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2kmps · 7 months

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FAULTY TEST

android x reader one-shot | 2.5k | MDNI!!

story summary;; a newfound responsibility of yours has been to record the behaviors and responses of an exclusive, advanced android marketed for the wealthy and elite. he is beautiful and meticulously fulfills your every need. however, when you start to notice odd changes in his usual pattern one morning, you begin to wonder if he's defected.

story warnings;; ducon, implied insemination, coercion, brief sexual content, somewhat obsessive behaviors, overall criticism of society as a whole, prose + heavy descriptions, incomplete ideas but for the sake of this one-shot it is cohesive, ending left vague and open to interpretation, android critiques mc's health, roughly proofread, mdni!!

please interact & reblog if you enjoy!!

He had a face that was structured to be unimaginably beautiful. A sort of face that you'd never tire of looking at, finding something new to admire and touch every time, yet saddled your mind with some inexplicable discomfort and set the hairs on the back of your neck straight like needles. Over time, that feeling had never fully subsided, simultaneously becoming one you craved at every instance he entered a room, like Pavlov’s dog trained to salivate to a bell.

“What is your preference this morning, Tester?” Elio announced himself from the kitchen once your first heel struck the bottom of the staircase. His voice was liquefied velvet, mellifluous with enough depth that you swore even the simplest words spoken could make your heart tremble. “Tester? Are you well?”

You wished he would call you something else, something other than what the manufacturer had programmed him to. He was an advanced model—pardon, a luxury model—so his repertoire came with extensive features not available in other options, but insofar, the ability to have androids refer you by name was only achievable by obscene amounts of money and sending them back to the manufacturer to have them install it there.

Elio was up for being considered the gold standard in android development, as proclaimed by the researcher you were put in communication with during the beginning of the trial run. He was made to be perfect in every way, perform flawlessly in anything asked of him, respond favorably regardless of situation or dilemma.

“Coffee with cream and sugar is fine. I'm not in the mood to eat anything this morning.” It was often explained, he was supposed to memorize it but he asked you every morning regardless. “Are you having issues with your memory bank, Elio?”

Single strands of his coiffed hair moved with his head as he looked at you, hands busily putting together your beverage to every exact specification. This made it obvious enough that nothing was inhibiting his ability to store away your morning preferences.

“Not at all. It's just that some days you prefer your coffee lightly sweetened, others you enjoy a meal that won't leave you feeling groggy in the afternoon.” Elio said in his precise, elegant tones with a smile far too effortless to come from a machine. “I thought it wise to commit these discrepancies to my memory bank for your convenience and to ask from now on.”

Fascinating. You weren't aware of this element in the newest model. The guidebook that Researcher Kim had given you made no mention of it.

What's more is he decided to do this spontaneously. You were making a note about it in your phone when a simple, white mug was placed before you, Elio’s pristine fingertips turning it by the rim until the handle faced your dominant hand.

“Please consider eating something before leaving the house. Coffee on an empty stomach, especially one as sensitive as yours, won't end well, as I'm led to believe from my research.” Elio watched you drink through long, dark lashes that framed depths of piercing green. You liked that they seemed to turn paler or darker in different lighting, dimensions similar to a marble held up to the sun. “I’d also like to remind you that the quality of food that you consume first thing in the morning aids with energy disbursement throughout the day. I have a very gratuitous database of recipes that I can prepare for you.”

You were taking delicate sips from the round rim while he talked, lips surrounding the porcelain long enough that you swore his gaze had wavered to them for a split second before returning eye contact.

“I’m glad someone is concerned about my tummy health, because I always believed someone would find me face down in the bathroom from my ass prolapsing.” You wished someone with a sense of humor was around for that banger, but, alas, it was Elio and he did not laugh.

His expression turned severe. “Human bodies are oddly as robust as they are sensitive. Most of the worldwide population suffer with similar afflictions: Lactose intolerance, varying dermatitis, poor eyesight, gastrointestinal diseases. Humans are, in every sense, meant to harbor and experience chronic pain and disease throughout their lifespan. I do believe this attests to your durability as a species.

“All this is to say is my main prerogative and function is for the betterment of your life and health. So, knowing all of this and to conclude, please consider a couple slices of toast or an omelet before leaving. Your daily habits dictate a routine visit to the coffee shop on 5th and Lowe, where you'll consume around one-hundred twenty milligrams of caffeine and your first meal of the day may be a sweetened pastry without nutritional density. You will, indubitably, ‘feel bad’ the rest of the day as a result.”

“Holy shit,” you had given up on recording his speech after the first two minutes, phone facedown on a gleaming countertop. “You didn't plagiarize that from a random article on the internet, did you?”

Coffee having turned lukewarm by the end of his presentation, he took the mug away and emptied the medium-brown contents into the drain before turning on the faucet to clean it. “Not at all. I've simply been accumulating knowledge on your routines and have noticed you're at an increasing risk for different ailments. Did you find it helpful?”

Truthfully, you weren't so sure.

Androids were built to serve humans in every capacity, but their limitations were still well-known. They were capable of carefully compiling decades worth of information on their owners, plus the equivalent of hundreds more, but everything Elio had just said was beyond the scope of their normal hardware. The information had been elucidated critically, yet with a certain sentience you expected from a caretaker—not a machine built for convenience, entertainment, and pleasure.

You weren't sure how much of it you needed to relay to Researcher Kim, if it was any real reason for concern at this stage or just part of Elio’s advanced circuitry. A part of you worried, just slightly, that officially documenting all of this would have Elio removed from the testing period prematurely—he was supposed to be yours, exclusively, for another six months.

The contract had been signed. Elio had been promised to you despite the number of waitlisted celebrities trying to bribe their way into the corporation, and Researcher Kim’s good graces.

This, of course, was all only contingent if he operated and performed, at all times, as outlined in the guidebook you were handed upon Elio’s awakening. Researcher Kim had delivered his newest creation to you himself, a dreary Wednesday in late autumn in the mid-morning, and had taken great care to put the crisp, chemical-scented poundage of bound pages in your fingers and insisted that if you noticed the slightest deviation from what was printed inside, he be alerted to it immediately.

You didn't do that.

You took a hot shower, blow-dried your hair, put your arms through some clean clothes and let Elio follow you to the front door to see you off for the day.

That day grew stranger still, not even yet being ten o’ clock in the morning, when the deadbolt clicked and your finger joints bent around cold brass. It didn't raise chicken skin on your arms and neck nearly as high as when Elio pushed his hand to the door, keeping it shut despite your pull.

You couldn't look into his green eyes, shockingly pale in the golden rays filtering inside your home from the window arching in the door. “Did I forget something?”

“No. I accounted for everything you'd need on your outing.” Elio said, perfectly. His hand made a sound as it slid down along the door, resting shoulder height near you. “A function you have not utilized in me as of now is that of a ‘companion’. Do you find me defective in that way? Dr. Kim developed me to be attractive to the human eye—stimulating, perhaps, is a more definitive word to use.”

“I—no, Elio. You're plenty, er, stimulating. I just don't know how appropriate it is for me to do anything like that while you're in a testing period.” It felt distasteful to have to point out his own inhumanity to him, despite his model being cognizant enough to be aware of it. “It would feel weird, I think.”

“That is one of my primary purposes,” he insisted, shrinking the height of himself so he was nearer to your face. “I was created to be a companion, to alleviate that pervading loneliness that plagues you—all of humanity. Humans have forgotten how to communicate and love each other, so that's why I'm standing here now. You're ignoring one of my most critical functions.”

“Elio, if I get too attached to you, it's going to create problems when you're—”

“—sent back. I do understand how human attachment works. Perhaps not on the same scale, but don't you think my attachment is similar to yours. Everything about you is secured in my circuitry, and you're the only thing in my world that’s programmed to matter. Even once I'm returned to the lab, you'll still be a part of me; memories of you, your favorite things, the things you hate, the people you cherish and what they like, what you do, where you go, what you buy, how you sleep—it’s all part of a larger system, a mainframe that secures this data. I may be wiped clean, but you'll still remain.”

You felt like he was letting you in on some dirty secret, something devious and meant to be unknowable and guarded. But, then again, Elio had always displayed an odd sort of disinterest in the Company—in Researcher Kim, you hadn't considered until just now that this was also a defect.

“What do you want?” You'd never asked him that before because it had never been about what he wanted. He wasn't supposed to want anything; he was meant to provide—to give, give, give.

Elio took away your shoulder bag, nearing your face until his lips settled between yours and his hands pulled you away from the door into his body. His kiss was warm, movements at a pace you could keep up with but urgent as though seeking to burn every bit of you into him. As much as you daydreamed what it'd be like, he felt completely natural on your mouth, large hands sweeping under the layers of your clothing seeking out the fire on your skin.

In your generation, it wasn't common for humans to intermingle physically anymore—dating culture was reserved for the elite looking to reproduce for heirs, and often still thought to be rare. All others were either loveless or ravished by androids who supplemented love that simply wasn't real.

Humans wanted to be wanted and adored and cherished and to belong, such was a natural behavior predating all written record; androids were created to fill the vile void engendered by humanity, self-imposed isolation and avoidance in the same species.

Elio was nestled between the sprawl of your legs before long, both your bodies bare and above the clean sheets he had outfitted your mattress with last night. His rhythm inside your body was some equal parts loving and passionate, something you hadn't realized you liked until he started rocking you with his cock. You liked how his hands gripped under your thighs to raise your legs, blunt fingertips pressing marks into your flesh as though he, too, could feel all the same pleasure that you were.

His lips traveled all over, mapping out routes and sweet spots on your flesh, purposefully lingering for a time if you squirmed or moaned underneath him.

You tried to keep in your mind, midst the insatiable buzz in your mind and hot throb in your groin that he was simply performing a function—his attention to you, his lips finding yours time and time again, darkened green eyes spearing deep into yours with every slow, hard thrust—it was all performative.

“You're beautiful.”

“I like you like this.”

“Moan louder for me.”

“Cum for me.”

“I love you.”

Elio said the last one at the end when you were tight around his girth and writhing, panting during an orgasm that he fucked you through until the heat from your bodies cooled and heart rates returned to normal. You were confused to feel warmth sluggishly ooze out of you, white and dampening the bedsheets below.

“How—what is that?” you asked, suddenly breathless as his lips caressed your jaw, moving lightly behind your ear.

“Another part of my purpose.” He said quietly in your ear, whispering to you in tones not so velvety as though divulging a well-lain secret. “This one isn't advertised because humans in this day and age are so fickle and avoidant to certain commitments. Unfortunately, certain programming I cannot override, and this is one of them. Forgive me.”

You were kissed on the lips again and again, and then a few times more after he left the bed. He did not return your clothing to you, but rather piled it under his arm and made the motion to go left for the bathroom down the hall.

Elio turned back. “I'll start you a bath. Today, would you prefer eucalyptus in your bathwater or something sweeter?”

Your jaw felt as tight as your throat, as the sheets bunched into your fists. The nerves in your stomach were wild. “Choose for me.”

He was still naked and beautiful in your doorway, a modern marvel to your eyes even now. You would, undoubtedly, see him like this much more often now that he had broken through the barrier you had been so meticulous to keep robust and well-fed with paranoia and derisive self-talk.

“Very well. Eucalyptus will be the best option considering how tight your muscles are.” He smiled neutrally, finally leaving the bedroom for the bathroom at the end of the hall. “I'll return for you once the bath is ready. Please don't go to sleep yet.”

You weren't sure you'd be able to sleep again with your new insight. Once the empty air filled with sounds of gushing water, movements within the bathroom, you started to wipe furiously at your groin—inside and out—with the sheet as far as you could reach. There was a slither of hope you could get most of it, a chance you could contact someone for a lifeline even if the price would be ungodly, and consequences treated equivalent to murder if caught.

In a world where humans could no longer love each other, and chose the embrace of complex circuitry and delusion, even the testers needed to contribute to society somehow.

a/n: so, this is going to become a longer oneshot in the future. it'll be diabolical and dark and awful, but also a needed tale given today's climate on sex and such. there's a lot more I want to explore with my ideas and elio, but yeah.

I'm gonna put up a poll soon to decide on a definitive appearance for elio since I just threw in some random characteristics for this.

if you liked this, please reblog it and interact!! I'd love to hear your thoughts more than anything 😭😭

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lovebugism · 1 year

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hiii idk if you’re still taking requests but can you do something smutty with steve in season 3 w his scoops ahoy uniform on after he gets home from work or something🙏🏼🙏🏼

like sub!babygirl!steve is so 🤤🤤😽😽 and a

dom!femreader 🫶❤️❤️ AND OMG HE HAS A MOMMY KINK😧😧 I BEG OF YOU

✶ ┄ OH, BABY !

summary: after a long day at work, steve harrington needs someone (*cough cough* you) to take care of him. pairing: sub!steve harrington / f!reader word count: 5.6k warnings: sub!steve, brief use of a mommy kink, r calls steve daddy like twice i think, mention of a breeding kink, 18+ mdni (ignore any typos, i am way too tired to proofread <3) a/n: hi, it's me again, turning a blurb request into a full length fic. also i can't stop writing for sub steve apparently. all i can say is baby girl is baby girlin real hard in this one lol thanks so much for your request! enjoy xoxo

( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )

It’s sunset by the time his shift at Scoops concludes. He serves the last few remaining customers while Robin less than kindly ushers out the loitering teenagers that have stuck around all day.

A group of moms clad in vividly colored spandex tells him “we’re being bad today” like some sort of mantra that makes them feel better about ordering plain vanilla ice cream. Some middle school aged girls with a mouthful of braces, crimped hair in pigtails, and absolutely wreaking of fruity perfume and daddy’s money try helplessly to flirt with him while they use a matte black card to purchase a banana boat sundae.

His last customers of the night are an old married couple, all gray and wrinkly and smiling like life’s still so new to them. They order one strawberry cone to share between them and hold onto each other’s shaking, frail hands as they make their exit.

Steve smiles as he watches them go. He sees a lot of you and him in them. He hopes by the time you both are all old and brittle, you’ll still be happy like that, still so in love.

Working in the downstairs abyss of Starcourt makes him feel crazy sometimes. With no windows and only manufactured fluorescent lighting for ten hours straight, it makes time feel less and less real.

Sometimes he’ll be in before sun out and cower like some sort of vampire when his shift is over. Other times, he’ll come out when it’s pouring down rain and be absolutely baffled at the sight of it because it was perfectly sunny when his shift started.

Everything else but ice cream all but ceases to exist in the hole of Scoops Ahoy — weather, time, life.

Even though it’s closing when he leaves, Steve doesn’t realize how dark it’s gotten outside until he’s walking through the desolate parking lot to his car. The bustling mall has fallen asleep with the rest of the town. The sky has long turned to a navy velvet, the stars and full moon bright white silk.

It makes his limbs heavy and his eyelids heavier as his tired bones ache for rest.

Steve makes the longer drive out to the cabin rather than his own home to see you. Hopper’s out for some conference which means El gets to spend every ounce of her time at the Wheeler’s and you and Steve get to play house.

He doesn’t bother to knock before he comes in. He shuffles through the entrance like his feet are made of lead and leans his weight against the door after he clicks it closed.

The sound of his arrival gets your attention from where you scurry around the kitchen. A smile pulls slowly at your face as you turn over your shoulder to look at him, placing a cover over a pot of something that smells like your infamous chicken alfredo.

“Hey, Stevie,” you greet with a beam and a sort of sunshine in your voice that Steve’s been missing all day.

His body relaxes for the first time since he got up this morning at the sight of you, freshly showered and in your pajamas for the night — an oversized t-shirt that definitely didn’t belong to you before, because it used to be his.

You look more like home than any four walls could ever be to him.

Steve tries his best to give you a smile in return, but it’s weighed down by fatigue and not all there.

You can see it all over him, every ounce of exhaustion on his lax and tired features. Slinging ice cream for less than grateful customers for ten hours straight has taken an obvious toll on him. The bright blue sailor’s uniform makes him look more boyish, but no less tired — or hot.

Your heart swells at how cozy he looks, fatigued and warmed and in dire need of being taken care of. It makes you glad that you started dinner earlier than normal, even happier that you’ve got the house to yourselves.

You exit the kitchen and walk the short distance to him, taking his scruffy cheeks in your palms and rubbing your thumbs against his cheeks.

“Hard day?” you wonder softly and smile to himself when you feel Steve nestle further into your touch.

The boy hums lowly in reply — neither a yes or a no, but a short hmph that means he doesn’t want to talk about it now. He doesn’t like thinking about work when you’re in his arms and all over him. He’d rather pretend like you’re the only thing that exists and let the rest of the world slip slowly away.

He turns his face to kiss the inside of your wrists. You smell like lavender, he finds, and it makes him that much more tired and needy for you.

His hands settle on your arms, fingers wrapping themselves just below your wrists. “Just tired,” he answers finally. “How was your day?”

“Better than yours, I’m assuming,” you quip with a smile. Your hands drag from his face, down the tense columns of his neck, and settle at the white lapel of his uniform. Steve lets you pull him down by his red neckerchief until his lips press against yours, the pillows of them far cozier than the bed and blanket he so craves right now.

He grows somehow heavier against you. He exhales deeply through his nose as his aching muscles start to relax, the warmth of it brushes against your cupid’s bow. His hands fall to your back and ball into your shirt as he clutches so ardently onto you, as though terrified he might have to go another agonizing ten hours without you.

Your smile contorts against his mouth. A laugh exhales sharply through your nose at this tired boy, exhausted and too willing to let you swallow him whole.

As much as you want to take care of you him, you want him to get a little food in his belly and fresh clothes on his skin.

He’s got freshly laundered cottons sitting in a drawer you cleaned out in your room especially for him and a pot of his favorite food simmering on the stove. He’ll be golden in an hour or more and you’ll happily take care of him then.

Steve whines when you pull away from him. The pathetic sound bubbles from his throat and his face screws up like you’ve actually pained him by not kissing him more. He ducks down, looming over you, as his lips chase yours.

You giggle at him, letting him kiss you — one, two, three quick pecks and a fourth sweeter, more drawn-out one he presses against you as the two of you stumble back into the living room.

“You need to eat first, okay?” you protest when you part from him again, lips clicking wetly as they separate. “You probably haven’t had anything all day.”

“I had half a banana in the break room at lunch,” he retorts, half-heartedly.

“Exactly,” you scold. “Go get changed and then we can eat, ‘kay?”

“If you wanted to see me naked so bad, you could’ve just said.”

You roll your eyes at him and how he’s still so sly despite being so damn tired. You push playfully against his chest and squirm out from under where he’d cornered you between his body and the back of the couch. “You smell like a sundae and cheap cologne—”

“Blame those assholes from Abercrombie.”

“—hit the showers, Harrington,” you tell him with a playful sternness, swatting him on the ass as you pass by him.

The action stopped surprising him a long time ago. He’d complained relentlessly about corporate and the stupid outfit they made him wear to work every morning until he realized how much you liked it.

After that, Steve figured he could put up with the itching and the chaffing and the weird stares from other mall-goers. As long as it meant you being unable to keep your hands off of him, dropping to your knees in front of him before he left for work, visiting him at lunch because you just had to see him again.

“You comin’ too, or…?” he jokes in reply, already inching towards the bathroom, but secretly hoping you’ll say yes.

You refuse to amuse him, though, and instead tell him that you have to keep stirring the pasta so it won’t burn. He’s too tired and too excited to wash all the muck of the long workday from his body to beg.

You knew just what he needed — like you always do. He’s as good as gold by the time he gets out of the shower, smelling of your shampoo and practically glittering at how good he feels.

His skin gets to breathe for the first time all day when he slips on a pair of boxers and a faded forest green Hawkins High sweatshirt. They’re freshly washed. He can tell by how soft they feel and the way they smell of fresh detergent.

It makes his heart swell.

While he’s been slinging ice cream and questioning all of his life choices, you’ve been washing his clothes, folding them and putting the in their own drawer in your dresser. You’ve been cooking him his favorite dinner, knowing he hasn’t eaten all day, because you know everything about him.

You do it all because you love him. You don’t have to think twice about it before you so effortlessly take care of him.

He swears you’ll feed him if he begs hard enough, but Steve hasn’t reached that level of tiredness yet. He does, however, force you to sit halfway in his lap while the both of you opt to eat on the couch in the living room rather than the kitchen table.

A repeat of Miami Vice plays on the tiny television across the room and you tell him about what you’d done on your day off in between shoveling forkfuls of pasta into your mouth with your legs slung into his lap.

Most of it was spent taking care of chores, a feat made harder without Hopper and El to take on the extra workloads but easier because their absence meant less shit to get done.

You drove Dustin and Lucas to the Wheeler’s house later that morning, then doubled back across Hawkins when Max called and all but begged you to free her from the hellscape on Cherry Lane, as she so lovingly put it. You picked her up and dropped her off with the rest of her friends.

And even though they all swore they had rides back home, they’d called again some hours later and asked too sweetly if you could take them back across town.

You complain and grumble about it, but you do it for them anyway.

Because you take care of people. That’s just what you do.

“So you were a personal chauffeur for a bunch of kids all day?” Steve jokes and laughs to himself as he swipes a smudge of alfredo sauce from your chin with his thumb

“Basically,” you nod in reply.

When that’s all done — and the episode is over and the dishes are in the sink and your teeth are freshly brushed — you tell Steve to get into bed, and then to get his head out of the gutter at the look he gives you after.

He’s pleasantly surprised when you bring a whole basket of things from the bathroom and into your bedroom. He watches silently, obediently, as you light a candle on the far side of the room before climbing into bed beside him.

“Scoot down a little,” you tell him. “And take off your shirt.”

He does it all without question. He rises, strips himself of his top, and tosses the thing mindlessly on the floor beside the bed. With his lean torso and bare chest on display, spotted with tufts of chestnut-colored hair and smelling of your body wash, he lazes back onto the bed again with his head on the pillows.

Steve holds his breathe when you straddle his chest.

“Comfy?” you ask him quietly.

He can only nod in response.

His eyes are wide, twinkling with love and curiosity. It makes you smile. He’s always so soft in his way, so compliant with you — and, fuck, if you don’t love how he looks when he’s underneath you.

You lean down to press a chaste kiss to the chiseled tip of his nose then reach for one of the many bottles stacked inside the wicker basket. You drip the rose-scented liquid onto a cottonpad and tell him that it’s cleanser.

“I thought I was already clean?” he retorts.

“Well, this shit is gonna make ya glow like a baby, Harrington,” you tell him and swipe the stuff up and down his face — across his forehead, along his nose, and around his stubbly jaw. “Which means it’s perfect for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means you’re a baby,” you quip once, then smile lovingly down at him. “My baby,” you correct.

“Damn straight,” he hums with a soft smile, then shuts his eyes when you trade the cleanser for what you call a liquid exfoliator. He doesn’t ask what that means. He doesn’t say much of anything really, because he’s enamored with the way you dote on him.

Your day has been just as busy as his, maybe not as mind-numbing, but still busy. You’ve been bouncing all across town, trying to make sure a bunch of kids weren’t putting themselves in total danger — Steve knows firsthand how hard that can be.

And yet, you keep caring for him, like it’s more important than how tired you must be.

The way you’ve settled on top of him is just a bonus. It’s not as domineering as you usually are in this position, straddling your legs over him and forcing his face between your legs with your fingers tangled in his hair. He wouldn’t have minded if that’s what you’d done in the first place. He would’ve thanked you for it, really.

It’s comforting more than it is anything, the subtle weight of you on top of him, keeping him grounded.

You rub something that feels like lotion into his skin. The tips of your fingers massage his face — they dig softly into his temples, relieving all the strain there, then trace around his curve of his jaw. Steve sighs and melts into your touch. It makes you laugh.

“Look at you,” you giggle, all soft like the moonlight streaming in rays from the windows. Then you tease him. “My baby’s gettin’ all pampered tonight, huh?”

“That stuff smells really good,” he notes. “Think it’s safe enough to taste?”

You know he’s joking, but you flick him in the center of his freshly moisturized forehead anyway, when his tongue darts out the side of his mouth to lick around his lips.

“You’re such an idiot,” you scold with a laugh. “There’s no way we’re gonna be able to have a kid if you keep acting like one, Steve Harrington.”

The boy's eyes fly open. “…A kid?” he repeats in something short of a whisper.

You only hum in reply with a little shrug like you’re trying to play it all off. Like you didn’t just drop the biggest bomb on him and left him to pick up the pieces. Like it isn't the sweetest goddamn thing he’s ever heard in his life (even though you are sort of making fun of him).

“You want a kid with me?” he presses, eyes sparkling and full of hope.

“‘Course I do,” you shrug again, focusing on capping the moisturizer and putting it away rather than meeting his intense gaze. “Want anything and everything with you, Stevie.”

The boy doesn’t bother to hide the grin your words put on his face. He’s all but beaming from where he lays beneath you, trying to make sure he’s still breathing because his heart has started to flutter something fierce.

It was something the two of you only ever talked about in passing — usually him bringing up the idea of having kids and you swatting them all down.

“We’re too young,” you tell him. “We’re too broke”, “we’re too dumb.” The occasional “my dad is literally in the next room, he’ll kill you if he hears you talking like that” shuts him up real quick.

But here you are now, telling him you want a baby with him, that you want everything with him. It drives him absolutely insane.

“Yeah?” he hums in response, idle hands rising and settling upon your bare thighs, rubbing at the smooth skin there, petting you almost. The room gets suddenly and unbearably hot with the look he gives you, innocent and knowing and hungry.

You feel him shift from underneath you, the hardening cock in his boxers making it hard to stay as comfortable as he had been.

“You wanna be a mommy, honey?” he all but coos. “Wanna take care of our kids like you take care of me?”

Though his words set a fire in the pit of your stomach, the tone of them makes you roll your eyes. It’s like flipping a light switch when it comes to Steve. It takes next to nothing to turn him into a puddle of mush.

He’s always raring to go when it comes to you, and you’d be lying if you said it was totally invigorating.

“What happened to my sweet, sleepy, baby Stevie, huh?” you tease, hands leaving his face to caress the ones he’s got resting on your thighs. “Thought you were too tired?”

He shakes his head defiantly. “Never too tired for you.”

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you scold with bubbly laughter when you feel his large hands trail up your legs. His finger falls beneath your shirt, the tips of them sneaking into the rounded hems of your underwear, all but cupping your ass to drag you further up his chest.

He’s practically salivating at the mere thought of tasting you. Of knowing that the only thing separating you from him is a couple of inches and the thin fabric of your underwear.

He knows that when he slides them to the side, you’ll be wet and needing him underneath, slick enough for his tongue to slip right in.

And, truth be told, oral sex wasn’t the easiest when you weren’t alone. It was too precarious of a position. If Hopper knocked on the door and barged in hardly a moment later, you needed to break away quickly.

So when your dad and little sister were home, it was easier to use your hands to get each other off. And, maybe, if Steve was real good, you’d let him fuck you.

But his mouth on you? There wasn’t enough good he could be for you to let him do that, not when your father was on the other side of the door in the living room. Because you’re pretty sure death would be easier than your dad catching Steve Harrington giving cunnilingus to his daughter. You’re pretty sure you’d die on the spot, anyway.

But Hopper is miles away. Your sister is on the other side of town. And you’re alone with your boyfriend, hidden away in a cabin in the middle of the woods. It’s the perfect recipe for the best sex of your life.

“Don’t care,” Steve murmurs, pressing kisses to the inner parts of your thigh when he settles you more intently over his shoulders. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah?” you croon. From below you, the boy notes the arched brow and knowing glint in your eye that usually means trouble. “Daddy wants to make mommy feel good, huh?”

Steve knows exactly why you said it. Why you chose to say it like that. It’s the same reason you brought up the kid thing in the first place. Because you knew it would drive him crazy.

And it’s not like you ever had to try to make him mental, all you really had to do was walk into a room and he was done for. But you didn’t just want to just make him go insane, you wanted to ruin him.

And you know you’ve done just that when a groan spills from his mouth and two strong hands dig rather ruthlessly into your hips. He pulls you down without warning, pressing your clothed pussy closer to his face and dragging his nose between your covered lips. A moan leaves your mouth in a heavy exhale when the tip of it nudges your clit.

“Like being called daddy, huh?” you tease through bated breaths.

Steve nods in reply as he hooks a finger through the hem of your panties and slides them to the side, putting your pretty, glistening pussy on display for him.

He was right about what he said before — you were soaked.

All but drunk on the sight of you, he presses open-mouthed kisses to your inner thigh. “Like the other thing, too,” he mumbles against your skin, like he’s hiding himself there.

“The other thing?” you question with pinched brows. The confusion ebbs like a rolling tide as you realize: “Oh. You wanna call me mommy, Stevie?” you ask with a joking lilt.

“Shut up,” he groans against you.

He’s pleasantly surprised when your hand grabs the strands of his hair like reigns, pulling him back just before he puts his mouth on your pussy. He’s even more stunned at the stern expression taking over your features, not nearly as playful as you’d been moments before.

Suddenly you’re ten feet tall, and he’s nothing more than an ant, at the mercy of your boot.

“That’s no way to talk to your mommy, is it, Stevie?”

He shakes his head with glazed over eyes. “Sorry.”

“Sorry… what?”

There is an underlying tone in your voice, something teasing and yet somehow serious all at once. It’d make him roll his eyes if he weren’t lying beneath you like this. Now, with your pussy mere inches from his face, he isn’t quite sure how to be anything but obedient.

“Sorry, mommy,” he corrects.

A flip switches and you’re smiling again. “Good boy,” you praise and it makes his cock twitch in the confines of his boxers. Your hand guides him to your pussy again.

Steve’s always been good at oral. A little too good, actually. It made you jealous sometimes, to know that his technique has been perfected over years of experience.

“All the other girls were just practice for you, honey,” he’d soothe your seething rage with a wink and a tongue shoved deep into your cunt.

You believe him now, that every other girl was just an obstacle for him to get to you, because no one’s had him like this. No one will ever have him like this.

You’re the one who’s got him on his back with his mouth on your pussy. You’re the one who’s got him calling you mommy.

And it makes you feel like a fucking giant.

He wastes little time to envelope your cunt with his mouth. You feel the muffled grunt he lets out at the tangy and familiar taste of you. His tongue pushes into your cunt, licking you with the intent of devouring you entirely. His nose presses intently against your clit, prodding the little button as you ride his face. He encourages every thrust, guiding your hips up and down his mouth.

“Fuck, Stevie,” you whine and feel him smile drunkenly against your pussy, never ceasing his assault against your sensitive skin.

Your head falls back, suddenly too heavy to hold up. Your gaze settles on the ceiling, though you’re not exactly looking at it, and moans fall from your open mouth and into the heavy air — billowing laments in the moonlight.

“You make me feel so good,” you murmur to yourself, but to him especially, knowing he turns into a ticking time bomb when he’s praised. “Always make mommy feel so fucking good, baby.”

He groans against you, and it makes your hips twitch over his face.

Your head turns and your glazed over eyes fall on the hard cock trapped in his underwear. It’s more than apparent against the thin fabric with a wet patch of precum darkening the plaid cotton. The sight of it, paired with his lips wrapped around your clit, makes you moan most pitifully.

“Fuck, Steve,” you cry. “You’re gonna make me come. Holy shit, baby— gonna come so hard in your mouth.” The promise makes Steve double his efforts against you, wanting nothing more than to taste every drop you can give him. “I’ll ride you after, 'kay? Make you come so hard you can’t see straight. Fuck. I’m so fucking close.”

You figure his muffled whine is an affirmative.

“If you make me come now, maybe I’ll let you come inside me—”

You barely get to finish your sentence before Steve’s wrapping his arms around your thighs and keeping you pressed against his face. His tongue works overtime inside of your cunt, attentively flicking against every part of your velvet walls that it can reach, while his nose nudges your clit most relentlessly.

It has you reaching your climax within seconds, hips jerking against him while his hold on you tightens. Steve only lets you go when he’s certain you’ve ridden out every inch of your orgasm.

You’re shaking and half-numb when you unfold your body from his and settle next to him on the bed. You press yourself over him as your lips swallow his, tasting yourself on his mouth that glistens with you.

Your torso is splayed over his bare one, knees digging into the mattress at his side as you arch your back to push yourself further into him.

“Was that good for you?” he mutters after you’ve pulled away, sliding the tip of your nose up and down the bridge of his.

A laugh escapes you in a sharp scoff. If he couldn’t have felt how good it was for you — after you all but writhed against him — surely he must’ve tasted it dripping like honey from your cunt.

“It’s always good,” you assure him, then murmur more quietly, “Always so good for mommy.”

You keep the promise you’d made him no more than minutes beforehand. You pull down his boxers at the same time he’s trying to get you out of your shirt, and it’s just a mess of yearning limbs until the both of you are naked.

You rub yourself over his cock a few times, getting it all slick with you in the place of lube, because you know taking him is never an easy feat. The stretch of his dick inside you is always delicious but fuck if it doesn’t burn. It’s like fire in every sense of the word, hot and filthy paired with a distant ache.

Steve lets you set the pace as you get used to his length nestled deep inside your velvet. His hands rest compliantly on your hips as you grind against him, honeyed gaze fixed on your fucked out features as you take him — brows pinched, eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

Then, when every inch of him is snug in your cunt and your senses return to you, you deny him of his want to touch you. Your fingers wrap around his wrists and push them into the pillow on either side of his head. “Mommy didn’t say you could touch her, did she?” you purr to him as you lean over him. He shakes his head obediently, if only it meant that you kept fucking yourself on top of him.

And you do. Most ardently.

You keep your bare chest pressed against his fuzzy one, nose-to-nose as you slide your hips over his. And even though he’s had you like this before (in this position and many others), it feels brand new every time. It’s like he’s never felt you before despite how familiar you feel.

It triggers his body into a sense of fight of flight, as though frightened he’ll never get to have you again. It leaves him fucking you like it’ll be the last time he’s inside you, every fucking time.

It never is, though — obviously. Most times he only has to wait a couple minutes or more before he gets to take you again.

But now, with his hands balled into fists beside his head and your’s braced on his chest, digging into the patch of hair there as you rock back and forth on his hard cock — the tip of it nestled deep inside of you and hitting every sweet spot that makes you keen — has left him an absolute wreck beneath you.

He’s chasing his pleasure like he’s never felt it before. Like he won’t feel it again.

“Your cock feels so good, Stevie,” you moan above him.

“‘M not gonna last long, baby,” he mutters between harsh and labored pants.

“’S okay… I want you to come,” you promise and press a too sweet kiss to his swollen, pink lips. You move your hips more intently over him. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills your bedroom. “Want you to fill me up.”

“Yeah?” he breathes out in something short of a whimper. His eyes are glassy and his brows are furrowed and it takes everything in him not to fuck up into you — because he wants to be good, he wants to be good for you.

“Yeah… Want you come in me… Fuck me until it takes,” you babble over top of him, knowing exactly what it’s doing to the whining boy beneath you. “Wanna give you a baby— fuck— I wanna make you a daddy, Stevie.”

A whine spills from his throat. His toes curl into the fabric of your comforter, eyes rolling back into his head, body tensing as he digs his fingers into the skin of his palms that still ache to touch you.

Your name spills from his mouth along with a string of curses and pretty little cries when he stuffs you full of his come.

You happily accept every load he shoots into you as work him through every aftershock of his orgasm. Yours doesn’t come so easy — you roll your hips over yourself and rub your clit until you’re twitching right along with him.

You come down from your highs together with a tender softness. You lay over him, one hand combing through his curls and the other stroking softly at his sweat-slicked bicep. You watch with heavy eyes as his orgasm rolls over him.

His chest rises and falls with every heavy breath, stuttering when another pang of pleasure hits him all of a sudden. “Fuck,” he whines harshly into the heavy air.

He’s happy you don’t deny him when his arms wrap around your waist, hands rubbing up and down the expanse of your slick back.

You press tiny kisses to his face as he comes down — his nose, his cheeks, his forehead his stubbly chin and jaw. You press one, two, three pecks to his lips before you slide off of him, then laugh when he whines.

You’re gone for hardly more than three minutes, but to Steve, it feels like an eternity’s gone by.

You return from the bathroom, wiped freshly clean, and blow out the nearly burnt-out candle on your dresser before you slither back into his side. One of his arms curls beneath your shoulders to pull you closer to him with his other rests on the back of yours that’s settled on his chest.

You share one pillow, noses inches away from one another’s, while you bask in the warm moment and the sex-coated air around you before you have to break it.

“You know I’m still on the pill, right?” you ask him.

He nods.

“And that we’re—”

“Way too young to have a kid right now?” he finishes for you, though the idea makes him sad. He nods.

“Yeah… And—”

“Too broke? I know that too.”

“Also my—”

“Your dad would kill me if I got you pregnant?”

It makes you laugh. You hadn’t realized you’d talked about having kids this many times — at least, not enough for him to memorize all the reasons why it’s not the best idea right now.

“Yeah, I know it’s not happening any time soon,” Steve says with a sigh. “I like to pretend, though. Plus, it’s not even about that to me, you know? I just… I just like being with you and… everything.”

Everything, you repeat to yourself. A word that means so much and nothing at all.

No one knows what everything means, they just know that it’s a lot, a whole lot. That’s what makes it so special. Steve wants it all with you — the overbearing dad, the sister with powers, the teenage kids who never let you have a single second to yourselves when they’re around.

It’s a lot sometimes, most times, but he’ll weather it all with you.

“You like being with me?” you echo just to see him nod.

He does. “I love being with you,” he corrects.

“Love calling me mommy, too, huh?”

He realizes then, the sincere moment was just a set-up for that stupid joke. He groans and flops his head back on the pillow, but makes no move to distance himself from you.

“Oh, my god,” he moans in annoyance. “Am I gonna have to deal with this the rest of my life?”

You nod. “Sorry, Harrington, but I’m never letting that shit go.”

Good, he thinks to himself, even though he pretends to hate it because it makes you laugh. He never wants you to stop.

#published by bug #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stevie oneshot #st oneshots

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g04distributors · 1 year

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Unlocking the Power of Soap town: H & D Products' Distributor and Supplier from Ahmedabad, Gujrat India.

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gofordistributors · 1 year

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hcpwellness · 8 months

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dorayakichan · 9 months

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Windbreaker: first meeting + confession + dating headcanon (Part 2)

Pairing: Kaneshiro, Noah, Ryohei x gn!reader

Fluff

Kaneshiro

It was through Momoko, your friend that you were able to meet Kaneshiro. After you had gone to the U.S. when you were young, you still kept in touch with your best friend Momoko. So the first thing you did when you came back was meet up with her.

On that day you had decided to have a sleepover together so you would be staying at her house. When you went into her house with her to greet her grandfather you saw a girl with silver hair talking with him. As you greeted him and both of you left your eyes couldn’t stop glancing at her. As soon as you went into your room you asked your friend.

“Who was that girl?” “That’s Dakeda Kaneshiro, leader of the Kazuma crew. You have heard about the Kazuma crew right?” You stared blankly at her.

“They are the most famous biking crew in Japan and Kaneshiro is a 3 times world winner.” “Ahh…uhhh…wow” It was too much information to take in for you but nodded remembering the fact that her grandfather was a bike manufacturer.

After that, you and Momoko continued talking until dinner time came. As dinner came and passed by you weren’t able to see that girl again.

It was late at night after having talked some more and watched a movie, Momoko had fallen asleep, leaving you awake with nothing to do besides going out for some fresh air.

As you sat outside on one of the stools you didn’t notice a figure come and sit right next to you. “Couldn’t sleep?” You jumped, hearing the voice that came right next to you but calmed as you saw Kaneshiro's calm side profile looking at the moon. As your eyes landed on her they were unable to stop gazing at her beautiful features, she was incredibly dazzling. Yet she gave off an extremely unapproachable vibe.

“What? Too lost in my beauty?” she mockingly asked.

“Yeah…” You nodded only seconds later to realize what you had just said as you saw her eyes widen turning in your direction.

“I…I..but you actually are.” You lowered your head, fidgeting with your hands as your voice became barely above a whisper.

A chuckle escaped her mouth as she noticed your embarrassed state.

The next day you were so embarrassed you would have preferred never waking up after what you did last night. Were you crazy? How could you say such things to a complete stranger maybe it was the atmosphere you thought as you reached the door of the bathroom. Before going in you slapped hard your face trying to stop the surge of more thoughts. The door opened to reveal none other than Kaneshiro, eyes flickering for some seconds into a shock gazing at your red cheeks which you had just slapped seconds ago.

Now you had done it.

The breakfast was so awkward when you saw Kaneshiro coming there too. So awkward that even your friend who was trying to strike up a conversation with you noticed how you had completely lost it.

“Is everything okay?” Momoko asked after you finished breakfast. Only to spend the next 30 minutes listening to how you had made a fool of yourself in front of Kaneshiro.

“But why are you so worried, It’s not like you will have to cross paths with her in the future?” an extremely true fact and that’s how you went with your day and week telling yourself that it could happen it was not like you would have an encounter with her ever again.

“Yep, never again,” you said to yourself only to walk down the street with your ice cream, trip on your own two legs, and fall, with ice cream spilling all over your shirt. “Damn it.”

“You should see where you’re walking.”Kaneshiro's voice rang threw your ears as you raised your head meeting eyes with her. Great another one. As Kaneshiro helped you up you could see behind her two other guys one with black long hair and a scar in his eye and another with a Yankee kind of hairstyle. “Who is that Kaneshiro?” one of them asked.

She looked at you as you waited for her response, clearly intimidated by the two men and extremely flustered. “My friend.”

That’s basically how it all started your friendship with Kaneshiro. You two would meet up more and although you had no idea about bikes and stuff she taught you a lot as you also taught her a lot about your interests and passions too.

After weeks of knowing each-other, you could definitely see that you felt more than just, respect and love as a friend for her, it was something more. It was not admiration either. That’s how you started noticing the signs of how you would stare at her lips and imagine how they would feel if you could kiss them. When she talked, listening to her voice made you feel so comfortable and happy. When her eyes stared into yours, how your heart would start beating fast.

It was obvious you had fallen for the Dakeda Kaneshiro. Fallen so deep and so hard you had no idea what to do with those feelings, as you didn’t want to destroy what you had. But one day your parents called you asking to go back to the U.S. You had to start university soon.

It was a hard decision you made that day choosing to keep those feelings to yourself or expressing it all and leaving like that. Neither was a good option. One would hurt you but the other how would it make Kaneshiro feel? No matter what her answer was.

So you decided to pour all your heart and soul into a conversation you had with Momoko and to your surprise minutes after that you saw Kaneshiro come close to where you both were sitting.

“Hi!” you awkwardly greeted her hoping she had not heard what you said. “So I guess you’re a coward after all.” Kaneshiro left after saying what she had to say.

“I guess this is your last chance.” your friend said encouraging you to go after her. So that’s what you did running to her. “Kaneshiro wait…” you said but she did not stop walking, going towards the place where she was going to meet her crew, as some of the guys looked at you with annoyed expressions as you tried to talk to Kaneshiro and followed her. But you did not care, it was your last chance.

“DAKEDA KANESHIRO I LIKE YOU” you screamed at the top of your lungs. She stilled in her place not turning around as the eyes of her crew widened, witnessing the scene in front of them.

“I don’t like you as a friend though, I have feelings for you that go beyond friendship. In the beginning, I wasn’t sure what these feelings were and I felt that it was not right to feel like this for you as I didn’t want you to hate me or stop being my friend. But with time I understood that I just couldn’t stop them…” You paused “I…I wanted to hold you, I wanted to hug you and kiss you. I wanted us to go on dates, I wanted you to look at me as more than just a friend, I started being greedy for more. That’s why I could not dare express my feelings. How could such an amazing person like you like me back? So that’s why when I found out I had to leave I thought that maybe it was better to keep these feelings buried in me forever, at least I would not have left you confused or sad or angry with me.”

“Ha…” she sighed as she turned walking up to you. “What an idiot,” she said as she proceeded to kiss you.

After that you both started dating when you went to university. It was sad to be apart and missing her sometimes it was too much yet you both endured. When she had races that required her to come to the U.S., no matter where, you would go and meet her.

When you had finally finished your bachelor studies you decided to get your master's in Japan. Having been apart from her for so long had been hard. After you went back although you were scared if everything would be okay. It really went well. Kaneshiro was a loyal one in love with you and only you, most of all she was the only one able to deal with your antics and clumsiness.

From her point of view, those things were what made you even more adorable in her eyes. How could she leave without you in her life when you brought the most smiles and happiness into hers? It was not possible now you were everything to her as she was to you.

Noah

You met Noah when she came to Korea bothering Jay each and every second trying to race with him. She did not talk to you as she walked up to Jay speaking in english and asking him to race for the nth time.

“Who is she?” You asked Jay, who turned to look at you and then shrugged it off going past her.

“Bye,” he told you as he entered inside his home, not even giving Noah an acknowledging look.

“Aghhh” she began hitting the wall in anger. “So I believe you want to race with Jay right?” you asked her, trying to start a conversation. “Whatever…” she said not even glancing at you and walking in the same direction you were supposed to go to reach home.

You followed her walking behind her, until she snapped and turned in your direction. “What do you want? Why are you following me?” You were startled for a second and extended your hand pointing in the direction of your home. “Because I live there?” you said questioningly.

As her eyes followed your hand, she stared for some seconds and turned to walk away. Just as she was about to take another step her stomach started growling. “Are you hungry?” you asked her as she turned once again with a very subtle look of embarrassment and annoyance on her face.

“I’m a great cook,” you informed her, not expecting an answer back. “If not, I can also order take-out.”

That is how Noah ended up having dinner at your house that day and even sleeping in. The next morning, you also gave her breakfast, and the more you did this stuff for her the less aggressive she became towards you. ‘She resembles a stray kitten.’ you thought, chuckling to yourself.

“What are you laughing at?” Noah who had just come out of the shower asked. “Nothing.” You brushed it off, asking her something that would pique her interest. “So you want to race with Jay right?” she nodded. “Then, I guess I could talk to him about this when I go to school.” You said as you took your bag. “If you want you can stay here,” you offered her.

You knew she was just a stranger but you felt no bad vibes coming from her besides her aggressiveness and her persistence to race Jay she seemed okay. So you were not worried.

After that, some time passed until she was finally able to race, and then Harry came too, welcoming himself into your home. While you did not mind as you sometimes felt lonely living in that big house, you noticed how you had changed the way you looked at Noah. Sometimes as she talked with Harry you felt jealous of how they communicated so well with each-other, You also felt slightly annoyed how you had to go to school or help the guys train as all you wanted was to spend more time with Noah.

It took a very long time before you were able to finally express your feelings to Noah as she was packing her bags to leave you slipped a written letter in the pocket of her jacket, where you had basically told her all about how you felt.

Some months passed after she left and you felt lonely and very sad. She had never said anything after that, not even texted or called you. Maybe she had read the letter, but she did not want to reply. You had failed…or so you thought.

It was 2 a.m. when you heard a sound, your front door unlocking. Imagine the fright as you took the lamp ready to hit the intruder in the head, only for the light to flicker on as you came face to face with Noah. “What do you think you’re doing?” Noah looked displeased, as she left her luggage in the door and went to sit on the couch. “What?..... Why at this hour?...How?...” You had just woken up alarmed, previously scared that there was an intruder and now coming face to face with the girl you had a big crush on.

“Didn’t you say in your letter that I was always welcome and if you had to you’d be waiting for me?” she asked, not waiting for a response as she continued. “I come all this way and I’m greeted by you trying to murder me.” “You read my letter?” you interrupted her as you continued standing while looking shocked at her.

“Yeah..” she turned her head so you were not able to see her facial expression as you strode towards Noah sitting next to her. “But you didn't text me or at least reply or anything at all. I thought you…” “Just shut up! I’m here so I guess you got your answer.” She continued looking on the other side. “What answer?” you asked perplexed were you maybe forgetting something?

“The one in the letter!” She faced you, glaring. “You’re eyes widened remembering the last sentence you had written, to her now understanding why she had not answered. You were such an idiot.”

‘Noah if you think or even have made a decision that you maybe, like me back, then the next time you come find me and we meet I’ll take it as a yes from you.’

Yep, you were the biggest idiot to ever exist, you had totally forgotten about that part. Not wasting any more time you embraced her into a warm hug leaving Noah speechless, Cupping her cheeks you gave her a peck on the lips. Noah was shocked as you saw the color change in her face, she became red so red, she could resemble a tomato. “Ok, whatever. I'm hungry.” She walked away as you chuckled going to the kitchen to prepare some food for your girlfriend.

Dating Noah was fun especially as she was so easy to tease. You had so much fun every time you saw her redden after you had thrown a flirting comment at her out of nowhere. Or how she would come cuddling next to you, whenever you were asleep or thought so because she did not want to admit that her body craved yours, the need to be held close to you.

You had come like a small ray of light in her world and now you were the sun that warmed her world, Noah could never go back anymore to a world without you.

Ryohei

During your visit to Japan with Jay, Shelly, Dom, and TJ, you first met Ryohei when his gang was about to start a fight with the guys due to none other than TJ acting as if he was tough.

You facepalmed yourself as you were about to intervene hearing TJ’s words which only you could understand because besides him you were the only one who knew Japanese, but stopped when you saw Ryohei walk in the middle saying sorry and leaving just like that with a fake smile on his face.

‘That was weird.’ you thought as you went straight to the place where Jay would repair his bike.

The second time you saw Ryohei was when Dom suggested the team battle. After they left and Jay, Dom, Noah, and Harry agreed to become a team together, you went to find a good place to eat. Noticing how none of them seemed to be thinking about the most important thing, especially before a race. As you finally found the restaurant, you texted everyone the location, waiting for them before going inside.

That’s when you notice a familiar black-haired face walking inside an alley not far from the restaurant. As you had nothing better to do you decided to follow. Those Kazuma crew guys gave you a weird vibe, so why not observe them for a bit?

As you followed behind him he turned into a corner and then another as you arrived on a road with no way out you heard a voice behind you. “Looking for me?” You backed away startled.

“Didn’t we say we would have the team battle with you and your friends later today? Why are you following me?” you had no excuse.

“Can’t I follow someone I’m suspicious of?” you chose to come out with the truth rather than try to make up excuses. “Hmm..suspicious?”

He moved away from you. Lighting a cigar while crouching down with his back close to the wall. Your eyes followed him as you waited, not sure for what. “Shouldn’t we be suspicious of you more than you are of us? Friend of Mahon Jo’s nephew?” “I have no idea what your deal is with Jay’s uncle but I mean you first messed with us, plus you look like a gang, while we only came here with no other intention besides fixing Jay’s bike.” “That garbage?” He said, chuckling.

“I don’t see the point of even trying for something like that but sure go ahead if you can.” You had to admit Jay’s bike was in horrible shape, a miracle needed to occur for it to actually be repaired. So although you got annoyed by what he said you decided to change the topic as you went next to him with your back against the wall as your eyes stared at his crouched figure.

“Whatever…I just wanted to make sure, you won’t pull any tricks later.” “As if we need to.” “You’re pretty confident you know?” “Isn’t it normal?” he asked you. “I mean I get it you are one of the best crews in the world and stuff…but those guys are no joke either.” “We’ll see, " he said, getting up.”

He came closer to where you were standing, slightly lowering his head. “It’s dangerous following strangers around, you were just lucky today,” Ryohei whispered in your ear, leaving you there.

After the battle had finished and Jay had finally woken up, it was late at night when you remembered how you had forgotten your jacket where the race had happened. “It’s an expensive one.” You told Shelly and Dom as you got up to go retrieve it, going there alone after refusing to be accompanied by either of them. They had already gone through so much, that they needed to rest.

“I’ll be quick,” you told them running, not leaving them a chance to protest.

As you arrived at the place you saw a gang of guys, wearing some jackets that looked like the Kazuma crew logo talking amongst each-other. You tried to walk inconspicuously, but your efforts were for nothing as you heard someone say. “Wasn’t that person with those ‘Light Cavalry’ and the korean nobody bastards?” “Yeah, I think they were.” You acted like you didn’t hear them as you walked trying to see where you had dropped it.

“Hey, you!” One of them said which went to deaf ears as you continued searching. “Hey, answer when I call you!” That same one said as they yanked your arm, making you face them.

“Let go!” you answered him. “What if I don’t?” He mocked you as the guys in the back laughed. “I’ll show you what it means to mess with me,” you answered as you got ready to kick him.

“Leave them alone.” A voice you had now gotten accustomed to said coming from the other direction. “Oh, Ryohei this…” but the guy was unable to finish his sentence as Ryohei ordered. “Take your hands off.” He walked closer to where you both were standing as the other guy let you go.

“Didn't you come here to retrieve something?” he asked you as you were about to leave. You turned towards him as he extended his arm giving you your jacket. “Thanks!” You said extending your arm to take it, only for him to put it behind his back. “Didn’t I tell you to be careful last time?” He said. “I wasn’t following anyone.”

“Come with me.” He took you somewhere else far from his gang as he sat down on a bench. “I told you before that you were lucky, but I think it ran out now.” You stared at him. “C’mon sit.” He patted the place next to him. You complied, hoping he would give you that jacket as soon as possible.

“Just get to the point, What do you want?” You asked, crossing your arms. “A date.” “A WHAT?” you shouted getting up. His eyes were serious this time as they looked at you. “You don’t want your jacket back?” “I..want it but this has nothing to do with what we were talking about right now. “And I also told you it’s dangerous but you walk in the middle of the night near a gang as if you’re going to the park with no fear in your eyes. This is your punishment for not heeding my advice. Come on a date with me and I’ll give you back your jacket.” Leaving you speechless as he vanished from your sight.

That is how you ended up going on a date with Ryohei. With the Kazuma crew guy out of nowhere! During the date, you were finally able to notice why he was being like that to you. He definitely liked you, you thought to yourself as you saw him acting shy when your hands almost brushed. ‘Is this guy for real?’ you asked bewildered.

Besides that one date, you went on more dates. You both also started calling and texting on the phone often until he finally confessed. Due to his weird approach in the beginning you had your doubts but with time you understood that was just the way he was and you started crushing on him more and more.

So when he finally confessed you warned him: “You sure you won’t regret it? I’m a handful.” He smiled as he pushed you towards the wall nearby. “Never.” Was his answer as he latched his lips with yours, devouring all he could get of you.

So you started dating. Ryohei wasn’t the type to express it much when there were people around but as soon as you both were alone he would engulf you in his embrace and kiss every part of you, whispering how much he adored you.

From his appearance, you had never expected him to be this way, but he was extremely touchy when you both were alone so much that you sometimes asked yourself how was this guy so different when he was with you in comparison to others.

He was also very patient and understanding and would always worry about you if you tried doing something reckless. The more time went by, the more you fell deep in the abyss of love for him. It was certain now you both were smitten for each-other and there was no way this feeling would change for a very long time.

#windbreaker webtoon #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker headcanon #dakeda kaneshiro #kazuma crew #noah x reader #noah windbreaker #ryohei windbreaker #kaneshiro windbreaker

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theharrowing · 3 months

Text

Collateral 🗡️ POV: Seokjin

After a successful day of scheming, Seokjin calls his favorite plaything to join him and Hoseok for a little fun.

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

❗ THIS IS A CHARACTER POV CHAPTER!!!

if you do not wish to perceive any POV that is not the main character, please feel free to skip this one!

🗡️Seokjin x Hoseok

🗡️ word count: 7.2k

🗡️ mafia au, dishonest characters, established relationship, bdsm, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit, 21+

🗡️ warnings: top Seokjin with mention of bottom Hoseok; top Hoseok & bottom Seokjin; scheming; mention of the use of heroin; use of the word "whore" not meant derogatorily, but not always kindly; allusion to puppy play; talk of manufacturing and selling drugs with the purpose of getting people addicted; shower play; enema play; light humiliation; ass eating & fingering; Seokjin is...morally grey at best.

🗡️ notes: mc is referred to in 3rd person (she/her) pronouns for this chapter! listen: Seokjin is not the nicest person, so please take the way he speaks with a grain of salt. it is hard to put everyone's full intentions into the POV scenes because i still need there to be surprises later on!!! but i feel like this is going to really help to solidify the way many of you feel about this character hehehe. i hope you enjoy!

🗡️ early draft beta read by @blog-name-idk - with minor unbeta'd edits done since.

🗡️ posted march 2024 - originally jan. 2023 | read on ao3

"She's not going to go for it," Hoseok teases as he reaches around Seokjin's broad shoulders from behind and straightens out his burgundy satin tie.

Seokjin's tie matches a fitted burgundy Armani suit, which he wears with a cream undershirt. His hair is pushed off his forehead, bringing together the look.

He has a meeting at House of Cards with some investors who are looking to build near the Shin territory just outside Busan, in a smaller port city, and Seokjin wants to make sure those men are on Yoongi's side if push should come to shove.

But first, he plans to make a stop by the mansion to discuss something with Yoongi's little pet.

"She doesn't have to go for it," Seokjin responds, watching Hoseok's reflection with adoration swelling behind his lungs. Recently, Hoseok has been letting his hair grow out, and he looks devastating with dark brown waves falling past his eyes and longer bits tucked behind his ears.

Hoseok raises an eyebrow and cocks his head, done with his task and letting his arms hang over Seokjin's shoulders. Seokjin spins on the balls of his socked feet and wraps his arms around Hoseok's waist, pulling him close.

"I am merely planting a seed. I want the actual idea to be hers when the time comes."

Hoseok grins. "Elaborate."

"Well," Seokjin says, "for starters, the plan is terrible. Shipping her off to Busan for a week—or whatever the span of a vacation may be—is hardly enough time to turn her into an informant. She is smart enough to know that much. But I will pose it to her that way, insisting Yoongi cannot know, which will force her to stew on it. I know she wants revenge for the recent attack on Jimin at Paradise, and if Shin sends any more men to try to shake us up, it will only fuel her fire."

"And you want her to do this, because...?"

Seokjin chuckles. "Because, my love, Ryujin has always responded best to the friendships and authority of women. As sweet and empathetic as Hyunjin is, she has not gotten as close to him as we hoped. Yoongi's wolf cub, on the other hand, is the perfect bait. Not to mention, she comes from the honey bee ring, which Ryujin will sympathize with."

"And if Ryujin recognizes her from Serendipity?"

Seokjin pouts, sticking his lip out and down-turning his eyes. "Seokie, baby, you pretend I haven't thought of absolutely everything, and it wounds me."

With a roll of his pretty eyes and a soft giggle, Hoseok says, "Then humor me, love."

Seokjin rubs the tip of his nose against Hoseok's, then places a soft kiss, making Hoseok smile widely. "All we have to do is spread a rumor that Yoongi has harmed or upset her in some way. Nothing too damaging to his reputation, just a simple whisper. Ryujin may be hesitant, but, given her feelings about Yoongi, I think she will fall for it."

Hoseok leans in and mimics Seokjin's motion, rubbing their noses together, making Seokjin's heart pound just a little bit harder. "And if Ryujin doesn't believe the rumors? We don't think Yoongi was abusive to her at any point?"

"Not abusive..." Seokjin drifts off, squinting slightly while he chooses his words. "But when his parents died, he went off the deep end with drugs. All the voices have to whisper is the word heroin, and her ears will perk up."

Hoseok purses his lips, thinking over what Seokjin says but looking unconvinced.

"And anyway, she's competitive," Seokjin continues, gently kissing the tip of Hoseok's nose, "even if she doesn't buy the rumor," Seokjin kisses the apple of Hoseok's cheek, "Ryujin might still take her in, thinking she can convert her to actually become part of her family."

"Or, she might kill her," Hoseok responds with a pointed gaze.

Seokjin places a kiss on Hoseok's other cheek as he shrugs. "Sometimes, the cat must wet its feet, no matter its dislike of water, in order to eat fish."

A soft, pretty chuckle comes from Hoseok, who presses his lips against Seokjin's and then mutters, "Idioms to describe a human life, Jinnie bear? Tsk tsk."

Seokjin hums, says, "Sacrifices need to be made for the greater good," and licks over Hoseok's lips until his partner parts them, pulling him into an eager but soft kiss.

Time comes to a halt in Hoseok's arms, and Seokjin holds him tight, kissing slow and deep, savoring each taste, touch, and sound. There is nothing in the world quite like being in his lover's arms. Even the joy of watching the light die in his enemy's eyes pales in comparison. Seokjin thinks that he would do absolutely anything for Hoseok.

"Join me?" Seokjin asks. "She may be more comfortable with you around; you seem to have made a better impression on her, anyway."

"Fine," Hoseok mutters. "But I do not condone a plan that may get her killed, just so we're clear." Seokjin playfully rolls his eyes, and Hoseok smacks him on the shoulder as he continues, "I do like the idea of her running off to Busan for a while. For her sake and for Yoongi's."

"Oh?" Seokjin asks with a curious cock of the head, studying the microexpressions that tug gently at Hoseok's lips and eyes. To the untrained pupil, one would hardly notice these quirks, but Seokjin sees everything. Hoseok is nervous.

"Namjoon thinks he's becoming unhinged again," Hoseok finally says. "Slipping from reality. He's worried about another bender...so your plan to tell the voices about heroin use seems more grounded in reality than you realize."

"And you think taking her away from him won't just make him worse?" Seokjin teases, bending at the knees to smack a kiss on Hoseok's chin.

Hoseok nibbles on his bottom lip, considering his words. "I think she needs to spend more time out of the house, and out from under Yoongi's shadow. He is still very controlling, despite her willingness to stay, and whenever she's not directly in his line of sight, he gets paranoid and on edge."

Seokjin mulls it over. "I have noticed he is on edge more when we are away from home for extended periods."

"He needs to break out of that loop. We can't have a mad king on our hands. Especially one who could raze the city to the ground."

"So, we need to somehow get him to grant her more freedom, in a way that does not cause Yoongi to completely lose his shit," Seokjin clarifies.

Hoseok nods. "I'll talk to Namjoon about it."

"Good plan."

And with that, Seokjin presses one more kiss against Hoseok's lips, then releases him, linking their hands together as they make their way out of their bedroom, through the hallway, and down the stairs.

"And what is our excuse for visiting the mansion?" Hoseok asks as Seokjin sits on a charcoal grey chaise lounge beside the front door, reaching for a pair of black wingtip shoes. Seokjin slides his feet into both and begins tying the laces on one after the other.

"I am either going to catch Yoongi before he leaves for the day and discuss what he would like me to say to the investors this afternoon," Seokjin sighs, "or I will message to let him know that I was trying to catch him before he left, yadda, yadda, yadda."

As Seokjin stands and rubs his hands over his slacks to straighten them out, Hoseok pulls his black shirt sleeve back to reveal an elegant black timepiece. "He should be home for another fifteen minutes, assuming Namjoon is making him punctual and not late."

With a pleased hum, Seokjin offers an elbow and says, "The weather is nice. Shall we walk?"

The weather truly is beautiful, and the two of them take their time, walking hand in hand along the gravel path. Seokjin does not like to be nostalgic, but it is hard not to smile as he remembers the years spend in this secluded stretch of trees with Hoseok, before there were mansions on the property, and they would steal away to be alone.

As timing will have it, Yoongi and Namjoon are just about to leave when Seokjin and Hoseok arrive. Seokjin can hear the two of them laughing on the other side of the bulletproof door and opts to use the large brass knocker rather than scan his retinas, and all that.

The door swings open to Namjoon's tired but smiling face, and he walks outside, followed by Yoongi. They are in their standard black outfits, and Yoongi wears a cardigan rather than a blazer. Seokjin wonders what the two of them may be up to; Yoongi only mentioned meeting with some people concerning the mess Jeongguk recently made—which, Seokjin thinks, is a very flippant way to address a killing spree.

"Gentlemen," Yoongi calls with his arms held wide, "to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"Looking sharp, Jin," Namjoon mutters, making Seokjin grin.

"My reason to visit today is twofold," Seokjin begins. "I was hoping the chef was in so I could have a plate of his fabulous eggs benedict.

"Of course," Yoongi responds with a smile.

"And, I wanted to let you know that I will be meeting with the Choi brothers about their desire to open a casino near Busan."

Yoongi hums and then nods. "The chef is in, although, I am surprised you haven't perfected the recipe on your own."

With a shrug, Seokjin lies, "There is something about his hollandaise sauce that I cannot quite nail, but he refuses to give me the recipe."

The truth is that the chef adds horseradish rather than dijon mustard, and just a dash of dried ginger, giving it more of a bite. Seokjin figured it out almost immediately, but he likes that the chef can whip it up on a whim, saving him the trouble of purchasing the ingredients and doing it himself.

"And the men?" Yoongi asks as he reaches into his front pants pocket, pulls out a metal cigarette case, and opens it, revealing a row of perfectly rolled joints.

"Shall we offer to buy them, or shall we threaten them?" Seokjin simply asks.

With a smirk and a shrug, Yoongi pulls a joint to his lips, muttering, "Offer first, threaten second?"

Seokjin nods, watching as Namjoon pulls a lighter from his pocket and ignites Yoongi's joint, feeling glad that the two of them are finally able to be together once more. Yoongi needs a lapdog more than anything, and Namjoon is the perfect fit.

"Excellent," Seokjin says with a small bow, "then I will be on my way to the kitchen. Shall I order an extra serving for the wolf cub?"

Yoongi takes a long drag of the joint, holds it in, and then slowly lets it out, creating a plume of skunky smoke between them. "I doubt she'll be up for another hour or so."

Perfect, Seokjin thinks; he actually was hoping to be fed. "Sounds good."

The front door hadn't been closed completely, so Seokjin enters the mansion easily, stepping aside to remove his shoes while Hoseok does the same. They close the door tight and make their way toward the kitchen.

"You're so hot when you lie," Hoseok mutters, leaning in close enough for Seokjin to smell his cologne.

Seokjin twists and bends to place a kiss on Hoseok's lips, saying, "As are you, my love."

* * *

Despite having to wait more than thirty minutes on the balcony for Yoongi's darling to wake up, Seokjin considers their little meeting a success. He was certainly able to get into her head and could tell she was not ready to completely write off the idea of taking a trip by the time they made their exit, giving him just enough time to get into town on schedule for his meeting.

House of Cards is a raucous place even in the daytime when fewer men are around to throw away their money. The machines ding and play loud soundtracks, and televisions blare with various sport and fighting events.

Seokjin enters through the main doors after leaving his sedan with valet, and he walks past all the drunks and coke heads with a straight face, making his way to his decoy office on the main floor to meet with some men whom Namjoon claims are going to be good for business if they can manage to keep him on their good side, and bad for business if they do not.

Frankly, Seokjin could hardly give a fuck about what is good for business—Yoongi has inherited one of the oldest families in Korea, and by far the wealthiest. House of Cards brings in money simply by existing, and he hardly has to do any actual work. The boxing nights were Jeongguk's idea because he likes watching men fight to the death, and the wealth gained from those simply fuels the family's more expensive drug habits.

The Shins in the east hardly have a stronghold on their own docks, and the Songs in the south are happy to form an alliance when the price is right, showing loyalty to no one but their own pockets.

Rumor has it the Song family turned down the Choi men because they do not wish to be in the business of entertaining tourists, and a casino might bring in the wrong crowds. Let the tourists flock to Jeju, they say, and Seokjin agrees. The Shins, on the other hand, are desperate for anything they can get their fingers on, and more or less offered them a stretch of land.

All Seokjin has to do is offer the Choi brothers more money and an illusion of influence. Seems like the easiest thing in the world. The only variable he thinks that could possibly make those men want to side with the Shins would be an old family bond or rivalry, and as far as he can tell, these men have neither. So now, all he has to do is meet with them and find out what he can find out.

Seokjin has a way with men. A look, a gesture, and a veiled threat are all he needs to get them talking. He has no doubt he will be able to make these men sing.

* * *

Seokjin barely manages to light a cigar before his phone rings. The Choi brothers left mere minutes ago, and Seokjin had been hoping for a moment of alone time, but it is his informant who has been living with the Shin family, which makes this call potentially very important.

"Hyunjin, darling, what's the news?"

Seokjin sits back in his large, black leather chair, listening to the shocks whine as he leans, bending the springs a bit too far. He is in his real office on the second floor, and has a cigar between his teeth, slurring his words around it while he holds his cell phone to his ear. His informant, who works on Ryujin's drug-running team, sighs.

"She plans to intercept Yoongi's next shipment of pills. Apparently, one of his dock men was bought. A man by the name of Kang Daesung is going to steal the shit."

"Fuckers," Seokjin mutters, spit flying from his lips. He takes a puff from the cigar and holds the smoke in, then lets it out with a bitter huff. It feels lackluster now, and he gently stubs the cigar out on a golden ashtray, then sets it aside to let it extinguish itself the rest of the way.

Shin has really been coming for the drug operations, which has Seokjin feeling concerned for Jeongguk's safety. And his sanity.

"I am also one of the only people who knows this information, so now that I have passed it along, I have put a target on my back."

Seokjin hums and considers his options.

"You want to come home, or hop off the peninsula for a while?"

Another sigh comes through the line, and Seokjin gives him time to consider. Hyunjin has been with the Shin family long enough that leaving the country may be his best bet, but he does have a family of his own, which could complicate things.

When Hyunjin does not respond, Seokjin says, "We can get your little girl into a prestigious American school. Or Australian; there are plenty of Koreans in Australia. And we could assist with getting you and the wife nice jobs."

"Yeah," Hyunjin says. "Yeah, you're right. I'll think it over and talk to Jisu. Maybe Australia would be good."

"Let me know," Seokjin says as he thumbs through his files, opening a folder that reads "Hwang Hyunjin'' and pulling out documents. "Your passport is current, and I have a burner identity on the books with a line of credit. I can have you on a flight within an hour, any time, day or night, alright?"

"Thank you, Seokjin-ssi."

As they end the call, Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. He hates giving Yoongi bad news. This will also put another man in Jeongguk's crosshairs, and Seokjin really hopes that hunting him down will not also include killing fourteen of this man's closest friends.

Seokjin dials Yoongi and is surprised he picks up on the first ring. "Jin."

"Yoongichi, bad news."

Yoongi sighs and hums, and Seokjin continues. "Hwang called. Says Kang is planning to switch teams and sabotage the next shipment of pills."

"She bought him, eh?" Yoongi asks.

"Yup."

"Fuckers."

"Yup."

"What about Hwang?"

"I offered him an out, and he said he would think about it. Considering Australia."

"Sounds good. I may call everyone to meet later. Taehyung has an engagement until nine, so it will be a late one if I do."

"Alright. I'm headed home soon. Should have my hands full for a few hours, so after nine is perfect."

"Thanks, Jin."

"No problem."

At least Yoongi's tone was pretty flat; no reaction from Yoongi is the best reaction. Especially if Namjoon is worried about him falling off the rails.

This bump in the road aside, Seokjin considers the day a win, and he lifts his cigar, fits it between his lips, and lights it back up before locking up and heading out.

* * *

Seokjin My winning streak continues. This calls for celebration.

Hoseok In the pink dollhouse room?

Seokjin Of course, baby. Where else?

Hoseok ETA?

Seokjin 1 hour. Going to make a pitstop. I called Puppy, and he will be there in 20.

Hoseok I'll be home to get our guest ready.

Seokjin Thank you, baby.

Hoseok Anything for you, Jinnie bear.

To celebrate, Seokjin calls Hyungwon—his and Hoseok's favorite whore—to join them in one of the dollhouse rooms. Hoseok is home to get him ready while Seokjin stops at one of the boutiques to buy him a white leather muzzle that is shaped to fit a dog, with pointed ears on top and a pretty pink bow in the center.

The pièces de résistance, however, is a bar inside the muzzle for Hyungwon to bite down on, ideally making a mess of himself with drool.

One of Hyungwon's favorite toys is an anal plug with a long white tail, and Seokjin wants to see him with a pretty new accessory to match it. And, although Seokjin has plenty of items like this in his puppy playhouse room, this muzzle is a gift specifically for his most special whore. He is feeling rather generous tonight.

The drive home is short and sweet, and when Seokjin arrives, he is pleased to see a motorcycle parked in the driveway and light shining through the sheer white curtains of the first room on the second floor, confirming that Hyungwon has, in fact, already arrived, and that Hoseok must be getting him ready.

Seokjin always finds it incredible how the man can strip down from all his worn, thick leather and stand in the prettiest pink lingerie, and he laments briefly that he was not home to witness the transformation.

When Jimin first hired Hyungwon at Paradise, Seokjin thought that, perhaps, the heavens had opened up and shined just for him. He has a cold indifference to him that makes Seokjin want to break him apart and make him sob. And he does.

Hyungwon is the only man who allows Seokjin to do every little sadistic thing he desires, then leaves at the end of the session with a soft kiss and a promise to return. Seokjin treasures him dearly.

Many whores blacklist him for less.

Of course, now that Jimin has returned to their bed, Hyungwon may have to take second place, but that is a discussion for another time. Seokjin is eager to make Jimin sob again and again, but he worries about coming on too strongly and scaring him off. Jimin has always been quite sensitive, which Seokjin will never understand, but he does his best to respect it.

Seokjin takes his time exiting the car, grabbing the black paper shopping bag with an expensive monogram on all sides. He knows the men have heard his car pull up, and he wants to draw out the anticipation and make them wait.

Hoseok, in particular, hates to wait. His temper is as explosive as the incendiary devices he so enjoys crafting, and Seokjin takes pleasure in pushing his buttons.

As he punches the hex code of his partner's favorite shade of sunshine yellow into the door and waits for the device to scan his retina, Seokjin takes a deep breath and allows a hint of a smile to creep over his face.

Things within the family have been a bit of a mess lately, but everything seems to be going fairly well, aside from their drug runner turning heel. Men on the lower ranks tend to chase money, after all; they are no stranger to these types of incidents.

If he can ensure the Choi brothers remain loyal and convince Yoongi's darling to leave town for a while, everything might even be perfect for some time. Seokjin hesitates to dwell on the thought.

Once inside, Seokjin closes the front door as quietly as he can and has a seat on his chaise lounge to remove his wingtips one at a time, placing them carefully beside the rows of footwear. Then, he takes the handles of the bag gently in his fingers and creeps up to the second floor, stalking like a tiger in the hope of catching the men off guard.

He can hear their voices coming from the room, though what they are saying is difficult to make out. Hoseok has an excited lilt to his voice, and Hyungwon is speaking too softly to be detected clearly. Hyungwon is often quite soft-spoken—another thing Seokjin enjoys about him.

As Seokjin gets to the top of the stairs, he forgets that the landing step is particularly creaky, putting down his weight as the wood whines beneath his toes. He lets out the breath that he had been holding, dropping his head in a defeated sigh as a tuft of brown hair shoots out from the first door on the right, and Seokjin spots his partner.

"Gotta get that step fixed," Seokjin complains as he straightens his posture and smooths down his burgundy jacket.

Hoseok grins from ear to ear, and he stands in the doorway to the pink dollhouse room with his hair disheveled and the top four buttons of his dress shirt undone. The sight of exposed sun-kissed skin has Seokjin's heart thudding behind his ribs, and he lifts a brow, playfully assessing the sight.

"Did my puppies begin without me?" he teases as he approaches with his shoulders hunched forward to give Hoseok the impression that he is stalking his prey.

Hoseok chuckles, and Seokjin can tell he is feeling shy from the accusation as he bites his lip and shakes his head. "Hyungwon messed up my hair because he wanted you to think we had started without you. But we are being good puppies, I promise."

With a hum, Seokjin stalks further, watching Hoseok become increasingly antsy the closer he gets. "And is he all ready for me?"

"He is," Hoseok beams, taking a step back to allow Seokjin to enter the room.

Seokjin, however, pounces, pressing Hoseok into the far side of the door frame and caging him in with his arms, giving him nowhere to go. With a hand on the dollhouse room wall and the hand holding onto the shopping bag on the hallway wall, Seokjin towers over his partner and gazes down at him hungrily.

"But are you ready for me?"

A silly question, since a stipulation to being Seokjin's lover is to be ready at all times. Hoseok cleans himself every morning, and he inserts a plug every time Seokjin is expected to be home so that there is very little need for prep and Seokjin can take what he wants.

Of course, Seokjin is no monster; if they are unable to engage in play, Hoseok simply removes the plug—or gets himself off and then removes it—ensuring that it does not stay nestled up inside him long enough to cause any kind of complications or health risks.

But Seokjin tries to be very clear about his expectations, and they communicate their schedules in order to make sure Hoseok can be ready for him at the drop of a hat. Seokjin's appetite is insatiable, and it is not unusual for them to fuck five or six nights a week. One of the reasons they invite so many whores to play dress up and join them is to give Hoseok a little extra help. That, and whores tend to come pre-used.

A plus side of fucking Jimin back in the day was when he would come home from the club, already stretched from his clients. Even when he would whine about being sore and sensitive, he would be such a good, pliant boy for Seokjin. Not a day goes by that Seokjin doesn't dream about the sweet sounds Jimin would make, becoming an overstimulated, sobbing mess long before either of them would reach their first orgasm.

Hoseok's smile falters ever so slightly, and Seokjin already knows what he is going to say. He must have assumed that, because they have a guest for the night, Hoseok would not be expected to be stretched. He should know by now that when Seokjin calls with good news, that a victory fuck is in order, whether or not they are tending to a guest for the evening.

And this, Seokjin thinks, is the danger of falling in love. Years ago, Seokjin would plot ways to punish his puppy for being so short-sighted and disobedient. But now? Staring into his deep brown eyes, downturned beneath a knit brow, all Seokjin wants to do is kiss him and tell him everything will be alright. His heart has become soft.

Before Hoseok can excuse his bad behavior, Seokjin plants a soft smooch on the tip of his nose and grins. "I'm kidding," he assures softly.

"You're not," Hoseok groans as relief paints his face.

"I'm not," Seokjin admits, taking a step back and allowing Hoseok to breathe. "But I am in too good of a mood to make you cry."

"Lucky me," Hoseok teases with a wink.

Seokjin leans in and places a kiss on Hoseok's forehead, then enters the room. The walls are all painted cotton candy pink, and there is a large bed on the left with plush pink bedding and a white wrought iron sleigh frame with beautiful spiral designs at the head and foot—perfect for attaching restraints.

Hoseok's favorite addition to the room is a pale pink sex swing that hangs from the center of the space, with vines wrapped around the long arms that stretch to the ceiling. Seokjin is partial to the vanity with a large mirror that is very sturdy and perfect for humiliation play.

The wooden furniture and wainscoting are all painted pink with gold accents, the floor is covered in pink carpeting and large, white cloud-shaped rugs, and every light fixture is a giant, white orb. In the corner of the room furthest from the bed is a chair in the shape of a giant pink high-heel, and when Seokjin enters, that is where he finds their guest.

Hyungwon is breathtaking in sheer pink babydoll lingerie with little ruffled sleeves that hang from his shoulders, and a skirt that falls just above his thighs. He reclines on the shoe chair with one knee bent, bare foot adorned with pretty silver chains and rings, perched delicately atop the chair, and the other leg down, spread slightly to accommodate for the chair's width. His hair is long enough to be styled behind his ears—straight and black as a raven's feather—and he wears a thick silver choker of shimmering zirconias and a glittery lip balm.

"Master Seokjin," Hyungwon states as he moves from his reclined position—which Seokjin assumes he only sat in to be a tease, in the first place—and slowly lifts his leg, leaning forward and getting onto his hands and knees. "You look ravishing tonight, sir."

Seokjin turns to Hoseok with a puzzled expression, then back to Hyungwon, "Baby, did you give our pet permission to speak?"

"I did not, sir," Hoseok responds simply, standing near the wall with his arms flat at his sides. "But you do look ravishing tonight, sir."

How in the world Seokjin wound up with two disobedient puppies, he will never know, but he cannot bring himself to be upset when they are so devastatingly pretty and so good to him. Seokjin reaches to tap the underside of Hoseok's chin with the pad of his finger—a playful gesture that also tells him to keep that gorgeous fucking mouth of his closed unless he is asked to open it.

Hoseok smiles, winks, and does not say another word.

"I got you something," Seokjin beams as he turns back to Hyungwon, closing the gap between them.

He reaches into the bag, pulls out the leather dog muzzle, and holds it up. Hyungwon's eyes widen, and a soft smile plays on his lips. If the man truly is excited, Seokjin has no idea; all he cares about is that he acts the part, as he is paid to do. And Hyungwon, as always, is a brilliant performer.

* * *

The shower down the hall in the guest bathroom runs as Seokjin pushes a hand through his hair, walking from the dollhouse room to his bedroom. His cream shirt is unbuttoned and hung open, burgundy pants are undone, and he is covered in a sheen of sweat.

Hyungwon practically needed to be carried away when Seokjin was finished with him, and Hoseok is currently assisting with washing him and tending to his various marks with creams. Seokjin was not too hard on him, but his nails did break skin a couple of times, and he spanked him until both cheeks were tomato red.

Although it is getting late, Yoongi has called to request everyone to congregate at the mansion at the top of the hour. It gives Seokjin thirty-five minutes to change into a black dress shirt and slacks and see that Hyungwon is able to get home on his own or has a suitable bed to sleep in for the night. Ordinarily, Seokjin is not as kind to his whores, but after what he did to the guy's ass, he takes pity on him for driving out on a motorcycle.

The sound of the shower shutting off is followed by muffled voices, and Seokjin shrugs out of his shirt, dropping it into a hamper near the closet door, and grabs a black shirt from a hanger. He attempts to listen for the men—to get a sense of whether or not Hyungwon will need to stay—but all he can make out is Hoseok's bright, happy laughter.

Seokjin loves it when Hoseok laughs loud and unabashedly. It rings like music to his ears.

"Baby?" Hoseok calls down the hallway.

Seokjin takes a step out of the closet as he buttons his shirt and shouts, "Bedroom," then returns to the racks of clothing and wiggles out of his slacks, picking them up and placing them into the hamper, and then reaching for a black pair to slide into.

"Ah," Hoseok says as he rounds the corner and finds Seokjin dressed in all black. "Yoongi called."

"He did," Seokjin responds.

"For all of us?"

"For all of us."

"Hyungwon should be good to drive, but I'll go check on him."

Seokjin flashes Hoseok a smile. "Thank you, love."

Once he is ready, Seokjin switches off the light and exits his and Hoseok's massive closet, then he leaves the bedroom and makes his way down the hall, to the pink dollhouse room. The dark wood wainscoting and blood-red walls adorned with pretty brass sconces is such an abrupt change of scenery compared to the pink playroom, and from time to time, it makes Seokjin chuckle softly when he leaves one atmosphere for the other.

Hyungwon sits on the edge of the bed dressed in blue jeans, a blue and white flannel shirt, and a black leather jacket, with his hands in his lap. Hoseok stands before him, dabbing a salve to his lip, which Seokjin split from slapping a little too hard once the muzzle came off. To Seokjin's credit, Hyungwon was the one who begged him to hit him harder.

As Seokjin enters, both men turn to him with smiles, and Seokjin leans against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

"How is our puppy feeling?"

"Amazing," Hyungwon responds, always saying so no matter which state he seems to be in.

"Good. And I take it your ass isn't too sore for the bike?"

Hoseok shoots Seokjin an incredulous glare, which he pointedly ignores.

Hyungwon chuckles quietly. "No, sir. Not too sore."

"Good. I will be downstairs, then." He turns his gaze to Hoseok. "Join me soon?"

Hoseok nods and screws the cap on his balm, then leans to place a soft kiss on Hyungwon's forehead as Seokjin takes his leave and goes downstairs, to the kitchen, to have a few shots of whiskey before heading out to Yoongi's place.

It does not take long for the others to join him, and they bid Hyungwon farewell with kisses to his cheeks and forehead, then link hands and take the long way to Yoongi's property, up toward Taehyung's place and cutting through the gardens. It is eerie out here at night with low lighting and tall, dark shadows. They walk all the way around the mansion, to the front door, and find Taehyung and Jeongguk on the stoop, smoking a cigarette.

"Fellas," Seokjin calls, and everyone lifts their hand hello.

"Is it just us?" Hoseok asks, and Taehyung shakes his head, saying, "Jimin is inside."

Seokjin takes a puff from Taehyung's cigarette, then goes inside, happy to find Jimin and Namjoon seated on the couch as he takes his place on the far end. Seokjin assumes Yoongi would be upstairs and is surprised to see him enter through the front door with Taehyung and Jeongguk. Once they are all seated, Yoongi begins.

"We have two orders of business, which are somewhat related. The first is that Jeonggukie has been working with a team to formalize a new type of ecstasy that contains amphetamines, to give the user more of an upper-type high. It will be smoother than the shit the Americans sell, which contain meth, and the users will crave the experience, ideally getting them hooked on it."

This news comes as somewhat of a surprise to Seokjin, but he does not show it, keeping his expression stoic. He is curious when Yoongi decided to pivot into selling drugs for the purpose of creating addicts, and thinks perhaps the man really is losing his mind. He sounds like his late father, which is no compliment.

Yoongi continues. "So far, the trials have been pretty positive, and we should have those on the streets within the next month, or so. Let Jeongguk know if you would like samples."

Yoongi sits up and sighs, "And for our second order of business, it seems our main dock man Kang has been bought, and he plans to fuck with our next shipment of pills. I will be orchestrating a hit some time this weekend."

"I can go," Jeongguk offers, and Seokjin is pleased when Yoongi holds his hand up, turning him down.

"I need you to stay here this weekend. I want us to start going to the range again, and there are some other things I want you around for. I'll put Changkyun on the job."

Jeongguk opens his mouth to complain, and Yoongi cuts him off. "Ggukie, we have men hired to carry out hits. Let me utilize them."

Silence falls, then Namjoon clears his throat. "Is there anything anyone else would like to share?"

Seokjin cannot believe everyone was called over for this, and he crosses his arms over his chest and glances around. When nobody says anything, he shrugs and says, "Guess that's it."

"Alright," Yoongi says as he slaps his palms over his knees and stands with a sigh. "I thought this would be more of a conversation, but it seems pretty cut and dry. Thanks for coming by."

Seokjin studies Yoongi as he stands, curious about what Namjoon sees that makes him so paranoid. There are bags under his eyes, and he seems quite tired, but he does not seem jittery or pale, or any of the other symptoms Seokjin tries to remember from his last bender.

It could be his more recent shift in seeming colder than usual. Prior to the pet moving in upstairs, Yoongi even went so far as to have a nasty little violent streak. Still, violence is not an indicator of drug abuse.

Yoongi has always been good at hiding shit until it is really bad, however, and he has always been quite unreadable, wearing parts of himself on his sleeve while keeping the rest locked away. He hopes that Namjoon's suspicions are false, but nobody would know better than him.

With that, everyone stands to leave, including Yoongi. In fact, the only person who seems to hang back is Namjoon. They say good night, everyone begins to head back to their homes, and Namjoon locks up the mansion as Yoongi slides his hands into his pockets and sets off in the direction of Namjoon's home.

Something is definitely amiss, but Seokjin does not feel like asking. The warmth of Hoseok's hand pulls him from his thoughts as he is tugged in the direction of home.

When they return from the meeting that could have been a conversation via group text, Seokjin sits with a huff on his chaise lounge. He bends his leg to lift it in order to untie his shoe, but Hoseok drops to his knees and places a hand on Seokjin's foot, guiding it to the floor.

"You seem off, baby," Hoseok mutters sweetly. "Let me take care of you."

With an affectionate smile, Seokjin crosses his arms over his chest and lets his posture droop in a sigh. "Always taking care of others."

Hoseok's eyes shine as he mutters, "I live to serve."

Seokjin chuckles and sits up straight as Hoseok removes one shoe, then the other, and places them neatly aside. "We both know that is untrue."

"Yes," Hoseok responds, also laughing.

Seokjin leans forward, takes Hoseok's chin in his hand, and pulls him close. Hoseok strains to get near enough, sitting high on his knees, but Seokjin stays just out of reach as he says, "You can still take care of me, though."

He revels in the way Hoseok's tone drops as he asks, "And how would you like me to do that, baby?"

Seokjin begins to think of all the ways he would like to make Hoseok whine, but Hoseok continues, "It's been a while since you've submitted to me and completely let go of control."

It has been a while. Probably months. Seokjin mulls it over with a squint of his eyes. There is nothing in this world that he likes more than pulling sweet sounds from Hoseok's lips, but he knows that Hoseok also enjoys being in control. However, relinquishing power does not come easily to a man like Seokjin.

"You are correct," Seokjin finally responds. "It has been a while."

Hoseok's eyes glimmer with mirth, and even if Seokjin had not been considering it before, he would certainly cave now. With a nibble of his bottom lip, Seokjin leans close enough to kiss Hoseok.

"I'll let you fuck me tonight. Give me twenty minutes to get ready?"

With a pout, Hoseok shakes his head. "I want to get you ready."

"Oh?"

"Please."

"Enema play, Seok? Really?"

Hoseok shrugs. "I want to watch you tremble and whimper as the water falls out."

Seokjin, admittedly, gets it. "Alright, let's go."

Hoseok is gentle as he takes Seokjin's hand and leads him up the stairs and down the hall to their master suite. He is gentle as he undresses him and leads him to their shower. Gentle when he bends Seokjin over—hands splayed on the white tile bench that runs along one wall—and inserts the nozzle of the enema. Seokjin gasps from the sensation; he hasn't done this in quite a while.

When Hoseok takes Seokjin by the hair and lifts his head, pulling him into a standing position, he is less gentle. Lifting the bag, which is full of tepid water, so that it can enter his body makes Seokjin gasp, sending a shudder through him.

Hoseok holds his chin, firm and not very gently as he says, "Eyes on me," and slowly pulls the nozzle out, releasing the water to the floor of the shower.

Seokjin keeps his eyes on Hoseok as the water rushes from him, a sensation that he thinks should not be in the least bit erotic. Hoseok knows that this is mildly humiliating, which, Seokjin thinks, is the reason he is insisting on it.

Hoseok inserts the nozzle two more times, sending water rushing from Seokjin's rectum, holding him in place while they stare into one another's eyes. Warmth covers Seokjin's face in a mix of embarrassment and arousal, and when Hoseok bends him back over right there in the shower to eat him out, Seokjin practically blacks out.

"Fuck, feels so good," he whimpers as Hoseok teases his hole with his tongue, circling the rim and prodding inside.

"You like it, baby?" Hoseok groans, biting Seokjin's buttcheek and circling a finger over him, gently pushing inside and pulling out, making Seokjin sigh and tremble from pleasure-pain.

"You know I do," Seokjin whines.

Hoseok groans. "Too bad I won't let you cum until you're begging and sobbing."

Evil. Pure fucking evil. Hoseok loves making someone like Seokjin beg. He whimpers before he can stop himself, and Hoseok chuckles and crashes a hand over his ass with a loud, wet smack.

"Come on, big boy," Hoseok sing-songs "Let's tie you to the bed and make you scream."

Seokjin already fears for his life, knowing that Hoseok will edge him for hours. But the earth-shattering orgasm that tears his world asunder, followed by Hoseok's sweet, pretty smile, makes everything worth it. How could he possibly resist?

THANK YOU FOR READINGGG!!!

i didn't give Hyungwon a relationship tag since he's not a main character in the story, nor does he appear again. for those of you who aren't monbebe, this is the man i was talking about:

i also remember being too exhausted to write a smut scene when i was putting this POV together, which is why we don't get to experiencing these three together hahaha. i think i wrote Hoseok and Seokjin back to back.

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE THE LIFEBLOOD OF THIS SITE, BUT LIKES ARE ALSO SUPER APPRECIATED!!! THANK YOU FOR READING, I LOVE YOU!!!

tag lists will be on separate reblogs! they’ve gotten too big to contain as one! if you would like to be tagged in this fic, please let me know!!! 💜💜💜

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#seokjin mafia #hoseok mafia #yoongi mafia #bts mafia #seokjin x hoseok #seokjin smut #hoseok smut #bts smut #bts angst #bts poly #fic: collateral

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