#like literally just spraying the top of his head and his ears so that he doesn’t get eaten up

[dirt-str1der]

Boys were invented for me to chase around the nightmare woods with a big knife and blunderbuss

[suosgirl]

Helloooo! I was wondering if you are taking requests for Wind Breaker?

If yes, can I ask for a story or headcanons about Suo meeting and getting curious (and eventually falling for) a f.reader who is like a princess for Shishitoren?

In my head it would be funny to see Suo challenging and interacting with Choji and Togame (who are already threatening Suo to stay away from the reader). I mean, he can be kind of mean when he wants, and still wear a smile.😆

Thanks for hearing me out!

And let me say, I realllyyyy love the way you write!🩷

Shishitoren's Princess (& Her Guard Dog) | Hayato Suo x Reader

Word Count: 7471

୨ৎ Read me before interacting!

୨ৎ Pairing: Hayato Suo x Reader feat. Shishitoren (literally most of them), Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama, Mitsuki Kiryu, Haruka Sakura, Akihiko Nire

୨ৎ Warnings: mdni, f!reader, manga spoilers, ooc (definitely ooc sorry ah), angst, harassment, swearing, kissing, miscommunication – if I’ve missed one, I apologize + please let me know!

୨ৎ Note: oh my goodness – I'm actually so sorry for how this took me (and how long this is ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა). I loved loved loved this idea so much, and thank you for the sweetest words! I really hope this is somewhere in the ballpark of what you were requesting! Thank you again for the amazing idea! I love you!

You hadn’t meant to cross over to their territory – truly. It’s just that Togame had mentioned that his favorite Ramune flavor had been out since last night, and Tomiyama had been going on and on about this new snack that just wasn’t available at the usual corner store that you guys frequented, so you found yourself with a mission on your mind and your wallet in your hand.

Pretty, perfect, caring adorable you. With a smile that could heal any scratch and a heart that seemed to never run empty. You were the pride and joy of Shishitoren – their mascot in every sense. 

You knew everyone by name. If someone asked, you could name at least 5 things about each person from the top of your head. You could name their allergies, their likes and dislikes, and even their interests – all because you listened to them.

You were attentive and warm – quick to lend an ear if someone was having a bad day or offer advice if they asked.

And it was scary how well you could tell if they were in the dumps – it becomes a running joke that you have some kind of emotional superpower when it comes to them. It takes just one look, one look before you’re bringing them to a secluded corner and asking them if they’ve got something weighing on their minds.

You knew their personalities, knew their stories, knew their hearts. 

The only time anyone avoided you was when they knew they did something wrong – because they knew you’d be pulling them by the ear and scolding them. And, as much as some of them wanted to get mad, they just couldn’t bring themselves to – because having someone care for them so fiercely was a feeling that not many of them had ever experienced, and from the bottom of your heart you truly cared.

After every fight, they knew you’d be the one to patch them up. Bofurin had the townspeople, sure, but Shishitoren had you. You, who would set up tables in the Ori with every inch of space taken up by ointments, antiseptic spray, gauze – the works. Whatever injury they had, as long as not severe, was taken care of by you. 

If it was serious and required hospital attention, you were the one bringing them there – eyes sharp and tongue at the ready to yell at anyone who dared to treat them differently or deny services.

And these boys … they had the utmost respect for you. You, who had nothing but love to give, never expected a single thing back. You cared for them, genuinely, and saw them as your own brothers to fuss over and worry about and love. 

You were family – and honestly, Togame and Tomiyama were just glad to have met you after their fight with Bofurin. 

You’d moved to this side of town just a little after the whole thing, and when you’d gotten lost in the dark alleys with your phone on 1% and tears in your eyes, it was Tomiyama who walked you home. He’d talked your ear off the whole way, of course, but he was surprised at how you were able to keep up with him. You were actively responding to him, asking questions, keeping the conversation going – and Tomiyama liked that. 

And when you’re delivered safely to your front door, you ask if you can exchange contact info. His eyes light up, and he’s quickly saying yes and that he’d love to hang out with you again.

He doesn’t expect you to reach out to him the next day though, asking if you can give him a thank-you present for going out of his way the day before. 

And when you show up to the Ori, with a bag of assorted goodies in your hands, you’re met with more men than you could count, all with eyes staring wide at you.

They expect you to run away, honestly, because they know what they look like. They know that you’re probably a sweet girl, sure, but they were a gang – plain and simple. A gang working on reform, sure, but a gang nonetheless. So, if you were to drop your little goodie bag in fear and run for your life, well, it would probably be the most appropriate response.

Instead, what you do is gasp, point an accusatory finger at Tomiyama, and exclaim, “WHY didn’t you tell me that there would be more people here?”

You quickly hand him the bag, muttering out an “I’ll be back”, and in less than 30 minutes you’ve got your hands full with 5 more bags, packed to the brim with even more snacks.

With Togame, it takes just a little bit longer for him to warm up to you. Not that he doesn’t already like you – it’s just that he’s, well, a bit more reserved and a bit more quiet and observing (a lot more quiet if we’re comparing him to Tomiyama). 

It’s when, during a fleeting conversation, he mentions that he plays Go with the elderly men at the public bath – and he watches you perk up at his words. Immediately, you’re asking if it would be alright to play with him sometime, and while he’s hesitant, he ultimately says yes at the sight of your bright eyes and wide smile.

He admits that he thinks you’re just bluffing, until you actually plan a day to play, and now you’ve got him thinking that maybe you’re good? Maybe, you’re a secret Go prodigy or something? Maybe you’ve got a secret or two up your sleeve and –

He wipes the floor with you. Absolutely demolishes you. But you’re happy about it, laughing at the result, and he’s confused because you didn’t win? Did you … did you know how board games work?

You’re quick to tell him that you enjoyed it because you got to spend time with him, got to know who he is as a person because of how he played. 

You leave him standing on the street, a bottle of Ramune long forgotten in his hand (his prize for winning) and his mouth open in surprise.

And when you notice he’s not next to you anymore, you turn around with a smile on your face as you ask, “Don’t you feel that you know me a little bit better too?”

Yeah, they were glad that you got to see them as they were now, with hopes and dreams and emotions. They don’t dwell on the idea of you meeting them before then – they don’t want to. Because if they thought about it too long, they’d have their answer.

You deserved to be happy and healthy and protected. You, who filled a hole in Shishitoren that they didn’t even know existed. 

And now you were an irreplaceable part of their lives, so precious and so important that they began to understand Bofurin. They had you – someone that they would do anything in their power to protect – to keep safe from harm.

You were Shishitoren’s Princess.

After that, Tomiyama and Togame were stuck to you like glue. Always thinking about you, always concerned, always wondering where you were. 

You’re running late and they haven’t got a text letting them know why? They’re out on the streets, danger flashing in their eyes and prepared for the worst. However, when they see that you’ve been distracted by a stray cat on the road, all they do is let out a laugh and join your side. 

They hear you sniffling and see that your eyes are shining with tears? They’re immediately on you, asking who did this to you, with a promise to make them pay for it tenfold. “You can’t really beat up allergies,” you laugh, before sneezing into a tissue. Immediately, the Shishitoren boys are rounded up, their eyes focused and determined – to get you allergy medicine.

You were everything good in the world, bottled up into someone who could make even the rainiest days seem a bit more brighter and the hardest challenges a bit more bearable – and they didn’t want anyone infringing on their happiness.

So when Hayato Suo, from Bofurin, comes across you one fateful day – they’re absolutely livid. 

You hadn’t meant to cross over to their territory – truly. It’s just that Togame had mentioned that his favorite Ramune flavor had been out since last night, and Tomiyama had been going on and on about this new snack that just wasn’t available at the usual corner store that you guys frequented, so you found yourself with a mission on your mind and your wallet in your hand.

And honestly, you loved them, you did, but the way that they treated you like a delicate little flower sometimes felt a bit too stuffy.

What? Did they think you just patched people up for fun? That you knew how to medically treat someone just short of a nurse because it was your hobby?

You’re too absorbed in your thoughts to realize where the directions on your phone are taking you until you’ve already passed the train crossing border that connects Bofurin’s and Shishitoren’s territory. You’re spit out onto a street that you’ve never seen before, but you shrug it off.

When you find the corner store, you make quick work of your shopping list, even grabbing some items for yourself, before you’re out the door.

It’s when you’ve barely taken a few steps down the street that you feel it – the staring on the back of your head.

While you were in the store, you’d felt their eyes on you, but you’d ignored it, hoping that it was just a fleeting moment of curiosity. Now, you see that it was the eyes of a predator stalking their prey.

You pause, before quickly taking out your phone and sending a quick text to Togame and Tomiyama – they just need one small clue and they can fill in the rest – so you send your location. 

And when you finally turn to face your stalker, you snap a photo of their face. For insurance, you assure yourself. Just in case. 

He’s taller than you, with a smirk on his face and his hands in his pockets. You feel uneasy at his presence, and you look up and down the street to see that no one’s around.

Damnit damnit damnit. 

“You’re really pretty, totally my type. Could I get your contact information?” he’s asking, but the tone that he’s saying it in doesn’t leave any room for objection.

“No,” you reply, simple and straight to the point. Then, you stay standing there, and you wait. 

“Never turn your back on an enemy.”

Togame had said this briefly, once, while the both of you were watching everyone spar.

When the man takes a step forward, you take one back, maintaining the distance between you and him.

“Oh come on – it’s just your number. Don’t make this such a big deal.”

He’s holding himself back and you can see it. You can see the way his hands are twitching by his sides now and the way his breathing is starting to speed up.

“Always keep an eye on your opponent~! You wouldn’t wanna miss anything!”

Tomiyama’s words run through your mind next, and you will yourself to maintain your facade.

You’re starting to get just the slightest bit worried now, though. It really shouldn’t be too much longer, you think. Any minute now. 

But a minute passes by, Togame and Choji aren’t here, and the guy’s got his hand wrapped around your wrist so tightly that it’s starting to throb.

“Please – leave me alone!” you yell out, but it’s going through one ear and out the other. He’s smiling down, dark and sinister, and it’s then that you remember something so crucial that you can’t believe you forgot it.

“Kick them, um, down there. It’ll hurt, a lot. But that’s a last resort type of move, alright princess?”

Those self-defense lessons are paying off, Togame. 

You make a mental note to thank him when he gets here.

You kick the man, hard, and when he releases your arm you step back as fast as you can, but – 

The plastic bag you had once held in your hand, now filled with the sloshing liquid and the broken glass of Togame’s Ramune bottle, causes you to slip.

Your hands shoot out and you close your eyes in anticipation of the fall that never comes because strong, warm arms are holding you up.

You let out a sigh of relief – finally. You’re brought to stand, but before those hands can leave your body, you’re swiftly grabbing them to wrap around your waist and leaning your head on their chest.

“Geez, took you guys long enough –”

The sight of a black jacket cuts you off. Black, with green embroidery.

You quickly push yourself off, eyes wide and cheeks red because you had just initiated a very intimate hug with someone who was a complete stranger.

“I-I’m so sorry! Oh my gosh – I thought you were someone else!” you blurt out, hands covering your mouth – and he looks as caught off guard as you are.

His eye is wide, mouth open just the tiniest bit, and – he’s cute.

“Wow, I don’t get thanked like that too often,” he smiles, and you’re mortified at his playful reaction.

“I –,” You open your mouth to apologize again, but he’s got a hand on your shoulder, quickly cutting you off.

You look up at him, and the smile’s still there, but it’s different now – it’s frightening.

“Would you mind stepping to the side for me? It seems some people just don’t know when to quit.”

You hear shuffling behind you, and you’re quickly brought back to the situation at hand. Nodding, you get out of his way, and it’s as soon as you step past him that you hear a sickening thud and a groan of pain.

When you turn, you’re relieved to see that the man who’d been harassing you is on the ground, and if you were to guess, probably out cold.

“Wow… You made quick work of him,” you don’t try to hide the awe in your voice and Suo finds it both endearing and concerning that you’re praising him.

Concerning mainly because, well, you don’t seem to be the type to leisurely enjoy street fights. 

And now you’re right in front of him, inspecting his face and body to make sure there aren’t any cuts that need to be treated or any injuries that need tending.

It’s second nature at this point — ingrained in your body and soul.

Cute, he thinks, very cute that she thinks he touched me.

“Do you see anything wrong, love?” he jests, enjoying the way you’re so diligently scanning him from head to toe.

“No, I don’t think—”

You are, once again, mortified by his teasing. No one at Shishitoren spoke to you like this, and sure they called you Princess, but to you, it held the same value as sister or friend.

“S-sorry, force of habit… ah, thank you for saving me! I sent my friends a message but —”

You’re cut off by the sounds of two distinct voices yelling "Princess", and Suo’s quick to prepare himself for another fight.

However, when he sees Togame and Tomiyama run around the corner with panic in their eyes and desperation in their voices, he’s just confused.

And when they spot the two of you, with an unconscious body on the ground, it gets even more confusing. Because why are they walking over here and why do they have scowls on their face and —

“Princess, what were you thinking?”

Tomiyama and Togame are all over you, Togame’s hand gently grasping your chin to move your face from side to side, and Tomiyama’s got his hand on your wrist, softly thumbing at the bruised skin.

“I’m okay, I’m okay.”

Suo’s observing all of this, and he’s trying to rack his brain for any information about you. God, he really wished Nirei was here right now.

He’s never heard that name before or seen your face, so this must be a recent development. But with the way they’re fretting over you, you’d think that you’d all been childhood friends or something because the way that they’re worrying over you is definitely not normal.

You try to push their hands away from you, embarrassed that you have an audience, but they don’t let up so all you’re able to do is grumble and huff as they inspect you from head to toe.

“... He hurt you,” Tomiyama whispers, and you grab his wrist before he starts stalking toward the body on the floor.

“It’s okay um – oh, I don’t know your name, but he helped me out! Everything’s fine – really! Please, let’s calm down,” you plead, and all it takes is one look at your anxious face for the both of them to ease up.

Now, Suo really wants to understand.

“Suo … thanks for protecting her. This idiot didn’t tell us she was crossing over into your territory. It’s our fault, sorry,” Togame explains, one hand scratching the back of his neck and the other draped over your shoulders.

Suo takes a moment to respond. Who would he be, after all, if not an instigator?

Because — who were you? You – who could turn the Shishitoren leader and his second in command into mere puppies with your sweet voice. You — who had them running like their lives depended on it. 

“Ah, I’d save a sweet girl like her any day,” Suo says, testing the waters, and he gets the exact reaction he was hoping for.

Togame and Tomiyama stiffen up beside you, as you gasp in surprise at his words. 

And suddenly, there’s a shift in the air – and it’s deadly.

You sense it, of course, because who wouldn’t be able to feel the heightened electricity and the low hum of buzzing coming from Togame’s and Tomiyama’s chests?

And you, ever the de-escalating expert, quickly blurt out, “Ah, wait! I need to go back to the store! Give me like 5 minutes!”

Before they can get a “no” out, you’re already out of their grasp and beelining it for the convenience store.

It’s silent for a moment, with just Suo, Tomiyama, and Togame looking at one another.

Finally, Togame breaks the silence.

“Look, Sakura’s a friend –”

“And Ume-chan too!” Tomiyama chimes in.

 “ – and I hope we’re not stepping on your toes here but don’t get any ideas.”

Suo knows he should stop. He should probably apologize, and let them know it’s not what they think. That they’ve got it all wrong. But … he really can’t help it – not with the way that they’re hissing at him like cats. It’s adorable – and you’re adorable.

He was never really good with holding back his tongue, anyway.

“I think she can make her own decisions, don’t you?”

Togame and Tomiyama do not take kindly to his words, and so it begins – a passive-aggressive verbal war.

“Ha, right. It’s been fun, eye-patch-kun, but we really oughta take her back home. You know, so that we can patch her up,” Togame says, and though there's a smile on his face, Suo understands the underlying message behind his words.

She got hurt in your territory, under your patrol.

Suo smiles back at him.

“Ah, sorry! I wasn’t quick enough to save her, but I’m glad I was able to sort this out before things got out of hand,” Suo replies.

All you guys do is blow things up out of proportion – with violence.

“If we’d been here, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place.”

“Hm. But you probably would’ve gone overboard.”

“Watch it –”

“Ah, sorry!”

It’s when Tomiyama finally opens his mouth that Suo realizes he’s been uncharacteristically quiet, and when they make eye contact, Suo’s smile deepens – because Tomiyama looked like he was ready to maul Suo into pieces, like a true Lion.

“Ume-chan and Furin are our friends,” he says, eyes darkening with every word, “but she’s our family – I think it’s best if you stand down.”

It’s at that moment that you come racing back towards them, your hands full of goodies and a grin on your face as you exclaim, “I got it! I got it!”

You hand Togame his Ramune, Tomiyama his snack, and … you hand Suo bottled tea.

“Sorry, um, I wasn’t too sure what you liked – but this is my favorite drink! Ah, um, if you don’t like it … Suo … I won’t be hurt. But you strike me as a tea lover so –”

You’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands wringing behind your back as you ramble and Suo can’t help the sweet smile and the small laugh that escapes his lips before thanking you.

And as soon as he’s done, you’re being whisked away back to your territory – back to your home.

As you walk through the passing, with Tomiyama’s arm intertwined with yours and Togame’s arm draped over your shoulders, you briefly turn around, just to catch one more glance of Suo.

He’s standing there, smiling as he raises his hand to wave at you. You smile back at him with a glossy look in your eyes before Togame softly flicks your forehead.

Your attention is on Togame now, pouty and dejected, before turning your head indignantly as you begin to lecture him about how you’re supposed to thank someone when they help you, and that it’s the nice thing to do.

In the heat of your lecture, you miss the way that Tomiyama and Togame also turn back to look at Suo.

In the darkness of the tunnel, Suo swears he can see their eyes glinting, and his smile only deepens. 

Their eyes, daring and territorial, only say one thing.

Ours. Ours. Ours. 

He had to admit, he wasn’t expecting this turn of events but he was intrigued now. 

And, it’s only after the three of you disappear that he realizes he never learned your name – your real name.

So, when he volunteers to take over the patrol where the Furin territory ends and the Shishitoren territory starts, who can blame him?

What Suo doesn’t know, though, is that after this little incident, you’re permanently banned from walking alone ever again.

(Of course, you’re not actually banned. But, you are given a scolding afterward – which, in your eyes, is rich coming from Togame and Tomiyama, but sure, whatever.)

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

The next time Suo sees you, it’s when he least expects it. 

You’re in Bofurin territory, with a small first-aid kit on your lap as you tend to the child in front of you. You’re smiling at the sniffling little boy as you wrap some gauze around his ankle, your fingers adept and swift, as if you’d done this countless times before.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it? You’re so strong!”

You ask him how it feels, and the little boy beams up at you, the tears in his eyes long gone and instead replaced with immense gratitude.

You smile down at him, playfully scolding him to be more careful as you pat his head softly.

And then Suo sees you hand him a lollipop — a lollipop — and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

So, really, can you blame him for sneaking up behind you and whispering into your ear?

“What brings you to Bofurin territory, princess?”

You yelp in surprise, before turning around so fast that Suo worries if you gave yourself whiplash.

Once your blush has gone down and the surprise of seeing him wears off, you explain that you’re here to get some bread for Tomiyama from the Cactus bakery.

He’d been saying that he wanted fresh bread, but there weren’t any in Shishitoren that you knew of. And as soon as he mentioned the Cactus’s Anpan over on Bofurin's side of the tunnel, well, who could blame you for taking that opportunity to not only do something for him but also for yourself?

Which, of course, was to hopefully run into Suo.

“He sent you all the way over here to pick up bread for him?”

“Hm? No, of course not. This is a surprise for him!”

“I see – I was wondering why you didn’t have your guard dogs around…”

“My guard dogs?”

“Oh!” you laugh and Suo thinks it’s the most pleasant sound he’s heard in his life.

“You mean Tomiyama and Togame? No, they don’t know I’m here. It wouldn’t really be a surprise if they knew, right?”

Suo’s starting to see it now – why they care for you so much. But he wants to know more, so he asks about the kid you were tending to.

“Ah — I saw him playing with some kids and he took a nasty fall. I didn’t think it was right to let him go home without care, so I patched him up. I hope that’s okay?”

Suo finds that he really likes talking to you. He likes how expressive you are, how kind you are, and how thoughtful you are. And he finally learns your name. He likes that about you too – it’s cute.

So, naturally, he offers to escort you to Cactus – purely just to keep an eye on you, he convinces himself.

And when he escorts you back to the border, all your goodies in one hand and his arm in the other, well – 

He doesn’t care enough to find justification for his actions. He just really liked you – plain and simple.

When you let go of his arm, he’s already grieving the feeling of your body pressed to his side. 

You were warm, soft, and he’s sure that if he ever got the chance to taste your lips, sweet.

“Let’s exchange contact information! That way, you can be my guard dog when I’m here,” you say as you pull out your phone, and Suo’s so so glad that he ran into you today.

When he adds your contact to his phone, he puts you down as Princess.

When you add his contact to yours, you put him down as Guard Dog. 

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

After that, you and Suo try to meet up. But… well…

You don’t see the point in trying to hide it. You were, after all, your own person. You could think for yourself, make decisions for yourself, and speak up for yourself. You were so open to loving and the Shishitoren boys knew this – so why should you hide it?

And when you had something on your mind, you were determined to make it happen. So, you don’t see why it would be any different with Suo. You had met him twice now, and you wanted to keep seeing him. To keep talking to him. To maybe even date him.

But to Shishitoren, this was equivalent to losing you – and they could never let that happen.

So Shishitoren never lets you see him – and it’s not like they’re barricading you inside the Ori or blocking the entrance to the border (though, they’ll admit that the thoughts crossed their mind in one way or the other).

No. They do it in a way that they know will make you stay with them – by acting like big babies.

The first to fall was Arima – 

You’re about to leave to meet up with Suo when Arima runs into the Ori, cries of pain leaving his lips as he whines at how much it hurts. You drop your bag immediately, texting Suo a panicked text about how something came up and that you’re sorry but you’ve gotta cancel today. 

You have Arima sit down, all your supplies laid out next to you as you ask him what happened and – 

It’s a paper cut.

But he’s babbling about how deep it is and how much it stings and it takes forever to just disinfect it and wrap a bandage around it before you realize that half the day’s just flew by for a minor injury.

Second was Kanuma – when he got a bad haircut.

Third was Sako – when he suddenly, out of nowhere, began asking you for advice about how you would approach someone who you used to look up to but lost respect for, who you vowed to fight and win against, only to lose against them and have them apologize to you (you, obviously, struggled with what advice you could even give him).

Fourth was Tomiyama – when he lost his favorite pair of sneakers.

Fifth was Togame – when he lost an eating challenge for the first time.

“It’s for the good of Shishitoren,” they say as they prepare the next victim.

Eventually, you find yourself tending to almost all of Shishitoren’s wounds, whether physical or emotional, and you just can’t believe that they’re fighting against you and Suo so hard.

But, in between all of that, you and Suo still manage to sneak in hushed phone calls and sweet texts.

Always asking about how the other’s doing, always talking about how your day went. He looks forward to it, he realizes, laying in bed as he hears you start to slur the ends of your words, drifting off into sleep.

And you send him photos all the time – it could be of a cat you came across while on the way to the Ori, or a drink that you tried that you liked – and with each text, with each phone call, Suo finds himself becoming smitten with you. 

You, who would remind him to drink water and to at least eat something small to get through the day. You, who had perfect memory and would follow up with the things that he’d talked about days ago, just because you were interested and curious (he’d mentioned that there was a tea spot that he frequented in Makochi, and it only took a day or two later for you to bring it up again, this time with all sorts of questions and comments like “I looked at what they serve! Which one’s your favorite?” and “I’d love to go there with you sometime, Suo – if I ever get the chance”. He’d only said the name of this tea shop once, but you remembered). 

And sweet, kind, loving you – who seemed to know whenever he had a particularly tough day. You were so attentive to him, which was surprising because all your interactions were never in person, but it seemed that you could understand his mood just based on the extra second it took for him to answer the phone or the way he responded to your text. And the thing was that Suo was great at masking his emotions – an expert, even. But you, who could just sense these things about other people, were giving him the chance to open up if he so chose to. You never pressed, never battered him for an answer. Just a simple – “I feel like there’s something on your mind, but if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay! Just know that if you ever need a shoulder to lean on, I’ll be there for you Suo.”

And, above all, you never stop trying. You never stop trying to escape the clutches of Shishitoren to see him – though you apologize every time your plans get thwarted as if you both weren’t expecting the same outcome.

But Suo doesn’t see you again, for months – not until a huge fight breaks out, and you’re honestly the last one he expects to see rushing onto the aftermath of the battlefield with a backpack filled to the brim with medical supplies and a determined look on your face.

They didn’t know Shishitoren was going to get involved and fight alongside them, didn’t know that the aftermath was going to be this bad. But if Suo had known that you’d be running to meet everyone afterwards, well – 

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

He sees you a mile away, and he’s so relieved that you’re not hurt. That you’re up and moving. That you’re here. But he’s also surprised and caught off guard because – why were you here?

It’s then that he sees your bag, sees the way that you’ve got your hair up and out of your face, and the way that you’re scanning everyone up and down so fast that your eyes never stop moving. 

My little nurse, Suo thinks, rushing to the injured like the sweet princess she is.

Little did you know that as he was fighting, there were only 3 things revolving through his mind – Bofurin, Makochi, and you. He fought to protect those 3 things that were so very dear to his heart, and to be greeted with the sight of you after winning? Well, it couldn’t be anything less but a sign of his hard work. A reward, if you will.

He sees you run up to Umemiya, serious and purposeful, as you open your mouth and wait for a response. Umemiya, though very confused, gives you an answer that you seem satisfied with because you nod, then thank him, and now you’re running towards Suo, and you make eye contact, and he can’t wait for you to dote after him and take care of him and – 

You smile at him, scan his body, nod –  and walk right past him. You never stopped for him, actually. You just kept moving. Just kept walking.

And Suo just watches – he watches as you make your way over to where Shishitoren is laid out, watches as they all let out a sigh of relief when they see you safe and unharmed, watches as they start talking animatedly to you as you start setting up for aid.

And you’re standing there with a pained look in your eyes as you nod at their words halfheartedly, more focused on the injuries that they’re sporting on their bodies than the words coming out of their mouths. You’re going from person to person as fast as you can, and although Suo can’t hear you, he can read your lips as you tell every single person – “I’m here now. It’s okay. Thank you for fighting. I’ll take care of you.”

He watches as you get to Tomiyama and Togame, and sees the way your eyes start to water as they pat your head and tell you that they’re fine – even though you have eyes, you can see how hard they’ve fought. Instead, they’re fondly thanking you for coming all this way just to take care of them.

And suddenly, everything got a bit too real for Suo. A bit too scary.

Because he didn’t realize how hard he’d fallen for you, in between those two fateful meetings, the constant late-night phone calls, and the never-ending texts.

It hits Suo like a train. He wanted to be the one that you search for in the crowd. He wanted to be the one that you’re fussing over. He wanted you to patch him up. He wanted you.

He was in love with you.

And he shuts down – completely.

He goes silent, uncharacteristically so, to the point that Sakura and Nirei are starting to get worried.

“What’s wrong, Suo-san?”

“Suo, what’s the matter with you?”

It goes through one ear and out the other – no response, no indication that he’s even present at the moment.

It’s when you’re patching up the last member of Shishitoren that you feel the heat of an eye on you – and your body reacts before your mind can.

Suo’s name is the only thing running through your mind as you finish up as fast as you can – and you’re off.

You’re making your way to where all of Bofurin is sitting, just barely slipping out of the grasps of the Shishitoren boys.

It’s Togame, with his long limbs, who reaches out and puts a hand on your shoulder and it’s Tomiyama, with his fast reflexes, who has your hand in his.

“Princess, no–”

“Let me find Suo.”

“But you don’t even –”

“Choji, Jo – let me go.”

They hesitate. You’d never spoken to them like this before. Never used their first names before. Never been so cold before.

But they weren’t fools. Even if you tried to hide it, they’d seen the way you sneaked off to talk to him or the way you thought you were hiding your phone when you were responding to him. Anytime they’d bring something up that had even an inkling to do with Suo, you were excitedly adding in your input – all while stumbling over your words as you tried to be mysterious. 

(They’d done a test, actually. All they did was bring up the word tea and you were fighting for your life as you kept accidentally saying Suo’s name when talking about your friend. 

“Ah, Su– AH, I mean, my friend really likes this type of tea.”

“Oh! That’s S– my friend's favorite place in Makochi!”

They didn’t have the heart to tell you because, well – you really sucked at lying.)

And they realize, with heavy hearts, that you were never theirs to lock up in the Ori. You were so kind, so lovable, so sweet, because that’s just who you are as a person. 

You were protected, sure, and healthy, sure, but you weren’t happy.

You, who were the embodiment of everything that Shishitoren was working to protect, had made a choice and they weren’t respecting it the way that you respected them – and they were being, well, selfish.

And when they finally let you go, you sigh in relief. Making your way over to where Suo’s sitting, you yell out over your shoulder, with so much spite, so much anger, and so much love – 

“You act like I’m never coming back – stop whining like puppies!”

Togame’s and Tomiyama’s eyes widen in shock before they both laugh lightly at your words in disbelief.

You really knew how to scold them.

“... she’s talking about you.”

“... nah, she’s definitely talking about you.”

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

When you made your way over to Suo, you were met with guarded and curious stares from all of Bofurin. Too focused and too determined, you brush it off. You knew about the fight that they had with Shishitoren, sure, but you thought that they had patched everything up? And Shishitoren had fought with them for this big battle, so why the curiosity?

If only you knew the real reason everyone was staring at you.

Instead, you find yourself running past all of them with Suo’s name falling from your lips, and when you see him, he doesn’t respond.

You pause, dejected, before repeating his name.

No response. 

Now you’re worried – and scared.

You recognize Sakura and Nirei, based on how Suo had described them briefly, and you immediately begin asking them what happened.

“Sakura, Nirei – is Suo okay? Did he get hurt? Does he need first aid?”

You’re met with silence – and shock.

“H-huh? Do we know you?”

“U-umm – sorry, have we met before?”

You pause at their response, looking at them confused.

You blink once, then twice, then three times – before glancing at Suo.

Unresponsive and unperturbed.

You introduce yourself slowly, giving Sakura and Nirei the chance to remember you – because they must’ve heard your name at least once, right?

They hadn’t.

And now you’re standing there with hundreds of eyes on you, as you come to terms with the fact that maybe … maybe you’d been wrong this whole time.

You clear your throat before timidly asking a question that you fear you already know the answer to.

“Did he um… did he not tell you about me? Uh… about us?”

And suddenly – everything goes to shit.

Shishitoren rises up in arms, walking over to where you are because why did you look so confused and why was Suo ignoring their beloved princess – 

All of Bofurin is staring at you with their mouths wide open, processing the words you’ve just said –

Sakura’s spluttering, desperately trying to form words as he continues to just point back and forth from you to Suo with shaky hands – 

Nirei’s got his notebook in his hand, flipping through it like a madman because how could he miss something like this, and had Suo ever talked about you? – 

Suo’s unresponsive, still – 

And then, to top it all off, Kiryu gasps because he’s finally solved it. He’d seen a text on Suo’s phone, so brief and so quick, but he was sure that the person Suo was texting was – 

“Oh! You’re the one he’s been texting! You’re Princess!”

At Kiryu’s words, you snap. 

And no one, not even Togame and Tomiyama, had ever seen you this angry, this upset, this livid.

You weren’t expecting him to go around screaming your name all over Makochi, but what you did expect was at the very least maybe his friends to know. Was that so absurd? You never tried to hide your feelings for Suo from Shishitoren (They tried so hard to stop it) so why wasn’t it reciprocated? Did he not feel the same way? Had you looked too deep into his actions and created a fantasy in your mind? Did you not really know him as well as you thought? 

Or worse – had he been toying with you? 

Oh, you were pissed – and poor Suo didn’t have a clue.

You go to stand in front of him, eerily calm and sickeningly sweet as you call his name one more time.

“Hayato Suo.”

Now that – that brings him back to his senses. You watch him blink in succession as he grounds himself, before his eye darts to you, to Furin, to Shishitoren – and he quickly puts the pieces together before letting out a stiff laugh.

“Ah – I was hoping to introduce you properly to everyon–”

“Am I a joke to you, Hayato?”

Suo freezes at your words. 

How could you, who had unknowingly wormed your way into his heavily guarded heart, be a joke?

But he realizes now – and he feels, for one of the few times in his life, stupid.

Because you love with your heart on your sleeve, and Suo loves with his heart tucked away.

And really, Suo should’ve known, because you’re you — you who gave Shishitoren something to protect and to hold close to their hearts, safe from danger and harm’s way.

You press on, fighting through the anger and the embarrassment and the fear you feel rising inside of you.

“Tell me Hayato, answer me. Was I? Hm? Did you have fun?”

“No, I –”

“Every call, every text – did that mean nothing to you? Was I just being delusional?”

“Wait I –”

You’re so close to him now, softly jabbing your finger into his chest as your words begin to get more and more shaky.

“Do you feel powerful, Hayato? Making a Shishitoren girl fall in love with you–”

You stop yourself, teary-eyed and vulnerable, and you feel so stupid. Because what hurts more than anything is giving someone all your love, all your time, all your energy – all for it to have been for nothing. You thought he felt the same, truly. But now? All you wanted was to walk away from all of this, walk away from Bofurin, and never ever look back.

He grabs your hand, desperately, as your words sink in. He wants to – no, needs to make sure that he’s not just hearing things. That he’s not just imagining it.

“You … love me?”

You pause, taking the chance to actually look at him. You see hope on his face, and you furrow your eyebrows in response.

“... is this another joke? Of course, I love you, you idiot. You would’ve been the first one I ran to but your leader said you guys were all patched up already so I –”

Everyone’s eyes turn to Umemiya, who shrivels under the attention and wordlessly mouths an “I didn’t know!”

But your eyes are only on Suo’s, and Suo’s is only on yours.

And Suo lets you see him, truly see him, for who he is. He doesn’t shy away from your stare, doesn't put on a mask, doesn’t push his feelings into the box that’s been his safe haven for so many years. 

Your eyes flicker with uncertainty and fear, but you convince yourself to try one more time. Just one last time. 

“Hayato Suo, I really do love you,” you whisper, so slowly, so hesitantly, so scared.

Then, with everyone’s eyes on the both of you, Suo slides one hand to the small of your back, and the other to cradle your face.

He wanted to learn how to love with his heart on his sleeve – just like you.

“… again.”

“… I lov—”

His lips cut you off, and honestly, you’re not even mad. Not when he’s pulling you flush to his body, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, and your fingers grasping at the collar of his jacket.

Black, with green embroidery.

“I love you, too – but I’m afraid there’s too many eyes here for me to show you how deeply I feel for you, Princess – I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Dazed, all you can manage is a soft nod and a flutter of your eyelashes before pulling his lips back to yours.

Suo smiles into the kiss. He was right, you were as sweet as he thought you’d be.

[pileofboneswrites]

LOVER BOY_headcanons.strangerthings

dating eddie munson headcanons

SUMMARY — relationship eddie headcanons

A/N — i just wanna say a quick thank you to everyone who liked my other eddie headcanons post, i wasn't expecting all the love, but i appreciate it immensely :))

MASTERLIST | BACK

when he likes someone, he thinks he's being really subtle, but he's not

him, a stuttering, nervous wreck; "uh hey, cool shirt"

you, deadpan; "it's your shirt, that you gave me to wear, because you thought i'd look cute in it"

always tries to impress you in silly ways

"wanna see how fast i can run?"

"bet i can jump and hit that sign without running"

"i caught you a squirrel because you said they were cute that one time"

is touch starved

as such, he will always be touching you in some capacity; hand on your knee while in class, hand on your thigh or fingers interlaced with yours while driving, he will sit on you if there's nowhere for him.

when you hug him, kiss him, or cuddle with him he will hold on and refuse to let you go until you're late, like really late, you'd have to leave ten minutes ago late.

is big on pet names when you're alone, but mostly calls you by your last name or a shortened version of your name when in public

he's big on baby, sweetheart, dollface.

angel and prince/princess are reserved for when he's fucked up royally, or you're sad or sleepy.

will touch everything you own

perfume/cologne sitting on your dresser? sprayed himself in the face with it the first time he picked it up, but really liked how it smelled so he puts a spitz on every time you leave him alone in your room. just spent the day at the pool and he needs to shower at yours? he will use your shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion and even your deodorant "do you want me to stink? :(". every time he comes in he finds something new to play with. old stuffie under your bed? he's carrying it around/hugging it/holding it until he leaves. trinkets on the top of your bed frame? he'll make them talk to each other when he's bored.

has a hard time sleeping when you're not close

he and sleep have rarely ever been on the same page, so he finds things to do to occupy his time, so when he's in a relationship that usually means he's dragging you along with him; be it going for a swim at 2am at lovers lake, a quick trip to the gas for snacks, or just straight up falling ungracefully through your window and crawling into bed with you to try and grab a couple hours of sleep (while simultaneously scaring the shit out of you because you were already sleeping).

because of the above, he will constantly nap around you while you're hanging out

you're his safe space, he spends most of his time in your presence passed out; laying on his back on the floor with his legs tossed over the side of your bed with his feet tucked under your thigh while you study, arms crossed over his chest while you're head's in his lap as you read out loud to him – he swears he's awake but every so often he lets out a soft snore, sitting on the couch watching a romcom with his head on your shoulder as he struggles to keep his eyes open, literally any time you touch his head/hair he's out like a light.

100% is glued to your side and tells everyone you're his best friend as well as his gf/bf

he goes on errands with you and spends 99% of his free time with you, he drags you along to band practice — which you usually use as an opportunity to feed baked goods to his bandmates (who absolutely adore you for it), when he's working you usually sit around with him passing him tools as he needs them — "uh need 9/16 wrench–" and it's already in your hand like you read his mind.

when you're not around, brags about you to anyone who will listen to him, and carries a picture (that he switches out for newer ones he takes) of you in his wallet that he shows off constantly — "look how cute they are" "my girlfriend/boyfriend is hotter".

writes songs about you

sometimes he'll write them just for himself, or for your ears only recording them on a tape just for you to have a reminder of how much he loves you.

you better believe that wayne loves you for being a good influence on him

you make him eat all breakfast, lunch & dinner — before you he would forget to eat and usually pumped himself full of caffeine only, you get him a reuseable water bottle (which you bribe him to carry it around and actually drink from it) — to his credit he now drinks at least one full bottle, you make him wear sunscreen & a hat on sunny days, waterproof footwear and jacket on rainy/snowy days (he's shocked when he doesn't get sick as often).

at first wayne was wary of you, unsure of whether your intentions were genuine or if you were going to pull one over on eddie — which disappeared the first time he came home from work and saw you too cuddled up on the couch watching one of eddie's favourite movies (it was the way you were staring at him as he shared his favourite parts or something he read about it, or a fact about the filming/production — wayne tells this story at your wedding all teary eyed about his eddie being all grown up and so very obviously loved).

takes photos of you all the time

cutesy date night photos, spicy half-naked photos (or just straight up naked naked), you sleeping, you making an ugly face, you mid-sneeze, you smiling, he has it all caught on film and he loves each and every photo so much.

total softie for you and you alone

you've gotten him to do things he's straight up refused to do for his friends, and even wayne

does literally anything you ask, and even sometimes you don't have to ask, he just does it because he knows it'll make you happy and that's all he strives for, you being happy.

[strawbeelemonade]

ROMANTIC HEADCANNONS: Pavitr Prabhakar

@emmy-luv Hi! this is literally the first request i've ever gotten!! i literally watched the new movie last night and started working on this immedietely after beecause i was so excited. there aren't really any spoilers in here- but i got a better feel for Pavitr's charecter after watching it so i'm glad i waited. i hope you enjoy :D

🕷 - Pavitr falls hard and fast.

🕷 - A die hard romantic at heart. He sees you, and he’s immediately taken by everything about you. His heightened senses will clue him in to even the smallest of quirks or habits, and oh! The way you scrunch up your nose is so cute!

🕷 - In the first instance of meeting you he is 100% all over you instantly.

🕷 - he'll talk a mile a minute about anything he has any input on. He also waits eagerly to hear what you have to say, tell him what you think! how do you feel about this? what do you think about that? This colour suits him, no? He knew you’d think so! That’s why he wore it.

🕷 - It’s his way bonding with you. He’s just so excited to chat with you. "This colour would look nice on you, Jalebi."

🕷 - He will show off in front of you. YOU KNOW HE WILL.

🕷- He will be over the top while doing even the most mundane things. You know those crazy stunts they pull off in Bollywood movies? Yeah it’s kind of like that.

🕷 - From opting to athletically dive off of a building instead of taking the stairs, to backflipping gracefully into a sitting on a chair. All the while he’s peaking discreetly over his shoulder to make sure you’re watching.

🕷 - he’s a little strange lmao

🕷 - He wants to look good for you, usually his fantastic looks are low maintenance but he finds himself picking up a new spray in the hopes for you to notice. And, not that he needs it, but you’ve even gotten him to start using conditioner. oh ho boy, You’ve really got him wrapped around your finger.

🕷 - He seeks out your approval, and when he gets it he absolutely preens. even a fool would recognise the puppy love from a mile away.

🕷 - He is naturally confident, and he wholeheartedly believes in his abilities. But everyone gets a little nervous when they have a crush, even Pavitr.

🕷 - Surprisingly he can become flustered quite quickly if you’re too generous with your compliments. His laugh will get louder and and his ears will go a bit red.

🕷 - He will swoop in to your rescue every chance he gets. It might get annoying to you after a while, or not. just be careful, If you make the mistake of complaining about the traffic of the city then you’ll find yourself suddenly hundreds of feet swinging the air in the direction you were headed.

🕷 - …What? He likes how you feel against him, carrying you is a breeze for him, he is incredibly strong after all. just sit back and enjoy the ride.

🕷 - I hope you don’t value your personal space. He’ll glue himself hip too hip with you whenever he can. He’s all over you in many other ways as well. He’s very touchy feely with those he’s affectionate with.

🕷 - if you’ve watched the movie you’ll know that he’s a great judge of character, and he’s also particularly in tune with your emotions. If you need space he will endure through the terrible experience of not being near you 24-7. He’s being very brave about it!!!

🕷 - just because he's clingy doesn't mean he isn't respectful.

🕷 - If your feeling out of place in a room he will find a way out for the both of you to get away for a bit.

🕷 - If there’s one thing you don’t have to worry about its a lack of transparency. Pavitr is honest with his intentions from the get go and will profess his loyalty for you so that theres no way to confuse his intentions. It might’ve already been a bit obvious when he started giving you flowers… But oh well, you appreciate his forwardness anyway?

🕷 - He introduces you to his family! He’s serious about you, after all. He will do everything to ensure you feel welcome in their home. He emphasises your radiant personality to his aunty by speaking out about all of your wonderful qualities while simultaneously showing how dutiful he can be to you by running to get you both some more Paneer Pakora and Masala chai.

🕷 - He can do long distance. No, really. Love is not dead. He will travel any distance to see you.

🕷 - Wether you’re from another dimension or you’re his next door neighbour he will make it work.

🕷 - If you’re from another universe your own city’s assigned Spider-person might get shown up by him a bit, this is even if you aren’t personally acquainted with them. His eagerness to show off in front of you might cause a few problems.

🕷 - It's not insecurity per se… he just needs to make sure you know how much better he is! All harmless fun!

🕷 - In the case that you are close with them Pavitr will rise to the challenge of any competition he picks up on between him and the other spider.

🕷 - If you need any rescuing then he’s there in an instant, revelling in getting to be the one to carry you to safety. he will laugh and crack quick witted quips to assure you that everything is ok. If you’re left shaken and in need of a little comfort he will gladly coo and dote on you gently. “Its ok, sweetie, main idhar hi hoon."

🕷 - If you’re ever in any danger— any real danger— all theatrics are off, and he will find himself moving faster, striking harder and fighting more forcefully then he’s ever had before. his heart is in his throat every second you’re in peril, and he won’t stop until you are in his arms.

🕷 - The moment you are safe he holds you tight, tighter than ever before. Voice quaking, he whispers how glad he is that you’re ok. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability for him, To bear the fear he’s feeling to you. He won't let you go for a while after that.

🕷 - If you’re even a little hurt he acts like you’re dying.

🕷 - “What’s this!! A mark? MEDIC!!!”

🕷 - Don’t worry, he’ll make sure you get any attention you need, medical or otherwise.

🕷 - smooch.

🕷 - He is incredibly cheesy. But he means well!

🕷 - He’s thoughtful, too. Your time spent together will be filled with well planned dates, maybe sharing some good traditional food in front of some gorgeous scenery. He’s an utter gentleman and takes pride in sweeping you off your feet.

🕷 - he can also be a bit over the top, but he means well!

🕷 - He’ll stay true to you, no matter what.

🕷 - If you ever ask him for anything then your request takes first priority. he will drop almost anything that he’s doing to satisfy you (this doesn’t include a bus full of passengers hanging off a cliff sorry).

🕷 - If you aren’t from India, or even from Mumbatan then he will be so excited to share his part of the world with you! He’s proud of his culture, and If you take an interest in it his heart will swell three sizes bigger. He appreciates that you’re so respectful and will patiently explain or share whatever you’re interested in to you.

🕷 - I feel like he’d know a lot of yo-yo tricks. he’ll show you a few of the ones he pioneered himself.

🕷- he strikes me as a peck on the cheek kind of guy.

🕷 - he’s also super cuddly! do i even have to say?

"Jalebi": a type of sweet that’s popular in the indian subcontinent

CHANGED: "yahee hai, yahee hai, priy." : That’s it, That’s it, dear.

TO: "main idhar hi hoon" : "I'm right here."

( thank you sm @bluebird-in-the-breeze for leaving a comment with the corrections to the dialogue :') i'm so lucky that you saw it and i'm really thankful that you were kind enough to help me improve it. your a real one fr!!)

Masala Chai: Masala tea (a type of tea.)

Paneer Pakora: a popular snack in Delhi, its Indian cottage cheese deep fried in a light coating of spiced flour. (yummy!)

Mumbatan: the in-spiderverse mashup of Manhatten and Mumbai (Mumbai is the capital state of Maharashtra, India)

I put these here so if anyone has any corrections i could make to the terms I’ve used to be more accurate then I can change them accordingly. I used online translators and articles… if anyone has any good websites for translating Hindi* or any other languages let me know! i'd be really interested.

[manifestobackshot]

thinking about perfume spraying points: cleavage, neck and behind the neck and how heeseung would bury his nose there and start licking when he kisses you. plus point if youre wearing an aphrodisiac perfume he would go feral

oh my god i’m literally obsessed with perfume so this ask has been driving me crazy

heeseung would be so obsessed with your signature scent because it reminds him of you, to the point where if he comes home and smells you, even though you’re not there, he’ll find himself stroking himself while calling your name, wishing that he could smell the fragrance on your flesh instead.

you smell so good to him, he likes being on top so he can put his face in your neck, by your ears, or wherever you spray your perfume at his own will. he likes pinning your wrists above your head and restraining you just so he can smell the fragrance on your skin specifically.

he loves when you’re done making love and the room just smells like you and sex, so nasty but so alluring to him. heeseung almost feels like he needs to fuck you once more, that’s how riled up your scent makes him.

[superblysubpar]

A/N: for @newlips #newlipsmilestoneoflove event! congratulations cece - you're truly so talented & inspiring - thanks for always working hard to bring the community together. And thank you for bringing personaltrainer!steve into my life, I hope this version of him lives up to the hype! To my lovely girls - thanks for literally holding my hand and forcing me to post this, it wouldn't have even been written without your constant encouragement & hive brain help.

I Want It, Can't Have It

personaltrainer!steve x fem!reader

Summary: Your co-worker Steve and you refuse to admit defeat in a game of who will give into their suppressed feelings for the other first. | masterlist | steve's music | NSFW 18+

WC Range: 5k-10k

Warnings: use of Y/N, Y/L/N, and too many petnames / talk of jealousy & comparison / a woman showing too much skin in the 80s?! Good heavens! / smut (unprotected piv - creampie, ass slapping and teasing, asking to cum, & public - locked bathroom door but people def know)

The smell of chlorine and lemon disinfectant, flickering fluorescents overhead and the record breaking ton of body spray wafting down the hall are making the tiny men with jackhammers inside your head work overtime today. 

Hearing him before you see him, you shake out a second pain reliever - taking preventive measures for the headache that was only about to be made worse.  

Whistling a top forty track, blazer’s squeaking against the tile of the hall - because he refuses to pick up his feet when he’s around you, and the thwip of a towel smacking a coworker’s ass as they banter all fall to your ears as he rounds the corner. 

Steve fucking Harrington. 

Unsure why, the two of you quickly agreed on one thing and one thing only upon your very first introduction: you positively hated each other and would do everything in your power to make sure the other never forgot.  

Eyes trained on the staff clipboard you’re filling out for taking medicine from the first aid kit, you choose to ignore him as he grows closer. Pen scratching against the paper, your senses try to focus on writing out your full name instead of how good he smells. A hard thing to not notice when it’s compared to the hazardous waste for sweat from the teenage boys you’d been forced to endure for the better part of the last hour. 

Of course, he can’t help himself and has to ruin the one thing that brings you semi enjoyment when in his presence, clearing his throat and nodding once, without even looking at you, “Jane Fonda.”

The use of one of the nicknames he refuses to let up with has your teeth grinding as you clench your jaw, “Bite me, Harrington.”

Steve spins, toned and tanned arms folded on the desk above you as he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head, hazel eyes peering down at you with contempt, “Oh good, glad to see you’re in a swell mood as always.”

Shoving the clipboard back into its slot, you push back in the rolling chair, relishing in his clenched jaw when the wheel squeaks a little too loud - two can play at the causing a headache game. An exaggerated pout forming on your lips as you force a bubbly and higher tone, “Oh. I’m so sorry. Let me go curl my hair, pop on a bright pink lip, and add an extra little perky bounce to my step so you can ogle my ass in bright blue spandex.”

“Could ya?” Steve’s lips shift up into a lopsided smirk at you.

Huffing out a breath and crossing your arms, you can’t even get another jab in before his twelve o’clock bounces through the door. To neither of your surprise, she’s dressed exactly as you had just described - blonde hair piled high in a ponytail on the top of her head just like Barbie and just like you knew it would be. Watching Steve train her for the past several weeks has been nauseating to say the least. Her leg stretched up and over his shoulder, their smirks and less than subtle flirting, and her slaps and squeezes of his biceps in an eye twitch inducing sort of way. 

“Hi Steve,” her voice sugar and spice and everything you’re not as she blows a bright pink bubble with her gum. You’re surprised Steve doesn’t pop it for her as he leans in close enough, one elbow still on the desk.

“Well, don’t you look cute today,” his voice deeper and full of a charm that’s very lacking from the way he talks to you. 

Twelve o’clock Barbie beams and he gestures down the hallway, hand on her lower back as she brushes past him. Steve lets her trail ahead, tilting his head with a sigh as he watches her ass jiggle in all the right ways. 

Scoffing at him, you chuck a rolled towel directly at the side of his head and hiss, “You’re such a fucking pervert!”

Steve spins backwards, clutching his chest and groaning through a wide grin, “I love it when you talk dirty to me babe.”

Eyes narrowing at him as he high fives one of your coworkers as he turns back around, arm wrapping over the shoulders of Barbie. Her bright and bubbly laugh trails all the way down the hall back to you, “So, did you catch the game last night?”

Steve hums, “I don’t think so…which teams were playing?”

“Oh…uh…the Cubs?”

Rolling your eyes with a snort at her question of a response. 

Baseball. 

It’s fucking February. 

Randy, your co-worker, snickers and then looks at Dylan who rounded the corner as well, shaking his head, “Five bucks he pretends he did watch the game and does her in the locker room?”

Dylan laughs, sticking out his hand for a deal, “Ten if he gets her to tell him details of the nonexistent game too.”

The boys look at you laughing and don’t even try to hide their conversation or amusement with Steve the manwhore Harrington. You’re just one of the guys here, and something about this fact that’s never bothered you before, this interaction you’ve had many times already, is burning your blood a little more than you’d care to admit. 

Their words about her perfect hair, the curve of her ass in the spandex, and the low cut of the leotard are only flashing spotlights to your exact opposite features you can see in the reflection of the glass windows. Dull and sweat matted hair shoved under a baseball hat, dark and muted tones of your joggers and sweatshirt - which now has a stain on it from lunch. Curves don’t exist, your footwear is sensible, and your skin doesn’t have that perky glisten or glow - it’s sweaty and flushed in all the wrong ways. 

Yanking your whistle down from the hook, you push past the boys. You could care less about 12 o’clock Barbie and you’re happy with your life. Confident you don’t need someone like Steve Harrington in it to make you feel fulfilled because you are independent and have a clear and level head atop your shoulders. A man staring at your ass isn’t what you want, you want to be appreciated for your brains, personality, your interests - screw pretending to like baseball to get a guy to sleep with you. You want the one who knows you like it and genuinely wants to talk to you about it, baggy sweatshirt and all. 

But when you hear a giggle and see Steve and 12 o’clock Barbie sneaking into the bathroom your stomach somersaults and something in you snaps, shouting down the hall, “Harrington! Nobody’s paying you to sleep with clients!”

Steve freezes, his strained muscles and vein in his neck visible even at a distance and his face reddens. He’s pissed.

But he turns with a bright and forced smile as Barbie dips into the locker room with an inflamed face as well. Steve walks down the hall towards you, arms crossed and head tilted, “What the hell is your problem?”

You have a lot of problems. Number one being you don’t understand what possessed you to do that, but you can’t tell him that, obviously. Queen of thinking on your feet though, you cross your arms and cock your head, “Wouldn’t want you to lose your job for not being able to keep your dick in your pants is all, buddy.”

He scoffs loudly, stepping closer to you until your back hits the wall, “Really? I would’ve thought you were the first person wanting me out on my ass, Mary Lou.”

Rolling your eyes at the new nickname, you try to side step and get out of there but his hand pushes to the brick over your shoulder, caging you in. 

Steve towers over you, faces close together and he smirks as you squirm under his insistent gaze. Steve leans closer, “Oh, I get it,” he whispers, nose almost touching yours. He’s close enough for you to see his lashes, the gold flecks in his eyes, and the freckles that dot his nose. His breath mint and charm fanning across your cheeks as he continues, “You’re jealous.”

“As. Fucking. If,” you hiss at him, nose bumping his just barely as you lean forward and narrow your eyes. 

Steve and your shallow breaths mix and amplify in your ears, everything else muffled like it’s underwater. Fingers clenched into fists at your sides, Steve’s tongue dips out to lick his bottom lip. Yours part involuntarily, his eyes glint, the mossy color deepening to a mix of dangerous forest and stormy sea and god fucking dammit, you sigh. 

Someone, somewhere in the universe, slaps you in the face in the form of Barbie dipping out of the locker room and pulling both of your attention in a blur of turquoise. Steve’s arm drops and he steps back, a smile on his face again as he turns to her, “Hey babe, ready?”

He leaves with her and it isn’t until you see them disappear around the corner and you count to five that your muscles start to unfurl, fingers uncurling from where they had been pressing crescent moons into your palms. 

Your head falls back against the brick, “Shit.” 

Snapping the palette closed, you stare at the contents littering the counter of your bathroom, untypical for a weekday. 

No. You will not wear eyeshadow to your job at a gym. 

With time to reflect on what happened with Steve on Friday, you’d only stewed and steamed more about Barbie. Steve calling you jealous? Of what? Her perfect hair and skin and body and that she was the one who got his eyes to linger?

Please. 

Steve just loves that you’re not drooling and falling over yourself for him - a challenge, a toy he can’t have. You’ve worked with him and the boys long enough and they’re all the same. They love having a pretty thing wrapped around their arm, a token to remind them they’re a winner, because it’s all just a game. They live for the rush of the chase and the high of someone screaming their name like a stadium full of fans. And you know without a doubt, Steve calling you jealous and the incident on Friday was his tip of the ball to his side of the court. He wants you to beg for it. And you’re not going to do that, because you know that it’s actually Steve who wants you. 

Smirking, you pull out an outfit you’ve yet to wear to work, a little giddy from the plan that’s slowly formulating. Steve isn’t the only one who knows a thing or two about playing games, and it’s time to show him who he’s up against. 

As typical with Steve, he shows up after you to work that day. He’s always balancing a gym bag on his shoulder, jacket slung across only one arm like he couldn’t bother to finish putting it on, hair in disarray (spending the first half hour of his shift fixing it in the bathroom) and a bagel hanging between his lips, dropping sesame seeds across the floor. 

Normally, Steve won’t even blink twice in your direction upon arrival. If he does, it’s only because you’ve gotten in his way, demanded he pick up the bagel crumbs, or you’ve done something else in the minute you’ve been in each other’s presence to annoy one another. Enough for him to remove the bagel and actually banter with you verbally instead of a grunt. 

Today though, his blazers squeak to a sharp stop and much to your delight, the bagel falls out of his mouth and hits the floor, egg sliding out and splatting and echoing in the quiet entryway. 

Grabbing your whistle and heading towards the gym for the morning meeting, you brush past him, looking over your shoulder as you call, “You better clean that up!”

A smirk still sits on your lips as you enter the gym and the conversation of all of the boys stops. Rolling your eyes at their lack of subtlety in analyzing your new look, you take your normal seat and start peeling a banana. Clearing your throat loudly, before small conversations pick up again. 

“You look nice today, Y/N,” Dylan, who’s sitting next to you mumbles. He picks at a loose thread of his joggers, eyes flitting up to yours and back down to his pants. 

Really, your outfit is not that crazy. It’s still in your color palette of cooler tones, you’re not even wearing spandex for crying out loud. A little bit of midriff showing has these boys blushing more than they ever have around you, and it’s hard to hide your amusement at how easily your plan is being implemented without barely lifting a finger. 

Humming, you blink up at him innocently, “Thank you Dylan.”

He coughs into his fist, “Ye-yeah. Did you…did you do something different with your hair?”

Tilting your head at him, you time your laugh perfectly to Steve walking in, “No, nothing different with my hair…”

Dylan watches you, eyes eager on your mouth as you lift the banana up to your lips. Slowly taking a bite, you keep eye contact with him. Fluttering your eyelashes and humming around the fruit, his mouth falls open a little and it takes everything in you not to snort. Especially when a hand makes contact with the back of Dylan’s head and Steve’s bored tone falls directly behind you, “Are you twelve?”

Dylan’s cheeks turn pink and he turns sharply to the front of the room and you nudge his knee with yours, reassuring him it’s okay, before turning to face forward too. A small smile sitting on his lips and you relish in Steve’s sigh behind you. 

Unfortunately, Steve seems to realize what you’re doing far sooner than you anticipated. 

As your boss begins the meeting, hot breath fans across your neck, his voice low and barely audible even with his lips just brushing your ear, “Nice try.”

Your body betrays you and a chill runs down your spine, causing a shiver despite the embarrassed and irritated heat trying to reach every corner of your skin. You know if you turn around you’ll be face to face with a smug look and crossed muscular arms, so you don’t put yourself through the misery. 

Steve is better at this, you hate to say it, but it just means you have to think of new ideas for your playbook. 

Your clothes only get tighter and expose more skin each day. You’re playing dirty: leaning over him to grab a clipboard so your chest brushes against his arm, bending down to tie your shoe right in front of him, and at one point you tugged on the whistle around Dylan’s neck right in front of him before swaying your hips as you left him standing there shaking his head. But Steve barely broke, a tough competitor with a good defense and even better offense. Steve’s hand found your lower back in passing, brushing a piece of hair from your cheek, and his flirting with Barbie and other clients only got more obvious which you didn’t think was possible. 

A week of going head to head with Steve in these little games all to prove that you weren’t jealous and it was him that wanted you. But, he was still determined it was the other way around, waiting for you to beg, to wave the white flag and just let him win. Today was your final straw, pulling out all of the stops - black spandex biker shorts and a black sports bra with, much as you hated to do it, a face full of makeup and hair styled. 

When you arrive at work on Friday, you have to actively focus on keeping your composure around Steve because it seemed he was taking a final stand in this war as well - black baseball hat, shirtless while playing basketball, his shorts slung low on his hips. 

You hate him. 

Friday’s were slow though, thankfully, and had Steve and you basically switching jobs, you with clients and him in the gym - away from each other for most of the day. Or at least, you should be away from one another for most of the day. 

Filling out a form while leaning against the counter, Steve’s voice draws your attention, “Hey, Muscles.”

A smile twitches on your lips and you look up to see him pulling a gray shirt on as he approaches, eyes lingering on the lines of his stomach, the trail of hair leading to a black elastic band peeking out of his shorts. 

Turning your body towards him, you relish in his own lingering gaze over you as you tilt your head, “Muscles? That’s a new one. And, dare I say, a compliment?”

Steve leans against the counter, squeezing water from his bottle into his mouth, some dribbling out, and you hate that you want to lick the small bead of water directly off of his skin. He shrugs, trying to act nonchalant and turns his hat backwards before facing the counter. Drumming his fingers against it aimlessly, he glances at you out of the corner of his eye and sighs before admitting, “Well, you have been showing them off a bit more this week.”

Rising onto your toes, you drop the pen on the other side of the desk and risk a glance back at him. But he’s too busy staring down at your ass and you whisper, “Seen anything else you’ve liked this week?”

Steve’s eyes dart up to yours quickly, licking his lips as his hands land on top of his hat, his arms flexing as he breathes out a quiet laugh that ends in a groan, “Fuck.”

A smile worthy of a championship victory fills your face and he rolls his eyes. Before either of you can say anything, the voice of your boss hollers loudly across the room, “Y/L/N!”

“Yes sir?” turning to face him, you stand up a little straighter at his tone and quickly forming scowl.

He sighs as he approaches and glances at Steve who attempts to keep himself busy with a clipboard a few steps away. Your boss is nice, stuck in that sort of manly man kind of world and opinions, but nice nonetheless. You do good work and you’ve never had this sort of look opposite of you. He rubs his temples and he sighs, “I need you to find a change of clothes.”

Snorting before you realize he’s serious, he crosses his arms and you match him, your mouth dropping open as you ask, “Are you serious? Why?”

“Listen, just, this is a professional work environment and you’re showing a lot of skin and I need you to-”

Holding your hand up, you interrupt him, “That is absolutely ridiculous. No.”

He groans and grabs a stack of clipboards, “Don’t get upset, please. You’re a good worker and I don’t want to write you up but-”

Your laughter is loud and you throw an arm out to Steve who’s failing to pretend he’s not listening, “So Harrington can basically have his dick in a client, but I can’t show my shoulders and stomach?”

“Y/L/N! Enough! Get a sweatshirt. This is your only warning.” He walks away with the clipboards and you’re left seething, kicking the counter with a grunt. 

Forgetting that Steve was even there to witness all of that, you’re reminded when a piece of fabric brushes your shoulder. Eyes snapping to his, you glare at him, yanking it from his outstretched hand and stalking away before he can give you any sort of pity. 

Fingers brushing under your lashes, you refuse to cry about any of it, screw this place, screw your boss and screw Steve. It’s his fault you changed how you looked. It’s his fault your boss doesn’t take you seriously now. It’s Steve’s fault that you let a “victory” over something so stupid and juvenile cloud you from your work and your values. You changed your clothes, your appearance, and your attitude, and for what? To prove Steve likes a different version of you? Does it even feel good knowing you got his attention?

Pulling the sweatshirt on, you hate that you recognize that it’s his from the smell filling your senses. Hands shove themselves inside the pockets and they brush against a piece of paper. A folded sheet from a notebook with your initial on the front, you pull it open to see ‘Meet me. Bathroom. -Steve’.

Scoffing, you shove it back in the pocket and storm off towards the staff bathroom. He’s so full of himself, probably expecting to swoop in and comfort you and still score. You slam the door open and he jumps, grabbing at his chest before resting his hands on his knees.

“Jesus Christ, could kill a guy with an entrance like that.”

Closing the door and leaning against it, you cross your arms and hiss, “What do you want, Harrington?”

He stands and mirrors your stance, leaning against the sink as he shrugs, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

“I’m fine. Thanks for the sweatshirt. Anything else?” you don’t make any movements to leave despite your better judgements.

He leans his hands back on the counter, smirking, “Well, I couldn’t help but overhear you’ve been thinking about my dick.”

Pushing yourself off of the door, you snort, “Seriously? Do you really think I still want to sleep with you?”

Steve’s smirk widens, lips upturned slightly higher on one side in a signature lopsided grin, “Still?”

Your hand points at him, stopping any sort of thoughts from running away, “No. Listen. Steve, you only started to give me the time of day when I dressed differently, when I acted like those other girls and I hate to break it to you, but I am and never will be like Barbie.”

Steve takes a step closer, toes of your shoes touching and he reaches for your wrist, thumb brushing over the skin tenderly in a way you never expected from him as he shakes his head, “You’re crazy if you think I wasn’t staring at your ass before this week, Florence.”

Heart thrumming at his admission, you tilt your head at the new name, “Florence?”

Steve’s fingers brush up your forearm, gliding under his sweatshirt, “Griffith-Joyner? Flo-Jo?”

Breath hitching, you’re starting to wonder if he’s looking up these women on purpose. Thoughts of Steve researching or deciding new names to call you outside of work sends electric jolts straight to your heart. He can’t know, and you can’t let him think you’re falling for any of this and you start to pull away. His fingers are on your shoulder now and he sighs. From how his eyes are peering directly into your soul, you know he already knows that you’re hooked - line and sinker. 

He pulls you closer, fingers on the back of your neck, the other hand reaching up to cradle your jaw and his nose nudges yours, “Say you want this.”

Your hands work on their own accord, pushing up his chest to around his neck, head craning to arch back, rising on your toes slightly as your lips catch his barely as you breathe out, “You first.”

His hand on your neck squeezes lightly, laughing a little into your parted lips, “Fuck, you’re so stubborn.”

Steps falling backwards, your shoes are being kicked off your feet, “Wh-what time is it?”

Steve blinks at you, barely pulling away, his body pressing you against the door now, “What?”

Your hands find his hips, fingers dipping under the elastic waistband, “I have a 2 o’clock appointment.”

Steve breathes out, bottom lip catching your top one, “Shit, yeah, I’ll be…I’ll be fast.”

Laughing, your hands push at his shorts, “Is that supposed to impress me Harring-”

“Fuck, just shut up,” he commands, mouth swallowing the end of your sentence in a kiss. 

Steve’s thumb brushes against your jaw as your mouths move with each other’s quickly, like that first sip of water after hours of sweating. Steve kisses you like it’s the first and the last, somehow tender and forceful, fingers tangling in your hair while his tongue pushes against yours. 

Pants shed quickly, his other hand rubs against the front of your already wet underwear and he moans into your lips. Breaking away, you finish pulling his boxers down and bite your lip as the swollen red tip of his length twitches under your touch. 

Steve’s fingers tug your underwear aside, finger running up and down through your slick in a way that makes your legs buckle. His breath is shallow against your skin, foreheads touching but you can still see his smirk, “Think you can handle it, pretty girl?”

Fingers wrapping around his length, you roll your eyes and ignore the way the ‘pretty girl’ makes your stomach flutter alive with a swarm of butterflies, “Please, it’s not that big.”

Steve laughs, a little too loudly, and your other hand slaps over his mouth. His eyes sparkle above you, gold flecks that seem like your own little personal spotlights, lighting you up in a way you didn’t dare dream of. 

You are fucked. 

But he can’t know that, he can’t win. Because despite the way his fingers dipping into your entrance suddenly has you gasping and your eyes rolling, the way your thumb swipes over his leaking tip has the same effect on him. It’s an even playing field and you’re determined to make him sweat a little more. 

Your hands move around his neck, pulling his mouth to yours, “You have five minutes to prove me wrong, Harrington, think you can handle the pressure?”

Steve’s hands find your hips and lift you, your legs wrapping around his waist like you’ve done it hundreds of times before and he looks down at them with raised eyebrows, “Have you done this before?”

“Four minutes and forty eight seconds Steven,” you catch his bottom lip and he moans. 

His fingers hold your underwear aside as he rolls his hips, coating his dick in your slick with a few swipes through you, tip catching your clit before sliding back down and pushing into you forcefully and without warning. He catches your scream and gasps with his mouth, nodding against you as he slowly continues to push into you. Your fingers grip the back of his head, causing his hat to fall off, as your head smacks into the door behind you, back arching away from it. Steve’s hands on your hips hold you steady, fingers digging into the plush skin of your ass as they caress down and cup it. 

Once he’s fully inside of you, and your breathing seems to slow again, he pulls his mouth away just enough to whisper, “Knew ya could handle it.”

“Four…fuck…minutes” his hips roll against yours and a moan echos across the tiles and the distinct sound of a click of the lock as his hand reaches below you. 

Your body heats with embarrassment, you hadn’t even thought about locking the door and Steve knows it. Your fingers tug at the back of his head in an effort to gain control again, yanking it a little too forcefully and he growls as you hiss, “Gonna move or not?”

Steve’s hands move back to your hips after giving your ass a harsher squeeze, pulling out of you slowly, “Are you ever not bossy?”

Before you can reply he’s pushing back into you, smirking at the way your mouth falls open and no sound leaving it as he hits the deep spot inside of you quickly. He continues his slow pulls and forceful pushes, the muscles of his shoulder tensing, able to feel each twitch and move under your hands through his shirt. His fingertips bruise your hips, dragging your slick walls back and forth across his length at an agonizing pace. Your legs locked around his waist, you glance down to where your bodies connect, the sight of your slick coating the rough patch of hair at his base making your walls clench around him tighter. Steve’s breath hits your neck, squeezing your hips even harder as he gasps out against your temple. 

Smirking at his weakening defenses, you hide your own insatiable desire, teasing, “Harder, Steve.”

The boy whimpers, nose pressing into the sweat slick skin of your neck as his hips pick up their pace. The sounds of your shallow breaths mix with the sharp slapping of your skin, and he groans, “Fuck-I can’t…I can’t-”

“Come on, Steve, this is the best you can do? I thought you do this all the ti-”

He’s had it with your teasing finally it seems, and he pulls out of you harshly, arm wrapping around your waist to spin you before yanking you back against his chest. 

Wet lips brush your jaw from behind, arm squeezing in a warning around your stomach, “Tell me what to do again. See what happens.”

Biting the inside of your lip, you don’t trust your voice to not give away the tidal wave of arousal that’s threatening to crack the dams you have in place. A breath out through your nose before you whisper, “Don’t be mean.”

He laughs against your neck, lips dragging down and awaking a sea of goosebumps to rise across your skin. He speaks into the sweat kissed dip of your shoulder, “So, she dishes it out, but can’t take it?”

Before you can even respond, Steve’s pushing your back, chest falling to the counter in front of you as his hands find your hips. His voice is stronger, deeper, rougher as he commands, “Open.”

Your head falls forward, eyes squeezing shut at his tone, thighs sticky and pushed together tightly from the arousal that’s reached its breaking point with barely any touching and a simple word.  

The swollen and wet tip of his cock presses into your ass as he squeezes your hips, “Baby, don’t make me say it again.”

Every time he’s called you a name other than an athlete has you seeing stars already, wanting to keep playing the game to see how many more you can collect. Pressing yourself against him, you arch your back as you pout, “A please would be nice.”

His hand connects with your ass, a sharp smack that echoes and stings as he mocks, “Please?”

Legs falling open easily, he slides himself through your slick, dragging and coating his tip in your arousal even more, you know you’ve lost, because he’s the one with the power now. His hand pushes between your shoulder blades, the other gripping the dough of a cheek, slapping it again as his tip bumps your swollen nerves with a precision you know is one hundred percent on purpose and stupidly accurate. 

Without warning again, Steve pushes into your entrance, a cry stopped by the press of your teeth into your bottom lip as your fingers grasp for purchase on the flat surface beneath you. 

Steve’s agonizing pace from earlier is gone, slamming his body against yours in a brutal and bruising speed. Your hands start to push against the counter and Steve’s hand drags down your spine, pushing on your lower back gently in contrast to his forceful command, “Don’t move.”

Walls tightening around his cock at his tone, the sounds of him pulling and pushing into your dripping center mix with the quiet bump of your knees hitting the cabinet in front of you rhythmically.   

His fingers not on your back knead into the plush skin of your ass after smacking it lighter than before, but still hard enough for you to tighten around him again. He moans, huffing a long breath out of his nose, “Fuck, like being told what to do, huh?”

Hips never stopping their harsh thrusts, your breath sticks in your chest as you keep your moans stifled, threatening to bubble up and past your lips as he smacks the same spot again, the sting coating your lashes in wetness as he whispers, “I asked you a question babe.”

It’s a breath, and if you couldn’t see yourself in the mirror in front of you, you may not have even realized you admitted it, “Yes.”

Steve’s fingers trail from their soothing kneading against the red skin, to your hip, brushing down your thigh and back up. His hips roll and he picks up his pace, humming out a content sigh at your admission. His eyes lock on yours in the mirror and he smirks, “So good for me, being such a - shit,” his eyes close as you push your ass back against him, slipping him in deeper than before, fingers dragging on the cool counter. He grunts through the rest of his sentence, “You’re so mean to me, but this is what you wanted all along, yeah?”

Moaning at his question, your eyes squeeze closed, the coil inside of your stomach pulled tight, body vibrating and chasing that breaking point until you have to release. He leans forward, brushing his lips against your shoulder, hands back to your hips as he hits that deep spot inside of you repeatedly with bruising accuracy. Steve smiles against your skin, “You act all disgusted by me too, and turns out,” his lips and nose glide across your muscles, warm breath fanning across your skin and his fingers brush back up to your hips as his mouth opens more against you, trailing to your neck. His breath shoots the tightening in your stomach into overdrive and a whine falls from your parting lips as his fingers adjust on your hips, whispering, “You’re just as much of a slut as I am.”

Eyes fluttering and breath hitching at his comment, your back arches up again, but not far enough before he presses his weight against you. Pushing himself faster and to a spot that feels like you can feel him rearranging your guts and you both moan loudly, his breath hitting your neck in a way that has your fingers searching for purchase beneath them, whining louder and your knees aching to collapse. 

Steve gasps harshly, sucking in a deep breath he can’t quite finish, the sound directly in your ear and before another moan can break past your lips, his hand is coming up to press over your mouth. Your eyes rolling back as he whispers against the shell of your ear, “Be good baby. Wouldn’t want anyone to get fired for not keeping their dick in their pants, right?”

Nodding your head as he slowly lets his hand go. Your sighs quiet until his other hand wraps around your waist, pressing the pads of his fingertips into your swollen button. You jolt at the stimulation he had yet to reward you with, knees losing their battle and buckling, Steve holds you up, grunting as you cry out quietly, “St-steve.”

Somehow quickening his pace, his thumbs circular motions match perfectly to the rhythm of his hips, “Quiet, come on, babe, thought you were good at following instructions.”

Whimpering as he thrusts into you harder, your body fully collapsing against the counter, cheek pressed to the cool of the stone underneath it. Steve’s swirls to your swollen nerves are the breaking point, the added weight that breaks you from pushing it any further, unable to do another rep and your lashes wet, “Steve, I’m gonna - fuck, I-”

He can feel you tightening around him, his own hips stuttering but the game isn’t over yet. His mouth drags down your neck and another shiver runs through you as he smirks into your shoulder, “A please would be nice.”

And with your own sentence thrown back at you, he’s won.

Eyes opening, you see his own watching your body swallow everything he gives it eagerly. Standing back up fully, his cheeks flushed pink, hair sweeping across his forehead. His fingers dig into your hips as his bottom lip pulls between his teeth. His head falls backwards, breath huffed out of his nose. 

“Please.”

Unsure if he says it again or it’s you, both of you collapse into the feeling of releasing. His thumb continues its circling as his hips stutter un-rhythmically. Both of you gasping out for breath as your walls milk his release and your body relaxes into its own. Muscles unfurling, fingers flattening to the counter, back arching as his hand caresses down your spine in buzzing tenderness. Meeting gazes in the mirror again, his chest heaves in time with yours and your rolling eyes are met with a widening grin on his face. 

A loud knock comes from the door and you both jump, your hand slapping over your mouth as Dylan’s voice calls through the closed door, “Y/N! You in there? Mr. Conners has been out in the lobby for ten minutes!”

Steve leans forward, grabbing your hand from across your mouth. He presses it down, covering it on the counter with his large one. His other squeezes your hip as he stays buried inside of you. He nips at your neck and you squeak out, “Uh-I, I’m not feeling well, can someone else do it?”

A huff on the outside of the door and Steve’s mouth starts sucking a bruise into the skin below your ear and you smirk, calling out more confidently, “I bet Steve could! He’s not doing anything today!”

Steve pinches your waist and you yelp, walls tightening around him and he moans loudly at the feeling, still sensitive from his release. Reaching up awkwardly from your still bent position, you flick the side of his head. 

A louder sigh from the other side of the door and a groan, “Man, fuck you Harrington. I know you’re in there with her!”

Steve and your laughter is hard to keep quiet as Dylan kicks the door, his voice trailing off as he walks away, “You just can’t let anyone else win can you? You two deserve each other.”

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought, and I hope you consider reblogging my work to get it circulated to new readers - thanks for being here 💛

Steve Tag List: @boomhauer @loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean @pastel-pillows @littlesubbyflower @edsforehead

[eddiesghxst]

guys yes yes i am a genius

i don’t know if you’re up to writing a perv!eddie but him and trevor are very very similar.

trevor makes more than sexual remarks, he’s disgusting in an attractive way. eddie does the same thing, he’s a stalker, if he lived in modern times he’d use your panties as a face mask, he will wake you up because your arms are around him and he gets an erection for the tenth time that night i’m not exaggerating

so i want to bring your attention to when you go see eddie play at the hideout one night, you’re starting to see him more romantically than platonically now. you wearing a short jean skirt and a white tank top with no bra that your boobs are very very visible in (my outfit rn) you’re sexy in the way that it makes eddie’s heart stop in his throat and his thighs clench as he plays guitar (shirtless?)

anyway when he meets you backstage, he’s slipping his hands under the skirt, rubbing the undersides of your thighs as you pull him closer with your belt loop. youre wrapping one arm around his neck, the other pressed against a chest tattoo.

you tell him that he has a groupie, leaving a lipstick mark on top of the tattoo

kissing him open mouth so hard and so passionately it makes his head spin (the kind of head spin when you get an orgasm and you can’t think of anything else but how good you feel except you’re literally only kissing him)

every time he punches someone for looking at y’all while you make out, every single time you tell him you can’t stand him when he does it with a small smile

every time he puts his hands in your back pockets, caressing your ass and he kisses your jaw while telling you that you can have anything you want, you can call him any name in the book if you kiss him like that one more time.

🫶 anon

oh i want him so bad jesus christ

18+ — MINORS DNI

————

eddie goes insane for you in every way shape and form, and it only intensifies after his shows. it’s a larger crowd tonight so he’s pumped on adrenaline and nerves, shredding his guitar and singing like it’s the last chance he’ll ever get to do it and you— god, you look so fucking good and it’s egging eddie on in ways he can’t explain.

the skirt you’re wearing is short, clings to your hips and thighs so deliciously eddie can’t wait to sink his teeth into you afterwards. cant wait to slip his hands under and squeeze your plushy skin until you squeal for him. cant wait to push your flimsy good-for-nothing tank top up and suck your tits into his mouth like a starved man.

and you’re just so excited for the band and how good they performed, you hardly pay attention to eddie’s hunger gaze as you walk up to them cheerfully, telling them how good they did and how proud you are.

eddie presses up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, dipping his head into the crevice of your neck and breathing in that intoxicating fucking perfume you always spray that makes him harder than a goddamn rock. he groans and you giggle, tilting your head against his as your hands rest over his large ones, squeezing as you turn in his hold to face him.

you praise him as you pepper kisses all over his face and eddie smiles, says a quick thank you before digging his teeth into his lower lip and letting his hands trail over your ass. you squirm as his hands dip beneath the denim skirt you have on. “where do you think you’re going looking this pretty, princess?” he growls, nipping at your ear as he squeezes the fat of your ass.

and you’re so thankful the lighting in the hideout is shot to shit and eddie has you pushed into a corner because nobody seems to see your boyfriend push up the back of your skirt to fully grasp your ass, thumbs dipping below the black thin string of your thong before he cracks a palm down on your skin. you yelp his name and push at him, “eddie,” you whine, “there’s people here.”

eddie chuckles and pulls down your skirt, “sorry, sweetheart. just can’t help it when it comes to you, you know that.”

and he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself for the rest of the night so you result to sucking him off in the restroom. not the first or last time it’s happened.

————

ALSO, bestie i did my research and i swear trevor and eddie are distant relatives bc omg😭😭😭 the mannerisms are so alike i screamed

[urtheloml]

wonder how we got this far (i don't really need to wonder at all)

pairing: bakugou x reader w/c: 9k synopsis: you're excited about the prom, bakugou is not— disagreement ensues a/n: i'm back... first post of 2023 n the year is almost over... embarrassing 🧍🏼‍♂️this is the third n final installation to my little white lie mini-series!! read part 1 here n part 2 here!! this can be read as a standalone too :3 uhm... i started this fic in like... april (??) n completely forgot abt it until last week so i have no idea what the original plot was going 2 be but i think it turned out okay (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) also i know this fic is SOOOO overdramatic but i have watched every single movie that had a major prom scene (hsm3, the duff, mean girls, etc) n growing up, i looked forward it to SO bad that i literally used it as motivation to do well in exams. but then COVID happened so no prom experience for me so this is me basically projecting onto my writing!! okay mwah hope u like it xx o((>ω< ))o!!

Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. The opening scene of the Bee Movie plays like a mantra in your head as you're searching for something in your closet. Your ears pick up the occasional grunt or cheer from your boyfriend, who's currently laying in your bed with his DS in hand, and your eyes roll affectionately.

You can't find what you're looking for so you abandon the mess you've made in your drawer and turn to Bakugou instead. "'Katsu, have you seen my can of body glitter? It's in a little purple spray bottle."

Bakugo barely glances your way, "No, why would I have seen that. Why d'ya need it anyway?"

Your body slumps against his comfortably as you cosy up next to him on your bed and even if it's been a while, your heart still skips when he immediately tangles his legs with yours. "I need it to make myself glittery for the prom, duh. You can use it too if you want before we leave."

"Huh?"

"The prom. The dance thing we're going to, in like three days?"

Bakugou's eyebrows scrunch up confusedly as he puts his DS down and immediately a bad premonition settles in your gut. "What are you talking about? I never said I was going to that shit."

Ah. There it is. You're glad he put his game down 'cause if he wasn't looking at you while you're about to have this conversation then his console might have landed outside your window right about now. You're looking at him incredulously when you say, "What do you mean you're not going? You're my boyfriend so you have to go. It's like an unspoken rule... you can't not go to prom. Who's gonna take me then? You want me to go alone, like some loser?"

The barrage of questions makes him smile amusedly at you, but for once the sight of it induces anything but affection in you. There's no way he's taking you seriously right now. Bakugou scoffs and turns back to his game, "Huff all you want, princess, but I'm not going to the prom."

Before he can start a new game, your body lands on top of him unceremoniously so you have his undivided attention. "'Tsuki! This is our one and only prom as high schoolers. Doesn't that mean anything to you? I want to go and dance with my girls and I want to dance with you. Please?"

His jaw ticks, and he looks away from you because he knows if he stares too long then he'll cave. He refuses to go and you're not about to sway him. He has his own reasons for not wanting to go and he'll stand by them if it's the last thing he'll do.

"I told you I ain't fuckin' going, alright? You can go with your friends and you can have fun and dance with them but I'm not going. Stop pushing me on this."

His voice comes out hard and unwavering, leaving no room for argument. Also, you can't believe he just called you pushy. Bakugou, who forced a confession out of you just because he wanted you to say it first. He underestimates your persistence though, because next thing he knows, you're leaning down like you're about to kiss him and his eyes are already half-lidded but instead you bite down harshly on his nose.

Bakugou yelps but that doesn't deter you. "Can you at least tell me why you don't want to go? Because you don't want to go to a lot of things with me but you always end up going anyway. Like the nail salon, or Bath and Body Works. Why's it different this time?"

His eyes narrow and he shifts beneath you, probably trying to escape your shit fuck ton of questions but you're caging him in. He stays quiet for a whole three minutes when he finally says, "I just don't want to go, fuck, can't you just let it go and compromise for fucking once?"

What. "What?"

“I’m just saying,” Bakugou sneers, propping his elbow up below his head, “you shouldn’t be forcing me to go. You said it yourself, ya know, it feels like I’m always doing what you want.”

You falter. "That's bullshit, Katsuki. You're being really mean right now."

It seems that you used the wrong choice of words because his face turns gloomy, and you can tell he’s biting the inside of cheek as hard as he can. He places his forearm over his eyes so he can physically block out your reaction when he practically spits, “Why don’t you go date golden boy Kirishima if you think I’m so mean, huh?”

Woah. That was a low fucking blow and he knows it. He regrets bringing up his best friend’s name the moment the words leave his mouth because the way you inhale sharply and get off of him fearing for his life. The hairs on his arms rise when you start speaking to him scoldingly, and he won't even deny that he deserves it.

“I cannot believe you’re still using that against me, ‘Suki, that was more than a year ago! And don’t give me shit about not knowing how to compromise because I always eat the food you make. Even when you make it spicy on purpose even though you know I can’t handle it. And you know what? I don’t particularly like going to the gym with you on the weekends, but I still always go! And maybe sometimes I wish we could have more than just study dates but I stay and read with you anyway. And I always, always, forgive you when you do stupid shit like forgetting our anniversary or- or when you make me cry."

Almost as if your body takes cue from your words, you can feel a familiar stinging sensation creep up behind your eyelids. It starts a chain reaction because somehow Bakugou barrels on. Even though his face blanches when he sees the water on your lash line, he can’t seem to stop his mouth from moving.

"Well, fuck, sorry I'm such a shitshow to handle, princess. You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. But if you’re so tired of me already, then why don't you just break up with me, huh?"

No longer was there a trace of affection or playfulness in the way he calls you ‘princess’. The word drips with condescension and malice and your heart cracks a bit at the way he speaks about himself. Bakugou's sitting on the bed now, looking up at you as you stand before him.

Yet, your gaze holds nothing but warmth and frustrated tears when you look at him. Because, much to your dismay, you also always know when there’s something up with Bakugou . He leans away for a moment when your hands come up to touch his head, but decides to let himself fall into your touch in the end.

Bakugou buries his face against your stomach, gripping onto the back of your shirt with crumpled fists. Gently, your hand cards through his messy hair, “Baby, I never said that. I never said you were hard to deal with. You’re a very easy person to deal with, and an even easier person to love. And I have never, ever, thought about leaving you. Okay? I’m sorry for making you think that."

He nods into you, the movement tickles your abdomen and he does it again and again until you start giggling and pushing his head away. Bakugou rests his chin against your navel, looking up at you with slightly glassy eyes. He knows he doesn’t deserve the kindness you’re laying onto him, doesn't deserve you in general, but he still reaches up to swipe a thumb under your eye.

“No, I was out of line. I shouldn't have said all that. I’m sorry, I was bein’ rude as shit.”

The truth is, Bakugou isn't really that easy to deal with. You can handle him just fine because you've had years of practice. To an untrained eye, maybe it'll look bad for him when he scoffs a fuck off everytime you ask to hold his hand. But you know he never means it because he always takes your hand anyway, intertwining his fingers with yours. And then he'll squeeze your hand three times; i love you, i love you, i love you.

So no, he isn't easy to deal with. His body language and words don't always correspond to what he's trying to convey but it's still plainly obvious that he quite stupidly adores you anyway. He'll yell at you for forgetting your wallet, he'll call you an idiot the whole day and then he'll pay for your lunch and walk you home the same day. If you get cold for forgetting a cardigan, he'll tease and taunt you for a whole five minutes maximum before giving you his own that he just somehow keeps forgetting to take out of his bag, as he says. He'll make a face like he just ate a lemon when he tries and fails to not make fun of you if you don’t score so well on a test, and then he’ll tutor you for hours on end until you can get it right.

It gets quite predictable.

He pulls you down then, letting your bodyweight sink onto his lap and presses a kiss against your lips in apology and you hate that it works. Hate that he can erase every mistake with a press of his lips to yours, because he never kisses you without meaning it. And you know he means to say sorry with the way his tongue slips into your mouth.

Unfortunately, the argument does not end.

He pulls away, breathing heavier than before. The bubble of calmness and comfort around you bursts explosively however when he mutters, “‘M still not going to the prom, though.”

It's not like you didn't see this coming. You knew that he didn't really care about prom, no matter how badly you wanted him to. You just thought that maybe he'd take you anyway. The thought of going without him makes your chest clench because you could have the time of your life with your girls but it won't feel the same without him next to you.

Maybe he's right. Maybe you do make him do things he doesn't really want to. But then again, you do the same for him. You're left confused and defeated when it's time for him to leave and he's still adamant on not going. On one hand, you don't want to force him to go. But on another, you really do wish he'd change his mind.

You're silent as you show him out, and he notices but he stays quiet too and in his head, he beats himself for being a coward. He hates himself for not being able to talk to you properly. He knows very well that if he just told you what's up with him then you'd understand, and you could still probably convince to go to the dance. But he doesn't speak up.

Right before he leaves, he leans down to kiss you goodnight but you turn away at the last moment so his lips meet your cheek instead. Slowly, you press a palm against his heart, pushing him away and pretending you can’t hear how it stutters at your denial.

"Hey, before you go, I'm sorry if I'm being pushy again but you-,” your voice trails off, and you sigh defeatedly, “you can't keep making me cry and just expect to kiss it better all the time, okay? And I know you don't mean to do it, but it still hurts, Bakugou. I'm tired of getting hurt all the time and I'm not forcing you to go, but I hope you know that it really fucking sucks that my own boyfriend won't go to the dance with me, and it sucks even more that he won't even tell me why."

Bakugou? What happened to Katsu or ‘Suki, he mourns internally. He keeps a blank face but it feels like the blood within his veins just got replaced with pure fucking ice as he lets your words sink in. He refuses to let his facade break but it feels like someone is grabbing him by the throat and he can’t seem to breathe right.

"If you keep making me feel like this, one day I'm not just gonna let you kiss it all better. 'Cause sooner or later, you're gonna run out of chances."

Bakugou stays unanswering, and you look at him pleadingly for him to just talk to you but he doesn't. It's not until you go to close your door that he finally speaks, voice soft but accusing, "You just said you've never thought of leaving me, and now just 'cause I'm not taking you to some stupid dance, you're taking it all back?"

If Bakugou had superpowers, pissing you off would definitely be one of them. You resist the urge to stomp your foot childishly, because you know that won't help to get your point across. Your teeth bite down on nothing as harshly as possible because you don't want to start arguing again, it won't solve anything. He knows that too, and even though your hands stay right by your side, he feels like he was just punched in the jaw when you meet his eyes and he finds that somehow, he managed to make you cry twice in one night.

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe this isn't just some stupid dance to me? I get it, okay, that it's not your scene or whatever, and it doesn't matter to you but it really matters to me," you tell him as placatingly as possible, and his eyes are as clouded as his judgement, "I've waited a long time for this, and I never thought I'd even be lucky enough to have someone who means so much to me to go with. And if you can't even see how important it is to me that I want you with me at this stupid dance, then you're the worst. The worst."

With that, you finally shut the door in his face. His muffled protests behind the slab of wood go ignored in favour of stomping back to your room. Bakugou's insufferable! He's stupid and stubborn and temperamental. He's a hothead that jumps headfirst into anything he does with everything he's got.

He's the worst. (he's the furthest thing from it)

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

Neither you nor Bakugou give in to the temptation of calling one another. When you see him in class, you don't look at him and you go straight home. The both of you being too stubborn to admit defeat by reaching out first. It hurts to admit though, that for once you wish he'd just call you. A mere three days of radio silence on both your ends doesn't do wonders for your relationship, it chips away at both of you until the hurt simmmers to a seemingly numb feeling in your hearts.

As you think of ways to spite him, your mind comes up with the idea of going with someone else. But you don't entertain that thought for longer than a second, because that would be cheating and you'd never stoop that low. He probably wouldn't even know if you did anyway.

The night before the prom, you sit on your bed forlornly, twirling the little charm bracelet that slings around your wrist. It's a cute thing that Bakugou gifted you a few months ago. It was a simple purple band with two star charms on its ends and a little saturn charm in the middle. He has a matching one in blue.

"It's beautiful, 'suki. Why saturn?" You had asked.

"Uh... I don't- I read somewhere that it kinda symbolises growth and commitments. And you know, that fits us." Katsuki answered, withholding the fact that he spent three hours reading multiple astrology sites about it even though he quite frankly thinks it's bullshit but didn't want to get the meaning wrong anyway.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause I wanna fucking commit to you and I'm gonna be everything you’ll ever need.”

The bracelet jingles lightly as you fidget with it. Your phone lays on your bed with no signs of him calling and a deep crushing sigh escapes you as you prepare yourself for another night of tossing and turning. The memory of what the bracelet meant lulls you to sleep and you're left wondering if he's still wearing it too, which makes you wonder even more if he's missing you as much as you're missing him or if he's missing you at all. It's hardly noticeable but you think your cheeks feel damp as your eyes fall close.

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

In his own room, Bakugou lets the dumbbell he's curling fall to the floor. He barely hears the resounding thud it makes or his mom yelling at him for dropping the weight like that. He flops onto his bed, arms spread and neck spotted with sweat. His mind swims with thoughts of you and he wishes it wasn't so hard for him to just fucking open up to you. His insides twist just thinking about the way he left things with you, it makes him feel stupid and he hates it.

It's not like he doesn't want to take you to the prom. If anything, he'd love to do that. He wants to show you off so bad. Have you all pretty, draped over his arm and looking gorgeous in whatever dress you wanted to wear. God does he want to, he wants everyone to see you with him and he'd bask in his smugness that no one else gets to have you like this but him. He'd relish in the absolute envy on anyone else's face as that saw you with him. Because everyone knows, including himself, that you're too good for him. And now he's gone and fucked it all up.

For all the confidence he exudes, Bakugou Katsuki is actually not someone who's void of insecurities. If anything, his confidence is just a front to his crackling interior. But not always, because sometimes he is quite the hot shit. Anyway.

Contrary to your belief, he doesn't want to go to the prom for your sake. He's heard the things people have said about you- or rather, he's heard what has been said about you in regards to your relationship with him. Just thinking about it makes him feel nauseous all over again. He wasn't supposed to hear it, he thinks.

He'd been walking past the girl's toilet whilst looking for you. It wasn't on him that girls talk so fuckin' loudly. Like c'mon, in his defence, if you're going to talk shit about someone, at least do it quietly so that the person aforementioned won't hear his own name like a siren beckoning him to eavesdrop. So really, it's not his fault for pressing his back against the wall to hear the rest. He can't put a name to the two voices (why would he be able to) but from what they're saying, they know him apparently.

..."... I bet he's forcing her. To date him, I mean."

"I don't know... they seem pretty lovey-dovey and all gross to me. If you ask me, she should leave now and find someone better."

"That's called conditioning. Or like, stockholm syndrome. I mean, let's be serious, who wants to willingly date Bakugou of all people. He's like if the word aggression was personified. He's mental, I swear."

They laugh, gaudy.

"I bet he's gonna show up to the dance with the poor girl, 'cause he's way too fucking clingy. Have you noticed that he's practically by her side almost 24/7. Hope they don't turn up together, like give that girl a break."

So. He wasn't supposed to hear that. He wasn't supposed to fucking hear that, and for a good fucking reason. At that moment, it felt like his heart was stuck in his throat while simultaneously, his stomach dropped to his ass. He doesn't cry. He's not that bothered by it. But it makes his head spin that people actually think of him like that.

By then, he wasn't thinking straight, because if he was, then he'd know not to make assumptions about how everyone felt about him based on two girls' conversation. Alas, he's not thinking straight, so, fuck it.

He doesn't know if you remember but he barely said anything when he walked you home.

It hurt him, but everything they said about him wasn't anything he hadn't heard before. It was the way they talked about you that got to him. How you were unhappy or being forced, they said. It's the way he's tried his hardest to pour his heart and soul into you and him and it's still seemingly not enough for people around him to think that you're both undeniably gone for each other.

It makes him upset, because he thinks he's been doing a pretty good job at showing you just how much you mean to him, but apparently fuckin' not. He's obviously not doing something right. Which makes him feel frustrated because he can't figure it out. He tells you he loves you plenty. Okay, maybe not plenty but he does say it. He says it and he knows you know that he’s trying to show it in his own words. He always keeps a jacket for you, he’s never let you fail a test since you got together and he always always makes you extra food that he makes for himself. Maybe he’s done something wrong along the way.

It's not like he unintentionally made the food spicy for you. Sometimes it just slips his mind that your portion can't be the same level of spicy as his is. And he knows how sad you get when you fail an exam, which is why he forgoes normal dates to sit and study with you. Of course he'd much rather do something like hiking or fucking, he doesn't know, laser tag with you, but he'd always put your education first. He knows how much it means to you after all.

An ugly feeling nags at him. It makes him want to pull away from you, show some distance so people would stop talking for a bit. But another part of him wants to run to your house right now and tell you I'm sorry. please don't leave. I can do better. Neither of those feelings actually make him do anything, though, because he's stubborn and refuses to cave.

Ugh. He thinks, before promptly passing out on his bed.

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

The evening of the prom arrives. You're standing in front of your mirror, all dressed up and pretty. Your dress accentuates your curves amazingly and you've adorned your cheeks with small star-shaped rhinestones and sprayed a generous amount of body glitter all over yourself. The shimmer makes itself known in every crevice of your room but it doesn't bother you right now.

An imaginary Bakugou makes himself comfortable on your bed. He's eyeing you up and down and groaning appreciatively at the sight he's been blessed with. Fuckin' gorgeous, he says, just like you know he would if he were actually here. You're wearing his colours after all.

Your hands smooth down your dress incessantly for the nth time that night, as if getting rid of the imperceptible wrinkles on your dress would get rid of the thoughts in your head as well. It doesn't, but it makes you feel calmer. Maybe some would call it dramatic, or stupid, but you don't even really feel like going without him.

You don't want to miss out on your prom, and you still want to dance with your friends and eat cheap shitty food though. So maybe your hair droops a little, akin to your mood, but you leave your house shining and smiling anyway.

And when you get there, things start looking up. Whoever's in charge of the music has been doing an amazing job of not playing Closer by the Chainsmokers on repeat yet so that's win in your book. In fact, they're not playing any songs that would give the average retail worker war flashbacks, which means they're doing a phenomenal job.

The hall is mostly full by the time you and your friends find a table near the back. There's a line at the punch table and you can already tell that it's probably spiked with something judging by the students practically dry-humping one another on the dancefloor, much to one of the school's chaperone's dismay.

The first hour passes by without a hitch. The buffet table is lined with cheap pizzas, stale fries and other questionable foods like jello cups that you're not sure is even made with real jelly. But your friends eat it anyway and you do too because food poisoning's all part of the party package.

At the back of the hall, there's a photo booth with props and signs for everyone to take. Your friends and yourself take ungodly amounts of pictures at the booth, laughing loudly without a care in the fucking world. You don't let yourself think about how Bakugou would scoff at the choice of props, you refuse to let yourself think about how he'd pose after choosing something equally stupid and you absolutely do not let yourself think about how much brighter you'd be smiling if he were here with you. You don't.

The sound system blares songs from bands you're somewhat familiar with, the bass of the songs echo and reverberate throughout the dancehall. It amplifies the adrenaline running through your veins as you jump around with the rest of the people in the hall. It feels silly and unnatural but you're giggling and swaying and it isn't so bad when you've got your girls right next to you doing the same thing.

It's easy to forget about all the aches when you let yourself get lost in the crowd. You're pushed into the middle of the dancefloor that's definitely filled with people who don't go to your school.

A song that you vaguely recognise by The Weeknd plays over the speakers and it's so fast paced that your heart thumps to the bass of the song. The tremors echo through the hall, shaking the floor and it becomes so easy to forget why you were upset in the first place.

The song ends and cheers from half-drunk high schoolers fills the temporary silence that follows. The DJ announces that he's about to slow things down a little for a kick of romance. He stretches out the word romance so it sounds more like roooowmaynceee and when the music fades into something mellower, it becomes even easier to remember.

It becomes increasingly harder to ignore the pitiful glances your friends send your way as they're whisked away by their own dates. Humiliation and longing pools in your belly as you watch your friends get their waists held and their bodies swayed and it fucking sucks. Even though you wave dismissively at them, it does look quite pathetic when you slowly move to stand against the wall by yourself.

Your eyes sweep over the couples dancing, and you pray that no one asks you to dance while you're being a wallflower. You don't think you'd want to dance with anyone but him anyway. Distantly, your mind wanders to Bakugou, and you're left thinking about what he must be doing at this hour. Maybe he's studying, or watching a movie, or cooking something inedible like always. Maybe he's already asleep. Maybe he's missing you and he's on his way over here right now.

Nobody is crueler to you than yourself, you think, as you let your mind wander dangerously into that false pretence of hope that he might change his mind about showing up.

There's a phantom feeling that glides over your skin as you watch your friends dance, and you wrap your hands around your elbows to soothe it. The sweat from your earlier dancing cools off as the air in the hall gets cooler and you're not sure if it's the crisp, cold air, or the fact that you're painfully aware of Katsuki's absence that makes your throat sting each time you inhale.

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

In the end, Katsuki's mother is the one who quite literally knocks some sense into him. Mitsuki Bakugou is not a force to be reckoned with, ever, and as tough and cool Katsuki makes himself seem, he'll always be a little bit intimidated by his mom. It's why he tries to seem as nonchalant as possible as he sits on his couch while staring unblinkingly at the TV.

Mitsuki pops her head into the living room. Fuck, he didn't think she'd be home so soon.

"Katsuki? What the hell are you still doing here?"

"You going crazy, hag? It's a Friday night, am I not allowed to take a fuckin' break or what?" He swallows.

"Language, asshat. And I just stopped by Inko's, brat, I know what day it is today," she sighs annoyedly before plopping down next to him, "She tried to show me Every. Single. Photo of Izuku in his tux. I had to tell her I left the stove on to get out of there. So quit the bullshit. Why are you still here?"

Katsuki has a pillow in his lap and he squeezes it until his knuckles turn pale so his voice won't waver.

"She didn't want me to take her," he lies, hoping his mom will take the bait.

Mitsuki shoves her son's head to the side good-naturedly, "I thought I told you to quit the bullshit, brat. That girl adores the hell out of you for some fucking reason, so don't try to lie to me."

It's that one goddamn line that has him snapping at her. It's her words and the stupid girls in the stupid fucking toilet and it's an amalgamation of everything that has him wanting to tear his fucking hair out that makes him lose it.

"Yeah, okay, fuck you too mom. You're right, I don't fucking know why someone like her wants to be with someone as fucked up and angry and- and mean and aggressive as I am too, alright? Everyone at school already fucking wonders why she even wants me so I didn't take her to this stupid fucking prom 'cus maybe they'll get off my back about fucking forcing her to be with me. I'm not in the goddamn mood to be hearing about this shit so fuck off. I wish I knew what the fuck she sees in me that's so good but I don't so just stop this fucked up interrogation, God."

He's not even looking at the TV anymore. He spits out his outburst while staring straight at his hands fisted in the poor pillow. It'll never uncrease now. His jaw is clenched so tightly he's scared his teeth might just shatter in his mouth. He doesn't want to look at his mom right now, too afraid to see her pitiful gaze directed at him. Doesn't want to hear her say you're right Katsuki, I don't know what she sees in you either.

Katsuki braces himself for an impact, knowing he's probably about to get smacked for talking to her like that. He doesn't expect the hand that gently lands atop his head, and he doesn't expect the hand that's curling behind his ears to turn his head towards her. Mitsuki looks at her son, making sure he really looks at her this time.

"Katsuki." She says, as gentle as the first time she held him in her arms. It doesn't matter how many years have passed, he looks just as small to her right now, and just like the day he was born, she will wrap him up and make sure he knows how loved he is.

"Katsuki, listen. I'm sorry for saying that," Mitsuki exhales, "It was a joke, but it was insensitive and I'm sorry. Every other time I said something like that about you wasn't true either. You're a good son and a good student and a good person. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, or says about you because the people who truly care about you know that you're a good fucking person, Katsuki."

Katsuki can barely hold eye contact with her. As embarrassing as it is, his vision blurs over and he will never acknowledge the way his voice breaks. "Mom," he shudders, "I'm always trying so fucking hard. I want to be good, please."

A noise that sounds like a choked back sob escapes him unwillingly. Mitsuki pulls his face into her shoulder and smiles when he barely resists. He fits just like he did before he thought hugging her wasn't cool anymore.

"You are good. You are so good, Katsuki." she whispers, "You always help to cook, and you keep the house clean and your grades up. You don't speak politely but you are honest and you are just like me. You use your hands, actions, to communicate rather than words. But you know, Katsuki, sometimes the people we love need to hear it from us too, okay? We'll both work on that."

A miniscule nod. "I'll start right now, Katsuki. You may be a brat sometimes, but you are my son. My sun. You are good, and kind and for everything you do not love about yourself, I love it tenfold."

He absolutely does not break at that. Katsuki bites back a whine, and exhales shakily again, soaking in her words like a sponge because he knows these moments for them come few and far in between. He doesn't mind. He thinks it's special that way, cherishing it whenever it does happen even more.

Mitsuki cards her hands through his hair, "You're a winner, Katsuki, that's why you have your name. Don't let whatever happened get to you like this. If you don't go to that stupid prom, you'll be making the biggest mistake of your life. Because I love you very much, and it might even be possible that that girl of yours loves you just as much, or maybe even a smidge more. Get your ass changed, and talk to her, alright? I know it's scary, letting someone in, but you care about her and you need to do this."

Katsuki pulls away from her, wiping his face roughly with his arms. He sniffles harshly, trying to erase all traces of the vulnerability he just showed. He bites his lip hard enough to almost draw blood. He wants to say he loves her back but the words fail him. Not yet, he thinks.

"I don't know what colour her dress is." He says instead.

"Wear your red suit. Don't ask questions, go get ready. You're already late, I'll call a cab for you."

Katsuki nods, getting up to walk to his room. He's halfway up the stairs when he pauses for a second. "Thanks mom. Love you."

Mitsuki waves her hand dismissively in his direction.

Katsuki stands in front of his mirror, inspecting everything he sees as if that'll change the way he feels about himself. His mom talking to him helped a lot, but he's still finding it hard to breathe and it's not just because his collar is choking him a bit. He fiddles with his bracelet. He tries to ground himself as he thinks about whether he should put on a different suit.

He really wishes he listened to what you were saying when you were talking about your dress. What if he shows up and his suit clashes with your dress? That would just make your night worse.

It's ridiculous. He knows he's just procrastinating. Because thinking about suit colours is easier than thinking about the crippling insecurity that still sits heavily on his shoulders, shackling him with the sheer weight of it all. He'd rather think about the colour of your dress than the fact that he feels like he can't give you what you deserve in a boyfriend.

His reflection frowns back at him.

The words you said play in his head like a broken record. You are the worst, you told him. He thinks of all the things he never really says to you because for some reason his emotionally constipated self just can't bring himself to say them. (Because he says I love you, but he means he hopes you never trip on your shoelaces if they're untied, that your hair never tangles in the wind, that if your drink spills not a drop of it would touch you, that your hands are always warm, that you'd never forget to bring your headphones before you leave the house and that you're always safe whenever he's not with you. Because he says I love you, but he means he hopes that if the sky were to drizzle, the raindrops themselves would feel privileged just to be able to fall upon your skin. Because he says I love you but he means he hopes you know he wants to say it right to your face, and into your mouth and kiss the words and every version of it's meaning into the space where your shoulder meets your neck every morning when he wakes up and every night before he lets himself succumb to slumber. He says I love you, but he means more than what those words convey. He says I love you, but he means stay warm, stay safe. He says I love you but he means my heart belongs more to you than me. He says I love you but he means he'll never want anything else for as long as he lives if it meant you'd always stay with him. He says I love you but he means come home to me and keep coming home to me, please.)

Oh.

If he could kick himself for being so stupid, he would. But he can't so he'll let you do it for him instead. I am not a coward, he tells himself as his unsteady hands try to make his hair look less of a mess. It doesn't work so he leaves it be and dashes out the door with an undone tie around his neck and he hastily side-hugs his mom- dodging her attempts to groom him- before throwing himself into the cab.

He doesn't make it a habit to show up late, but hopefully this time you'll forgive him. This time showing up late is better than not at all.

He's never made it a habit to show up late but maybe this time showing up late is better than not showing up at all. He drums his fingers nervously on his thigh throughout the entire ride. He hopes to God you're having fun. He hopes you know he's on the way. He hopes, and hopes and prays that he hasn't lost his chance.

When he arrives, he doesn't even spare a glance for his own friends, too preoccupied with finding you. The hall isn't very big but the space is large enough that he has to walk around a few times just to spot you.

The minute he sees you leaning against the wall, he wishes desperately he could go back in time. He'd do fucking anything to erase that faraway look in your eyes. He can see the way you're yearning to be one of the couples on the dancefloor and he wants to unwrap your hands around yourself and replace it with his own.

Katsuki breathes in deep and makes his way towards you cus damn it, if you wanted a dance, he'll give you a fucking dance alright.

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

The last slow song finally slowly tunes out, transitioning into a more upbeat one. The couples finally disentangle themselves from one another and you're just about to step back onto the dancefloor when a very familiar pair of arms snake around your waist.

You didn't even see him come in. It doesn't matter how he apparated here, because the only thing that matters right now is the fact that he showed up and the way his arms fit snugly around your hips. A breathless sound of disbelief escapes your lips as he pulls you into him when you turn around to face him.

If he's surprised by the lack of anger or disappointment on your face, he doesn't show it. All he knows is the feeling of your arms coming up to rest up on his shoulders. With the way you're beaming up at him, anyone would think that the only thing he did was show up almost two hours late. He knows better though, he knows he fucked up when all you wanted was for him to bring you to this stupid dance. And on God, would he try his hardest to make it up to you.

Katsuki leans into you, burying his nose into your hair that's all pinned up and pretty. He's getting glitter all over his face and suit and he doesn't care at all.

"I'm sorry," he exhales, letting the apology spill out of him, "'M so fuckin' sorry, princess."

It's so quiet, you almost think he never said it at all. In the background, you can just barely register the lyrics of Paramore's Still Into You that's currently playing. A litany of 'thank yous' is mentally conveyed to the DJ.

"And what are you sorry for?"

Katsuki clenches his jaw, his eyes darting away from yours like he's struggling not to look away. He groans before telling you, "There’s been rumours going on, people talking shit like they know us. Saying fuck all, running their fuckin’ mouths about how you could do better than me. And it’s stupid that I believed them for even a millisecond, I know. Then I realised that if I let you show up here alone then i’d just be proving those fuckers right. So, you win, princess. I took you to this stupid prom. I showed up, ‘m here right now."

Even though it's been said before, the lack of confidence Katsuki has in himself is absolutely baffling. It's like he can admit he has flaws and weaknesses and he'll know exactly what the problem is but he won't fucking talk to you for some reason you can't figure out.

Nvermind, you figured it out.

He's scared. Bakugou Katsuki is fearless. He's not afraid of anything, because he knows everything he's afraid of can be defeated one way or another. His fear of failure is conquered with his efforts in order to secure success. His fear of inferiority to anyone that's a threat towards him can be overtaken by brandishing his own achievements like a sword, or like armour. But when you come along, suddenly it becomes: Bakugou Katsuki was fearless.

The only thing he's scared of is losing you. That’s something that he alone can’t control, because you could very well decide to leave him if you ever felt like it. He realises that if he didn't show up tonight, the chances of that happening would be much much higher, and then if he lost you, he'd be a loser. Bakugou Katsuki is not a loser.

Your chest tightens at the thought that he actually believed that you’d leave him for someone better, as if someone like that even existed. One of your hands reaches up to curl around his neck, forcing him to look at you. You shake your head firmly when he tries leaning away.

You’re glad your voice remains steady when you say, "You should've talked to me. ‘Suki, I can’t believe you almost blew me off because of some shit some people we don’t even know thought about us. They don’t know anything about us, alright? They don’t fucking know how good I have it with you and you shouldn't keep all that to yourself next time, okay?”

His grip tightens, “You should’ve heard them though. Girls are fuckin’ ruthless. Talking about how easily you could just fuck off and get with someone better. Saying I... I'm forcing you to be with me. Fuck, it made me feel like shit ‘cause I knew there was some truth in what they said. I know I can stand to be nicer to you.”

Your hands find their way to his undone tie and you tug, “Katsuki, I don’t care about what they said. You hear me?”

Once he nods, you go on, "I couldn't do any better than you, because you're already the best. You said it yourself. If you think I deserve better, then be better, 'cause I don't want anyone but you. So stop trying to push me away. Whoever started all this can fucking eat our asses 'cause clearly they don't need their mouths if all they're gonna do is talk shit."

"Holy fuck, you really need to stop spending so much time with me." Katsuki snorts.

With a laugh, he twirls you around two times all while complaining that you're starting to sound exactly like him. But you’re not so sure he really minds so much judging by the way he grins wickedly at you. When his arms go back to their rightful place, you rest your forehead against his chest, "Also, let me? 'Suki, I did show up here alone. Which means that technically, you didn't really take me here, you know? 'Cause I had to come here all by myself."

Katsuki huffs and puffs, and leans back far enough to flick your forehead softly. He sways you slowly to the music, despite how fast the music is, "What matters is that I'm here. I’m fuckin' sorry for making you show up here all alone. Look, I’m even dancing with ya, ain’t that enough?”

Am I enough?

Katsuki says all that like he's exasperated with you but really he's posing it as a question. He's asking, and looking for a chance to redeem himself. Like always, you rest even more of your weight against him, knowing you can let yourself go boneless against him and he'll hold you all the same. He's all strong and soft and sturdy and you can hear his heartbeat thundering beneath his clothes and you make sure he can hear you when you say, "You've always been more than enough."

You can feel the way any lingering tension escapes him when you tell him that. He tells you softly, promises you that he'll start opening up more to you, and he kisses you on the cheek to really seal it in. The song echoes throughout the room, thrumming in your veins and making you feel weightless.

Some things just, some things just make sense and one of those is you and I.

His eyes don't waver as he really takes you in, savouring the image of how good you look. He sears the image of you into his brain and he hopes you know how serious he means when he rasps, "Fuck, ya look gorgeous by the way. Absolutely fucking stunnin' and I really fuckin' wish no one else but me could look at ya." His hands run down your sides slowly and squeeze at your hips, eliciting goosebumps all over your skin.

Heat quickly floods your cheeks and pools in your tummy, and his hands tighten his hold on you. You grin at him, "Well, ignoring your tie, I think you look very handsome as well. I'm surprised our colours didn't clash."

Katsuki barks a laugh at that. If only you knew.

It's quite the scene to see you and him swaying gently to such a hyped up tune. Everyone mostly crowds up around the front of the hall. But you and Katsuki hang back from the big mass of sweaty bodies, choosing to stand nearer to the opposite end of the room. If your friends look at you weird, you don't take notice. It's as if you're in your own little world; just you and him.

The second chorus sounds and Katsuki dips you as low as he can get before you yell at him. When you come back up, he's looking at you all starry eyed, staring directly at your lips. He can't stop himself, he cuts you off while you're singing along to kiss you right then. He swallows the little 'mmphrh!' that comes out of your throat greedily, sliding one of his hands up your back all the way to the cuff of your neck to press you even closer into him.

"Fuckin' missed you and your pretty fucking mouth, baby." he sighs breathlessly into you.

It's barely a chaste kiss, looking quite messy for a high school prom. Thankfully no staff member comes in between you and him, so he pulls away slowly before leaning back in. He kisses you once, twice and then some more and even a fifth and sixth time, like he's making up for all the days he didn't.

After he's satisfied with all the kisses he's peppered on your face, he leans away, smiling sillily. "She's right, you know?"

Your eyebrows furrow but your lips quirk up anyway, "What are you talking about?"

Katsuki spins you slowly, "The singer. She's right," and leads you back into him before singing monotonously, "After all this time, I'm still into you."

"You are such a loser, that was so cringe. Oh my god, what the fuck," you laugh, but your heart squeezes in affection.

Katsuki doesn't know if it's the haphazardly hung disco ball and the flashing lights that makes your eyes shine and sparkle or if it's just you, but he can't tear his eyes away from you. You're looking at him like he split the oceans for you, and he thanks every star in the sky that you're letting him hold you this close again.

If he knew how unreal you’d look when you’re dancing in his arms, he never would’ve ditched this thing. What a shame, he thinks, that he missed out on two whole hours that could have been spent with you looking like this. Maybe it’s the air in the hall but he feels practically giddy at the sight of you enjoying yourself, and it makes his heart fucking leap because it’s him that’s making you smile like that.

The sides of his mouth hurt from how much they've been stretched tonight, but he can't keep the smile off his face when you say, "You're right though. She is right."

He hums along to the tune, because denies it as he may, he absolutely loves this song just as much as you do.

Your eyes drink up the sight of Katsuki dressed up so… in character. His hair is as messy as ever, his tie hangs loose and undone around his neck and you’re sure his suit jacket has seen better days but he looks fucking ethereal to you. He’s all lethal grins and loud laughter and his cologne smells as spicy and warm as it always does and you realise again just how in love you are with him.

Katsuki’s eyes are gleaming, and maybe it’s just a trick in the light but you’re reminded of just how lucky you are to have him like this. Because maybe he is brash and harsh when he talks to you, but he’s never treated you like you’re anything but the most important thing in his life. To him, you’re his favourite person in the whole world, and he doesn’t need to say it out loud because he knows you know it too.

So maybe Katsuki isn't easy to read, or deal with. That doesn't mean he's not easy to love. Because loving him was like breathing— instinctual and  inevitable. You loved him the way the moon loved the ocean, and the way the sun loved the stars. Loving him was the easiest thing you've ever done in your life, and you knew that wasn’t ever going to change.

And baby even on our worst nights, I'm into you. Let 'em wonder how we got this far, 'cause I don't really need to wonder at all. Yeah, after all this time, I'm still into you

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

(extra)

Later, when the two of you have sufficiently made out against the wall enough for the chaperones to flick water at Katsuki so he'll finally pull away, you'll find his hand and pull him along to the rest of your friends.

Kirishima will see you two and laugh, telling Katsuki he's glad he pulled his head out of his ass. Katsuki will hiss, "Kay why ess..." and drag you to the photo booth. You won't tell him, but you're secretly glad that you were right. He does scoff at the assortment of props but he picks up a stupid styrofoam emoji of a bomb.

He pushes you into the booth and sets the timer for the picture. Right as it's about to go off, he looks at you very seriously as he says, "You put the boom-boom into my heart," before absolutely smashing the emoji against your cheek.

"KATSU I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU-"

The photos come out blurry and you're wide-mouthed and laughing in all of them. He's looking at you like you're the only thing that exists. There’s barely any inches between you and him like you’re the sun and he’s every planet that orbits your celestial body.

Katsuki walks you home afterwards, laughing and stealing your body heat as he delivers you to your doorstep. When you kiss him goodnight, he thinks he must have known you in every life before this one for him to have the capacity to love you as much as he does. He keeps his copy of the photo in his wallet, signing the back with 'still into you xx'.

Not that he needs the reminder.

[ultimate-shipper-trash-blog]

Here's a snippet of my new fic! It'll either be a 5+1 or something insane we'll see 🤗

----

He's had enough of this guy. He knew karaoke Fridays were a bad idea but did anyone listen to him? No. He's the boss. He runs this place. Why did he have to hire all his friends?

"I WANNA DANCE WITH SOMEBODY!"

The drunk on the stage croons.

"I WANNA FEEL THE HEAT WITH SOMEBODY- LIKE YOU DID WITH MY BEST FRIEND SHARON FUCK YOU SHARON-"

"Okaaaay that's enough man," Eddie hops on the stage. "C'mon dude sit down or I'm gonna ask you to leave."

"Oh yeah?" The bastard spits at him. Literal spit. On his face.

"That's it! You're outta here!"

"No!" He's still trying to sing while the bouncers grab him. "I WANNA FEEL THE HEAAAAAAT NO LET GO OF ME! I DESERVE TO EXPRESS MY FEELINGS!"

Jesus christ he's so glad he has Hopper on speed dial. He calls the station up and is only kind of thrown off when a new voice picks up.

"Sheriff's office. Max speaking."

"Max? Where's Hop he always answers?"

"Retired. Last day was yesterday. What do you want."

"Um well I need someone down here to get this drunk out of my bar-"

"K got it." Dial tone.

"She just hung up on me!"

"Girlsull do that to ya" the drunk slurs. Pinned down my security.

"Shut it Leonard!"

---

When will this guy shut up. He's still singing that stupid song.

Eddie's behind the bar with his fingers in his ears. Most of the customers headed out and it wasn't even 11 yet.

"You'll hurt your ears doing that," a voice beside him pipes up.

Eddie spins around and is face to face with the hottest man he's seen around these parts. In a cops uniform. Fuck.

"So what's the issue?" Officer Mchottie says.

Eddie just points to Leanoard. Jeff is sitting on top of him.

"I never would've guessed," he smirks. Oh my god his stupid face. He needs to touch it.

"Good luck officer!" Leonard shouts half asleep.

Eddie hold up the soda water spray nozzle and aims it at Leonard. "Don't say I didn't warn you"

"Alright calm down. I'll get him out." He puts a hand on Eddie's his skin burns where it touches. "No need for soda induced violence." He's looking softly at Eddie.

"Right. Right. Thanks officer..."

"Harrington." He holds out a hand for Eddie to shake. "Steve Harrington."

"Well officer Stevie, Eddie Munson pleasure is all mine."

"I'm sure it is." He gets Leonard off the ground and hauls him out the door. "This better not become a reoccurring thing Munson!" He shouts out.

"Of course not officer!" Eddie's grin is wicked.

It absolutely will be.

----

Thanks to @pomegranatetimetravel for pushing me to write this :)

Let me know your thoughts! If I should continue etc. I love to read comments :)

Check out my other fic Hold the Line it's completed and about time travel it's pinned on my page

[penguins-army]

NECTAR (+18)

WARNINGS ⚠️: strong language, degradation, dom male/sub female, slight abuse, explicit scenes(established relationship)

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

"Are you ready, babe?" His deep voice was coming from the living room.

"Yeah, just give me a second." I was putting my new earrings YangYang gave me for my birthday last year. The outfit was a simple black dress, but with black transparent gloves and tights with floral designs, it makes it more elegant and classy. Lastly, I sprayed my favourite perfume and stopped the music blasting from the speaker. I headed to the living room where YangYang was playing GTA while fully dressed in a black suit. He was so focused on the game that he didn't even look at me.

"YangYang, let's go." I was putting my coat on and checking my high ponytail for the last time. Tonight is an important event as I have a special dinner with one of my clients. If I make this deal, the promotion will soon be mine. YangYang quickly turned off the game controller and got dressed.

We were in the taxi when I felt his hand on my left thigh. My trembling immediately stopped. A bad habit when my anxiety hits in.

"You will do amazing. They chose the right person to do the deal!" His cute smile made me ease my mind for a bit.

The dinner was going rather smooth. Persuading the client Mr. Lee, a.k.a, a 50 year old CEO of the biggest media company, to buy our newest TV show definitely was a challenge, and on top of that, to impress his rich ass son was almost impossible.

But as the night was going on and laughs were exchanged, I felt more and more confident with the upcoming deal. 

My boyfriend excused himself for a bit as he headed to for a cigarette.

"I will go to the bar. I am feeling a bit extra. Maybe we should celebrate the upcoming show of the year!" Mr. Lee shook my hand and went to the bar to buy the most expensive champagne.

"Yes, of course!" I wanted to scream inside from happiness. A huge smile was displayed on my face.

"Congrats, Mrs. Liu, it will be a pleasure to work with a great talent as you!" Mr. Lee's son Ten bowed to me as I felt my cheeks turn red. Usually, I am not used to compliments relating my work, so I still feel awkward when I receive them.

"Thank you, I promise we will do our best!"

I took a sip of my rose when his next remark made me almost choke on my wine.

"It must be hard for your husband to have such a beautiful wife and only keep you to himself."

"I-I..." Of course, I was used to comments like that all the time. Men from my company are always trying to sleep with me regarding if I am taken or not, but this was even worse. Trying to get out of this situation, I simply chose the wrong path when saying.

"He is not my husband yet, we are dating for a while now." Mentally, I slapped myself for the dumbest reply I ever did in my life. How do I politely reject a guy when he is literally going to be my boss.

"Interesting." A glimpse of a smirk appeared on his face for a second. And I immediately regretted my words even more. "Well, he better think fast cause someone may steal you from him." Before even opening my mouth, I heard footsteps coming from behind me and then his sharp voice. 

"Do not worry about that, Mr. Ten, I have no intention of keeping her waiting. As of now, I think the lady needs to go home." I felt his hand on my shoulder indicating for me to stand up. YangYang was already picking up our coats and helping me put mine on.

"But, but babe, we were just about to celebrate, and Mr. Lee bought a -" my protests were shut down with a simple glare of his.

"Mr. Liu, won't you stay for a bit longer? We were just getting to know each other." Ten was not giving up, but YangYang was not having it.

"Maybe next time. Goodnight." My boyfriend's hand was on my waist, keeping me distant from the other gentleman and at the same time making me submit to him. I barely said my goodbyes when YangYang called taxi, and we drove back to my apartment. To say I was pissed was not even close to what I was feeling inside. The ride back was silent, and the tension could be cut with a knife.

When I unlocked the door, I quickly rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door. I heard YangYang's voice.

"Oh, you are angry now! Are you fucking kidding me?!" He was tapping angrily on the door but I had no intention of opening him.

"Get lost, YangYang. " I was taking off my earrings. Too tired, I didn't even have the power to fight. Although the burning sensation in my chest was telling me otherwise.

"So what now I am the bad guy, but you flirting with another man is totally normal, yeah?" He was trying to open the door, but I had locked it.

"Oh my god, when exactly was I flirting? Sorry that I am just trying to be modest and actually politely reject the guy instead of acting like a total dick and probably ruining my chances of a deal." At this point, I stopped what I was doing.

"Oh, was that it, sorry, but it didn't seem like that, what is seemed like it was that you were ready to make him a different type of deal." And this was it. My rage finally exploded. "Open the fucking door goddamn it." He was knocking the shit out of the door.

"YOU KNOW WHAT, FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! YOU CAN SHOVE YOUR DICK IN YOUR ASS!" I was screaming with full range.

"I swear to God, open the fucking door or I am gonna-" His voice was so low it was intimidating.

"Or what? You are gonna act like the total obsessive psychopath you are, and you are gonna break it! Go on brea-" I shrieked, the door swung wide open, and YangYang came inside the bathroom. His eyes were covered from his fringe, but I already knew they were pitch black. My heart was racing like crazy with each step he was taking closer to me. I was stepping back when I finally hit the sink.

"Why are you not screaming now, huh?" The words were stuck in my throat. I felt so little next to him. "C'mon kitten, I thought you wanted to continue with your silly threats." His smooth malicious voice was sending shivers down my spine. His breath was near my left ear, and I felt my back arch a bit. 

"I-I..." My throat was suddenly so dry. Hot and bothered, I couldn't make a simple sentence. I felt his smirk on my face, still not daring to look at him. Suddenly, he grabbed me for the back of my neck and made our eyes lock into each other.

I was heavy breathing, the tiny strips of my dress slowly fell off my shoulders.

"You were so brave seconds ago. Why are you so scared now, hmm?" His grip was getting harsher and harsher, and the tears started to fall on my face.

"Bite me." Was all I could say. I still wanted to stand my ground and show him that I definitely didn't approve his act of jealousy, but the way he was looking at me made me weak in the knees. His laugh made him even sexier. For a second, he let me go and looked away before a sudden slap stroked me. A short moan escaped my lips, and I quickly grabbed my cheek.

"Oh, shhh, we both know you can take much worse than that, don't you kitten?" His hands were now on the sink, making me stand small between his bigger frame.

Ashamed and extremely aroused, I felt the urge to beg for mercy.

"I asked you a question, princess. Answer me."

"Yes." My voice sounded so small and out of character. The iron lady and businesswoman were long gone.

"'Yes', what kitten?" YangYang was getting impatient with my brattiness.

"Yes, Mr. Liu."

His long fingers reached for my chin and lifted my face. The desire was devouring him as much as mine did. We wanted each other so bad it hurts.

"Did I tell you how sexy you look tonight. No wonder other men were trying to slide in, baby. You left them no choice." My tiny moans were getting louder and louder. I loved it when he praised me. "It wasn't even that prick Ten, the waiter stared at you all night, the host eye fucked you when we entered, damn it even the old fuck Mr. Lee was looking at places he shouldn't be staring at. How do you think that made me feel, huh?" His whispers were teasing my ears while his long fingers were caressing my body slowly.

"I am sorry." Was all I could say at this point.

"You are gonna apologise properly, baby." My eyes begged for mercy, but YangYang picked me up in bridal style and took me into the bedroom. He put me on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, patiently waiting. "C'mon, be a good girl and bend on daddy's lap." I tiny sqeak escaped my lips.

"The longer I wait, the more you make it hard on yourself, baby. So don't make me repeat myself." I was shaking my head at this point.

"No, it's not fair. You are the one who ruined my business night,  why should I be pushed for that?" My voice sounded so childish it was embarrassing how this man was affecting me. He laughed at my statement, and without second thoughts, he grabbed me quickly and bent me over his knees.

"You have an attitude tonight, kitten. I can't wait to break it." Slow touches of his fingers moved from my thighs to my lower butt. I could feel my arousal dripping from my thong. The embarrassment enhanced when I heard his short cheeky laugh.

"I barely touched you, yet you are already soaking. " At this point I just wanted the punishment to be over so he can finally fuck me. I mumbled a short 'please' but he acted like he didn't hear it.

"What was that? You need to be louder, kitten. I can't hear you."

"Please."

"Hmm, please, what baby?" He was enjoying this game so much. But I couldn't take it any longer my tears were falling on his suit.

"Please, please, just fuck me already. I beg of you. " His wicked laugh echoed through the bedroom. Then all of a sudden a hard slap stroke my ass. My breath caught up in my throat. I knew I had to count but it seemed impossible. 

"I can continue forever if you don't count." Then another slap striked me.

"One."

"Good girl." My underwear was definitely ruined at this point.

"Two. Three. Four. Five." With each slap, I could feel his boner growing harder and harder, and all I wanted was to feel him deep inside of me.

"Six. Seven. Eighth. Nine..Te"

"You better not finish that last counting cause I might get mad again." I shut my mouth as he sat me on his lap. Both of us were heavy breathing, and the windows were getting foggy. My hands were on his chest, trying to find my balance. Without realising, I was slowly dry humping him. His deep moans were indicating that the hunter would soon kill its prey if I didn't stop with the teasing, but now it was my time to put a little gasoline in the fire. I was getting faster and faster when he finally snapped. YangYang grabbed me for the neck and pinched me below him on the bed. His hands quickly tore apart my favourite  stockings, and before I could even protest, he snapped my thong with one hand.

"Don't worry, I will buy you as many as you want."

The unzipping of his pants made me moan in excitement. His dick was made for me. With a hard thrust, he entered inside of me, making me gasp.

"Next time when you decide to be a brat, remember this particular night." He was rough and faster than usual.

"Yes, master." I was for sure seeing stars at this point. Euphoria was taking over my body.

"Maybe I should also mark you, then no one will dare to flirt with you."

Seeing an opportunity for a teasing, I simply tool it. "Is that a proposal, Mr. Liu?" A smirk was written on my face.

"Oh, kitten, I will give you a proper proposal, but now what I want to do is different." The sudden words made my blood rush. "I want to mark you so bad to feel you up, princess. To finally claim what is mine." The moans were becoming louder and louder. And by now, the neighbours definitely knew YangYang's full name. "I know you want it as well. You want me to breed you like an animal. To cum so deep inside you there is no other way you won't be pregnant. You want that don't you baby?"

I was a crying mess, the words were coming out of my mouth without second thoughts.

"Yes, please YangYang!" 

"I want you so bad!" His thrusts were do deep l was feeling my walls clench around him, indicating I was close.

"Please daddy, cum in me."

"Fuck.."

Then, both of us had our orgasms. The sensation of him deep inside me was amazing. We have talked about this before, of course. We always wanted kids but I didn't know that the feeling of him cumming inside of me would be so addicting.

After the intense session, we took a hot bath. He was massaging me when suddenly I felt his lips on my back.

"I'm sorry about tonight's dinner. I know I acted out of spite." A smile quickly appeared on my face as I turned to look at him.

"I love you!" My forehead touched his. A common habit we have. "Also tomorrow we are going to the store cause you destroyed my door." His laugh was like candy for my ears.

"I am crazy about you, beautiful!" We both giggled and stayed for a while in the tub.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

thank you for reading 🤍

[hotteoki]

papercuts (c.b.g)

pairing: choi beomgyu x reader (no pronouns used)

cw: beomgyu is a bit of a bitch at first, but redeems himself, mentions of blood cause of papercuts duh, minor cussing, very subtle hints of anxiety, not proofread

wc: 1.6k

notes: i actually got a papercut mid writing this

©️ gyusangels | do not repost

"shit!" you hissed. blood was already seeping through the thin line of a fresh wound. "stupid paper," you huffed under your breath, taking the bloodied one and passing on the rest of the stack to your seatmate. "hm?" he let out a quiet sound of confusion, head turning to you without taking his eyes off his sheet of paper as he wrote the date down on the top corner. you shook your head, "just a papercut."

"let's see?" he finally lifted his eyes. oh, did he have the prettiest eyes ever. and he's so sweet as well? you thought, mentally slapping yourself and reminding yourself that you moved here for education, not for relationships. you raised your thumb, showing the faint hint of red. "you call that a papercut?" a scoff was heard from him. okay, maybe he's not sweet.

you tilted your head, "what do you mean?" "come on, that's barely even a scratch," he mocked, "there's literally no reason for you to react like that." "yeah, i know. it's not that obvious, but it's still a papercut?" you asked, slightly offended. he was the one who asked you? he shook his head, still laughing, "weak." you didn't respond, still miffed.

"so, who's your lucky seatmate?" yunjin sat down beside you, placing her lunch tray down on the table. you were fortunate enough to have someone reach out and introduce themself to you at the orientation day. you were fairly certain if she hadn't gone up to you, you would've been friendless for the rest of your school life. "i don't know his name yet, i didn't get a chance to look at his tag. he has, like, brown hair, a bit wavy," you trailed off, thinking of any other significant attributes to describe him.

"okay, that narrows down to nothing," she scooped a spoonful in her mouth, resting her cheek on her hand. "i don't know, he has surprisingly neat handwriting, i guess?" yunjin let out a laugh, "true. i've never seen a guy with decent handwriting." "bitch." you looked up to see heeseung and jeongin taking their seats opposite you. "you're acting like i'm wrong," yunjin shrugged.

"oh, but you are. you see, over the holidays, innie and i have both noticed our handwritings have actually improved by a lot," heeseung waved an accusing finger in front of her, "so actually, i have great handwriting now." "yeah, yeah, whatever," yunjin slapped his hand away. "what were you guys even talking about anyway?" jeongin sipped his water. "my seatmate, i have no clue what his name is." "try looking for him here," he suggested.

you turned your body around in your seat, searching for that familiar, aggravating face. "there," you indicated with your head, "the one that just screamed in his friend's ear." "oh you poor girl, you're sitting next to choi beomgyu?" yunjin sighed in sympathy. "come on, he's not that bad," heeseung rolled his eyes. "swallow your food before speaking. say it, don't spray it," she gave him a dirty look in response.

"no, genuinely. beomgyu's not that bad. he's really nice once you get to know him," jeongin agreed, clearly enjoying his food. "shouldn't you be nice even to people you're not close with?" you teased. yunjin hummed, "i've been to this school for years, and i've probably spoken to him twice in between. neither of them were good experiences-" "do you even remember them?" heeseung sighed exasperatedly at her. she faltered, "well, no. but i remember i didn't like him because of them."

"didn't like who?" a voice from behind startled you. swivelling your head around, you hadn't realised beomgyu's figure was now towering over yours. "hey guys!" his frown immediately morphed into a smile upon seeing heeseung and jeongin, "do you want to join the rest of the us and come over to my house after school? we can hop online and you could stay for dinner?" his friend standing behind him, 'kang taehyun', his name tag wrote, gave a small smile, "he means us two, yeonjun hyung, soobin hyung, and huening kai from the year below." "yeah sure, we'll meet you by the gates."

beomgyu nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder, "i see you later, try not to get another papercut before then." you simply scowled at his back as he walked away, already knowing he was going to be a pain in your ass next class. "what was that about?" heeseung pressed his arms down on the wooden table, waiting intently for your response. "i got a papercut last lesson and he basically called me a pussy for calling it a papercut because it was so small," you held your thumb up, showing them.

"i mean, it's still a papercut. yeah, it's barely noticeable but it still counts, no?" jeongin frowned. "that's what i said, but he's still not over it apparently," you shrugged. jeongin raised his eyebrows, "i think he's just being annoying. he'll knock it off after a few days."

except he didn't knock it off.

it seemed as though you were his new entertainment for classes he hated. you had thought his talented doodles on worksheets were plenty joy for him, but apparently not. he felt the need to poke your arm consistently, or to draw smiley faces on the corners of your worksheets, or to talk your ear off until both of you got told off by the teacher, and so much more.

it didn't particularly bother you all that much, though. you had to admit, you understood why beomgyu was so well-liked amongst the school. it did terrify you a bit, the idea that so many people knew who you are, how students would crowd around your tables to talk to beomgyu during breaks. it was often extremely suffocating for you, and you would be forced to push your way through the sweaty, heavy-breathing bodies to reach yunjin and heeseung's class. you were secretly glad jeongin wasn't in their class as well, or you would've begged on your hands and knees to switch there.

today was one of the days where you had been feeling slightly under the weather, having received detention for leaving your worksheet at home, and the plenty students surrounding you did not help. you tried to distract yourself by drawing on your arm, but it was when you ran out of space did you start to stress. you were too busy rummaging through your bag for your notebook you hadn't realised the crowd had simmered away under beomgyu's request.

dropping your bag out of your grasp and onto the floor when you realised you also left your notebook at home, you leaned back against your chair and sighed, staring up at the peeled-off ceiling. you felt timid taps on your shoulder. sitting up, you faced beomgyu completely, "hm?" he avoided your confused eyes as he nudged his arm, with the sleeve rolled up, toward you.

not understanding what he was doing, you only stared at him longer. beomgyu finally raised his head up, face flaring red. you'd never seen him like this, and it was frankly quite amusing, though you didn't let that show on your expression. "i n-noticed you didn't have your, um, you know, notebook," he cursed quietly under his breath for stuttering, which you honestly found absolutely adorable.

"really? you sure?" you asked as you took out your pens. beomgyu nodded, smiling bashfully, "it's okay. go for it." around three doodles in, you noticed from the corner of your eye there were other students approaching. "what's this?" sunghoon crossed his arms, curious. beomgyu snatched his arm away, "nothing. what's up?" "we just wanted to ask if you wanted to play football with us after school on the field," jay turned his eyes to you, "you can join if you want." you shook your head, "i've got plans." that was an absolute lie. you had no plans whatsoever and were considering taking a nap as soon as you got home.

"why are you guys even playing football? you're both shit at it," beomgyu laughed. jay rolled his eyes, "do you want to or not?" "sure, i'll meet you afterwards." "alright, see you," sunghoon uncrossed his arms, returning to his seat with jay. there was an awkward silence. you were only grateful the bell rang and lesson began soon.

you weren't sure what caused a rift between the two of you, but it was bothering you a lot. you had started to befriend beomgyu, and just when the wall was beginning to break down, it was built up overnight for no apparent reason. your classes became dull once again without his cheery smile, his cute pout, his whiny tone when you didn't pay attention to him.

a week of the silent treatment, and your golden opportunity came. as you passed down the stack of worksheets to him, you heard beomgyu curse quietly. you looked over to find him clutching his index finger while passing the rest on. you couldn't help but ask, "what's wrong?" he blinked, before holding back a smile, "i got a papercut." "let me see," you gently took his hand, examining the wound.

"does this count as a papercut?" you laughed, reminding him of your first conversation. he held back a laugh of his own, "guess i'm the weak one now." you grinned, happy things were back to normal. just as you were about to remove your hand, beomgyu refused to let it go. you stared up at him, waiting for an explanation. he didn't give one, only hesitantly linking your fingers together. you felt your heart pound against your chest at the speed of light as you squeezed his hand, answering his silent question.

[irismoon94]

insufferably yours

Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: In which you hate your roommate, Eddie Munson, and he seems to have it out for you.

Which fucking sucks since you're snowed in together during a sudden blizzard.

It can't be that bad though, can it?

Word count: 6.7k

Warnings: Smut, 18+, minors DNI! enemies to lovers, rough sex, dubcon fantasy, mild bloodplay, mild cumplay, explicit language, face slapping, biting, scratching, pet names, femdom with a bit of switching.

A/N: I’m trying to work on a Kas!Eddie fic, but she a big bitch and this idea wormed it’s way into my little head after my friend came up with the prompt. My first little foray into enemies to lovers and tbh I really enjoyed it.

Part two | Part three chapter one | Part three chapter two coming soon

Masterlist of my other works

——

You hated each other. There was no way around it. But your lease wasn’t up for another eight months, and subleasing was not something you could manage right now, so you fucking dealt with him and his fucking bullshit.

You dealt with the stink of weed that seemed to radiate from his room no matter how much air freshener you sprayed in the hallway to try and keep it at bay. You dealt with the heavy metal music he played at a volume level that wouldn’t get him kicked out but was still loud enough to grate at your nerves while you were trying to sleep and his insomnia was keeping him up at ungodly hours. You dealt with his snarky fucking attitude he seemed to wear like one of his band tees, abrasive and off putting, whenever you had the misfortune of having to talk to him about rent or chores, or the occasional suggestion that he wear the headphones that he literally had resting on top of his piece of junk tape deck and never seemed to use.

You dealt with all of Eddie’s stupid fucking habits and character traits that made you want to pull out your hair at any given moment, and you were counting down the days until you were able to move out and into your own place that you were desperately saving up for.

But today, he was well and truly testing the limits of your patience and it was beginning to feel like he was doing it intentionally. Like he blamed you for the sudden blizzard that had snowed in Indy for the past couple of days, and it was your fault that the two of you were forced to be in proximity to each other until it blew over. That damned music thudded through the wall you shared, and every time he left his room, he would leave his door open so it sounded just a bit louder until he returned and slammed the door closed again.

You tried to be cordial at first, knocking on his door and asking in a polite but loud voice to turn it down a bit so you could try and at least focus on your biology paper while there wasn’t much else to do, but whether or not he heard your request, he didn’t oblige and his music remained at the same volume. You’d scoffed and smacked the door angrily before heading back to your room and doing what he refused to do instead, popping a cassette into your walkman and pulling on your headphones to try and block out the noise in the meantime. Turning up the volume as loud as you could bear and cover the background noise, you got to work on your essay.

———

Two hours later, after explaining three of the seven stages of mitosis, you could feel the start of a headache beginning to squeeze behind your eyes and you took it as a sign that you needed a break. Mindful of the cords, you leaned back in your chair and reached your arms above your head in a stretch before pulling the headphones down to hang around your neck. You rolled your eyes when you heard the music coming from Eddie’s room was still just as loud as it had been since that morning. Changing out the cassette tape and replacing your headphones over your ears, you ventured out to the kitchen to grab a glass of water and some Excedrin to try and knock out the headache before it could grow into a migraine.

Popping the white pills and chasing it with a generous swallow of icy water, you leaned against the kitchen counter for a moment to glare at Eddie’s door, trying to think of an idea of how to secretly get back at your roommate for being such a massive dick while the two of you were trapped in your apartment. Your plans were interrupted when his door suddenly swung open to reveal him glaring at a notebook with such intensity, you couldn’t help but wonder what could possibly be on its pages that made him look so frustrated. He drifted forward, doing a double take when he noticed you occupying the kitchen already, watching him suspiciously. He gave a small smirk before clapping the notebook shut and saying something that you weren’t able to hear over Billy Idol’s Eyes Without a Face.

“Wait, hold on, a second, Jesus.”, you said, tugging your headphones around your neck again irritatedly before asking him, “Now what did you say, Munson?”

“I said, ‘What, you don’t like Black Sabbath or something, Princess?’”, he repeated, smirk widening at your visible distaste for the pet name he’d given you after one of your first disagreements.

“Don’t really care who you’re listening to, but it’s a little frustrating when it’s so loud I can’t even hear myself think, Munson. Some of us have things to do that require the utmost concentration, something that is difficult to achieve when their walls are shaking.”, you said with sneer. “I still don’t understand how we’ve yet to receive any noise complaints from the neighbors.”

“Careful room selection.”, he replied, smugly.

“Huh?”, you asked, not caring to hide your confusion at his vague statement.

“Careful. Room. Selection.”, he repeated, punctuating each word like you were stupid, earning himself a sharp glare before explaining further. “It’s not that difficult, Princess. We have a corner apartment, and my room is in said corner, with plenty of buffer space between it and the walls we share with the neighbors.”

You narrowed your eyes at him in disbelief.

“Did you seriously just call my room ‘buffer space’, you fucking moron?”, you spat incredulously.

Instead of answering, Eddie merely tilted his head up so he was looking down his nose at you, the shit eating look on his face only growing increasingly more arrogant.

The urge to say something particularly hateful rose in your mind, but you quickly clamped your mouth closed and stared him down instead. You’d already given him more than enough satisfaction at the knowledge that he’d successfully gotten under your skin so easily, and you weren’t about to give him anymore. His brand of emotional terrorism combined with the throbbing in your skull was a potent mixture that had your blood boiling to the point of you considering physical violence as well, so you gave him a tight lipped smile before skirting past him and back into your room.

Slamming your door, you threw yourself onto your bed and grabbed a pillow, shoving your face into it before letting out a muffled, frustrated scream that left your throat a little ragged. It helped soothe your nerves a bit, but your head pulsated painfully as well, sapping you of the energy to remain as mad as you’d been just a few moments ago. Rolling over onto your back, you stared up at the ceiling as you heard Eddie return to his own room as well, his door closing more gently than yours had.

To your surprise and begrudging appreciation, you heard the song that had been playing lower in volume, though not by much. But it was enough to make it so you could listen to your own music at a more tolerable level as well. Deciding a nap was needed to quell the budding migraine making its home in your temple, you switched off your lamps and pulled your curtains closed against the watery winter light before settling under your covers and closing your eyes as Andante, Andante started to play softly in your ears.

———

A few hours later, you woke up in a haze, feeling heavy and warm under your blankets, and delighted to find the headache gone as your consciousness slowly returned to you. You quickly realized your headphones had gone askew on your head when you heard the increasingly familiar bass line of Holy Diver coming through the walls. You let out a heavy sigh, but resigned yourself to deal with it, since out of all of Eddie’s band preferences, Dio was the most tolerable.

Snuggling further into your blankets, you hummed at the pleasant cocoon of warmth around you, more than complacent to remain in it for a while yet and maybe even doze off again should sleep come over you again. Certainly wouldn't hurt with odd hours Eddie had been keeping anyways, you being an unwilling victim of his sleeplessness as well.

A spark of irritation ignited in you at the realization that your roommate was beginning to occupy your thoughts more often than you'd prefer as of late, making your cheeks warm in exasperation. It was annoying if you were honest with yourself, that of all the men in your life, Eddie Munson, douchebag extraordinaire, was the one you were thinking about on a frequent enough basis that you should probably consider it a problem.

Not that you thought about him in that way. Well. Maybe a couple times. But only when you’d been wine drunk and alone because he was out of the apartment playing with his band or playing that dumb tabletop game that you overheard him talk about on the phone with his friends when they were planning a game night. But that was besides the point, because you hate him, and even you were allowed to have a couple lapses of judgment from time to time.

The couple of fantasies you’d had were more out of desire to put him in place, maybe humiliate him a little while you took physical and emotional satisfaction from it. It wouldn’t be nice, it would be mean and rough, and it would probably leave you both bruised and maybe a little bloody.

The thought made you shiver.

It only took you a second to decide that his music was still loud enough before you were sliding your hand under your sweatpants and underwear to where a different sort of ache had begun to grow in you. You found yourself already a little wet when your fingers slipped between your folds, the contact making you gasp quietly and your thighs clench around your hand as you spread your slick around your clit. Using your two middle fingers, you drew tight circles around the bundle of nerves, little jolts of pleasure running through your limbs. You closed your eyes and sighed as you continued the motions, imagining dark eyes framed by dark waves watching you, that arrogant smirk plastered on his stupidly pretty mouth, making you bite back a moan.

“Fucking-hah-hate you, Eddie. Hate you-mmmn-so much.”, you murmured with a shuddering breath, your body already starting to go taut as you saw him laugh at you darkly behind your eyelids.

You could feel how soaked your fingers were becoming so quickly, and it only urged your frustrations on further, amping up your need for release as well. Pressing your fingers into yourself, you used your other hand to grab at your tit, lifting your shirt and squeezing it, pinching the nipple roughly as you continued to fantasize about his searing gaze on you while he watched you fuck yourself out of loathing for him. It was so fucking wrong, but, God, if it didn’t make you hotter than you’ve ever felt before.

The reverie continued on, the scene changing into one where you had him cuffed to your headboard with the pair of handcuffs you’d spotted on more than one occasion when you’d managed a peek inside when his door was open. He was glaring up at you while you straddled him, silent fury pouring off of him in waves since you’d duct taped his mouth shut as well.

“Silence suits you so well, Eddie.”, you purred at him, rubbing your thumb across the smooth silver tape gag. “Should have done this ages ago.”

You could practically hear the fuck you he was no doubt screaming at you internally. It only spurred you on further. Fisting his shirt in both of your hands, you pulled them apart quickly, the soft fabric ripping until the pale skin of his chest was revealed, the dark ink of his tattoos stark against his flesh. A muffled sound of protest sounded in his throat at the destruction of his tee, making you grin down at him triumphantly.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you like this shirt? Should have spoken up sooner, I guess, huh?”, you taunted as you pulled the shredded article apart to further expose his torso.

Starting at his navel, you dragged a light finger tip up his stomach and chest before laying your hand over his heart, feeling the quickened beats thump up against your palm. You raised your brows at him suggestively before you dug your nails into his skin and raked them down his chest, leaving angry red welts along the way, one of them with his nipple in path.

He gave another muffled shout as he uselessly tried to pull back from the assault, his chest caving in slightly while his shoulders pulled towards his ears, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. You giggled, leaning down and licking the salt from his cheeks while you rolled your hips against him, feeling how his own canted up slightly to meet yours.

“Ohhh, did pretty boy like that?”, you cooed down at him, noting the way his eyes glinted dangerously, anger still darkening their depths, but a hint of lust swirling around in them as well. “What do you think, sweetheart? If I took off your gag, would you beg me for it, I wonder?”

Outside of the fantasy, you released your nipple and reached towards your nightstand, pulling open the drawer to retrieve your dildo as your orgasm hovered just out of reach, the need to be filled prompting the use of your toy. You were a slave to your lust in this moment, your focus so entirely on your pleasure that you didn’t hear the door down the hall open again as a slutty moan escaped your lips while you teased your clit with the soft silicone.

Your imagination saw you caressing Eddie’s face in a facsimile of affection before you were pinching his cheeks between your fingers so you could hold him in place as you ground yourself against the growingly evident hard on pressing against your clothed cunt.

“What about it, Eddie? Do you want to feel what it’s like to be inside me? You wanna know how good it’ll feel to be buried inside me while I ride you until I come? But not you, you won’t be allowed to come until I say so, yeah?”

You watched as his expression of hatred grew colder for a few beats before it wavered just a fraction as he considered your offer, giving you all the indication you needed to know his resolve had crumbled enough to give him the chance to speak for himself. Grabbing the edge of the tape, you peeled it ever so slightly up, pulling it little by little until the corner of his mouth appeared, the line of it downturned in a soft grimace. You were gentle in your removal of the gag, or you were until you reached the middle of those plush lips and then you ripped the rest of it off in one quick movement, earning a sharp hiss from between bared teeth.

“MotherFUCKER!”, Eddie snarled, blood beginning to rise to the places where the tape had ripped the tender skin of his lips. “What the hell-”

Before he could hurl anymore profanities at you, you dove in for a taste of the crimson, sucking his bottom lips between yours and pulling it taut between your teeth as iron and salt flooded your tastebuds. His hips bucked under yours again, making you grin as you sat back on his lap with his blood coating your mouth like lipstick. You licked them clean while his eyes turned nearly black as they bored into yours.

“Alright Eds, either you can be quiet and obedient, or I can tape your mouth back up, okay? So what’s it gonna be? You gonna be a good little boy for me? Or do I need to punish you some more?”

His mouth opened for a beat before he closed it again, finally understanding his choices were slim.

“Mmm, that is a good boy. Though if I’m honest, I was hoping I might get to punish you a little more. Oh well, the day’s not over yet, is it?”, you bemoaned, sliding off of his lap and onto his shins, the feeling of his eyes on you as you unbuttoned his jeans. “Now then, let's see what we’re working with, huh?”

You had no idea what Eddie’s dick actually looked like, but something about his tall and lanky stature certainly translated to your imagined idea of what it might look like. Long with average girth, uncircumcised with a head as pretty of a red as his lips were when they were all flushed. Free of his boxers, it bobbed in front of your face before it lay twitching on his stomach, eager to be touched. It was enough to make your mouth water as you took in the sight of his nearly completely bare under you, as desperate for you fuck him as he was to hurt you for humiliating you. Leaning towards it, you blew on it softly, making it jerk upwards in response. You heard the stifled groan he bit back, not entirely willing yet to let you see exactly how much you were affecting him.

Crawling back over top of him, you shimmied off your panties, your shirt remaining so as to not give him any more satisfaction than he would be getting from you using him for your own pleasure. He was lucky you were even using him to begin with. Reaching between you, you grasped his cock, smearing the precome that had beaded at the tip around the head before rubbing your cunt against it to further lubricate it. Satisfied with your work, you glanced back up at him, smiling poisonously at how he stared at you greedily.

“Look at you, so hungry for it, aren’t you?”, you taunted before lowering yourself onto him, the length of him slowly engulfed in the clutch of your sex.

“Oh fuck.”, you moaned, pushing the soaked dildo into your pussy as you pictured Eddie’s bottoming out inside you. “Fucking hell, Eddie.”

“Well, well, well, what do we have, huh, Princess?”, a voice asked, cutting through your thoughts like a razor sharp knife.

Red hot shame seared through you as your eyes snapped open to find Eddie staring at you with a mix of surprise and entertainment on his face, his arms crossed as he leaned his shoulder against your door frame. Your cheeks flamed in shame and anger as well, as you held your blanket to your chest and sat up, flinging your pillow at his head. He blocked easily against it, holding up an arm and knocking it to the floor with a small cackle.

“Ed- Munson, what the fuck?! What are you doing just barging in here like that? Ever heard of knocking?”, you screeched at him, pulling your shirt back over your tits and glaring daggers at him, hoping they might become tangible and actually kill him.

He rolled his eyes hard, taking a few steps further into your room with a sardonic smile.

“Oh, cut the shit, sweetheart. I’m not the one who was moaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear with their door unlocked for anyone to walk in. And by the sounds of it, I think you might have been hoping for a certain roommate of yours to find you with your hands down your pants.”, he goaded, moving even closer to you until he was just a few feet away from your bed.

You seethed at him, grabbing your other pillow to hurl at him, but he was quicker than you, reaching out and grabbing your wrist before you could manage the throw. His smile was all teeth, the dark glint in his eyes going straight to your traitorous cunt. You swallowed hard as those chocolate orbs seemed to pin you in place.

“Hey now, no more of that, okay, Princess? If you want to fuck me, all you gotta do is ask, you know. We’re both adults, you don’t have to pretend with me”, he said, his words feeling slimy against your skin.

“Why fuck would I want to have to have sex with you? I wasn't moaning your name, you egotistical prick. If anything, you’re the one who wants fuck me, since you imagined your name coming out of my mouth in any capacity close to desire. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you stare at me when you think I’m not paying attention.”

“And so what if I have, hm? Hard not to when you’re prancing around in those little shorts in the summer, acting like you’re hot shit or something. But I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, okay? You’re only pretty when that smart mouth of yours is closed. Once it opens, bullshit comes out and you lose almost all the attractiveness you might have held.”, Eddie snorted.

You could hear your blood rushing in your ears, loud and fast, and before you could stop yourself, your free hand shot up and slapped him across the face. His head turned with the impact, the imprint already reddening his cheek as your chest heaved with barely restrained rage. It took him a moment to react, his face a mask of faint surprise until his eyes flicked back to you and a terrible smile began to take shape upon his lips. You shrank back a fraction at the headiness of it, unexpectedly fearful of what it actually meant.

“Do it again, sweetheart.”, he murmured, turning his face to look at you full on again.

Inhaling deeply, you pulled your other hand from his grip and wound it back before slapping the opposite cheek on the exhale of your breath, his head snapping from the force of it again. A quick glance downward confirmed your suspicions when you saw the crotch of his jeans beginning to strain under his growing erection. You swallowed again, looking back up to find hunger clouding his face, expression almost identical to how you’d imagined it in your fantasy but also darker and more vicious.

The tension between the two of you was palpable, thick and tight with unspoken weight that had you digging your fingers into your thighs until he was wrenching your wrists out of your lap and alongside your head, pinning you under him. Leaning down, he nosed at your cheek and scraped his teeth along your jaw, making you whine involuntarily.

“Mmmm, what a pretty sound. Maybe I was wrong, maybe not everything that comes out of your mouth is bullshit after all.”, he teased, looking down his nose at you as you glowered back.

“Fuck you.”, you retorted, your words having less bite than you’d intended.

He tilted his head and smirked.

“That is the idea, Princess. But I wanna hear you say it first. Need to hear you beg for me to fuck you.”, he cooed.

It was embarrassing how much your body was reacting to his. The role reversal should have just infuriated you further but instead it was riling your lust further. You fought to maintain your wits, but the need for release was quickly overcoming any sense you might have had prior to his body heat and smokey scent enveloping you. Chewing on your bottom lip, you tried to find the words to get him off of you and out of your room again, but then his knee was pressing between your legs and closer to where your aching cunt was begging for the attention he’d stolen from it.

A short lived inner conflict raged in your head before you were swallowing your pride for the moment and nodding at him. Taking another breath you gave your answer.

“…Please, Eddie. I-I want you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me.”, you conceded, voice still more than a little petulant but still agreement enough to set him to work.

“Not exactly begging, but I guess that might be the best I’ll get from you, huh, Princess?”, he said, pulling your wrists together to hold them in one hand to free the other to explore your body.

Lazily, he trailed it down your neck and chest, pulling the blanket down and pausing to give your tit an experimental squeeze, tugging the nipple when it peaked through the fabric of your shirt. Another reluctant noise escaped your lips at the sensation, prompting him to continue his hand’s travels down your torso and underneath the blanket to the waistband of your sweatpants. His knee retreated enough to make room as his hand dipped into your panties, cupping your cunt roughly.

“Wow, all this for little ole me, huh?”, he said, sliding a finger between your soaked folds lightly.

You knocked your head back against your pillow in frustration before pushing yourself up as much as your pinned arms would allow so you were in his face.

“Enough with the teasing, Munson. Foreplay isn’t necessary when I’ve done all the hard work for you already. Besides the dildo I was using before you interrupted is no doubt more than ample for whatever pencil dick situation you’ve got going on anyways.”, you hissed, trying to provoke his ire with a well placed jab that you were beginning to suspect was inaccurate based on the way his jeans were tented despite their tightness.

He was bigger than your previous estimations, and the thought made your cunt clutch in worrisome anticipation.

But despite your attempt to agitate him, he just snickered and gave a faux pout.

“Oh, is the poor baby impatient? Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll give you what you want here shortly. But you gotta behave, okay? Want you to keep your hands to yourself while I get myself a little more comfortable. Can you do that for Daddy, Princess?”

You nearly gagged at the little pet names and how he called himself daddy. “You’re disgusting, Munson.”

“And yet here you are under me, begging for my cock.”, he shot back, letting go of your hands.

Sitting back on his knees, he yanked his long sleeve over his head and let it fall to the ground before moving onto his belt and pants, undoing them with practiced ease until he noticed you watching him with your hands folded over your chest.

“You can take your clothes off too, you know. Or are you shy?”, he said, looking down at your shift expectantly.

You scowled, hesitating for a moment before you grabbed the hem of it and shucked off the offending article.

“It’s a little fucking cold, you know.”, you groused as you covered your tits from the cool air again.

“I’ll warm you up in a second, Jesus. Really are such an impatient brat.”, he muttered, tossing the remainder of his clothes to the floor and giving you a peek at the rest of his body.

Surprise tugged your brows up when you found him to be carrying a bit more muscle than you’d anticipated. Not defined by any measure, but you could see a hidden strength in his arms and chest where you'd expected none. And when you finally caught sight of his dick, you might have gasped just a little.

It was gorgeous.

No other way around it. Thicker than you could have guessed, but not quite as long either. It was dark and heavy between his thighs, a tantalizing thatch of hair around it that thinned into a sparse happy trail that traveled to just under his navel. When you finally pulled your gaze from it, you found his eyes watching you with unrestrained glee at your surprise. Your scowl returned and he chuckled in response.

“What was that about a ‘pencil dick’ again?”, he teased, grabbing the edge of your blanket and pulling it down to expose your legs and relieve them of the pants and underwear you still wore.

“Oh please, I’ve had bigger.”, you lied, letting him further disrobe you until you were both completely bare and staring at each other unabashedly.

“Sure you have, Princess. Whatever you say.”

Swallowing thickly, you looked away and covered yourself as much as you could with your arms before complaining about the chill again. He lowered himself back on top of you, resting on one firearm before grabbing the blanket and pulling it over the two of you to trap in your combined body heat again.

“There, better, Princess?”, he asked.

“Not really, seeing as you haven’t made me cum yet.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking needy, you know that? I'm just trying to make sure you’re comfortable and you’re too busy complaining about every fucking thing.”, he spat, looking at you with such contempt that you could feel your blood begin to boil again in response.

Good, this is what you wanted. You wanted mean and angry and wrong. You hated him and you didn’t want him to be soft with you. Taking your chance, you grabbed his wrists and wrapped a leg around his waist, using the other to propel you up as you rolled him over so he was the one under you now, gaining the control you sought in the conversation.

He let out a sound of resistance, but you forced all your weight into pinning him, unwilling to give him an inch.

“This is what I wanted, Eddie. You’re right, I do want your cock, but only like this. With you under me, where you belong while I use you like a fucking toy as retribution for all the bullshit you put me through. The loud music, the snark, the disrespect. I don’t think I’ve asked for much as a roommate. In fact, I think I’m a fantastic fucking roommate, you should consider yourself lucky to have me as a roommate, but no, you act like an ass at every turn as thanks for putting up with you.”

He opened his mouth to no doubt say something stupid, but you quickly covered it and shook your head down at him.

“Ah, ah, ah. No talking. If you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna shut up, lay there and take it while I use you and let you use me too, okay?”, you simpered, daring him to argue with you more.

But he remained silent, dark eyes fiery as they bored into yours. Smiling victoriously, you removed your hand from his mouth slowly and leaned back to straddle him.

“Good boy.”, you crooned, reaching between your bodies to line him up with your entrance.

You gave him a few good pumps for good measure before you slid down his length, the stretch delicious as he filled you completely, already twitching as soon as he was fully seated inside you.

Eddie sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth as you rolled your hips experimentally, his jaw tensing as you began to set a slow and steady pace. You couldn’t help but revel in how despite his glare, his hands clasped at his legs, obviously itching to grab your hips and meet your pace thrust for thrust. Unable to help yourself, you grabbed his wrists again pinning them on either side of his head like he’d done to you and using the leverage to lift your hips higher before slamming them back down, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing around your room lewdly.

Your faces were close in this position, and you took the opportunity to recreate the part of your fantasy where you tugged his lip between your teeth, letting your incisors sink into the plush of it and draw blood around them. It painted both of your mouths in scarlet and iron, and you lapped at it, enjoying his answering wince before his tongue was meeting yours to fight for dominance in the only way you’d let him. You drew back enough for a thread of blood and spit connected your mouths before breaking and landing on his flushed chest.

Licking your lips clean, you dipped back down and dragged your tongue through the pink spittle before you sucked a welt in its place, the mark as dark as the ink that decorated his skin just a few inches away. A heavy groan ripped out of him as his body bowed under you, hips jerking up as you inflicted a heady combination of pain and pleasure on his body as you nipped and sucked your way up his collarbones and neck. You didn’t need him to speak to know that he was thoroughly enjoying the roughness, and you were eager to really take it as far as you could, to leave your mark on him as a reminder for him not to fuck with you anymore.

“What’s the matter, Princess?”, you crooned, sitting back up on him to grind your hips into him, the friction pushing you further to the orgasm you’d been denied for too long already. “Is Daddy being too rough with you?”

Something seemed to snap in him at the names, his hand reaching up to grasp your neck and pull you back into a ferocious kiss that had your teeth clacking into each other as you fought for control once again. His other arm slid down your back to grab your ass and use the hold to rut into you ferociously, the head of his cock hitting the sweet spot deep inside you repeatedly while you gasped and moaned into his mouth.

“I fucking hate you.”, you growled, hands fisting into his hair and tugging hard as you licked into his mouth, the ghost of his blood still flavoring the kiss, along with the subtle hint of nicotine and smoke.

You were becoming wild for it, desperate for more. Desperate for him.

“I know you do.”, he panted against your lips, his irises nearly engulfing the browns of his eyes in their dark depths. “Come for me?”

You snarled at his request, your cunt clenching around him as it sent you closer to unraveling. You wanted to come so badly, ready for it to swallow you whole and set your body ablaze from the heat of it, but you were still set on it being on your own terms rather than his. Pulling away from his mouth again, you released your hold on his hair to wrap your hands around his throat instead, squeezing ever so tightly as you continued to bounce up and down on his dick. His hands found a new place to rest on your hips, fingernails digging into the soft flesh there as he watched you, suddenly enraptured with the way you exerted your control over him so easily.

It was almost disgusting the way he looked at you, almost worshipful in its intensity; but instead of repelling you, it merely spurred you on further, your grip on his neck tightening until his face began to turn red.

“You’re a fucking freak, you know that, Eds? Dirty little slut who’s letting me use you like the toy you are while I degrade you, and you’re getting off on it, are you? You can’t even deny it because I feel how close you are, even closer now that I’m choking you.”, you sneered, enjoying the way his eyes were beginning to cross. “Don’t go passing out on me yet, sweetheart, I’m close too, and I want you to watch.”

Letting go of his windpipe, you placed one hand on his chest for leverage as you reached between your legs to rub at your clit, chasing your climax. You heard cough and gasp as he sucked in the much needed air, and you laughed as you felt yourself reach the edge you’d been working towards. His hold on your hips tightened as your back arched, your orgasm slamming into you full force, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

“Gonna come-”, he managed to grit out, prompting you to pull off of him just before thick ropes of cum spurted out of him and onto his stomach, his dick jumping as his orgasm tore through him.

You sat just next to him, chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath while you appreciated the ravaged mess you’d left Eddie in; sweat and cum coating his torso while his lips remained red with drying blood. Leaning over, you swiped a finger through the white puddle settling above his navel, streaking it up his chest before popping the digit in your mouth for a taste. You stuck your tongue out in distaste at its flavor and wiped the rest off on your sheets, uncaring at the mess since you would undoubtedly be washing them as soon as you kicked Eddie out in a couple minutes. But you’d be nice and give him a chance to recover a little first before you did that.

Looking over at you, still trying to catch his breath, Eddie gave you a smile. Not a smirk, but a smile. You felt your cheeks redden at the sight before the scowl you reserved for him took back over your face. The smile widened and he chuckled, pulling himself up into a seated position, mirroring you.

“That was fun.”, he said breathlessly. “We should do that again sometime.”

It jarred you just as much as the smile still playing on his lips and you ducked your head, averting your gaze.

“Get out, Munson.”, you ordered, barely any heat behind the words.

He chuckled again, sliding to the edge of your bed, but pausing to press a soft kiss to your cheek before grabbing his clothes and heading to the door, just narrowly avoiding a smack to the head from you as he did.

“Though next time, we should do it in my room so we can be as loud as we want. Want to hear all the pretty sounds you can make.”, he teased, closing your door just in time before your pillow could hit him square in the face.

———

The next day, you’d awoke to knocking on the front door and the muffled sounds of voices before silence resumed. Wiping at your eyes, you pulled on a thick sweatshirt before heading into the kitchen, your throat scratchy from sleep and needing a drink of water to soothe it. Eddie was already in it, almost looking like he was waiting for you by the looks of the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth when he saw you enter. You narrowed your eyes at him before shooing him away from the fridge to pull out a bottle of water.

Taking a swig first, you sighed and asked, “Who was it?”

“The landlord. Said we got a couple noise complaints yesterday. Gave us a warning and said, and I quote ‘keep the feral cat sex sounds to a minimum’.”, he explained, barely contained laughter shaking his shoulders as you choked on your water, sputtering and trying to brush the cold liquid off your shirt before it could soak in too much.

“What. The. Fuck!’, you exclaimed, glowering at him as he finally busted out laughing, holding a hand up to defend against the blows you tried to rain down on him.

Strong hands grabbed your wrists and held them aloft as he smirked down at you, the fight going out of you as a different kind of heat filled your veins at the touch.

“I guess I’ll have to stop calling you Princess now, huh? Kitten sound much more fitting after seeing your claws come out yesterday.”, he taunted, leaning down so your faces were only inches apart.

It made your heart skip a beat.

God, you hated him so much.

[love-toxin]

“I am not letting you walk out this house!" and “God, Shut up” with Toxic and Possessive Best Friend!Eddie. Maybe he's jealous cause you're getting ready for a date.

ellie's sentence starters

xlv - "I am not letting you walk out this house!"

xx - "God, shut up."

(cws: gn!angelface, eddie's a little toxic, established friendship, pining, jealousy, failed confession, teasing)

Even if he isn't right now, Eddie may as well be stomping his foot and huffing like a toddler throwing a tantrum. The eye rolling at you fixing your hair for the nth time, the sigh after you ask him how you look before he answers you for real, the groan whenever you mention another nice detail about this guy you're going out with--it all makes up quite the unattractive image for Eddie, but you'd be surprised if he actually cared about that.

"You need to cool it, mister." You mutter as you touch up the scent you've picked on your wrists and your neck--that especially seems to bother Eddie. "You're being unreasonable."

"Unreasonable!" He scoffs, as if the mere idea is more than he can take. He sits up as the word flies out of his mouth, his butt firmly seated on your bed where he's been trying to talk you out of this date for the past hour. "Says the one who put perfume on their ankles. Whore."

You turn on a dime and flick the bottle of body spray at him, the plastic top hitting him in the shoulder and killing him as dramatically as ever, his upper half flopping back and hitting your bed with a death moan as the bottle rolls away. You're sure it actually hurt at least, which is as good as you can really get with Eddie when he's fucking around.

"Yeah, well, one of us has to get laid. May as well be me, hm?" Your deft fingers set to affixing your earrings, the last two things you need to get ready--but when you say that, Eddie sits right back up like he did before and shoots you a glare through the mirror you're facing.

"That's not funny."

"It wasn't a joke."

His nose scrunches like he's disgusted, maybe at the idea or at your attitude about it, and finally pulls himself off your wrinkled sheets to come wandering up behind you. "You're really gonna sleep with that dickhead?"

"If the mood is right." He huffs again, and his eyes drop to your vanity. Something pricks at his interest, something of importance--but you're two seconds too slow to stop him, and in a moment he's stepping away with your keys in his hand and you're turned towards him to reach for them. A gentle "ah, ah" escapes him as he pushes back on your chest with two fingers, and you hate that he gets so much twisted enjoyment out of holding things over you. Literally and figuratively.

"Then I am not letting you walk out of this house." He shakes your keyring teasingly, yanking it out of your reach both times that you try to grab it, and when he shakes it in front of your eyes you just let out a groan and throw your hands up in defeat.

"What's your problem, Eddie?"

"I don't have a problem." He prods you in the chest to punctuate it, before crossing his arms over his own chest.

"Don't lie to me. What, don't tell me you're hoping I stay single so you can have a crack at it?" You were joking, but it doesn't seem like Eddie is, especially since he doesn't move this time when you make another grab for your keys and manage to swipe them this time. Actually, you're not sure if you've ever seen Eddie's mood turn so foul in so short a time, his brow furrowing and his foot sweeping out like he's imagining kicking something in slow motion.

"Would that be so bad?"

"Wh....Eddie, what-"

He cuts you off by grabbing your face, each hand cupping one of your cheeks and dipping his head so close, like....like he wants to be as close as possible. The motion in itself makes you jolt, but the touch of his hands sends a warmth racing through your body that you can't quite explain.

"Would. It. Be. So. Bad?" As if he's trying to say it slowly so you take it all in, he punctuates each word and surveys your reaction, only loosening his grip on you when you suck in a breath through your teeth. His gaze drops to your lips, and back again. "What if I wanted to fuck you?"

Those words drip like honey from his lips and freeze when they hit the air, hanging suspended like they've been frozen in time. You know he's close enough to smell your perfume, and it's one he likes, but it's stifling to you--your whole room feels tiny, like it's closing in on you even though the only one holding you close to him is Eddie.

"...You're a dick, Eddie." You push him off, brushing away the feelings that are rising in your chest, begging to come out--just because it felt nice doesn't mean you have to acknowledge it. Or should. Because Eddie's just fucking with you, like he always does. He was gonna flick you in the forehead and mock you for getting all hot and bothered anyways, so it's better for you if you shut that down before it can go too far.

"God, shut up."

But you're not getting away from him, if it wasn't clear by how aggressively he groans that out--it's more obvious when he shoves you back, causing you to brace suddenly against your vanity, and grabbing your hands out of the way so he can push his lips up against yours in a kiss. A hot, desperate kiss, needy and deep and so firm you couldn't squirm away from him if you tried. His hands coming down to clamp on your shoulders make extra sure of that, the bands of his rings digging into your skin as if it'll keep you there even longer.

But your foot coming down hard on his makes extra sure that he stumbles back, groaning and spitting curses in pain along with a "What the fuck is your problem?!" that just burns you even hotter.

"My problem is that you're an ass, and you're going way too far." With your keys firmly in hand, you grab your bag and haul it over your shoulder, passing by Eddie as he clutches his foot like he's not even there. You're not too worried about leaving him in your bedroom alone--god knows that he never goes through the front door anyways, so nobody will see him coming or going.

"You think I'm lying? I fucking like you!"

"Sure you do," You roll your eyes, already pushing your bedroom door open to leave. Even though the desperation in his voice draws you back to the feeling of his lips on yours, the warmth and softness of which begs to be revisited, you have to shake it off and get on your way. Eddie's little touches and pinches and mock jabs at affection can't hold you back forever--if he actually liked you, you're sure he would've said so already. So even if it hurts, you just brush it off as if that kiss was just another one of those harmless jabs. "Just forget it, Eddie. I'm going. Bye."

You wave him off as you leave, huffing a sigh as you hurry down the stairs and dart out the door to make sure you're not late. When you're gone, all is quiet, and he stands there like he's been glued to the floor and can't make a move, whether it be backwards or forwards.

"Christ," He moans to himself, running his fingers back through his hair. You've got no idea what that kiss did to him, how violently he wanted to throw you over your bed and make you squeal, make you forget all about that stupid date....but as it turns out, being somewhat of a gentleman hasn't lent itself to his credibility, considering you don't even believe him. "Fuck my life."

With nothing better to do, he collapses back on your bed, limbs splayed out on all sides, staring at your ceiling and letting the events play out in his head. Wondering if you might share a kiss like that with....whatever his name is, Danny or George or Tommy, or whoever. And the thought of you doing more, of you coming home with a hickey or your hair all messed up and your shoes in hand, oh, that might actually drive him insane.

But because he's useless in this department, and there's few other things he can do about it now that he's fucked it all up, there's only a handful of things he can do to pass the time until he gets another chance. Jerking off in your bed was one, although he was hoping he might have you doing that for him--but beggars can't be choosers, he supposes, and you haven't gotten to your dirty laundry yet. Might be some diamond in the rough that he can make good use of. God, I'm such a loser.

A loser that's madly, madly in love with his best friend, and has to think now of some way he can get you to realize just how much he really does.

[makeitallmarvel]

SNOWFALL

Part 5 Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

“Alright team. It’s a simple catch and release job. We should be back by midweek” Steve stated as he  passed out the file to you and Bucky. You buried your face in the client information to avoid Bucky's wandering eyes. You could feel it piercing into you and it made you so uncomfortable you wanted to squirm. Steve started the engine from the cockpit alerting you to take your seat and to be honest you were grateful. The tension was so thick in the air. Sitting in your favorite spot you took a deep breath as you flew through the air. Your head bobbed up and down as you tried to snooze through the flight. You had about 14 hours to go and wanted to rest up enough to instantly hit recon if needed. Bucky kept stealing glances at you even though all you returned were daggers back at him. “I’m going to lead on this one. When we land I’ll stake out the area. The two of you stay here and be my eyes and ears from aboard.” Steve commanded. He had a tone to his voice that wasn’t about to be questioned. “Yes captain” you replied as you shot a look at Bucky that said he better not even breathe in your direction.

Steve had been gone a total of ten minutes before bucky made the first move. “Y/n” he began and you held up your finger to silence him. It worked for a total of two seconds before he tried again. “Just listen” he started to say which infuriated you. What could he possibly have to say? “Bucky I can’t do this” you groaned. Bucky threw his hands up, “do what? I wasn’t aware we were doing something” he shot back at you. You could tell by his facial expression he was on the verge of being pissed. “I sang to you! I said Dont. Leave. And what did you do? You fucking left Bucky! You left me all alone! Honestly, who does that?!” You screeched. Bucky looked at you in surprise as he opened his mouth to respond then closed it. “I’m not responsible for you! I’m allowed to leave and live my life.” he demanded. That took you aback. You literally had to back up a few steps as you took in his words. “You don’t get to show up at my door every night like a lost puppy and climb into my bed and then leave whenever the fuck you want! You have to tell me things Bucky! I mean damnit what am I to you? I’m too afraid to close my eyes! Because when I open them I know you won’t be there!” You screamed on the top of your lungs. Your voice catching at the end breaking as the tears you fought so hard to keep back leaked a few through. Bucky grabbed you with such intensity and just held you in his arms stroking your hair. The two of you stood there for a few moments before you realized what you were doing. In that instant you sniffed back the last tears and pushed Bucky as hard as you could away from your body. “I need to walk” you grumbled walking out of the jet into the woods nearby.

“Where the hell is y/n?” Steve asked as his boots hit the metal flooring announcing his return. “She went for a walk” Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “God damnit Buck really?” Steve sighed angrily. “I’ll go find her. Don’t leave. I’ve found our target we’ll intercept tomorrow.” He practically grunted. Bucky slammed his case file down as hard as he could in frustration.

The next morning you found yourself pacing in front of a bloodied man tied to a chair. “I really don’t feel like that’s the truth” you stated, clicking your tongue at the end of your sentence. “That’s disappointing” you warned, cocking your head before striking the man with all your night. More blood sprayed out of his mouth. He chuckled before looking up at all of you. “Are you going to let this bitch do all the talking?” He asked rudely. You took a look at Steve and Bucky standing behind either side of you with their hands behind their back. “She likes to talk, what can I say?” Bucky stated coolly. His comment made you smirk. The interrogation lasted longer than you wanted but you weren’t tiring out. Your target however, was. He had been beaten down by you and was barely hanging on. You wiped your knuckles off with a towel and stole a glance at Steve. He nodded letting you know it was his turn to finish. You turned around and left him to it.

Your mood was in between sour and satisfied when you arrived back home. The assignment was completed successfully allowing you to redeem yourself from the last mishap. Bucky, on the other hand, had thrown you into a moody spiral. You were smoking a cigarette outside when you felt his aura behind you. You tensed your shoulders in preparation for whatever he had in mind. “We should take a break, '' he suggested. Your lungs could barely breathe at his words. The tears prickled behind your eyes. You had to say something eventually and not just stand in stunned silence. “How can you break from something that never started?” You asked bitterly. The pain evident in your voice. “Like this" he stated and simply walked away. You took a step after him and then stopped yourself. Your body filled with such rage and pain that you couldn’t control yourself. You lashed out at the closest thing next to you which was the wall. A sickening crack could be heard clear across the room. The pain sent your body to its knees. “FUCK!” You screamed in frustration. Looking down at your hand you found a deformed finger swollen and red. You rolled your eyes and headed towards Bruce feeling so many things you couldn’t feel anymore. You couldn’t even feel your hand. “What happened?” Bruce asked. You shrugged back some tears before answering, “He did.” you whispered.

[novaauster]

HELLOOOO LETS KILL OURSELVES OVER HERINES HARASAEON. evil of you to do this when im hungover i already almost teared up literally just seeing kiva have her own character tag. like those are my babies from my silly little head and people are creating beautiful things for them!!!! insanity. let's go:

"I just needed a plot device in order to make that boy talk about his feelings bc he only does it if he's homicidal or inebriated" another horrible day fighting the hella-rin allegations

"She never touches his skin, only his scalp, only when doing his hair." fuck the hangover i need a DRINKKK

ama. my best worldbuilding addition by far but also my mortal enemy

"Rin wants to venture into the realm of the gods, find which one is responsible for time, and hold a knife to its throat. He’d force it to turn back the hourglass and eat his words. He’d get on his knees before it and tell it that time itself, and every word spoken, and every word unspoken, must bend to the queen." this whole thing is quite literally some of my favourite writing of all time this is insane this is tattooed onto every inch of my skin i preach this from street corners i spray paint it on buses i-

THE WITCH HAS SHORT HAIR? INTERESTING

they're all so formal lmaoooo. down with monarchy but my harasaeons are okay ig

DRAKO AND AKILA MENTIONED IN A FIC INCIDENT 2 DEAD ONE STILL WRITING LETTERS

"He was born as an apology and he lives the life of a paragon. He likes to be responsible." nova your days are numbered. when i catch you

YOU EQUATED KIVA'S INFLUENCE ON THE PROCEDURE TO SUNLIGHT WHAT IF I KILLED MYSELF. AND ALL THE LANGUAGE REGARDING SHADOW/DARKNESS WITH RIN. MY LAST STRAW

"Her hand brushes a strand of hair back behind his ear, and he hears, more than feels, the kiss to the top of his head. “I’ll be right outside, baby-- baby.”" worst day of my fuckass life

KIVA OBEYS. I CANT DO THIS

clean clay is such a fun addition i love that. also love how official you made the practise of witchcraft bc that's EXACTLY what i want from it like it's literally like talking to any other medical professional

"He spends his time in the sunlight of the library, Kidaro napping on the windowsill, with political treatises, historical scrolls, and the occasional epic poem spread out around him like a hurricane, a method to its madness. He enjoys it. He was always a child with his head in the clouds. He does miss music, though. The palace can get quiet" MY BABY MY BABYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

RIN IS THE OBEDIENT ONE. KIVA OBEYS. DOG MOTIF HARASAEON IS THE BULLET IN THE GUN IM HOLDING

HELPPPPPP MARY IS KINDA GAGGING HIM HERE LMFAO I LOVE HER

HE TOLD HER ABOUT LILLA????? KING PUT THE VODKA DOWNNNNNNNNNN

"Royal blood, good for nothing but animal feed." NOVA. WHEN. I. CATCH. YOU

AND HE CANNOT ASK DRAKO. THEY'RE BROTHERS THEY'RE MAATUI BUT EVEN AFTER ALL THESE YEARS WILLEM IS SOMETHING THEY CANT MAKE PEACE WITH

'would you still love me if I was a worm?' caught me SOO OFF GUARD IM CACKLING I CANT BELIEVE YOU ADDED THAT

"Rin had created a ten-step plan for the event that one of them met the same fate." HES SUCH A NERD I WOULD KILL FOR HIM

memory so bad i actually checked my kuserian dictionary bc i was like 'oooo ghost being translated to death-shadow is cool why dont i remember that' girl....

HAMMARIIIIIIIII. the way even her name made my stomach flip. what if i cried

got too immersed in the procedure and forgot to live react oops

"he would do anything if it meant he was doing it right" "It’s just that a firstborn is a war. A firstborn is a hurricane with a thousand buzzing wings. It is an omen seared into the back of all their necks, it is once-in-a-generation, it is a gift from the gods. And Rin is not one."

DID YOU. DID YO UFCKNING PUT EPIC OF GILGAMESH IN THIS. DIIIIID YOU FUCKING DO THAHFT. HOW LONG IS THE EYE ABLE TO LOOK AT THE SUN FROM THE VERY BEGINNING NOTHING AT ALL HAS LASTED HE'S BEEN DEAD SINCE THE BEGINNING IN THE STORY OF GODS AND KINGS YOU WERE DEAD BEFORE THE INK DRIED

drako's first thought only being to ask 'will you be okay'. frankly i cant take much more. is this how you guys feel when i talk about them because this is AWFUL

"There were myths, in the burnt edges of the kingdom, that said that there were only ever two Harasaeons. The queen and the heiress, switching places in a cycle like night and day. Hammari and Kiva, two stages of the same life, the snake’s egg and the hummingbird. And then, their reincarnations, Lugalia and-- who? The queen is dead. Long live the queen. It is a form of immortality. Rin shattered it." STOP STOP MAKE IT STOP

the philisophical conversation. is love a form of magic. the chasm of his birth. im going to GET YOU

"Please, Ama. You don’t have to love me anymore. Just remember how it felt when you did." THROWING UP BLOOD

that was. im a changed person i need 3-5 business days to think about this i need to call my mum i need to get drunk i need a fantasy witch to cut my tits off

omg hi!!! so true herines harasaeon group suicide girls night <3 and kiva has made her ao3 debut! she's girlbossing she's literally a debutante she is the queen of all time. yeah

-the witch does have short hair! she's from the east (where the monsters are) and yknow I figure that her powers are used for medicine, but if she didn't have all the safety things put in place (no sunlight, careful runes and careful chants) and just went hogwild on a monster she could basically Shigaraki that thing. monster hunting is her side hustle tbh

-the formal speech was fun for me idk. watched too much BBC Victoria with my mom and now I gasp like a gossiping old lady when I write the phrase "You have my permission to withdraw" bc it's SUCH a power-play it's so good.

-my days might be numbered but so are Rin's

-sunlight and shadow motif with nuance is always sm fun. me when characters are bright and carcinogenic. me when characters are invisible, shadows dogging their own steps, silent and beaten-down and elegant all the same. yeah

-“I’ll be right outside, baby-- baby.”" worst day of my fuckass life too tbh, that's the line that really clicked the whole fic in place for me. kiva loves him but not enough to change him. baby boy good luck taking care of yourself. etc

-dog motif harasaeons you will always be famous

-clean clay and also the oldest sigils Mary paints on Rin are cuneiform if that wasn't clear. mesopotamian aesthetic goes hard

-Mary DOES kinda gag Rin lmao. she's literally so Kanut-coded I can't stand her. she's like 'i won't throw hands with a child but i will permanently invert his worldview with some moderately harsh words and also disrespect the queen if it means showing him that there's someone who supports his evolution wholeheartedly'

-he cannot ask drako!!! grief is something the harasaeons can't stand i think. kiva ignores rin like an open would because she grieves him and lilla. willem is given the same treatment

-"would you still love me if i was a worm" is a tonal shift I wasn't sure about but I think it works. something about siblings defaulting to poking fun at each other when they can't stand the truth. their love must go either unspoken or mocked. they can only survive it with a little humor and a little grace

-rin is the nerd of all time and i love him for it

-i'm gonna be so real death-shadow meaning ghost is something i stole wholesale from Mando'a. like the language for star wars mandalorians. but yknow what the concept fucks hard and george lucas doesn't own the literal mistranslations of his peripheral conlangs

-"It’s just that a firstborn is a war." harasaeons when they have to decide between an insane warmongering eldest daughter and literally anyone else

-yes i did put the epic of gilgamesh in there. yes i was browsing Amazon Goodreads for good quotes in the middle of my economics class. dw about it

-drako asking 'will you be okay' IS how we feel when you drop the saddest lore of all time on us unprompted, yeah x

-Lugalia and-- who? The queen is dead. Long live the queen. It is a form of immortality. Rin shattered it." me when Rin ending the cycle could have been construed as a positive ending to the cycle of generational trauma and violence but instead it is a betrayal to his heritage

-"is love a form of magic" is also one of the central lines of the piece. i wanted to show the deep childlike core of Rin's pain. Tell me a story about how it ends where you're still the good guy I'll make pretend cause I hate this story where happiness ends and dies with you I thought good guys get to be happy I'm not happy. etc. you know how it is

tysm!!!!

[your-divine-ribs]

No Nut November Part 4

Words: 2.2k

Van gets caught breaking the rules 🤭 // whoops I just missed Smutty Sunday but here ya go anyway // promise to post something sweet tomorrow xx

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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

You enter the kitchen, flicking on the kettle, then proceed to go through the motions of making a cup of tea. You're not actually thirsty... well, not for tea anyway, but it's a habit, something that you do to pass the time when you're waiting. And you need to wait.

Precisely eight minutes have passed since you put the wheels of your plan into motion and you wonder if that's enough. Van had looked like he was literally going to explode by the time you'd left the room so you need to time this right. You wait a couple more minutes, sipping absentmindedly at your tea before you set it carefully down on to the countertop and begin your slow, quiet ascent back up the stairs, pausing at the top, your ears straining to pick up any sound.

Straight away you hear the spray from the shower raining down on to the base and sides of the bathtub, but your keen ears pick up another noise underneath the pitter-patter of water, the faint sound of quick, erratic breathing. You smile to yourself that your ingenious plan seems to be working out exactly as you predicted, mightily pleased as you tip-toe to the bathroom door and press your ear up against the wood. The breaths are coming more urgently now, punctuated by surprisingly loud sensual moans which make your insides somersault in anticipation. Despite Van quite blatantly albeit sneakily breaking the terms of your challenge he still can't bring himself to be quiet. He's even left the bathroom door partially open, and you wonder why he wouldn't be more surreptitious in his endeavours to relieve himself.

You ponder for a moment whether he actually wants to be caught in the act but then you think... who are you kidding? Of course he does. Much as his stubborn demeanour sees him loathe to lose any kind of challenge usually, you'd seen the lustful intrigue in his eyes whenever you'd taunted him about his so-called 'punishment'. The way his submissive side shone through whenever you dared to take control. He wants this, you know he does.

So you're not subtle in your actions, choosing to push the door back fully on its hinges in one swift motion as you burst through the bathroom door. Just as expected you uncover Van in all of his slippery-wet naked glory under the spray, one hand braced against the shower screen and the other wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, face full of shock and a hefty helping of shame at being discovered losing the challenge you'd set for him only ten days previously.

"Shit!" He curses out, his hand instantly falling away as he looks at you with wide, seeking eyes. "Babe I can explain... I wasn't going to..."

"Save it Van!" You smirk back at him smugly, hands on hips as you look down on his painfully hard cock before you let your eyes trail slowly up his naked frame to meet his defeated expression. "10 days! 10 fucking days! I thought you said you could do this easily."

"Yeah well, what do you expect? I've just had to watch you get yourself off like a bloody pornstar! I'm absolutely gagging for it! I've never been so fucking turned on in all my life!"

He looks half ruined already, his cheeks and upper chest bearing that telltale flush that stains his skin when he's aroused, his eyes dark and hooded, glimmering with a longing that practically has you squirming where you stand as your head floods with thoughts of what you want to do to him.

You smile at him seductively whilst you casually lean against the doorframe, pausing thoughtfully like you're considering his fate. "So... it looks like you lost the challenge then..."

"But I didn't... I haven't actually..." he protests, trailing off as you raise an eyebrow suggestively, your lips pulled into a salacious pout with the promise of what might await him if he complies. All of a sudden he doesn't seem quite so keen on winning this, his intrigue getting the better of him as he backtracks a complete 180 degrees. "Well... I guess you could say the intention was there... I suppose you're the winner love... I mean, it's only fair isn't it?"

That raises a triumphant smile in you as you push yourself off the door frame. "Yes, I am the winner. And I'll definitely be claiming my prize..."

"So what..." he clears his throat, raises a hand to absentmindedly ruffle the hair at the nape of his neck, usually a nervous gesture you note. "What you... errr... got planned for me then?"

"As if I'm going to tell you!" You snigger, shaking your head, thoroughly enjoying this. "I don't want to spoil the surprise, do I? You'll find out soon enough."

His face creases as he lets out a nervy chuckle. "Shit Y/N, you're gonna be the death of me ya know!"

"I'm not planning on doing anything that drastic!" You laugh, finally stepping back. "And anyway, I won't make you wait to find out. I'll be waiting for you in the bedroom so don't be long."

Van's eyes widen comically. "Wha... you mean... NOW?"

You can't help but laugh at the way he says the last word, nerves and excitement all rolled into one, his face eager but cautious in perfect combination.

"Yes NOW!" You reply, emphasising it yourself, turning away but pausing before you leave the room, looking back over your shoulder. "Oh... and don't bother getting dressed either."

You thought you'd be self-conscious wearing the risqué new lingerie that you'd purchased from the adult toy website, but to your delight it fits you perfectly, hugging and accentuating your curves in all the right places. You appraise your reflection in the mirror as you pull up the lace top stockings, feeling like a million dollars. You know Van won't take long showering and drying himself off, eager beyond belief to find out what his fate is and you're just as keen to see his reaction. You know that his eyes are going to pop out of his head when he finally emerges and sees you.

You pick up one of the metal handcuffs from the bed, dangling it casually off your index finger, positioning yourself next to the bed, heart pumping with exhilaration just in time for Van's entrance.

"Woah..."

His voice is quiet but awe-filled as he comes to an abrupt stop in the doorway, open-mouthed, his eyes raking slowly up and down your body appreciatively. Then his gaze slips down to the bed and he does a double take when he sees the small selection of restraints piled there, swallowing hard.

"Fucking hell, should I be scared?"

You giggle lightly, swinging the cuff around on your finger playfully as Van's eyes follow your every move with nervous precision. "Don't look so bloody terrified. I'm not exactly gonna torture you, am I?"

"I don't know love, you tell me," he grins, edging further into the room. "I don't know what weird kinky shit you're into, do I? You do know I don't have a very high pain threshold, don't you?"

A huge laugh bursts from you at this like a snort. "I'm not going to hurt you! Fucks sake, I'm not a sadist! Look... just trust me okay? This is all about trust. There's just something I want to try. I think you'll like it but if you don't you can just say so. We'll have a safe-word. If you say Green you're all good and if you say Red it means stop... okay?"

He looks surprised. "You got this all worked out, huh? You must have been giving it a lot of thought."

"Uh-huh," you smile, and he moves even closer to the bed, picking up a leather cuff and scrunching his face up a little before chucking it back down, pushing his damp hair back off his face and nodding, rolling his shoulders like he's limbering up.

"Okay... so I'm all yours then... I guess."

"Get on the bed then," you instruct, your heart starting to race. "And lose the towel," you add quickly, delighted with how eager Van looks as he sheds the towel wrapped around his hips in a swift motion before clambering on to the bed, pausing as he looks at you, asking you if you want him on his back or his front.

"On your back... for now..."

You purposefully inject a note of mystery at the last two words, your head flooded with a particular purchase that's stashed right at the back of your dressing table drawer. You don't plan on introducing it today, but if Van's as down for being dominated as you suspect it could well be making its debut soon.

To be honest you'd gone to town a little on your internet shopping spree, adding items to your basket that you never would have dreamed of buying before, shocking yourself that acts that would have previously had you cringing are now filling you with a desirous intent so strong that you're starting to wonder how you ever felt shy about the idea of taking control in your sexual encounters.

"Okay babe... I'm ready... I think," Van mutters, lying on his back on the bed, stark bollock naked, craning his neck to watch as you slowly step forward, raking your eyes hungrily over him as you go, ramping up the tension.

"Did you make yourself come in the shower?" You say, eyes drawn to his dick before they travel back up to his face, gauging his reactions.

"No!" He says quickly, and you study his expression, satisfied that he's being truthful. Van's not a very good liar at the the best of times, and you think that he'd find it impossible to pull off a lie successfully now. He looks so vulnerable lying there spread out perfectly on the soft cotton sheets for you. He's slightly propped up on the pillow, his skin slightly flushed and a little dewy from the shower, his blue eyes wide as he looks up at you like you can make all of his dreams come true.

"Good boy," you purr seductively as you climb on to the bed, and he swallows thickly like he's struggling to breathe. You smirk widely to yourself, slinking over to him in a feline fashion on your hands and knees before straddling his slender waist. Then you bend to lean over him, gripping one of his wrists which you quickly snap a metal cuff over, securing it tightly. "But I think you've been bad today..."

"Fucking 'ell..." he utters under his breath, shakily as you feel his warm breath tickling your neck as you lean over him. The cuff makes a loud click as you snap the other end over the metal frame of the headboard and then you hear it rattling as he pulls and tests the restraint. You work quickly, securing his other wrist so his arms are outstretched before you spin around on the bed, swiftly cuffing one of his ankles and fastening that tightly to the bed post.

"Christ love, I'm not gonna be able to move," he croaks out, a nervous laugh bubbling up.

"That's the idea," you tell him, keeping your voice low and measured. "Bad boys don't get to do what they want..." You pause for effect so Van can hear you click the fourth and final cuff in place, the sound of his fate being sealed. "And you've been so very bad... haven't you Van?"

"Uh-huh," he breathes, quickly and ragged. "I've been bad... really bad."

You've never seen him like this before, so completely in awe of you and totally submissive, soft and pliant. You can clearly see his excitement tinged with nerves, his shallow erratic breaths and the flush in his cheeks. His dick's already hard again, standing proud, a small bead of pre-cum glistening on the tip before you've even touched him.

You crawl back up the bed to him, running a hand over his chest, pausing to feel his heartbeat skittering wildly under your palm.

"You look so good like this," you tell him, raising your hand to stroke his cheek, gently. He nuzzles into your palm, eyes wide and adoring as he looks back at you. "So gorgeous, and you're all mine to do whatever the fuck I want with."

He curses lowly under his breath, shifting on the bed, tugging lightly on his restraints. "So... what... errr... what are ya gonna do to me then?"

You smile sweetly at him, marvelling at how much you're relishing this, the combination of your power over him and his complete submission, your head running wildly with wicked thoughts. You let a fingernail run lightly down his jaw, pausing under his chin to tip his head up so he'll meet your sultry gaze head on.

"Looks like you got yourself all worked up..." you pause, eyes darting down to his cock which twitches slightly, begging to be touched. Back up to his face. "I suppose you'd like to come..."

"Uh-huh," he nods eagerly, too eagerly. God, you're going to enjoy this.

"Oh baby," you whisper, leaning in to plant a soft, chaste kiss on his lips before drawing back to look down on him again. "You'd better get comfortable then... because it's going to be a long morning for you..."

Read Part 5