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xplrerdolan · 4 years

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𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 [ 𝘌𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘕 𝘋𝘖𝘓𝘈𝘕 ]

⤬ SUMMARY: Your relationship with Ethan is a little complicated -- after meeting him at a bar and fucking him in what was meant to be a one-night stand, you can’t seem to get rid of him. The cocky asshole won’t leave you alone, and, if you’re being honest with yourself, you can’t leave him alone either. You hate him, detest him, can’t stand him -- but god does he know how to fuck you just right. You know this cycle can’t lead anywhere good… or, can it?

⤬ WARNINGS: lots of aggressive sex, lots of sex, sex, and some fluff to tie it all together

⤬ A/N: when i first posted this, i was returning from a 5-week hiatus that i had taken to finish up my semester. the original author’s note was, “i’m back >:)”, which i feel speaks to the significance of this piece. for a longer author’s note with a greater explanation, please click here.

⤬ WORD COUNT: 14.3k

❋ ❋ ❋

“So, what do you like to do for fun?” you asked, an optimistic smile upturned on your face, leaning in to force yourself to believe you were interested. Maybe if you acted out the body language, you could trick your brain into liking this guy.

Ricky, his name was. You repeated it in your head over and over, not wanting to awkwardly forget it. He looked sort of similar to his Tinder profile pictures, enough so that you couldn’t cry catfish. “I like hunting and fishing a lot,” Ricky said, and you bristled.

You tried not to show it, tried to salvage whatever was left of your chances of getting a good fuck out of your third Tinder date of the week, but jesus did you hate guys who hunted and fished. Whether you ate animals or not, it was such a weird and fucked up hobby. The fact that people saw hunting and fishing -- killing animals -- as a means of fun rather than survival rubbed you all the wrong ways.

“What do you like about it?” you tried, as you had been all night.

“Well, I used to do it with my dad,” he said, a small smile coming across his features. For a second, you relaxed, thinking perhaps there’d be a sentimental moment, and maybe you could look past his dirty habit, because maybe it held nostalgic value. But then, he continued. “Plus, there’s something real amazing about taking down an animal bigger than you. Kind of exhilarating, actually.”

You let out a deflated sigh, all the hope for the evening rushing out of your body. You twirled your vodka cranberry around in its cup, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. You looked away from your “date” to glance at the television, briefly assessing the score plastered across the bottom of the screen to see what team was winning. When the hockey game on the screen didn’t pique your interest, you glanced around at the sticky bartop, little spills of water, soda, and juice that had yet to be taken care of because of the rush of customers, barely noticeable in the dingy, yellow light of the bar.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you told Ricky, with the bearded man barely looking up from his beer as he grunted a sound of acknowledgement, eyes glued to the TV. You were almost certain he’d wanted to take you there just to watch the game. He didn’t seem to notice you take your drink with you on your way to the “bathroom.”

Really, you were just ready to give it up and call it quits. You were fully prepared to call a taxi to take you home, shower, and go to sleep. You even pulled out your phone to order a ride when you were knocked into, your drink spilling all over your white top.

You were ready to apologize, the words forming in the back of your throat as you looked up in shock at the much larger man who’d caused you to make the mess in the first place. But before you could even make a sound, you were being yelled at. “Hey, watch where you’re going!”

His voice was rough, and he was clearly angry. For a second, you were worried this stranger was going to try to pick a fight with you, and considering how much larger he was than you, it would be no question how it would turn out. But when he got a good look at you, and saw what the liquid had done to your shirt, a smirk slowly spread across his face. “Nice tits,” he commented, his eyes nearly smoldering. He let his eyes roam over your body and you felt like you were going to be sick.

“Gross,” you replied back, slamming your now-empty glass on the counter beside him, walking toward the exit with even more purpose than before.

“Hey, hey, wait up,” he called after you, his eyes fixed on the curve of your ass while you walked away from him. You didn’t turn back to face him while you marched forward to get back to your house. Once outside, you thought you’d be in the clear, but this guy was particularly persistent.

His hand gripped your wrist, making you turn toward him and pull yourself out of his grasp. “What?!” you spat at him, your anger flaring in your chest.

He scoffed at you, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “Well, I was going to say sorry for snapping, but now I’d say we’re even,” he said, his tone accusatory.

“Even?” you challenged, stressing the word as you narrowed your eyes at him. “You yelled at me and then told me I had nice tits.”

“Yeah, I gave you a compliment and everything. You’ve just been nasty to me,” he said, eyes narrowing as he leaned closer to you.

You leaned even closer to him, getting a little more in his face. “That wasn’t a compliment, and I don’t owe you anything.”

“Never said you did,” he said, his voice rising again out of irritation.

“There you go, yelling again,” you accused, your noses practically touching at this point.

“Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?” His voice continued to get louder, making you growl and do the only thing you could think of at that moment -- you kissed him.

The kiss could only be described as angry; nothing but passion, teeth, and smashed lips. But he reciprocated and was clearly eager to. All the anger from tonight and your sexual frustration for the past month was coming out into this kiss, and he seemed to be letting things out, too. Just as his arms were moving to grip your waist and pull you closer to him, you got a notification that your driver was here, and would be departing in five minutes.

You hesitated only briefly, looking up at the guy you’d been kissing to meet his lust-filled gaze, eyeing his full, slightly swollen lips before grabbing him by his wrist and pulling him towards your cab.

“Oh, it’s fine when you do it, but not when I do it,” he said, and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

“Shut up,” you retorted, rolling your eyes right back, even though he couldn’t see you. You both got into the backseat of a Honda Civic, immediately going back to kissing him as soon as he shut the door.

The ride was mostly silent, save for the driver turning up his music so he didn’t have to hear the two of you smacking lips in the back of his car. Normally, you wouldn’t be acting this way in a stranger’s car. You were surprising yourself. But this guy just made you so angry, it was like you couldn’t think straight. Plus, it was hard to resist his lips.

When the car stopped, and you saw you’d reached your destination, you pulled yourself away from the guy to get out of the car. You hastily paid the driver on your phone, tipping him a good amount for having to deal with your out-of-control behavior, and ran up to your apartment.

It was on the second floor of a two-story complex, more a condo than anything else. As you walked up the stairs, the guy grabbed a handful of your ass, and you moaned just loud enough for him to hear. When you made it to your front door, you hastily reached inside your purse to unlock the door, with the guy gripping you from behind while he placed open-mouthed, hot kisses into the skin on your neck. He let his hands trail up your stomach and over your still-wet breasts, nearly growling as he squeezed them.

The pleasure he was giving you clouded your mind, making you fumble with your keys. Growing impatient, he grabbed your keys from your hand and opened the door himself, which mildly annoyed you, but you were too focused on getting him in your bed to care.

You hurriedly closed and locked the door behind you, turning around to meet the man’s lips. You moaned openly into the kiss, your arms wrapping around him as he pulled you flush against him. You didn’t want to pull away again, but you had to to take him to your bedroom. You didn’t bother turning the lights on, only slightly stumbling over some objects as you made your way to your bed. You pulled him onto the bed with you, his hard body situating itself between your legs with ease. Your lips reconnected with his, once again releasing some of that anger you’d been holding in all night.

He helped you lift your shirt over your head, revealing the lacy bra you’d worn underneath. You knew that in the dark, he couldn’t see it, but that didn’t stop him from dipping his head to kiss the tops of the swells of your breasts that peeked over the fabric. He reached behind you to impressively snap off your bra, tossing it over his shoulder somewhere while he gripped one of your breasts in his hand and brought his lips to your nipple. You arched into his touch, your hands flying into his hair, pulling on the dark strands. He groaned at the feeling, and you pulled harder, making him bite the hardened bud to make you squeal.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him the ability to grind your bodies together, a whine escaping you as his jeans moved against yours, his hands moving to unbutton them. He undid both your jeans and helped you pull yours down before pulling his own down. He was quick to rid himself of his boxers, leaving you barely able to make out the size of his length. He ripped your panties off your body with a harsh tug, making you protest with a shout.

“Hey, those were nice!” you hissed at him, giving his shoulder a shove -- which did nothing, given his stature and strength.

“I think you’ll live,” he replied sarcastically. “My name’s Ethan by the way. You’ll need to know that in a second.”

“For wha-- oh, god, Ethan!”

He’d sheathed himself fully inside you in one swift motion, making your body jerk away from him while your hands flew to his back, nails digging ruthlessly into his skin. He hissed at the feeling, his hands moving to your waist to hold you there instead of trying to escape him.

“Told you,” he smirked, beginning to snap his hips forward to meet yours.

Your legs wrapped tightly around his middle which only pulled him deeper, a sensation you both wanted to run from and wanted more of. It was extremely jarring; a feeling you’d never experienced with any other man. You could only moan in response to the feeling, your hips bucking up to meet his as your body craved more of him.

The man -- Ethan -- pulled out of you, making you whine at the loss of his cock. “Hands and knees,” he ordered, slapping your thigh quickly. You complied, flipping over exhaustedly while you presented yourself to him.

He spit onto your pussy, lubricating it even more than it already was, before sliding back inside you with ease. You pushed back on him, making him bottom out, which made him curse heavily and grab your hips with brute force. He started rocking your body back onto him while thrusting forward, taking complete control of you.

“You like that?” he asked through gritted teeth, his thighs slapping melodically against yours. “You like when I fuck you this hard?”

“God, yes,” you moaned, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

He bent over your body, his head next to your ear while he took a fistful of your hair to pull him back towards himself. “Of course you do, you little slut. Bet you want it harder,” he taunted you, laughing a little while he continued slamming his cock into you.

“Yeah, right, like you can go harder,” you said, truly not believing that he could possibly fuck you any harder than he already was.

He laughed again, his free hand moving to spank you harshly. “You’re gonna regret that,” he muttered, sitting up and letting go of your hair.

He grabbed your hips again, pulling out of you almost entirely to thrust fully back in with a force that had you screaming. He was pulling you back as he pushed forward, but with enough force behind his thrusts that his grip on your middle was the only thing holding you up.

Him being so rough with you had a coil in your core tightening faster than any man had ever achieved. “Ethan,” you screamed, your eyes starting to cloud with tears as pleasure overwhelmed you. “I’m gonna cum,” you warned, your voice going higher and higher in pitch.

“Give it to me, baby,” he encouraged, continuing his lethal attack to your body. You came harder than you ever had, actually managing to squirt onto him, a feeling that was enough to trigger his own orgasm.

“Where do you want me to cum?” he asked quickly.

“Inside me, cum inside me, please,” you begged, fighting to push back against him to get him deeper.

“Fuck—“ he grunted, stilling behind you while he emptied his load into you. “I hope you’re on the pill,” he said as he came down, realizing how bad this situation could turn out if you weren’t.

“Obviously I am, dumbass,” you said, your mind still reeling from how hot the sex you’d just had was.

“It’s actually not obvious, asshole,” he retorted, slapping you on the ass before pulling out.

You were completely exhausted, watching him move around your room from your position on your bed, your fucked out form just laying there with a stranger’s cum leaking out of you. As Ethan got dressed, he looked at you with a smirk. “You’re a lot more tolerable when you’re screaming my name instead of screaming at me,” he quipped, winking at you.

“You yelled at me,” you grumbled, honestly too tired to fight him.

“Whatever,” he said, moving over to your phone on your nightstand. You were going to protest, really, you were — but you were so tired you couldn’t care.

He unlocked your phone with your thumb, quickly adding himself to your contacts and sending his own phone a text from yours. He looked over at you when he finished, tilting his head to look at your still naked body, covered in sweat, his cum still dripping from you. It was a gorgeous sight, and he wanted to do something gentle, soft; show his gratitude and appreciation for you. But instead, he settled on a quick slap to your ass, which you whined at the contact of, still sensitive after such an intense fuck.

He let himself out, and you made the small effort of getting under your covers and curling up to fall asleep. You thought that would be the last you’d ever hear or see of Ethan, and you were fine with that. You’d probably regret fucking him later -- he was such a jerk. The way he acted was gross. You’d normally never let a guy like him anywhere near your bed -- let alone your pussy.

You’d also never been more wrong about a situation.

The next morning, you groaned as you turned over in your bed, your muscles absolutely killing you. It was a soreness you loved; a sign of a truly good fuck. You’d needed it, and as much as it hurt to move right now, you were grateful for it. You felt at ease, especially having let out such an exuberant amount of emotions the night prior.

You slowly opened your eyes, adjusting to the sunlight that peeked through the curtains, and reached your arm over to your nightstand. You grabbed your phone, checking to see the time. It was ten in the morning on a Saturday, and you sat up with a heavy yawn. You scrolled through your notifications, and ended up with a furrowed brow. There was a text from an unknown number, with just the details of an address.

You were surprised to find that you’d sent your address and they’d sent theirs. This happened last night, which you could see from the timestamp which read 2:36am. You could tell the number belonged to Ethan, and you didn’t bother putting his name in. You really didn’t have any other plans to see him again -- one good fuck would be fine for you.

You got out of bed, still naked from the night before, and shuffled over to your shower. You turned the water on hot, brushing your teeth while you waited for the water to get warmer. Your attention was called to your phone when it vibrated, rolling your eyes when you saw who the text was from. Ethan’s number. You decided to ignore it, getting into the shower and allowing the hot water to roll over your body. You scrubbed away the makeup and memories from the night before, focusing on massaging your muscles. You washed your hair, face, and body, turning off the water and grabbing your towel to pat yourself dry before putting your robe on.

You checked your phone to see you actually had seven unread messages from Ethan’s number. With a roll of your eyes, you unlocked your phone to read the texts.

(unknown number): hey. left my belt at your place. gonna stop by today to grab it (unknown number): actually i have to come over sooner than later (unknown number): will you fucking answer (unknown number): i swear if you’re ignoring me (unknown number): i just realized i don’t even know your name (unknown number): girl with the nice tits, answer your phone (unknown number): brat, answer your phone

You felt anger flare in your chest at the sheer disrespect of his tone talking to you. You let this guy fuck you last night. And fuck, did it piss you off that he thought he could talk to you like that.

(you): i should accidentally take a pair of scissors and destroy your belt for how you talk to me

He replied almost instantly.

(unknown number): and i should accidentally shove my dick down your throat for how YOU talk to ME

Although you were frowning at your phone, staring at his words with a harsh glare, you couldn’t deny the heat between your legs at the thought. You were really into shit like that; being taken control of, being dominated, being used… but you had to remember who you were talking to. You took a steadying breath, ready to type a reply when he started typing again.

(unknown number): i’m coming over, i’ll be there in 5. just want my belt

You quickly replied with fine, taking your towel to dry your hair a bit. Just as you were hanging up your towel, you heard a knock on your door. But he didn’t just knock once, no -- he started drumming on your front door. You rushed to open it, the fear of your neighbors hearing it making panic and anger rise in your throat. You thrust the door open quickly, already greeting him with fury in your eyes.

“What’s wrong with you?” you demanded, crossing your arms over your robe-covered chest.

He looked you up and down — hair wet, face bare, robe wrapped around your body, your legs exposed — prettier than he remembered. Even with your scowl scrunching up your features. He smirked at you, “I’m impatient.”

“Clearly,” you sneered, moving from your doorway to let him in.

In the sunlight, he was able to see your apartment, and he could only describe it as cozy. Dark hardwood floors with a white, tan, and dusty pastel color scheme running throughout. He turned his attention on your retreating form, deciding he should probably follow you.

“Shoes off,” you told him.

“You didn’t seem too worried about my shoes last night,” he teased, but started to take his shoes off nevertheless. He left them by your front door, sock-clad feet barely making a sound as he followed you down a hallway to your room.

Other than the clothes from last night — and his belt over in the corner — your bedroom was tidy. It kept the same color scheme as the rest of your apartment, and he thought about how Grayson would probably like it. He decided to mention it to you.

“Nice place. My twin brother would like it.”

“You have a twin?” you asked, quirking a brow at him.

He nodded, almost preparing himself for oncoming questions he always seemed to get about it. But instead, you just scoffed, “Great. There’s two of you. Just when I was gaining a little more hope in the world.”

Taken aback, Ethan barked a laugh. He shook his head in amusement, “You’re really such a bitch.”

Now it was your turn to laugh at him. “I’m a bitch? You still never apologized for what you did to me last night.”

“What — make you cum?” he asked, walking closer to you now, his steps slow and calculated. “Make you beg for more? Pump you full of my cum just like you wanted? Fuck, I bet there’s still some inside you.”

He was right in front of you now, your body trembling from the memory and the way he spoke to you. You’d enjoyed every second of him being inside of you, from the way he’d moved his hips to the feeling of his hands on you. You couldn’t deny you wanted more if you tried — Ethan could see the lust returning to your face, and watched your breathing change.

He brought a hand up to your cheek, his fingers caressing the skin before it moved to your hair, grabbing a fistful of it to bring you closer to him. “You want more?”

You nodded, your eyes glued to his. He laughed darkly, his other hand coming up to slap you just hard enough for you to know it was a punishment. “Use your words, brat. Tell me how bad you want me.”

“Fuck, I want you, want you inside me, daddy—“

You gasped a little when you called him that, not sure if you’d just ruined the moment. But you could tell from the way his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head that he loved it. And if that hadn’t been telling enough, you definitely knew he loved it by the way he pushed your upper body forward so you were bent over onto your bed, hearing him quickly undo his pants, and spank you roughly on your ass.

Your body jolted away from him, the soreness in your body ever present. You whimpered audibly, which made him laugh. His hand came down on your ass again, the force behind it merciless. “Sore?”

You nodded, but that earned you another spank, which made you yelp out, “Yes! Yes, I’m sore.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, running his hand over your reddened skin to soothe it. “Who made you this sore?”

“You, daddy,” you whimpered, your hands balling into fists in the sheets. In response, you felt his dick tap your clit, already soaked from the way he was speaking to you. He hummed as he felt your wetness coat his tip, his free hand gently gliding over your ass before squeezing it.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he rasped, and your knees nearly buckled when you realized he was just looking at it, watching it glisten with your juices and clench around nothing while you waited for him.

He seemed to enjoy the way your walls flexed, because he brought the pad of his middle finger to your clit, just to watch the way your body reacted to him. He swirled his finger around it, gathering up some of your wetness before his finger slid up to your smaller, puckered hole.

You tensed at first, surprised by his actions, but he didn’t do anything except let his finger tap the area. “Is this okay?” he asked, softer than before.

You nodded, biting your lip, which he accepted for an answer this time. He could tell by the way you reacted that you didn’t normally experiment with anal play, but that you were inclined to try. He spread your wetness around the area, lightly lubricating it before allowing the tip of his finger to push in.

You sucked in a small breath, the feeling foreign but not uncomfortable. He didn’t move his finger at first, just kept it barely inside you, as he brought his dick up to your entrance. When pushed into you, you let out a deep whine, still feeling sore from the night before. It ached to have him stretching you out again, a feeling that was caught somewhere between pain and pleasure. From the way your holes tightened around his finger and cock, he knew he had to take it slow for the moment.

When he finally pushed himself all the way into you, he let out a satisfied moan, the hand that wasn’t fingering you moving to caress the skin on your back. You moaned, wiggling back on him some more to urge him to start moving. He complied, starting at a pace that wasn’t slow but also wasn’t very fast. He rocked his hips back and forth, more focused on wanting to build your comfort with his finger than anything else.

He started to move his finger, just swirling it around inside you, the nerves there loving the attention. You moaned deeply at the feeling, actually pushing back against him again to tell him you wanted more. However, when his finger went a little deeper, you winced, feeling a sharp pain.

“Easy now, brat. Let’s take it slow,” Ethan warned, his free hand roaming across your skin to help you relax.

“Okay,” you sighed out in relief, trusting him to take care of you.

You were shocked at the realization that you trusted him right now, trusted this guy who you’d only met hours earlier and had had inside you only twice. But at least when he was fucking you, he seemed tolerable. He continued pushing into you, loving the wet sounds your body made for him. He looked down at the little bruises that were appearing from the night before, admired the redness of your skin from his spanks. He couldn’t believe his own mind again -- he was thinking about how beautiful you looked covered up in his marks, how stunning sex appeared on your skin. He shook his head at himself, trying to remember how nasty you could be.

Caught up in your own thoughts, you’d both almost forgot the task at hand. Until you started feeling that familiar coil in your stomach, bringing you back to the present. “Ethan, I’m close,” you told him, your back arching more as you pushed your hips back to try to take him deeper again.

“What’d you call me?” he asked, stilling all his movements. The way you whined in response, clenching desperately around him nearly made him dizzy.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you pouted, trying to move on him to create more pleasure to focus on your building orgasm.

“Nuh-uh, not good enough,” he said, delivering a harsh slap to your ass. “Beg me, brat.”

You protested again, trying to bring your fingers down to meet your clit and bring yourself to orgasm. Ethan was quick to retract his finger from your ass, using both of his hands to hook his arms around yours, making you gasp as your chest was pulled up off the bed. He caught both your arms in a single hand, easily gripping you so you couldn’t move. His other hand came up and wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides to cut off your airway slightly.

You swore you could feel yourself get wetter. “You’re going to apologize again and then you’re going to beg me to let you cum. We’ll see if I decide if you’ve earned it,” he growled in your ear before releasing you and pushing you against the bed again.

You gasped for air, your fingers clawing at the sheets again, waves of pleasure already rolling through your body in sharp waves. With the smallest of efforts from him, you could be cumming. You almost wanted to push him farther, see what else he would do if you continued to resist him, but you were afraid he would be as malicious to leave you in this state. Maybe make you get him off and then leave you to deal with it yourself. So, instead of pushing further, you gave in.

“I’m sorry, daddy, please forgive me,” you started, your hips shifting impatiently with him still seated inside you. You moaned at the feeling of him being so deep. “I’ll be a good girl.”

His hips started to roll again, agonizingly slow. “That’s a good start,” he said, his tone approving. “We’ll see if you earn my forgiveness or not.”

“Okay, daddy,” you answered, which pleased him. He liked hearing you submit to him while you were bent over for him, his cum still inside you and about to take more -- it had him gripping your body just that much harder out of pure bliss.

“Tell me what you want,” he urged, his voice gravelly and low. It sent chills down your spine, your pussy clenching around him in a way that had him already thrusting harder.

“Please make me cum, daddy,” you begged softly, looking over your shoulder innocently at him, hoping your eyes would soften him into giving in to giving you what you needed. And they almost did; he could feel his cock twitch in pleasure at the sight. He almost lost control. Almost.

“And how would I do that?” he asked, needing you to say more.

“Fuck me, daddy,” you whined, focusing on not moving on him -- which would only give him more reason to punish you.

“And what else?” he pushed.

“Please?” you tried, thinking the magic word would help.

“Please, what?”

He was looking for something else, and the way his strokes remained slow and steady told you he had the patience to wait all day for you to figure it out. You thought for a second, screwing your eyes shut as you felt him slide in and out of you at a tragically slow pace. It was practically a distraction.

You thought about what you needed, what you wanted him to do more than anything — fuck you, yes, but what else?

Realization struck you, and in your voice was a raw and unmistakable need. “Play with my pussy, daddy, please,” you moaned.

The sound which came from his chest could be described as nothing short of a growl, his hand wrapping around your body to reach your swollen clit and his hips snapping forward again with the strength and speed you needed them at. You cried out in pleasure, your orgasm building fast. He was fucking you so well, hitting spots inside you from this angle and position that you could barely breathe from the pleasure.

You came with a shout, your pussy fluttering around him tightly in a way that had his orgasm following closely behind yours. His hips bucked forward in shallow thrusts as he emptied himself into you again with a satisfied groan.

He pulled out of you and stood back to watch his cum drip out of you again, mesmerized by the sight. He was interrupted by your irritated sigh. “I just showered,” you complained, standing upright and feeling his cum drip out of you and start running down your leg.

“Really? I fucked you and you’re worried about your shower? You really are a brat,” he shook his head.

“My name is (Y/N),” you snapped back.

“Brat suits you better.”

“Whatever. Get your belt and go,” you waved him off, walking back to your bathroom to wipe up the cum that was leaking out of you.

He huffed, obviously annoyed at how dismissive of him you were now that he made you cum. Five minutes ago, you were putty in his hands, and now you’d already slipped through his fingers. He didn’t like you per say, he just wanted you to admit you liked him. He wanted you to chase after his attention like everyone else did. But you were too concerned about your fucking shower to care.

But Ethan was determined to prove to his own ego that he would get you to like him. Even if your bratty attitude drove him up a wall. He’d get you to come around.

When you walked out and he was still there, you crossed your arms over your bare chest, not caring if he saw it now since he’d already seen it twice, just communicating your agitation through your body language.

“What?” you asked when he just stood there, quirking your brow.

“I don’t get a kiss goodbye?” he asked snarkily, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

“You didn’t get a kiss hello so why would I give you a kiss goodbye?” you asked, bristling at the idea of giving him something so affectionate.

“Come on, brat,” he coaxed, holding his arms open for you to walk into.

You debated for a moment, trying to consider whether entertaining this would be worth it. You really didn’t want to involve yourself with him more than you already had. But, his lips turned further up into his smirk, and he wiggled his brows in a way that made you almost laugh -- almost, but you couldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Fine, if it’ll get you out of my apartment.”

You walked into his arms, surprised at the gentle warmth you found there; though, you supposed, he was still human. Even if he was damn near intolerable. He wrapped them around your waist, pulling you to him in a way he hadn’t before. Sure, you’d known him less than 24 hours, but still -- it was different.

Kissing him now was different, too. It wasn’t desperate and needy, it was just -- a kiss. It lingered, his lips actually feeling pillowy soft against yours. Your hands rested against his still bare chest, and you had to admit, the skin-to-skin contact felt amazing. After being handled so roughly, no matter how much you’d enjoyed it, it was nice to be touched gently.

To your dismay, he pulled away first. He looked at you for a second, just let his eyes dust over your features, and then he smirked at you again. “See you soon, brat,” he said, giving your ass a swift tap.

You rolled your eyes as he slipped his shirt on and grabbed his belt. “No, you won’t,” you said decisively. He’d been a good fuck, but god, did he piss you off.

“We’ll see,” he snorted, his ego radiating off of him so much it was almost tangible.

Finally, he walked out, and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You didn’t like that he could affect you so easily. First, he’d turned you on, but then, that kiss… you couldn’t deny that you’d liked it.

When your front door shut, you decided that was enough for him to metaphorically have left your life for good. You let the idea shift around your brain, you were done with him.

But Ethan was not an easy man to ignore.

He texted you periodically throughout the week, teasing you about whether or not you missed him enough yet to literally crawl back to him, which you were always quick to shut down. You’d tried to simply ignore him, but he had a very particular talent of being able to enrage you even over the phone. You couldn’t resist texting him back sometimes. It was petty urge, you had to admit, but he made you petty.

You’d finally put him in your phone, simply as e. The things he usually texted you were annoying as hell. For example:

(e): miss screaming my name? (you): nope.

(e): hey (you): hi? (e): did you get your period yet? (you): yeah, the other day. don’t worry, i’m not pregnant with your child (e): hmm. i could feel extra bitchy vibes coming from you (you): shut up bitchass (e): see?

(e): hey (e): hey (e): hey brat (e): heeeeeeey brat (e): i bet you miss me (you): absolutely not. (e): good, you answered. wyd

To which, you always left him on read. You were not going to become his booty call. He would not be a regular, continuous fuck for you. It was good while it lasted, but the more you had to put up with him, the more stress would be added to your life.

Besides, you had better things to worry about. You had bills to pay and a minimum wage job to work. You really didn’t want to have to worry about the complications of a friends with benefits situation — if you’d even call it that. Friends seemed like an overstatement. No, you were done with him, and he was behind you.

You got ready for work, another shift at a diner near your apartment. You’d worked there for a little over a year, and while the customers were a pain in the ass and your feet were always killing you, you loved your coworkers. It was Friday night, so it was going to be busy, and probably a little chaotic — but it would make for great jokes and stories with your friends.

Your uniform was a little on the ridiculous side, and always got the attention of the men who you served. That’s what it was meant to do, you knew that, and it certainly earned you gracious tips, but that didn’t make it any less of an eyeroll.

A white, button down shirt that was required to be buttoned down to a certain point, tucked into a black, pleated skirt, and a black pair of flats or heels no taller than two inches. You almost always wore the flats, but tonight, well… rent was due soon. So you opted for the heels, knowing you would hate yourself for it later when your feet would be hanging on by a thread.

You drove to work, parking in your usual spot to find the restaurant already getting busy. You were anticipating an evening busy enough to make the time fly by. You walked inside the establishment, greeting your manager who was interacting with some guests, and moved into the back room. You were always assigned the same tables, some large and some small. You hoped a large family would come through and order enough food for an army, and hoped they knew how to tip. Those tips were usually pretty good.

As you’d suspected, time was whirring by you faster than you could really tell. An hour turned to two, which turned to four, and by then, your shift was half-way through. Your best friend, Alice, was working that shift with you. The two of you would snack together while you waited for different tables’ meals to come up, your eyes nervously darting around to watch for your manager.

“Oh shit, some hot guys just walked in,” she said, her interest piqued. You whipped your head around, and nearly paled. Of fucking course. Ethan.

Ethan, and a pack of his loud, boisterous friends, it seemed. You could make out familiar features on another one of the guys — that must be his brother, Grayson. He seemed to be all smiles and laughter.

Caught up in your annoyance and shock, Alice poked you in your side. “Hellooo, Earth to (Y/N)?”

“Hmm? Sorry,” you responded, turning your attention back to her. “What did you say?”

“I said, do you call dibs on any of them?”

“Oh, uh...” you looked back at the group, and a nervous feeling blossomed in your stomach. Should you claim him? The idea bounced around in your head. You weren’t supposed to be bothered by his presence anymore. You weren’t supposed to be affected by him. But the idea of watching Alice potentially flirt with him, and the idea of his attention being on someone other than you bothered you. And you wanted to punch yourself in the face for it.

“Um, yeah, the one with the brown hair and intense eyes,” you answered, looking back at her and hoping your tone didn’t give anything away.

She snorted, and you were afraid she caught you. “There are two of them,” she said, and you tried not to show your relief on your face.

“Oh, right,” you looked back. “The one that’s not smiling.”

And he wasn’t. In what you had assumed was a typical Ethan fashion, he looked pretty disinterested, just nodded along to whatever was being said and stuck close to his twin.

You noticed, with a bittersweet pang of your heart, that they were being seated at a table in your section. Your heart rate spiked, nerves settling over you. What would he say when he saw you? God, you could already hear his teasing now.

You told Alice you’d be right back, and in a daze, you walked over with some menus and a fake smile, ready to pretend not to know who Ethan was. But, Ethan seemed to have a different plan.

“(Y/N)! I didn’t know you worked here,” he greeted you with a taunting smile on his face, like he was challenging you. The two of you knew exactly what had been going on between you, if, you thought spitefully, there even was anything going on between you. Because there wasn’t.

You forced a wider, familiar smile onto your face. “Hi, Ethan, right?”

You were beyond tempted to call him the wrong name, so much so that the syllables seemed to hang off your tongue. But your mind was focused on your tip. You knew you’d get treated like shit if he’d ordered it, and you were scared he would. You had to play nice.

“That’s right, but I don’t think that’s what you called me last time I saw you.”

He was dangling it in your face. You felt your anger flare up, something that you were usually if not always able to control in your workplace. You were a waitress. You were always angry at someone. But no one could make you angry like Ethan could.

“Yeah, I probably called you an ass or something close enough,” you replied snarkily, moving to introduce yourself to the rest of the table while they snickered at your comment.

At least they seemed to have a sense of humor. Ethan watched you with his tongue in his cheek, amused by your outburst. He wondered how many of your buttons he could push without getting kicked out. But then, as he eyed your top, there weren’t many buttons to push at all. And that skirt… he wasn’t walking out of the diner without a promise to see you tonight.

You walked away to let the table look over the menus, walking back to Alice. She wiggled her eyebrows at you when you approached, a knowing smile toying on her lips. “So, he seems interested in you.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “You have no idea.”

She giggled, tapping you lightly on your behind as she walked away, assuming it was going well. You gathered up the drinks they’d ordered, expertly carrying them to the table. Once they were all served their drinks, you took out your notepad and pen to take their orders.

You went around the table, taking everyone’s orders. Surprisingly, Ethan didn’t make some snarky comment -- just ordered a burger without cheese and let you continue doing your job. Until, his friend…

“I’d like a piece of that ass,” he said suggestively, making your chest clench out of embarrassment. Before you could even say anything, Ethan’s hand was flying to the back of his friend’s head.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” he asked, anger present in his voice.

His friend only laughed, shaking his head, “Only joking, bro.”

“Wasn’t funny,” you responded coldly, waiting with clenched teeth to finish taking his order.

He put his hands up in defense, leaning back against the booth. “Whatever, I get it. Lemme just get--”

“Apologize,” Ethan cut him off.

He looked at Ethan in disbelief. “What?”

“You heard me. Apologize.”

His friend looked at you incredulously, shocked that he was being reprimanded by his own friend. He was clearly the bros-before-hoes type. “Sorry,” he said with a hint of spite, barely able to look you in the eye. But it would do.

You looked at Ethan and mouthed your thanks to him, to which he nodded, his demeanor relaxed despite how angry he was feeling. You were his to taunt, to fuck with, to annoy… because he wouldn’t do it to embarrass you in front of everyone. He knew you were quick witted enough to respond to his comments without letting the truth show.

The rest of the evening seemed to go by just fine. There were no more problems from Ethan’s table, as he seemed to have shut down anyone’s desire to fuck with you. They finished their food, they left, and left a hell of a tip -- most likely on Ethan’s orders.

You were surprised to admit it, but you actually felt beyond thankful to him. You couldn’t stand up for yourself at work, so for him to help you like that meant more to you than you could express. You started closing up your tables and stations, ready to just be done for the night.

You said goodnight to your coworkers, clocked out, and headed out to your car. You were looking down into your purse, searching for your keys, when you were grabbed from behind. The only sound that left your mouth was a gasp before a hand covered your mouth. You struggled against your attackers grasp, only — your attacker was laughing.

He started to put you down, and you already knew. You knew it was Ethan. If his voice didn’t give it away, it was his actions. Your chest heaved, emotion consuming you — anger, rage, fear, and the tiniest twinge of relief that you were safe. What was worse was you could feel tears welling up in your eyes as you were overwhelmed by the onslaught of feelings.

“You fucking idiot!” you screamed at him, taking in a shaky breath, clenching your teeth and trying to swallow the lump in your throat. “That wasn’t funny!”

Out of anger, and slight embarrassment over your reaction to his stupid prank, you brought your hands down on his chest to hit him, trying to push him away from you. But he was quick to grab a hold of both your wrists, spinning you around in his grasp so you were wrapped up in his arms with your arms crossed over each other. His laughter slowly subsided, and you focused on breathing and absolutely not crying.

When his laughs finally died down, he brought his lips down to your ear and nibbled the shell of it, his breath tickling your cheek. He was ready to tease you about how funny your reaction was, but he heard you sniffle, which you’d desperately tried to hide.

“Hey,” he said, concern laced in his voice. He turned you around in his grasp, soft eyes roaming openly over your face. “You’re okay. I’m sorry.”

He sounded genuine, so you nodded, but couldn’t look up at him. You took a deep breath, one little tear rolling over your cheek. “You really scared me,” you admitted, feeling your stomach curl at how vulnerable you sounded.

You wanted to push him away from you, wanted to scream at him for being such an asshole, but you were still shaken. You were terrified of something like that actually happening to you. In spite of yourself, you leaned further into him, allowing his frame and strong body to provide you a false sense of security. He wrapped his arms tighter around you immediately, letting you gather yourself. He whispered another apology before mumbling more reassurances, and you felt your heart rate return to normal. Actually, not to normal -- slower than that. He was soothing you, as odd as it sounded in regards to Ethan as you’d known him.

Not for the first time, you were surprised to find you trusted him, especially in this moment where he was the only thing standing between you and potential danger. Even though he should be considered potential danger… his warm smell and firm hold on you didn’t allow you to be scared of him.

But before you could melt further into him, you started to push him away, forcing yourself to focus on being angry at him. “You should never do that to a girl. Actually, not to anyone,” you scolded, even though you knew he’d probably already figured that out.

And he told you as much. “I know, I get it. I’m sorry,” he said, but his face turned up in a smirk. “Thought you were tougher than that, brat.”

You scoffed at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I cannot fucking believe you.”

“What? I said I was sorry,” he deadpanned, furrowing his brow at you and mimicking your stance.

“Well, I’m not really in the mood to joke around right now,” you snapped, turning around to walk away from him and head to your car.

“Don’t walk away from me, (Y/N),” Ethan said, his voice hard.

“Oh, look! He knows my name again,” you said over your shoulder, continuing your walk to your car.

“Would you stop being such a child?”

To which you responded childishly, “Are you gonna make me?”

It was enough for him to walk over to you in three long strides and grab you by your elbow. “Yeah, I am gonna make you. I’m gonna teach you a lesson, and you’re gonna beg me to do it.”

You were so ready to fight him; to push him away, tell him to fuck off, leave you the fuck alone. You were going to do it, but when you whipped around to meet his eyes you were instantly frozen. His gaze was hard -- dominant. You could see the rage and lust swirling around his irises, and your body reacted almost immediately. You felt yourself nearly tremble when his other hand cupped your cheek softly, his sudden gentleness surprising you and piquing your curiosity. He just stared at you, his eyes locked on yours with that intense look still in them. He was waiting, you realized, for you to answer him.

You took in a shaky breath, worried you wouldn’t be able to find your voice to answer him. You tried to compose yourself, and replied as evenly as you could, “Like hell you’ll make me beg for it.”

His eyes seemed to darken even more, his grip on your arm tightening briefly. “Keys,” he said simply, his other hand opening expectantly, his palm facing you.

“No, it’s my—“

“Keys,” he repeated, more sternly now.

You rolled your eyes, an action that would surely worsen your punishment later, and handed over your keys. He opened your door for you, slamming it shut behind him. He walked over to the driver’s side of your car, got in, and started driving in the direction of your apartment.

He parked near your house and didn’t bother giving you your keys back. He knew which apartment was yours and which key on the ring opened its door. He didn’t even wait for you as he strode to your front door, leaving you to nearly jog to catch up to him.

When he got to your door, he opened it and waited for you, standing outside with his arms crossed. You timidly approached him, your fingers toying with the hem of your skirt. He glared at you while he waited for you to hurry up, his impatience only growing.

When you finally crossed the threshold of your apartment, you were pushed to the ground and landed on your hands and knees — hard. You’d definitely have bruises on your knees tomorrow.

You stayed in your position on the floor, knowing you’d probably already pissed him off enough — resisting now would just be an invitation for brutality. He stalked up to you, his steps slow and calculated. Once he was parallel to your head, he reached down and grabbed a fistful of your hair. You were going to stand, but his foot stopped you, keeping you on the ground.

He started walking towards your bedroom, keeping his grip on your hair, and made you crawl next to him. Your knees were now on the verge of aching, and he knew they would be. He had every intention of keeping you on them until you begged to be off them.

When he got to your bedroom, he had you sit up on your knees and wait for him to take off his pants. He allowed them to drop to his ankles, leaving his boxers on. He looked at you expectantly, and you got to work.

You leaned forward, allowing your mouth to cover his hardening cock through his underwear. You let your tongue dampen the material while you sucked on it gently, focusing on getting him completely hard.

He pulled you back by your hair, looking down at you with those mesmerizing eyes. “No teasing. This is your only warning.”

You nodded, biting your lip, and he let your hair go so you could continue. You looped your fingers into the top of his boxers, pulling them down and freeing him from their confines. Once you pulled them down to his ankles, you grasped his length in your hand, seeing just how big he was for the first time. You hadn’t had time to admire him before this point.

Before he could get mad, you covered the tip with your mouth, starting slow bobs of your head up and down his shaft. His hands came to your hair and pushed it out of your face so he could see you better. He loved the way his cock looked going in and out of your mouth, and when your eyes flicked up to meet his gaze — fuck, he almost wanted to forget about punishing you.

Almost.

As you continued, your saliva started to accumulate, and little trails of it started running down your chin, dripping onto your chest. The sight was captivating to him, and the messy way you were taking him was driving him wild. He started to thrust shallowly into your mouth in time with the movements of your head, making you take him a little farther back than you already were.

The feeling was great for both of you, especially him. But words couldn’t describe the pleasure you felt when he let out a deep moan and cursed under his breath. “So good,” he praised softly, making your eyes nearly flutter shut.

However, as much as you were enjoying pleasuring him, your knees were starting to ache. You started to shift your weight around, and Ethan took notice to it. He smirked down at you, watching you squirm exactly as he intended you to.

“Uncomfortable?” he asked, his voice falsely soft.

You nodded, pulling off him to start to stand up. But he was quick to keep you in place with his hand, his eyes trained on you in amusement. You looked up at him in confusion, and he simply smiled down at you.

“Good. Stay there until I tell you to get up.”

You glared at him, but took his dick into your hand again and brought him back into your mouth. You focused on the task at hand, trying to please him in any way you could to get him to ease the torture he imposed on your knees.

“Why can’t you always be this good for me?” he murmured, his hand coming to caress your cheek.

You pulled off him with a pop, allowing your tongue to tease him before answering. “Then I wouldn’t be your brat, would I?”

He chuckled, and you knew you’d said exactly what he wanted to hear. At the same time, you felt it was the truth. Not just a half truth spoken in the heat of the moment. He grabbed you by your chin, leading you up towards him and off your sore knees. You hissed at the feeling of standing now, and he was quick to ease your pain, holding you close to him so you didn’t have to rely on your body to hold yourself up.

He kissed you hotly, that passion back in the way he kissed you. It was all desperation and fire, sending wetness pooling between your legs. He lifted you off the ground, carrying you alarmingly effortlessly to your bed. He pushed his pants and underwear off his body completely before climbing over you.

You hooked your thumbs into your skirt to pull it down, but your hands were smacked away. Ethan crawled over your body, wrapping a hand around your throat while his other hand worked on the buttons of your top.

“I had to watch you walk around in this little outfit all fucking night. I had to watch other guys, even my own friends, admire how fucking hot you are. I’m gonna fuck you in this outfit, so every time you wear it to work, you’ll think about how good it felt to have me inside you,” he growled, his hand pushing the material of your shirt apart so your breasts were exposed to him, still in your plain bra.

You were panting under him, squirming under his heavy gaze and from his words. Your hips bucked towards his, and he responded by slapping your thigh and pushing your hips down. He glared at you, and it communicated that he was in control. You were not allowed to so much as respond to his touch. No matter how much he teased and baited you, you were supposed to sit there and take it.

You whined, a pout and furrowed brows decorating your features. He was quick to bring his other hand up to smack you, then he pushed his fingers passed your lips, making you suck on them. He leveled his gaze with yours, his stare intense.

“Keep pushing me, you’ll regret it,” he warned, the patience leaving his eyes. To his dismay, you giggled, swirling your tongue around his fingers.

He brought his other hand to your throat, tightening his grip again. He pulled his fingers from your mouth, bringing them to your already soaked pussy, not needing the lubrication. He shoved them both inside you, making you squeak. He seemed satisfied with your reaction, curling his fingers while the hand around your throat tightened again. When your eyebrows knitted together and you let out a mewling moan, he knew he had you right where he wanted you.

He didn’t bother to build your pleasure to deny you orgasm, he just removed his fingers all together and enjoyed the whine of annoyance you let out. He brought his fingers back up to your mouth, making you suck on them. He kept the hand around your throat loose — a simple reminder that, at any moment, he could have you begging and writhing beneath him if he wanted.

“Hands and knees again,” he ordered, and you were at least thankful it was on the bed this time instead of on your hardwood floor -- you weren’t sure if you’d be able to take it.

It seemed he’d decided that he’d wanted you begging and writhing, though, because his hand met the soft skin of your ass as soon as you were in position. And if you thought your knees hurt, you had no idea what storm was coming to you now.

The first slap hadn’t been so bad. But smack after smack, he kept going, never seeming to get enough of the way you screamed in response, or the way your ass rippled every time his hand made contact. You were absolutely positive you would be so bruised tomorrow you wouldn’t be able to sit.

“Please, it hurts,” you gasped out, hands clutching your blankets as you braced yourself for more impact.

He delivered one last whack, chuckling out, “Good.”

You whimpered again, the whiny sound coming from the back of your throat, falling over on your side once he stopped. You caught your breath while he smoothed his hands gently over your skin, admiring how bright and red it was. It was incredible -- you already looked so fucked out, and he hadn’t even begun with you.

He laid beside you, curling up to you and grabbing your leg under your knee. He brought it up so your cunt was exposed to him, bringing your hand up to keep your leg in position while he lined himself up with your entrance.

He pushed in slowly, savoring the feeling of your walls wrapped around him again, his teeth biting into your shoulder where his moans were muffled. He started to rock his hips back and forth, rolling them into yours to create a beautiful friction. His hand trailed down your side and balled itself up in your skirt, pulling you even closer to him as he started to pound faster.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, kissing and biting your shoulder. “Missed this tight pussy.”

You could only throw your head back in response, your walls clamping down on his cock the way you knew he liked. You weren’t disappointed with his reaction; he groaned in pleasure, needing to pause for a moment before continuing to plow into you. You felt a little smirk form on your face, knowing you could do that to him.

A moment later, he was grabbing your face and turning it so he could kiss you sloppily, a mewl of pleasure slipping between your mouths. He kissed you deeply, never easing the pace of his hard thrusts, and didn’t pull away until you needed to breathe. And even then, his lips rested against yours while you panted heavily.

The hand that had balled itself into your skirt was trailing back up your side, his fingers dancing over your breasts briefly before his hand settled, again, onto your neck. He applied a light pressure, but you knew this wasn’t punishment; this was possession. His eyes bored into yours and all you could feel was excitement coursing through your veins -- no, that was your orgasm building.

One of your hands flew over his, your mouth opening into an O shape. “Ethan,” you moaned, your fingers squeezing his as your orgasm crept over you.

“Let go,” he said, his hand quickly moving back down to your clit where he applied pressure, pushing you over the edge.

You came, hard, all over his cock. He felt the pulsing beat of your cunt all over his shaft, the flutters and spasms of your walls making him bite your shoulder once again. He held himself back from cumming, pulling out of you once he felt your body relax again.

“Suck me off,” he said, laying back against your pillows.

You were eager to please him after he made you cum like that, so you crawled between his legs without hesitation, taking him far back into your throat as soon as you took him into your mouth. There wasn’t any reason to tease him now, not after he treated you so well.

He moaned just loud enough for you to hear him, and the sound made your pussy ache again. You wanted to hear more of it, so you pushed yourself to take him even further. You felt him in your throat, and you gagged around him, earning an even louder moan from him. You were going to keep going, let him fuck and use your throat, but he had another idea.

“Get up here,” he ordered, his lids heavy as he watched you.

You popped off him, his cock slapping up against his stomach. You crawled over him, situating your thighs on either side of his face. “Turn around,” he said.

Your heart jumped in your chest as you followed his instruction, your ass and cunt in full view for his greedy eyes. You lowered your body down to take him back into your mouth, and for the first time, his lips met your pussy. He moaned at the taste, his hands coming up to wrap around your legs to pull you even closer to him. You could barely focus on sucking his dick from the pleasure he was giving you. He was quick to tap you lightly on your thigh to snap you out of your trance, though.

His lips latched around you, and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t done this sooner. You were a delicious mixture of salty and sweet; he might even say it was addicting. He let his tongue explore your folds, and each time he moved his head to explore more, you could feel the scruff of the facial hair that was just starting to grow in. It felt like such a sweet burn against your skin, and subconsciously your thighs closed tighter around his face to feel more of it.

You were driving him just as crazy. He was thrusting softly into your mouth on the same tempo you were moving your neck, your throat relaxing in response. You were pulling off him to moan every few seconds, jerking him in your hand. You rolled your tongue over the vein of the underside of his cock, and each time he would twitch in response.

You were still sensitive from your previous orgasm, and with each flick of Ethan’s tongue, you were pushed closer to your second one. You felt his tongue trail up to your entrance, and then… beyond. Though you were unaccustomed to the feeling, you couldn’t help but moan in response. The sound only encouraged him to continue his exploration, and moments later, his tongue was trailing back to your clit and you felt two fingers; one at each of your holes.

You were shocked at how much you wanted him to fuck both of your holes with his fingers. You whined and popped off him briefly to beg him for it. “Please, daddy.”

You could feel a cocky smirk against your skin as he continued to happily lap at your folds, his fingers pushing into you. They entered you slowly enough that you could adjust to them, but it didn’t take him long before he started moving his fingers in a alternating rhythm with quick flicks of his wrist. He kept a steady pace, and you could feel your oragsm about to hit you.

“I need more,” you said. You gasped as you felt another finger being added to both holes, your mouth hanging open as the warm, familiar feeling spread over your lower abdomen and cunt. Before you knew it, you were cumming again, and with the added pleasure of four of his fingers, you squirted all over his mouth, neck, and chest.

“Fuck,” you panted as the shocks of pleasure subsided.

“My turn, brat,” he said, tapping your leg to signal you to get off.

You climbed off of him, landing on your back and taking several deep breaths. Ethan stood up and walked to the side of your bed that your head was closest to. Once he was at the edge, he wrapped a hand around your throat and pulled you towards him. He moved his hand to grip your cheeks between his fingers, ensuring he had your full attention.

“Ever been facefucked?”

“No,” you answered, shaking your head in response as well.

“I think you can handle it. If you need me to stop, just snap your fingers,” he told you, waiting for you to agree. Once you nodded, he let go of your face and brought his cock to your lips.

You opened your mouth for him to enter, your heart thudding wildly in your chest as you prepared yourself for what it might feel like. Ethan slid himself in slowly, and once he reached your throat, he went even slower. He seemed to be testing your gag reflex; lucky for him, you were pretty good at relaxing your throat. He was able to get a decent stroke in before you gagged, a satisfied groan bubbling up from his throat.

He started to thrust at a steady rhythm, still slow to start with, though, to make sure you were handling it well. His moans started to increase in volume and occurrence, and the sound was being sent straight to your pussy. You could feel yourself start to throb in response, even though you’d already cum twice, you were still craving so much more.

You brought a hand to the meeting of your thighs, your fingers trailing along the soaked lips of your pussy, a tiny moan escaping you. Your middle finger pressed against the tiny bundle of nerves, moving in circular motions. Ethan noticed you were touching yourself, and the sight had his eyes rolling back.

Each time he pulled away to let you breathe, you were spitting out all the accumulated saliva in your mouth, which trailed down your face. The action itself was turning you on, and Ethan fucking your tight little throat was only edging you further. You especially felt yourself throb when he started to growl out praises.

“Fuck, I love fucking your throat. Such a good brat,” he said.

The praises were nice, but when he pulled away to admire your saliva-covered face and said, “What a pretty little slut you are,” it was enough to push you over the line again.

Ethan could tell you were about to cum from the way you arched into your own touch, and he could practically feel his cock stiffen even more. He slipped himself back into your mouth, watching you get yourself off with his jaw slack. He started to thrust even faster into your throat, and you forced yourself to take it, and finally, you felt yourself cumming for a third time.

Ethan got to watch as you squirted this time, and he felt the vibrations of your moans on his cock. The sight and the feeling brought him such an intense pleasure that he felt himself cumming. He pulled out of your mouth, allowing his cum to drip down your face and mix with your spit.

At this point, you were covered in your own spit, his cum, and your lower body was twitching with pleasure. You thought Ethan would never be able to top the last time the two of you had sex, but clearly, you were wrong. To your surprise, Ethan went into your bathroom and brought you some tissues to clean up the majority of the mess on your face.

You sat up to take it, but he held it from you for a minute. “Hold on,” he murmured, his eyes roaming over the damage he’d done.

A smirk spread over his face slowly as he looked at you, a tiny chuckle leaving his mouth. “Beautiful,” he said, finally giving you the tissue. You shook your head at him, but you felt your cheeks warm nevertheless.

You wiped what you could off, then stood and walked to your bathroom. “I’m taking a shower,” you said, watching as Ethan nodded and checked his phone. You figured he would be gone by the time you got out.

You undressed from your tousselled clothes, looking at your face in the mirror. Your makeup was smeared everywhere, there was still quite a bit of saliva and cum all over it, and you looked absolutely destroyed in the best way possible. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you as you assessed the state of yourself, turning happily to get into the shower.

Once you were done in the shower, you stepped out, dried off, and went into your room to change into your pajamas. You were expecting Ethan to be gone, so seeing him passed out, under your covers, curled around one of your pillows was a bit of a shock. You stood still for a moment, considering your options. You could wake him up and tell him to leave, but…

Well, he looked comfortable. And your bed was big enough to fit the both of you, so what did it really matter? He would only be staying the night. You were sure he’d be gone before you even woke up. So, you dressed for bed and got under the covers next to him; it felt foreign to be sleeping beside someone again, but you were pretty tired from work and the night’s events, so you drifted off to sleep easily.

To your dismay, Ethan was still beside you when you woke up. You weren’t annoyed, but you were a little nervous. You didn’t know how he would act when he woke up; if there would be awkward conversation, if he would want breakfast, if he would insist on hanging around, if you wanted him to hang around. There were so many ways your morning could go, and not knowing was leaving you on edge.

You were distracted from your thoughts by movements from Ethan beside you. Your eyes drifted over to him, preparing yourself for however he would greet you, but you found he wasn’t awake yet. He was just turning in his sleep, his face now level with yours.

You’d never truly gotten a good look at this man until now. You were always too busy being pissed at him or you were bent over for him; so you hadn’t had the chance to really look at him. You let your eyes dance over his face, taking in each of his features at a time.

You noticed how soft and fluffy his hair looked. It was clear he took care of it. His forehead was accentuated by bold eyebrows and defined bone structure that seemed to span across the rest of his face. Though his eyes were closed, you could see how his eyes were slightly downturned -- which probably explained how he was able to win you over with just a look. Plus, his eyelashes were long and dark, spread out so gorgeously. His nose was round and soft looking, sort of buttonish. For lack of better term, it was cute -- which felt like a weird word to describe any part of the man who fucked you into your mattress.

Below his nose were a pair of the softest looking lips you’d ever seen on a man. They were so plump and pink, looking extremely kissable. Surrounding those lips was a growing beard, which looked scruffy and made his strong jaw even more attractive. He had a tiny birthmark on his right cheek, too.

Your eyes kept going back to his lips, focused on how plush and plump they looked. They looked so velvety, and you couldn’t resist your urge to reach out and touch them. You brought your thumb to his lips and ran it along them, and they were just as soft as they appeared. You held your thumb there for a moment, and you were surprised by his lips puckering on it.

You looked back to his eyes out of shock, only to find them lazily open and already on your face. A soft smile formed on his face, and you felt your whole face warm. He stretched, so you let your hand fall away from his mouth. He sleepily rubbed at his eyes, finally opening them again to let them settle on you.

“Like something you see?” he asked, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Shut up,” you laughed, shaking your head at him before starting to sit up.

He made a sound of disapproval, wrapping his arms around your middle and pulling you towards him. He spooned you from behind, your back pressed against his bare chest. You tensed up, but as his arms settled around you in a warm cuddle, you felt yourself relaxing into his touch. You craned your neck up to look at him, and he took the opportunity to press a kiss to your forehead.

You chuckled at the action, mostly out of disbelief. “Who knew you were such a softie in the mornings?”

“I’m not soft,” he scoffed, but his arms stayed wrapped around you, and his eyes told a different story.

You just hummed, settling into his hold even more. “What made you stay last night?” you asked curiously.

“I was pretty tired,” he said, and as if on queue, he yawned.

You nodded, resting your head on his chest. The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, and it was actually nice to just lay with him. Once again, he was surprising you, and you were starting to think there was a lot more to him than whatever front he put up.

Even if he wanted to deny feeling soft for the moment, you were certain that you were feeling soft, so you turned in his arms to meet his eyes again. You were so captivated by the color of them; not one color, but a few. The sunlight that filtered through your blinds landed on his face and made them brighter, and you caught yourself staring. He didn’t seem to mind, though. He was staring right back at you.

You bit your lip in contemplation, wanting to kiss him but also afraid to make this moment any more intimate than it already was. Though, you figured you were already here, might as well do this while you’re at it.

You adjusted yourself in his grip so you were able to reach his lips, leaned forward, and pressed your lips against his. Much to your pleasure, he was as gentle as you were. Neither of you were in any rush to get this out. You both seemed to have the same thoughts in mind, even if neither of you wanted to admit anything out loud.

You brought your hands up to his hair, and found it to be as soft as you’d assumed it was. Your fingers threaded themselves through the strands and just played with them instead of pulling or tugging. From the way his grip on your waist tightened, you could tell he was enjoying it.

Your lips moved together lazily, and your bodies kept the same pace. Though you were getting closer to each other, it was slow -- gradual. Your legs tangled with his, his hands lifted your pajama top and played with the skin on your hips; each touch was gentle and deliberate.

His hand slipped down to your thigh, then continued on to wrap around your leg and hike it up over his hip. He shifted to free himself from his boxers, and since you’d only worn panties to sleep, he slipped them to the side and put himself at your entrance.

“Is this okay?” he asked, voice still gravelly.

You nodded and hummed, preparing for the way he stretched you out. Once he pushed in, you both let out breathy moans, your lips meeting again to bask in the pleasure. He bottomed out, then stayed still for a brief moment. He let his hand fall to your hip again, gripping the skin as he enjoyed how much tighter you felt in this position.

He started to move, your breath coming out in little pants as he rolled his hips into yours. You started to meet his thrusts by shifting your hips forward, making him go even deeper. At this pace and angle, you could feel how big he was with every motion; the ridges and veins of his cock giving you more pleasure than before.

The pleasure was just as intense for Ethan, too. The tightness of your warm walls and the way you were clutching onto him, trying to bring him closer, was driving him insane. So much so that he felt his orgasm coming on before he wanted it to.

“Fuck,” he gasped, his grip on you tightening even more. “I’m cumming.”

You moaned as you felt his hot cum inside you again, every twitch of his cock bringing you another wave of pleasure. You closed your eyes and let your nails trail over his skin, honestly ready to fall back to sleep for a few more hours.

“You didn’t cum, did you?” he sighed, looking disappointed in himself.

“No, but it’s fine-”

“It’s not fine, lay back.”

“What are you-”

“Just lay back for me,” he ordered, removing his arms from around you.

You reluctantly left his warm embrace to lay on your back, and he settled himself between your legs, his mouth level with your cunt. “Open your mouth,” he said.

You opened your mouth, waiting to see what he was going to do. He stuck his tongue out and leaned his head forward, licking a stripe up from your entrance to your clit, making you moan. He sat up on his knees, his own cum gathered up on his tongue, and crawled up your body to spit it in your mouth. You swallowed it happily, the action alone enough to make your clit throb. The taste of your combined juices drove you insane, and you pulled him back to your mouth for more of the taste, bringing his tongue into your mouth to savor it.

He went back down and repeated the action, bringing his cum up to your mouth until almost all of it was out of you. When he wasn’t able to get any more from you, he stayed down at your pussy and focused on eating you out. Your back was arched into his grip, his tongue working like magic on your clit and between your folds. He alternated between licking you, sucking you, and fucking you with his tongue, which was enough to have you mewling with pleasure and coming undone at his touch.

It was when he shook his head back and forth with his tongue pressed against your clit that you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your head tipped back, your fingers gripping his hair and your hips grinding on his mouth. He pulled you even tighter to him, wanting to draw out your high for as long as he could. He stayed there, kitten-licking you until your body relaxed and he knew you were spent.

He crawled over you again, letting his body cover yours as he leaned down to kiss you. Tasting yourself on his lips was an added bonus to the tender touch of his kiss, and when you felt his erection against your thigh, you giggled.

“Round two?” you asked, moving your legs to try to wrap them around him.

He laughed in return, but sighed. “I wish I could, but I gotta get back before Gray gets annoyed. I have plans with him today.”

You were disappointed, but nodded your head in understanding, letting your legs relax.

He smirked at you, kissing you once more before standing. He got dressed while you laid in your sheets, just watching him. It still felt strange how different he was this morning, but you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. Still, you were curious.

“What was with the change of pace?” you asked, making him look up from his task of getting his belt in the loops.

He shrugged, seeming to think it over in his mind before answering. “Maybe I was a little soft,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, but why?”

He shrugged again, this time not looking up from his task. “I can be real nice when you aren’t pissing me off,” he smirked, finally getting it through the loops and looking back at you.

You rolled your eyes and stood up, slipping your panties back on and grabbing a pair of shorts to wear around the house. He chuckled again, pulling his shirt over his head. “There’s my brat,” he said affectionately, and although there was sarcasm in his statement, it didn’t fail to make you feel special. You sort of liked the title.

He checked his hair in your mirror and seemed to decide he was happy with his appearance. He turned to you an opened his arms wide, a small smile decorating his face. You smiled back, walking into his embrace and letting him kiss you goodbye.

“Try not to ignore my texts this time around,” he said, winking at you as he left your bedroom.

“We’ll see,” you teased, but in reality, you knew you wouldn’t be.

You felt like there was a whole side to Ethan that was only just emerging, and you couldn’t lie to yourself and say you didn’t like it. He was growing on you -- dominance, cockiness, rudeness, and all the rest. Even if you wouldn’t admit it out loud yet.

Even as Ethan left your apartment to head back to his place, he knew he wouldn’t be letting you slip between his fingers. You may have gotten under his skin, but you seemed to fit there. And it seemed that he could fuck the attitude out of you, which he was starting to love doing. You were his little brat, and he didn’t have any plans to let that go any time soon.

#ethan dolan #ethan dolan smut #ethan dolan fanfiction #ethan dolan fic #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan fluff #ethan dolan x reader #the dolan twins #dolan twins #i hope u all enjoy this :) either again or for the first time

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penpatronuswhump · 4 years

Photo

WHUMPTOBER 2020

No. 5

Fandom: Avengers

Whumpee: Steve Rogers

Title: The Modern Mengele

By: PenPatronus // PenPatronusAooO

The HYDRA base they found was a rogue one – one SHIELD didn’t even know about – one that was only ever built and run by HYDRA agents. The Alaskan wilderness seemed like a likely location to hide Loki’s staff, so the Avengers set out for the base as soon as one of their sources discovered it. That source led them to a cargo train that left Fairbanks once a month with supplies for the base. The six Avengers snuck onto the rear of a train right before it left, and dashed into the nearest car, which turned out to be a refrigerated one full of frozen meat. The team lasted an hour sitting, individually, with their backs against the walls or barrels or wooden crates. And then Natasha crawled over to Clint’s arms and he wrapped them around her, warming her up with soft quick motions. And then Steve decided that he was cold enough to risk feeling foolish, and he joined their little hug. Eventually, all six Avengers ended up in a little dogpile, clinging to each other for warmth. Tony opened the Iron Man suit and programmed it to blast heat across all of them. There was a silent agreement that no one was to tell anyone about the team of superheroes hugging each other in a train…

When the train came to a stop, they waited, weapons ready, at the door. They never got a chance to use those weapons, because canisters suddenly dropped down from a ceiling vent, and gas exploded so fast that not even the Iron Man suit had a chance to close its vents before Tony took an inhale. The six Avengers passed out instantly.

Natasha woke up in the same place she fell asleep in. The train was moving again – rumbling along the tracks. She was chained tight to the steel wall underneath the refrigeration vents. Clint was on her right and Tony was on her left, both still unconscious. The Iron Man suit, Cap’s shield, and Mjolnir, Thor’s hammer, sat quietly in the opposite corner. A man in a black, thick HYDRA uniform leaned past her and felt the pulse in Tony’s neck. Natasha tried to nab the man with the only weapon she had at the moment – her teeth – but the arm pulled back. She squinted through what remained of the haze and saw their source in SHIELD, the one who had told them about the rogue base in the first place.

“Where’s the rest of my team, Doug?” Nat spat at her traitorous friend.

Brown-haired, blue-eyed, vaguely resembling a Ken doll, Doug sat back down in his seat between two pairs of some of the biggest brutes of men Natasha had ever seen. “Don’t be mad,” he told her. “Let me explain.”

“You were my date to Clint’s wedding,” Natasha whispered, incredulous. “How could you betray us like this?”

“I didn’t betray you. I saved you!” Doug insisted. “My lieutenant wanted to kill you all, but I convinced him to let you, Stark, and Clint go. We’re on our way back to Fairbanks. But I can only let you go, Natasha, if you swear not to go after the others. If you do, they’ll kill them instantly. My lieutenant has big plans for Banner, Rogers, and Thor. You don’t interrupt him, and he doesn’t shoot them in the head.”

“What does this lieutenant of yours want with them?”

“It’s not actually him, it’s…” Doug apparently couldn’t bring himself to look his old friend in the eyes when he told her this part. “It’s Keane.”

Nat’s jaw dropped. “Dr. Albert Keane? The Modern Mengele?”

“That’s an unfair nickname. He’s not as bad as Josef Mengele.”

“He does merciless medical experiments on innocent people! I can’t believe you’re on his side!”

“Nat, I—” Doug got up and started to pace the car. “I told you. I told you I convinced them to let you go if they can keep the others. I did you a favor. Now, tell me you’re going to stand down. Swear it on your godchildren’s lives.”

“You think I’m going to just sit here and let Keane put Thor’s head on Hulk’s body?” Natasha shook her head. “I never stop fighting for my team. You, of all people, should know that.”

Suddenly, they all heard a thump on the roof above them. A laser cut through the center of the ceiling and started going in a circle. “You should know something, Doug,” Nat said over the roar. “I told you six of us were coming… I lied.”

----------

Steve woke up to find himself strapped to a surgical table with his feet at Banner’s head and Thor’s feet at his head. The three beds formed a triangle under massively bright lights. In the center stood a balding man in a white coat who was staring, hypnotized almost, at whatever findings he was reading on a holographic screen. “Imagine it,” he said out loud, and Steve wondered if the man knew he was awake. “The strength of the Hulk, the God of Thunder, and Captain America all in one being… Magnificent.”

“Why don’t people just ask for samples of our blood,” Cap wondered, sarcastically, startling the man, “instead of taking it from us by force?”

The balding man stepped over a few cords and approached Steve’s bed. “Would you have given it to me?” the man asked. Steve didn’t need to answer that question. “I am glad you’re awake. The other two – we must leave them unconscious – they’re too dangerous. But science is extra fun when there’s an audience to witness it. You, Captain, will be the audience for this experiment.” The balding man tipped his head to the side. “Can you move?”

Steve had already tried. “What did you do to me?”

Keane, was the man’s name. It said “Dr. Keane” on his lab coat. “Drained your blood. Rude, I know, but I can’t have you making any trouble. If you weren’t a superhuman you’d be quite dead by now. Astounding that your body can operate at all with two pints of blood in it.” Keane walked past Banner to a metal table and took a scalpel off it. He was grinning when he returned to Steve, whose eyes followed the scalpel down to the skin of his arm. “Do you feel this?” Keane asked as he dragged the scalpel across Steve’s inner forearm.

Steve watched the blood blossom. It hurt like hell, but he was determined not to show it. Keane read his eyes, though, and laughed when he saw the pain in them. “You have to have a bit of a sadistic side to be a surgeon,” he said. “I have to admit… Part of me like this part the best. The patient awake, squirming, helpless – gives me a bit of an adrenaline high, I think. Hmm, should we experiment with that?” Keane reached across Steve and dragged the scalpel down that arm, too. His smile widened. “Yes, that makes me feel good.”

Steve wished he had the energy to headbutt the man right then and there. “Where’s the rest of my team?”

Keane chuckled. “You’re worried about your friends while I’m doing this to you?” Keane used the scalpel to cut through Steve’s uniform, revealing his chest. With the precision of an artist, he cut a heart-shaped incision into Steve’s chest, just above his actual heart. “I like this part, too. The part where I get to decide what happens next. Should I put one of Dr. Banner’s ligaments into your arm to see if it makes you stronger? Should I slice off a bit of Thor’s brain to see the magic in it? Or should I just have fun playing with you?” Steve couldn’t hold in a yelp when the scalpel suddenly stabbed into his abdomen, right between his ribs, nicking his left lung.

“Oh boy,” said a new voice, and both Steve and Keane looked up at the ceiling. “You should not have done that.” In a flash of falcon wings, Sam descended from the ceiling just as Iron Man kicked down the door and Nat and Clint dropped from the windows. The roof shook. A laser sliced through, and War Machine crashed down right on top of Keane’s computer. The doctor truly must have been addicted to the sensation of causing pain to someone because in that moment – his last – he chose to stab the scalpel one more time, this time into Steve’s heart, which he did a second before three bullets from three different directions intercepted him.

Cap screamed. He used what little energy he had to rip the scalpel out of his chest, a moment before he remembered that you were supposed to leave the damn thing in. He knew he was in trouble when the blood seeped instead of spouted. There was so little of it left… And he was suddenly so very tired… And his heartbeat was going so. Very. Slow…

Tony appeared above him, suit-less. He was saying something, repeating Steve’s name, probably something comforting or encouraging. Steve was glad to have a friend with him in that minute as the rest of the blood drained from him. Steve took one last deep breath and finally – finally – allowed his eyes to close.

---------

Tony was there again – still? – when Steve opened his eyes. He was looking at Cap with the same expression, saying his name again, asking questions Steve didn’t understand. Then people Steve didn’t know escorted Tony aside and doctors in lab coats started prodding him. Briefly, Steve thought that Keane had him again – still? – and almost lashed out at the similar lab coats. But then he heard Tony’s voice, still nearby, just out of eyesight, and he knew he was all right.

Time passed. He drifted. And then Tony was there again with a smile and an ice cube. Cap had never been so thirsty in his life. “You’re in the hospital.” This time Steve understood Tony. “You’re ok.”

Steve nodded. “You’re ok?” he croaked.

Tony nodded. “Everything’s ok.”

The End

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shaydeoffical · 4 years

Text

Bright as a Diamond. Hitoshi Shinsou x Fem Reader: Chapter Two

Summary: When (Y/N)’s co-worker decided to send a picture of her making a diamond to the paper, her life was over. Gemstone based quirks weren’t all that rare, but being able to make a diamond put a target on her back. After years of hiding in the city, it’s time to hide in the countryside with her Uncle Shota Aizawa and his more than ‘roommate’ Hizashi Yamada. With the promise of training her to be self-sufficient, she’s ready to learn.

Edit: Deadass left the “chapter one” in the title for like a week when this is chap two, oops. Also, I had a read more and that didn't work. Sorry Family <3 Also I realized my flashbacks are not in ilatics, but I think you can infer as you read. I’ll try to fix that for next time.

Chapter One: https://ambershaydeoffical.tumblr.com/post/190764312269/bright-as-a-diamond-chapter-one-hitoshi-shinsou-x

Chapter Three:

https://ambershaydeoffical.tumblr.com/post/611141904327983104/bright-as-a-diamond-hitoshi-shinsou-x-fem-reader

Chapter Two

Before You Can Walk

Uncle Shota had sent off my furniture choices to the store, and now I was to get ready in the outfit he had provided for me. It was in a black case with an intricate white swirl on the top. To most people, I looked like a confident and polished young woman, on her way to the top. In truth, my mother dressed me every morning, and I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror for longer than a few seconds to check my hair.

My body wasn’t exactly typical, with my weight sitting in the places I hated the most…well, I hated it all. Maybe my thighs were okay, and my ass was great, but my breasts were nearly untamable.

Inside the case was a camo tracksuit, a white tee, and a pair of tight bike shorts that went under the pants or were interchangeable for summer months. The shoes were red sneakers that went up to my ankle. The red contrasted the camo, but I suppose it was a safety thing, so I didn’t pass out and just blended in.

Luckily for me, the outfit was made of a poly-cotton blend, and it was stretchy. The shirt clung tighter to my chest then I wanted, but the short sleeve jacket was loose, and the pants fit just right. I pulled the top part of my hair back and made a ponytail. Half up and half down hair was my daily go too, so it didn’t make sense to change that for training.

When I exited the bathroom, Shota was nowhere to be found. “Hizashi, where is Shota?” I found the blonde pouring over his music player, geeking out.

“Oh, he said you had to make it to the road without being caught.” Hizashi paused his music and chuckled. “I know his methods are weird, but he’ll make you’re a master of self-defense.”

“I’m supposed to run through the forest and get to the road. Without being caught?” I frowned, looking out the door. “How long has he been gone?”

“Not too long. Look at it like capture the flag, and have some fun.” He handed me a water bottle. “You better get going before he gets bored.”

“Okay, um, thanks.” I tuck the water into my pocket and start to walk outside.

I wasn’t really the running type. Even when bad things had come my way, I was more of a hider. Still, Shota knew what he was doing, I had to trust his judgment. Training took two people trusting the other not to go too far.

Slowly jogging, I made it to the tree line and focused on a steady rhythm of breathing. The natural debris from autumn was causing some issues. I kept curling my ankle on walnuts and kicking limbs up and cutting the opposite ankle. Part of getting stronger was getting hurt. I knew that still, it wasn’t pleasant.

Keeping my eyes peeled, I knew I could be jumped at any moment. Anxiety chewed through my muscles as I ran faster with longer strides. Of course, I wanted to pass my first test, but I really didn’t want to be at the business end of Shota’s capture weapon.

A few minutes in, I stumbled forward, landing on my knees. Not taking a moment to rest, I kept going, pushing harder. I just had to get going.

Parched lips. Unable to keep my head up. The constant hum of the motor.

Stopping suddenly, I grasped my water and downed half the bottle. Hiding between two trees, I glanced around and took in my surroundings. Something rustled in the distance, and I put the bottle back in my pocket. I saw Shota running through the trees, and I stayed quiet until he was out of sight.

Now that he was ahead of me, I took a moment and breathed. Closing my eyes, I contently leaned on the tree and steadied my body. The aches were starting to set in, and I contemplated laying down and just taking a short break.

Something grasped my love handles. Yelping, I got out of the grip and turned. No one was there. Again I was clutched; this time, I could see the hands holding my midsection and pulling me down. I broke free and swiveled to catch a glimpse of the person responsible.

“Cut it out!” I demanded, wrapping my hands around my stomach, and spinning around in circles. “Shota, this isn’t cool. I don’t like being-“I screamed again, this time there was a long pull on my jacket, bringing me to the earth. “Stop it.” I shivered.

Shivering. So cold and sterile. My blood was freezing into ice cubes. I try to pass them off as the real deal.

Curling into my knees, I grabbed my hair and took even breaths. Someone hovered over top of me, it wasn’t Shota’s shoes. My heart racing, this wasn’t a game. Grabbing my water bottle. I chucked it at the person and ran. Not like I had before but with real purpose this time.

The chase was on footsteps right behind me. I didn’t have a reason to look back, so I kept going. “Uncle Sho!” I cried for help, reaching a small hill, I skidded down the slope and kept going. “UNCLE SHO HELP!” Even louder then before, I couldn’t breathe and scream at the same time. Pumping my legs faster, I saw the road in the distance. Then a tight rope coiled around my waist. I screamed.

Airborne in an instant, I was dangling from a tree. Kicking my legs to stop the spinning. It was no use. My hands were bound with my hips, and I was useless. Like always.

“I thought you’d be better than that.” A boy a little older than me was holding the other end of the scarf. He didn’t look it, but he must have been keen to hoist me into the air so nonchalantly. Obviously, he was arrogant and a prick. Who could do this to someone and not get the ‘screaming for help’ as a sign to stop?

“Did Shota put you up to this or do you like to toy with girls in the forest,” I spat, seeing stars the faster I twirled around.

“I don’t know.” He let go of the scarf and caught it just before I hit the ground.

“Oh, my God.” I got my feet under me and stood. “That was sadistic. What the hell is wrong with you?” I wobbled but turned to face the ass. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“I see you met Hitoshi Shinsouu.” Shota appeared from the road, lazily yawing. “Shinsouu is my protegee; I asked him to help with today’s exercise.”

“Did you instruct him to kill me?” I barked, only to be lifted off my feet and sent spinning. “Stop! What’s wrong with you?”

“You look like a pinata,” Shinsouu stated, keeping me from touching the ground. With each spin, I could see his smirk…what a-ugh.

“That’s enough, Shinsou; she’s learned her lesson.” Shota leaned down to my level, now that I was resting on my knees. “What do you think that was about?”

“Just because someone’s your protégée doesn’t give them the right to scare me.” I offered meekly, sending a glare at the purple-haired boy, who seemed uncaring at this point.

“No. He did as I instructed.” Shota sighed, untangling me from the scarf. “Just because you know there is one villain, doesn’t mean there aren’t more. Never let your guard down, and certainly never just sit there as it’s happening.”

“I thought it was you at first,” I argued, fighting against the ropes.

“Even me. In these simulations, we need to treat it like the real thing.” He plucked a leaf from my hair and helped me up. “Now, let’s get ready for the run back.”

“Wait, we’re going again?” I screeched, rubbing my sore sides.

“You got a three-minute head start. Go.” I didn’t waste a second more, taking off past Shinsouu, sending him a glare.

It went on like that for hours. It mostly ended with Shinsouu hanging me up by my ankles, waist, or once by my knees. He also pinned me in a tackle a few times, going as far as to snicker. After a while, I knew that Shota had stopped chasing me, and just enjoyed the show. Time after time of me trying to make it back to the road or the house and falling just short. My best attempt was when I hid close to the starting point and walked behind them and hid when they turned around. It was foiled when I saw a mouse and screamed.

No longer running, I shuffled my feet towards the house. Dragging my ankles, I reached the small hill that had become the bane of my existence, and I tripped over my own feet. Unable to catch my balance, I fell. My body crashing down the slope, banging with each bump.

Shinsouu crashed his body with mine, slowing the speed but getting himself into my tumble. Not knowing what to do with his stupid strong arms, he wrapped them around me, probably to cop a feel.

“You alright?” He asked when we stopped, pressing my head to his chest. He probably got off to being squished being under me like that.

“Fine, you caught me again. Don’t rub it in.” I sniffled, frustrated with my progress. I couldn’t keep upright, and now everything hurt.

“That’s enough for today,” Shota jumped down from a limb and helped Shinsouu up than me. I stumbled into his arms and cried tears of relief.

“Really?” I rubbed my tears into his black shirt.

“Now, you just need to run back home, we won’t chase you this time.” Shota chuckled, and I pulled away from him in disbelief.

“You’re sadistic too, no wonder you both get along.” I crossed my arms over my bruised chest. My mother’s image flashed through my mind, and I sighed. “Fine, if I’m going to run home, I should get one more chance to outrun you two.” I squared my shoulders and took off.

Instead of heading straight, I zig-zagged through the trees, running at an angle. I had my second and third winds hours earlier, but I managed to keep myself going at a decent speed.

After running this drill so many times, I knew what was more successful. Once they caught sight of me, it was over. So I just needed to stay hidden and keep a low profile. The forest was denser the way I was running now, and I could take more small breaks. A few more meters and I would be in the back garden, safe and sound.

“(y/n),” Hizashi was yelling for me. “You win, come home.” It was off. The voice was in the opposite direction of the house.

I knew that Present Mic had a booming voice, but why was he using it now. The sun was starting to set, and I had skipped lunch, so my tummy was rumbling…maybe he cooked- “It’s a trick, I know it.” I settled it in my mind and kept running.

A few minutes passed, and I wasn’t in the back garden. Hizashi had been calling me for a while, but I could no longer hear him. Maybe I was stupid… perhaps I was lost.

“What to do when lost?” I plopped down and tugged my lower lip. “Sit still. Check. Start a fire?” There wasn’t much sun left, but I gathered a few twigs and focused on my quirk. Making diamonds had got me into trouble, but it was the coals I needed right now.

Making several fiery coals, I sat them in my fire pit and encouraged the flames to grow by fanning them. Now I had a few diamonds floating my pocket and a warm fire to fend off the autumn chill. I would have killed to still have a little water with me, but I had to toss it at Shinsouu earlier. He deserved it.

“There you are,” Shota sighed, pointing a flashing light on my campsite after a few minutes of smoke being in the air. “Great work with the fire. That was smart thinking.” He complimented me, patting my head.

“Where is Shinsouu and Hizashi?” I asked, putting out the fire.

“They’re probably headed home now.” He started walking off, and I followed behind him.

“Sorry, I did so bad today,” I remembered how lackluster my performance was.

He stopped before going again. “You did better then I thought you would. I can tell you relay more on your fight response then flight. We can use that to our advantage; today was useful.”

“Did you have to bring Shinsouu in? He’s so so rude. I hate to be so brash about your friend, but he was also so rough.”

“I thought you two would hit it off.” He held a thorn-covered branch back so I could pass. “He’ll be useful in your training, and vise versa. Can you manage to get along for me?”

“I won’t like it, but I can tolerate anything for you, Uncle Sho.” I sounded like a brat but was too tired to care.

“Let’s get home.”

#shinsou hitoshi #erasermic #shinsou x reader #hitoshi x reader #bright as a diamond #ambershaydeoffical #bnha #mha #my hero #my hero academia #reader #dad aizawa #bnha x reader

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missinsanityscat · 4 years

Text

Gone beyond hell

Yuki-Onna!Yukie × Male!Reader

They said it was going to be fun, they also said it would be super easy to tow a woman. You groan and order a drink. Your friends had attacked you in your apartment 2 hours ago, where you pursued your thoughts in self-pity. The reason? Your girlfriend had left you and your two friends Bokuto and Kuroo wanted to cheer you up. Now you are sitting in your thickest winter jacket at the counter of this Ice Cube Bar. Although there was a pleasant atmosphere here, the cold annoyed you. "Have you been left alone?" Asked a bored voice next to you. You turn your head towards the voice and recognize the woman Bokuto warmly welcomed when you arrived. "You could say so. Yukie? ”The woman smiled lazily and nodded. "Yes. You were (Y / N)? “You nod and reach for the glass that is placed in front of you. "You work here?" You asked slightly stupidly, but the woman nods. "More specifically, it belongs to my parents. I take care on the weekends that nothing bad happens. "" Cool. "You say, scratch your chin which is strewn with stubble. Yuki yawns warmly and pointed up. "I'm hungry do you want to come up with me?"

No idea what rode you there, but what you agree with. Yukie quickly explained to her colleague that she would eat something with you and that you would come back. "Follow me (Y / N)." You followed her, strutting her out of the room and taking a flight of stairs. Only now did you notice how lightly Yuki was dressed. "Aren't you celebrating in it?" Yuki looked at himself and shook his head. "I like it that way most." Then she unlocked the door and let you enter. No sooner had you stepped through the door than you started to shiver easily. It was cold, colder than in the bar. You can feel hands on your back that are slowly coming down. "So ~" the young woman started behind you, taking off your jacket. "You won't need this."

She threw the jacket to the floor and the rustling of fabric that also went to the floor. You quickly turn and blush slightly when the smaller woman was standing naked in front of you. You take a look over them walking. Yuki is truly a beautiful woman, she is quite your type. "Do you like what you see?" She asked, slightly bored, her eyes on your crotch. "I thought you were hungry?" "Am I" Yuki hair grew longer and her skin turned white. "But I prefer men." You wanted to move, but you couldn't. You look down to your legs in confusion. You are horrified to find that you were frozen. "What the .." you started, interrupting yourself when Yuki tampered with your pants. "What?" Yuki looks up at you and licks her lips lazily. "First I will have some fun and then I will freeze you and eat it gradually." You swallow the dumpling down your throat. "Do you really want to eat me?" Your voice trembles slightly, you don't feel as masculine as you should be. Yuki looked briefly at you before pulling down your pants and boxers. "Well, if you prove yourself capable, I could let you live."

Slowly you feel your limbs again and Yuki took your hand in hers. Her hand was so cold that you would like to warm it, but you were horrified that you could be eaten. "Did you joke with the food?" "I never joke about the food, (Y / N)." She opened the door to the room and pushed yourself into the room. "You willn't miss out, sweetie ... I even think you will get your money's worth." Her hand was on your chest and she smiled lazily at you, her other hand slowly moves to your hip. You two are still looking at each other. You swallow while her hand slowly moves down. The snow woman's smile widened, but your breath went a little faster and your little friend stirred a little. "That was easy." She said and got on her knees. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She gently nudged your limb with her warm tongue, which makes you shiver. Her tongue came out hot from the sheer cold in the room. With wide eyes she looked up at you as she carefully kissed your glans and licked your length along. You groan as a warm, damp warmth envelops you. "Shit." You gasp, swallowing wanted to grasp your hair, but you were too afraid that she could bite your best piece.

Yuki sucked hard on your glans, gently massaging your ball. She stopped briefly and looked up at you. "You can hold my head." She saw you briefly, you do not waste a second to reach into her fine shiny hair. You gently moved your hip, stroking her cheek. "It feels so good." You moan as you put your head back. You could feel a slight grin pushing her into her mouth faster. You felt incredibly good, the fear that overran you evaporated in lust. Completely immersed in ecstasy, you only felt the tremor in your legs very slightly, which announces that you are about to spray. "I'm close to it." You gasp, becoming more gentle and slow with the movements. Yuki sucked and played your cock with her warm wet tongue. "You can come into my mouth." The snow woman allowed you and sucked harder, gripped your buttocks. However, you grasp her head hard, move your hips quickly, and come moaning into her mouth. You sigh in relief, stroking Yuki hair, the woman on her knees licked you clean before she went up to the trash can and spat into it. "Interesting taste." She said as she went to bed. The brunette woman sat on it with her legs spread wide and looked at you. "Now shows if it's not worth eating, sweetheart."

Incubus!Bokuto x Female!Reader

Bokuto sighed as he wandered through the night. He lowered his head, feeling weak and hungry. He looked at the house he was passing. The young demon felt a woman who slept peacefully. He quickly wanted to continue walking, but his stomach started to growl. "You have to do it. If you don't consume life energy, you can die.” He heard Akaashi's voice in his head. The huge demon looked at the window where the woman's room was. She was young, probably in her mid-20s, for what he could sense. Bokuto bit his lip and swore. "Fuck it. I'll take as much as I need. ”He closed his eyes briefly and teleported into the woman's room. He swallowed when he saw her in front of him.

You breathed calmly, your sleep shirt had slipped up and your body was half-covered with the blanket. A delightful sight, Bokuto licked his lips. He felt his shorts tighten. He heard you gasp slightly, watching your hand slowly move to your panties. "Oh ... this is going to be easier than expected.", Bokuto mumbles, closing his eyes to concentrate to come to your dream.

In dream

You sigh as another person sat down next to you. "Hey.", said the man next to you, his voice like bass and you are sorry to see him. Big golden eyes looked honestly at you and his smile showed a row of shining teeth. "New here?", he asked you innocently and you shyly nodded. "Me too, my name is Bokuto and yours is?" "(Y / N). I'm happy." You shake hands. "Oiii Saeko, a beer for the man next to me. " You called after the bar owner. "Thank you for the beer (Y/N)." "Oh no problem, originally I wanted to do a girls night out with my best friend but she canceled." Bokuto accepted the beer. "My boss made me go out." You turn your head to him and looked him in the eye in surprise. "Crass color. They aren't contact lenses, are they?" “That is my real eye color… ”He let a look sweep over you. "... Nice hair." He said shortly and scratched his chin. Yes, he was always good at flirting, after all, he had learned from Master. You twitched the corner of your mouth and shook your head. "Thank you ... requires a lot of care ... Don't worry, I can't flirt either. ” You grin broadly and take another sip of your mug. "Cool ... what do you do for a living?" Bokuto asked you as he sipped his beer.

"I plan to take over the world with diabetes." You were completely serious and looked at him like that. "Then I have to find a way to stop you." Both of you narrowed your eyes until you giggled. "I'm a confectioner." You said and took the last sip of your beer. "What are you doing?" "I'm studying sports." You nodded remarkably, ordered another beer. "I thought women like athletes." Bokuto said insultingly, but you shrugged and looked at him from the side. "You're trying to hit on me?" You chuckled, resting your head on your hand.

"I should probably go. Saeko! The bill.” “It's late… I can take you home.” You look at him suspiciously. "If you pay." Bokuto shrugged and took your bill. He looked at the paper, raised an eyebrow in surprise. "When did you eat?" "My plate was taken away before you spoke to me." You slid off the chair, but you swayed a little and grabbed his arm. "Uff ... I should have eaten more." Bokuto smiled lightly and paid the bill. "I'll take you home." "I live only 2 blocks away." You mumbled, embarrassed. "That's good, then you'll be home faster." You nodded sheepishly and staggered out of the bar with Bokuto in tow. You shivered and pulled your hoodie closer to your body. "Do you want my coat?" The gray-haired man had noticed your shiver and took off his coat, but you shook your head. "I'll pass, Bokuto." You look at the sky and grabbed his arm. "Thank you for taking me home." You said quietly. You were sad and Bokuto could see in your glassy eyes and continued walking silently to the apartment building. You stopped at your door, Bokuto took your face in his hand. He leaned down to you and cocked his head. "Don't be sad." "Thank you ... I ..." You couldn't finish your sentence because the athlete pressed his rough lips against yours. He kissed you, hoping that your pain would go away, that you would feel better. You didn't seem to be averse to him, otherwise, you would have loosened the kiss immediately, so he pressed against your delicate body. He felt your hands on his back as you pulled him closer. "Do you want to come up with me?" You asked him hoarsely when you released the kiss because you ran out of air. Bokuto, who still had his hand on your cheek, nodded slightly. "With pleasure."

Bokuto swallowed slightly when he watched you go. You wiggle your butt slightly. "We're here." You say shyly, let him through first. He ran unerringly into your ...

Dream end

You startled when someone laid down on you. Completely surprisingly, you gasped and looked up. Golden eyes stared at you. Bokuto looked around uncertainly. He couldn't, he didn't have enough strength to stay in your dream. The young demon jumped up from your bed and wanted to go. "Bokuto?" You asked confused so that he stopped. You look at him in the dark, see a shadow on his head. "You are not a person are you?" You ask as quietly as possible, groping for your night light. It was getting lighter in the room, now you could see each other better. He had small horns on the corners of his forehead, a tail, and wings. You tilted your head and he turned away, showing you his wings. "Yes", it came from him after a while. You sit up and knock your bed free. "What kind of a being are you? You are still an Oni or Tengu." "Incubus.", he said as he approached, sat on the bed and looked ashamed. "Oh ... so ... did you want to?" "Yes ... I don't like doing it, but I need the energy to survive." You look down at yourself and blush. "I want to help you." Bokuto looked up at you and considered it for a moment. "OK! I'm not taking so much ... just a little.” He leaned over to you, carefully took your face in his hand and kissed you carefully. His lips felt better than in your dream. He nibbled lightly on your lower lip, hastily thrust his tongue between your lips. He poked your tongue as a slight provocative invitation to play with him. You gasped slightly as he sucked your tongue and his hands wandered over your body. You separated from each other and he looked deep into your eyes. "You can still say no." He said wandering over your damp panties. His doing had an effect on your body, you nodded very carefully. He lowered his head to your shoulder, ran a finger over your wet center, elicited more beautiful tones from your pretty mouth. He rubbed your clit and smiled at you as you clawed his shoulder and your pussy stretched out towards him. "We need to be very needy." "Very much." You moan into his t-shirt as his finger strokes your G-spot. "I feel that you will soon be ready to ... Shall I fuck you or hand my skills over to you?" He growled softly and looked wildly in your eyes. The white in his eyes had darkened, the gold stood out more than before, his horns grew larger and more imposing. "Yo..u are s.. so beau..tiful" you gasped and came softly in his hand. Bokuto looked at his hand and looked at the liquid in his hand. He tapped it with his tongue and licked it up. He felt better than before and looked at you. You laid sweaty on your pillow and looked embarrassed to the side. You got in your panties and the demon looked at you. "Thanks." He said and got up. "If you are hungry again ... you are welcomed to come over ..." you smile and see how he changed the look. "Thank you (y / m) and now sleep ... We will see each other again."

#haikyuu x reader #male!reader #female!reader #bokuto #shirofuku yukie #monster #incubus #yuki onna #haikyuu smut

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always5hineee · 3 years

Text

Hell and Back- Chapter 42: Game Master (Trials 90-100)

Word count: 2403

Chapter warnings: Mild language, themes

-----

Their next trial was exactly the same. All that happened was the number switched from 89 to 90. It honestly had her wondering if there ever really were trials where they had earned skips, or if the game simply knew who it intended to die. She was questioning the power behind it. It was already strange that they'd be able to give her, as they'd stated, whatever she wanted. She remembered that offer.

You have been given the opportunity to make a wish. The wish can be anything, quite literally. Do not underestimate our capabilities by making a trivial request. If we so choose, you may be invited to earn this wish. You are under no obligation should your wish be selected. You may only wish once.

It was ridiculous. It was so ridiculous, she had chosen to partake. At the time, it seemed like a blessing. Now it was a living nightmare, one she wasn't quite sure she'd be able to fix. She had yet to tell anyone of her deception regarding the wish as well. Before, she'd figured that they'd be supportive, but... now that people were dead? The likelihood decreased with every carcass. Even if they were going to forgive her, would there be anyone left to do so by the end? They were in the final stretch now, but her hope was draining.

It took them nearly a two full days to find the room they were meant to come upon. In walking through the doors, they first found similar rooms, then mazes like they had previously, (although this time, they were sans Kris's fireworks to see them through). Not only that, but Kris's leg was barely functional. He tried to reassure them that he could handle it, but putting stress on him wouldn't help anyone. They would take turns helping him along as he leaned on them. They would have carried him, but he would have found it humiliating, not to mention his weight being a significant factor.

They ran out of diet supplementary pulls by the end of the first day. Of course, they didn't know if it was actually night or not, but they did know when they became too tired to continue on. No one knew how long they slept, and no one said much. Kris tried to make his usual shitty jokes, but they honestly just came off as mean, so he cut it out. The same happened with Baekhyun's goofy attitude- he was finding it harder and harder. to even bother smiling at this point. Xiumin continued making them ice cubes as they walked. It wasn't the most hydrating, but it was better than the alternative.

When they finally found the room, it was like discovering Atlantis. It wasn't that there was anything particularly comforting about it, but it meant the end of their trek through this decrepit nightmare of epic proportions, a chance to finally finish this. 2 days was the longest they'd spent on any trial, and it was fantastic to be out of it.

When they arrived, it looked to be just a gigantic room, bigger than the vat room, with barely anything in it. The black tiled floor stretched for what could have been a half a mile, with a raised platform and stairs descending from it in the center. Walking in, she looked around in awe. There were no pathways, doors, anything besides the structure and the floor beneath her. Venturing out into the room, the other boys looked around as well, but didn't seem to draw attention to anything unusual.

Out of nowhere, the floor dropped from around them, almost like a shitty video game graphic. Tiles sank into a deep black pit, down which none of them could see anything. It left them separated, spread lightly around the room. They were close enough that they could hear each other, but not so they could jump to each others... what seemed to be pillars of sorts? She looked back to the door, searching for any way out of this, uncertain of checking her phone.

"Boo!" A voice said suddenly from behind them, causing them all to spin. Standing above them on a platform, attacked to stairs and a runway, was a hooded figure. He was backlit by the room, and his robes hung around him in droves. "It's so nice to finally meet you!" He said like a young fan, obviously cheery. He lifted his hands, slender fingers peeking out from under the sleeves, to remove his hood, pulling the crease of the robe behind him so his legs were more free.

He wasn't anyone that Y/N could ever recall seeing before. He was surprisingly young, and of similar height to Baekhyun, although clearly younger. His hair was dark and fell in soft waves over his face, nearly concealing the strange glint in his eyes. His jawline was strong, but subtle enough as it curved his face, smooth skin stretching over the expanse of the portion of his body that was revealed. Although he was technically still wearing the robe, with the hood pulled down and the folds pushed back behind him, she saw that he was dressed fairly casually in actuality, maybe even more stylishly than average.

"Who are you?" Kris growled, confirming her suspicions that this was not someone familiar to them.

"It's none of your business." The man said with a shrug, nonchalantly walking down the stairs from his own platform onto the runway that ran through all of theirs. "I've had such a fantastic time watching you." His lips plumping into a pout, he said, "I was hoping that last little trial would have taken more of you out. It seems like I'm going to have to settle for Xiumin."

"Xiumin?" Baekhyun demanded, still defensive, "What's wrong with him?"

"Oh, nothing technically. It won't be much longer now, though." The man laughed. Xiumin had seemed weaker, but they'd thought nothing of it... Thinking back to Lay, though, that was naive. Was it a similar situation? Was he sick? Seeing the glance of confusion on her face, the man held out his arms as if offering them a generous gift. "What? If you're that clueless, I suppose I'll explain. Unless...?" He asked, looking to the man in question, as if offering for him to explain on his own. He simply looked to the ground.

"Alright, then! You see, Xiumin's power relies on drawing water from his environment to crystallize into ice. Of course, in light of this, I had to make absolutely certain there was none of that to be had. Of course, I didn't plan on giving you water once you got in here anyway, so it wasn't too difficult. That left him with only a few options once you idiots started demanding it from him. Take it from the air, which- I'm not even certain the random hydrogens and oxygens would have been enough, and even if they were, he could risk suffocating everyone in the process. He could take it from you, which would have defeated the purpose, or..." She looked to him as she realized, the man finishing her thought.

"He can get it from himself."

"Xiumin," she muttered, looking at his frame. With the context available, she began seeing gate specific indications. His cheeks were no longer soft and rounded as they had been, but now sinking just slightly into his face. His lips were cracked and he seemed tired.

"Honestly, I'm surprised he's managed to hang on for this long," The man said with a congratulatory tone. "The same really goes for all of you. You're actually my first test run of this little game! I was a bit worried when you came in with such a diverse set of powers. I had to plan the challenges very meticulously. I was mostly worried about Tao and Lay, but they honestly dealt with themselves! It was hilarious to-"

"Shut up! You don't get to talk about them like that." Kris seethed, glaring daggers into the man's body. He couldn't do anything, though.

"I 'get' to talk about you however I want." He stuck a tongue out childishly. "It's my game, after all. And I'm being generous! Is this so much to ask for one little wish? A wish for anything you could truly ever want?"

"Yes." He spat. "It is." Shrugging, the man posed,

"And yet you're still here. Which brings me to your last trials." He spun on his heel, gesturing outwards. "Welcome to the final room! Designed it myself. Technically, you have ten trials left to complete, nine when your pipsqueak over there kicks the bucket. Of course, I've realized that I've had to make this incredibly difficult for you all thus far, and as I said, you're a test run, so I'm willing to tweak the rules. So! I'll make you an offer." As he said this, a watch that she only just noticed he had on his wrist beeped quietly.

"Oh! Speak of the devil, fatality skip!" Pressing something, she felt her phone buzz, and sure enough, there was the notification.

Fatality skip: Trial 91

"Xiumin!" She shouted, looking over to him desperately. He was laying down on his own platform, not moving at all.

"That won't help you now, sweetheart." He said, walking on air over to Xiumin's platform. Was that his ability? Did he have more than one? He was outside of her realm of understanding to say the least. She watched helplessly as he removed the man's body from the platform by pushing it with his shoe, as if relocating a dead rat on the driveway. He did so with the same disgusted flick of his heel, turning away as his corpse fell into the abyss.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" She asked with tears now coursing down her face.

"Wrong? I'm doing you a favor, don't you forget!" He said looking at her like a consumer upset with their product. "Which brings me to my, as I said, generous offer. I'd like to just give you your prize now, but that's no fun, and I'm curious." Grinning ear to ear, he asked, "Just how good of friends are you, really?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kris growled.

"Ah, ah, calm down, I was getting there." Sitting down cross-legged on the runway, he held up a hand. "You," he pointed to Kris, "And you." He pointed to Baekhyun. "First one to fall off of the platform dies, obviously. Once one of you goes, I'll reward the wish. Or, we can all sit here and wait to see which one of you starves to death first."

"Why not me?" Y/N asked, looking at him helplessly. "Let me do it!" Pouting again, he shook his head.

"That's no good. You're player one! The crown jewel! The wish maker! I can't have you dying on me, yeah?" Waving his arm, he dismissed her, "You just sit tight. I want to see who's going to push who in." Kris and Baekhyun locked eyes. Their platforms connected via tiled bridges, similar in material as to the floor when they'd first entered. They both walked down their pathways to meet in the center at a common pillar. The man in the robe watched intently as they looked to each other. Kris clearly had the advantage in height and weight class, but Baekhyun may be able to get an edge with agility and size. It was anyone's guess.

"I'll go." Kris said with a sigh.

"No! You can't do that!"

"Baek, I'm hurt. If he were to do anything else, I wouldn't be of any use to you."

"You can't die, Kris! We've made it this far, maybe we can-"

"You know we can't do anything to this maniac!" Kris shoved him lightly in insistence. "I want nothing more than to crush his stupid fucking skull, I know. But you've seen what he can do, and he's clearly deranged. We'll never win, especially not on his terms and in this state."

"But..."

"You think I want to die?" Kris laughed, shaking. "I've been trying to keep this from happening the whole damn time. Hell, I almost died getting here. So did you."

"Let me go. You'll take better care of Y/N. You're betraying he by leaving, and everyone who..." he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

"I just told you, I'm doing it, no questions." Kris shifted his weight off his bad leg. "It'll be okay, man, I promise." Puling Baekhyun into a hug, something she'd rarely ever seen him do in their entire time of knowing each other, he said, "Now get our wish and bring everyone back, okay?" Baekhyun nodded as tears fell down his face, causing his eyes to grow red. "Hey, don't cry on me. You'e always been such a baby." Lightly punching him in the arm as he sniffled, Baekhyun argued,

"You're literally crying, I don't wanna hear it." Kris pulled away from him, looking to Y/N and giving her a nod.

"Don't let this piece of shit win, okay?" He asked. She didn't know what to do, watching in awe as she gave a slight nod.

"Wait." Baekhyun said after he turned, holding out something. Looking down, Kris saw that it was the little stuffed animal he had taken as his item. They'd never needed it, but... somehow, in this moment, he was glad to have it.

"Thank you." He laughed looking at it and putting it in his pocket. Then, limping to the edge in only a couple steps on his bad leg, he paused. He wanted to turn around, to say goodbye again, but it wasn't going to get any easier. Taking in a deep breath he looked downwards, to where there was seemingly no end. Then, as he exhaled, he stepped off, not making a sound.

The man immediately began talking over Baekhyun's quiet crying and her choked noises of dread and incomprehensibility.

"Ugh, that was so boring, I thought you two were at least going to fight each other. Baekhyun! What if he had pushed you off the edge, hmm? What if it had been a trap?"

"I wanted to go, anyway." The boy muttered.

"Ah, whatever, a deal's a deal, I guess. I don't like breaking the rules." The man shrugged. "Anyway, I gave you your wish, you can go. Bye!"

Go to Chapter 43

#exo #exo x reader #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #kris #luhan #tao #kai #kyungsoo #sehun #suho #chen #chanyeol #xiumin #baekhyun #lay #kpop #Kpop x reader #Kpop fanfiction #Kpop fanfic #x reader #trials

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firstfandomfangirl · 4 years

Note

🎈!

Ok, so, this one is fresh in my mind as I sit in the house in which it took place at this very moment. It was my first day with this family, a little girl and her younger brother (C and F, respectively). C is 6, F is 2.

At about 2 PM in the afternoon, after trying and failing to an extent to resolve a spat between them, C suggested we hold a tea party. She produced a set of tiny porcelain dishes, to which I was suspicious about how well they would hold up, but given that the floor was carpeted I decided it would be alright.

The mom was still there due to it being my first day, and she said it was alright for them to have a snack during the tea party. C asked her mother if the dishes were clean, and I remember thinking “of course, why wouldn’t they be? They’re not for real food.”

Oh how wrong I was.

C grabbed some goldfish crackers (cupcake flavored) and iced animal crackers out of the pantry. I was suspicious about this, given that they are not allowed to have sweets during the day but C was trying at every opportunity to make me forget this, but they were both on the list of allowed snacks, so I said it was alright.

C doled out a set of dishes, a teacup, saucer, and spoon for F, me, and herself. She then filled the teapot with water. Standard tea party fare. Then she went to the fridge and retrieved a bottle of raspberry vinaigrette salad dressing. This is where it all went horribly wrong.

She filled the dish that i believe would be meant to hold sugar cubes with this salad dressing, as I could only watch with abject horror. She then heaped another container full of shredded cheese. I could do naught but watch- all these items were allowed.

C placed two goldfish crackers on each plate, then gently spooned some of the salad dressing over her own. She asked F if he would like some as well, and he accepted with great enthusiasm. C then sprinkled some cheese over both as well.

I just ate my goldfish crackers and stayed quiet. No way was I getting into that.

C also eats margarine straight from the container, just as a fun fact.

#ask meme #candy <3 #friendly ask

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euphoria-vmin7 · 5 years

Text

Gnossienne | myg

pairing: min yoongi x reader

genre/warnings: fluff for right now, non idol! au, future angst, future gore

words: 6,286

--summary: the thing you were most proud about in your relationship was the trust between you two. you could tell yoongi anything and he told you everything. that’s how it’s always been. and that’s how it’ll always be...right?

a/n: uhm trying something new here :) and there will be future parts to this so don't worry! enjoy!!

Gnossienne

gno·ssi·enne

n. a moment of awareness that someone you’ve known for years still has a private and mysterious inner life

****

| part 1 | part 2

If there’s one thing you prided about your relationship, it was the lack of lies. When your friends so eagerly bragged about how romantic their relationships were or complained about the lack of trust amongst them and their partners, you could easily say:

“Our relationship has no lies. We tell each other everything.”

And although it took a considerable amount of time for you and Yoongi to fully open up to each other, after almost a year had passed, you both knew everything about one another. And it was one of the things you loved most about your relationship, arguably even your favorite thing. It was just very reassuring, knowing that whenever you struggled with a problem, you could always go to Yoongi and tell him everything.

And that mutual trust you shared also served to eliminate a large majority of fights and arguments between you two. Of course, the two of you had your occasional lover’s spat but nothing ever went too awry. There were never any harsh words regarding neglect or any accusatory shouts of infidelity.

It was just you two.

So now as you twirled a piece of spaghetti around your fork listening to Seo Jin complain about how Minseok never talked about his social life, an easy smile played on your lips. You were already comparing your own boyfriend to the men your friends were describing.

“Well at least Minseok tells you about work. Jaehyun doesn’t tell me about work at all, either. I mean, I know men have their own private lives but sometimes I get nervous that he’s hiding something,” Min Seo replied, sighing sadly into her palm.

“Hey, why do you even think that way? Just because they don’t tell you everything doesn’t mean they don’t love you,” Eunha reprimanded. “Right, (Name)?”

You nodded with a barely repressed smile. Even after so long, just thinking of your relationship made you giddy. Seo Jin shot you a teasing smile.

“Well of course she thinks that. (Name) has Yoongi,”

You laughed a little, taking a sip of your drink.

“They never even fight!” Eunha said. “The trust you two have is amazing. You two should learn from their relationship,”

“Yeah yeah,” Min Seo responded with a wave of her hand, smiling.

“I envy you,” Seo Jin sighed, looking at you wistfully and you shoved her lightly. Though a part of you was filled with pride.

The four of you continued to chat animatedly until your dishes were clean and only melting ice cubes remained in your glasses. You glanced outside to see that the Sunday sun had long set and the moon was already shining in the sky. Min Seo spoke before you could.

“Well, I better get going,”

Eunha nodded.

“Yup. Thanks for tonight guys. I had a great time,”

The four of you smiled and bid your farewells as you exited the restaurant before splitting up to head your separate ways. You approached the bus stop and took a seat, pulling out your phone as the chilly night breeze washed over your skin. You were a little surprised at the number of notifications, though they were all missed calls and texts from the same person. Your lips stretched into a fond smile as you read the texts.

[5:46 p.m.] Grumpy: i’m coming home early today

[6:17 p.m.] Grumpy: huh? where are you? i’m home…

[6:54 p.m.] Grumpy: (Name). where are you right now?

[7:08 p.m.] Grumpy: oh crap...i forgot you were meeting your friends. have fun and text me when you’re on your way home

You giggled a little, quickly standing as the bus pulled up to the curb. You climbed on, flashing a quick smile to the driver and taking a seat near the back before starting to type your response.

[9:32 p.m.] (Name): sorry for not reminding you. didn’t mean to make you panic. i’m taking the bus now so i should be home in 20 :)

You shut your phone off before leaning your head back against the seat, letting the tiredness of the day wash over you. And just before you completely lulled off to sleep, you were awoken by the bus stopping in front of your familiar stop. You stood up and voiced a quick thank you to the driver, who bid you goodnight, and stepped out onto the street before beginning the quick walk to your apartment. A light smile played on your lips as you pushed the key in and unlocked the door, eager to see your boyfriend after such a long day. It still amazed you how excited you got around him even after this long. You stepped inside and shut the door behind you, pulling your shoes off slowly. Now that you were home, the tiredness rushed back amplified.

You walked to the living room and smiled when you saw your boyfriend lazily draped across the couch, clad in simple sweats and a black t-shirt, an empty bowl of assumably ramen on the floor. Some movie was playing on the T.V. but Yoongi’s eyes were lethargically scanning his phone screen. He looked up when he heard you set your bag down.

“Hey, baby,” he drawled, his lips curling up at the side. You smiled softly and took a seat next to him as he sat up.

“Hey,” you said back as he leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Hungry?” he asked, his arm tightening around you and pulling you closer to him. You shook your head in his embrace.

“No, I just ate,”

“Right,” he chuckled. “How was it?”

“Fun,” you replied, looking up at him with a light smile. You didn’t want to tell him that you spent a lot of time talking about your relationships, let alone bragging about him. He gave you a smile back, his eyes soft.

“Mm why don’t you go shower and change into something more comfortable?” he asked, motioning to your dress and you grimaced at the uncomfortable feeling of it.

“Good idea,” you said, standing up as he gently nudged you with his leg towards your room.

And after a quick shower and slipping into your typical PJs, you found yourself languidly spread across him as his fingers carded through your hair, lulling you to sleep.

“How was your day?” you mumbled against him, struggling to stay awake.

“Normal,” he sighed. “Just normal,”

“You don’t sound happy about it,” you answered, lazily tracing patterns on his shirt.

“It’s not that. I’m just saying it because nothing different ever happens in my life,” he paused. “But maybe that’s a good thing. I like this,” he muttered, and you smiled against him.

“Me too,”

His chuckle rumbled through his chest and soon enough the steady rise and fall of his chest had pulled you off to dreamland.

***

You pushed your boyfriend lightly, ignoring his quiet groans of protest.

“Yoongi~” you whined, pushing his shoulder harder, a smile on your face. “You have to get up,”

“No,” was all you got back and you suppressed a giggle.

“Okay fine but I’m leaving. Don’t be late for work,” you warned, pressing a kiss to his fingers before standing up, catching the smile that twitched his lips.

“I love you,” he mumbled, eyes still closed. And after it all, you still had it in you to blush.

“I love you, too,”

You sat at your desk, your computer screen glaring into your face. Despite having work to do, you didn’t feel up to it at all. You sighed in boredom as you began to scribble on a scrap piece of paper, your mind wandering. You heard the sound of a chair being rolled over to you and someone sighed.

“What if he’s cheating on me?” Min Seo asked you, scooching her chair closer. You chuckled.

“He’s not. Trust me. You and Jaehyun have had feelings for each other for a long time. There’s no way he’s cheating on you. He loves you,”

“But he’s so secretive about things and it makes me nervous,” she complained. “Maybe I should try looking through his stuff-”

“Don’t you dare,” you warned sternly. “If he finds out you did that it’s gonna go badly for both of you. You have to trust him. And if it’s really bothering you, then be open and talk to him about it. But I’m totally sure he’s not cheating on you. Jaehyun’s a good guy; he’d never do something like that to you,”

“You think so?” she asked with a hopeful smile. You nodded.

“You’re worrying over nothing,”

“Yeah,” she paused. “From what I remember, Yoongi was a pretty closed off guy. How did you two open up to each other anyway?”

You stopped to think.

“It’s didn’t happen in the first week. Heck, it didn’t even happen in the first month. We didn’t tell each other a lot for a while. But over time, you’ll end up realizing that you can trust him with anything. And he’ll see it too and then you’ll find yourself telling each other everything. Just give yourselves some time. It’ll get better. You both are still in a fairly new relationship anyway. If you start doubting him now, everything’s gonna fall apart,”

She nodded.

“You’re right. Thanks, (Name),”

As she rolled away, you couldn’t help but remember one of the first serious conversations you had with Yoongi.

You still remember like it was yesterday. You were cuddled up on your couch watching some old flick on T.V. Yoongi walked in, phone in his hand.

“Pizza or Chinese?” he had asked. You shrugged.

“Your choice,”

“Chinese it is,” he smiled and began dialing the number. You couldn’t help but smile back. You two were around 9 months into your relationship but by heaven, if you said you didn’t know that you already loved him, you’d be lying.

After answering the door and getting the food he joined you on the couch, allowing you to rest into his side as his arm looped around you. In between munching, you considered telling him your thoughts, but a part of you was slightly nervous. You two hadn’t really talked much about your families and inner personal lives. The first few months had been the two of you getting used to each other, learning interests and dislikes and what each daily schedule comprised of. But you pushed away the hesitation because this was Yoongi. You loved him. You could trust him.

“Something on your mind?” he had asked before you could even speak. The fact that he could already tell was comforting. Because it told you that he knew you. He really knew you.

“Actually, yeah,” you said scooching closer as you put down your food.

“What’s wrong?”

You hesitated but continued.

“My parents are pissed that I took the job,” you said, trying to ignore the slight sting of the words. “They kept telling me that the pay wouldn’t get me anywhere and now they’re angry that I went against their advice,”

He hummed in thought.

“Did you try talking to them?”

“After we talked last, my mom said she wasn’t gonna help me with any financial problems and that this was my life to deal with now. They aren’t picking up my calls,” you admitted quietly. He gave you a slight squeeze.

“Well...the best thing you can do is work to prove them wrong. You wanted this job. Who cares if it doesn’t pay a lot? Just as long as you can get by and you’re happy it’s fine. Okay? They’ll come around. Don’t worry too much about it,” he said and you nodded a little, snuggling into him.

“Yeah, you’re right. I know they’re only being like this because they care about me. What about you? Do your parents ever do things like this?”

You had asked without thinking. And that was a mistake. Because Yoongi stiffened above you and went silent.

“My parents aren’t alive anymore,” he responded and you immediately raised your head to look at him, eyes wide with horror. He chuckled dryly.

“I...I am so sorry, Yoongi, I really had no idea oh my-”

“(Name). It’s not that big of a deal. It happened a long time ago. I’m over it,” he replied with a wave of his hand. But how does someone get over something like that?

“Plus, you shouldn’t even be apologizing. I never told you this. You didn’t know,” he shrugged, but you could see the pain behind his eyes.

“H-How….how did they…?” you tried asking, nervous that he’d get upset. He looked up.

“Uhm...car accident. When I was 16,”

“Oh god, Yoongi, I’m so sorry,” you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him, heart aching for his loss.

“No, it’s okay. I’m fine, sweetheart,” he muttered into your hair. “I have you,”

When you thought of that, you wondered how the world could be so cruel. Nobody deserved such things, especially not Yoongi. He had always been such a good person. Sure, at first, he may have came off as a bit cold and indifferent, but over time as you got to know him you had discovered the loving and sweet side of him reserved only for you. So the fact that he had been totally alone since 16 made you so upset.

“Excuse me! (Name), what are you dreaming about?! This is work not home!”

You snapped out of your revere as one of your seniors began waving in front of your face.

“I apologize! What did you need me to do?”

She pushed a notebook into your hands.

“There’s a new report we’re trying to start. We got a call about a disturbance at this address. The lady on the phone thinks it’s gangsters but honestly, it’s probably just a robber or something. But I want you to go and ask her some questions and try to make an interesting article. Make it something cool and interesting,”

You paused, looking at her.

“You want me to lie and write a fake story?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Sales are low this month, alright? I don’t care what you write, we just need more publicity. People would rather read things about gangsters than an old lady who was robbed. And don’t look so offended. You’re not the only junior who’s been asked to do this,”

You took a quick look around to catch quite a few seniors talking with your peers.

“Get to work,” she said simply, before leaving you alone at your desk. You rolled your eyes once she turned away before looking down at the address. You sighed.

After lunch, you ended up taking the bus to the location. You had never stepped foot into this part of the city before. And you didn’t really want to. It looked pretty sketchy. The buildings were a little more worn down, the streets a little quieter, especially for a Monday afternoon. But you shook it off and started walking towards your destination. Once you reached, you raised your fist to knock on the door of the apartment. An elderly woman answered.

“Yes?”

“Hello,” you greeted politely. “I’m with Seoul Weekly. I’m here regarding your call?”

Her face morphed into an expression of realization.

“Ah! Yes, please come in,”

You looked around her house as she made you a cup of tea.

“Do you live here alone?” you asked, trying to start a conversation.

“Yes,” she smiled. “Both of my kids have their own families,”

“And your…?”

Her smiled turned sad.

“My husband passed away a few years ago. It’s just me now,”

“I’m sorry,” you said sympathetically. She smiled at you, handing you a cup before taking a seat.

“So, why don’t you start by telling me what happened?”

“Well...it was around 2 in the morning. I woke up to get a drink of water when I heard voices outside. At first they were very quiet voices, but soon they started arguing. They were shouting at each other,”

“Do you know who they were?” you asked. She shook her head.

“No, but I could tell that they were men. A whole group of them,”

“About how many?”

“I’m not very sure...only around 5 people were talking but I have a feeling that there were more,”

“Who did you think they were?” you inquired.

“Oh, gangsters for sure,” she said seriously, her eyes going wide as she leaned forward. “Definitely gangsters,”

“How do you know that they weren’t just a couple of guys messing around?”

“Because I could hear what they were talking about,”

“And what were they saying?”

“Well I only heard a little bit but they were talking about some shipment. One of them was angry that the shipment was late and the other one was just laughing about it. And then the gun went off,”

“Gun?!” you asked, surprised. “You mean to say there was a gun involved?”

“Yes,”

Well she could have mentioned that earlier.

“When the gun went off, I ran to the window. I didn’t see any dead or injured person but they had all run away. I only caught sight of one of them,”

“And what did he look like?” you pressed eagerly.

“I didn’t see his face. He had a mask on. But he was tall and built too. He was wearing all black and on the back of his jacket there was a logo. It was some kind of diamond. And he was holding a gun. That’s how I know they were gangsters,”

“Wow,” you managed. You were intrigued now. But you didn’t know whether to believe her.

“Did you call the police?”

“I did,” she admitted. “But when they questioned around, everyone denied hearing anything because they were all asleep. So the cops thought I was just crying for attention and being a crazy old lady. But there’s one thing that proves my theory,”

“What’s that?”

“Come with me,” she stood up and you followed her out of her house and into the alleyway where the whole thing went down. It looked like a normal alley. A few trash cans at the very back, graffiti littering the walls. Nothing looked particularly out of place.

“When I showed this to the police they thought it was simple graffiti. But tell me that doesn’t look like some kind of gang symbol,”

She pointed to dark red color on the wall. Harsh streaks of paint were etched into it. You didn’t know how to describe it. The shape looked so simple but at the same time, felt deadly. Yeah, that was definitely not regular graffiti. That was some kind of symbol. A logo. Some kind of representation. A signature. Whose signature, you didn’t know.

“This is the same symbol I saw on the back of that man’s jacket. They are a gang. I’m telling you,” the lady stressed with a shake of her head. You raised a hand and gently brushed your fingers over the paint. Your curiosity was peaked. Now this wasn’t about pleasing your senior. You wanted to know more. You wanted to get to the bottom of this. You didn’t think that there were gangs running around Seoul but now that you knew, you were going to find out more.

“Thank you for your time,” you said to the lady, feeling excited. “It was very helpful. I’ll find out more about this gang,”

She sent you a sweet smile as you walked her out of the alleyway but not before turning to look at the logo once more. You engraved it into the depths of your brain, knowing that you’d need it for future use, before turning away.

***

You were draped across your bed, eagerly scrolling on your laptop when Yoongi got home. He pulled off his coat, eyes landing on you and staying there.

“Hey,” you greeted him, without removing your eyes.

“Whatcha doing? You never work this hard. The last time I saw you so interested in something is when that one idol group came--”

“It’s not that,” you said hurriedly, before sitting up and crossing your legs. “There’s a story my seniors want me to write so I’m working on that,”

“Wow, look at you being all hard-working,” he teased, walking towards you. He took your face in his hands and pressed a loving kiss to your lips. You noticed his shirt as he pulled away.

“What, did you miss your mouth while eating lunch today?” you asked playfully, fingers brushing over pinkish red stains near the top of his white button down. He looked down in confusion before rolling his eyes, a sweet gummy smile stretching across his handsome face. His fingers wrapped around your wrist and pulled your hand away from the stains.

“Who knows? I probably fell asleep while eating, right?” he shrugged, before making his way into the bathroom and leaving you giggling as you continued your work.

Over the next few weeks, you worked hard on your report. And though it wasn’t a solid article yet, you spent quite a lot of time doing research and interviewing people who claimed to know things about gangs around Seoul. None of the ‘witnesses’ had definite names, which was a huge piece of the puzzle, but you didn’t want to give up. You were determined to make this your best report yet.

You walked into work one morning, slightly nervous but also confident. Your senior had asked you to bring whatever work you had done so far and show it to her, so you brought everything you had collected over the past few weeks. You were pretty proud of what you had. The only thing left was to see her reaction.

“Did you work hard on it?” she asked as you walked inside her office, motioning for you to take a seat.

“Yes,” you said. “I found a lot,”

“Good,” she said as you handed her your research. “I’m glad that you could make it more interesting than just a stupid robbery. But that lady was definitely lying about the gangsters haha,”

“Actually..” you started. “I believe her story. I did all my research on gangs in the area,”

She stared at you.

“Seriously? You believe that crap?”

“Yes, I do,” you said honestly. “Her story seemed to fit,”

“It seemed to fit?! (Name), you can’t base an entire story off of one crazy old lady!” she said exasperatedly, flipping through your work. “Declaring that there are gangs in Seoul is a big deal, alright?!”

“But I genuinely think there are!” you pressed earnestly. “Did you see the symbol?? That looks like some kind of gang-”

“That could’ve easily been any teenager doing graffiti. That’s what the police said too!!” she argued back.

You looked down in defeat.

“Look...” she sighed. “..if you really think that there’s a story here, you need hard evidence. Not just of some paint on the wall, but if you could catch some kind of footage or evidence of the gang in action or something that proves they exist, we could get this done. Otherwise, I’m sorry, but I don’t think we can publish this,”

“No. Please, give me a little more time, I’ll try to find something,” you pleaded.

“Alright but if you aren’t successful, you have to let this one go and start something else okay?” she acquiesced, albeit reluctantly.

“Yes, thank you,” you bowed quickly as she handed you your work and you exited her office.

Oh boy I’m screwed, aren’t I? I have to find evidence that gangs actually exist. Where the hell do I get that from?

When you got home after work, you immediately began scouring the internet for any sightings or video clips.

You were so absorbed in your work that you didn’t even notice Yoongi come home.

“Are you still working on that report?” he asked, loosening his tie.

“Yup,”

Yoongi had let you be for the first week and a half, understanding that it had to do with work and leaving it at that, but over time he got curious too.

“Okay, I wanna know,” he said after a quick shower, taking a seat next to you. “What’s this report on? You’re really into it,”

You paused your typing to face him, excitement now shimmering in your eyes.

“Well, a few weeks ago this lady said there was a disturbance in an alleyway next to her house, so she called the police. The police thought it was just an attempted robbery but when I went to hear her story, guess what she said?”

“What?” Yoongi asked.

“Gangsters!! There was a gang outside her house and apparently a gun fight too,” you told him and his brows raised in surprise.

“Gangs?? I didn’t think there were gangs in Seoul,”

“Me neither, but she told me about what she heard. They were fighting about some shipment or something and someone shot a gun. And and and, in the alley there was this symbol on the wall and I’m pretty sure it’s some kind of logo or code or something-”

“Isn’t it dangerous for you to get involved with this kind of thing?” he asked, brows furrowing. “I don’t think a gang wants a random person looking into them like this,”

You waved your hand dismissively.

“They don’t know about me. Besides, if I’m right, this could be my best story yet. I may even get promoted! I mean, I’ve been in the same position for so long and I really do want to get promoted, Yoongi! Just imagine what we could do with the extra money. I could finally show my parents that this job is better and-”

“I know, sweetheart, but..” he trailed off. Your eyes softened.

“Look, I promise I won’t get too close okay? I just need to be able to say that there’s a gang at work here. I’m not gonna get involved with them,” you promised, wrapping your arms around him.

“How are you gonna prove that?” he asked.

“My senior says I need to find evidence. So some kind of footage or solid proof that there’s a group of people doing illegal things. That’s the hard part. I don’t know how I’m going to find anything like that,”

“(Nickname), it’s probably not even a gang, alright? Maybe it was just a couple of guys trying to rob her and she heard something else, not a gun. I mean until now, when have we heard of gangs around huh?”

“No, Yoongi,” you pressed. “I don’t think she was lying. I really think there’s something here,”

“(Name) seriously. It’s stupid. Why would gangs be forming now? And if they were really discussing a shipment, why would they do it outside by some lady’s house? This is such a dumb idea,”

You frowned.

“Why do you keep trying to say I’m wrong?”

He sighed.

“I don’t know...I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” he muttered into your hair.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to me,” you reassured him with a soft smile. “I promise,”

***

You got into the bus after work, taking a seat near the back once again before closing your eyes to think. After a few days, you became so stressed with the lack of evidence. You couldn’t find anything about a gang. It seemed like these guys were extremely good at covering up their tracks. You really needed to get something solid soon. Otherwise all the work you had done over the last few weeks would be gone. But how? Where do you find it?

You lurched forward a bit as the bus stopped. You blinked in confusion. Not many people boarded the bus this late. There were only around 5 other people in the bus. A couple, a man in the back, and an old lady with assumably her granddaughter. The doors opened and a man stepped on before taking a seat a few rows ahead of you. You settled back into thought as the bus started moving again. You needed to figure something out.

When you opened the door to your apartment, you weren’t surprised to find it empty. Yoongi usually got home later than you did. You were about to go startup work again but you realized that you really needed to relax tonight. The stress was getting to you and you felt extremely tired. So you did what anyone would do and changed into some comfy PJs, ordered pizza, and binge watched Netflix. Maybe that’s why you didn’t realize how fast time went. Because when you managed to stop the next episode from playing, you saw that it was 12:27 in the morning. Yoongi wasn’t home yet. He never got this late. If he was going to be late from work, he’d always shoot you a text or give you a call. You walked into your bedroom and quickly checked your phone to see, but there was nothing from him. You clicked on his contact and pressed his number, holding the phone to your ear and lying down. It rang once, twice, three times, four times, five times, six times, then his voice.

“If you’re hearing this, it means I don’t wanna talk so stop calling me,”

You couldn’t help but playfully roll your eyes at his voicemail.

“Hey, where are you? I didn’t think you’d be coming home late today. It’s really late, I’m a little worried...just call me okay?”

You ran your fingers through your hair and sighed. He’s probably on his way home and his phone just died.

That’s what you hoped anyway. You snuggled under the blanket and stared at your phone screen that didn’t light up with any notification. It didn’t light up, and that worried you.

Slight shuffling from behind you was what woke you up. You didn’t even realize you fell asleep until you heard someone getting into bed. Your eyes flickered open, first focusing on the clock on your bedside table.

3:41 a.m.

You shifted a little to turn and see and-

“Shh, hey, it’s just me. Go back to sleep,” Yoongi’s deep voice whispered, his hand gently rubbing your arm. You didn’t really listen and turned around anyway, nuzzling into his chest.

“Why are you so late?” you mumbled.

“Sorry, baby,” he sighed. “There was a huge blockage in the subway and we were stuck down there for hours. I wanted to call but my phone died,”

“Oh,” you muttered. “I was worried,”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your brow.

“S’okay. I’m just glad you’re home safe,”

He smiled a bit and gently rubbed your back, and you drifted off to sleep once again.

***

“I heard that you’re trying to prove a gangster story?” a familiar voice asked from behind you and you turned around to see Seo Jin.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“How come?” she asked, moving to pour her own cup of coffee from the machine in the break room.

“At first, you know how the seniors wanted us to stretch the truth for some stories?”

She nodded.

“Well when I went to go talk to the witness, I ended finding that her story did make sense and now I’m just trying to come up with some evidence that proves gangs are active in the area,”

“Ah,” she paused. “It’s weird though. I never really imagined gangsters as a threat here. It’s kind of scary haha,”

“What? That gangsters roam around here at night?” you asked, taking a sip of your coffee. She nodded.

“Yeah,”

“As long as you don’t bother them I’m sure they won’t bother you,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders.

“What if I was walking home one night and all of a sudden, this gangster comes out of nowhere and kidnaps me-”

“You watch too many movies,” you chuckled and she smiled sheepishly as the two of walked back to your desks, ready to continue the work laid out for you.

You packed up and headed home at the usual time. When you got home, you decided to give yourself a little bit of free time and read a book. It was fairly interesting. It was about a woman whose family members and close friends start getting killed one by one. Everyone ends up murdered except for her husband. They both decide to move far away from the town where the original murders happened but soon enough, people start getting killed again. Turns out that the husband is the murderer and he ends up killing his wife. You wondered how the husband could have managed to be so secretive. And why did the woman marry him when she obviously knew so little about him?

After you read until you were satiated, you started working on your report. You were so involved, you didn’t realize how fast time was passing until it was around 9:30 at night.

You decided to send Yoongi a quick text.

[9:28 p.m.] (Name): hey just wanted to check if you’re gonna be home late today? you want me to leave dinner out?

You got back to work, keeping an ear open for a buzz that indicated a response, but you got none. Assuming he was still in the train or something of the sort, you let it go. A few hours later, you stood up and checked your phone again.

[11:43 p.m.] (Name): where are you? are you going to be super late today? are you still at work?

And then you went back to your computer, letting time go on again. You probably would’ve stayed up more. But the fact that Yoongi wasn’t home yet was distracting you. Maybe it’s another problem with the subway.

Thinking it was something along the lines of what happened last time, you shook it off. It wasn’t often that Yoongi had situations like this, which meant that it was probably important and there was a logical explanation to it. So you decided you wouldn’t let yourself get too panicked about it and continue your work.

Or so you thought. After it hit 12, your brain wouldn’t let you focus at all. What were the chances that there was a subway problem again? Worst came to mind and you began to gnaw on your lip nervously. Finally, when you couldn’t push your anxiousness anymore, you picked up your phone and dialed his number.

It rang once, twice, three times, four times, five times.

You mentally prepared yourself for his voicemail.

“Hello?”

You stilled.

“Yoongi? Oh thank god. Where are you?! Why didn’t you call?”

“Shit…” you heard him curse under his breath. “Sorry, sweetheart, it’s been a crazy day. I actually had to take a train to go visit my grandmother. She suddenly got really sick and I headed back to Daegu as soon as I heard. I mean I stopped at home and grabbed a few things but then I just left. I meant to call you but it’s been really hectic. We’ve had to call all my relatives and shit and-” he breathed a heavy sigh. You took a minute to process what he had just told you.

“She’s sick?? Is everything okay now? Do you need anything?” you asked, frowning.

“For right now, no. I might have to stay here a couple days and--shit!” you heard him hiss through his teeth.

“Crap! Sorry hyung…” another voice rung out and you paused.

“Who is that? Yoongi are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Uh that was just my idiot cousin. I’m fine (Name), really. I’ll be back home soon. I’ll call you every day. It’s just, I can’t leave right now. I have to be here with them,” he said, his voice sounding very tired and you frowned sympathetically.

“Yeah alright. It’s okay, everything will be fine,” you tried to cheer him up. “Take your time there and stay safe,”

“You too, baby. I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?”

You nodded, though he couldn’t see it.

“I love you,” he said and before you could say anything back, the line went dead.

***

About a week passed, and Yoongi was still in Daegu. He stayed true to his word, though. He made sure to call every day and shoot you small little texts that somehow had the corners of your lips lifting upwards. As your Netflix episode came to a conclusion, you stood up and went outside to get the mail. A part of you was a little worried about Yoongi. Was he okay being in Daegu all by himself, especially in a situation like this? You had offered to come join him but he had immediately shut the idea down.

Yoongi is just going through a lot right now. I mean, he doesn’t have his parents. The closest family he’s got is his grandmother. I understand why he’d be worried.

After getting your allotted mail, you began walking back to your apartment. Once inside, you plopped down on the couch and began sifting through the envelopes.

Bills. Bills. Ads. More Bills. Then an unfamiliar one.

XXX Hospital.

You frowned in confusion. Nobody had gone to the hospital recently. You flipped the envelope over to double check the information.

Your address was right there. Maybe it was addressed to you on accident? Or maybe it was a very old bill that they forgot about?

You tore open the envelope and pulled out the documents, eyes beginning to scan over the typed words.

Patient’s Full Name: Min Yoongi

Sex: Male

D.O.B.: 9 March 1993

Age: 25

Diagnosis: Stab wound to the lower abdomen.

#bts #yoongi #min yoongi #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #bts imagines #bts one shot #bts non idol au #x reader #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #reader insert #min yoongi x reader #bangtan #suga #bts suga

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whyamistillwatchingtheseshows · 4 years

Note

Idk if you’re still doing requests but i keep thinking about ming defending kit. like we all know since he’s in the engineer facility, they’re no stranger to fighting & maybe someone says some shit about kit & ming hears it & is not having it & when kit finds out he realizes that ming is actually serious about him

“Whoa!” Forth grabbed Ming by the arms, holding him back.

“Let me go!” Ming growled.

“It’s enough,” said Beam. “The guy is knocked out.” Ming huffed like a bull. Forth tightened his grip, surprised he even had one on the guy.

“Shit! What the fuck is going on?” Forth answered. Being that his boyfriend was a doctor he was checking out the guy on the ground.

“You know fucking Engineer’s they got the fucking balls to talk shit about people. Then they think there will be no consequences,” Ming spat.

Sensing Ming relaxing, Forth slowly let go... Ming shook him off the rest of the way still fuming a little bit. “The dumb ass had the audacity to make fun of my relationship with a man. To make fun of Kit directly saying bullshit about who is the bottom and top, who always gets fucked? I bet it’s your pretty boy. He’s the bitch, right?” Ming nearly lunged forward to kick the guy but Forth sidestepped in front of him with a hand to his middle. Shit! Remember to never touch those abs again, Forth! Apparently, Beam had smelling salts in his satchel and so he was bringing the guy back to the land of consciousness. Forth rolled his eyes. His boyfriend is either well prepared or a fucking weirdo. Either way Forth loved him.

Ming got angry seeing the man awake so Forth had to pin his arms behind his back once more. The guy gave Ming a fuck you look. Wrong choice buddy. Ming managed to squirm out of Forth’s grasp. The guy ran off, because though groggy, he was noticing it was three against one. To Forth’s surprise, Beam stopped Ming from running after him. Not so gently either. He grabbed the kid by a handful of hair.

“Ouch!” Ming exclaimed.

“First of all, you might think it’s some kind of Knight in Shining Armor thing, coming to Kit’s defense, but I assure you he doesn’t want you fighting like this. Judging by your face-” Beam pointed. “The guy gave you a run for your money.”

“How’d you clock him?” Forth asked too excitedly that Beam gave him an elbow to the ribs.

Ming slightly smirked. “I had the upper hand,” he grinned.

“Not much of it. Did you forget the defensive moves too?” Beam gestured to the swelling bruise on Ming’s eye and the bloodied lip. “Want me to clean you up or should I take you to Kit?”

“Kit,” Ming muttered. As much as he knew this would be a hell of a thing to explain, he desperately wanted to see his boyfriend.

Kit opened the door. “He’s all yours,” Beam said to him and pushed Ming into the room. Beam left, raced down the stairs and hopped back into his car. Forth leaned over and placed a kiss to his cheek. “Should we go back to your room, Doctor?” Beam rolled his eyes...but yeah, he was going to head back to his dorm.

---

Kit came from the bathroom with a bowl of water and a wash rag. Ming prepped the first aid kit on the coffee table. “Are you going to say something?”

“You act as if it surprises me you got into a fight of some sort.” Kit sat on the sofa across from him. He dabbed the cloth over Ming’s face, focusing mostly on the bloodied lip. “We should probably get something cold on that eye.” Kit went to his freezer. He put some ice cubes into a Ziploc and then wrapped it with a paper towel. “Here.” Ming put it on his eye. Kit then noticed his bruised knuckles on that particular hand. That’s what happens without gloves. Hmm.

“The guy had it coming.” Ming finally spoke up as Kit cleaned his lip. “Kept saying stupid shit about you. How your my bitch, blah, blah, blah…ouch,” Ming hissed.

“Okay, first of all, I’m nobody’s bitch, not even yours.” What a fucking lie, Kit. But shh! “Babe, you could’ve walked away. Let me guess he pushed you first?” Kit scoffed, imagining two grade school kids bickering on the playground, except this scuffle was probably ten times worse.

“Yeah, he shoved me. Trying to get a rise out of me. What I didn’t tell Beam was that the guy threatened to make you his bitch. That’s when fists started flying. He managed a few punches as you can see. He was a scrappy guy, but then my upper hand to the jaw knocked him out cold. Ask Beam and Forth if you care to know more. Talking hurts.” Ming laid back onto the couch.

Kit curled on top of him and Ming wouldn’t object. Kit’s hand rubbed Ming’s chest as he said, “I won’t say that he necessarily deserved the punch, but okay, yeah, after saying that I’m glad you punched him. As I said, I’m nobody’s bitch.” Kit gently leaned up so as to straddle Ming there on the couch, he bent down- Ming expecting him to go for his lips but he zoomed up and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“My lips don't hurt that much,” Ming pleaded.

“You just said though that they-” Ming interrupted him with a kiss. Yeah, it fucking hurt, but he could care less. Ming leans up into the kiss. Kit pulls away. “Doesn’t this hurt?”

“Not as much as what the guy said about you.” Ming gave Kit a pointed look, those brown eyes softening him like butter. Kit melted into Ming’s lips, gently kissing, but Ming pressed into him harder. Kit didn’t want to see Ming hurt, but if anything this told him how genuine Ming’s feelings are for him. Still, Kit is nobody’s bitch...okay, so maybe you’d be a “bitch” for Ming. Sh! We won’t tell him that...just keep on kissing him.

#mingkit #2moons2 #fic requests #so Kit is nobody's bitch but in a certainly playful way he'll give control to Ming...#I mean this in a totally playful way my dears

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demonicpiano · 5 years

Text

Cold-Blooded

RusCan Sprite AU

Everything is just a normal human AU except these guys called sprites are running around. Snow sprites manipulate the cold, heat sprites do well in the hot weather...yadda yadda. Our boy Canada isn’t doing so well. He keeps shivering but gets nauseous if he tries to warm himself up. Maybe it’s just a second onslaught of puberty. Either way, he’s not the only one.

Check it out on my AO3!

~.~

"It's a little chilly, eh?"

"It's winter, yeah."

Matthew gave his coworker at the next desk over a long look. No acknowledgement. He turned back to his own computer screen with a light sigh, flexing his stiff fingers before going back to compiling these ungrateful bastards'—oops, lovely reporters'—findings into a somewhat presentable column. He wore a thick turtleneck. He still shivered.

A glimpse around the cramped clumps of desks and lost souls bent over in their seats foretold nothing of sharing his blight. That guy was wearing goddamn shorts in the middle of winter. Matthew gave him a subtle shake of the head, although the tough guy wouldn't notice - he was too worried about bending over some newcomer's work and shaking his buttocks at her.

Matthew whispered to his adjacent sufferer-in-arms, "I'm going to get something warm to drink. I'll be right back, in case one of the bosses comes by."

No reply.

Matthew rolled his eyes, saved his work, then pushed from his chair. The only reason there were cocoa packets for the taking in the break room was because they were leftovers from a manager's party, and nobody wanted cocoa without marshmallows. And milk. Water would (very unfortunately) have to do. It was something warm.

Chilly hands clutched a cheap Styrofoam cup, shaking and sloshing around cocoa powdered-flavored water as Matthew slowly lifted it to his face. Instead of a nice wash of steam opening his nostrils, a slap of sweaty, undesirable muck came over him. He jerked away, waggling his tongue at the sink tempting him to dump the rest of the watery abomination out, but he decided to take it back to his desk and use it as a hot pack.

Matthew set the cup down, curling and uncurling his fingers. The cocoa's spell backfired; instead of relieving numbness, his fingers turned into noodles. At least those were supposed to soak in hot water. Not cocoa. Yes, this ruined the whole point of a steamy beverage. He was raised with standards. At least for hot chocolate. And men.

His shivering lessened to a nauseous quivering. Matthew crammed a lump back down his throat before tacking on his keyboard. He tossed more cocoa back as he started to get toasty under his sweater, regretting doing so as the taste washed over his tongue, but persevered through the rest of the dull day.

On the walk back home, Matthew tried to remember what he did for eight hours, but could not think of anything besides white walls of text. The snow banks seemed to give extra cold to the air, like Canada was a giant refrigerator and God just turned down the temperature dial.

Matthew eyed their grayed, gravel-infested lumps along the sidewalk, imagining too easily how the cold drifted and curled over his skin. Even under three thick layers, it was as if the cold was inside of him, posing as miniature ice cubes in his veins.

An uneventful walk, an uneventful handful of hours before bedtime. His flat was quiet. He kept the TV set low as news reporters poured over anything wrong with the world. Oh, and a local puppy adoption. Hey, puppies were the best.

Matthew violently shivered on the couch. He sent a weird look to the thermostat before relenting and hobbling over to give it a nudge for warmth. Back to the couch. Shivering. Thermostat again.

Oops, too warm now. Matthew shed his blanket and turned down the temperature a little. Back to the couch. Blanket intact. Weather time. It was going to be cold all week. Then a snow storm by the weekend. He bet the school kids were excited at the sound of that. He would muster up a smile at the thought of pretty sparkling flakes before relentless feet stomped it to pity if he weren't shaking in some kind of fit.

Matthew decided to keep the thermostat down, as he could always add more layers and more blankets, as opposed to shedding his skin when it got too warm. Under five blankets—yes, five thick comforters—he shivered. Of course he shivered. As if the blankets weren't going their job. Or he wasn't giving them warmth to give it back to him. Huh.

Matthew glared in the direction of his bedroom wall, twitching and shaking and quaking so much his darn muscles started to get sore. He plucked his cell phone from the nightstand, trying for the weather again, but this was so damn ridiculous, especially without his glasses, and the screen was just a blur of light jumping back and forth. He slammed the device back on his nightstand and flipped himself over with a growl.

He couldn't shiver all night. Eventually, he would pass out.

~.~

"Agh! Ow, oh, what...?" Matthew pulled his hands from the covers, gawking at his bone-white fingers. He was white, but not that white. He whipped his blankets away, putting his icicles-for-legs to the floor and hobbled around his room like the cold from the floor seeped into his feet.

"Ooh, man, this is bad," he spat between trembling teeth. "Just how freaking cold is it? This is starting to get ridiculous."

Matthew grabbed for a pot for tea or even more damn cocoa-water, something warm! Okay, he managed to fetch some milk from the fridge, hissing at the cold coming from there, like there wasn't enough in the world. He stared at the milk gently steam like an insane person would, tempted to stick his fingers in the flames below.

Hey, there was a good idea. Matthew lifted his hands, holding them a little ways to the fire warming his milk. He smiled and nodded to himself as the almost-non-metaphorical sheet of ice against his skin started to melt. Then it burned. He yelped and jerked away.

Matthew was not even close to the stove. Not that close. He twisted the knob to lower the heat, grumbling at his own stupidity. He had a roof over his head; he'd warm himself with his heating bill, not the stove top, for crying out loud.

~.~

However, Matthew did not get warm. He got ready for work with stiff fingers. Ate some doughnuts with hands made of ice instead of muscles and what not. Shivered some more. Sometimes the quiet flat was too quiet, but not in a suspicious-spy movie way. It was quiet in a 'damn, I need a boyfriend or a dog in here' kind of way. The teeth chattering filled the silence and rattled his nerves.

Surprise, surprise! It was a cold walk to work, too.

Matthew has been cold many times in his life. Sometimes it was fun. Other times, the snow or freezing rain soaked his socks, and that wasn't as fun. But he never, ever got freaking sore from shaking so much. He wondered how much of a workout was shivering. Maybe he burned (or froze off) plenty of calories from those two donuts he ate that morning.

"Oh, Mister Williams!" A middle-aged 'Can I speak to the manager' woman strode to his desk with too bright lipstick for the sorrow in her eyes. "Hey!" She nasally brayed, "How's the column going? Did you get my e-mail?"

"Um...the one about the cat pictures? Yeah..."

"Yeah?" She smiled, parting the sea of pink that shouldn't be on someone's face. "You like it? Don't lie, I can see that you do. Everyone's gonna love it. They all love cats. They better, anyway, providing you do your little keyboard magic, and move everything just right...!"

Matthew just blinked as this lady went on and on how one of the previous programmers left a stray code in the middle of her article last quarter, and they received a bunch of angry letters from people that had nothing better to do than complain that they saw 'greater than' and 'lesser than' symbols outside of a school classroom. He let out a shaky exhale, trying not to bite a chunk of his tongue off from his teeth trying to rattle up a band.

"Oh, honey!" The lady cried in a decibel that would make dogs whine. "You look so pale! Are you sick or something? Oh!" She pulled her scarf over her mouth. "I hope you don't give me anything!"

"Mm, n-n-no, I d-don't think s-s-so."

"I'll see about turning up the heat a bit for you, okay? Just...make sure you cough into your sleeve! I'll come by again to see how things are working out! I can't wait to see those kitties on the front page!"

That was new. Asking how Matthew felt. Usually the quick, 'Hey, how's it going?' did not warrant an actual response. Yet if he didn't toss a fast, 'Fine, thanks,' then he would seem rude. What a cruel world.

Matthew managed a stiff nod. Words were improbable.

His neighbor gave him a long side-eye, like the chills were contagious. Were they? Matthew didn't know. He almost started to type in the search bar, but his hand quaked as it hovered over the keyboard. A jumble of letters. He could hardly get himself to press the proper keys.

"Ugh," Matthew bemoaned his blight. He sat in his chair, glaring down his keyboard as his glasses slid down his nose. If only the keys would tell him they had everything and not to worry about his work; they got it. Another shudder grabbed a hold of him, and he squeezed his eyes shut to stay sane through its hold.

"Uh...hey," his neighbor leaned forward to eye him up. "Are you...going to be okay?"

"No."

"I think you should go home."

"I just got here."

A long look.

Matthew wanted to say his colleague didn't want to get sick, that's all. He twisted, planting his heels flat to the ground before pushing himself from his chair. A slap of heat came over him. He grunted, and a sticky sheen of dampness poured from his, well, pores. The world and the bewildered faces of journalists swirled around and around and around. "Oh, maple."

The carpet came for him in a flash of ugly stained blue.

~.~

Murmuring. Beeping. Constant beeping. Brightness. Matthew groaned at it all as his head lolled to the side of a...pillow. He was lying down. His eyes flew open.

"Oh...fuck!" He spat to himself in a hospital. A damn hospital. "No, no, come on..."

Matthew was surely sick, but not that sick. Jeez, those reporters are so dramatic. They probably clutched their pearls and flapped their hands in front of their faces at the sight of him passing out. He had to have passed out. How would he have gotten there?

"Oh, God, oh, no," Matthew warbled as a strong shudder griped his body. His teeth snapped together, and he let out a furious hiss of breath. "Damn it with the shivering!"

A pretty nurse came into the room, poking around, and tossed a glance toward him looking and feeling miserable on the bed. "Oh, you're awake!" She sang. "Hi! How you feeling?"

"Cold."

"I bet!" The nurse had her best service smile on, but her eyes screamed terror. "Your body temperature was down to thirty-five! Everyone's amazed how you were still up and about like that! So...just take it easy, and the doctor will be right in to...ahem, discuss things with you."

She left in a hurry. Matthew gawked at the ceiling as his insides were shivering now, too. "Thirty-fucking-five degrees."

(Ninety-five for Americans.)

"It's getting colder," he let out a whimper. Grown adult or not, he hurt. He was freezing from the inside out like someone stuffed ice packs under his skin when he wasn't looking. Maybe they did. Those bastards.

The vent in the ceiling kicked to life, slapping his face with a wave of heat. He moaned, squirming to get away without getting anywhere. "No, no, no, turn that off, please-!" Another sickening quake grabbed him and would not let go. He doubled over and gagged. The warmth kept coming.

Matthew drew in a sharp breath, snapping, and yelled in annoyance, pain, anger, anything cold-blooded inside of him, it needed to come out. A noise from the side of his bed crinkled. Then the IV bag leading to his arm burst, raining icicles on the floor. He lifted his arm up to gawk at the tube flailing uselessly from his skin.

Okay, kids, nobody is supposed to do this, yet everybody in movies does - however, instead of ripping it out like some kind of grunting barbarian, Matthew slowly wiggled the needle out of his arm with a little 'Ooh!' and 'Ouch, ouch!'

The tube started to fog in his grip, and he went to peel and detach anything between him and the monitors. Then he was free. Now Matthew could panic.

"Agh!" He ran to the window and smacked his palms to the glass. It was snowing. Wait, snow wasn't called for days. How long was he out?

"Mr. Williams?!"

"Sir, sir! We're going to need you to come back to bed right now!"

Matthew gazed at frost etching from his fingertips, fanning icicles into crystal white designs along the glass.

Nurses approached, "Mister Williams?"

One grabbed his shoulder. The man immediately recoiled with a cry of pain, grabbing his arm as his fingers throbbed against blue-purple skin.

Matthew slowly turned around, arms held up as ice peeked from his pores, running freezing water down to his elbows and dripping to the floor. The entourage of medical staff gawked with wide eyes, breath catching in warm puffs of fog as they met the chilly air. "I think I know what the problem is," he started as the window behind him crackled with frosty intrusion. "I'm made out of ice."

A moment before the window shattered, pouring over the sill as the winter wind flung itself into the hospital room. The staff screamed, throwing their arms over their faces and ducking for cover. Matthew turned to the gray sky, to the white mercilessly pelting the streets. The ice encasing his arms reveled in contact with the biting wind. He was so cold.

"We need the E.R. team in here, stat! Mister Williams?!"

Matthew stepped toward the window. His feet crunched on the glass shards, poking harmlessly against the thickness edging along his skin.

"Mister Williams!" The nurses screeched as he pulled himself through the window, and let himself be blown into the breeze.

~.~

"I can't find the coffee stirrers. Over."

Bssch, "They're in the upper cabinet, left hand side. Over."

A man sat at a desk, in a room completely to himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose before snatching the radio off his desk. "Toris! Eduard! The intercom system is for important calls and emergencies, not your personal hand-helds!"

A voice murmured from one side, "But it was important..."

"Hush!" One of the men hissed. His voice grew closer, "Uh...sorry, D-Detective Braginsky."

Ivan slammed his radio back on his desk, giving his head a shake before flicking a page of his magazine.

Various murmurs resonated through the radio, calls from around the city. He turned the dial down by a smidge. Just a smidge.

"A stray dog..."

"...my leg got stuck in a snow embankment...in front of the woman I was supposed to be writing a ticket to..."

"Not to sound stereotypical, but I could go with some doughnuts right now."

Static.

"...at the hospital. Some kind of, uh...icy intrusion."

Ivan picked up his head from his magazine.

He turned the dial back up in time to hear another cop relaying, "Yeah, like, some kind of artic blast busted into the medical center. A couple of people have frostbite and cuts from the shards."

"I hear you," Ivan said. "Wait, I'm on my way."

"Detective?"

"Yes. Hold on."

"Oh, the head detective's coming with us?"

Ivan threw on a thick wool coat and stormed out of his office. Various men and women hovering over desks and pouring over bulletin boards hunched and skittered away from his path. Their eyes pricked his broad backside on the way out.

A snow storm was well underway. Two cops popped their heads over their cruiser at his approach. "Sir! You, uh-"

"Move," Ivan said. "I'm driving."

"Uh, yes, sir! The keys are already in the ignition."

Ivan gave him a stupid look, as the vehicle was already rumbling with life and sputtering hot fumes into the air. Once situated, the pair gave each other mirroring looks of shock through the bars blocking the back seats. Worried murmurs and static came from the radio, but other than that, it was a short but extremely thick silence to the medical center.

Another cruiser and private cars haphazardly parked before the entrance, and as soon as the keys left the ignition, Ivan stormed the place just as icily as the building storm outside.

Medical staff bustled around, trying to help confused patients that crept from their rooms to investigate the disturbance. A frail old lady held up a shaky hand to a nurse and complained, "Dear, it's so cold! Won't you turn up the heat?"

Ivan pressed against a wall and snuck around the pair.

"Oh! Is that the police?! Oh, oh! What are they doing here?"

"Ma'am, please, calm down, there was just a mild disturbance..."

Another officer jerked his head to a certain room. "Over here!"

Ivan followed.

Glass decorated the tiled floor, blowing from the grand window lining the furthest wall. Warm breath came from his teammates' faces as their wide eyes scanned the perimeter. One asked, "What could have done this?"

"Who?"

A weird look.

"I spoke to the witnesses. They said a man by the name...Williams approached the window, and it burs into icy shards."

Ivan asked, "Are you sure of that?"

The officer gave him a good gawk. "Based on witness accounts! The nurses that weren't injured by the flying glass."

"And this Mister Williams escaped?"

"Yes, sir, they said he jumped right out this window."

"Well, there's no body there."

"Yes, sir. He ran off."

"He ran off? After jumping out a window?"

"Apparently."

"So you're implying he is responsible for the window shattering?"

"And injuring the staff members, yes."

Ivan curtly turned away. "Stay here and get the full story."

"Sir?"

"I'm going to bring this Mister Williams into custody." His fellow officers trailed after him. He barked, "Alone!"

"But there's a storm on its way!"

"I won't be long."

Another officer hushed, "Just...let him go. He's the only one that can handle-"

Ivan was already down the hall. Of course, the eyes of medical staff and patients hooked onto the scarf flapping against his back, waving goodbye to the place when he wouldn't. A gust of cold air and snow pellets slapped his face, pulling his coat from his legs as soon as he stepped outside. Dusk was approaching. He needed to be quick.

Shoe-marks stamped the light dusting of snow in the parking lot. Ivan paced until he lined himself below the shattered window. Glass crunched under his boot. His eyes followed down the side of the building, a two story drop, and across the parking lot. The streetlights shimmered against clumps of ice leading across the car pack.

Further, toward the street, the icy dimples morphed into foot-prints. A shallow snow bank, but someone must have fell into it and struggled to get up. The steps led down the sidewalk. Ivan darted down the road, eyes steady on the distant field still covered from the previous snowfall.

The field remained virtually untouched, except when Ivan plowed himself through the ever-deepening sea of white the further out he went. He slowed as struggling leg divots in the snow intersected with older trails until he finally stopped, glancing around sparse trees and a metal baseball cage some distance away.

Before Ivan could step forward, something snagged one of the tail ends of his beige scarf. It tightened against his throat, and he let out a quiet gasp. He twisted around to snatch the cloth away, but icy claws protruded from the snow and kept a firm hold.

"Mister Williams?"

The snow shifted.

A snow-caked head of what should be blond hair emerged. A bone-white face. Wide, hallow lilac eyes. Ivan felt his own face try to pucker into distaste. Pale lips cracked open, and the man hoarsely whispered, "What are you doing?"

"I could ask you the same thing. Are you Mister Williams?"

The man was deathly still - a statue frozen to the ground. Until he barely moved to answer, "Yes."

"Mister Williams," Ivan started, fishing a badge from his coat. "I'm the head detective for this town's police department. I'm going to get you out of this storm and get you warmed up, but I need to ask you a few questions-"

"No, oh, no, no!" Mister Williams released Ivan's scarf, but his arm stayed stunted into the air, claws of ice wide apart and poised to the darkening sky. "No, no, I'm in trouble, aren't I?" His voice stretched thin as ice grasped his throat, "I hurt those people! Oh, no, no!"

"Mister Williams-"

"I'm a monster! You need to get away. B-b-before I hurt you, too!"

Ivan's eyebrows fell. Less enthusiastically, "Mister Williams, you are not a monster. Do not say that. We just want to-"

"I said...get away!" A hiss of strenuous pain, and a roar of wind poured upon Ivan's head. He threw up his arms as a fury of snow burst from the ground, swathing him in cold, unforgiving white. He shook the clumps off his coat, and Mister Williams' backside peeked from his hospital gown as he clumsily scrambled amongst thick plows of snow.

Ivan sighed, flexed his fingers, and rolled his head. "Okay, then. Hard way it is."

He swooped to the ground, planting his palms into the snow. Mister Williams had not gotten too far, lunging about in a straight line. Icicles shot over the embankments and under his hands and knees. He yelped as his nails scratched onto the sudden layer of slick, and he fell forward, rump going into the air.

Ivan straightened and approached with slight urgency.

Mister Williams pushed himself up with a delirious shake of his head, tossing a frightened glance over his shoulder, and yipped. It was a short warning before he smacked a hand to the ground, and spikes of ice lurched for Ivan's face.

Ivan's arms cut through the night air, and a sheet of iced-over snow emerged from the embankment to catch his assault.

"What the..." Mister Williams cried in shock and fright as everything crumbled to the ground. "You're...you're...!"

"Mister Williams," Ivan dully sang as he came closer. The carpet of ice withered beneath his boots, "You should try to make this as easy for yourself as possible."

Mister Williams scrambled backwards against the weakening ice. He gasped as it melted, only to clamp in a frozen lock around his hands, gluing him to the dead grass. "No! I don't want to go back! I'll only hurt more people!"

"Oh? Because you think you're a monster?"

Wriggling intensified. Mister Williams managed to burst one of the clumps of ice around his hands and flail his free arm in the air. "Yes! Look at me! What else would I be?!"

Two waves of snow rose from the ground, but Ivan swished his hands. They harmlessly crumbled into loose sentiment. He fell on top of Mister Williams' legs, much to the other man's horror, and clamped icy fingers over his head.

Mister Williams wreathed and put his own palm to Ivan's face. "What are you doing?!"

Ivan took a deep inhale as cold sank into his skin, freezing his veins, and a smile played with his lips, "You shouldn't say that! Because if you're a monster..."

Spikes of ice protruded from his pale hair, and Mister Williams could only watch as frost etched across the detective's body...

"Then what does that make me?"

A sharp breath to scream, but nothing came as the entirety of ice encasing Mister Williams receded, right into Ivan's pores. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he slumped into the snow. Unmoving, the whiteness to his skin morphed into a slightly more healthier pink.

Ivan released his clutch, and left Williams on the ground to rise to his feet. He tipped his head to the sky, and let out a long sigh, dispelling dragon's breath of ice into the air. The frost against his clothes melted, dripping back into the ground, and he, too, looked unlike a 'monster' anymore.

Ivan dug around his coat for his hand-held. "Unit one, this is Braginsky."

His radio crackled and hissed. He held it from himself until it died down. "Unit one, do you copy?"

Hissing. A disconnected, "Sir?"

"I found Mister Williams. I said, I found Mister Williams!"

"Is he alive, sir?"

"Yes, although unconscious. He will need medical attention right away. I'm bringing him in." Ivan tucked his radio back into his coat without waiting for a reply. "Monster," he mused with a scoff. "Just for shivering and blowing out a window? That is child's play."

It was a cold, nightly walk back to the hospital with Mister Williams in tow.

~.~

Beeping.

Oh, no, heart monitor beeping!

Matthew's eyes flew open.

Just as he shot to sit with a horrified gasp, something clamped onto his chest and shoved him back down. A hospital room. Of course he was back in a hospital room. His wrists were free, however, not tied down like some wretched creature's would be. His fingers gripped the stiff fabric of his cot as he zoned on another man dwarfing a visitor's chair beside him.

"Stay down."

Matthew complied with a skittish gulp. The man's hands seeped cold back into his skin, a moment before he relinquished himself back to his own personal space. "Aren't you with the police?"

"Yes. You remember me?" Almost lightheartedly, although the big man's smile did not meet his eyes, "We had a little bit of a romp in the snow back there."

Matthew awkwardly grunted, gluing his gaze to the ceiling. He was in so much trouble. He was probably going to get life behind bars. If evil science people did not get to poke him with lots of sharp tools, first. Ice picks, probably. He was made of ice. Or at least, it felt like it. A little less. Maybe his veins were filled with slushy ice water instead.

The man raised his strong eyebrows. "Mister Williams? Are you feeling okay?"

Stinging. Tears pooled in Matthew's eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know...I didn't mean for anything bad to happen." He scrunched his nose and turned his face away so he was not bawling in front of this near-stranger, "Ugh, my entire life is ruined. Ugh, it wasn't even impressive in the first place-"

A cold palm eased against the back of his hand. Matthew's fingers twitched against subtle prickles etching along his skin, "You are not a criminal, Mister Williams. You are a troubled man."

"I'm in trouble."

His company retracted his hand again with a sharp sigh. "Let us start over, okay?" He gestured to himself, to his soft cheeks yet cold eyes, "I am Detective Ivan Braginsky from the Police Department. You are in the hospital because you need help. Not because you are a monster. You are not a criminal. You are confused. That is normal. You just shot ice from your fingers. Again, that is normal. I will tell you why. We will help you."

Matthew lolled his head toward Braginsky. "Okay." He probably already was headed to the can. Minus well get answers. In a small voice, "Why?"

Perhaps it was his imagination, but a light clap of chill ghosted Matthew's cheeks as Ivan leaned forward, much less jaded and annoyed with the world. In near wonder, "You are a snow sprite."

"Um, what?"

"They are a species of humans that can manipulate and are manipulated by the cold-"

"I know what a snow sprite is."

Ivan stared.

"I've read up on the different kinds of sprites throughout my life. My brother's a heat sprite."

Ivan's eyebrows crunched together. "Ah. A heat sprite. Yet you...hm, that's odd. Are your parents...?"

"Both are rain sprites."

"Mutts?"

Matthew almost smiled. "Yeah, you can say that. Got a whole bunch of mixed blood in me, I guess."

"And out came the ice instead?"

The cold permeating the room didn't feel so bad. It almost felt warming, but not warm, in a kind sense. Matthew let out a long, easing exhale. "Yeah. Looks like it."

"You never...gave off any indication that you have these sorts of abilities?"

"Nope. Well, my brother always felt too hot to the touch. Like, if he hung on me too long, I would always sweat, and-"

"That's normal for heat sprites."

"Oh."

"Maybe it was simply years' build up. Or a late onslaught of growing up?" Ivan leaned against his chair, dragging his hand over his chin. Then a slight uplift to his lips, "You are an enigma, Mister Williams. When I got that call that some lunatic threw himself out a window in the middle of a snow storm, I was not expecting this."

"You were expecting some crack-addict, were you?"

"In kinder words."

Matthew found his own face pulling to a smile. "Thank you, Mister Braginsky. You're much kinder than the impression your stories give off."

Short lived bliss. Ivan fell solemn. Some haunt behind his eyes, "My stories?"

"I compile reports from around town for the local newspaper. I remember your name popping up a lot." Matthew tapped a finger against the bed, nonchalantly goading for attention, "There was a fire at the nearby quick stop last year. You were there. A generator, I think, overheated, and you...you 'sucked' the cold out of the air, and literally cooled it with your hands. It was amazing reading the reports. What you said about it. I could never imagine being able to do something like that. Amazing."

Ivan dropped his gaze to the hands folded on his lap. "Oh, that."

"Just 'that?'"

"I got into trouble from that. Mostly a slap on the wrist, but people say what they want to say in those kinds of situations. You're not supposed to make a big speculation of your powers around other people. Especially our type." Ivan's prominent nose curled as he hissed the words, "'Public disturbance.'"

Thoughts of getting thrown in a stony jail plagued Matthew's mind again. Scientists, with big, sharp scalpels-

"It's a solitary life," Ivan murmured. "Not enough people know much of anything having to do with us. Not enough people want to know anything. Our touch can and will hurt them. Who would you blame but yourself for your own loneliness?" He blinked, and picked up his head. A slight slap of cool air dusted Matthew's cheeks. There windows were not open. "Ah, that was a little bit too sad, yes?"

Matthew couldn't help a little laugh. "Yeah, that was real freaking sad. We are monsters."

"Now that was sad. I suppose even monsters feel it, too, yes? Does that really make us monsters, compared to those who deny it?"

"Ugh, stop it, you're making my head hurt."

Ivan let out a giggle. A giggle. The grin cracking along his pale face attracted eyes more than that gloom hanging over the room. "It is not all bad news, Mister Williams."

"Really, you can call me Matthew. And what is it?"

"Matthew. Matvey. No, Matthew. Yes. Uh, you're most likely going to get charged with the cost of window repairs."

"I knew that. That's not good news, anyway."

"You also hurt people."

"Detective, I thought you said you had good news."

"You're not going to get arrested, or tossed in some spooky prison."

Matthew's eyes went wide. "What?"

"The hospital is not pressing charges, as long as you cover the damage. Not as a criminal, at least, but there was nothing I could do to dissuade them from seeing it as an onslaught of mental health issues."

Matthew fell back against his pillow. "They probably are, anyway."

"Don't say that."

"Whoops."

Ivan scrunched his face for a moment, before it fell back into a sly grin. His hand breeched the mattress, crinkling the hospital sheet, "You live in a good place. People will take care of you. Maybe...when you come back...if you find yourself without a job, the station is always looking for honest people to share our stories. Journalists. Reporters. Programmers, too. Those are always in demand."

"What?" Matthew gasped, "Mister Braginsky, no. You can't. You shouldn't-"

"I'll put in a good word for you."

"Why?"

"I like your stories." Ivan almost said he liked Mister Williams. That would have been a bit too soon, wouldn't it? He just tackled the guy to the snowy ground and knocked him out, after all. Usually people don't make friends that way. Usually he didn't make friends at all. He decided to go with, "I always read my stories coming back to me, from you."

Matthew's hands curled over his own face. "Oh, no..."

"I think you even called me a 'hero' once-"

"No, no..."

Ivan grinned, "I actually don't live an impressive life, Matthew."

"Says you." A ripple of cold air drifted across the cot. Matthew shot the detective a look that was supposed to be threatening, almost as if goading him to 'Try me.' "I think...what you did...I thought that was impressive."

"Do you mean, what I did a few hours ago, or just in general?"

Matthew lightly smacked Ivan's shoulder, grinning, "Shut up."

Ivan found himself copying the mingling chills in the air. "I'm going to have to ask you a few questions about what happened."

After some thought, "Okay, Mister Detective. Ask away."

It took some guts to reach over and put an icy palm to another.

At the end, Ivan stepped out of Matthew's hospital room, realizing his interrogation was something more of a self-indulgent questionnaire. Snow sprites live solitary lives. Maybe this one didn't have to.

#oh hell yeah my dudes I like me some #RusCan #THE SIN BIN #hetalia au #hetalia fic #hetalia #hws RusCan #hws Russia #hws Canada #my fic

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