Socks, I didn’t mean to rile you up by not telling you he got hired, okay?! I made a dumb decision thinking it would be better for you and it bit me in the ass. I’m sorry.” In usual Steve fashion he stares at you with giant pleading eyes, his long lashes blinking at you while his lips pout, all pretty and pink as if he were a Barbie doll.

“Really, Steve?” Robin mocks, a smirk pulling at her lips.

You finally pipe up, still reaching for the drink across the table. “Steve, I’ll forgive you if you hand me my drink.” You bargain, tongue darting out in concentration as you inch your fingers toward the chocolatey goodness hidden in a paper cup. Steve snatches it up and pushes it into your hands, the warmth of the beverage consuming your palms. The lid is still barely sitting on top, you gently pull it off to allow it to cool down.

Triumphantly, Steve strolls back behind the counter. “So we’re good? I’m free of my mistake?” He shouts to you. You and Robin share a look, her attempting to take a sip of your hot chocolate only to burn her tongue, a series of huffing noises leaving her as he waves her hands up and down in front of her mouth.

“Hoth, hoth, hoth.” She lisps.

You offer Steve a thumbs up from across the room while shaking your head at Robin. “All good, Stevie. Until the next time you cross me.” You half joke. “Robin, it’s hot chocolate. Hot.” You remind her as she pinches her tongue with her fingers, her brows knit together. She whines in response, rushing away to relieve her scalded tongue with some water. It turns out, you didn’t get that gossip session with Robin seeing as she was too occupied with soothing her tongue along with a sudden wave of customers. Next time, you suppose. You’ll have another chance to rant and rave to each other soon enough.

–

The espresso machine whirs and creates a hum as you craft a macchiato for the customer standing idly by the to go counter. It’s 5:15. And you work the shop alone. Not that you would usually complain, the evening rush was nothing you couldn’t handle on your own but training a new hire wasn’t something you could bypass so either way it would need to get done and the sooner your new terror of a coworker could do things independently, the better. And yet, he was fifteen minutes late, nowhere in sight, not even the roar of his stupid motorcycle in the distance.

Robin and Steve had taken off at five on the dot, Steve complaining that he was responsible for hauling everyone to Lucas’ basketball game and you grateful for having the night shift. Sports were a complete snoozefest and although you’d love to support Lucas it just wasn’t your scene. Of course you’d go when you were free but there was that sliver of relief when you weren’t required to subject yourself to the highschool gym full of sweaty kids and squeaking shoes.

With a polite smile, the drink is gingerly handed to the customer and you are offered a half assed thank you before they exit, no eye contact while they stare down at their phone. You shrug it off, glancing around at the few people that are lounging around at the tables either working on their laptops or reading. Everyone seems satisfied and no tables are in need of tidying or wiping down so you return to the hot chocolate you had been nursing, now chocolate milk if anything but still delicious. Leaning against the counter as you sip, you allow yourself a moment of meditation, breathing in–and out–in—and out, the cocoa taste lingering on your tongue in between sips.

As if god himself had it out for you, your brief moment of silence and tranquility is rudely interrupted by the blaring engine of a certain someone’s dumbass motorcycle, whipping around the corner and into a spot dead center in front of the shop. You note that you’ll have to have a conversation with him about parking in the back so customers can actually use those spots provided–he won’t listen but at least Ronnie won’t be able to put the blame on you. Rolling your eyes at the delinquent, he makes his way into the building, pulling his helmet off and shaking his shaggy mane around like a dog.

Knowing that you can’t reprimand him the way you so desire in front of customers, you shoot him daggers from where you lean, gripping the paper cup tight enough to leave crescents from your nails. If he doesn’t even have the decency to show up for work on time, why should you have to endure closing with him every night? Why is it that you’re seemingly being punished by the universe? Haven’t you had enough already? My apartment sucks, I sleep on a lumpy mattress in the corner on the hard ass floor, my heater doesn’t work even though it's getting cold, hell, even some of my lights don’t work, rent is being raised next month, classes are kicking my ass, and now that actual spawn of satan gets to unleash his wrath on me every day. The thoughts consume you momentarily until Eddie spins around from clocking in on the computer, delivering a smirk with an amused expression underlying his features. And you’re having none of it, it’s only his second day and he’s pulling this shit? Absolutely not.

Your brows furrow in rage but your voice comes out in a hushed but cruel whisper. “Were you out rolling with the raccoons again?” You refer to the time he crashed one of Steve’s parties, maybe it was New Years; he got so wasted that he began befriending some raccoons out near the pool. He laid on the ground for at least two hours and nearly cried when they ran off, crushing whatever dream he had of either taking them home or whatever he was planning in his drunken state of mind. In any case, it was something everyone held over him, especially you on the rare occasion that you had to associate with him–so if he wanted to dick around at work and make your life hell (as if he hadn’t already done that) then you would throw anything you could at him to cause him grief. There was no playing nice.

The slightest hue of pink makes its way across his cheeks before he straightens his posture in a means to intimidate you. “Calm down there, Socks. Don’t get your panties in a twist over lil ol’ me.” His brow raises as if to challenge you. Your comment got to him–flustered him. He’s trying to hide it but you can detect the embarrassment seeping out of his pores, the hatred he has for the fact that he let his vulnerability slip out in his drunken haze that night and the look on your face indicating that you have the upperhand here.

Taking the lid off of your remaining hot chocolate gone cold, you slurp up the contents of the cup, a layer of the melty whip cream decorating your top lip as you give him a cocky glare. “Trust me, nobodies getting their panties in a twist over you, Munson.” You reply, checking around him to make sure no customers are listening in on the exchange.

His notorious grin takes over his features, dimples on full display and you could just kick him in his stupid teeth. Leaning in ever so slightly, his breath fans over your face, tobacco evident. One hand rests next to you on the counter, the other gripping his helmet. “Nice stache.” He whispers, tapping the counter twice before heading toward the back.

Nice stache? What kind of come back–oh. You gently bring your fingers up to your top lip, feeling the obvious whip cream sitting comfortably there and you feel your blood run hot in embarrassment as well as rage. What makes it worse is that he had nothing to do with it, it just happened and that gave him the upperhand in return. The universe or some higher power really it out for you and clearly wasn’t rooting for you in this war.

Tossing the cup angrily into the trash and wiping off your lip, a quiet groan escapes you, Eddie sauntering in actually wearing an apron today. Except it's littered in several pins and patches, some room in between to add more later on. “Do you even care that you’re–” You check the clock. “Twenty minutes late?!” You finish, still attempting to stay quiet enough that the remaining customer’s wouldn’t hear. “And–and your apron. Do you think you can do whatever you want?” You whisper yell furiously. A stupid question, you realize as it tumbles out of your mouth.

“Yes, actually. I’m a free man in a free country. What a foreign concept.” He says tying his hair back into a low bun, a few select pieces framing his face. “Why don’t you worry about yourself.” He snaps. “Also…” He begins with a point of his finger. “Who the hell drinks hot chocolate as someone who works in a coffee shop?” He mocks. You can’t help but glance at the glint that catches at his earlobe, a little silver hoop reflecting off the lights, something you otherwise wouldn’t notice if not for his hair being pulled back. You would dare to even call it cute if he wasn’t such a menace, an absolute barbarian that you vowed to never give the time of day to again and yet here you are, giving several hours of your life.

A scoff is earned from you while you cross your arms, leaning on one hip with sass. The attitude is there but you have no response to counter him. He stares at you expectantly and you come up with nothing but a mumble under your breath. “Caffeine makes me anxious.” He barely catches it, humming for you to repeat it again. “Hot chocolate doesn’t have caffeine in it, I try to limit my caffeine okay!?” You snap, still quiet enough to not draw attention.

Rolling his eyes, he seems to ignore your answer and strolls over to the front counter, reaching over and snatching up a ham and cheese sandwich without a care in the world, immediately tearing into it. You resist the urge to grab it right out of his hand and launch it across the room, instead opting to massage your temples with your fingers, taking deep breaths. It was either that or you’d have a homicide charge on your hands. Sure you also snuck sandwiches from the cooler however you were discrete and no one ever noticed. If Eddie kept it up, you’d get in trouble for his misbehavior.

“Do you want this job or not?” You sigh, trying to reason. He chews disgustingly on the sandwich, crumbs rolling down his chest. He shrugs. A scream is awaiting in your lungs, an unreleased scream of pent up rage for the immature boy towering over you. It doesn’t escape but it so desperately wants to. “Munson.” You grit your teeth, fists forming at your sides.

“Hmm?” He hums carelessly, scarfing down the remaining bites and tossing the wrapper into the trash.

Another deep breath, you try to clear your energy. “If we don’t at least cooperate here, I am out of a job and I cannot afford to be out of a job.” You plead with him, eyes becoming the slightest bit watery much to your distaste. It’s not on purpose, things are really just that bad.

“What? Did your trust fund run out?” He bites, and it hurts. Though it's not the most vile thing someone could say it pinches you and leaves behind a nagging pain. Trust fund? Who did he think you were?

“Excuse me?” You breathe out, stepping slightly closer to him, still on alert for any customers who might listen in but you’re still in the clear.

“Yeah, did mommy and daddy cut you off? Welcome to the real world.” His words are like knives cutting into your skin. They shouldn’t be, you know that. His words are meaningless to you–are they though? Where did he even come up with the idea that you came from any sort of wealth? Sure in high school you were stable enough but nowhere near Harrington wealthy. Was he referring to you living comfortably? If that's the case he would be elated to know that you had close to nothing these days. But you can’t give him that satisfaction.

Brushing off the interaction as if nothing was said, you grab the clipboard from one of the drawers to find where you left off in training last night and what boxes remained to be checked off. “So yesterday we learned cleaning procedures and counting the register. Today we pick up learning drink recipes.” You suck it up and push through. His words are nothing, he is nothing. A certain emotion flashes in his eyes when you glance up to scold him for not paying attention. You can’t put your finger on what it is but it must be some type of regret for taking this job, there’s something sadder to it though. He is nothing to me but a warning from the universe on what to stay away from.

–

“Okay so five pumps of caramel.” Eddie confirms with you, eyes drooping in boredom. The shop is now devoid of customers, the evening rush long gone as it was now 7:30 and you only expected to see maybe five more customers at most before closing, giving you ample time to stuff Eddie’s dumb brain with all the drink recipes possible so he could eventually do everything by himself and you’d no longer have to convene with him.

An exhale leaves your lungs while you rest your head in your hands on the counter, shaking your head. “No. Four. Four pumps of caramel. Four.” You reiterate, patience wearing thin. At least he wasn’t arguing with every word that left your mouth. “Let’s take a break from that one and try this one instead.” You advise, pushing a new recipe card in front of him. This one was for a simple iced mocha. “So for this one you start off with three pumps of chocolate and then two shots of espresso.” You instruct, eyes tired and the bags underneath them giving it away.

Eddie reaches for one of the syrups and before you can stop him, he’s pumping three pumps of hazelnut into the cup, your hand smacking your face in frustration. “Eddie, do you just not read the labels?” You question.

He fakes a laugh, shoving the syrup back into its place. “Do you just not read the labels?” He mocks in a high voice. Your patience is wavering but you know you just need to get through this. The sooner he finishes training, the sooner you will have peace and quiet.

“Try again.” You tell him, holding back all of the anger rattling in your bones. He rolls his eyes and grabs the correct syrup this time. Except as he pumps it into the cup, you find that his pumps are way too big, not like you taught him earlier. He’s pushing down too far. “Too far! You’re pumping too far, it’s too much!” You tell him as the bottom of the cup becomes filled too high with chocolate, practically taking up where the espresso should go.

“Okay, you are like the worst teacher ever.” He states while sloshing around the flavored syrup in the clear cup, coating it around the sides as it maneuvers in his hand.

A hand drags down your face and you swear you’ve lost years of your life just in the past two nights. “Train yourself then.” You slap your hand on the counter, making your way over to the book corner and taking a seat in your favorite spot near the window to gaze at the streetlights.

His face contorts in confusion as if he had no idea why you were giving up on him. “Fine.” He mutters, taking a look at the little card that had the instructions for an iced vanilla coffee concoction. He can’t stop himself from glancing over to you in the corner, the warm glow of the street lights embracing you like a blanket. And he can’t shy away from the pang of guilt in his chest. Yet he continues to find himself at your throat every time, and you at his rightfully so. At least you have reason to be, he’s just a pathetic excuse of emotions buried under skin that dug himself so deep into a hole over the years there was no way out and all he could do was what he did best–shove people away and just play the part that had always been assigned to him since birth.

The sudden wail of the blender has you jolting and looking over behind the counter only to find Eddie manning the machine. You were too beyond exhausted to care anymore. If he wanted to start making milkshakes in spite of you then so be it. Your sight continued to set on the glow of the streetlights over the sidewalk. It didn’t rain today or tonight thankfully since you’d have to walk home. As you close your eyes, you imagine the warmth of the lights engulfing you and bask in the heat of the shop, silently cursing your landlord for not being attentive to your broken heater, leaving you with chattering teeth every night. If you could sleep in the back room you would, however that would be an awkward conversation with Ronnie and the openers, Max and El who took on the earliest shift from 4:30AM to 8:30AM, when Robin and Steve would relieve them of their duties. It was funny how your whole group seemed to now run The Under-Ground but you couldn’t come up with a better team if you tried. Save for Eddie, you could definitely find someone a hundred times better and then you would have the perfect team.

You continued to wander around in your imagination, the blender coming to a halt but you were too lost to even open an eye. The sound of cups scattering on the counter had you wincing but not once leaving your mind, not yet. It was rare that you were able to just sit and not think about the stressors in your life. That relaxation is shattered when a cup is slammed down in front of you, the noise causing you to jump back in your seat, eyes flashing open only to be meant with a perfectly curated blended iced mocha, down to the whip cream and chocolate drizzle on top. Behind it stands Eddie with his arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes stuck on the drink and not your reaction. All you offer is a nod, hand wrapping around the cup as you push it back toward him across the dark wood. What did he want? An applause? He did his job, congratulations.

“Good?” He asks for approval, much to your surprise.

“Mhm.” You nod again, standing up and making your way back behind the counter, leaving him to stare at his creation. There was no way you would give him any type of praise even if he did make the drink without any flaws.

“You didn’t even taste it.” He continues to stare down at the beverage on the table, his voice monotone.

As you start to mark a few things off for inventory, pen gliding across the paper, you hold out your other hand, paying him no mind in any other manner. Reluctantly, he scoops up the drink and strides over, shoving it in your hand like a pissed off child. You take a sip and are impressed that it actually tastes good but rather than give him any kind of compliment, you offer another nod. He’s starting to hate that response and if he receives another nod from you he may pull his hair out. The cold condensation stings your palm so you set the drink down, again pushing it toward him without so much as a glance.

“Just admit it, Socks.” He starts, grabbing the mocha and licking the whip cream from the top. “I did good and you hate it. Oh but if King Steve or Robin made it you’d be falling at their feet.” His tone is low and his gaze is intense as he burns into your side profile.

Continuing to ignore him, you jot down a few notes on the inventory sheet for some things that Ronnie may need to order more of on the next shipment. He scoffs, beginning to walk away from you when you decide to speak up. “Steve and Robin didn’t make me hate myself.” You remind him. It’s as if time slowed down the moment you spoke, the way you let the words roll off your tongue so truthfully, as if those words were in the bible. Eddie wasn’t religious by any means but that’s how disastrous your words felt. Yet he still finds comfort in playing his part.

“I made you hate yourself?” He seethes. “I made you hate yourself.” He repeats gritting his teeth. He knows he shouldn’t let himself go any further, it's a bad idea and it's simply not true what he’s about to say. But he can’t stop himself from assuming his role, he doesn’t know any different. He shouldn’t venture into territory where he knows he can never return from. “Babe.” The name is far from its endearing meaning, its dripping in hostility, soaked in venom. “I never made you hate yourself, you did that just fine all on your own.” The moment the words pierce the air he knows he shouldn’t have said them because there wasn’t even the slightest hint of honesty. The ugliest parts of him jumped out and now he has to suffer the damages.

A swell of tears stings the backs of your eyes and you desperately suck them back, refusing to let him have this. Your fists clench as you drop the pen from your grasp, your side profile still facing him, him standing in your peripheral. Suddenly you're gripping the counter with white knuckles, slowly shifting your gaze to the cowardly man a few feet away. His mouth opens and closes as if trying to take back what he said but he’s coming to realize it isn’t an option. In all honesty, the way you look right now frightens him. There’s suddenly no emotion behind your gaze. And then you fire right back at him.

“I hope you hate yourself just as much as I hate myself. I hate you more than I hate myself.” It stings like a deep scrape after you’ve fallen off your bike as a child, the dirt wedging itself into the skin. Again, his mouth opens and closes but there’s nothing to respond with. This may be his last shift since you’re probably going to tell Ronnie that he did some kind of fucked up thing just to get him fired and Ronnie will believe you over him–of course he will. He deserves it. But it would also mean he’s back right where he started, no one wanting to hire him. The Munson name really carried its burdens. He already had a secure job during the day at the auto shop, Jax & Sons but he needed the extra income. The only reason Ronnie hired him at The Under-Ground was because the owner, Beth’s husband Sam, owned The Hideout and Eddie was at least welcome there with the other rejects most of the time. While The Hideout wasn’t hiring, Sam referred him to The Under-Ground and assured him he would put in a good word with his wife. They were too good to him and he was starting to regret their kindness toward him, he deserved to be run over and have the shit kicked out of him.

No further words were spoken the rest of the night. Eddie was handed the clip board with the checklist for training, a silent demand that he train himself the rest of the shift while you occupied yourself with finishing some inventory, cleaning, and serving the few customers that came in. He quietly figured things out, familiarizing himself with the ingredients and learning quicker than he thought. Whenever he had a question, he refrained and decided he’d either ask you at a later time or eventually sort it out on his own. He should quit but there weren’t any other options if he wanted to keep himself fed and continue saving up to get out of Hawkins. Nowhere else was going to hire him, especially for the night shift. He was lucky they even trusted him to close with a girl though Sam seemed to put the rumors about him to rest if his wife and Ronnie had anything to hold against him and he would forever be grateful although now he didn’t feel he deserved that grace even if he was an innocent man that never amounted to the things his dad did.

–

Night after night for the remainder of the week, the evening shift was filled with tension and bruised feelings. If you had to so much as speak to Eddie it would be short and to the point, no sugarcoating. Each time you instructed him to clean something or do a task he would roll his eyes but oblige. He was the least of your problems and you were going to make sure it stayed that way. His training was almost complete and he was starting to pick up on a rhythm which meant you wouldn’t have to engage with him nearly as much. By Friday you’d fallen into a routine and while not in the best of circumstances, it was fine since not a whole lot of arguing happened since the previous incident.

You would attend to the customers with a friendly smile and a higher than your normal octave voice as usual and he would be his sarcastic self while also seeming to charm people with his damn dimples. Ronnie didn’t appear to be phased by all the pins and patches that adorned Eddie’s apron when he made an appearance randomly yesterday, to your dissatisfaction. You guess as long as none of them had anything offensive then he left him alone. Why did you care anyway? You didn’t.

The evening swarm of coffee addicts had arrived and you churned out drinks left and right, earning tips with the help of your perky attitude that you’d learn to put on over time. It aggravated you that Eddie had no issue charming his way into bigger tips, it’s like he was a professional. Some patrons would give him nasty looks while others, particularly the older moms who you’d definitely seen with a husband at some point, would pay him extra attention and drop larger bills into the tip jar while flipping their hair and lingering around longer than necessary. It made your stomach churn. Regardless, you continued to put on a smile and work through the rush, hoping by the end of the night the tips split up would give you a little bit of extra rent money to save for next month. It wasn’t like you were in a position to save money, living paycheck to paycheck but something had to give and you needed that cushion so you actually had a place to live.

As the night winded down and people were heading home, neglecting the coffee shop until early in the morning, you took a rag to the tables to clean and straighten up while Eddie obnoxiously banged on the espresso machine that had been giving everyone a hard time all week, periodically getting stuck and then spewing espresso everywhere. “Fuckin’ piece of shit machine.” He mutters, trying to pry off the panel to get a look inside at the machinery.

Not wanting to be responsible for a five hundred dollar machine broken by none other than your jackass coworker, you decide to step in, shouting over to him. “Would you knock it off? We have someone who comes in to fix the machines and I’m not going to be responsible–” A loud clank of metal stops you as Eddie jiggles a screwdriver you weren’t even sure how he found in the machine. He pries the screwdriver into the machine as if trying to loosen something stuck in the gears, succeeding when a few coffee beans fly out and fall to the floor, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Fixed it.” He confirms, shutting the panel and running the machine with a test shot of espresso, the liquid coming out smoothly rather than spraying him in the face. You shake your head, choosing to keep your mouth shut. If anything bad happens with the machine you didn’t see it and it wasn’t your fault. You were not an accomplice if it malfunctioned on his watch.

Eddie glances over at you now sweeping up under one of the tables, somewhat disappointed that you won’t revel in his victory over the machine but also remembering the atmosphere he created from the very beginning, never deserving your positive attention in the first place. It was 8:00PM, only an hour away from closing and the college students who had occupied the tables earlier were no longer around, the only sounds being the upbeat jazz music playing from the speakers. He sparked an idea.

Jogging to the back room where his eye caught the music system the very first day, he starts messing around with it, fingers searching in the back where his eyes can’t see behind the wall for a wire. Biting his lip in concentration, he locates it with a triumphant hum.

Too overcome with sweeping the floors clean, you only notice Eddie is no longer in the room when a shrieking guitar blares through the shop’s speakers, leaving you covering your ears and dropping the broom with a smack to the ground. It’s some kind of metal song that you’ve possibly heard before but wouldn’t be able to recall the name. Before you can map out your next moves, Eddie appears in the doorway to the back, grinning ear to ear genuinely. “I hacked the stereo, how sick is that?” He goes back to his spot behind the counter, head banging away.

“Shut it off!” You yell over the noise. Either he pretends not to hear you or he really can’t hear you over how loud it is. Now you’re afraid that some of the neighboring businesses will call the cops or something and it’s on your dime. “Eddie!” You shout once again with no reaction from him. You take the initiative and scurry into the back, finding the stereo system with a wire coming out of it and Eddie’s phone plugged in. You scowl and unplug it, killing all sound, an offended “what the fuck!” heard from the front of the shop as you soothe your ear drums in the quiet.

He starts to make his way toward the back only to be stopped by you nearly running him over as you walk with a purpose back out to finish cleaning. “Um, excuse you?” He gestures your way as if you’d stepped on his ego.

The broom is picked back up from its spot on the floor and you finish off by sweeping the remaining dirt into the dust pan, not responding. When you look up again, he’s not there and you know he’s definitely gone to the back to plug his phone back in. Your suspicions are confirmed when the riff is taking over the speakers once again, drums pounding through the sound system. A groan emerges from deep within you as you empty the dust pan into the trash. There was no winning with him, he always pushed back and you had no energy to keep up. As he emerges from the back again, he doesn’t even look in your direction.

“Can you at least turn it down!?” You yell over the music, hoping he would find some kind of humility within himself so you didn’t go home with a headache. It wasn’t just that it was too loud, it was overwhelming, your anxiety was spiking and no matter how much you breathed and told yourself to calm down, the volume of the song playing had your heart rate beating faster than you felt it could even keep up with. Eddie continues ignoring you, and you know damn well that he heard your request since you were close enough, standing just a few feet away. You swallowed hard as you attempted to keep your cool, keep your nervous system in check. I’m okay, I’m okay, nothing is going to happen.

And there was no reason to believe anything bad would happen but your brain was screaming at you that the escalation of the metal riff playing was a warning signal and you couldn’t talk yourself off the ledge. As much as you tried to contain your breathing and keep it steady, it became erratic as you stumbled over to one of the tables and thankfully made it into a chair. Your elbows rested on the table top while you covered your ears in an attempt to muffle the suddenly overwhelming sound that wouldn’t otherwise bother you had it not taken you by surprise earlier and had the volume not been set the highest the speakers allowed.

The world around you blurred out while you seemed to fall apart because of a stupid issue you had with loud sounds that caught you off guard. You couldn’t think straight, you couldn’t even think to just run to the back and unplug it again. You didn’t even register that there were hands waving in front of you and a pair of big brown eyes worriedly looking at you. His lips were moving but there was no way to understand what was being said in this state. And then he was gone from your vision as you choked on a breath caught in your throat. You were about to make a run for the door just to get your bearings back when the room went silent and suddenly things started to slowly become clear again. When you turn your body in your seat toward the back, Eddie stands there with a shocked expression painted on his face, mouth dropped open.

“I—I didn’t—I’m—I—“ For probably the first time ever Eddie Munson is speechless. No quirky comments, no stupid jokes, just stuttering. Your breathing, while a lot better now, is still heavy as you recover from the sudden panic. “I didn’t know—I wouldn’t have—“ Before he can continue rambling you save him the energy.

“Just—leave it.” You demand, putting a hand up to signal him to stop. A warning to never mention it again. He owed you that much.

Then he goes on to do something you’d never expect. He makes his way to the table you’ve sat yourself at and pulls out a chair, sitting across from you. “Are you okay?” He asks, eyes wide and concerned, hands clasped together on top of the table as he fidgets with his clunky rings. What the fuck did he care? He’d jump at any chance to see you upset, why was right now any different?

All you can do is look at him in distress, displaying how you felt on your face and in your body language. “Oka—does it look like I’m okay?!” You respond, throwing your arms up before they fall back into your lap. Your outburst quickly dwindles, a shyer demeanor taking over as you both linger in the quiet, in the aftermath of what he believes may have been an anxiety attack. “I’m—I'm fine.” You finally decide, standing and acting as if nothing just happened, taking your place behind the counter. Eddie looks dumbfounded, unsure of any of his next moves so as to keep the peace for once in his fucking life. He’d experienced lots of trauma before but never had to come face to face with the kind of terror that took over your face, never experienced being on the other end of the turmoil. While he’s sure he’s gone through what you just had except with other triggers, there was not one idea in his head about how to approach the situation, how he would dare to even console you if that’s all you really needed. In a sense, he’s a tad grateful that you seemed to snap out of it on your own but that also makes him feel like the most terrible person on planet earth. What kind of man was he if not some duplicate of his dad like everyone says and like he feels he’s doomed to be? He had been in your shoes before, experienced the true fear you held in your body and no one was there for him. So when he was there fully capable of providing some kind of comfort, he did nothing and suddenly he was his dad. In his mind he was his dad, doing nothing, helping no one but himself.

Suddenly he felt like he was 12 years old again, sinking in on himself but before he could be pulled any deeper he shot up and rapidly blinked his eyes. And you were there perfectly normal, trying to sneakily set aside a sandwich for yourself but it didn’t go unnoticed, it’s not like he cared though. Had he become this big of a fuck up without realizing it? He was no better than the man that abandoned him at 12, he genuinely believed he was on the same path as the man that single handedly tore his son’s life apart, who raised him in a crack house until things got too complicated and left only to be arrested 48 hours later. Eddie had to stop thinking, he was pulling himself down again, an anchor might as well be tied to his ankle.

“I—I need a break.” He exhales, not listening if you had any protests which you didn’t, you just tuned him out as the bell on the door jingled and he stopped outside for a cigarette. Who smokes cigarettes anymore? You wonder. Well you answer your own question when you remember the hick town you live in, many people still smoked cigarettes out here but most of them were older. It was now around 8:45PM, almost time to go home to try and knock out in the chill stale air of your room. The bell above the door rings again and you glance up but don’t find Eddie and instead meet the vibrant blue eyes of Jason Carver. While not a close friend, you’d known each other throughout high school and had a few mutual friends and even found yourselves in some of the same study groups during finals.

“Hey!” He greets you like an old friend, a smile on his face, his bright white teeth glimmering in the light.

“Jason! I thought you were away for college in Boston.” You say, remembering that he was able to escape this small town and move onto bigger things. Of course he was, his family had everything lined up for him. He stuck to his plan and it seemed to be going well for him. Something you wish you could say for yourself but you never even had a plan if you’re honest.

“Yeah, I’m just in town for the week. I flew in earlier today. My grandmas sick so you know…” He doesn’t finish the sentence and doesn’t have to for you to understand.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You sympathize with him.

“No, it’s okay. This has happened a few times, it just seems like this might be it.” He tells you with a sad nod of his head. “Anyway, is that Eddie Munson outside?” He asks, changing the subject. You almost roll your eyes at his name but quickly remember how many fights the two had been in previously, usually Eddie walking away with no more than a black eye or a busted lip and Jason always looking worse. You don’t want to encourage another here tonight so you just nod, shyly avoiding Jason’s gaze. “Hey, is that freak bothering you while you work? Is he harassing you?” He starts to sound like he’s getting worked up, the opposite of your intention. Jason was always super forward especially when he was agitated which is why you always gravitated away from him. He’d always put on a sweet front but then come out with pure anger the moment he heard something he didn’t like.

“No!” You blurt out, unsure of why you’re even protecting Eddie in any way. Maybe it’s the fact that while you do hate Eddie with every nerve ending in your body, Jason only hates him for being everything he’s not. For not being popular, not engaging in sports, not going to church. None of those are why you hated Eddie but Jason had this bottled up rage toward him and you had the smallest inkling that he was envious in some weird way of the metalhead. “No, he’s not bothering me. He just works here and he’s on break. He doesn’t even talk to me.” You try to talk him down. Jason looks at you with suspicion, not fully believing you. Why you were even explaining yourself to him was beyond you.

Reluctantly, he drops it and continues on with the small talk which you find yourself growing bored of. Jason was turning out to be someone that reminded you of your parents, fairly conservative and tightly wound up. In high school he was a bit more laid back but it seems that whatever college he goes to has morphed him into another stereotypical white guy. The conversation couldn’t end soon enough for you as he started getting into a story about his frat house. You tried to hide your distaste but the air just felt sour. Not once did he even ask what you’d been up to, immediately going off about himself. As if he could read your mind, the bell above the door is heard and Eddie slowly walks back in, his face twisted in a scowl.

Jason looks toward him at the sound of the bell, freezing to stare him down as if it would intimidate him. Did he forget the several times Eddie handed his ass to him? If this was going to happen again right now, it was guaranteed that with Eddie being a man now, he’d have no problem taking him down. Jason was a man now too and while he had muscle from what you could see peeking out from under the sleeve of his polo, Eddie had grit and there was no way to go against that.

“Munson.” Jason greets with a nod of his head, a fake smile on his face. Eddie offers no greeting in return, only a glare as he makes his way back behind the counter.

“Anyway, it was great catching up with you.” Jason directs his attention back to you. “We should hang out while I’m in town. Here’s my number.” He says cockily, using a nearby pen to scribble on one of the shop’s business cards, placing it in your hand.

“Oh, okay. Yeah, um. Okay.” You respond with uncertainty. The number would be tossed aside the moment he stepped out the door but you appeased him the best you could while he stood in front of you. As he backs up toward the door, he shoots you a wink. While he thinks butterflies are fluttering within you right now, you’re actually internally cringing. And with that, he was gone, finally. You piece together that he hadn’t even purchased a coffee. The more you think about it, he may as well have pissed on you in an attempt to assert dominance over Eddie. Men were stupid creatures.

Eddie huffs out a laugh as he doodles on his hand, nothing left to do besides leave and lock up. You pay him no mind while you begin to quickly count the drawer so you’d be able to leave on time. “Fuckin’ tool.” Eddie mumbles to himself.

While you agree, you don’t want to give him any satisfaction so you continue counting the money. Finding that everything is accounted for, you lock up the drawer and grab your bag from the back while Eddie silently does the same. You meet at the door in some unspoken agreement, him holding the door as you step out into the chill air, turning to shut the door and lock it while he puts his motorcycle helmet on and walks over, straddling his bike. As you shove the keys back into your bag and start your journey home, he clears his throat. “Watch out for Carver. He’s not all sparkles and sunshine.” He says revving his bike. Who was he to tell you what to do? Though you had no interest in Jason whatsoever, you weren’t going to let Eddie tell you what to do, he was the last person on earth you would listen to.

“Oh, I’m sorry? I could say the same about you. You don’t get to tell me who to watch out for.” You step closer toward the bike, a hand on your hip while the nagging cold pinches at your skin. If your jaw was tightened it was both out of anger and due to the cold.

“Listen, Socks–”

“Don’t call me that.” You snap.

“I’m serious, Carver–” His voice is muffled under the helmet.

“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve trying to tell me what I can and can’t do, Munson.” You’re trying to get in his face somewhat but it's hard and a little humiliating when you can only see a reflection of yourself in his visor.

“When something happens you can’t say I didn’t warn you.” He points a finger at you sternly.

“Oh! My hero!” You say with sarcasm laced in the words. “I don’t need some drop out lecturing me about what I do or who I associate with in my free time.” The insult shouldn’t affect him, he’s been called every name in the book. But it does, for some reason it does.

“Do whatever the hell you want.” You can’t see his face under the helmet but if you could you knew he’d be clenching his teeth and flexing his jaw by the way he said it. In seconds he speeds away, bike screeching annoyingly down the street.

It had been a long day. A long week even. The only silver lining was that tomorrow was your Friday and after that you’d have at least one day to not think about work and Eddie Munson’s stupid attitude. The shop was closed on Sundays and though it wasn’t very enticing to think about sitting in your room catching up on homework, it was far better than having to argue with the equivalent of a stubborn six year old in a man’s body.

Eddie on the other hand was feeling things he’d never experienced before. There was this persistent worry in the back of his mind that he didn’t know what to do with. His emotions had been gathered up and thrown into the wind so suddenly and he was struggling to grasp every single one so he could tuck it away again. And you only angered him beyond comprehension, even if he deserved every venomous word thrown his way, he couldn’t deny that you provoked him in ways no other human has. The way you had no issue with telling him off but let Jason talk over you made his blood boil. It was none of his business, genuinely. That’s what he told himself but deep down he knew it was his business the second Jason flashed that fake smile at him that said everything.

~end~

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Masterlist

tags - @mmunson86 @haylaansmi @batkin028 @obscureenigmatic

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson series

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sleepysnk · 11 months

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a/n: welcome back! i’m back with another update :). we are entering the final couple chapters and it makes me feel sad </3. I hope you guys enjoy this! thank you again for your patience.

pairings: obito uchiha x fem!reader

warnings: modern au, college au, cursing, some mentions of anxiety, mentions of cheating, mentions of past relationships, angst, fighting (not physical).

The Beach: Chapter Thirty-One

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“Konan..” you said. “Someone’s here..”

Konan’s eyebrows knitted at your words. She didn’t like the tone of your voice. You sounded worried. She wondered if it was possible that Obito was here. He knew where the two of you resided, so it wouldn’t be much of a shock if he was standing right outside the door.

She came beside you with concern written all over her features. She honestly prepared herself for the absolute worst because she knew there were two horrible possibilities. She didn’t want anyone harassing you. If she needed to, Konan would call the cops or campus police to deal with the situation. She didn’t want anymore of these assholes coming around trying to mess with you. You already had enough bullshit to deal with, and she was tired of seeing you hurt because of them. She prayed that it was someone you both knew and not who she thought it was.

Though, judging by the expression on your face, it didn’t seem good.

You weren’t sure what to do. You didn’t know how he got your address or how he was aware of where you lived. What the fuck were you going to do now? There was no way you could face him without either breaking down, or screaming at him in a fit of rage. Either option would lead to some serious shit going down, and you didn’t know how you could handle it. Should you step out there? Wait until he leaves? God, you had to make a decision and fast or else things were going to come to a boiling point and you’d be forced to make a decision.

Konan stared at you with an intense expression. She was serious. It almost gave you chills from the way she was looking at you. In all honesty, her facial expression could probably scare kids into never coming back to your apartment complex. “Who is it..?” she questioned, trying to keep her voice low so whoever was on the other side couldn’t hear her speaking to you.

Your eyes shifted from the doorknob to where your best friend was standing. Her honey eyes were fixated on where you were right next to her. Your heart rate spiked the second you made eye contact with her. “It’s.. Itachi..” you then looked down at the floor, trying to avoid her gaze. You could practically feel the atmosphere shift the second you had said his name. She was most definitely not happy hearing that name.

Konan’s anger was visible on her face. She reached for the doorknob and almost twisted it open the second you replied. She was pissed off now. Why the fuck was he here? He didn’t deserve to speak, nor engage with you. Itachi had put you through hell and back your freshman year, and she wasn’t about to let him walk in and try to sweet talk you. He had some fucking nerve stepping into your complex and expecting a calm discussion with you. He was a piece of shit. He needed to hear it.

You placed your hand around her wrist, preventing her from opening the door in front of her. Konan’s gaze was removed from the knob and was placed on your face. She could see the way your face had screamed for her to not go out there. “(Y/N)..” she shook her head. “He needs to leave.. please don’t tell me you’re going to go out there and speak with him! He was a piece of shit to you and I don’t want him to get in your head!”

A shaky sigh left your lips at her words. She was completely right. Itachi didn’t deserve to speak with you after all that he had done. He was a horrible guy for what he did to you, and it was no surprise that Konan was being defensive. After all, she was the only other person who wanted to help you after the breakup. She had a point, but you wanted to tell him off. This was your business and dragging Konan into it might not end very well. Itachi would listen if it was you, but her? Probably not.

You looked at Konan with a stern face. As much as you would appreciate her help, you knew that this would only end if you went out there and faced what you had been running from for the past year. “Konan, I’ll go out there. This needs to end and I want him to leave, so let me deal with this. I promise if I need you, I’ll call for you.” you tried sounding reassuring, but your voice was somewhat wavering.

She honestly couldn’t believe what you were saying. Konan wanted to disagree and protest, but she also knew she was right. It was your issue and Itachi wasn’t someone Konan was involved with. She was still worried for you though, because seeing what he did to you, he knew that this could open a really bad can of worms. “Are you sure? (Y/N).. he-“

“I’m sure. Just leave it to me.” you interrupted, removing your hand off of her wrist.

Her mouth opened to speak once again, but then she closed it. She decided to just let you be. You were mature and old enough to make your own decisions, especially when it came to Itachi. You also knew how to stand up for yourself. She had faith in you. She knew you wouldn’t crack and crumble to him. “Alright.. just say the word and I’ll crack him over the head.” she then backed away from the front door so you could walk out of it.

You nodded your head, then put your hand on the doorknob. You took a deep breath, trying to collect every single thought that was swirling around your brain. You swallowed down everything inside you, then proceeded to pull on the front door to open it.

The door opening caught Itachi’s attention. He thought for a brief second that you weren’t home or that he possibly had the wrong address, but he was shocked to see that you had appeared in the doorway. You seemed tired. Your hair was somewhat tossed around and you had these bags underneath your eyes. He had seen that sight before. He saw it plenty of times when you’d spend the night at his place, or when you’d first wake up and he’d call you for your morning FaceTimes. You were still so beautiful.

You shut the door quickly behind you, avoiding eye contact with your ex-boyfriend. You could feel his eyes boring into your head. It was quite awkward, but his presence annoyed the absolute shit out of you. “Why are you here? How the fuck did you find my place?” you got straight to the point, because who the fuck cared about beating around the bush with pointless conversation.

Itachi expected nothing less from you. However, it was the exact opposite of what he had seen last night. You always had such a bold and defensive personality towards people who wronged you, and he shouldn’t have been shocked to see it come out at him. “I just wanted to talk with you..” he placed his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “And.. I got your address from an old friend.”

You scoffed at his reply. You’d also make sure to find that old friend and remind them to never hand over your address to your damn ex. There was honestly nothing to talk about anymore with him. You didn’t want to hear anything either. “I’m gonna stop you right there.” you sounded serious this time. “I don’t care what you have to say. There is nothing to talk about anymore, and I don’t want to see your face here. Do me a favor, and get the fuck away from me or else I’ll call the cops.”

His expression shifted to a more surprised one now. He honestly thought you’d say the exact opposite, but judging by your angry face, he knew you weren’t going to listen. “Are you-“

“I’m sure. Don’t ever come back here or I will get the police involved, we good on that?” you questioned, raising your eyebrows.

Itachi kissed his teeth at your reply. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to say much, and he didn’t want to have to deal with the police being involved with this. He decided to just let it go. He’d probably try some other time, but for now, he was going to leave you be. You were still angry with him and he knew that was probably never going to change. “Alright, fine!” he placed his hands in the air defensively, then turned down the hall to head towards the exit of your apartment complex.

You watched tensely as he disappeared around the corner of the hallway. All of those high nerves you had began to fall when you realized he was now gone.

You were honestly in complete shock with everything that had just gone down. You were for sure going to speak with your friends to remind them that Itachi shouldn’t be given any information on your whereabouts from here on out. He had to be some kind of fool to believe you would just give in and speak with him. You prayed this was the last time you’d ever interact with him. Maybe this was your sign to get your shit together and quit moping around your damn room all day. Itachi seeing you vulnerable only gave him the chance to infect your mind. You didn’t need that at all.

A sigh of relief left your mouth. You then decided to go back into your apartment and inform Konan of what just occurred. You wouldn’t be shocked if she was behind the door with her ear pressed against it.

“(Y/N)?”

A voice calling for you just a couple feet away made you freeze in your spot. All of the blood inside your body had gone cold, and your heart began to race rapidly. You knew that voice. It was easily recognizable from a mile away. You thought that this would be the last of your issues, but it seemed like a new one piled up whenever you felt somewhat fine. However, you were not expecting to see him coming to visit you. Not now.

Your head lifted from the floor and you turned so you could see Obito. He seemed somewhat serious and almost hesitant to talk with you. That familiar anger that you had just a few minutes prior had resurfaced once again. He had some fucking nerve coming here, just like Itachi. After everything you heard from Rin, you never imagined you’d see the same man who dropped you just a few weeks ago standing before you. It was honestly hard to read him. You wondered what he wanted or what his motives were. In all honesty, you didn’t think he deserved a calm discussion either.

There was a small moment of silence between the two of you. Obito hadn’t seen you since the party, and he was honestly worried. After hearing about what your ex had done, there was guilt that plagued his heart. He understood everything and he wished he wasn’t such an idiot. Although you seemed physically the same, he could tell you weren’t the same person inside.

Gathering all of the courage inside you, you turned your body to face the man. He looked the same as ever. If you got closer, you could smell the aroma of his cologne he often wore whenever the two of you hung out. It was honestly hard to believe that you hadn’t spoken, nor been this close to him in weeks. “What do you want, Obito?” you looked up at him with irritated eyes. A look he hadn’t expected you to give him, ever.

He honestly didn’t know what to respond with. What was he truly here for?

Obito had felt disgusted with what he had done and said about you. He knew no amount of apologies would ever make you forgive him, but he wanted you to know that he was sorry. “I just wanted to talk with you.. (Y/N).” he replied. “I know things are shit right now, but-“

“But, what? After all that you’ve said about me.. you want me to just talk with you like it’s nothing?!” your voice grew louder this time, which made Obito’s eyes grow wide.

He knew you were right, but he still wanted to try and speak with you. He wanted to explain his side and let you know that he regretted all that he had said. He honestly wished he could reverse time and tell himself to take a look at the bigger picture. Obito was such a fucking idiot. “I know you’re upset, but you have got to hear me out! There’s so much shit I want to tell you.” he tried walking closer to you, but you immediately stepped backwards.

A scoff came from your lips. You honestly couldn’t believe what he was trying to say to you. What was there to explain? What was there for you to hear? He was almost a bigger idiot than Itachi was. No matter what, Obito hurt your feelings and what he said was unforgivable. They always say people come back when they realize what they lost in another person, and Obito was a prime example of that. “What is there to explain, Obito? How I’m a slut? A whore? Let me think about what else you said..” you spat. “I don’t want to hear a single goddamn thing from you, so get out or else I will call the cops.”

“But, (Y/N)-“

“I mean it, Obito! I don’t want to hear shit from you, so go!” you interrupted, pointing at the other end of the hallway.

He was about to continue talking, but he knew that he wasn’t going to get through to you no matter how much he protested. Obito took a step back and turned around to walk away from you. He honestly didn’t think things were going to end this way. All he wanted to do was just explain the misunderstanding, but he knew it was too late for that. You honestly deserve someone better than him. He just wished he didn’t fuck up. He knew he cared about you, but he was too angry to ever stop and think for a moment.

It seemed like you were done with him for good.

#the beach #naruto fanfiction #naruto #naruto x reader #naruto x you #naruto x y/n #obito uchiha #obito uchiha x reader #obito uchiha x y/n #obito #obito x reader #obito x y/n #obito x you #anime fanfic #anime fan fiction

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demon-blood-youths · 15 days

Text

An Officer's Corruption - Part Fifthteen

Hello everyone! This is Demon-mun, again and this is part Fifthteen of An Officer's Corruption started by @the-silver-peahen-residence

||Previous Chapters 1-7||((Click here))

((Previous chapters 8-13)) (Click here))

Part Fourteen

||OVA Chapters||

OVA part Six

OVA part Seven

---- Warnings ---

Violence

Gore

---- Summary ----

While the meeting took place with Warden Kinie Ger, something is happening in the caferteria. A bloody riot. What happened? And how does one of the officers, Jinx Violet deal with this?

-----

---- Leaving Warden's Office into the Hallways ----

After that quick meeting with Warden Kinie Ger, Officers Vanguard and Vin Shia think back on the meeting and things. For one, Ryomen Sukuna helped out to rebuild the prison, get new guards and help pay for overtime and more shifts.

The problem was....the requests that Ryomen Sukuna mentioned.

"For the first one..Officer Vin-Shia, the prisoner Rex oxford mills will be going on patrol soon meaning he will have his bail paid for by him and will be let go within two months. The same goes for his teammates in two months. I already sent a message to the wardens that has the maidens..."

The mere thought that Rex would be released on bail, including his team. Then again, Rex did said that he sees Sukuna. By seeing, Kali had to refer that Sukuna must be a client of his.

It was due to another request of his sister being let out as well.

Go freaking figure. Shit, Rex under her watch her ass. Goddamnit. No doubt, Rex could have the news at any time. And what's more...Kali looks over to Ink who doesn't seem faze by this but should!

The Six Claws would be released as well.

That there. Doesn't make any sense at all. Why would Sukuna want the Six Claws to be released of all things? Ink told her about the Six Claws in the file and she doubts that a handful of them would work for Sukuna unless

Not only that...

"As for the next request, two more will be released a bit faster. One that Officer knight is watching over even if he is already on being released for good behavior. Another is the one that Officer Narong is watching over. So they will be release as he already paid for their bail."

And by those names. Kali can tell that Ink has Officer Knight and Officer Narong under her unit. "Hey Ink. Do you know the two people that your officers, Knight and Narong were looking after?" Kali asked. Ink blinks and nods, "Yep! Rust told me that his charge will get out for good behavior. He was put there because of he was bounty hunting for a criminal. Rust is getting his paperwork filled out for him to be released." Said Ink.

"And the other one?" Kali asked.

"One time, Sai called me for an updated file. Apparently, this guy used to be completely human until he got spliced with bat DNA and after that. Nothing else. Maybe he is still busy with that case on top of other cases." She said. "Ugh...I was about to ask Rust on that. But maybe I can call him."

Kali sighs. Still....it's weird that Warden Kinie Ger hasn't mentioned Itadori Yuji yet. Maybe...she wants to keep that quiet like they were told to regarding their certain prisoners.

As the two walk in the hallway, they see Jinx coming by.

"Hey Jinx!" Ink greets her.

"Hi Ink! Going to go to Warden Ger's Office! Can you watch over Itadori Yuji for me?" Jinx said.

There it is. Kali thought.

"Sure thing!" Ink said with a nod as the two passed Jinx. "They're having lunch, right?" Ink asked. Kali nods. "Yeah, we have to give food to their cells but for today...we managed to patch up the cafeteria so it's in good use now."

------ Cafeteria ----

As the prison was being repaired, there were parts to the prison that remained undamaged and the prisoners are kept. The Cafeteria is one of them. Everything is going well as everyone is eating and minding their business until...

"Hey Asshole!" Iku kicks the table where Itadori is sitting at with his friends at the lunch room. Kisho looks upset while Megumi is annoyed, wondering who this is idiot.

"Yeah...what's up?" Itadori doesn't look fazed by this white-haired young man and his two friends, almost looking bored.

"Mind moving? We decide that table is ours!" Iku smirks. Itadori nods. Then Iku's friend, Syuuta comes up, "You heard what he said! Move! Do you know who we are?!" Syuuta laughed.

"Got no idea..."

"Demons of Oda! We own the Flushing District." Iku said. Itadori nods. Demons of Oda. He heard of them from Sukuna. In Japan, they own Nagoya. They came to New York to expand their business to the yazuka living here. Some of them got caught, while some ran away. These two are the Demons. It's a matter of time that they would be extradited, it's just the when.

"Used to own Flushing District." Yuji Itadori corrects them. If he remembers correctly, he fought Hayato, the Wind Glade in one of his fighting matches. The guy turned into a demon weasel and is good at jumping around until Yuji got a solid hit on him and defeats him in several punches. That guy got humbled after that.

Iku growls and takes his tray and dumps the food onto the floor. "Bastard! Don't mess with us! If you know that, then you better obey us! We will be taking over this prison."

----- Six Claws' Table ----

Six Claws heard the commotion and were curious to turn their heads to see what was going on. Already, their faces mixed between curious, glee, annoyed, and shaking heads.

"Midoriya, are we going to do something?" Rin asked, jerking a thumb at this. Midoriya sips his green tea watching this. "Nothing. Itadori can take care of it. No need for us to get involved."

"How strong is that guy anyway?" Denji asked.

"From what I heard, pretty strong," Atsushi said. He hopes this doesn't turn into an incident.

"If he's related to him, then that guy has no chance," Ren said. Bakugo chews on his nicotine gum with a smirk. "Still....who wouldn't want to watch a show?"

Because the Six Claws knew that there is no need to butt in if Itadori is involved.

------

"Okay. So what's that have to do with me?" Itadori looked completely disinterested despite having his tray taken away and food being dumped onto the floor. Iku smirks, "Because I've seen you before of course! You're the Wild Tiger of the West?"

Why is he not surprised?

Kisho and Megumi are now glaring daggers at Iku. They looked ready to fight but Itadori held his hand up, letting them know that he will take care of his. "And? So what?"

"So what?!" Iku glared.

"Yeah so what? To be honest, I'm not the king of the place or whatever you think I am " Itadori said. He would point out that Midroiya is probably in charge but it seems like none of the Six Claws would butt in it seems. Itadori scowls at the thought that Midoriya wants to see it play out. "You got the wrong person."

"Oh! I have the wrong person?!" Iku sneers as a vein begins to pop. "Well...whatever." He shrugs. "I mean you're the strongest guy around here so I gotta show others that I'm the strongest around here just for show."

"Isn't Hayato the strongest?"

"HA! That fucking moron isn't shit!" Iku laughed while Syuuta and few members of Iku's squadron joined in the laughter too. "So are we're going to take it outside or what?"

"Seriously dude? And do what you get if you win?" Itadori said. Not like that guy is going to win since he looks easy to beat already. However...the next words that Iku said would be something that he wouldn't expected.

"Oh! Well for one, you gotta serve me! Two, you're going to help to get female guards for us to screw." Iku said.

Kisho and Megumi widen their eyes slightly as they see Itadori's expression change slowly. His eyes now.

"That's right! Like that pretty girl with the red dark hair!" Syuuta laughed along with his minions. "She looks pretty cute! I bet she tastes nice and swe-"

BANG!

Iku widens his eyes as a powerful breeze passes by. It sounded like. gunshot which fills the room with silence and awe. Syuuta was sent flying across the lunchroom and crashes on top of the Six Claws' table, breaking it down underneath its body.

Some of their food was spilled and the remains of it hit their clothes.

---- Itadori's Table ----

Iku backed up as he saw one of his fellow demons sent flying as Itadori is now standing up, letting out a breath. His eyes became steel as ice. With a silent rage in his eyes, he looks towards Iku now.

Now the white-haired demon is trembling and begins to speak.

"You-" Then Iku's mouth is grabbed and Yuji slams him down on the table. Iku widen his eyes now in fear as Itadori glares down at him, holding his jaw in place. Iku's eyes shudder as he is now looking up to a dangerous tiger ready to tear him apart.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Itadori said darkly and soon, there is cracking sound. "You think you can come in and start shit when you're just a piece of trash?" The prisoners watching are now getting up from their seats and backing up. Wait..what's he doing?

Iku's legs begin to move frantically and tries to pry Itadori's hand off his mouth but it's futile. His strength made his struggle helpless like a newborn calf.

Crack. Crack.

"S-stop...my jaw...yo-u breaking..." Iku's eyes begin to tear up, feeling the pain now.

"Since you Demons of Oda like to talk so much about themselves. Let's see how good are you with your healing." Then Itadori's fingers went into Iku's mouth and began to rip something out.

"AAHH!" Iku screamed in pain. Two of his teeth were taken out and then Itadori shoved his fingers into his mouth. Iku is crying and groaning.

"Oh shit..." One of the prisoners was scared now. They never see Itadori do that before. Something is happening and blood begins to spill from his mouth and he takes something out of him. Iku rolls across the table and falls from it. He covers his mouth as blood begins to bleed profusely from his mouth.

Itadori begins something to throw at the wall. The object in question hits the wall and falls onto the floor. Oliver, the normal prisoner around here takes a look and pales, "Oh..god...that's his tongue!" He said.

A piece of tongue. The prisoners were scared except for six people.

"HEY!" Denji yelled as he got yellow slop on his hair. "YOU PINK FUCKER! YOU RUINED MY MAC N' CHEESE!" He said as Syuuta is top of Six Claws' lunches.

Right away, Syuuta groans as he got up. "Y-you fucking bastard.." He growls but then he got decked in the face by Bakugo whose now laughing.

Finally. Time to let loose! "HEY RIOT!" Bakugo told the prisoners. And right away. the prisoners throw a riot. Right away, Megumi and Kisho beat up Syuuta and Iku's underlings while Bakugo is now fighting anyone along with Rin and Denji yelling. Meanwhile, Iku yells in anger, trying to throw a punch at Itadori but Itadori quickly clocks him in jaw, sending him down to the ground.

"U...ba.."

"What was that? I can't hear you. Heal yourself." He said. Iku begins to back up from Itadori with fear in his eyes while holding his mouth. He glares and then a skeletal hand begins to manifest to bring down upon Itadori Yuji. But Itadori knocks away the skeletal hand with ease and drags Iku's leg before slamming him against the floor, the table and the floor again. Iku was battered so hard that there were blood stains on the tables. Iku won't bother anyone for a week.

"Err..." Iku looks up and sees the tiger staring down at him.

"Next time...put your head down and never look at me again." He said.

---

Right away, Ink and Kali arrived to see some chaos.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Kali said and sees the completely chaos. "What the hell happened?!" Kali said before jumping down. Ink goes to jump down as well.

Kali managed to knock out some of the prisoners while Ink tries to stop the fighting. At the middle of it, Ink got decked in the face which got Denji saw this and roars. "YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!" He shouted before he goes over and kicks the prisoners away from Ink.

"How dare you mess with Officer Vanguard, you bastards!" He yelled/.

--- Warden's Office ----

As Officer Violet and Warden Ger talked. The radio went off about a riot in the cafeteria.

"Ugh! What now!?" Warden Ger which prompt Jinx to get over. "Don't worry! I will help to get the situation under control!" Jinx smiles and leaves.

---- Cafeteria ----

As Jinx arrived, the only ones standing is the Six Claws, Officers Vanguard and Kali, a few prisoners under a table, taking shelter and there's Itadori Yuji and his friends. Jinx gasped as she sees the person at his feet. A battered prisoner and she sees the blood on his knuckles. What the?!

What just happened?!

--- Time passes ---

Ink gives her report to Warden Ger of what happened due to a witness account of a prisoner. Oliver told her what happened. It all started with one of the prisoners messing with Itador named Iku from the Demons of Oda. Words exchanged and the first punch thrown was Itadori at Syuuta, sending him into the table where the Six Claws sat.

Jinx can't believe this so Itadori will be sent to solitary confinement for the time being until tomorrow, when he will be sent to his regular cell. She saw Iku and his prisoners. It was brutal. It made her wonder what made Itadori do such brutality.

She wants to know what exactly just happened

Jinx can't believe that Itadori had to start a riot even though there's a chance that it wasn't his fault to begin with. One of the newer prisoners named Iku picked the wrong guy to mess with up. She heard of cases where new fish try to pick the guy in the room to insert domiance so they won't be messed with.

Of course, how could she knew that Iku and Syuuta pick Itadori and his gang out of all people. At least, it isn't the Six Claws.

----- Itadori's Holding Cell ----

Itadori is in the cell by himself and he can't help that Jinx is right outside.

"Hey. Do you mind if you get Kisho and Megumi over here? I don't want them to get in trouble?"

He hears a groan from his kitten.

"Kisho and Megumi are in trouble too. So you won't see them tonight till tomorrow." Jinx tells him not before asking, "Also! What happened?"

Itadori grumbles, "Don't want to talk about it."

Jinx sighs. This is going to be a long night. She knows that Kisho and Megumi were kept for the night together.

#ic #rp #thesilverpeahenresidence #{ mature content }#older Ink #Officer;Au #YoungAdult;AU #An Officer's Corruption; drabble series #drabble;#drabbletime #drabble #vaninkthedragon #older ocs #an officer's corruption #An Officer's Corruption; Part 15

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whiteerrors · 9 months

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HOLLOW HEARTED

Rk900 x Heisenberg

A Resident Evil/Detroit Become Human Short Story

_______

Have you ever wondered what it was like to be torn open from the inside? Cain did at one point. His fingers twisting. Struggling to fight against the man who resembled a living EMP. His vision scrambled and shifted as he stared up at the old man before him. The greying hair that hung down at shoulder length. The trench coat and glasses he wore. Coated in scars. His grip on him was something he was incapable of breaking free of. Body no longer of his own free will as his broken body would bend and shift to the man's will pike a puppet.

"Your something else aren't you?" He asked in a low tone. Cain on his knees bowing low to him. Being an unfeeling machine one would expect no fear. But he feared this man. He had no control over himself. His blue blood coating the floor from a fractured arm the other had forcibly ripped from its socket. Wire and tubing exposed as Cain huffed. Not that he could breath. But hyperventilation was an involuntary deviant glitch. One that was not being driven back by his firewall made specifically for keeping deviancy out of his head.

"Y-y-you don't have to do thi-this-" voice glitchy. Shaken almost. And he wished that firewall did kick in to save his ass. But the Emp was causing so many malfunctions in his system even his Amanda program was gone. And his silver eyes so small it showed his fear. Led flashing red like crazy with no signs of stopping.

"Please. Spare me the god damn sob story. Didn't think I'd ever be saying that to a talking junkheap." He chortled lightly as his fingers wrapped around Cain's chin to force eye contact. Eyes peering into him like a man studying the impossible." I know you must be looking for a name to this monster. Am I right?" He asked with an amused grin. Teeth were surprisingly well kept among them." I'll humor you. Just this once. Karl Heisenberg."

Cain remained silent. As Heisenberg rose a brow as if to wait for the next answer. For the robot to say something until it did." C-c-ccccaaaaiiiinnnn."

"Cain?" Heisenberg hummed in question as he snapped his finger." From that biblical mumbo jumbo from the bible? Cain and Able?" He couldn't see straight but Cain could tell he was on the verge of laughter. Only to stop. His expression rather serious between the two as he raised his hand. Cain's body rising like a metallic puppet once more. His eyes wide as his sensors indicated damage to his legs. The wsound of bending plastic and splattering noises could be heard between them. Till he was dropped to the floor like an animal. A pool of blue blood seeping onto the factory's floor. One arm and one leg gone.

"Its odd not hearing screaming. The technology the bastards out there are making these days is fucking impressive. You look human. Hell even sound human. But I know you don't feel any of this. How could you, Cain? Your not alive after all." He kneeled over him. Such curiosity filling his gaze. He wondered what made this machine tick. No doubt a heart but not like that of a humans. His fingers lacing the chest of Cain. Its skin like color shifting to plastic undercoat as he raised his hand over it.

"Nnnnoooooo d-don't! Chris!" He yelled. He couldn't cry even if he wanted. But the fear was what made Heisenberg stop.

"Did you say Chris? That bolder punching asshat?" He said too much. He knew it.

But also...that statement kept him alive for the moment as he pulled Cain closer by his collar." You work for him?"

He didn't answer as he looked into his sensors and saw that minor damage had been added to the eternal pump.

"Y-yeeesssss." He choked on his words." Ddddoooont.."

"Dont worry tin can. I ain't gonna dissect you just yet. I got a bone to pick with that asshole anyway. Do me a favor. Sleep this off why don't you?" A surge of electricity surged through him. Shutting cain down almost instantly.

Leaving him in a everlasting darkness.

#i am programmed to assist; resident evil verse #short story #karl heisenberg #crossover #re / dbh

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infernal-fire · 3 years

Text

suburban dream

summary: how do you wake up from a nightmare? is it a nightmare if you’ve been asleep the whole time?

major warnings: noncon/dubcon smut, stalking, mention of pregnancy, some cum play (check the prompts for indications of other warnings)

a/n: this is for @iraot’s 1.1k writing challenge. BIG congrats on 1.1k (i cannot explain how glad i am that others get to read your amazing work) and another BIG thank you for hosting this challenge.

Here are the results of my wheel spins:

Kink wheel: daddy kink, somnophilia, breeding kink Character wheel: Jake Jensen Situation wheel: Neighbours AU

You let out a breath of relief as you dropped the last brown box into the corner of the room. How you managed to own this much stuff, you’d never know. Glanced around the living room, it was difficult to decide where to begin. After much contemplation, you huffed and picked up the pizza catalogue, deciding to call it a day.

It was unbearable to leave the house in the mess that it was. On the other hand, your right hip wailed in agony every time you bent down. Lacking the much-needed support of friends or family, you had no option but to suck it up and unpack… but that can wait till tomorrow.

Fishing out just the necessities for the night, you climbed up the stairs and headed into the master bedroom. Massive house for one person, you noted. You did insist that an apartment would suffice but Tony was a stickler for rules.

All Stark employees have to be residents of a Stark-Jensen neighbourhood.

Before getting the job, you weren’t even aware that “Stark-Jensen” neighbourhoods were a thing; it was a term coined by the tech company itself, referring to neighbourhoods that are protected by Stark-Jensen technology. The crime rate in these neighbourhoods are always startlingly low, the odd criminal or two being from inside the community itself. All things considered, how could you say no to free housing?

Sure, the security measures assured that you never had to worry, but it also made you wonder why they were there in the first place. This place was as secure as the Stark Tower; why? You tried not to ask too many questions, afraid of getting on Tony’s bad side. Besides, it isn’t characteristic of him to give you a straight answer anyway.

Life is good, your most harrowing concern at the moment being that your new place had no curtains. It had been a long time since things were calm and you were just recognizing that your days had been free of storms for some time now. Counting your blessings for the second time that night, you stepped into the shower and reminded yourself of all the things to be grateful for.

To say you were in a good mood was an understatement. You finished your night routine right as the pizza was delivered and excitedly skipped down. No one told you how fun living alone was but they didn’t need to - you quickly found that independence is a glorious necessity in everyone’s life.

Jake stood bewildered at your person throwing the door open. He gripped the pizza box tight to ensure he didn’t drop it and continued to look at you like you had grown a third head. He never was very good with his words, but your beauty truly inhibited his ability to think.

“Hi?” you asked.

“Hey, I-I’m your neighbour, Jake. Saw that you were moving in and I came to ask if you need any help.”

“Oh,” you contemplated, looking past him. “Where’s the pizza person?”

“I paid for it. Housewarming gift?” he said like a question and handed it over.

You received the warm box and waited for him to say something as he fiddled with his hands. His smile looks so familiar but you couldn’t place your finger on it.

“So…Do you need help?” He looked up right at the end. You grinned at how shy he was.

“I would really appreciate the help tomorrow,” you replied casually.

“Oh, so… I’ll come by tomorrow morning?” He looked hopeful, as if you were the one handing him the olive branch. You took a once-over of his build, sure that he would come handy when your hip gives up again and nodded in response.

He nodded back slowly and turned around to leave, but seeing him at your doorstep felt eerily similar to a puppy left out in the rain.

“I don’t think I can finish this pizza alone,” you called out. He turned around, a glint of happiness apparent in the shine of his eyes.

“Do you have time to help me with this right now?” It was your turn to look hopeful and you really hoped this cutie took the bait.

He did.

You couldn’t ignore the nagging at the back of your head that you had seen him somewhere. You also couldn’t dismiss the fact that dinner together was just a little awkward. The conversation started off with small talk, and it didn’t take a genius to tell that neither of you enjoyed it. Luckily, it shifted to talks about the neighbourhood and your old job. After that, the words flowed easily, the two of you bonding like you had known each other forever. Although it was smooth sailing, you couldn’t help but wonder how he knows so much about the neighbourhood security measures. When he mentioned that he had lived there for about 6 years, you chalked it up to a simple accumulation of knowledge he must’ve acquired from being around for so long.

“So everyone who lives around here works for Stark-Jensen, right?” you questioned, trailing your finger on the rim of your second wine glass for the night.

“Yeah, for the most part. Though it’s hard to tell who works for who.”

You chuckled in agreement.

“What is it with that? I mean, I work for Stark, and my colleagues, too… but exclusively for Stark. Jensen does exist right?”

“Yeah,” he snickered, “He does. Stark makes the tech and Jensen does the coding.”

“So they’re a two-man team, but Tony’s the face of the company? Seems sort of unfair,” you muttered, quirking your brow a little.

Jake smiled at your comment, glanced at his hands and looked back up at you.

“Maybe he wants it to be that way.” He nudged his glasses up and took a little sip of his wine while peering at you.

You cocked your head to the side and considered the information. Your head was hazy and you needed to stop drinking; alcohol and cute guys are not a good mix.

“Wait.” You squinted at him.

“Does that mean you’re a Stark-Jensen employee?”

He let out a chortle and took your glass from you.

“Hey, hey I want that back!” you whined, not even caring that you’re embarrassing yourself.

“I think that’s enough for today.” He gently helped you up, waiting for you to move.

“I can usually handle my liquor,” you promised, clinging onto his broad form for support.

He started moving you up to your lone mattress in the corner of your room, softly laying you down.

“Jake,” you caught his arm. “You didn’t answer the question. Do you work for Stark-Jensen?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

You pouted at his answer, still gripping his wrist like you owned him. He tenderly pried your fingers off him and placed them on your belly.

“See you tomorrow,” he mumbled as he left your room. You drifted asleep easily, blissfully unaware of how you’d never be able to live down the humiliation of your drunken stupor.

The next day, you hoped Jake wouldn’t show up. It would save you from the burning heat that crept up your neck every time you recalled the night before.

Unfortunately, Jake had found it way too amusing an opportunity to tease you, showing up at your doorstep at 10 AM on the dot.

The day went on without a hitch, the conversation picking up easily from where you left off. Jake found it endearing when you groaned at the mention of your state, only after three glasses of wine. The question of his employment never crossed your mind again, both of you having way too much fun unpacking. You felt ten times better knowing that your neighbour was a loveable, single, hunky nerd; it made the stress of settling in that much better.

Of course, like all good things, the weekend came to an end. Monday morning, you eagerly prepped yourself for a new week at the office. Being Tony’s right hand took five rounds of interviews as well as background checks into every living relative you had. After the turbulent hiring process, you found that the job was not any easier. Luckily, the move had you feeling more thankful about being in sync with all the Stark tech; with FRIDAY managing your house and personal appointments, it was easier to keep track of Tony’s day.

You stepped out of the house and shielded your eyes from the beautiful day. Just then, your lovely new friend stepped onto his porch wearing casual attire.

“Have fun at work!” he called after you.

“Thanks! Are you going to work?”

“Yes, I am.” You took in his outfit one more time, chuckling as you wondered what job would pay enough to live here while dressed in sweats.

“Well, in case I don’t see ya’... Good afternoon, good evening and good night!” you exclaim loudly.

Jake giggled like a schoolboy and waved goodbye before ducking into his car.

Tony’s 10 AM meeting has been pushed to 11 AM, Miss L/N.

“No, no, that won’t do! He has another meeting at 12 PM, the timing will clash. FRIDAY, who was he supposed to meet at 10 AM?”

Speaking to the AI felt more like talking to yourself, but with time, you assured yourself that it would look as cool as Stark when handling your things.

He’s meeting Mr Jensen, the co-founder of Stark-Jensen. I believe you have not met him yet.

“Yeah, I haven’t. Could you call him for me, FRIDAY?”

Sorry Miss L/N, Mr Jensen’s phone is switched off. He has already notified Tony of the change in plans.

“What an asshole,” you grumbled.

On the contrary, I think you would like Mr Jensen, Miss L/N.

“You can just call me Y/N, FRIDAY. Oh, and, send out a notification to all of today’s meeting hosts and tell them to push it by one hour. If they complain, send them my number to take up any problems they have.”

It’ll be done by the time you reach your office.

“Thank you,” you smiled and pulled into your parking spot, right beside Tony’s.

It was hard to imagine what would’ve happened today if Tony didn’t give you access to FRIDAY. Calling each meeting host and personally asking them to push their meetings seemed like a tedious and mind-bending task. And frankly, you didn’t ever look forward to talking to Karen’s. But now, you would never have to know; FRIDAY was an absolute godsend.

You stepped onto the other side of security clearance just as the clock struck 9 AM. Strutting up to your office, you made a mental checklist of everything you need to do during the day. Usually, Tony didn’t require you to sit in for his meetings. He has a different set of assistants for note-taking purposes.

Too consumed by your thoughts, you didn’t notice the large picture of Jake and Tony sitting side by side on the wall beside the elevators. You also didn’t notice Jake’s smirk as he passed by you with ease. He would’ve stopped to say hi, but he knew that you didn’t realize who he was yet. Now he just had to figure out a way to get you to show up to his and Tony’s meeting and give you the heart attack of a lifetime.

Beep, beep.

The Stark-watch buzzed on your wrist, letting you know that Tony was calling for you. You had barely even stepped into the elevator and he was already whining like a baby.

You shook your head and stepped into the doorframe of his lab.

“Come here!” his voice called from the far end of a lab. Your suspicions of him being under the work table were confirmed when he wheeled out on his back and handed you a wrench.

“Do me a favour. Tighten this for me?”

He handed you the arm of an Iron Man suit, what you assumed was his latest mark. He already lived at the lab as it was, you wondered how he ever had time for Pepper.

“Come on, put your arm into it L/N! You know what, you’re distracted, give it here.”

“Did you call me here to tighten your screws?” You shifted your weight onto one leg and crossed your arms. It was sassy of you, but Tony’s assistant needs to have some backbone, famously said by Rhodey.

“Well, you know me, screws always loose.” He knocked on his head and chuckled at his own joke. You sighed and turned to walk out.

“I need you to sit in for my 11 o’clock. And cancel everything else today.”

You gasped and turned again, marching to where he was lying down.

“Tony Stark, you have no regard for anyone’s time! I already pushed everything back by one hour because of your buddy Jensen and now you’re asking me to cancel everything?”

“I know, and I agree. I wish I could go to the mind-numbing meetings with corporate clowns, but I want to show you and Jensen something cool.”

He stopped fiddling with his toy just long enough to glance at you.

You sighed and called for FRIDAY, groaning for the umpteenth time since that morning. Why were you acting like this was the first time he’s done this? It was probably your lack of energy from moving. You couldn’t wait to get home and maybe call Jake over for dinner. Now that you considered this possibility, time seemed to pass slower, but at least there was something worthwhile to look forward to.

When 10:55 rolled around, you were sitting in Tony’s lab, patiently waiting as Tony set up his latest invention for demonstration.

“Where’s your buddy?” you asked, checking your watch for the time again.

“On his way,” he replied without turning away from his work.

He paused and took a step back to admire his work before facing you.

“You haven’t met Jake, have you?”

“Jake?”

Right on cue, Jake walked through the doors of the labs and you whipped around to find your grinning friend.

“Howdy neighbour,” Jake sneered.

“Oh, right. You live beside each other,” Tony muttered as he gathered some more things from his desk.

You shamelessly inhaled the pinewood and vanilla-infused scent of Jake as he sat down beside you. To have him so close to you was a dangerous thing, your cunt unknowingly clenching every time he moved his biceps.

“Stop making heart-eyes at him.”

You threw whatever was in your hand at Tony’s head, and it happened to be a pen. It narrowly missed as he ducked and doubled over in laughter at your embarrassment. The bastard took sick pleasure in it so he often made it a point to humiliate you, but it usually wasn’t in front of the co-CEO of the world’s largest tech company.

The rest of your time in that lab went on without any heart attacks - as far as anyone knew, the slick between your thighs doesn’t account for a ‘heart attack’, per se. You shouldn’t even be thinking about Jake like that. He was technically your boss too.

Tony dismissed you at lunch and told you to take the rest of the day off, much to your delight. You slid into your car and dropped your head onto the steering wheel.

You had barely moved into the neighbourhood and you’re already finding ways to be fired.

~Time skip~

You sighed and laid back in the over-the-top maternity chair Jake got you for feeding. Your baby gurgled as curled his little fingers into his palm before knocking on your breast once. With a light chuckle, you cooed as the little bundle began falling asleep.

This was the only place in the house that had a sliver of sunlight gracing the inside of the house.

You could have outdoor privileges if you didn’t pull that little stunt.

Could you really blame yourself for trying to leave? How were you to know that it’s impossible to leave a Stark-Jensen neighbourhood?

Because it says “Stark-Jensen” in the name, you dumbass.

Fair enough.

You lost count of how many times you sigh on the daily, instead opting to count the number of times you’re able to hold off a mental breakdown. Today, you got the rare privilege of privacy, with Jake being gone to another one of Stark’s presentation.

You reminisced about the last time you sat in Tony’s lab and watched him explain his latest creation. Little did you know that the first time you sat with Jake in there would also be the last time you ever sat in there.

You gently placed the Jim in the cradle. Again, one of the many over-the-top investments made by Jake to ensure the baby got state-of-the-art care. The way Jensen had made you sit beside him as he put the contraption together almost had you lurching. But you didn’t want to wake the baby. The horridness of the memories cannot outweigh your will to keep Jimmy from crying.

“Look at it!”, Jake excitedly spun the box to show you. It must’ve cost an unreasonable amount of money - not that he couldn’t spare to spend the coin, but the purchase confirmed your worst suspicions; he was serious about this all.

Your eyes, puffy from the days of crying, were barely open. Yet you still nodded, figuring that if you put up with his enthusiasm now, he’ll let you go to sleep without raping you like he did every night.

Anyway, you were wrong.

When did everything go so wrong?; How?

You picked up your phone. Your eyes flickered between the only two contacts saved on it. Jake made sure you couldn’t do anything except call him or Tony.

You missed your ex-boss (who was always more of a friend to you). But, it was obvious that calling him wasn’t worth it and would rarely yield any fruitful conversation. Tony always spoke as if he were walking on glass around you and your words were always monitored and censored by Jake. It didn’t take long to figure that one out.

“I don’t know what happened, Tony, she’s just unhinged,” Jake explained over the phone. In the background, you struggled against the bonds that held you to his bedframe. You sobbed harder into your gag and tried to scream ‘help’. All that came out was a shriek.

“You hear her? She’s completely unfit to come into work… What happened? I don’t know man… She’s breaking down under all the stress. A few days of rest might do the trick. No, no, you don’t have to come down. I’ll take care of it.”

He ended the call and you went limp, pausing your hysteria. He smiled at you as if he hadn’t kidnapped you. As if he hadn’t just made Tony believe that you were off your rockers. As if he hadn’t just fucked you five times over the span of 48 hours.

He had planned every step of your entrapment to the letter and it was all going according to his plan.

You put your phone facedown on the dining table and walked back upstairs to your room. His room. Your room, too.

Never, you internally screamed.

Well, it’s too late to debate it.

You stood at the foot of your bed and traced the footboard. He took you countless amount of times on this bed and every instance held some clue that he was working up to what was happening now. You could see that now - but what was the point now?

You giggled as Jake pushed you onto his bed. Who knew this golden retriever could be so rough?

“Shhshshshhh” you slurred and Jake laughed in response.

“Tony’s not here, baby,” he replied, climbing on top of you.

“We’re not gonna get fired?”

“He can’t fire me, sweetheart.”

“Oh… yeah.” You frowned, remembering that your risqué relationship was only risky for you.

In your drunken haze, you didn’t realize Jake was rubbing his bulbous tip against your folds, gathering slick.

“Condom?”

“Don’t have,” Jake lied.

“Oh,” you hesitated.

“It’ll feel so good, baby.” He nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck and sunk in before you had the chance to protest.

“Jakeeee,” you whined. Writhing under his grasp, you shook your head side-to-side as he vigorously fucked into you.

He abruptly stopped and pulled out. “What have I said about saying my name?”

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you sheepishly say.

“That’s right, slut. You’re gonna make me a daddy, right?” He pushed back in.

“Yeah, you are. Gonna make me a daddy, so call me daddy.”

The implication of his words flew right over your head in your drunken haze and blank mind. Any ounce of sense that you had left was being fucked out by his thick length.

“Gonna blow my load. Fill you tight cunt, not gonna last long.”

His words were broken with loud moans. He couldn’t think straight with your warm, wet pussy inviting him in over and over.

As you shook from an overwhelming orgasm, your pussy involuntarily clenched, causing Jake to lose any last bit of restraint he was holding onto. He pushed in as far as he could go as you flailed around. He pinned your arms down and pressed his mouth into yours, delivering a hot and heavy kiss that had you panting.

He pulled out, but the string of cum that followed made you blanch. You never were one for cum play. Still, you didn’t protest when Jake pushed everything back in with two fingers.

“Gotta’ make sure you’re full baby.”

You shake your head now, but again, what’s the point? It’s all done and dusted. Though, you should give yourself some credit. Even if you had realized earlier, it wouldn’t have made a difference. He would’ve realized that you knew before you could’ve even thought about escaping.

As you drifted asleep, you adjusted the volume of the baby monitor one last time and slumped into the fluffy pillows.

How do you wake up from dreams? Was it by pinching yourself? You couldn’t wake up from the nightmare that was your reality when you pinched yourself. You doubted that would work right now. You couldn’t recall how to open your eyes. Instead, you whimpered in your sleep, reliving the moment Jake finally revealed his ulterior motive

“You did what?” Jake was seething, but the only indication of it was his clenching jaw and red face. His tone was the perfect embodiment of the calm before a storm.

“I know you aren’t happy… but Jake, you- you’re always talking about babies and a family. It was so overwhelming and I… I-I…” You were shivering now, unable to withstand the heat of his glare. You had never been on the receiving end of his anger. Hell, you had never even seen him angry.

“I didn’t have an abortion, Jake, for god’s sake stop looking at me like a killed a baby! Plan B is not a crime. I’m only even bringing this up because I started on birth control anyway. Plan B every time we have sex is just not practical or feasible.”

At this point, you could’ve been speaking to a wall. Jake still hadn’t said anything and you were beginning to wonder if he had even been listening.

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice,” he whispered, at last.

“What?”

“I watch you do everything, I can’t believe I didn’t know about the Plan B.”

“What… What are you saying?”

“I said,” Jake stood up, “I’ve basically been watching you 24/7. And I don’t know how I didn’t notice this.”

“What do you mean watching me?” Tears in your waterline were threatening to blur your vision but you blinked furiously in an attempt to keep looking Jake in the eyes.

“You think FRIDAY works for you?”

Jake leisurely cracked each knuckle and took a step towards you. You took one back.

“Oh, now, don’t be like that.”

You woke from your nightmare that was the boiling pot and jumped straight into the fire. Jake was already moving in and out of your channel, moaning about how he missed you too much.

You tried to adjust yourself but he caught your arms and pulled out just long enough to flip you onto your stomach.

When he pushed back in, the hopelessness of your life manifested as tears; it happens every once in a while.

Today, you had a new record: you were able to hold off a total of 7 breakdowns.

But, of course, that was right before he pinched you awake every time.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Fully Completely 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, mutual irritation.

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: Here’s part two and things are getting aggressive fast.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 2: Either it'll move me

💀💀💀

Usually your work kept you busy and if you were busy, you were content. Not that day. Not since that man ruined your lunch. You were so worked up that when you got back to the garage, you didn’t even finish your sandwich. You barely got anything done as what you did had to be redone in your distraction.

The night was little better as you planned to get the car done so the next time Loki bothered you, you could tell him to fuck off. If his headlight did come in before he left town, you’d send it down to Carl’s to have the work done. You would take the cost from what Bucky gave you to cover your time.

You were on your second coffee by the time you headed down to the garage, your apartment conveniently above as your existence was relegated to that single lot in Birch. At the bottom step you paused as you sipped from the travel mug and listened to the unexpected noise from behind the black door.

You locked all the doors at night, even that between the entryway and the garage that you kept propped open during the day. You stepped closer and tested the handle and bent to examine the lock. You glanced over at the painted front door and found that both had been picked.

Your fingers tightened on the mug. The last person to break into your garage, well, they weren’t around to bother you anymore after Jerome found out. You swung the door open and hauled the hot coffee across the garage towards the only sign of movement.

Loki sidestepped the splash, a few drops along his dark jacket, and continued to tighten and untighten the wrench. He looked at you nonchalantly and his mouth slanted. He shook his head as he let the tool hang perilously from his hand.

“Is this how you treat all your customers? This ungainly assault,” he peered down at the overturned cup beside his car.

“What the fuck are you doing in my garage?” you huffed as you marched over to him and reached for the wrench.

He gripped it tighter as you tried to snatch it from him and held you close as he sneered down at you.

“Two days,” he said “correct?”

“Tomorrow by my count,” you rebuked and pulled harder on the wrench, “not that it gives you any right to break into my garage and touch my stuff.” He let you yank the metal free of your grasp and you pointed it at his chin, “so leave or this time I won’t miss.”

He chuckled, barely bothered by the tool pointed at him as his green eyes sparkled, “your count is incorrect. I might be early but your work is due this evening so I will wait.”

“Not here,” you waved the wrench at him and grabbed his arm, “so get out and come back later then.”

His hand covered yours and he pried your fingers from him. He twisted your hand back and you gasped and swung the wrench with your other. You hit his shoulder as he raised his arm in defense and grunted at the sharp impact. He let you go and you swung again. He dodged and shoved you away from him.

“Do not presume to put your hands on me,” he warned, “you know who my brother is, that I associate with your cute local chapter--”

“I’m not one of them and I don’t report to them,” you snarled, “so get out now or you won’t be associating with anyone.”

“Mouthy little bitch,” he slithered, “you touch me again, or even attempt it--”

“I said get out,” you hit the hood of his car and left a dent, “It’ll be another day at least.”

His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. He fixed his jacket and sighed. He raised his chin and stiffly strode across the garage and through the black door. You followed feet behind him and made sure he continued outside. You cranked the lock behind him and listened to his footsteps crunch through the snow.

You might not report to Bucky and his goons but he was going to keep the rabble in line.

💀

It was just after noon but you knew Bucky would already be at The Asp. You ventured down the street in your heavy boots, your jacket flapping open in the wind as you were set on your destination and the conversation that awaited you. You nodded at the man who leaned a few feet from the door and sucked on a cigarette.

You entered and shook the snow off your lined denim jacket and kicked off your boots. You looked around at the mostly empty bar. You rarely went there as it was more trouble than you needed. The men were drunk and dirty and like many places in Birch, you just didn’t fit. You didn’t want to fit.

Bucky sat at his usual table, a woman you recognized beside him. She had been a year or two ahead of you in school and a couple behind Bucky himself. You knew she was his new girl but she never really looked happy about it. Knowing him, it didn’t surprise you. He always wanted more than he got.

You crossed to him and stood in front of the round table as his right-hand thug watched you curiously. You raised a brow at Steve and focused on the boss.

“We need to talk,” you said plainly.

“We do?” he asked genuinely confused, “I owe you something?”

“You do and you don’t. I’m not here about money,” you replied, “but it’s important.”

“Alright,” he pointed to the chair in front of you and gestured to his companions, planting a kiss on the woman’s lips before she stood, her lips slightly curled at the corner, and left you. He shifted in his chair as they went and nodded when he was ready, “sorry, if I knew you were on your way, I would’ve kept her in the back.”

You scoffed and shook your head. He was always obtusely arrogant. “I stopped fucking you, Buck, I don’t care who you’re with now.”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember,” he inhaled and placed his hand against the table, “so what is it?”

“This guy, Loki,” you began, “brought his car to me two nights ago.”

“Mhmm, I sent him down. I know I should come down myself but--”

“Please, you hate going down there,” you waved his words away, “it’s not about the car, it’s about him.”

“What about him?”

“He broke into my shop this morning. There was… well, I got a few licks in and for the sake of you I’ve held back but you need to keep him away from me. I’ll fix his car but I’m not dealing with him anymore. He’s a pompous asshole who thinks he can just do whatever he wants.” You stopped yourself, usually not one to go on at length, “he’s your… associate, as he would say it, so he can deal with you, not me.”

He considered you and pulled his hand back to scratch the stubble along his jaw. His blue eyes were intrigued if not surprised.

“He… coming onto you?” he asked.

“No,” you blinked at him dully, “no, he’s just annoying me. You promised me the shop would be my space. He picked my locks, Buck, so you let him know what’s what.”

“He’s new in town,” Bucky sighed, “but I’ll talk to him.”

“You better,” you stood, “because I don’t care about whatever business you got going on, the next time, I’m gonna pop his eye out with a--”

“Don’t be dramatic,” he snipped, “I’ll take care of him, alright?”

“You better,” you said as you backed away, “or you can find someone else to fix up your bikes.”

“Really? You know it won’t come to that,” he sat forward in irritation, “go, he won’t bother you.”

💀

The next day you looked over the front of the car. Aside from the cracked headlight, it was as good as new. You rolled up the garage door and took the keys from the hook. You drove the car out and steered it along the snowy street and parked just outside The Asp. You got out and headed inside to hand off the keys to Bucky with a promise that you would take care of the light when it came in as long as he kept Loki away.

You returned to the garage to close the door and checked the time. You were overdue for lunch and hadn’t been back to The Chipped Saucer since that eventful day. You were hungry and too lazy to climb up to your apartment and dig through your fridge.

You crossed the street and entered the diner as Kimmie looked up from the harlequin novel she hid behind as she stood by the till. She marked her page and closed it before she grabbed the carafe from the machine and crossed to your table. She poured you a mug and confirmed your usual order.

There were a few of the older residents enjoying pie and coffee at the other tables but the snow still kept many in their own houses. You might try the strawberry rhubarb before you went. You didn’t indulge in sweets often but it smelled good.

Kimmie brought your sandwich and as you finished the first triangle, you were disturbed by the last voice you wanted to hear. You didn’t look back as the door chimed behind the new patron and you continued chewing as you once more reviewed the newsletter.

To your chagrin but not unexpectedly, the figure appeared at your table side. You bit into the next portion of your club sandwich and ignored him.

“Hello, darling,” Loki sat across from you as he had days before, “I saw that you attended to my vehicle at last. Fine work, I must say. I do hope the headlight arrives soon.”

You said nothing and kept eating as you looked out the window and slid the newsletter aside with your other hand. You took the last gulp of your coffee and swallowed. You raised your cup and looked around, “‘scuse me,” you called out, “when you have a second.”

He laughed to himself and you felt his gaze on you. You pushed aside your uneaten crust and went about your meal as if he wasn’t there. When Kimmie refilled your coffee, he ordered a tea and a bowl of the daily soup.

You barely withheld your grimace as you watched Babs across the street by her bakery. She dusted snow off the open sign before she retreated back inside.

“I’m pleasantly surprised by the food here,” he mused as he stirred a plume of milk into his tea.

“Can’t you take a hint?” you snapped, “I don’t want you near me.”

“Believe me, at first, the feeling was mutual, darling,” he said.

“I told you not to call me that,” you frowned at him directly and he smirked.

“I like the way it makes your eyes go,” he taunted, “admittedly, that first meeting I would’ve liked nothing other than to never encounter you again but the more I poke and prod you, the more intrigued I am.”

“If you don’t stop--”

“You’ll go back to Barnes, hmm?” he intoned, “yes, he did speak with me but I might enlighten you on one fact. The man requires my business more than a mechanic, especially as there seems to be healthy competition in town.”

“You have your car, you’ll have the headlight done, and you can be on your way out of town,” you growled, “and you can be far away from me. Whatever stupid game you’re playing at, I’m not biting. I meant it when I said I won’t miss--”

“Darling, this is not an invitation,” his eyes strayed from your face for just a moment and he considered the buttons of your flannel shirt, “a man like me doesn’t ask, he expects.”

Your eyes rolled so hard it hurt. You pushed your plate away and pulled out your wallet. You left your tab on the table and stood. You shrugged into your jacket and glanced out the window at the white main street.

“Whatever you expect, it’s not going to happen,” you rebuffed, “but I told you what you can expect if you come around me again.”

You left as you had days before and stormed across the street without looking. You dodged out of the way of a slow rolling Ford as it honked and you waved them off. You stomped up to the front of your shop and realised too late you were being followed.

You spun around at the door to face Loki as he slid to a stop. He grabbed your arm and drew you back from the painted wood. You hit his chest and he barely flinched as he flicked your chin with his finger.

“Oh, darling, let’s not drag this out, I do love that temper--”

“Get off--” you pushed him and he nearly slipped and took you down with him as his leather soles held no traction on the frozen ground.

He threw you back and you hit the corner of the doorframe and gasped out as it forced the air from you.

“I promise you, it won’t last. I will damp out that flame and bask in the smoke,” he neared again and you kicked out. He fell to his knees as the force of it had you on your ass.

You crawled away from the wall as he tried to stand and you grabbed onto his leg and pulled him back down. He slid back to his kneeS and gripped the collar of your coat. You hooked your arm around his neck and he jabbed your stomach, not as hard as he could, but a warning.

You brought your other arm up as you struggled to get a foothold and you managed to push you both back. You fell in tandem into the snow, your arms locked as he forced his fingers under them to keep them from snaking tighter. He was strong and you knew you could only do so much. You had to keep him on the ground.

He elbowed your ribs and you released him sharply. You rolled away from him as you panted and scrambled on your hands and knees. The frigid snow seeped through your jeans and burned your palms. You heard him behind you and you turned as you climbed to your feet unsteadily.

He was half-keeled as he got his feet set and his dark hair hung over his forehead as he glared through the strands. He stood straight and pushed back the mess of tangles and you faced him, ready for another brawl.

“Oh, this will be fun, darling,” he brushed the powder from his suit and his cheek twitched, “You needn’t worry about Barnes, you should be more worried about me.”

He puffed out a breath and spun swiftly, nearly slipping again on the icy walk. He headed back down to the street and you saw the tension between his shoulders as he pulled his jacket straight. He hurried across the road and you turned back to the garage.

It was a brief retreat, a chance to plot, you knew that much. You only had to outlast him and if you were anything, it was stubborn.

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

Text

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Rating: T+ for blood, language, nudity, and horny

Warnings: Implied pain/blood kink

Summary: Local vampire tries to give her human soulmate a bath, but the human is feral and loving it. Then it gets a lil horny, to both of their frustration.

Previous Chapters: 1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring

2: Bloodbath, Baby!

“I take it you changed your mind about the clothes? Or am I supposed to use these towels like a makeshift toga?” You asked, glancing around the bathroom, eying the ornate tub with mild interest. This certainly wasn’t where you had expected Cassandra to take you, especially not when she had somewhat promised you garments to wear. There were no pants or shirts (or even dresses) in sight, just a rack of the softest looking towels you had ever seen. It was admittedly difficult for you to resist the urge to use one to wipe the blood off of your shoulder. However, you figured that it would be best to save that for after you were given a good behavior prize. After all, it was much more fun to be a bastard if your “victim” (not that Cassandra really counted as that) knew how polite you were capable of being, and you were, under normal circumstances, very polite. Most of the time. Maybe.

“What did I say about talking?” Cassandra snapped at you, glaring at you from her perch on the counter. She was sitting on the edge, waiting for something, occasionally eying the room’s entrance.

“You told me to shut up for ‘five minutes’. It’s been eight, at the very least! I’ve been holding back, just for you, babe,” you replied, smirking as you did. For a moment your soulmate seems to consider chucking a bar of soap at your head. Eventually she thinks better of it, opting to roll her eyes at you instead. “For the record, I did count, just to be sure. Wouldn’t have wanted to make any assumptions about the passage of time, considering how fast time seems to fly when I’m with a loved one.” Unfortunately, this does not get a rise out of Cassandra, who has shifted to face away from you. Not yet willing to give up your buffoonery (and assuming that you would not, in fact, be getting a good behavior prize anytime soon), you released a loud, exaggerated sigh, before switching tactics.

Standing up with the blanket still curled around yourself, you maneuver over to the tub, eagerly climbing inside. With how large it was, laying down was fairly easy, though you weren’t entirely flat. Wanting to be as comfortable as possible, you adjust yourself and the blanket until it covers you, while letting one end go behind your head like a pillow. It’s nowhere near as nice as you had hoped. On the plus side, however, is the attention it gets from Cassandra. Before long she’s standing adjacent to the tub, staring down with an expression of exasperation.

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

“Napping, obviously. Care to join me?” You answered, without hesitation. Then you gently pat the blanket, as if offering to let her sit on top of you. This only serves to make her angrier. Now she’s leaning over the basin, bracing one hand against it, her other hand reaching to grab your throat and pull you towards her. The two of you are so close that you can’t help but blush, and the feeling of her skin against yours is weirdly attractive. “I should have known you were the kinky type. Not that I mind,” you murmured, gaze wandering a little farther south than her lips. Before you know it she’s shoved you back down and let go of you. She shakes her hand a bit, like she’s just touched something gross, but you see the pink rising on her cheeks. As much as you want to tease her, the sound of approaching footsteps takes priority. Soon the door is opening, revealing a stressed servant, a pile of clothes in her arms. Suddenly you’re glad that Cassandra pushed you away, considering you don’t think she would have enjoyed having someone walk in on the two of you in that position.

“Lady Cassandra, I have what you requested. Would you like me to draw a bath for you? Or-” she pauses when she sees you, clearly unsure of what to make of your behavior. Hell, she almost drops what she’s carrying, and makes a soft ‘oh’ sound. Presumably dying inside, Cassandra quickly takes the bundle from her. Then she stands between the two of you, blocking line of sight, looking as tense as could be.

“Just get back to work, and don’t mention this to anyone,” she growled, gesturing towards the door. As soon as the maiden closes it behind her, Cassandra is turning back to you. “Get rid of that stupid fucking blanket or I’m forcing you to wear wet socks.” Understandably, you start giggling at her request, hardly able to believe that she had really just said those words out loud. “Would you prefer I cut up the soles of your feet? I’ll heal long before you do, asshole.” Now that makes you pause, trying to figure out whether or not her threat held up. Even though everyone had a basic understanding of how blood bonds worked (the less romantic, and more historic, way to refer to soulmates), the specifics were confusing for most people, including yourself. Would your aching wounds bother her? Or only the initial injury?... Somehow you had a feeling you’d figure out the answer within the next few days.

Until then, you decide to err on the side of caution, for once in your life. Still, you roll your eyes before you pull the blanket up and out of the tub. Again you spot a faint rosy tint on Cassandra’s face, and her gaze most definitely lingers on places other than your eyes. In the end you have to bite your lower lip to stop yourself from calling her out on it. Gotta get some clothes first, you think, then back to being a dick. Holding back only gets harder from there.

Wordlessly, Cassandra takes a seat by the front of the tub, where your feet are propped up on the edge. Giving you a judgemental look, she pushes them aside so she can reach the controls knobs easier. You give an exaggerated pout in response, only for her to ignore you completely, trying very hard to look anywhere but at you. It was in stark contrast to how she had looked at you a mere half an hour earlier. There were several interesting things to note about her behavior, and you found yourself almost excited to figure out the puzzle she presented. Did she care about you now? Simply because of your blood bond? Did she have a genuine soft spot for romance?... Those sorts of questions were all you could think about, even as Cassandra turned the handles, letting cold water splash into the tub.

“I’d say ‘fuck you’ but honestly, were I in your position I would likely do the same,” you said, shivering a little. Cassandra raises an eyebrow, staring at you like you were stupid, before turning the handle a bit more. Eventually you figure out what she meant by it. “What, you guys don’t have a quality water heater? This is Romania for fuck’s sake. I would have figured the water would be a hell of a lot hotter by now,” you added, only for her to splash some still very much cold water on your face. “Is this fun for you? Are you enjoying this? God, I hope you assholes have Legos somewhere in this maniac menagerie, so I can step on them while you sleep.”

“Do you always spit in the face of kindness?” Cassandra asked, moving towards the other end of the tub as she spoke. Once more you laugh, though this time it’s much more of a hollow sound, and your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “My sister wanted to kill you, but I pulled your pathetic corpse out of the basement, now I’m letting you use my bath, and you’re mocking me. This is why I don’t bother with this shit,” she growled, even as she wets a washcloth and starts dabbing at your wounds. On one hand you understand her frustration… but on the other you couldn’t get the image of her past victims out of your head.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d rather be clean than not,” you started to say, pausing to think for a moment. Then you reach out, putting your hand over Cassandra’s, making her freeze in place. It’s soft enough of a touch to surprise her. Which is why it’s so easy for you to snatch the towel from her hands. “You ‘don’t bother’ with this ‘shit’ because you’re a fucking sadist, who thinks all humans are beneath you, who acts like she has every right to bleed innocent people dry, who thinks she’s God’s gift to this goddamn hellhole we call Earth. Do you think this makes up for your sins? Do you-” her nails dig into your arm and she grits her teeth in pain- “think that I can forget listening to the screams of your victims? Whose graves is this castle built upon? Whose fucking bones am I standing on? Who died to keep you alive? How many other versions of me have you killed, in other timelines, in other lives, where the universe didn’t demand that we be together? I’ve seen your heart, girl, and it’s as raw as they come.”

There’s a brief second of intense, furious eye contact. Then a flash of movement, a rush of pain, tears filling the corner of your eyes. Blood pours from the new hole in your shoulder, but Cassandra is quick to lick it up. She’s groaning in between each run of her tongue across your skin, clearly feeling it every bit that you were, yet she shows no signs of stopping. If anything, her pain seems to spur her on harder. Even you can’t help but blush a little as you struggle beneath her grip. Why did vampires have to use their mouths? Why couldn’t they get blood transfusions, like the rest of society? This way, your pleasure mixes with your misery, leaving you confused, and the fact that you’re still naked is not at all helping.

“Oh fuck off, please,” you gasped, trying to push her off of you. To your surprise, she does as asked, pulling away after one last lick. When you turn to look at her, you see your blood covering her lips and dripping down her chin. “You’re a mess, Cassie. Hot water?” With that you return her favor from earlier, splashing some of the (finally above room temperature) water in her direction. Most of it misses her. A few drops, however, do manage to hit their mark. Then she’s wiping her face on her sleeve, scowling the whole time. There’s still plenty of blood on her face afterwards, but it’s nothing compared to what’s gathering on your shoulder. She eyes the wound, nostrils flaring briefly, a predator dying for one more bite. “If you bite me again, I swear to whoever that one lady y’all worship is, I will bite you. My teeth aren’t made for that shit, but I don’t care. We’ll both be miserable and that’s it, baby! That’s love! I’m threatening you with an unhealthy perception of affection, dipshit!”

This time you expect her to move away, or hit you, or do anything other than what she does. Calling your bluff, she moves around the ever-filling tub, pausing to turn the water off, before hiking the edges of her dress up and… oh. Oh. Somehow she’s in the tub with you now, legs on either side of your waist, presenting the side of her neck to you with a knowing smirk. But you are not known for your cleverness. Nor your ability to make good decisions, at that. Perhaps your blood loss was starting to affect your cognition. Whatever made you so feral, so beautifully unhinged, you embraced it with utter glee. Soon enough your teeth find themselves on Cassandra’s throat, digging in enough for you to feel your blood bond reacting. For a moment she stiffens in response. Then she relaxes, even takes in a rush of air that sounds oddly content, leaning into your touch. What the fuck? You think, almost shocked enough to let go. Almost.

“What’s the matter, pet? I thought you wanted me to know what it felt like on the other side of things?” Cassandra teased, voice quiet and low. Something about her tone sends a familiar, although unwanted, feeling to your core. Still, her words egg you on, and you find yourself biting harder, tugging at the skin a little. More tears gather in your eyes, but you fight through the pain as best as you can. You drag your teeth across her skin, wishing for sharper canines, before letting go to inspect your work. There’s a clear outline where your mouth had been, but not a single drop of blood. Frustrated, you go back in for seconds, choosing a different spot to target. Again you go through the motions, only for no crimson to stain your lips. This cycle repeats several more times, with you running your tongue along her neck in between bites, so focused that you don’t realize that she’s grinding against you until she stops.

“I need to file my teeth,” you mused, trying to forget about what you had just done. Now that it’s over, Cassandra seems to feel the same, and she quickly climbs back out of the tub. She’s refusing to meet your gaze, instead focusing on arranging the clothes the servant had brought earlier. By the time she’s facing you again her blush is almost entirely gone.

“Finish cleaning up, then bandage yourself and get dressed. I’ll have a maiden wait outside to bring you back to my room. Don’t even think about trying to run,” Cassandra said sternly. You’re too distracted by the thought of what happened to give her any snarky response. So she simply nods to herself, then leaves, slamming the door behind her. Though you had expected to be relieved by her absence, you find yourself groaning, holding your head in your hands. Why is she so attractive? This is probably illegal, you think, in at least several countries. Or it should be, at least. Now that she’s gone, there’s nothing to distract you from the price of her attention, with your shoulder and neck aching horribly. Cleaning up was going to hurt even worse. Still, you think, at least I’ll have some time to think of new insults. With that in mind, you begin to wash away the blood, thoughts entirely consumed by your newest ‘partner’.

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #unhinged maiden #well personally I prefer the term feral #absolutely feral #goddamn menace #blunt teeth sharp tongue #please enjoy #not beta read

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

house sitting & concupiscence

— In which Endeavor asks Shouto for a favor, and Shouto decides to take his payment by fucking you on his bed. —

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, 18+ smut, dom!shouto, masturbation, toys (spreader bar, bondage, vibrator, collar, leash, gag, & fuck machine), master kink, spanking, temperature play, marking, pain, choking, torture punishment, overstimulation, voyeurism, slapping, oral (giving), hair pulling (receiving), semi-brat taming, anal (receiving), breeding kink

word count: 18,631

a/n: i know its long, but,,, please read LMAO. this took me a full ass week to write. im exhausted, im buzzing because idk how this went LMAOOOO, let me know what you think! please carefully read the warning, I will not be addressing anything about anal in my askbox (unless youre roasting me, which is understandable because lmao)

message to join tag list :)

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“Why are we going to your dad’s house?”

Tonight was supposed to be your date night with Shouto, and given that for the past two months, the two of you had been busy every day and night adjusting to being working adults, the two of you had been excited to go out. Next week would make two years, but it seemed the two of you would only be able to celebrate it during the dead of night. So, with a kind smile and a gentle kiss, you convinced Shouto that the two of you could celebrate the week prior. After all, it didn’t matter that it wasn’t quite two years; you both loved each other plenty enough to overlook the actual date.

Like for any celebration, you found yourself sitting in front of your vanity mirror as you applied your makeup. Your hair was done up in the most elegant style you could muster on your own, and you wore a simple yet gorgeous little black dress. Your head tilted in the mirror as you looked at your reflection. Your legs were shapely and smooth from the increased physical work you were doing, and the heels you paired with the outfit hung from your fingers.

You thought you looked hot, to say the least. What you didn’t expect was for Shouto to step into your shared room with his nostrils flared and eyes cold. Your eyes widened as you turned toward him, but the anger in his face disappeared immediately as he took you in.

His eyebrow quirked; a natural smile pressed into his face as his hands shoved into the pocket of his slacks.

“Don’t you look beautiful,” Shouto comments as he strolls up next to you. The steps were so casual, it was as if the two of you were strangers flirting in a bar, and not lovers two years into a serious relationship. “Who got you this outfit?”

Biting your lip, you chuckled, your arms wrapping around his neck, and you relaxed as he locked his around your waist. Your fingers rose to brush his short hair, the undercut was new, but it was a look you very much enjoyed on him.

Rising up onto your toes, you smile, seeing the way he leans towards you until your ruby painted lips brush against his earlobe.

“Your brother,” you tease, laughing loudly as he moves away, mock disgust and jealousy on his face.

“My brother? I’ll teach you to accept such pretty things from people who aren’t me,” Shouto warns as his fingers slip under the hem of the dress, eliciting a shout from you. He doesn’t seem to be deterred as his fingers hike the skirt of the dress further up until your cheeks turn red, and your protests are nothing but stutters.

“T-The reservations, Shoucchan,” you manage to get out as his lips press against your jugular vein.

“What about them?” Shouto mumbles against your skin as he backs you towards the bed.

“They’re s-soon,” you gasp as his teeth skim your skin, and his hands massage slowly against your ass. “We can’t miss it.”

Two months of hardly seeing each other also meant two months of not having sex or any sort of physical contact, and your actions exposed your need quickly. Your heels dropped with a loud clang, and you let Shouto do as he pleased.

To your dismay, however, the clatter of your heels on the floor caused Shouto’s ministrations to cease. Your eyes blinked as you focused back on him, your chest hammering and lust scorching your skin as you tried to concentrate on your boyfriend.

“Shouto?”

His eyes were once more consumed with the irritation and annoyance that had plagued him before you two interacting. Groaning loudly, you did not miss the way his eyes rolled before he focused back onto you.

“…we have to cancel the reservation.”

So, there you sit in the car, still dressed up with Shouto to your right driving, his hands clenching so tight around the wheel that his knuckles are white.

You sigh and tug his arm towards you. The way he attempts to jerk his arm away doesn’t escape you, but you still clutch his arm and lace your fingers with his. You place a soft kiss to the back of his hand and smile when you see him relax. It’s a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

“Are you going to answer my question, or are you going to leave me in the dark?” You ask again, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb.

Shouto sighs and looks over at you. His face is still set with annoyance, but his eyes brighten when he looks at you, and his lips quirk into the smallest of smiles.

“You’re annoying,” he says, and you scoff in protest. He smiles broader and brings your hand to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss to it.

Shifting in the leather seat to face him a bit better, you stretch towards him, your eyes wide with curiosity. “Answer my question, brat!”

Shouto sits there for a bit, gathering his emotions before he sighs, annoyed once again. “He asked Fuyumi-nee to take care of his house for tonight.”

Your eyebrows scrunch. You know that Fuyumi has a vital interview tomorrow for her job, and knowing the hero’s life, she would have to stay there late into the night. “Doesn’t she have the—?”

“Yeah, so she said no,” Shouto sighs, his hand in yours tightening. “Natsuo also has a lot of exams, and he and Endeavor aren’t on good terms still, so… that’s why he couldn’t take it. So, Endeavor called me and pulled a ‘you owe me a favor’ card from our second year. Didn’t fucking care that I had plans.”

“Why does he need someone to take care of his house?” You ask, trying to keep Shouto from hyper-fixating onto Endeavors’ ignorance detail. “He lives there alone?”

“He’s paranoid about some low-class villains going to his door when no one is there since his address was exposed,” Shouto rolls his eyes as the two of you pull into the driveway of Endeavors Residence. “Some fucking number one hero he is.”

“And he wanted Fuyumi to watch the house?!” You gasp, your eyes widening. Shouto nods his head as he unbuckles his seatbelt, and he’s out of the door before you could finish asking your question. You sigh and unbuckle your belt, knowing how infuriated Shouto is.

Your brush your hair out of your face, and the car door opened. You looked up with a small grin as Shouto offered you a hand.

“If I’m being forced to spend our anniversary here, I’m going to do it correctly, as if everything was going according to plan.”

Giggling, you let Shouto help you out of the car, and you couldn’t help but bring your exasperated boyfriend in for a gentle kiss. The kiss lasts less than a few seconds, but as you pull away, the irritability on Shouto’s face is gone as he smiles.

“I love you,” he says, closing the car door behind you.

“I love you too.” You smile like a lovestruck idiot as he begins to lead you to the front door. “We should have brought our costumes; surprise a few lowlives with our signatures.”

“Are you suggesting we let them rob Endeavor?” Shouto asks as he unlocks the front door.

“I just might be!” You laugh as you step in and remove your shoes.

It was currently five in the evening, and thus your date night commenced.

After two hours, you found yourself curled up on Shouto’s lap. You busied yourself with shoving popcorn in his mouth as you two watched Avatar the Last Airbender. The two of you had been watching it together since Shouto finally confessed that he had no idea why he was always compared to Prince Zuko.

Months of watching a few episodes every occasional night when you two had time lead you two to the finale now.

“I see the comparison now,” Shouto admitted with a mouthful of popcorn, and you hushed him again.

“Zuko may die!” You cried as on the screen, Zuko faced off with Azula, “He can lose, and you finally getting the comparison to the hottest man in the world is not a good excuse to distract me!”

“We can use fire, a scar, and a horrible father,” Shouto continues talking despite your attempts to quiet him as fire and lightning roared on the screen. “I was never the bad guy, was I?”

“You were a complete prick in the beginning, like Zuko,” you point out as you still focus entirely onto the T.V., “I mean, you did threaten to kill someone when we were fifteen. Talk about edgy! Plus, you didn’t want friends until Deku destroyed half of his body for you!”

“You’re an asshole,” Shouto huffs as he pushes you off of him, and you groan as you watch as he stands up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You call after him as you sit up onto your knees, you faced him as he walked out with his cellphone raised for you to see that he was getting a call from Endeavor.

Your mouth drops, and you nod as Shouto walks outside to talk with his dad. You settle back down onto the couch and grab the remote, pausing the show and sinking into the sofa. Your fingers brush against your dress as you wait for Shouto to come back.

It felt like an eternity before Shouto returned; the front door slamming behind him, causing you to wince. Shouto stormed over, his eyes blazing with fury, and he clenched a case in his hand as he glared in your direction. It would have been unsettling had you not known whom his anger was directed at. He stops a few strides away from you, clearly not in the mood to finish up the Avatar series.

“What happened, baby?” You ask, standing up. A soft scoff escapes his lips as he shakes his head.

“He thought I was here alone,” Shouto explains, his head low. “He makes me come take care of his house, knowing that I had plans tonight, then he expected me to be here alone?!”

Your eyes widen as a chill runs down your spine. Endeavor was not a people person, that was a given, and there was no saying whether or not he liked you being Shouto’s girlfriend, but for him to not like the idea of being here was a bit off-putting.

“Do you need me to leave?” you find yourself asking as you walked over to Shouto with short strides. You knew that their relationship, while it had vastly improved since three years ago, was still rocky. You wanted Shouto to be as comfortable around his dad as much as possible, even if it meant you stepping away when needed. “I can get—”

“No,” Shouto snaps, his nostrils flaring, a furious fire flashing in his eyes, and his lips curling into a wry smile. “You’re not leaving.”

“If Endeavor doesn’t want me—”

“Fuck what Endeavor wants,” Shouto growls as he lets you pull him into a soft embrace, but he’s tense and doesn’t melt into your touch like he usually does. “I want you, y/n, and he ruined our night. He doesn’t have the damn right to tell me what I can or can’t do when I’m happy.”

You nervously licked your lips as you stroked his back gently in hopes of derailing his palpable anger. There was just no use in having Shouto getting worked up about something that Endeavor wasn’t going to be able to change in the long run anyway.

“It’s okay,” you whisper as you pull away, your eyes trying to shine brightly as you press a gentle kiss to his mouth. “I won’t leave!”

There’s a harsh stream of air that escapes his nose, and he’s stiff against you, his lips unmoving, but he returned the kiss nonetheless.

“This is our night,” you whisper against his mouth as your lips press against his jawline and pepper slow kisses down his jaw. He seems to have an internal battle of remaining angry and caving to your touch. “You have a room here, it’s just us two, let’s have some fun! Come on, forget about Endeavor.”

As a hero, there were moments where you could feel impending danger or something on the horizon. Be it a sixth sense, or just fantastic gut feeling, but the moment those words left your mouth, they hit you in the gut. Pulling away, your eyes focus on Shouto, whose eyes are shut tight, and you watch as his jaw muscle flares before his eyes open.

Todoroki Shouto was no longer his younger self. While still prone to acting solely on his emotions, he was in control. The last time you had seen the pure rage in Shouto’s eyes was long before the two of you had been together, and something crawled down your spine as you attempted to speak, to understand what he was thinking about, and to stop whatever he was planning.

But then he let out a dark chuckle.

And you were too slow.

His mouth slams against yours, and your body goes back with the collision, but he doesn’t let you free. His kiss is hot, drowning, intoxicating, and full of burning energy that you didn’t realize he had in him. His free hand presses into your lower back, keeping you pressed against him as his mouth tries to get you to break. Your hands press against his shoulders in an attempt to slow him down, but it doesn’t seem to have the effect you were hoping for.

His hand leaves the bottom of your back to tangle into your hair, your resounding groan of both pain and pleasure resonates through you, and it clouds your judgment. Your hands — against your better sense — wrap around the back of his neck, drawing him in closer. His hot tongue swiped at your bottom lip immediately.

Not wanting to give in to his insistence, you purse your lips against his harsh kiss. He didn’t seem to agree with you. The hand that held the black case smacked against your ass, and you gasped at the stinging pain as the case rattled.

His tongue invades your mouth in an intense affair, and your mind spins at the way his tongue drops in temperature before warming up. It sends a pleasant and dull throb through your body, and you moan into his mouth. Were you really going to let Shouto fuck you in a house that wasn’t yours? The two of you had fucked in places that weren’t your house, but it was never a family home, much less his dad’s house, but his tongue curls to tease the roof of your mouth, and it sends an uncontrollable shudder down your spine.

Your cheeks glow with embarrassment, and your eyes are wide in shock. “Shouto’s really going for it,” you thought. His lips are scorching, but it’s his eyes that make your thighs tremble. His eyes are nearly glowing with lust and desire, there’s still that animosity in his eyes and a sense of arrogance that made you want nothing more than to retaliate.

“I hope you’re ready for what’s happening tonight,” Shouto smirks, and you pant trying to control your racing heart.

“You know I am,” you lie confidently, despite the tremor in your voice and the weakness in your knees.

His hand moves to your cheeks, and you feel a growing heat from his hand as he places yet another ardent kiss onto your slowly bruising lips. Shouto’s lips are magnetic against yours, continuously pulling you in, sucking you in until you were gasping for more. Then he would move to nibble on your senseless lips in your overwhelmed state.

Low and soft pants with intermixed gasps begin to leave your mouth as you try to calm down, this kiss was so unlike his typical embrace, but you fucking loved this dominant persona that he dons. Your arms wrap around his neck, drawing him nearer, eliminating the space between you so that nothing could dare to come between, but your hips have a mind of their own, and you feel yourself grinding your crotch against his.

A low and nearly angry hiss leaves his lips, and your breath hitches as his mouth leaves yours. In a fashion similar to yours earlier that day, his mouth presses multiple kisses against your jawline, but they’re sturdy, intense, and full of teeth. Your mouth drops as you let out a curled moan at the feeling of his teeth sinking into the skin below your jaw.

It wasn’t a typical love bite; this was marking. You could feel his intent to break your skin with the mark, and the heat between your legs flared as he took a step forward, and with that, you made a step back.

You’ve only been to this house a few times, and most of the time, you only come here for Fuyumi’s sake of keeping the family close. Awkward yet lively dinner conversations had led to Shouto showing you his childhood room that hadn’t been touched since he was fifteen. Sure, the two of you were nineteen, but a bedroom that hadn’t been touched in four years was something sinisterly haunting.

Shouto’s bedroom was the closest to the master bedroom — Endeavors room. That you knew because the grandest and most intricately beautiful door in this house belonged to Endeavors’ room.

Imagine the horror that sank in your when your lust hazed vision watched as Shouto’s childhood room passed you and your back hit a door.

“Shouto! This is—”

“I know,” Shouto growled against your burning neck. He had left enough bites on your neck to hurt, but the throbbing pain only added to the throbbing heat of your core. “You deserve to be fucked on a good bed, not my childhood one.”

“But Endeavor!” Pathetically you try to get him to move off you, but Shouto opens the door, and the two of you stumble in. “We can’t—!”

“Don’t worry,” he chuckles as he pulls away from your marked neck, “he won’t know.”

Your eyes widened as he lets you go, and you hesitated in moving towards the enormous bed before you. This was too much, you couldn’t let Shouto fuck you on his dad’s bed! That would be so disrespectful! Blatant and honest disrespect! Even if Shouto was in a “fuck his dad” mood, you couldn’t let this happen.

Turning to face your boyfriend, the release of him on your body, allowing you to think logically, you were ready to stay firm in your decision.

“What are you doing?” Shouto asks as he walks to the bed, placing the black box onto the bed with a quirked eyebrow. “Get on the bed.”

“N-No,” you wheeze out. Wow, go confident you! “We can’t fuck on Endeavors bed! T-That’s going too far! I… I can’t do that!”

Shouto blinked slowly, once, twice, and then returned his attention back to the case as he released the clasps.

“Don’t worry about it,” Shouto says as he lays out a few things from the box, and a nervous shiver goes down your spine as you see what he brought.

A collar, leash, vibrator wand, ball gag, a spreader bar with bondage cuffs, so much lube, and a fucking machine.

Your jaw drops as he lays them out neatly, his eyes turning back towards you, and there’s a silent moment where the two of you simply stare at each other.

“That’s going too far,” you squeak as you pull at the hem of your dress, the nerves hit you as he shifts to look at you directly. “I can’t… if Endeavor found out, he’s going to kill us!”

“Endeavor isn’t going to find out,” Shouto’s upper lip curled into a snarl as his eyes flashed dangerously. “We’ll wash the sheets, whatever the hell makes you convinced he won’t find out. But right now? I fucking need you the way I was planning on having you.”

His words fall almost alluringly in your ears, and goosebumps flash across your skin; butterflies fly in your stomach as you moan at the thought of what his intentions were for tonight. You chewed nervously on your bottom lip as you thought it over, trying to figure out what exactly you needed to do because there was no getting out of this. You were beyond horny now, but it didn’t take much to see the danger in doing this.

But no, you couldn’t do this!

“Shouto, let’s — oh my god!”

Shouto, while you were lost in your thoughts, had begun to strip off his shirt. His toned and scarred torso ridiculously defined in the lighting of the room, and he stared at you dead-on as he ran a hand through his falling locks. Your breathing turns into a frenzy as he walks over to you, his hands slipping into the pockets of his slacks until he’s centimeters before you.

Your eyes struggle not to scour your boyfriend’s body like some hormonal fangirl, you recited the Pro Hero Guidebook in your head as you fought off the urge to just jump him. Were pheromones a thing for humans? If they were, he was definitely putting you under some spell that was making you succumb to his own lusts.

“I know what I want,” he whispers as his lips brush against your sore neck, and a voluptuous moan resounds loudly from you. Your breasts rise and fall quickly as your hands press against his warm skin, and your eyes flutter closed as his lips press heavier against your skin. “I know what I need. I need you more than life itself, and I only want you, y/n.”

Not daring to open your eyes in fear of having this gone too soon, you feel yourself nodding.

“Fuck me right then…”

A chuckle deep in his throat reverberated against you, and then you felt his lips back on you.

Hot, fast, dangerous.

You struggled to keep up as Shouto tossed you up, and your legs automatically went to wrap around his waist.

Hunger, desire, need.

That was the way Shouto kissed you right now, his lips downright eager, yet it wasn’t the right word to use. You could feel his hard-on pressing against your ass as you drew him in closer. Hands pressed against his neck, clawing at the bare skin as you wanted more from him — you craved more from him.

It was when you pressed your chest into him that caused a small yelp of protest to escape your lips. In your impassioned drunkness, Shouto had been holding your ass firmly in his grip. His fingers digging into your soft flesh under the hem of your dress until he seemed to be sick of it.

The sound of ripping fabric echoed in your ears as you pulled away from Shouto’s luring mouth. The dress fell loose around your body as you watched as he pulled the remains of your dress from between the two of you. You slammed your hands against his chest in protest as Shouto took the destroyed material and tossed it onto the floor.

“It was in the way,” Shouto chuckles as he ignores your protests as he brings you back in for another kiss. “I’ll buy you a new one, I’m the one who bought it after all.”

Your eyes twitch as his fingers trace the lingerie that remained secured on your body; the anger you had vanished quickly the moment he brushed his thumb over your clothed nipple. Yes, there were apparent problems with knowing everything about your partner’s body, as in times like this, your anger flew out the window as his thumb and forefinger pinched your nipple.

You reacted with a shrill mewl as your hips automatically ground against his, and your head slammed against his shoulder. You felt his cold fingers press the bra down, and your mind nearly went blank as his calloused fingers made contact with your sensitive nipples.

“S-Shouto,” you stammer as you feel your neck blushing as his teeth nip at your earlobe, tingling pleasure scorching your body as he does it a few more times. Low and sultry moans escape your mouth as the heightening bliss of this interaction was getting to you.

“Fuck,” Shouto chuckled as he began moving towards the bed, and you tremble as the friction between your crotches increase. The pressure of his clothed cock sends your mind spinning against your barely covered core. “You’re so gorgeous, love.”

Panting in agreement, your hips bucked weakly against his as the pleasure of him biting your earlobe, his fingers pinching, pulling, and rolling your nipple, and the way his hips met your grinding hips.

Low and pounding heat grew in your stomach, and you whimpered as his hand groped your breast.

But then it was gone, and your body was tossed against a soft bed.

The coolness and freshness of the sheets once more sent a memory of whose bed this was. And the consequences for your actions.

“Shouto!” You squeaked as Shouto climbed onto the bed, his hands holding the lube as his eyes glanced at you.

Lust, amazement, love, and confusion.

“What is it?”

“This is Endeavors bed,” you find yourself repeating, although you were past the point of caring. It just came back up like word vomit.

“Fuck what he says,” Shouto snaps as he drops the lube. His eyebrows were scrunched together in his annoyance and anger, and you could see the muscles flaring in his jaw. There’s a cold laugh that leaves Shouto’s mouth as he grabs the spreader, and you feel your heart stop. “I don’t like it when you’re saying other trash names when I’m about to fuck you, princess.”

Your eyes widen as Shouto is by your feet with the spreader, his head down, and his hair falling to cover his dark eyes.

“I think you need to prove to me that you deserve to let me fuck you.”

Before you could ask, before you could question his actions, Shouto tore your panties from your hips and held them in his fingers. His eyes widening as he sees the soaked thin fabric between his fingers.

You sat up straight, trying to grab for your panties, embarrassed by how wet you had been even though practically nothing had happened. But Shouto was faster and far stronger. With a heavy hand, he shoved your shoulder back, and you fell back onto the mattress, and as you collected yourself, something tight wrapped around your ankles.

“SHOUTO!”

On your ankles sat the spreader bar, the black steel shining dangerously at you as you stared up at your boyfriend, who placed your panties into his slack pockets.

“You’ll get those back if you behave,” Shouto hums as he sat down. “Now, if you want my cock, you better make yourself cum.”

“I’m not masturbating,” you snap embarrassed as you felt exposed. Your legs were wide open, your slick essence already coating your inner thighs and the smell of your sex filling your nose as you tried in repetitive failure to close your legs.

“Fine,” Shouto says coolly as he stands up from the bed. “Have fun letting Endeavor see you like this. Cunt wet and exposed like a filthy fucking whore.”

You’re stunned into silence as you watch as he walks towards the door, his eyes unamused yet challenging as he places a hand on the knob.

“But you would like that, huh? You’d let other men fuck what’s mine? Is this what you wanted all along?”

Shouto lets out a dry laugh as he dares you to not do anything, but the pure stupidity behind his words makes you angry. It boils in your stomach as you lay down, your eye contact not breaking as you pull down the other bra cup. Then your fingers trail from your collarbone down to your breasts, teasing your pert nipples.

Electrifying pleasure rolls through you as you play with your breasts. Each tug, pull and turn making your knees slam together in an attempt to get friction to your cunt.

“Come on,” Shouto smirks as he rests at the foot of the bed. His arms are crossed against his chest, and he’s drinking you in. “Put your fingers where you want me.”

“I’m not putting my fingers up my ass,” you grin, your bottom lip captured between your teeth as another building pleasure slams through your body.

Shouto doesn’t say anything, his eyes only getting darker as you bring your fleshy mounds to your mouth and take a playful bite.

Eyes were powerful, and Shouto had some of the most intense eyes you’d ever known. So the way he gorged your figure as your hand flattened against your skin while trailing down your navel to where you were desperate for attention set your skin on fire.

Your legs trembled as the nail of your middle finger teased the middle of your lower lips, and you felt like you were choking at the way he zeroed in on your teasing fingers.

“Give me a show.”

Groaning at the way his words clung to you, your fingers pressed against your throbbing clit as your eye contact was broken by your head tossing back. You were so turned on that this gentle pressure felt overwhelming as you cried his name.

Your other hand dropping your breast and pressed against your inner thigh, your other fingers moving from your clit to your cunt.

In went one finger, the initial tightness making you sigh as you pumped your finger with no intent in mind. Then went in another finger and another. Your inner walls clenching around your intruding fingers, making you gasp at the velvety warmth of it all. Eyes fluttering open, you move your wrist, and your fingers move fluidly within you.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” Shouto groans as he watches your movements like a hawk, his eyes burning themselves into your exposed cunt.

But it made you feel so good.

With a single heave, your pumping fingers increased in their speed and intensity. Growing so much, your walls squeezed against your moving fingers. Your fingers pounded into your wet core, the sounds of the entering and exiting appendages, making you whine as your free hand pressed against your clit. Your hips bucked up against your moving fingers in an attempt to further increase this intense desire.

Your fingers continued to dance against your needy clit as you shook.

Hot fire slammed to your toes as they curled in your overwhelming pleasure. Your eyes clenching closed as you rubbed hard and fast circles into your desperate clit. Your back arching off the bed multiple times, almost ending with you falling onto your side due to the imbalance caused by the restraint bar.

Faster and hard, faster, and harder.

The squelching of your soaked pussy and pistoning fingers were heavy in your ear as you shrieked. Your legs were spasming, kicking, and your hips thrusting as your end was nearing fast. Shouto’s name continued to be cried from your mouth as you curled your fingers in you, and your fingers pinched your clit, and then an idea slams through you.

Use Endeavor’s name.

And as your orgasm crashed through you, a pitched scream sounded in the room as it all clashed within you.

His name was used.

Your body trembling as you lay on the bed, your fingers still knuckle deep within you as you pant. Your slick essence coats your hands as you manage to sit up, out of breath, and staring at Shouto in a challenging way as you removed your fingers from within you.

There’s a scoff, a sound almost similar to a snarl, and you watch as Shouto shakes his head.

“Aren’t you being a fucking slut.”

Blinking slowly, you heard his pants hit the ground when the belt clacked against the wooden floors. Then you saw that he was by your legs, his cock erect and pressing onto his stomach, the head already beading. Pre-cum dripped from his tip, and you feel victorious at the way he was so turned on.

But it seemed that the dress wasn’t the only thing being destroyed today.

His left hand held onto the fabric of your bra, and you watched in heated horror as he reduced the lingerie to ash.

“Shouto?! What the fu— mmph?!”

Shouto shoved your cum slick fingers in your mouth, and you mewled at the taste of your sweet essence on your fingers.

“Suck it all off,” he practically hissed as he moved your wrists, emulating a blowjob as you groaned against your fingers. “You don’t deserve to be fucked like a princess, do you?”

Your protests against your fingers were ignored as he pressed you against the bed, and you choked as your fingernail stabbed the back of your throat. But it didn’t matter to Shouto, no, not at all.

“If you want to be saying Endeavor’s — fucking scum’s name in bed, I’ll treat you no better than a fucking whore.”

There was a moment of silence as he watched you gag against your own fingers, his weight keeping you locked onto the mattress. But then it was over, and his hand grabbed the bar between your ankles, and he yanked it up.

Your teeth lock around your fingers in your surprise, but he lets go of your wrist, your eyes lock on his as your knees rest beside your chest, and you blink in confusion as he glares down at you.

“Hold it,” he commands as your hands move to hold the bar. It’s cold against your fingers, and the areas that are coated with your saliva make the bar slippery and wet.

“W-Why?” You hoarsely ask, your throat thick from the continuous stabbing of your finger. Typically when the bar was used, Shouto always held it.

“I told you you were going to be fucked like a whore, right? That makes you easy. I don’t need to work hard for someone who does this daily. But that means you should be good at this, so see that clock? In ten minutes, if you cum more than three times, you’ll get punished.”

Your mouth opens to respond to him, but Shouto presses his hands against the bottom of your thighs and, with accurate precision, thrusts wholly into you.

Your grip on the bar almost weakens entirely as his cock fills you completely, your words of protest become gasping pleas as the tip of his cock presses against your cervix, and you feel dizzy, your fluttering walls adjusting. His cock was thick, and it was lengthy; your inner walls ached against him as you adjusted, but regardless of how tight it felt, you could sense your essence spilling from you as Shouto sighed.

He shifted, and in a matter of seconds, you watched as his hips snapped backward before thrusting back into you.

The stretch of your legs makes you feel as if you weren’t breathing correctly. Each breath was short and raspy as you clung to the metal bar as Shouto repetitively slams his cock into your cunt.

“Shit, such a pretty cunt you have,” he rasps as your walls spam against him with his wild thrusts. He moves his hands further up your legs so that they press against your knees, pushing you into the mattress, increasing the angle of which he drills down into you.

Pathetically, your hips attempt to rise up in meet him, to increase this brutal force he was using as you crave even more. It was too much.

The sounds of his cock slamming into your sopping pussy created loud wet noises that you cried in embarrassment, but Shouto found it as an excuse to speed up. His rugged grunts are music to your ears as his cock hits your walls every time. The stretch he gives you was boggling, and you were progressively less cognitive aware as he drilled in harder. His slams were so hard that the sound of his thighs hitting your ass let out a continuous and loud slap.

His fingers gorge into your skin, and you cry his name like a hopeful prayer as he is fueled by your appraisal.

Your hands are weak against the bar, and it feels as if it’s slipping the moment he releases his right hand from your leg. You cry as the angle of penetration lessens, but his ramming continues at the same pace, and his fingers land on a puffy and sensitive bundle of nerves. The simple action set you enflame as you wailed his name, and Shouto bit your inner calf as his finger cooled dramatically against your clit.

The difference between your body that felt like it was on fire and the bitter ice of his fingers made your body spasm uncontrollably. The bar was being pulled in by your forearms as exploding pleasure slams through every vein in your body. But your thrashing and wailing do not stop Shouto, nor do they lessen the pace and the force he’s settled in as the bed begins to sway with every powerful thrust.

“I needa— holy shit, r-right there!”

“What? Do you need to come already?” Shouto mocks against your calve, and you whimper as he bites it again.

Your eyes can no longer stay open as the only noises leaving your mouth are whines and begs for more. You forcibly clench around him in an attempt to stir a reaction from him, but all he does is curse loudly as he continues his rutting force. The pounding is rhythmic. The feeling of Shouto’s cock entering and leaving you draws your eyes to the back of your head as you whimper his name, his thighs hitting your ass at bruising force, only adding to your pleasure. His finger getting colder by the second as it simmers against your burning clit. Your heart hammering in your ears as you heard Shouto snap at you.

“Cum.”

The orgasm that had been surging within you crashed through you in a fiery white heat as your jaw slacks in a silent scream. Your body convulses against your hold and his, but Shouto doesn’t stop, not even when your toes curl, not even when you sob.

“Shouto!”

He pulled out then, his pants heavy in your ear, and something ripped through you as the weirdest sensation floods through you. Your cunt throbs uncharacteristically harder as you softly sob Shouto’s name.

You had squirted.

It was all over the comforter; there was even some on Shouto’s lower abs that shone in a mixture of sweat and you.

Your head slams back into the mattress as you can feel your heartbeat in your cunt, your chest heaving at the experience you just had. You’ve never squirted before, and your body felt like it was short-circuiting as you remained on your back.

“Look at that,” Shouto mused as he unfastened the restraints on your ankles, and your thighs crashed together, an inevitable soreness throbbing within as you lay speechless. That had winded you. “For someone not wanting to make a scene on his bed, you just wet a whole portion to it. I don’t think you even care if he finds out I fucked you on his bed, y/n. A little whore like you, you probably want the entire neighborhood to know.”

“I don’t,” you gasp as you struggle to find your breath still, and Shouto hums as he turns you over onto your stomach.

You’re not sure if it was a forcible push or something gentle. All you know is that your body burned where he touched you, and your thighs ached as you settled on your stomach.

“How the fuck am I supposed to fuck you like that?” Shouto snaps at you, and your eyes widen as you shift your head to look at Shouto’s whose cock is still erect, and you realize in a dawning horror that you had come twice now, and he had not.

Then there was the challenge, he only had to make you come three more times to do whatever insidious things he had planned. Your fingers fisted in the sheets as you groaned loudly. His body heat radiated onto you, and you rub your thighs together at the thought of Shouto gripping your ass as he drilled into you from behind.

You needed to get him to do that, but to make sure you didn’t come.

“I don’t want to,” you stall, hoping that in moments like these, it would help in your favor.

“Let go of the sheets,” Shouto ignores you as he gives a pointed look at your hands that clutched the sheets.

“Nope.”

The heat he provided was suddenly gone, and your eyes widened as a closet door creaks open. You watch as Shouto stands by a closet, a hand on his hip as he studies the closet before him, and you let out a strangled noise as you can already taste what he’s getting out.

“Shouto, do not!”

“Don’t what?” Shouto asks as he pulls out four brightly colored ties that Endeavor owned. “They’ll get cleaned up and put away, I mean look at the mess you already made, this shouldn’t concern you.”

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment as you look at the stained sheets below you, and you sit on your knees as you cross your arms.

“Using Endeavors clothes as bondage is going too far!”

Shouto looked at you, his eyes annoyed, angry, and uncaring, then he shrugs. He takes a few strides, and he’s back on the bed.

“He should have thought of that before being a dick.”

There was no time to react as Shouto grabbed your wrists in his hand and tugged you towards him. Before you could attempt to pull back, to resist ruining more of Endeavors’ personal belongings, the tie is properly looped around your arms, and you’re locked in place.

“Now on your hands and knees like a good slut,” Shouto directs running a hand through his sweaty locks while rising to his knees. The tie is almost uncomfortable with how tight it is, and you remain stagnant, staring at your boyfriend, who was insistently becoming more of a dom than you had ever seen him as. But with your lack of action, his expression sours, and he grasps your cheeks in his hand. “Are you fucking deaf?

You gasp loudly when Shouto’s hand brings your face to the mattress, your back curved, arms pressed into your breasts.

“I thought whores had better form than this,” Shouto sneers while pressing a heavy hand against the center of your spine. You adjusted immediately under his force, your back arching with your pert ass in the air. “Much better.”

The mattress pressed against your chest in a suffocating way, your heart hammering as you realized what was to come.

“Shouto, please,” your voice pleads again; his hands roam your ass and hips, whispering nasty sweet things to you while the tip of his cock presses against your still wet cunt. “Don’t make a mess of me, not on Endeavors bed.”

There was a moment of silence while his hands disappeared from your skin. Licking your lips, you turned your head to see what exactly his expression was. But you were too late.

He slammed his right hand against your ass cheek, causing you to shriek while your skin throbbed in his wake. The pain made your legs buckle, a hot pressure reigniting in your core, and another loud slap repeated on your opposite cheek.

Fisting in your hair, you yelped loudly when Shouto yanked your head back. The arch in your back was dramatized by this action; your back ached as another heavy slap echoed against your troubled skin. His dense, almost wild breathing hits the shell of your ear, and chills shoot down your spine when he snarls.

“Who the fuck matters to you right now?” He hisses in your ear. “Is it Endeavor fucking you on this bed right now? No—” his hand comes down against your ass with every word, ignoring your growing sobs— “I’m the one fucking you. The only man’s name you should be uttering is mine. Do. You. Understand?”

The next spank that comes across your ass nearly sends you tumbling over at the strength and power behind it. Your arms buckle under you, the weight and struggle to keep yourself upright was a challenge as Shouto abused your ass.

“Answer me, whore.”

There was no stopping Shouto’s heavy hand against your pert ass, and you could not think of anything but how your cunt throbbed for the man behind you. Your sobs of pain had long ago become those of pleasure, and you could feel the raised prints of his hands on your sore cheeks. It delighted you.

“Y-Yes, sir!” You pant, your body trembling in your excitement and need for more.

“You like this, don’t you,” he sneers while he rubs circles against your heated skin. “You’re trembling with excitement as you try telling me you don’t want me to fuck you here. Do you want me to leave you here? With no clothes, no way back home? Count the number of times I spank you, I want to hear you counting and thanking me every time.”

Slap.

“One. T-Thank you, sir.”

Your words were barely above a whisper, just enough for Shouto to hear you thank him as you trembled like a leaf before him. His upper lip pulled back into a sneer as he let go of your hair, throwing your head into the mattress, and his fingers go and pinch your nether lips, and you cried loudly.

“I know you can fucking scream louder than that, don’t make me ask again. From the top.”

The words were like honey to your ear, and you shifted in an attempt to ease the growing lust between your legs.

Slap.

“One! Thank you, s-sir!”

Your mind reeled as Shouto continued his conquest against your ass. You could barely remember the number you were on by the time he was done with you, the added sensation of his alternating heated and chilled hands increasing the desire in you to find you as you were now. Ass bright red and in the air, back arched further than you had ever gone, and saliva and tears seeping onto your bond arms.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he observes as two of his fingers slide against your wet slit, and your ragged moans fill the area at the need of more. He continued petting you, and while feeling finally returned to your abused ass, your hips began to buck against his wandering hands, trying to get them to slip between the folds. “Such a greedy little slut.”

His chuckle is barely heard by you, for as he said that, he pressed the head of his cock into your cunt. A sharp whine slams from your throat as the emptiness of this action makes you crave more. You shift your ass back, the action full of temporary regret as soring pain flashes through your lower body. He did not hold back.

Gritting your teeth, you continued pushing against him, craving more.

“Is this not good enough for you?” Shouto chuckles, but there’s no light humor to his laughter. “Good.”

At that phrase, Shouto slams into you at full force again, causing you to bite down hard against your saliva-coated and bound arms as you feel his cock twitch within you. Your breathing is harsh as you focus on the nightstand and see the clock. It’s felt like an eternity, but only three minutes had passed since the bet was made. If you won, you’d move this fuck feast into his bedroom.

“Seven minutes,” you choke against your skin, not wanting to show how turned on you were.

The instant you were done chiding him, you regretted telling Shouto the amount of time he had left. The bed shifted by your knees, and you could only imagine what was happening as you could feel his cock moving out of you and slamming back into you.

The angle and power behind these thrusts were different than what you were used to from the standard doggy style. With each hypnotizing slam of his hips, shrill moans of pleasures ripped from your throat, and you preened your head to look at Shouto.

Sure enough, Shouto was positioned on his feet, his knees bent as he dropped into your awaiting cunt with such savagery your eyes rolled back watching him. Sweat dripped down his neck, his hands gripping your bruised and battered ass like some type of life support, and the squelching noises of your slamming sex were making your body weak.

“That feels so — fuck — do that!”

“Who—” slap— “Are—” slap— “You—” slap— “Addressing?!” Slap!

“Y-You, sir!” You scream, your hips buck against his slamming hips. It was so raw, so rough, and you were enjoying every passing second.

Shouto chuckles at your praise, all while he continues to fuck you roughly. He was in a zone, his concentration like steel as he pounded into you again and again. Your inner walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating cock, and the heated pressure had built up all over again.

His cock twitched within you, it knocked the breath out of you; his fingers twisted into your hair.

“Fucking cum with me,” he demands, jerking your head back towards him again, and you sob as your legs tremble against his increasing power.

You feel your eyes cross, screaming out his name as your walls clamp down fiercely against his length. Shouto curses loudly, pulling out of you while your cum drips from your folds. But a hot and sticky substance hits the curve of your ass while Shouto lets out a string of curses, and you moan knowing that he came on you.

“That was two,” Shouto reminds you as you groan into the sheets.

“That was two,” you mock hoarsely, but you’re unable to move, your body locked in the way he had fucked you.

“Look,” Shouto says, ignoring your disrespect, for you can hear the prideful smirk on his tone as he forces you onto your side. “You made another mess.”

“You��re cleaning up Endeavors bed when we’re done,” you whimper, making no attempt to sit up, your body screaming in pain when you lay still.

“You really can’t seem to get his name out of your fucking mouth, can you?” Shouto barks while he moves to sit against the headboard. “What do I have to do to get you to fucking forget him? Choke you until you pass out? Break that pretty little mind and pussy of yours?”

There is no time to argue, Shouto grabs your legs and drags you over to him, your sensitive ass burning against the cum soaked comforter until you were at his side. Your pained breaths still as Shouto glares down at you, his left hand undoing the saliva-coated tie around your wrists, leaving the fabric slightly burnt while he tosses it to the side. Your arms throb as blood rushes back through it.

But before you could relish the feeling of your arms back, Shouto has his chest pressed against your back, and his right hand angling his once again hardening cock upwards.

“Since I mean nothing to you, make yourself cum.”

With that, he dropped your aching pussy onto his dick.

The feeling of his cock wholly sheathed within you, mercilessly slamming against the wall of your cervix and staying pressed tightly there. The delirious sensation made your head crash back against his shoulder, and your legs kicked out in response. Loud and low moans reverberated from your lips while adjusting to him buried within you again.

Your mind reeled while you adjusted, and Shouto angled his knees up, his scorching and robust grip moving your legs outside of his, causing your hips to spread against him.

“I told you to move,” he snaps, his fingers twisting your sensitive nipple harshly, your resulting wail muffled by you burying your face into his neck. “I didn’t pay for you to sit there.”

Puffs of air escaped your mouth quickly, and your feet shakily pressed into the mattress. You needed to move for him. But you were too slow, and a sharp and icy cold slap hit your clit.

Your body impulsively arched forward, your body rising up from his cock before you collapsed back down. But the sensation of his cock hitting your cervix made you shudder.

“Faster.”

So you began to rise and fall against his length, his hot breathing fanning against your sweat-soaked skin made your body shudder against his. His fingers found a place on your hips to hold, and you moaned at his bruising grip.

Your thighs burned with every bounce of your body, your head lolling to the side, stammering Shouto’s name as your walls clenched and squeezed against his hard cock. You wanted more of him. You needed more of him. Choked out screams rung from your throat as your hand gripped onto his knees, your body trying to support the numb ache that was shooting through your body.

“Shouto,” you puff, his fingers digging into your flesh, making you gasp.

“Why don’t you follow fucking instructions,” Shouto gnashes his teeth, and his left-hand moves from your hip to your clit. A jolt of massive arousal shoots through your body, a warm presence pressing into you as he teases your clit, causing you to roll your hips against his. But it grows hot, hotter, and hotter. It’s too hot, and his movements are painful yet disgustingly pleasurable. Pained and animalistic sobs pouring from your mouth while he deliberately abuses your throat. “What are you supposed to call me?!”

“S-Sir!” You weep, slamming your hips back down against his in pathetic attempt to lose his hold against your puffy nerve. “I’m supposed to c-call you, sir!!”

“Then why haven’t you been?!” Before you could attempt to respond, Shouto’s right-hand leaves your hip and slams to your throat, choking the response from you. “I don’t want to hear your answer.”

His hand remains heavy and tight around your throat, his hold barely allowing oxygen to travel through to your lungs. Your vision fuzzed, and you could feel your heartbeat in your head, but your core shook with Shouto’s now reciprocating and rhythmic slams.

Choking, clit stimulation, his cock pounding into your cervix, his fingers hotter than coal, and Shouto chuckled into your skin. His thrusting hips were becoming more precise, angling into you in a way that made you audibly choke when you needed to gasp. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen to your body that was making you delirious, or perhaps it was the fact that he was slamming into you with the strength of rearranging your guts, but your hips began to swivel at an inhumane pace. Your cunt held a vice grip around his cock, yet it did nothing to slow Shouto down, but the growing heated pit in your lower belly was making your legs tremble against his. Still, you tried to keep up with his rough and cruel pace, and Shouto enjoyed knowing that detail.

“Such a fucking tramp, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He sneers, his teeth biting down against the curve of your shoulder. “You enjoy being choked?”

Your head nods, “Y-Yes, sir!”

“Do you need to cum?” There was no reason for Shouto to ask that; the answer was obvious enough. “Good.”

If you thought Shouto was rough, as soon as that word rolled off his tongue, he only got worse.

His hand against your throat tightened, and black dots littered your vision; the coldness of his ice burned against your skin. His teeth sunk far into your skin, enough for you to feel your skin breaking as his tongue moving in cold and heated strokes to calm your now irritated skin. Then there were his nimble fingers running against your clit, and entering your cunt between your spastic walls and his hammering and throbbing cock. But your bouncing held no value anymore, Shouto’s hips snapped upwards fast enough and powerful enough to overcome and overwhelm you. The only thing you could tell was that along with the tip of his cock hitting your bruised walls, the sounds of your sopping wet pussy crashing against his forceful hips rang in your ears in a primal yet excited fashion.

Despite his hold on your neck, nothing was holding back the scream that left your mouth as you orgasmed.

White stars filled your vision as Shouto ripped his cock from you, and that same sensation of peeing bewildered you as he held your body up. You had squirted again, but your ragged and shallow breathing had only increased, and there was something warm and wet painted on your back.

“That was three,” Shouto whispers into your ear, his teeth tugging at your earlobe, and you shuddered. “I should get extra points for making you squirt.”

To that, all you could muster was an embarrassing moan as your dazed eyes focused on yet another wet stain on the bed. Three minutes left, that’s how much you had to endure to win.

Three more minutes.

Unfortunately for you, Shouto was well aware of this, so he wasted no time.

Once again, he shoved you to the side. Your body crumpling onto the mattress, aching and sharp pains flooding your body as you lay there. Your clit throbbed in time with your heartbeat, and your inner thighs were coated entirely with your cum — both new and old. Maybe your body would be incapable of cumming at this point now? You sure hoped so… or not.

“Up,” Shouto commanded but gave you no autonomy since he grabbed your hair by the roots and tugged you onto your knees. You whimper in your throat at the stabbing pain settling in your lower body, you were still recovering from him rearranging your guts. But you caught sight of the cum he had released onto your back pressed all over the covers, and your breathing stopped.

“Shou— ack!!”

A collar locked around your throat, and you wheezed loudly; you hadn’t managed to catch your breath still. Your body swayed forward into his hold as your head spun due to the lack of oxygen, but Shouto seized you his eyes wide and worried as he stared at you.

“Shit, baby, are you okay?”

You nodded your head, oxygen slowly spreading back into your body.

“Sorry,” you hoarse, pushing away, your face burning with embarrassment. “You just surprised me.”

Shouto seemed unconvinced as his hands held onto your cheeks, his fingers stroking your sweat plastered hair out of the way, tracing your bruised lips and against the marks and bites on your exposed skin. The delicate touches are long forgotten on your skin, your lips sighing while he sends warm pulses from his fingers to the aches of your joints.

“You sure?”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved Shouto away, “I’m fine! You just made me spread your cum on Endeavor’s bed!”

Just like that, your loving boyfriend died, and the man who had been fucking you this entire day was back. His hands locked back to where the collar was, and your eyes nearly boggled out of your sockets when he tightened it more until it burned to breathe. But you remained calmed as a black leash appeared from seemingly nowhere and attached to the collar.

“Since you liked being choked so much, I might as well give you what you want without straining me.”

Your eyes widened, your ability to talk back removed.

“Now, ride my cock again,” he grins with the slightest hint sadistic, and as you move to do as instructed, he yanks at the leash. Falling onto your hands, your eyes widen while you stare at Shouto, who merely raises a cocky brow at you. “You have two minutes to make yourself cum.”

“I’m not going to,” you strain, the choking of the collar and the simple manipulation of your body already making that all too familiar heat spread upon your loins.

“You don’t have a choice,” Shouto mocks, his hand moving to grasp the leash centimeters from the collar and yanks your face close to his. But the movement is sharp and rough, the collar strangling you. You scramble on your hands and knees to get closer, stopping when his lips ghost over yours. “And you won’t have one until you’re begging me to fuck you into a puddle, not until you’re nothing more than my cum slut, and until you no longer care about dirtying Endeavors bed.”

The words are fire on your skin, and bubbling lust grows in you again.

There’s nothing to say except give a doe-eyed nod, but Shouto appreciates this submission as his lips take yours. They’re hungry, possessive, and ardent, moving against your mouth with fervent intention. Your mind slips when you straddle him, your soaked core brushing against his tip, and Shouto guides you back down onto his cock.

Your abused pussy had been through a lot, and a loud hiss passes through your teeth as you sunk all the way on him. Your teeth biting onto Shouto’s lip to control the pain-filled pleasure that corroded your body at the moment. It still felt so crazed, the sensation of your heartbeat in your inner walls shifting and hugging Shouto’s still throbbing head,

But the slowness is gone when Shouto pulls away. His hands on the leash as he yanks the cord up and back down.

“Follow my actions, “ Shouto warns, and you weakly nod.

His hand moves the leash back and forward, and the soreness of your cunt bleeds into your actions as you imitate him. Your rolling hips are slow, your hands pressing against his shoulders as you roll your hips against him. There’s a dark mutter from Shouto’s mouth when you lock eyes with him, and his nostrils flare. His hand suddenly grabs onto your waist, making you freeze in your decent back down onto his cock, but he beats you too it, for his cock rams into your dripping cunt. A shriek ripping from your throat as he pounds into you. Your fingers digging into his shoulders to hold onto for support.

“SHOUTO!” You shriek as he ruthlessly slams into you. His hips coming up so fast your body bounces with every thrust. Your moans tumble out in chokes, your face turning red as oxygen fails to fill your lungs. The thrusting is intense, and your hands on his shoulder are more of a lifeline; the bed is quick to move with your movements, the considerable bed groaning under the harsh actions. Its squeaks and tremors are loud in your ear alongside his insistent pounding.

“What’s that, whore?” He growls, his hips hammering into you at mind fogging speed. The leash on the collar being yanked to pull you closer; your bare and sweat-slick skin pressed against his. “What’s my fucking name?!”

“Sir!” you shriek as your pussy throbs around his pounding cock. You’re unable to even twirl your hips in rhythm with him. You were stuck to the lap, only able to feel his cock entering you at toe-curling speeds. “Oh my god, FUCK, please— I —shit!”

Words failed you miserably as Shouto’s hot and sweet tongue drags against your collarbone, his teeth burying into your primed skin as your eyes roll back.

Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. One more minute.

“You take my cock so well,” Shouto grunts as he releases one hand from your waist and runs it down your navel to press against your clit. Your head throws back, your back arching further into his chest as you scream again. Your pussy clenching with no remorse around his cock. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Do you want to come now, slut?”

You can only shake your head, you didn’t want to cum; the pressure continues to build and build.

“I need to hear your words.”

“I don’t need to cum,” you sob out as your body trembles under his thrusting, you’re so close you see stars. “I don’t need to — sir, please, I can — oH SHIT!!!”

Shouto growls as his hand wraps around the leash, wrapping it around your bruised neck as he tightens the chokehold on you. You’re being strangled, and the air feels like its burning as it goes down your tightened passage, but your cunt throbs in excitement when he presses his mouth to your ear, “I don’t give a shit if you don’t need to cum, you’ll do it regardless.” Your mouth dropped open, your eyes crossing, and a loud whine emitted from you when his hand moved to pinch your nipple, and his mouth found a place on your sensitive nipple.

That’s all it takes, and you come hard around his dick, his name ripping through your abused body as he groans. His tongue lashes against your nipple, his teeth tugging at the pebbled skin all while he continues pummeling into you. Chasing after his own orgasm now.

You pant harshly, moving your hips against his own. Your pussy still twitching around his throbbing dick. You hear him expel a wavering sigh, and you can feel him come within you. The heated fluid fills you up, and he lets go of your sore breast; he collapses onto the bed with you landing on his chest.

“You lost,” he whispers after a moment of silence. Your breath picked up in a panic, you were fucked. “On your knees.”

You groan loudly when Shouto sits up, lifting you up with him, and you can feel the intermingled cum dripping out of you, falling onto your thighs. Your eyes flutter when Shouto kneels before you, his face victorious and poised as he undoes the collar against your throat. Although you took a full breath of air with every, inhale, your breathing is finicky as you’re terrified of what’s to come. You’re silent while watching Shouto make his way make to the no longer neat line of sex toys.

He grabs two things: the vibrator, spreader bar, and four of Endeavors’ ties.

Shouto rises to his feet as he walks back towards you, and while you hated doing this on Endeavors — now filthy — bed, your mouth opened.

“Close your mouth, whore,” Shouto chides, his arms above his head tying the colored fabric to the fan blades above the bed.

“What are you—?!”

“You care too much about making a mess for some selfish pig,” Shouto shrugs, he falls into a squat after securing the ties to the fan. There’s a dark and almost amused glint in his eyes when he stares at you. “Now, I’ll give you a reason to worry.”

Before you could protest, pull away, or scramble from the center of the bed, Shouto grabs your right hand and secures the tie around it.

“Shouto!” You panic when he succeeds in capturing both your wrists. Breathing sharply, you looked up at the flimsy blades that curved under the weight of your arms. If you moved to harshly, if you struggled against this punishment or collapsed too early, it would break. Oh, no… snapping your head behind you to where your boyfriend was relocking your ankles into the spreader bar. “Please, baby, I can’t do this!”

Shouto ignores you, and cold sweat runs through you at what’s to come, you wouldn’t be able to resist bringing your elbows down if the vibrator was pressed into your clit. How were you supposed to not wholly destroy Endeavors’ property?!

“S-Sir, think this through!” You begin to word vomit in your desperation while Shouto presses the vibrator against your right thigh, the smooth head holds against your clit, and he uses two more ties to secure it into place. “The bed is already a-a mess, I squirted! Twice! You came two times on the bed! Not to mention my saliva and the cum that’s dripping out of me! I can’t — we can’t break his fan!”

Shouto is unconcerned, his tongue tracing his teeth while mocking concern, “Then I guess you’ll have to work extra hard not to ruin more things in his room. Considering you care about that shit still.”

Your mouth opened to argue again, your body feeling like you needed to fight this because there was no way you were going to be able to last with your arms above your head, legs unable to come together, and a vibrator pulsating into your cunt. But as soon as you made your initial noise, Shouto turned on the vibrator to low.

The low buzz of the vibrator filled the room, and your mouth dropped in a silent scream. Your body was half numb already, having cum multiple times within the past hour was causing your body to convulse on occasion, but now with the vibrations being sent straight to your core, you felt on edge once again.

Trying to control your visible reaction, your hands gripped onto the cloth ties, your arms quivering as you try to keep from pulling down, and your hips thrusting subconsciously to the vibrations.

“S-Sir!” You sob as the slow and steady build in your belly was already growing. Your eyes locked on Shouto, who was a length away, his eyes gleaming in sadistic joy as his hand ran up and down his once again hardening cock. “P-Please, tie me to the bed! Not to Endeavor’s fan.”

The glint disappeared.

“You just won’t let me enjoy my fucking victory, will you?!”

You sucked in a harsh breath when you shifted your hips, the head of the vibrator brushing deliciously against your softly throbbing clit. You thrilled at the feeling of the vibrations on your clit, and your toes curled as your head fell forward. You needed to keep vigilante, you had to continue complaining so that Shouto would cave.

But you had completely forgotten about the ball gag.

“Open up.” Your head shakes no when Shouto holds the ball gag against your lips, there’s a warning noise. A dark growl emitted from his throat, and you feel your heart rate spike when his other hand roughly pinched in your cheeks. Your mouth opens against your will, and you splutter when his fingers shove into your mouth. You try to bite down on his fingers, but Shouto’s fingers turn ice cold making your mouth widen further, so then the gag was placed behind your teeth pressing into your tongue. You feel him lean against you, his lips by your ear as he whispers, “I don’t fucking remember asking.”

His hand lowers, and he amps up the vibration of the vibrator, and your body stiffens under the powerful waves. Being gagged was the worst, first drool always seeped past your lips with this particular gag on, and the uncomfortable pressure on your tongue sent your gag reflex flaring. Staring up at the ceiling, your noises were muffled at the source, staggering pleasure shooting through your veins as the medium vibrations made your long-abused cunt weep.

Your slick coated the head of the vibrator, and soaked you inner thighs, soaking the tie where it held contact with your skin. Your body spasmed as you sobbed in pleasure, your mind reeling and short-circuiting when your head dropped.

Focusing onto Shouto, your legs nearly gave out at the sight of your sweating and smirking boyfriend, his ears tinged with blush, and his fist stroking his huge cock. You wanted to have him slamming into you with the vibrator pressed into your clit, not this.

“Aren’t you having fun,” he pronounces slowly, his eyes — still dark with excitement and lust — dropped to your soaked thighs. “You look fucking delicious right now, princess.”

You clenched your core, the feeling of the vibrator only intensified, and you gagged when you tried to cry out. The feeling of your saliva pooling from your lips mortified you, your body twitching as Shouto only laughs again.

“I think we should go higher,” Shouto groans, his eyes momentarily closing as you assume a particularly gratifying shiver crawls down his spine. The muffled sounds of your disapproval only make his smirk more sinister when he abandons his own length and moves closer to you. Your eyes are wide, body attempting to shift away from him, but there was nowhere to go.

Air passed through your nose are heavy and sharp breaths, your chest hammering, and your puffy nerves throbbing while the vibrator continued powering into you.

“You’re so messy,” he drawls on his knees before you, his fingers touching the saliva coating your chin, and you sob in anticipation of what’s to come. He trails his fingers down your throat, the slickness of your saliva cold against your raw and bruised neck. “Maybe you don’t really care about fucking up scums bed, do you?”

You make a disapproving noise, your will holding on to a thread, and you vigorously shake your head. Shouto hums, his upper lip curling before his hand flattened and smacked your breast right on your nipple.

There was a loud crack when your arms pulled down, and you shrieked, your eyes trying to choose between focusing on Shouto and the fan blade you very much could have just broken. You whimper, your body twisting in an attempt to show submission, but Shouto isn’t done.

With an icy cold hand, he hits your aching and hot breast again and again and again. Your pained and pleasured wails muffled while you choke against the ball, and saliva pours from your mouth, your body trembling with excitement.

“Shut up,” he hisses, bringing his other hand to your face and striking you.

Your head slams to the side, the throbbing of your cunt intensifies with the burning of his handprint. Why did you like being slapped?! Saliva dribbles from your lips when you straighten back up. A now unignorable ache fills your arms from being in this tiresome position for a while now.

Everything felt like it was burning, sensations, and wantonness flooding your senses galore.

“I forget you like this,” Shouto groans as his hands grope your breast. Pulling, kneading, gripping and pinching the soft and moldable flesh in his hands, Shouto grins at your whimpers and the soft groans of the fan above the two of you. “Break the fan, I dare you.”

Your eyes slam shut at those words, and they remained closed as his hot and cold hands trail down your torso, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your lips twitch, the involuntary action to bite down on your lip prohibited by the gag. He must have seen considering the teasing pinch to your ass.

It was then that you froze. He was flushed against you, and the feeling of his cock pressing into the bottom of your sternum. Shouto’s right hand snaked behind you, those fingers playing with your dripping sex, and his left hand skimmed down your right inner thigh, resting onto the switch that changed the vibrational power.

“Don’t worry, princess,” he speaks in a low tone, an arrogant tone to his voice, “I’ll make you cum again.”

There was no time to contemplate his actions, for the vibrator was turned onto the highest setting and pressed into your clit, and his fingers sunk into your sopping wet cunt.

Even with the ball gag, the shriek of being overstimulated was as loud. It was as if you didn’t have the gag on at all. Your arms lurched forward against your will, the fan creaking loudly as you fell onto Shouto. You trembled more than a leaf in a storm, his fingers pumping deliciously and savagely into you, leaving behind the squelching noise of your wet core. The buzzing of the vibrator clear and steady and his cock twitched between the two of your bodies.

Sobbing and drooling moans escaped the gag, and Shouto relished in his ability to manipulate your body like this. His teeth leaving nipping kisses against the broken skin he left minutes before.

But the feeling of his teeth against your aggravated skin, the sensation of the powerful vibrations against your clit, and how he was still so responsive to you was nothing against his pistoning fingers dragged against that particular spot in your walls. His fingers scraped and slammed against your g-spot, and you felt your vision give way as a powerful force crashed through you.

You had squirted again, only that it seemed to last forever this time. Your lower body throbbing in its wake.

Your head collapsed against his shoulder, and when your vision came back, it was hazy and swam in your eyes. Whether Shouto had noticed or not, he still was slamming his fingers within your cunt with such intensity that — alongside the still buzzing vibrator — pressure built again within you. Heat seeped through you, and tears fell from your eyes when you came again.

Everything felt lethargic when Shouto removed his knuckle deep fingers from your sopping cunt, his tongue lapping away any of your essence remaining on his fingers. With a long pause, he finally turned off the vibrator.

Your breathing was shallow, your head spinning while he removed the bondage from your wrists and ankles. Collapsing onto your face, you felt your slick running thick on your thighs, mixing with the sweat that soaked your skin too.

Good god, were you exhausted.

“You broke the fan,” Shouto murmured.

Shrieking against the gag, adrenaline shot through your veins as you looked up. The fan blade had visible cracks in it, and your jaw dropped further.

Oh, fuck!

“Still haven’t learned,” he sighs, shaking his head. “That’s okay, you’ve always been a stubborn bitch.”

You whimper in agreement, your leg shifting so that you could feel the wet puddle you had made this time around. However, there was no time to relax.

Shouto grabbed you by your armpits and dragged you to the edge of the bed. Choking, you stared at him startled. There was no use in asking what was happening; Shouto bent your knees and wrapped two ties around each leg. One holding your ankle and upper thigh together, and the other one near your knee.

“Good,” Shouto approved, walking back to the side of the bed where the toys lay. Though soreness struck your body, you rose to your elbows and watched Shouto grab the fuck machine before returning to the bedside. “Because you squirted.” He says with a coy smile, lining the dildo to your exposed pussy and thrusting it in.

Your body slammed back down against the bed at the slickness of the dildo. You were so used to Shouto’s cock that the dildo was foreign as it buried within you.

“Now,” he sighs as he turns on the machine. Immediately the fuck machine blows into your tight and slippery cunt, your eyes rolling backward at the mere sensation of the speed it was at, and a loud mewl leaves your throat. His fingers snuck behind your head, unfastening the gag, and is removed with a saliva string, and a sob croaked through your voice as your mouth was finally free. “Suck my dick.”

With your head past the edge of the mattress, and the height lining you near perfectly to Shouto’s cock, he slides his cock into your sore throat. But ever so eager, Shouto wastes no time starting his conquest.

You try to keep up with the momentum of the toy and his viciously thrusting hips, your hips snapping against the toy despite its insane speed. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, and you choke against his cock. Shouto chuckles, his hands kneading your breasts, his moans tight and low, it had been a while since the last time he came.

“Look at you, so desperate,” Shouto chuckles, his fingers tweaking your hard nipples. “So fucking needy.”

The words ignite a fire within you, and your legs tremble in unspoken glee. You wanted him to fuck you until you were nothing less than a mess. You needed him to give you his cock instead of this stupid fucking machine — wait…

Your eyes widened when you realized the extent to your thoughts.

Fuck Endeavor, you thought, a shiver rolling down your spine. Your boyfriend was giving you the best dick down of your life, and you were too preoccupied with foolish worry! Shouto promised he was going to be cleaned up. You wanted Shouto, you needed him. Maybe you were whipped.

Your arms shot out, gripping the back of Shouto’s thighs as you willed him closer. Your jaw widening; you let hot breaths of air expelled from your mouth. You could feel Shouto peering down on you, but rolling your hips against the machine that was making your stomach bulge with every slam of its rod, your tongue lashed against his swollen head. Shouto’s thighs clench when your mouth sucks against the head of his cock, your tongue pressing flat against the tip.

“Did someone finally fucking wake up?” Shouto grunts, his hips moving with more unrestraint into your mouth.

Making a pleasant sound, you hollowed your cheeks out and tasted the saltiness of his pre-cum. Delighting at the harsh curse, you guided him further in.

One of his hands is soon braced on the fuck machine between your legs, but the other is tangled in your hair, pulling it and twisting it as he wishes. He’s pulling hard enough to hurt, enough so that you can choke against him, the angle and the position on your back already increasing the likeliness of that happening.

Shouto’s grip on your hair tightens, and he realizes that you’re keeping up impeccably. His dance between aggression and concupiscence is too much for you to keep up with. You don’t have time to tease his length with your tongue; he steers his cock further down your throat. You don’t bother to hide how satisfied you are by his action as you relax your throat and hollow your cheeks against the length of his snapping cock.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his hips bucking forward, he can’t stop himself from demanding more. You don’t mind; you open wider to take more of him in, and his cock thrusts further down your throat. He’s now panting, in his desperation, judging from the strangled sound he makes as you take him even deeper. “You take my cock so good, princess.”

He was doing this for you, despite everything that could happen to him after this night was done. Shouto loved you enough to tarnish his dad’s room with you. The thought makes you moan, and you wiggling trying to take him deep enough now that he must be able to feel the vibrations from your throat because that makes him hiss out another curse. He’s shaking with the effort of slamming his cock down your throat and holding the machine.

The raw, primal, and wet noises of his cock entering and leaving your throat are maniacal, added onto that is the dildo penetrating your sopping cunt again. The pressure is back, and it’s settled deep in your lower belly, and you want to cum more.

He’s underestimating you, however; you could take him in all power and length he could muster. You know that as you begin bobbing your head despite the backwardness of your position. Digging your fingernails into his ass, you silently letting him know that you’re okay, and he understands.

Shouto grunts, bending his knees as he begins to face fuck you with no remorse. It’s savage, uncontrolled, and brutal. Your choking noises music to both your ears; he doesn’t let up, only snapping his hips faster, harder, rougher. Your eyes begin to roll backward at the force, his balls slapping you in the face with every slam of energy.

But you like — you lust — the sensation of the raw and primitive fucking he was giving you, and you felt your hips rising off the bed when your walls begin to clamp against the insanely moving dildo. Yet, when you shifted higher, his hands slammed down against your hips, keeping you down, and you cry around his cock.

“Take my fucking cock like the slut you are,” he snarls, taking giant thrusts until his cock is completely buried in your throat, your nose pressed into his balls. Your tongue still revolves around the veins in his cock while you grip his ass. You choke against him, the noise music to his ears, while your legs spasm as your orgasm is hitting you.

“Y/n,” he manages to get out through gritted teeth. “Fuck, y/n. You—” He cuts himself off with another groan as the tip of his cock hits so far down your throat you feel your neck bulge.

There’s a brief moment of panic as you struggle to breathe. The force a but more than you expected, but you relax, getting yourself to calm back down. But then you inhale through your nose and force your throat to rest until you can take him all in, the oxygen burning as it made its way past his cock in your throat. Not long after that, Shouto lets out a long, loud groan when his seed shoots down your throat.

It burns, and to your horror, you find yourself unable to take the sheer force of his load and the fact that he just seemed to keep unloading within you. Uncontrollable panicked coughing and choking rattle your throat while Shouto is still balls deep in you. The second he removes his cock from your throat, you shoot up, your core throbbing, and your airway burning as cum drips out from your nose.

You continue hacking, the bitter taste of cum scorching your throat, and you continued to rub cum from your nose. It burned and hurt to breathe. Turning your head towards Shouto, who turned off the fucking machine, his eyes were locked on you already, a grin on his face while he ran a hand through his hair.

“That was hot,” Shouto rustles, running the flat of his thumb against your upper lip, smearing his cum against your skin.

“That fucking hurt!” You snap, throwing his hand off your face, a fire exploding under your skin because you were more embarrassed than anything. You enjoyed the feeling of his cum coming out of your nose, but you weren’t about to admit it!

“I don’t care,” Shouto perversely informs you, his hands taking you cheeks and twisting you towards him before his lips press against yours.

His lips are libidinous against yours, his mouth opening as he coaxed you to join him in this affair. His kiss was bruising, his teeth knocking against yours when hot and breathless puffs of air exchanged between your mouths. The heated pressure does nothing to ease the burning in your throat, only intensifying the pain while you dig your fingers into his back, leaving crescent marks and bloodied tears behind. The pain does not deter Shouto, not even a little bit. There’s an approval growl emitting from his throat and his tongue soon pressed against yours, and you resisted the sharp moan threatening to leave while his muscle danced with yours.

“Stop holding it in,” he grunts, “make everyone know that you’re being fucked.”

The next noise to escape your mouth is a loud mewl when Shouto sucks against your own tongue, his eyes ablaze while he stares down at you, victory and lust in his eyes.

“Where should I fuck you next?” He asks, his body pressing you down into the mattress, ignoring your pained hisses for your legs were still bound. His fingers dig into your breasts, pinching at the edges of your areola instead of your nipple. Your fingers dug deeper into his skin when you sob at the teasing. “How does that filthy little cunt of yours want to be ruined next?”

“In his chair!” you cry in gluttony, your body thrashing and reaming against his touch. “Fuck me in his chair, sir!”

“Look at that, maybe the slut can learn,” Shouto grins into your skin, the tracing movements salacious, and he stands. You’re weightless when Shouto scoops you from the bed, his hands supporting your tender ass. Mindlessly, your mouth nibbles against his throat, leaving purple hickies in your wake while he collects more items.

The taste of his salty sweat invades your senses, your tongue lapping, and circling against his skin while Shouto gave no attention towards your actions. He merely dumped you onto the cool leather of Endeavors desk chair, and you arched in pain.

“Now, now,” he ruthlessly grabbed the ties on your legs. He slides them off with such amoral strength your skin throbs in his wake. Your legs, finally free, slam to the ground, and you let out a fervid noise as you stare up at your boyfriend, whose stomach is taut and sheened with sweat. “I thought you liked pain.”

“You haven’t been giving me any,” you sneer, your tongue dragging against your bottom lip.

Rage fills his eyes, and he chuckles depravedly, “Okay, brat.”

Grabbing your hips, he drags you on the chair so that your ass barely remains on the cold leather. Shoving you down by your chest, the wind is knocked out of you, and you heave when he grabs onto your ankles. With a familiar tightness and the strain of having your knees under your shoulders, the spreader bar is placed behind the chairs back, keeping you trapped to the chair.

You’re folded in half, and his hand pressed onto your stomach before he began to tie your arms and thigh down. Two ties to secure your wrist into place, two ties to secure your thighs into place. The position — being placed into an ‘L’ shape — prohibited you from breathing correctly as your inflexibility flashed through your muscles.

“Oh my god,” you breathe while Shouto presses the back of the chair into the desk for additional support. Your wrists throbbed with the loss of blood circulation, and Shouto stood before you, his hand fisting himself.

“Hard to breathe?” He mocks, his cock now fully erect again.

“Make me stop breathing, pussy,” you challenge unwavering.

“God, I was hoping you’d say that,” he smirked, grabbing the top of the chair, and placing his feet by the side of the bed, he rammed himself into your cunt.

There was nothing for you to do except pathetically howl when he slammed into your cervix, your body tied so tight to the chair any other action was stopped.

“You’re so fucking tight like this,” Shouto hisses, but you could hardly tell the difference with the way he pummels his cock deep within you. Perfectly hitting the back of your wall every time.

His girth was stretching you out far more than you could seem to remember, his thrusts were urgent as they were voracious, slamming deep into you with every second, scrambling your mind with every shift. But, he didn’t gag you, and you weren’t one to give in.

“It’s because you n-never fuck me r-rIGHT!”

His left fingers slammed into your mouth, his fingers touching the back of your throat as you choked against him in your surprise. Tears watered in your eyes, and his fingers dug into your spongy muscle, making you gag even more laborious.

It already hurt to breathe, with the sensation of his cum still falling from your nose, the angle of which you were tied up, and his finger in your throat, you began to panic. Your eyes close, your throat relaxing immediately to let things be okay. But as soon as you regain your breath, you feel your core throb in how much you liked that. Tears flow down your cheeks, your eyes locked on Shouto, who’s scorching you with his sight.

“I thought you were going to tap out,” he taunts, and your tongue pushes up against his fingers, your throat humming lowly to control the insistent gag at the back of your throat. “You’re crying, and yet you’re still so defiant.”

You tilt your head up, alleviating the pressure of his fingers in your throat, and still looking like a brat.

But his cock brushes against your g-spot and your eyes nearly bug out in ecstasy for his right-hand wraps around your neck. His cock still slams into you with speed and power, the oxygen in your body being denied with his tight grip around your neck, his fingers beginning to thrust within your mouth emulating a cock, and the chair starts to squeak with every movement.

Your ass pathetically rises off the chair, a desperate attempt to move in time with his drilling cock. Both of you delirious under your overstimulation and refusal to stop until there was evidence for years that the two of you fucked in Endeavors’ room. His grip around your neck soon became bruising, where his fingertips were burned you, but you cared not. His cock was stretching you out in shameless thrill, the angle only increasing the pleasure buzzing through you. Your eyes cross over in your elation, and you splutter when his fingers leave your throat, moving to press cold and wet figure-eights onto your clit.

“Fucking take my cock,” he growls.

Your head nods, the heated pressure in your belly scorching. Your walls clamp down against his hammering cock, but it doesn’t slow him down, only encouraging him to increase his speed and strength until the chair creaked against your weight. The sopping noises of your meeting sex filled your ears, and you moaned loudly, your teeth biting down onto your lip.

It takes his cock brushing against your g-spot for your legs to slam forward, your arms nearly succeeding in destroying endeavors ties as you try sitting up as your orgasm slams through you.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” You scream hoarsely. Your scream only increases in great thrill when you feel the chair snap under the force of his fuck. But Shouto ignores it, his hips continuing to drill into you, his hand clamping tighter against your neck, cutting off your voice. Shouto isn’t done yet, after all.

His hands move to grip the exposed back of your thighs, his grip bruising your supple skin. He slams into you faster, his cock continuing unaffected by your convulsing walls. There are no other noises except your wet cunt meeting his cock, your shrieks of approval, and Shouto’s heavy breathing as he continues to drive into you. His body is giving you unreplicable sensations, and your body only making Shouto stammer and curse loudly.

His lips find yours, and there is nothing to say, the kiss is messy, more teeth than anything. Saliva passed between the two of you without care, as he chases his orgasm. His brutal pace continues, your name growled from your throat, until one last thrust and one final clamp from your cunt sends him over.

He pulls out as soon as he cums, his seed slipping down from your slit, tickling your tight ass and dripping onto the chair and the floor.

Your eyes are barely opened; you try to peer at Shouto, who is pressing his right hand to his forehead.

“You cheat,” you rasp, knowing that he had successfully cooled his body down.

He smiles at you wickedly, choosing to ignore you before walking back.

“Look at that,” Shouto whispers, bending down so that his face is level with your cunt and ass. “Can’t have anything not falling onto Endeavors things getting out of you…”

His finger pushes his cum back into your sore cunt, and you sharply breath when he pats your cunt.

“You want me to have your babies,” you tease, and he remains silent, dragging his fingers down the center of your pussy. His breathing teases your sensitive flesh, and you feel yourself clench when he pulls his fingers lower than where he usually goes. Soon, his fingers trace around your puckered asshole.

“S-Sir,” you pant, your chest rising as far up as you could in this position, and your eyes widened when he looked up at you.

“Have you ever wanted to try anal?”

Your mouth drops when the pad of his finger teases your other entrance, and your thighs shook while you remained silent.

His opposite hand struck your ass sharply, your body thrashing as it stung against your unprepared skin.

“Answer me.”

“Y-Yes!”

“Yes, what?!”

“I want your cock in my ass!”

Your boyfriend’s quirk did not involve speed; in fact, without his quirk, he was not that fast. Sure he was athletic and adequately trained, but in comparison to those on the Hero field, if you took away quirk usage, he was barely above average. But there were times that you believed he was incredibly fast, and this was one of those moments.

You found your face, chest, and knees buried back into the mattress, your back arched so much you swore you would need a spine replacement after this, and the ties and spreader bar were gone.

His fingers slide between your folds, lathering in your essence. A low groan left your lips at the feeling, and you quivered when Shouto’s hands spread your ass cheeks.

“B-Be gentle,” you whimper when he presses the pad of his forefinger against your pert hole. Your ass tightened instinctively, and Shouto huffed but pressed his finger in. A weird full pain shot through you when the tip of his finger entered your rectum, your ass squeezing against his finger, trying to deny him entrance.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, his other hand massaging your ass cheek, trying to calm your instincts to let him in.

Your fingers dig into the comforter, the still wet fabric from your multiple orgasms was cold under your heated fingers. But something cold splashed against your ass, and you shook, demanding to know what it was.

“Lube,” he answers, a smirk evident in his tone as his fingers leave your asshole. A soft groan exhales from your breath at him exiting your ass, and soon enough, his finger returns to your puckered tight hole. The feeling of his fingers pushing in you to his first knuckles sends your ass flying backward toward him, a desperate and idiotic way of getting him further in.

It was a weird feeling, almost reminiscent to the first time you had sex, only completely different. It made your head spin in a frenzied way and felt backward but in a way where you needed more.

“You like this,” he laughs, his lips pressing against your spine. Your head nods, you’re unable to speak as his fingers push into you and pull back out. It’s a slow and chilling movement that fills your asshole and makes you dizzy.

“Shit,” you breathe, your body rattling, your ass rolling against his fingers.

“Are you ready for my cock, whore?” He asks, and you whine in response. His hand grips your ass, and his finger curls within you. You loudly call out his name, feeling your body turning weak as you lay there, a slave to his manipulation. His manipulation of your ass sends warm liquid falling down your thighs, shining against your skin as his hand smacks your inner thigh, and he relishes in your high pitched squeal. “You finally cave to anal when I’m fucking you here. Is this what you wanted all along?”

Your eyes clamp shut as his fingers exit your ass, and you only manage a panting groan in response. There’s a soft ripping noise before a package hits your face.

Your eyes open to see a condom package sitting by your face, its empty, and you shift your head to stare at Shouto who’s unraveling the condom on his cock.

“You haven’t used those in a while,” you remark snidely, your eyes glowing with amusement as he locks onto you, his eyes rolling.

“I remember a certain someone begging for me to put it in her raw,” he smoothly states, lube in his hands now, and he applies a lot on the smooth condom. “Besides, you want my cock up your ass, you don’t get to play that card right now.”

“Yeah, well — oHMY GOD!”

Shouto, without warning, presses the head of his cock within your asshole. It stretches you out disgustingly, sharp pain throbbing in your ass and cunt as he settles within you. Despite his cock halfway buried within your ass, it’s your pussy that weeps. Your slick runs rampant down your inner thigh, falling onto the bed top. Shouto’s fingers dig into your waist, the both of you breathing heavy at this new feeling.

Slowly, his fingers move to your breast and your nipples, and with the smallest nod from you, he begins.

In and out, he moves, his hips moving faster than a manageable speed, and your eyes welled with tears at the constipated feeling in your asshole. His fingers tweak and pull at your clit and nipple, savagely teasing them, uncaring that your cries left drooling puddles on the bed. His thrusting movements became quicker, harder, and more solid until a familiar sensation of his balls slapping your skin burned your mind.

“More,” you beg against the sheets, drool coating your cheek, your body nothing more than his fuck toy. “Fuck my asshole harder.”

Shouto merely growls, the pinch on your clit, making your hips buck against his cock, and he began to barbarically slam into you. It was as if it was your pussy and not your ass he was drilling into.

Your body shifts with his every movement, your slick pouring from your cunt, and he let go of your nipple. In your crazed state, you sob at the loss of contact, but his hand strikes against your soaked cunt with a loud sound. The force alone nearly sends your eyes flying open, your vision blurring when his finger dive into your sex.

His fingers work at double the speed of which his hips slam into you. His fingers pushing the limits of your velvet walls; he curls his fingers against your walls, dragging them deliciously against your clenching heat. Then there was his cock, and at times the thin walls that separated his fingers and his cock brushed together, sending you into a new frenzy while you sobbed his name.

Begging for more, begging to come.

“You already need to come?!” He snaps, his hips not at all weak, and you moaned loudly, knowing that he was nowhere close. “Then come you, filthy bitch, I just started, and you need to come!”

“I-It feels so fucking good,” you garble, your jaw unable to move for its slack against the mattress, electrifying pleasure singing your nerves, and with a loud smack to your pussy, you come hard against his fingers, splashing against the bed top.

There’s no time wasted; Shouto pulls himself from your ass and shoves you onto your back again. There’s no fightback, no attitude, from you. Without being forced to, your legs are brought to your chest while Shouto discards the condom onto the bed.

“Aren’t you so fucking enthusiastic, getting all ready for me without asking,” Shouto grins, his hands grabbing your legs right below your ankle. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you right now?”

“Y-You’re going to fill me up with your cum,” you stammer for he pushes your legs slowly towards you, the stretch in your muscles overwhelming for your sore body. “You’re going to give me your babies.”

“What else?” He taunts, the top of his cock rubbing against your clit.

“B-Breed me like the bitch I am, sir!” Your cry, wanting nothing more than his cock to bury all nine inches in you.

“Come for me one more time, and I’ll make sure to fill you until you’re dripping with my semen for an entire week,” Shouto promises, and his hips slam within you.

Your knees are buried within the mattress by your head, your feet curling and pressing against each other. Shouto lays on top of you, the penetration deep, and his hands gripping yours. The weight of having him on you is exhilarating, and for the first time this night, his lips press hungrily against yours while ball deep within you.

His cock slams against the wall of your cervix repetitively while his lips overwhelm you. Each slam into you is massive and powerful. Powerful enough to have you sobbing into his mouth while he kisses you, his hands clutching your smaller ones in his.

Again and again, he slams into you. His thrusts knocking the wind out of you until you release his hands and find yourself digging your fingers into his back, crying out his name desperately while his teeth find a home on your neck, sinking into flesh he had long ago broke. The powerful pounding of his cock makes you keen, your hips jerking up to meet his, but you’re useless against his downward thrusts.

“Impregnate me, sir,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, “breed me, please!”

“You’ll be full of my fucking kids in no time, your cute belly will be round with my kid,” he snaps, his cock throbbing within your pussy, and loud echoing slaps fill the room. Your nails claw at his back, marking him in multiple places with clean four red lines.

You couldn’t take the feeling of how his body moved perfectly within you, the strength and power behind his every move were almost too natural as if this was an everyday thing. You let out noises reasonably similar to a purr, grinding your cunt against his conquesting cock and laughing breathlessly at his low groan.

“You like this, whore?” Shouto nips at your throat, his thrusts making you shriek out his name as he buries you further into the bed, your nails digging into his flesh. “You like the way my cock fills your pussy the same way it did that pretty little ass?” You nod rapidly, your eyes closed, your mouth open, your pants tumbling from your mouth. Your sanity was lying on a string, his actions the reasons for your downfall.

His leverage was small, but every thrust seemed to have his cock being pulled out of you nearly completely. Before he drilled back into your pussy. The noises of your connecting wet sex left loud echo with your squelching pussy around his hot cock.

The muscles on his back seemed to flare dramatically, your screams turning silent due to your approval of this.

“You like the way I fuck your pussy? The way that I’ll fill you with my seed for days to come?” he growls into your ear, his hips inhumanly slamming into you.

“I need you to breed me,” you sob, the fire in your face as bright and hot as the one between your legs. His sweaty forehead pressed against yours, and his lips recapture yours.

Your mind goes blank when a mighty crash goes through you. But Shouto must not have felt the familiar spastic clamping of your inner walls as he continues pistoling his hips into you, hitting your cervix, and pushing it further up with every slam. You cry against his mouth, your hands shoving at his shoulders as the feeling of your orgasm was too strong to deny, and he slips out of you.

You squirt wildly, your juices going everywhere, wetting his groin area, and splashing against the bed.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he growls, and once again slams into you.

Your scream is silent, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your fingers digging into his neck, and your toes curl. His hips are driving, persistent, and have a goal in mind. You can barely keep up with him, your long overstimulated body wanting to collapse at the seams, but he doesn’t stop.

The bed creaks loudly under you, headboard crashing into the wall, over and over again.

“Cum, sir,” you beg, your hips wildly thrashing against his. “Please, fill me with your seed!”

That’s all it takes, and a hot and heavy load shoots through you, and Shouto collapses onto you at the same time the bed falls. Neither one of you reacts as gravity shifts you both slightly downwards, but your mind is too full of Shouto to care. His body twitching while his cock remains hard within you, the feeling of his cum swimming in your cunt, making your head spin with euphoria.

Drowsiness hits you quickly, and Shouto’s body heat is quickly putting you to sleep.

He pulls out of you gently, and the feeling of his cock no longer in you makes you whimper, your nose burying into his neck as he flips the two of you over so that you’re laying on his chest. His hands send warm and cooling waves through your body, helping soothe the aches in your tired body.

Who knew Endeavor was the key to making Shouto lose control. Maybe you needed to get him to fuck you on this bed more often now.

You can feel the cum seeping from your cunt, and Shouto must have too, for he scooped it back in with his fingers, and you chuckled at the feeling of his warm fingers against your seizing cunt. This was nice, you loved this.

“I didn’t go too overboard, did I?” He asks, his voice small given that he saw the blood that trailed down your neck and the raised handprints on your ass.

“No,” you say, your hands running down his muscled sides. “Not at all, I really enjoyed this, sir.”

Your words are teasing, and the two of you chuckle as silence overtakes the two of you.

“I love you, y/n,” he whispers, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“I love you, too, Shouto,” you mumble, your eyes fluttering closed, sleep consuming you.

You don’t remember anything else, only that you woke up the next morning in your bed, your body is strewn with purple bruises, red hickies, and handprints on your body, wearing nothing but Shouto’s shirt and your panties.

“Good morning beautiful,” his voice greets you, and you sigh, soreness rampaging your body.

“Good morning, my love.”

Bonus!

Endeavor walked into his house at three in the morning, the strains of a late night at work had truly exhausted him.

Shouto, who he had asked to take care of his house for only two hours had stayed much later. His son had informed him that he left ten minutes before he arrived. It was too bad, Endeavor thought, he wasn’t able to get back on time to see his son and girlfriend. Tossing his case to the floor, Endeavor was ready for bed.

Trudging through his house, he was quick to realize how humid the house was when he neared his room. His eyebrows scrunched, his attention on alert as he threw open the door, the lights and fan turned on by mistake.

CRASH!

Endeavors’ eyes widened at the sight of the cum-stained bed, the ruined sheets, the slanted chair, and his bed being held together by ice. His eyes locked on the fan blade that fell from its place; it was cracked entirely in the middle. There was no denying that his room was wholly and disgustingly used, and for what?! His stupid kid didn’t ever need to stay!

“SHOUTOOOOOO!”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shouto #bnha x reader #bnha todoroki #mha x reader #todoroki smut

15K notes · View notes

nanatsumu · 3 years

Text

TEENAGE FEVER.

pairing: iwaizumi hajime x f!reader, oikawa tooru x f!reader

synopsis: iwaizumi has strung you on long enough and you’re finally at the end of your rope.

genre: heavy angst... like make your heart wrench in pain heavy, one sided pining

warnings: manga spoilers, bad grammar (didn’t know it was that bad until i used grammarly), MATURE themes, drinking, smoking, alcohol, iwaizumi being an asshole (he’s also a frat boy because surprise! frat boys should never be trusted), subtle hints at sex, bittersweet ending

word count: 5.9K

series masterlist

part one | part two | part three | part four

it was evident in the way you weren’t sure how to sway your hips to the beat of the music and the way you awkwardly isolated yourself in a quiet corner of the house, sipping on some soda (since you did not want your first frat party experience to end up with you wasted and throwing up on some stranger) that you were definitely not accustomed to the party life.

“are you sure you’ll be fine by yourself y/n?” your roommate asked you with a concerned look on her face.

“i’ll be fine reina,” you give her a tight-lipped smile as you gesture to the phone in your hand. “i’ll just sit here and chill on my phone until you get back.”

“okay okay, i’ll quit babying you now,” she throws her hands up in the air. “call me if some dude tries to hit on you though.”

“will do, but i doubt with how loud the music is that you’ll even answer,” you playfully roll your eyes as she erupts in a fit of laughter.

the brunette pats the back pocket of her jeans where her phone currently resides at.

“even if i don’t hear it, i’ll feel it.”

it becomes quiet momentarily (besides what you assume is i love it by dean blaring in the background) until she starts to looks around warily before leaning in and whispering something into your ear.

“if a hajime iwaizumi tries to talk to you, try to find a way to get out of the conversation,” she pauses for a moment before continuing. “that guy is seriously bad news.”

“y-yeah, i’ll... do that.” you hear her let out a sigh of relief as she straightens up her posture.

it’s hard to hear what she’s saying from there on out, especially with how obnoxiously loud the music has gotten, but you manage to catch the words ‘friends’ and ‘beer pong’ before she slips away amongst the sea of students and you’re left sitting alone on a couch by yourself with only your phone as entertainment.

you had recently moved to california from japan on an academic scholarship for uci, so when you heard reina mention the name ‘iwaizumi hajime’ it sparked a sense of familiarity within you and piqued your curiosity as to if he was also a foreigner studying abroad.

you’ve only been living in the states for a month now which meant you were still getting used to the strange lifestyle here, so the thought of being friends with someone you could potentially relate to had always been swimming in the back of your mind.

“so what’s a pretty girl like you doing here all by yourself?”

a voice snaps you out of your thoughts as you let out a small shriek and the next thing you know, your phone flies out of your hand, hitting the person that just sat down next to you.

“ow!” he cries as he clutches his forehead in pain.

“shit! i’m sorry dude!” at this point you’re scrambling around, not sure where to put your hands as you wave them around haphazardly.

“you know, it’s not nice to throw your phone at someone who's trying to make conversation with you right?” the stranger says in a whiny tone as he switches over to rubbing the red spot forming on his forehead in an attempt to soothe the pain.

“and you know it’s not nice to sneak up on a girl if she’s alone right?” you scoff. “where the hell did you even come from?”

“my mom’s vagina.”

“i didn’t mean literally!” you growl.

he shrugs before making himself comfortable by resting his arms on top of the couch and spreads his long legs.

“y’know, i don’t appreciate you manspreading and i especially don’t appreciate the fact that you’re confident enough to do so when i have no idea who you are.” you grimace.

“the name is oikawa tooru, introduction over,” he gives you a lopsided grin. “but you can call me tooru if you’d like, apparently everyone calls each other by their first names here in the states.”

“japanese?”

“yeah, but i’m not a student here,” he places two fingers on your cheek and gently pushes your head in the direction of the kitchen where you see some people conversing with each other. “you see the guy in the denim jacket with the piercings?”

your eyes wander around until you spot a boy sporting a denim jacket with piercings, just as oikawa described, but you also take note of how oikawa failed to mention that his friend was absolutely breathtaking: he didn’t have a chiseled face but he did have a nice jawline, his hair was spiky but it was styled properly, but what stood out to you the most was the small patch of permanent ink on his wrist.

and it’s as if the heavens were on your side tonight because just as you were thinking about whether or not the tattoo on his wrist branched into something bigger and more complex, he slips off his denim jacket and the sleeveless t-shirt he had on underneath allowed you to see that his entire arm was covered in numerous quantities of tattoos varying in design and color that blended together seamlessly.

“he’s the one that snuck me in,” he leans in closer to your ear and you can practically feel his hot breath on the shell of your ear which makes you shiver. “it’s funny how much college can change a guy, huh?”

he continues.

“his demeanor back in high school wasn’t too different from how it is now, but it like... intensified after he moved here,” oikawa throws his body back and you’re relieved that he finally put some distance between you two because you weren’t sure how much longer you could take him being so close to you. “dumbass probably got caught up in the wrong crowd.”

“and what are you doing here?” you direct your attention back onto the chocolate-haired boy.

“me? i play for a volleyball team in argentina but i’m just visiting iwaizumi.”

your jaw drops and it’s not at the fact that he plays for argentina, but at the way he says it so indifferently like it’s not a big deal at all.

“wait, what the hell!?” you shake your head and take a moment to recollect your thoughts. “i thought you were a student at another school but you’re telling me you don’t even go to school at all?”

“yup!” he grins. “the season just ended and with the free time i have now i just decided to fly here and visit iwaizumi for a bit, y’know, see how well he's adjusting to the university life.”

“and you should’ve seen the look on my face when i saw him for the first time in 4 years and all of a sudden he has an arm full of tattoos and a shit load of piercings.”

“wait, did you just say iwaizumi?”

“hm? yeah, iwaizumi hajime? you know him? i heard he’s pretty popular around here, but i’m pretty sure it’s for all the wrong reasons though.”

“my friend told me he was bad news...” you say sheepishly.

it’s silent for a moment and you’re worried you might have said something wrong or offended your new friend (could you two even be considered friends? i mean he did pop out of nowhere and started talking to you) but your worries are all washed away when you hear a laugh escape his lips.

“i wouldn’t say he’s bad news, just rough around the edges and has a bad habit of hooking up with girls.”

“you know i don’t appreciate you bad mouthing me behind my back shittykawa.”

a deep voice startles both you and oikawa, and when you turn around to see who the owner of the voice was, your mouth grows dry when you realize it’s the iwaizumi hajime standing right behind you.

“iwaizumi!” oikawa stands up and walks over to the spiky-haired male standing behind the couch before slinging an arm around his shoulder. “i was just making small talk with...”

“y/n. l/n y/n.”

“y/n! a pretty name for a pretty girl,” oikawa winks at you and you roll your eyes at his shamelessness. “anyways i’m gonna and grab a drink.”

oikawa pats iwaizumi on the back before sauntering away, leaving you and iwaizumi to be alone together.

“so, y/n?” his gaze is intense and you can’t help but shift around uncomfortably in your seat at the way he’s borderline checking you out. “you’re not from around here are you?”

“uh yeah,” you scratch the back of your head. “i’m from japan but i recently moved here for university.”

“is that so?” you flinch subtly when iwaizumi plops down next to you but it doesn’t go unnoticed by the male. “relax y/n, i don’t bite.”

his voice is velvety with the right amount of gruffness to it, contrary to his friend, oikawa, whose voice is a bit higher and on the whinier side.

“so... what are you majoring in, iwaizumi?” you ask, attempting to make some sort of small talk with him.

“i’m majoring in sports science, what about you?”

“education,” you answer, suddenly feeling a bit less tense than you were earlier. “i wanna become a teacher, but probably just for primary school, middle schoolers and high schoolers scare me.”

iwaizumi laughs.

“and primary schoolers don’t? i have a little sister and she’s literally the devil incarnate.”

you giggle and you think about how easy it is to converse with iwaizumi, but the warning reina gave you earlier still lingers in the back of your head and so you’re careful not to let your guard down too much.

“so how are you liking california so far? it’s different from japan isn’t it?” he asks.

“well, it’s... different i’ll give you that,” you start playing with your bottom lip subconsciously as it’s a habit that you picked up back in high school. “but my roommate is nice at least and that’s the only that matters to me.”

“i’m also planning on moving back to japan in the future but it’ll only be after i finish university and get my bachelor's degree or something,” you continue.

“taking an internship doesn’t seem too bad either? it’s still a while before i graduate so i wanna try and enjoy my university life before i get into thrown into the real world because i don’t wanna be old and wrinkly and live with regrets— i’m rambling now aren’t i?”

“you’re alright,” iwaizumi smiles. “it’s honestly like a breath of fresh air hearing how you have your life planned out, or at least you have a plan on what you want to do with your life because most of the girls i’ve met or i’m friends with are either undecided or are all about ‘living in the moment’ and while being undecided or having that type of mindset isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it just gets repetitive sometimes being surrounded by the same type of people.”

“but you— you’re different from them, i like that.”

you can feel your cheeks starts to heat up and iwaizumi is amused by how you can get so flustered over such a simple compliment.

“thanks... i guess?” you compose yourself and try to cool yourself down by putting your hands on your cheeks.

“so what are you doing here at this party? you don’t strike me as a party animal.”

“because i’m not,” you chuckle. “my roommate dragged me here and i only said yes because i was told it was only gonna be a small get-together, though she didn’t mention anything about the booming music and the alcohol.”

“you a lightweight or something?” he cocks an eyebrow.

“i’m 19, actually, so still not legally allowed to drink,” you state as a matter-of-fact.

“so? i was 19 when i drank for the first time,” he says and you’re alarmed at how he can say it so casually.

“ha, no thanks, i’d rather not accidentally get wasted and throw up on someone later tonight.”

“well, i’ll make sure that you don’t throw up on anybody then,” he stands up and extends his hand out for you to take. “why don’t you come along with me and i’ll fix you up a drink?”

you look at his hand with a wary look in your eyes as reina’s words start to play in your head like a broken record.

‘that guy is seriously bad news.’

“so what do you say, y/n?”

you stare into his brown eyes and it’s almost as if he injected curiosity straight into your veins because the next thing you know, you’re sitting on the counter with iwaizumi standing in between your legs as he’s pouring a bottle of bailey’s irish creme into a tumbler glass for you.

“this is probably the best option for you besides white claw but i’m sure as hell not gonna have you drink that shit especially when it’s your first time,” he sets the almost empty bottle on the counter behind him before handing you the glass, which you reluctantly take. “and i’m not gonna be an asshole and give you spirytus.”

you inspect the liquid by bringing the glass up closer to your eyes and whirling it around a few times in a way that is similar to that of a kid inspecting their halloween candy for poison or blades and it elicits a snicker out of iwaizumi.

“i don’t know... i told my mom i’d move to california to study and be a teacher, not go to parties and practice underage drinking.” you deadpan which only further humors the male in front of you.

“and i told my mom i’d move to california to study sports science, not pierce my ears and get my entire arm tattooed,” he says and you assume that this is his way of trying to coax you into drinking the glass of whiskey in your hands. “i’m sure a little bit of alcohol won’t hurt and i promise you’re not gonna get wasted, take a lick for all i care.”

“fine, but if i accidentally puke all over someone’s shoes then i’m counting on you to pay for dry cleaning.” you say before bringing the glass up to your lips and taking a tiny sip— and to your surprise, it wasn’t that bad.

the taste of whiskey wasn’t overbearing as the taste of cocoa and vanilla overpowered it, but you weren’t complaining as it made it easier for the drink to slide down your throat without you feeling the need to scrunch up your face in distaste.

“not bad right?” iwaizumi smirks and it immediately triggers your fight or flight.

“i haven’t even said anything yet.” you roll your eyes.

“well? what do you think then?”

his hand brushes up against your thigh as he goes to settle them on either side of you, effectively trapping you on top of the counter.

“i-it’s not bad i guess...” your words trail off at the end as you allow your eyes to wander away elsewhere in an attempt to distract yourself from how intimate this position feels.

“y/n,” you turn your attention back towards iwaizumi and your eyes widen at the close proximity between you two. “do you use any lip products?”

“just lip... gloss...” your breath hitches when you notice that he‘s starting to lean in closer as his eyes travel down to your parted lips.

but before he gets a chance to put his hands on you, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket as realization also seems to hit iwaizumi at the same time and he immediately jerks away.

“uh, i think my roommates calling me,” you jump off the counter and dig into the pockets of your shorts so that you can retrieve your buzzing phone. “i’ll see you around campus?”

“yeah, see you around.”

he watches as you head for the exit and once you’re out of sight, he leans against the counter you were just sitting on a minute ago and lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“that was so lame of you iwa-chan.”

he turns his head towards the direction of where the voice came from and sees oikawa striding into the kitchen.

“you totally got her wrapped around your finger, don’t you?” oikawa states as iwaizumi chuckles.

“fuck yeah i do,” he brings his hand up for a handshake. “i can’t believe she fell for my ‘you’re different from other girls’ speech.”

“and i usually never go for freshmen since they’re always so damn annoying but y/n... she’s gonna be a fun one to play with.” he adds.

“you’re a real douchebag.” oikawa says as he downs the rest of whatever is in his cup before discarding it into the nearest trash can.

“hey, if i’m gonna move back to japan soon then might as well make the most of the time i have left here, right?” iwaizumi defends himself.

“spoken like a true jackass.” the chocolate-haired male snorts.

“whatever,” iwaizumi rolls his eyes as he runs a hand through his hair. “i’m leaving in less than a month and a half so i’ll hit it and quit it.”

“that phrase is so corny, why not ‘bust a load and hit the road’?” oikawa suggests.

“i am not having this conversation with you right now.” iwaizumi irks before walking out of the kitchen with a mopey oikawa hot on his trail.

“so rude!”

it’s been almost a week now since your encounter with iwaizumi and you have yet to see him around campus. well, it was inevitable as he was all the way on the other side of the school, but deep down you wished you could at least run into him during the course of your week.

you briefly remember reina giving you an earful once you got back to the dorms because you had explained to her the minute you two got back that you met iwaizumi hajime at the party and even met one of his friends.

“y/n, didn’t i tell you that you should stay away from that guy?”

“but he seemed like a really nice guy to me...” you started fiddling with your fingers.

“that’s what he wants you to think, y/n,” she takes a seat next to you on your bed and wraps an arm around your shoulder, patting it soothingly. “i just— you’re new here and from the moment you stepped foot in our dorm i knew immediately that you’re gonna live a successful life and the last thing i want happening is for some college playboy to break your heart and ruin your life.”

your heart couldn’t help but grow fuzzy at her words.

“trust me, if this were any other guy then i wouldn’t mind you talking to them, but hajime is notorious for breaking hearts and ruining lives,” she puts her arms behind her back and uses them to support her body as she leans back. “there was this girl back in my freshman year, half japanese half white, her name was kaori, and i’ve never cared to keep track of any of hajime’s flings but she was the most serious case.”

“hajime and her met the same way you and him did, at a party, and he chatted her up until she eventually gave into those pretty boy charms of his and they started going out. the first few weeks were fine and the entire campus was raving about how this was one of hajime’s longest standing relationships yet and they seemed to be at a good spot in their relationship. but it wasn’t until one day, photos of her nudes were plastered all over the entire school and someone in hajime’s friend group ratted him out and said that he was the one who started sending the photos. obviously the school found out but they couldn’t get enough evidence that hajime was the one who sent her nudes around but since they had to do something, they decided to suspend kaori instead for ‘distribution of explicit content’ and the whole school started flooding her dms with death throats and she was labeled ‘the whore of uci.’ i think she eventually got tired of everything because she disappeared from the school without a trace, like completely disappeared. all her socials were deleted and she deleted her number so no one could contact her at all.”

after reina finished the entire story, you were remembered speechless. sure iwaizumi was a bit on the flirtier side and didn’t hesitate to test the waters, but that didn’t mean that he was completely shameless and disrespected your boundaries. you had a gut feeling that underneath that tough facade of his was a boy who was a normal college student like everybody else and had a goal in mind that he wanted to achieve, but after hearing reina’s story you weren’t sure what to think anymore.

“that poor little thing, she was such a sweet girl and it’s such a shame that she just had to go and get involved with hajime. if she still went here then i’m sure you and her would’ve gotten along,” reina adds. “she kind of reminds me of you in a way, you have this innocence to you that can’t be replicated yet you actually have a spine unlike those girls that throw themselves at hajime. tsk, how shameless of them, throwing yourself at a boy who’s known for tossing girls to the side once he’s down with them.”

needless to say, after that long conversation you had with reina, you’ve started to become more wary of the boy, but an unknown force keeps pulling you back to him.

reina had invited you to another party this weekend and while you were a bit reluctant about accepting her invitation, you thought that this might be your chance at ever seeing iwaizumi again so with your one track mind, you accept her offer without a second thought which now leads you to present time.

you feel a wave of deja vu wash over you as sweater weather blasts from the speakers and you can feel the heavy bass shake up the entire house.

you and reina struggle to nagivate through the crowd all while trying to avoid the couples making out in order to get upstairs where her friends had texted her to meet and you’re glad you’ve gained enough confidence to give her the green light when she asked if you wanted to meet her friends because you’re not sure how much more your eardrums could take.

“it’s right here!” reina knocks on the door three times and just when she’s about to go in for the fourth knock, the door swings open, revealing an all too familiar chocolate-haired male.

“y/n!” he exclaims as he throws his arms around you and reina just barely manages to dodge his long arms.

“hey! you almost hit my fuckin’ face you douche!” she cries. “and who the hell are you? i’ve never seen you around before.”

“oikawa, you’re still here?” your voice is muffled by his chest and you have to muster up all of the strength you have to pry him off of you.

“baby, you’re gonna be seeing me around for a whole month!” you and reina give each other a blank stare.

“first of all, don’t call me baby,” you duck down and it proves successful in getting out of his hold. “and secondly, what are you doing here?”

oikawa pouts at the lack of contact but continues the conversation nonetheless.

“iwaizumi snuck me in again and i’m staying at his place for now so wherever he goes, i tag along,” he points behind him as you and reina peer inside the room. “so what are you guys here for?”

“well my friends told me to meet me here, but it seems like they’re fraternizing with the enemy.” reina scrunches her nose up in disgust and you catch a glimpse of iwaizumi with his arm wrapped around a blonde girl’s shoulder.

“well iwaizumi’s friends are friends of mine and since your friends are iwaizumi’s friends then you’re my friend as well!” oikawa proclaims as he throws his arms around both you and reina this time and pulls you guys in for a side hug.

“let’s head in!” he pulls you guys into the room, not forgetting to lock the door as it shuts behind him.

iwaizumi notices you and you give him a small smile before taking a seat next to reina, oikawa following suit as he sits next to you as well.

“hajime.” reina greets him with a curt nod.

“reina... nice to see you,” iwaizumi says briefly.

“so who’s up for a game of seven minutes of heaven?” the girl who’s in iwaizumi’s arms proposes.

“c’mon! seven minutes in heaven? really? we’re in college now, let’s do something a little more daring!” a boy with black hair shouts.

“fine, let’s play strip poker then!” you hear someone suggest.

all of the girls in the room groan.

“pervert, you just wanna play it so that you can see us in our undergarments.”

“isn’t that the point of the game though?”

“i don’t even know how to play poker.”

“is this your second time at a party?” oikawa leans in and whispers into your ear, not wanting to put all of the attention on your conversation.

“yeah, i wasn’t planning on going in the first place but reina managed to convince me.” you lied straight through your teeth, not wanting to spare the embarrassment of telling oikawa the real reason why you came to the party.

“oh really? what would have you done all by yourself on this fine friday night if you stayed back at the dorms by yourself then?” he questions.

“probably head to the cafe thats off campus and try their new milk bread,” you say bluntly.

“milk bread?” you turn your head a bit and see oikawa trying to stifle a laugh.

you slap his thigh which prompts him to yelp.

“what’s so funny idiot?”

“n-nothing! it’s just... i like milk bread too.”

“really?” your eyes sparkle and oikawa can’t stop the genuine smile that forces its way onto his face. “do you wanna come with me tomorrow to try it then? i was gonna ask reina but she’s going on a blind date or something tomorrow and i don’t wanna bother her.”

“sure, but why me?”

“well i don’t know anybody else here, and you’re technically like my friend right?”

“what makes you think we’re friends?” he says but quickly comes to the realization that it sounded a lot more heartless than he had intended it to.

“sorry that came off rude...” he sheepishly scratches his neck.

“no i get what you were trying to say, but i mean, i consider you my friend so isn’t that enough?”

“geez quit flirting you two!” reina groans as she pushes you and out of reflex, oikawa immediately latches onto your arms so that you don’t accidentally bump heads with him.

“we’re not flirting,” you roll your eyes before muttering a small ‘thank you’ to oikawa after he releases you. “i’m just inviting him out to that cafe that i’ve been telling you about since you’re too busy going on that blind date.”

“hey hey hey! you were to keep quiet about that y/n!” reina loudly whispers as everyone else in the room roars in laughter.

“oops! sorry reina!” you snicker behind your hand.

“oh you’re so gonna get it!” she tackles you onto the floor. “oikawa, hold her down!”

you feel an extra set of hands put your arms down as reina uses her legs to pin your legs down.

“w-wait! oikawa i thought we were friends! don’t—” your words are suddenly cut off and you begin to break into a fit of laughter as reina commences her tickle assault on you.

“f-f..fuck o— AHAHAHAHA..... FUCK OFF R-REINA!” you manage to say in between breaks.

after what feels like minutes of torture, reina finally lets up and you’re free from the shackles that is her and oikawa.

“you’re a traitor oikawa!” you cry as you sit back up, massaging your shoulders to release the tension that had built up in them within a span of 30 seconds.

the said male flat out ignores you though as he turns to face the rest of the group.

“any-who, who’s up for a game of spin the bottle?”

“that’s lame.” iwaizumi finally speaks up.

“you’re lame! don’t make me tell everyone what went down last friday when—” oikawa is about to continue his sentence when iwaizumi suddenly sends him a cold glare that shuts him up.

“scary!” oikawa wraps his arms around you for what seems to be the umpteenth time tonight. “save me y/n!”

you roll your eyes.

“you’re awfully touchy with someone who you’ve only known for a week yet only met twice,” you complain but don’t make an effort to shy away from his touch.

“but we’re friends right? you even said so yourself!” he smirks at the face you make when you come upon the realization that he’s used your own words against you.

“whatever, do what you like,” you mumble against his arms. “i seriously envy your ability to get along with people easily.”

iwaizumi lets out a low growl as he witnesses the scene in front of him unfold. he wasn’t going to let oikawa get to you first when he clearly had his sights set on you from the moment you stepped foot into that party last friday.

he was going to be the first man to make a move on you and what better way to do so than a game of spin the bottle?

“how about,” iwaizumi picks up the half-empty bottle of beer next to him as he downs the rest of the contents inside before placing it flat on the floor in the middle of the room. “a game of spin the bottle?”

“and you think seven minutes of heaven is lame?” oikawa scoffs. “didn’t lara jean play it in middle school in that one flashback in to all the boys i’ve loved before?”

“you watched to all the boys i've loved before?” you ask oikawa.

“hell yeah i did!” he grins. “iwaizumi told me it’s corny but can’t a guy love his chick flicks?”

“you’re so lame!” you giggle, even though you too had watched it.

“have you seen the second movie?” he asks as you two begin to go off-topic again.

“no i haven’t, i heard it was bad so i just never bothered to watch it.” you shrug.

“dude we should watch it together then!” he suggests.

“and if it’s bad then i’m gonna kick you out of my dorm.” you snort.

the black-haired male from earlier clears his throat which prompts you and oikawa to stop talking.

“first of all, oikawa, y/n, get a room, and secondly, let’s play spin the bottle!” he yells.

the first few minutes of the game were boring and the matchups were weird, to say the least: reina had to kiss the blonde girl (you found out her name was genevieve), the black-haired boy (kevin) had to kiss some girl who you recognized was from your seminar class, and then when it came to be oikawa’s turn, the bottle landed on him so he just ended up kissing himself through a mirror out of his own free will (trust me, no one there wanted to see that happen and no one could stop him even if they tried.)

there were about 12 people in the room, 13 including you, and out of everyone there the one person who you would definitely not want to kiss.

iwaizumi.

it wasn’t like you despised him or anything, but after hearing about him from reina along with the girl who had been sitting in his lap this entire night, you really did not want to deal with a target on your back and an enemy acquired within your first month of living in the states.

so when it came down to your turn, you were silently praying to the gods that it would land on anybody but iwaizumi— heck even oikawa would be a better option.

but it seems like lady luck had her smile turned away from you because as the bottle began to slow down, a symbol of your fate being sealed in this very room, it had landed on the one person you did not want it to land on at all.

“y/n, you have to kiss hajime!”

the whole room went silent.

“what?!” genevieve shrieks and the ringing in your ears lingers around for longer than you’d expected. “i am not letting some... freak! kiss hajime!”

“genevieve, y/n is not a freak,” reina defends you, oikawa following up with a ‘yeah! she’s not a freak!’ as well. “you literally just met her and you’re just mad you don’t get to kiss him.”

“and while i’m not too... happy with this either, rules are rules.” the brunette continues as she sends a disapproving look iwaizumi’s way.

“well, pucker up buttercup,” iwaizumi picks genevieve up off his lap and scoots over to you. “i’m about to make it up to you for last week.”

he leans in closer and you shut your eyes, preparing for whatever is about to come next.

his lips are soft in a way, and what’s supposed to be a quick smooch turns into a full-blown make-out session as he starts to deepen the kiss by holding you from the back of your head, tangling his hand within your hair, and tilting his head to the side for more leeway.

you try to push him away but it proves to little avail as the grip he has on your waist with his other arm is too strong. your hands mindlessly find purchase in his brown locks as his tongue swipes along your bottom lip, asking for entrance. at first, you’re hesitant, but when you open your eyes and you see him staring into your e/c orbs with that alluring look in them, you can’t help but part your lips just the tiniest amount as if to test the waters, but it proves to be more than enough room for iwaizumi to easily slip his tongue into your oral cavity, turning the kiss into battle for dominance.

he tastes like a mix of beer and mint, a strange combination but he makes it work somehow.

the hand he had on your waist trails further downwards and finds a resting spot on your thigh and you can’t help but let out a small moan at the way he starts to rub the sensitive part of your thigh as his hand inches dangerously closer and closer to your core.

it’s only when you start to hear whistling and the ‘get a room!’ comments that you remember that you’re still in the middle of a game of ‘spin the bottle’ and that there's an audience watching as you two shamelessly make out.

this doesn’t seem to faze iwaizumi, however, but the adrenaline in your body aids in your attempt to push him off of you and once you’re completely free from his grasp, you immediately make a beeline to anywhere else but this cursed room.

“y/n!” you hear oikawa and reina call after you but you would rather die than spend another minute in that godforsaken room— especially not after iwaizumi embarrassed you like that in front of everyone.

part one | part two | part three | part four

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