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#so I can deal with shit better but at this rate
yatiso · 2 years
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Hey I was just peaking at the reblogs for my addition bc I did not expect it to pick up any kind of traction but then it did dhjsks anyways I want to clarify that when i said its not the artists fault what I meant (and didnt say bc I felt it was a whole other discussion oops thats on me) is that its the labels fault. Recording labels are notoriously nefarious in how they exploit artists and i didnt wanna blame all artists for that (tho some are def part of the problem as a whole they are not imo). I hope that clears things up and I enjoyed reading ur thoughts!!!
omg when i was typin up those tags i was literally hoping op wouldnt read bc it came off so cunty >~< im not upset at you im just really passionate! record labels ARE notoriously horrible but i rlly feel like if an artist has a backbone they can figure out SOMETHING ya know! is a painter a painter if they only paint what and how and when theyre told to? is an ai algorithm that produces something that makes u think of a painting based on what you feed it a painter? no! it might be interesting, might be cool— but theres no substance to it, intrinsically— the art aspect would come from the person putting in the keywords or the viewer (art is in the eye of the beholder, but art isnt art without some sort of soul.) would u want to only see ai paintings forever? would you get bored with meaning strictly coming from how you perceive it and knowing that thats the case? or would you start to crave something created by a real person? record labels are horrible and theyre seemingly doing just that with music! but i feel like if its not common knowledge that record labels are rancid rotten… then im not sure what is! i think with such an in flux of Artists that are more Face than talent, and with Influencer becoming a dream job for every one their kids and their mom, if someone that is Not an artist decides to try make it big as a musician for fame (or sells out for the maintenance/continual acquisition of fame) then i think theyre also to blame and theyre gonna get (and according to the streams, are getting) whats coming to them ya kno. (note that im not saying Bad Artists, music is subjective but i think its very easy for ppl to recognize on some bare minimum level when someone famous/trendy that puts music out that doesnt have a musical bone in their body, or a vision/idea to express truly) like its late and ive been up since 6 am so im passionate but the adderall is wearing off so im not sure how much sense this makes, but an artist, i feel regardless of most situations, is responsible for what they put out, especially with how easy it is to do the work of a record label pretty much on your own now.
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orcelito · 1 year
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Ok there r some pretty big things I wanna fix with the first chapter of ITNL, but I don't rly have the brain for that. Putting it on the backburner.
Might fuck around with chapter 2 tho. Just maybe.
#speculation nation#itnl shit#desperately need a revamp for chapter 1 bc it's good at its core but it was also written and posted all in one day#and U can tell. a lot of early itnl was like that.#man at this rate im treating the fic as a whole like a WIP chapter#aka im going to be going thru it all and doing incremental changes and touch ups#all in this separate doc. current version of itnl will remain until i have it all smoothed out#ill let u guys know when i actually get around to doing the mass edit changes#again im not changing the overall structure of the story. just addressing some internal inconsistencies#and canon innacuracies#so like itnl is good as it is but im going to make it Better.#the perfectionist in me is showing its colors lol. but 75k isnt that big of a deal to edit tbh#especially since everything's already passed the general grammar and wording edits#taking things from passable to Great#yes this is making itnl 15 take longer than otherwise. but i think itll be worth it.#given that ive recently reread trimax in its entirety#there are a lot of things i remember better. so a lot of things to fix with itnl.#plus im in a better state of mind to dig my fingers into the grit of it and write things Well#getting back into the ITNL story by improving it so that it's the best it can be.#which will get me back into the groove of it. so when it comes time to write itnl 15#im going to be a well-oiled machine. and i can churn out something that does the chapter justice.#this is a major turning point of the story. i Have to do it justice.#all i ask is that readers be patient. xoxoxo love y'all
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yuuminni · 1 year
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ok im done with the femblem engage game i think. (lying).
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leqonsluv3r · 6 months
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Thoughts on a ‘the bodyguard’ AU with leon and reader BUT!!!! Reader is a superstar who is much more “sexualized” and basically records soft porn for their music videos. at first leon thinks he's going to deal with another girl who thinks shes all hot shit only to find out shes bound by contract and only wanted to sing and preform not do.. this. But shes wary of Leon bc she thinks Leon thinks can get her in bed.
Even better.. if shes a virgin… 👀
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re4 bodyguard!leon kennedy x famous!fem reader
— a oneshot (request)
warnings: MDNI, 18+, virgin reader (but not naive or inexperienced), leon being a big soft bodyguard, reader has insecurities, some mentions of body issues, mentions of anxiety around cameras, readers parents are assholes, everyone that’s not leon or reader is kind of an asshole (sorry), mentions of masturbating, praise, pet names (baby, sweet girl, etc), small age gap (reader is 21 & leon is 27), lots of kissing & praise, aftercare, soft!dom leon makes another appearance, sub!reader, oral (m receiving), and unprotected sex.
“she wants to argue. wants to refute the idea of even having a bodyguard. it’s ridiculous. even if stepping into a crowd with cameras pushed in her face and flashing lights makes her heart rate increase, not in the way she’d prefer. she waits for him to show up, she doesn’t even know who her agent hired but she’d rather hide and cower in fear then stand at her door like an idiot. finally, a knock at her door. she opens it without a second thought. the most devastating man on the other side of it, her resolve slips as he looks her up and down with a small click of his tongue, “nice to meet you, i’m leon.” and she seems to forget the reason she was arguing to begin with.”
— or reader gets a bodyguard and unknowingly signs up for more then protection in the process
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an: HOLY SHIT UR A GENIUS <333 thank you for the request. i’ve been waiting for this, hopefully you enjoy it. i am a sucker for the bodyguard trope but throw in the fact that she’s a virgin and it’s almost like the bodyguard :,) jesus, y’all are geniuses. i’m sorry that this is so long in advance. take it as a peace offering for taking so long.
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she has no idea what she signed up for.
not in the slightest.
she has no idea who her agent hired for protection but after her stunt last week in front of the paparazzi, she’s willing to bet it’s someone who knows what he’s doing.
after leaving her house last week, going to the strip to shop a little and having a day to herself. she got bombarded by the paparazzi for no reason, other then just simply being in the limelight and having cameras shoved in her direction.
she tried to avoid the millions of people with cameras, flashing bulbs and the annoying click of the cameras lens with their annoying and useless questions. one person in particular got a little too close and…
her anxiety spiked causing her to smack the persons camera out of their hand and cause him sending backwards on the sidewalk with the persons broken camera. she didn’t act rationally, there wasn’t room for that anymore. not when she was as famous as she was.
not when she closed her eyes she could hear the clicking of the cameras and the flashing of the lights and everything but her heart pounding her ribcage ceased to exist.
she hated it, she never wanted to be half-naked on magazine spreads, showing off her body on stage. she just wanted to sing for christ’s sake, wanted to write and preform the songs she’d written for years. but her fucking parents…her stupid agent. she hated all the people around her in her career secretly who made her into some sexualized object for people to gawk and stare at.
she felt like a circus act sometimes, not even a world renowned singer. she hated it, she really hated it. and not to mention, she’s a virgin. it’s like her career and the people around her are mocking her, taunting her with the idea of sex but not letting it within her reach.
it’s not like she still wanted to be a virgin at twenty-one. she didn’t but she couldn’t trust a single soul in her world, in her life that she could even begin to consider sharing that part of herself with.
so as she paced in the foyer of her house, waiting for this so called bodyguard that her agent hired to arrive, she couldn’t help but hate the idea. sure, she had anxiety with cameras and sure, she was unsafe every time she went out because of her status to the public.
and the fact that her agent didn’t even ask her before getting her a body guard, going behind her back and just doing it. another nail in the metaphorical coffin that was sure to send her spiraling one day. she ran a hand over her face and checked her apple watch on her wrist.
she didn’t wanna even think about the person that her agent hired. probably getting her someone who has more muscle mass then brains, and doesn’t think before he shoots a gun. in her case, if that’s it, she could just fire him.
a smile slid onto her face at the prospect, even though she really did need protecting. she just hoped it didn’t come back to bite her in the ass later. that was the last thing she needed in her already hectic life.
the doorbell rang and she smoothed out her yoga pants and baby tee, going to open the door. almost waiting to be disappointed when she opened the large piece of wood. but to no avail, she opened it and on the other side stood the most devastatingly handsome man she had ever laid her eyes on.
he seemed to be eyeing her the same way she was with him, she was suddenly very self conscious about her choice of clothing. almost wanting to run back up the stairs to her bedroom to change, his hard blue eyes scanning her from her feet to her eyes like he was analyzing her.
“nice to meet you, i’m leon.” he says with a small ghost of a smile on his features, she swallows and doesn’t know why she forgets her name all of a sudden. this cannot be her bodyguard, please tell me this is her agents idea of a cruel prank.
she nods and says her name, barely getting the words out. she tries to regain the confidence that she had before she opened the door, but it’s lost and she can no longer find it. “i know who you are,” he says with a small chuckle, “i’m sorry i’m late. they wouldn’t let me in at the gates.” he says with a small sigh as if reliving the moment in his head.
she side steps and lets him in, “yeah,” she laughs nervously as she watches him step past her and into her house. “they’re kind of paid to keep people out, not let them in.” she says with a small laugh that sounds nothing like herself. she shuts the door behind them both, letting him look around the interior of her house.
“i suppose their just doing their job then.” he says with a small amused click of his tongue as he moves through the entryway of her house. she stands behind him awkwardly, taking him in while he’s not looking.
he has to be six feet tall at least, or close to it. the suit he’s wearing doesn’t do him enough justice, his muscles are barely straining underneath the fabric. and how he smells…he’s like a cooling mix of mint and some other fragrance she can’t get a handle on.
“i suppose they are.” she says awkwardly as she makes her way past him and trails herself into the kitchen, letting him follow behind her. his shoes thudding against the hardwood polished flooring, making her heart pick up for a different reason entirely.
she grabs a drink from her fridge, trying to distract her brain and her eyes from the gorgeous man a few feet away from her. “would you like a drink?” she asks with a small nervous smile, keeping her eyes trained on the interior of the fridge rather than him. god, he just made her wet. just his presence was enough to make her feel horny.
he shakes his head, waving a hand dismissively, “i’m alright.” she nods and grabs a soda for herself out of her fully stocked fridge and shuts it behind her, cracking the soda and taking a sip. she manages to take a peek at him, he’s still looking around her house.
what could be so interesting about her house? she thinks to herself as she shifts on her feet, just watching him as she leans against her marble counter and sips her soda. his eyes seem to catch a piece of art in the kitchen, that was one of the perks about being subjected to being famous.
the art and things she had acquired, she had collected some pieces like trophies. just to prove to herself that not every part of being famous and having a lot of money was so terrible.
“you like art?” she asks softly as she shifts behind him, sipping on her soda again. she watched his blue eyes trace over the contours of the canvas in the kitchen. she just watches him take it in and devour it with his eyes.
she was kinda jealous of the painting.
just for a split second before he spoke and snapped her out of it, “i have a taste for it.” he says demurely, looking back over at her and away from the art. “so,” he eyes her up and down with those glacier blue eyes.
she swallows and shifts on her feet, looking back at him. “so?” she says with a small nervous smile. he sighs, “things are gonna be different from now on and i’m assuming you know that.” he says with a small brow raise, sticking his hands in his slack pockets.
she swallows and nods, “yeah, uhm, probably. my agent said that she gave you a rundown of everything that’s been going on.” she says nervously as she drinks more of her soda again and ducks her down for a split second. meeting his eyes was dangerous, it was like he could see right through her.
“exactly.” he clicks his tongue and moseys through the large kitchen, almost like he’s inspecting it as he talks, “i’m going to be with you all the time. i’ll escort you to places, even public outings that are simple. not another paparazzi fiasco will happen when i’m around.” he says firmly but his tone was gentle and smooth.
her cheeks blush a deep shade of scarlet, “you…heard about that?” she swallows as she looks back up at him from where he stood on the opposite side of her kitchen. he nods, a ghost of a smirk on his face, “who didn’t hear about that?” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice.
she had to give him that, it was on every publication after it happened. saying that she was violent towards the press when she simply just freaked out. cameras being shoved in her face, the flashing lights, the clicking of lenses, she hated it.
“that will never happen again, paparazzi will be controlled and away from you. put to a minimum, i’ll make sure of that.” he said with a tap of his fingers to the countertop of her kitchen. she sighs and nods, her mouth dry at just his presence alone. “i’ll protect you, okay? you’ve got nothing to worry about.” he said firmly.
she found comfort in leon’s words, more comfort then she should. she liked him already, maybe a little too much.
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two weeks later, it was proving harder and harder to be around leon. she liked his presence, he was gentle and he never scolded her. he didn’t put pressure on her like everyone else did. he was simply doing his job and protecting her, like he was hired to do.
but she couldn’t ignore certain things about him, things that made her core heat up. he would always have his fingers splayed out on his thighs when he sat, and it was hard to not let her mind wander around. just imagining his hands on her, rubbing over her skin and coaxing noises out of her.
then there was the matter of him coming to her shoots, he would always keep his eyes trained on her. and seeing him and his eyes on her when she was basically wearing nothing for a shoot, it was beyond torture and it was like having another piece of sex dangled in front of her that she couldn’t have.
over time, in the next two weeks, she kept doing it for him. usually she’d have to fake acting sexy, fake her confidence but with his eyes on her. his blue irises trailing every movement, it was so easy to just pretend it was the two of them, fantasize for a small moment. it was the only way she got through shoots anymore.
as another week passed, then another, the constant presence of leon whether she went shopping was there. he was always watching her, watching other people. his gaze was so gentle, so firm and yet so cold. like he could snap someone’s neck with just a simple look. it was exciting and thrilling, making her uncomfortably aroused.
and whenever that happened, she went home, dismissed him for the day and went to her bedroom. she would slide her hand down her pants and just fantasize about him, his strong hands, his sharp jaw and the way his tone sometimes became gentle out of nowhere.
she would imagine that maybe one day, he would bend her over her kitchen counter, fuck her until she was a crying mess. he’d be gentle, but also rough and firm when it counted. she imagined all these things with her hands rubbing at herself.
it was becoming so unbearable to just be in his presence these days, he was just doing his job but it was so annoying. so annoying to be a virgin still and have a piece of eye candy basically follow you everywhere and always have his eyes on you.
the universe was taunting her again with her career, with her fame and she deeply despised it. she hoped secretly that she would just be put out of her misery sooner. she didn’t wanna be a virgin anymore.
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one day, after hours at a shoot and grueling work, she went back to her house. leon escorted her back and she dismissed herself to go shower and clean up.
she needed to wash the filth of her career off of her body in one way or another. she fucking hated that she was forced into doing something by her parents and agent just so she could make money.
money was not everything. that was a proven fact.
after she showered, changed her clothes and did her skincare routine. she went downstairs, going into the kitchen to grab a soda. she needed calories, she didn’t give a fuck anymore. her mom, her dad and her agent could all shove it.
“a soda? it’s 4pm?” leon said from behind her at the island, his suited muscular body sitting on a stool and scrolling on his phone. she sighed, popping the can of soda open with a hiss, “your not my keeper. i can drink soda.” she says with a small frown.
“i personally don’t care what you do as long as it’s safe. i was just making an observation.” he says with a small ghost of a smirk down at his phone. why does he have to be so hot, this isn’t fair. she thinks to herself as she sips on her soda and nods.
“sorry, i’m just…” she starts and walks towards the marble island that separated them in the lavish kitchen. “i just don’t like being told what to do in every aspect of my life, i get a little touchy.” she says with a small sigh, brushing her damp hair over her shoulder.
he sits his phone down on the island, looking at her, “who tells you what to do? your parents?” he says with furrowed brows, he was almost confused. like he couldn’t understand why a 21 year old like herself was getting bossed around and told what to do.
“try my parents, my agent, and all of the people i employ.” she says with a small frown as she sips on her soda, looking down at the marble counter top of the island.
he sighs and shifts on the stool he’s perched on, “they’re all controlling?” he asks with a small look of confusion on his lovely features. she swallows back a little bit of her nerves, “i didn’t want this.” she says honestly.
she doesn’t feel like she has to hide everything from him all the time, not after he’s been around her a month, almost two. “i didn’t want to be…this.” she gestures to the house around him, she looked up at him and unflinchingly met his strong blue gaze.
she continued, “all i’ve ever wanted was to do things my way. my career, my life. i have never had a choice. my parents, my label and my agent have all made sure of that.” she feels her mouth drying up as she continues to speak. like all the things that have been pent up were pouring out of her.
and leon just listened, nodding when he wanted to or when it was needed. he wasn’t being paid to be her therapist, or anything other then her bodyguard. but he was listening, he was understanding her. her frustrations and the things that made her tick, made her upset.
“so let me get this straight.” he says after she explains and basically rants to him, raising a hand as his eyes shut in frustration and in something that border-lined on concern.
“you’ve just wanted to sing, to write music and preform. but your parents, your label and…your agent they’ve all made you into this sex symbol just because of the money?” he says with a small open to his blue eyes again, they were so powerful and untouchable, just like him. no wonder he was her bodyguard.
she nods with a dry mouth, sipping on her soda again, forgetting it was beside her on the counter. “pretty much.” she said with a sad laugh, shifting on her bare feet against the cool tile of the kitchen.
his face took on one of frustration, sadness and he almost looked pained. he didn’t pity her, didn’t say sorry. he just pressed his lips together into a line, “your they’re daughter.” he says in a cold tone.
it’s one she had never heard before but it had an affect, the shiver up her spine beneath her clothes. the goosebumps on her arms and the pulsing of her clit. it was having an affect.
she closes her eyes for a beat, blowing out some air and just said, “i know.” and she accepted it. she had accepted it for a while now, that maybe some things were just never going to change.
and she was just going to be expected to live with it.
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the revelation to leon had brought forth changes, changes that she didn’t ever know she needed. and she should’ve done it sooner, told someone on the outside that had no idea who she was what she desired, what she longed for.
freedom.
he was different now, he was more…attentive.
he would stick by her side until the very last second at shoots, music videos, anything that required her to be half naked. he was there, standing right beside her.
he would even encourage her, whisper things when her makeup crew or clothing people weren’t around. he was even rubbing his hand over her elbows, shoulders and a firm hand on her lower back to steer her.
people wrote it off as him just being a very good and protective bodyguard. but they both knew deep down that things had shifted between them.
it was almost friendship, almost, except for the longing deep in her gut. his touches were innocent but would make her body pulse and her skin heat. it was dangerous to be so close to him sometimes.
she couldn’t doubt that if someone were to take her virginity, she’d want it to be him. she’d imagine often how gentle he would be, yet domineering like he was in his role as her bodyguard.
she had no doubt in her mind that if the opportunity ever presented itself, she’d have to take it.
she’d let him, the thought didn’t petrify her anymore. he had not spoken to a soul about what she shared about her career, about her life and what she really and truly wanted. she knew she could trust him.
she’d just have to wait and deeply hope that he’d try something, anything that she could latch onto where he was concerned.
she was too fucking nervous to make the first move, she didn’t know what that would even be? kiss him? palm his erection? she’d had sexual encounters before but they never went below the belt.
but she knew that she had just as much impact on him as he did with her. she had seen that subtle shift in the next two weeks after she had confided in him in the kitchen.
his stare lingered on certain parts of her body for far too long to be considered friendly. she never caught his stare, she wanted him to look. and it felt good to be practically eye-fucked by him, it gave her a sense of confidence that she’d never had before.
it was freeing.
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one day, she was feeling like a taut rubber band. like every gentle touch and feeling of him being in her vicinity was driving that feeling in between her legs in agony.
it physically pained her from how aroused she was, her nipples were hard in her bra and she felt like she was going to burst into flames if he delicately touched her elbow or any part of her skin again.
it was torture.
she felt like she needed at least to masturbate like a hundred times before the feeling ended. before she could ease that ache, she was just sitting in her bedroom, watching her flatscreen on the wall mounted in front of her.
she rubbed her thighs together, she was hoping to soothe the ache there. she bites her lip until it could almost bleed.
she wasn’t expecting leon to still be here, she was waiting for him to go home like he did everyday, waiting for him to leave her. she was almost desperately waiting just so she could stick her hand in between her legs and satisfy the ache there.
but no, he looked in the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe. she kept her eyes locked on the tv, but she could feel his glacier like gaze on her. she kept her back leaned against the headboard, pressing her thighs together as she watched the tv show in front of her.
“i thought you went home already?” weak excuse and question on her part, she didn’t know if she wanted him to go so she could alienate the ache herself or if she wanted him to stick around to see where this might lead.
he chuckled lowly and shook his head, “nah, sorry pretty girl. i’m sticking around a little later. why so urgent for me to leave?” he says with a small raise of his brow in her direction.
pretty girl? fuck me. she thinks to herself as she sputters for an answer, her lips parting. “uhm, i just…i’m not urgent. you…you just usually are gone by now.” she says softly as she looks at him, meeting his gaze.
she presses her thighs together on instinct even though it did nothing to get rid of the dripping tension in her panties.
“oh? so it’d have nothing to do with you touching yourself now would it?” he says with a almost feline smile, she felt her eyes go wide and her body freeze. how the hell did he know about that?
“i-i…” she tries to speak, to ignore the way her cheeks were heating up in embarrassment or the way her lower stomach churned with arousal that he knew.
“i heard you last week after you thought i left.” he says lowly as he slowly saunters into her room a little more, rounding the bed until he was standing at the very end of the queen mattress, his gaze trained on her, his movements almost primal.
she would almost pinch herself, she had to be dreaming. this wasn’t real, it couldn’t be real.
“i-“ she tried to speak again, to justify what he heard, to maybe get some kind of excuse or explanation out. he stopped her again, planting one of his hands on the surface of her mattress. “you moaned my name.” he says in a dark voice, his eyes practically eating her alive.
she felt naked under his gaze, felt her skin shiver and heat up within the same breath as she parted her lips a little.
“so tell me, pretty girl, what about me turns you on enough to where you feel the need…to stick your hands down into your pants and cum all over your fingers?” he says with a small predatory raise of his brow, he leans back and rounds to her side of the bed on her mattress.
she couldn’t think of just one thing to answer his question, she had so many things. so many things that she could say but the lust and arousal in her underwear was fogging her virgin brain. “everything.” she breathed out as she looked up at him as he stood above her on where she was sitting on her bed.
he licks his lips and his pupils dilate a little bit, “everything, huh?” he says with a smirk, sitting down on the bed by her. his hand resting on her knee, rubbing small circles on the skin there, causing goosebumps to crawl up her legs and make in between her legs pulse.
“yes.” she breathes softly, almost gasping for air. this sounds nothing like her, so desperate and wanting. this was the opportunity and she had to take it, she moved forward as she met him, her face so close to his as his hand went up from her knee up to her thigh, gently squeezing and rubbing.
“go ahead, baby.” he said in a low rasp as he saw her looking between his beautiful blue eyes and his pink lips. she licked her own lips and nodded slowly, almost in a trance. he was giving her permission, he was letting her kiss him.
she moved her head forward and pressed her lips to his, softly moving her lips against his as his grip on her thigh got tighter. the kiss started to heat up, his tongue started moving against hers and she grasped at his shirt, her small hands grasping the fabric like a tether as they continued to sloppily make out.
she couldn’t find it in herself to care as the tv show went on and played softly in the background as she kept kissing him. she was desperate and trying to subtly get him closer to her, trying to pull herself on-top of him.
he caught onto that, letting her move onto him, straddling his lap as she felt his bulge rub up against the hem of her shorts. she came up for air but kept kissing him, his hands holding onto her hips in a gentle but firm grip. she wasn’t going to be moving anymore or going anywhere.
finally, he pulled away and rasped near her ear, “tell me what you want? hmm, pretty girl? what can i give you?” he whispers against the skin of her ear in a soft rasp.
she shivers and lets out a small whine, “i want…want…” she breathes and she’s desperate, she moves her hips down against his erection, trying to get him close to her.
“you want my cock pretty girl?” he says softly in her ear, rubbing the soft skin in between her shirt and shorts, down to her ass, cupping both cheeks in his hands and squeezing. the words going into her ear and drifting around like music to her ears.
she mewls, his hands on her ass making her press down on his hardened erection more. she nodded slowly and licked her lips, he pulled his head away a little to fully look at her face. her lips were puffy and swollen from their kissing, her eyes hazy and diluted with lust.
“where do you want it?” he rasps softly as he moves on of his hands from her ass to cup her chin, his thumb rubbing over her bottom lip. “you want it in your mouth?” he says with a soft smirk, completely 180 from before.
he then doesn’t give her a chance to respond or react before he moves his hand down to her shorts, cupping in between her legs. “or in that pretty pussy you have?” he says. she whines and tries to move against his hand, he tuts her and moves his hand away. “choose baby, i’m being patient.” he whispers in a low rumble.
“both.” she mumbles in a small heave of breath, her chest rising and falling beneath her shirt fast. his eyes dilate more if it’s even possible, she can barely see the blue in his eyes anymore.
he licks his lips, she could feel his dick twitch in his pants beneath her, she held back a whine and swallowed. “mmm, both? i think that can be arranged, princess.” he says softly as he looks at her with a soft grin.
she feels her panties get wetter if it was even possible at this point. he seems to toss the idea around in his brain for a second, one hand still squeezing her ass and the other rubbing over her stomach over her shirt.
“get naked, baby. then get on your knees.” he says in a soft demand. she shakily climbs off of him, his hands falling away as her feet hit the ground of her bedroom in front of him. she keeps eye contact with him as she moves her hands to the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head.
her skin kissing the cool air of the room, her nipples hardening further beneath the material of her bra. he keeps his eyes on her the whole time, practically devouring her with just a simple gaze.
that was incentive enough to continue doing what he said, the promise of what she was going to do after she got naked made her tremble in arousal a little.
she slipped off her cotton shorts next, letting them pathetically fall to the floor by her feet and her discarded shirt. and now was the time when he would see everything, he wouldn’t see the version that he’d seen before.
he’d see all of her in her purest form, so raw and real that it almost made her legs shake where she stood. he nodded once at her, silently telling her to continue.
she licked her lips and reached behind her, unclasping her bra like she’d done this a million times before. she lets the material fall to the floor again with the rest of her discarded clothes. she could’ve sworn she heard him groan when he saw her breasts.
she didn’t give him much time to recover as she stripped her underwear down her legs and was completely barren and standing before him.
he muttered a ‘fuck’ beneath his breath and grabbed a pillow from her bed, sitting it on the ground in front of his legs. she’d given blow jobs before, but nothing like this.
nothing like leon looking at her like she was the only thing that seemed to matter in this moment. this went beyond protection, beyond his job description and beyond anything they both could comprehend.
she got down on her knees in front of him, her knees kissing the pillow as she felt him reach down and cup her chin, bringing her gaze up towards him.
“your in good hands now, pretty girl. i’ll give you what you want. and i don’t expect anything in return, okay?” he says with his unwavering gaze locked on hers. she nods in his grip, his thumb going back to her bottom lip and pushing his thumb in between her lips and teeth.
she understands, her arousal pooling messily in between her thighs as she kneels on the pillow before him. she sucks generously on the pad of his thumb, taking the whole thing into her mouth, swirling her tongue on it a little.
“fuck, baby. so messy.” he whispers in a low rasp as he watches in amazement as you suck and lick at his thumb like it was his cock. he pulls it out of your mouth with a small pop, smearing your saliva all over your lips. “so pretty, princess. i promised you my cock.” he muses lowly.
she can’t think or say anything, fearing the only thing at this point to come out of her mouth would be whines and whimpers. he undoes his belt on his slacks, lifting his hips to pull both the boxers and the slacks down to where his cock springs free against his stomach.
fuck, even his cock was beautiful. she licked her lips on instinct and saw the little bead of precum at the tip, swallowing her nerves she moved her head over it. pressing a kiss to the tip which made him emit a small noise bordering on a groan and a moan, she kept pressing kisses to the tip before licking at the vein that ran from the base to the head. 
“oh, pretty girl…such a tease.” he drawls in a low panting breath above her. she feels her practically leak down her legs at this point, his words making her clench around nothing.
she licks at the tip before hollowing her cheeks and sucking him into her mouth, her head bobbing slowly. she felt his hands go into her hair and hold her head gently almost guiding her as she kept her mouth and head moving on his cock.
“fuck, just like…fuck…that.” he moans as he looks down at her, her head moving as steadily as she can, raising her hand to stroke what she can’t fit in her mouth. sucking on him like a lollipop, he lightly fists her hair, his nails lightly scratching her scalp.
she moans around his cock, her jaw aching but finding the pain worth it as she keeps trying to pleasure him. she looks up at him, making eye contact as she flutters her lashes, removing her hand and taking all of him into her mouth as she gags softly, ignoring the pain in her jaw and throat.
“oh god…such a dirty girl, you like having my cock in your mouth, baby?” he groans as she fists her hair a little tighter, she nods around his cock, moaning softly against it. he hisses at the feeling.
“so fucking close, princess. gonna cum in that pretty mouth and then…gonna cum in that pretty pussy.” he growls as she keeps up her pace with her head, basically deep throating him as the head of his cock meets the back of her throat.
she could come at just his words alone at this point, her pussy aching painfully and dripping down the inside of her thighs. she is determined at this point to let him finish inside of her mouth, she finds herself actually wanting his cum to slide down her throat.
with just a few more bobs of her head, he’s cumming into her mouth with a loud moan, gripping at her hair. seeing him come apart by just her mouth was enough to make her nerves disappear, he was so wrecked from just her mouth alone and it made her pussy tingle.
she eagerly swallowed his cum, swallowing all of it and pulling away from his cock with a small pop. he reached down with his thumb and wiped some of the saliva and his cum off of her lip and pushed it in her mouth. “mmm, good girl, baby.” he praises.
he gave her a second to gather herself before lifting her softly off of the pillow on the ground and laying her down on the bed. she hits her mattress and her comforter with a soft thud and bounces a little as he stands where she was just kneeling, kicking the pillow to the side by his feet.
he starts unbuttoning his shirt, getting fully undressed and kicking his shoes and socks off. his clothes joining her discarded ones on the floor. he then lets his blue eyes rake over her, looking from how hard her nipples are to the way your pussy is practically leaking onto the sheets below you.
he just can’t help himself, not when your involved. “baby, i’m gonna ask you something and please be honest with me.” he says in a soft but firm voice as he kneels in between her thighs, brushing some of her hair out of her face.
she just nods as she licks her puffy lips, letting him ask his question and giving him the go ahead that it was okay to ask.
“has anyone fucked you? ever?” he says with a small look over her eyes and the way her cheeks heated up to a perfect pink again. she shakes her head, “no, i’m a virgin. i’ve…i’ve done things but ive never…” she trails off and hopes that answer is good enough to satisfy him.
he groans and shakes his head, “jesus, princess.” he says with a low rasp as he leans over and presses a kiss to her cheek. “i’ll have to take extra care of you then, huh?” he says with a small smile against her lips, pressing a delicate kiss there.
she nods slowly, “i’ve trusted you enough to let you.” she whispers as she looks into his blue eyes, they were connected and yet they weren’t. the way his body came over hers and just protected her from the onslaught of nerves that bubbled beneath the surface.
his blue eyes soften and he nods slowly, the hand that’s not propping himself up by her head moves to cradle her cheek in a loving manner. “i know, baby. i’m gonna take such good care of you. make sure it’s nice for you.” he says with a ghost of a smile on his divine features.
she nods slowly, keeping eye contact as he reaches in between their naked bodies, grabbing his cock and rubbing it in between her slick and wet folds. she gasps softly when it catches her clit. “if it hurts,” he uses his other hand, balancing back on his knees above her on the bed.
he grabs her hand by her side, using the hand that he’s not stroking himself with to intertwine his fingers with hers. he lifts it by her head and leans forward again, his forehead resting against hers, “you squeeze three times on my hand. okay? and i’ll stop.” he says softly as he just lets his eyes flutter open and shut.
she nods in understanding, he continues to run his cock through her wet folds and coating his cock in her arousal. he presses a soft kiss to her lips and slowly notches the tip of his cock against her entrance.
she bites her lip in anticipation, waiting for the stretch and waiting for the pain that her friends had talked about for their first times. “relax. don’t tense up or it’ll hurt more.” he says softly as if he can read her mind.
she sighs softly against his lips and deeply inhales and exhales, attempting to relax her body and the hot rush of her blood beneath the skin.
he finally sticks the tip into her entrance, the stretch isn’t there yet, she can feel it. she can feel the burning fire in her belly. she doesn’t squeeze his hand that’s intertwined with hers on the bed, she just holds it and waits for him to slide in an inch, then another inch, and the burning is there.
it’s a stretch, it doesn’t hurt…not yet.
he keeps sliding in slowly but surely to make sure she’s okay, make sure she can take him. she takes slow breaths, letting his own mingle with hers in the small space between their lips. she feels him push more until he’s bottomed out within her.
if it wasn’t for his heavy breathing or the little aching stretch in her hymen, she wouldn’t have even known he was inside of her fully. “jesus…god…” he mumbles soft curses as he hovers his lips over hers.
“your pussy is gonna be the death of me. i swear to god.” he mumbles in a low groan as he just stayed still inside of her, the words making her clench instantly around him, he hisses and squeezes her hand, “don’t do that, or i’ll cum.” he grips.
she swallows and tries to ignore how he’s letting her grow accustomed to him inside of her, letting his dick stretch her out and make room for him. after a few minutes and just the sounds of their heavy breathing between them, she nods slowly.
“you can move. i’ll squeeze your hand if…if it hurts.” she manages to get out through a shallowed breath, he nods slowly. taking that as a sign to move his hips that are pressed against hers.
and god, help her. she was going to cum within minutes. the second he moved his hips, pulling out almost all the way and plunging back in, a steady pace that burned only slightly. the burn turned into pleasure as he kept moving his hips at a steady place, her moans soft and echoing through her bedroom.
she needed more, soon enough the heat within her became an insatiable desire. she needed it, craved it and she couldn’t believe she had denied herself of something so amazing for so long.
“deeper…more…” she moaned out as her eyes flutter shut and she gripped his intertwined hand beside her head. he almost growled against her lips, but not denying her, not for one second.
he lifts her legs, putting them around his hips and he grabs a pillow off of her bed, slipping it under her hips and then resuming his movements, only this time it was deeper and harder and he was hitting the spot her own fingers could never reach.
“leon!” she whined as she tilted her head back, he growled into her neck, pressing a kiss on her jaw as he groaned and slapped his hips repeatedly against hers. she’d be so sore tomorrow but it’d be so worth it.
“good…doing so good for me princess.” he says lowly in a whisper against her ear, goosebumps that shattered and battled with the climax rising in her belly. it had never felt like this before, felt so overwhelming and consuming.
she was so full of him, so drunk on his cock and the way it was hitting her g-spot every single time. god, she would build an alter for him after this or give him a raise. he deserved it.
the praise melted her brain and her pussy as she kept her eyes fluttering open and shut, her back arching into his. her hard nipples brushing against his chest as he pumped into her ruthlessly.
“fuck, so fucking…” he groaned into her ear and snapped his hips as if it would kill him if he didn’t make her cum, like it was his life’s mission. she whined, “cum…gonna cum…yes…” she cried loudly as he paused his movements and moved back, letting go of her hand and putting her thighs back until they were flush against her abdomen.
he hooked her ankles over his shoulders, putting her in a mating press and nailing her against the mattress. she almost screamed in pleasure, her skin was hot and she felt like she could burst into flames.
this angle…it was so delicious and she felt her climax get closer and closer…until…
“yes…” she moaned out loudly in a whine, her pussy clamping around his cock and cumming with a shudder, small pitiful noises that sounded nothing like her. he groaned and licked around her jaw and nipped, fucking her through her orgasm to chase his own.
“where do you want me to come baby?” he mumbles into her ear, a low drawl that made her pussy clench more. “inside…” she needed him too, she needed to feel it, just once. just one time.
he nipped at her jaw near her ear, “dirty little princess.” he drawls and she clenched the sheets between her hands beneath her. she whined, he just kept pumping into her, her trembling and shaking body was trying to hold onto the feeling.
“shh, im almost there sweet girl.” he says softly in a rasp as he pumps more and more until finally, he comes inside of her, his body slackening a little bit as if the last bit of his energy has been drained from him.
she can feel the warmth of his cum invading her womb and her pussy, it feels like heaven and she don’t know how she could not want to feel that. she saw him move back, pressing a kiss to her cheek, then her forehead and then her panting and flushed lips. his blue eyes drew back and he brushed some hair out of her face, gentle and tender she leaned into it.
“your all sweaty.” he says with a soft voice as his blue eyes rake over her face and her neck, to her bare collarbones. “here, hold on baby.” he says gently as he leans up onto his knees, carefully pulling his cock out of her entrance with a small pop.
“fuck me…” he mumbled as he looks down at his cum leaking out of her, their combined fluids leaking onto the crevice of her ass. he gently moved the pillow back from under her hips, causing her to mumble a groan.
“shhh, i got you, princess.” he says softly as he moves her legs back down to be comfortable and not pressed against her abdomen anymore. she smiles softly, her body melting into her sheets and comforter.
he gets up and grabs his boxers from the floor, pulling them over his stuff and depleting erection. he walks towards what she assumed was her bathroom attached to her bedroom. he grabbed a washcloth on the side of her sink, wetting it and coming back in.
he just sees her on the bed, her skin flushed and her naked contours against the sheets. she looks so heavenly with that blissed out expression on her face. he smiles and rounds the bed, crawling and bending her legs for her. he wipes the mess they made in between her legs. rubbing over her clit, causing her to hiss an attempt at smacking his hand.
“don’t. i’m just helping clean you up.” he says softly with some small reprimand. she sighs and blinks tiredly, “am i supposed to be so tired?” she asks in a grumble.
he chuckles and nods, “it’s normal.” he says with a small smile in her direction. he grabs the cloth in his hands, grabbing there discarded clothes off the floor, throwing them in her dirty clothes hamper, along with the cloth.
he then goes over to her dresser, pulling it open and one after another until he finds her pj drawer. he grabs her some underwear in the process, walking back over to the bed.
“sit up, baby.” he says gently as he taps her calf, she slowly follows his demand and sits up groggily. she’s pouty now and cute when she’s like this, he finds.
he slips the underwear onto her legs, letting her lift herself into it and putting them on her hips. he dresses her, putting a nightgown over her body. “come on,” he gestures towards the pillows at the head of the bed. she lazily sighs and moves her body until her head is resting on her pillows. he crawls in beside her ontop of the covers, pulling her so she’s half draped over him.
her lazy eyes closing and opening against his bare chest, “are you sore?” he whispers against her head. she shakes her head against his bare chest, “no, just tired.” she mumbles.
he nods and presses a kiss to the top of her head, rubbing a hand up and down her bare arm of the nightgown. “was i good?” she asks after a beat of silence, so quiet he almost didn’t hear her.
“you were beyond good, sweet girl. you were spectacular.” he whispers sweetly in a comforting timbre, his lips hovering over her head. she smiles and nuzzles her head more into his chest, speaking again. “i’m so glad i chose you.” she says before her eyes drift closed against his chest.
something bloomed in his heart, something that he had ignored so many times before in the month and a half he had been working for her.
it was love? wasn’t it? it wasn’t lust. it was something deeper and rawer and it went beyond his comprehension. but as he held her in his arms, he thought one thing: he was happy she had chosen him too.
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an: y’all know the drill, reblog and like. my masterlist and my taglist are linked above at the beginning. pls follow for more, i love you all and i hope this oneshot made up for me taking so long to finally post something. i’m working slowly to get all my oneshots and requests out. i promise. just bear with me <33 i love you all so much, hope you guys enjoyed it all. sorry it’s so long (im not), love u all sm, kisses xx.
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bookshelf-dust · 1 year
Text
kiss it better
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steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 3,176
warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)
a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.
————
The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst. 
You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing. 
You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear. 
“Hello?”
Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat. 
“Hey, it’s me.”
The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.
“Steve?”
Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls. 
You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see. 
“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”
“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”
He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way. 
Steve huffs, frustrated with himself. 
“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily. 
His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is. 
“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.” 
You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them. 
“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be. 
“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”
You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand. 
“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”
————
Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t. 
Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge. 
He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit. 
And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets. 
He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything. 
Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it. 
He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell. 
Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen. 
When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that. 
“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low. 
He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help. 
“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs. 
You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so. 
You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die. 
Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears. 
He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.
You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms. 
Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he? 
You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees. 
“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.” 
“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away. 
You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use. 
One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back. 
“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.” 
He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”
You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze. 
“Hey. Look at me.”
He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath. 
You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.
Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it. 
Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now. 
“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice. 
You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself. 
“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”
He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip. 
By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold. 
You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M’kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?” 
He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”
You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”
His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him. 
“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”
He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.
When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t. 
You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”
“Steve?”
“Huh?”
“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”
His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working. 
“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.” 
You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.
“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”
————
When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left. 
But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand. 
“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”
He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone. 
“Hit me, I can take it.”
You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating. 
“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”
He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”
His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”
Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”
You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”
“Hm?”
“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”
“Yep.”
“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”
Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms. 
He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen. 
Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night. 
Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”
You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”
He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”
“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”
“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”
You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch. 
He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask. 
He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry. 
“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”
Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.
“What?”
“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”
“How come?”
“Because we’re friends.”
“Best friends.”
“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”
His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time. 
“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”
You blink. “Huh?”
Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”
You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch. 
“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands. 
“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”
Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch. 
“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.” 
“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.
He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up. 
Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die. 
You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much. 
Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father. 
You have made him whole. 
He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side. 
“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”
You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!” 
Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face. 
When you pull away, he whines. 
“All better?”
Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again. 
“I’m healed.”
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
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silkscream · 25 days
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bullfight of love
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ੈ✩ choso x reader
ੈ✩ tags: flirting, masturbation, porn watching, vaginal sex, riding, soft sub!choso, 2000s au, coworkers, workplace relationship, film bro stuff
ੈ✩ wc: 4.7k
ੈ✩ a/n: i wanted to write choso being a weirdofreak pervert boy that's all. this is part of my fics for gaza <3 there will be a part two for this. do not ask me about a part two because it's already being made
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Maki could kill you for being late again. Five missed texts, the final exaggerated with periods and exclamation points – and she never used proper spelling, let alone punctuation. It wasn't serious the way she made it out to be. 
Toji never cared about your track record. The bastard was never in the shop anyway, probably high off his ass in whatever shed of a place he lived in. Maki already hated her cousin enough for the rest of the crew, running that stupid video store like it was a real family business. It was a summer job to you and nothing else.
She sighs when she sees you walk through the door, handing you your name tag without a word before fucking off to the storage room to look at the new shipments.
“Don’t give me the silent treatment!” you yell after her. In response, you only get a middle finger, chipped black nail polish with half a skeleton decal hanging on.
It’s always slow on Mondays. Considering the new cinema that opened across the street, it's slow every day. You should’ve taken a job there, scooping buckets of buttered popcorn instead of telling off porn-stached men who continually mistook the shop as the old adult video store. 
You mindlessly watch Reservoir Dogs on the CRTV, shaken by the sudden flood of middle school students paving their way to the used video game section. Fumbling with the remote, you meet a hard-faced Maki once again. 
“You can’t put on Tarantino, dude. Kids are in here.”
“It was already on,” you shrug. 
Maki rolls her eyes and points to a small stack by the register – some John Hughes VHS tapes. Sixteen Candles. The Breakfast Club. Most shit that both of you hated.
“Gotcha.”
“Can you deal with the new kid, today? Toji didn’t scan all the new shit in like he was supposed to last week.”
“New kid?”
“Uh, yeah. Goth-ish. Like he got spit out of a Hot Topic or something,” she snorts. “No hazing.”
“I should be saying that to you.”
She scoffs at you before rushing back. You’d had a crush on her when you started working there, back when she still had an eyebrow piercing before she let it get infected. She had that Silent Hill look about her for lack of better words. Resting bitch face with a raspy pout. 
Your head swims a little, pounding from dehydration. The morning joint didn’t help, either, nor did the fact that you had to train a newbie today. 
It’s quiet after the kids leave, snatching up some forbidden R-rated movie that’ll traumatize them during a basement sleepover. You nearly doze off once the clock hits three, but loud footsteps bring you back to life. 
A boy that couldn’t be much older than you stares into you, narrowed eyes boring into your soul. You see the dark birthmark across his nose first, as if someone had slashed him with a blade in one straight swoop. He smells like cigarettes and his eyes are decorated with some reddish eyeshadow. Either that or he had the complexion of a sickly Victorian child. 
“Hey,” you deadpan. “Can I help you?”
“I’m the new hire,” he says. His voice is low. He reminds you of the goths that would hit on you at high school parties. He's prettier, though. 
You give him a once-over quickly – he’s taller than you expect, for some reason, and you notice the blooming swirls of abstract tattoos peeking from beneath his sleeves.
“You don’t sound so sure about that,” you smirk. 
He rolls his eyes and introduces himself. Choso. You repeat his name, tasting it on your tongue. He has half a mind to shake your hand but pulls away awkwardly. You take note of the silver rings adorning his fingers.
You tilt your head. “I like your, uh, space buns…”
“Uh, thanks,” he narrows his eyes.
“Okay, so… have you ever used a cash register?”
“Yes.”
“Great. That’s basically half the job.”
You show him the ropes – how to make sales and deal with teens. Cash drops and tracking inventory. You ask him what attracted him to the idea of working at a run-down video store and he says he likes movies and easy money. His brother liked the place, too. 
“You got the Human Earthworm series, boss?” he drones, bored.
“Yeah, think so. You like romance-horror or just terrible practical effects?”
He snorts. “My little brother likes it. Wants to have a marathon with me.”
“Cute.”
Hours pass and he’s gotten the hang of it. If anything, there are more customers than usual today, because you suppose that Choso is conspicuous in appearance and the teenage girls that hang around at the food court need something new to play with. 
It stirs something uneasy in your gut, the waft of saccharine perfume in the air. Girls with tongue piercings, lollipops staining their lips as they bend over the counter to talk to Choso. Ripe girls.
They probably thought he could buy them alcohol, take them for a joyride. He’d only offer them an aloof, blank stare in return. It makes you almost giddy. By the time night comes around, you tell them to fuck off like flies.
“Closing time.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Choso mock-salutes, an amused smirk on his lips. Half-lidded eyes like a cat, maybe a stoner, though he didn’t smell like it. You saw him on his break anyway, sipping down an Asahi Super Dry in the back as if you weren’t looking.
He already knew his place, knew that you wouldn’t rat him out. It was the way something flickered in his eyes when you caught him. A taunt, a quiet challenge. 
You watch him count cash. Chipped black fingernails looked odd on his veiny hands like they were painted in a rush by a child. You notice scrawled pen on his pale skin. Smudged phone numbers.
“Getting hit on already?”
He glances at you and shrugs, hiding a smile. “Half were just from bored teenagers. Other half bored single mothers.”
“Any takers?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
You narrow your eyes. 
“Ha. Don’t be jealous.”
“I’m not,” you snort. “As long as we get customers I guess.”
“Oof. You’re cold. You don’t care how I get these people to buy these movies as long as they buy ‘em, huh?”
“You’re not whoring yourself out by being a cashier. Relax.”
He shrugs on his jacket. Crumpled leather, the kind that held the smell of smoke over generations. It made him look like Takuya Kimura in that way, maybe if his hair was down.
He grins when he finds you staring.
“We done for the night, then, boss?”
You roll your eyes at the nickname. “Uh-huh. Night, newbie.”
He smiles sardonically, looking out and noticing the rain. He curses inwardly, knowing that skating home would be a bitch, and the next bus to his side of town wasn’t for another half hour. He clears his throat.
“Leaving already?”
“Yeah. What, don’t have a ride home, kiddo?”
“Fuck off. I’m not a damn kid. I’m just not someone with a car,” Choso mutters dryly. “I work at a movie rental place for a living. I take the bus everywhere.”
“Sucks to suck then,” you smirk, saluting him goodbye. You throw him the keys. “I trust you to lock up then, yeah? See ya.”
He lets out a frustrated scoff but doesn’t bother to convince you, opting to watch you go. Once you’re out of reach, he sighs and turns, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking around the dim store. 
Yuuji was probably out with that sea urchin–haired punk again. He had to remind himself to save up for a car instead of constantly having to share their parents’ beat-up Toyota.
He could take advantage of the shitty TV in the office, maybe. Watch a stupid re-run while he waits, because he sure as hell isn’t going to wait out in the rain. He walks in and settles on the black leather couch straight out of an amateur porno. He snorts and looks through a fat stack of DVDs in the corner. 
His mouth twists when he picks up something with a racy title. His eyes widen when he realizes it’s an adult film.
“Holy shit,” he mutters, scoffing. He lets out a low whistle, glancing around the office as if someone’s out there, ready to jump him. It’s eerily quiet. He can’t even hear the pitter-patter of rain from in here.
He skims the back cover. It looks crude, but Choso has never really been one to turn down something raunchy. He liked stupid movies, gory ones, art films with weird unsimulated sex. He’d gotten off to In the Realm of the Senses when he was thirteen. Skimming through something this cheap shouldn’t hurt. It wouldn’t arouse him — it would be as entertaining and silly as watching a sitcom for him.
He inserts the disc into the DVD player and waits for it to load. There are no cameras in the office, he notices. Figures. The way you talked about the owner made it seem like the place was barely being held together if not for you.
And then, he thinks of you. He immediately thought you were pretty, not that he’d ever let you know that. Plainer than his usual type, but something was alluring about the curve of your mouth, the way you spoke. He liked that you didn’t take shit most of all. It was probably the hottest thing about you.
He knew better than to fuck around with a coworker, however. It never ended well and resulted in petty drama. He was too old for that shit, wasn’t in high school anymore — he was a man.
When the intro to the film finally loads, a woman in a skimpy, barely-there dress appears on the screen. It’s something vintage, for sure, given the grain. She’s in a love hotel. 
Choso fast-forwards through blurs of messy kissing, colored lights illuminating a heart-shaped tub. He pauses on a frame of the girl riding, her mouth wide open in ecstasy. He presses play.
After about ten minutes, he finds himself in a trance watching with rapt attention at the way the actress moves. His cock twitches when he realizes that she looks a little too much like you. 
She moans particularly loudly and his mouth parts. Something snaps inside of him. 
He has to pause it again. Jesus.
Choso feels like a pervert. No, he’s a man with urges, needs. It’s a pure coincidence that the actress in the porno looks like you of all people. It’s not like he sought her out himself. A movie like this shouldn’t even be in here.
He grits his teeth, hands clenching around the couch leather until his knuckles are white. He takes a breath before pressing play again and his eyes widen when the girl gets even louder.
Ah, fuck it.
He mutters under his breath, shifting on the couch. Glances at the blowjob lips on the screen, soft and plush. He thinks of you and swallows. He bites his cheek, conflicted.
Maybe he shouldn’t.
Then again, no one has to know.
He lets out a shaky exhale, trying to resist the pressure building inside him. It feels like trying to contain a geyser with a cup, and he hasn’t even touched himself yet. 
After contemplating for a beat, he sighs and unbuttons the fly of his jeans, using his other hand to press play again. A gasp escapes his lips as he watches the girl on the screen. The curve of her back, the bounce of her tits. She looks soft. He wonders if you’d be as —
No. No. He’s not doing that.
He spits in his hand and strokes himself, his breathing starting to come out in short, uneven pants. There’s a rush of heat in his gut as he watches. His head tilts back slightly, eyes roaming the ceiling before closing them as he attempts to calm himself down. It’s no use.
His breath hitches, eyes glued to the screen. He’s memorized by the slick flowing out of her. Fuck, he hasn’t gotten laid in a long time. It’s killing him.
It’d be okay if he pretended it was you. It’s not like you would find out. He could imagine fucking your face the way the guy was doing right now in the video, making the bitch gag and moan. Whimpering at being called a good girl. 
“Oh, god–” he mutters, his voice a strangled gasp. She really did look like you. Disturbingly so. When he’s done, he’ll have to wash his hands for five minutes straight from the shame. 
He pants, his grip on himself firm as he squeezes his shaft. Precum smears over his tip and he groans at the sound of the woman’s whimpers getting louder and louder. It makes his lungs seize. He’s getting close.
He doesn’t even register the jingling of the doorknob.
Choso’s head jerks up, his eyes widening in shock as his head turns to see you in the doorway blinking at him. 
“Oh.”
His throat’s dry. What a cruel fucking joke from the universe. There’s no coming back from this. Not when the video’s still going and he’s still half dressed, hand on his fly in mortification.
You tilt your head, smirking. “Nice cock.”
Choso’s at a loss for words, staring at you with embarrassment and utter daze. What the fuck?
“I, uh…” he chokes out, his voice rough and more high-pitched than usual. Face burning. 
He’s going to get fired. No – he has to quit before you even get another word in, save the little dignity he has, maybe convince Yuuji to move to another shitty town with him so he never has to see you again —
“Forgot my wallet,” you say, snapping him out of his thoughts. 
You walk into the room, peering at him. Your eyes fall on the TV, which is still going. The moans feel cheap and tacky now that he’s back in reality. 
Choso scrambles to press the stop button on the remote, his other hand moving to put a pillow on top of his leaking dick. His eyes flicker wildly between your face and the screen.
“You find that in here?”
“Uh… yeah… I, um—”
You snort. “Forgot to tell you that this used to be an adult video store.”
“That explains the selection,” he mutters sheepishly. 
You eye him carefully. He blushes. “Didn’t finish?” you taunt.
He feels too fucking humiliated to say anything, so he mutely nods instead. He fumbles with the zipper of his jeans underneath the pillow.
“Need some help?”
He gapes at you for a moment before looking away. You look amused as you scan his face. Was he hearing you correctly? Was he dreaming?
“Are you— are you offering?” he gasps out, dumbfounded. 
“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done something like that in here.”
Choso’s jaw drops. 
He stares at you for a moment at a loss for words. Curiosity begins to win out over embarrassment.
“With… who?”
“None of your business,” you chuckle.
He doesn’t like that answer. His jaw clenches, knowing that it’s stupid that it hurts his ego a bit for no reason at all. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t press the issue as his gears turn back to your previous offer.
“Then you… uh… want to…? With me?”
“You want to, right?”
He swallows nervously, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks at your body shamelessly for a bit. He’s still so fucking hard. Finally, he nods shyly.
“Okay. Take your clothes off, then.”
For a moment, he wants to protest. This is the last thing he expects from you. Maybe it was a blackmail situation — if he doesn’t let you fuck him, would you fire him? 
He realizes that he doesn’t care either way if he gets to fuck you.
He pushes his jeans down with his boxer briefs, shoves the pillow in his lap away with a blush. Slowly, he strips off his t-shirt, leaving him completely exposed. He can feel your gaze on him, raking his chest and arms, the tattoos on his skin. He looks up at you again almost desperately. 
“I meant it,” you drawl. “You do have a nice cock.”
“Th-thanks…” he croaks. 
“Why so nervous?” you tease. “You were flirting with me all day.”
“Yeah, but–” he mutters, huffing defensively. “I didn’t think you’d actually—”
“Wanna fuck you?” you finish for him.
You say it so bluntly that it catches him off guard. He hadn’t really given it too much thought. You were somewhat receptive to his advances if he could call it that. It was mostly him being himself. His sarcasm was meant to be flirting, but none of it was that serious. He found you hot and interesting. He liked that you could keep up with him. 
When he started touching himself with you in mind, everything was thrown out the window. He wanted you, and would probably dream about you when he got home, but the guilt and shame of doing something so depraved in his place of work made him embarrassed. He wouldn’t have been able to face you on his next shift, and then you decided to barge in and ruin everything. 
And now, you’re offering yourself to him on a silver platter. It was absurd.
He narrows his eyes. “What’s in it for you?”
“I think you’re hot. Isn’t that enough?” 
“You… you actually wanna… uh–”
“Yeah, Choso,” you roll your eyes. “I wanna fuck you.”
He shifts on the couch, eyes roaming hungrily over your body as his breaths grow labored. He swallows a lump in his throat.
“Then… do it,” he mumbles.
You grin, moving to straddle his lap. His hands flex and he has to remember to not appear so eager. This is just a casual hookup with a coworker. One born out of bizarre circumstances, sure, but he needs to play it cool. He grips the edge of the couch.
“Don’t wanna touch me?”
He feels even more meek, if that was possible. He hesitates, throat bobbing as he swallows. He’d had girls in his lap before. Bouncing them on his cock until they cried. For some reason, he feels like the submissive one here just because you’re on top of him. 
“Uh,” he stammers. His voice is quiet, nervous. You think it’s cute. “I didn’t know if I was, uh, allowed to—”
“Go ahead.”
He holds back from kissing you. Instead, he smoothes his large hands over your hips, the curve of your waist. He lifts his hands to the edge of your shirt and hooks his fingers into the hem, slowly tugging it upwards. The reveal of skin is tantalizing, makes his mouth water like a man stranded in a desert. 
Sparks jolt the length of his spine as his fingers brush over the bare skin of your stomach. Fuck, you’re soft. He knew you would be. He pulls the shirt over your head and ogles stupidly at your chest. 
“Someone’s worked up,” you tease, playing with his hair. You undo his buns, leaving his hair down.
“Of course I am,” he mutters, his voice strained. “You’re sitting on my lap, looking like that—”
“Can I kiss you?”
His eyes widen. 
“Please,” he breathes. It almost comes out like a desperate whine. “I mean— yeah—”
You raise a brow, laughing. It makes his face heat up down to his neck. 
“Begging already? Thought you’d be more of a dominant type.”
You’ve thought about me?
“I— I am,” he grumbles. 
“Uh-huh. I’ll let you prove it later.” You lean in.
“Promise?” He looks at you with something eager in his gaze and your eyes soften. 
“Mhm.”
Finally, he captures your lips with his. You sigh into it and it makes his cock throb underneath you. He takes that as an invitation, his tongue immediately pushing past the plush of your lips. He reaches up to grab the back of your head and tangles his fingers in your hair as if he’s done it all before. It makes you moan a little in his mouth.
He moans back, pulling you flush against the hard planes of his chest. You pull back slightly, leaving him to chase your lips for a moment as he lets out a small huff of protest. When you look at him, his eyes are half-lidded, lips slightly parted and shiny with spit.
“You’re pretty,” you say without thinking. “Real pretty.”
He flushes, unable to form words. His expression immediately floods with disappointment when you get off his lap to stand. 
“Where are you going?” His voice would be whiny if it wasn’t so gruff from desire. 
“Relax, idiot.” You unbutton your pants, sliding them down slowly. He assumes you’re teasing him, which he doesn’t particularly mind. You’re a sight to behold. His cock twitches as his eyes look at your smooth thighs. 
“Get over here,” he huffs. You laugh, moving to straddle him. 
He doesn’t have time to react before you lean in to immediately nip at his neck. He lets out a moan, hips bucking involuntarily. You can feel his pulse quickening, the vibration of his moans underneath your lips. 
“Fuck,” he gasps. His fingernails dig into the meat of your waist. 
He can’t stay still. It takes him everything in him to not rock his hips up into you. It doesn’t help that he can already feel your wet heat hovering over his cock. His brain nearly short-circuits. He preens under you, grabbing at you like you’re going to fly away. 
“Be patient. Wanna play with you first,” you mumble.
Choso’s eyes flutter closed as you speak. You sound so fucking sexy right now, he can’t stand it. It’s better than the stupid filler plot he scrubbed through in that damn porno. Miles better. 
“Play with me,” he grits. “Fuck — later.”
“Oh, yeah. Forgot you were pregaming this before I walked in.”
He glares at you. It’s entertaining watching the expression melt off his face when you lift your hips and immediately slam down on him. The moan he lets out is guttural. His hands immediately find your hips.
“Hah – fuck,” you breathe. “You’re bigger than you look.”
Choso lets out a strangled chuckle, head falling back on the couch. It makes him look even hotter, the way his tattoos flex with his collarbone. 
“Told you I wasn’t a kid.”
Your laugh tapers off into a moan when he gives a small, tentative roll of his hips. Testing the waters. You’re so fucking tight that it’s making it hard for him to even think. When he hears you gasp at being filled by him completely, his eyes widen.
“Shit,” he gasps. “Wanna make you do that again—”
“H-Huh?”
His eyes lock on your face as he grins, grinding into you slowly. 
“That noise–” he groans, his throat taut and dry. “You made this little gasp—”
“Ah–”
“There it is,” he snickers. His eyes gleam. “Just like that.”
Your eyes roll back, mirroring the roll of his cock inside you. Your cunt clenches around him and it feels like fucking heaven. He can feel all your wetness drool into his lap. He had the urge to push you into the leather, cant his hips up like something rabid. 
It feels like his brain was going to fall out of his nose, the head rush in tandem with the blood pumping into his cock. Impossible tightness. Snug cunt, petals closing into a bud. 
When you wrap your arms around him, it almost feels romantic. It’s dangerous.
He kisses you, then. Quivers when he feels you getting lost in it, tasting nicotine in your swapped spit. He whimpers as you start to move your hips with more intention. You smile wryly at his reaction, pulling away, eyes fixed on where your bodies meet.
You’re a fucking wet dream while you’re riding him. The way your hair brushes messily over your jawline, the way your mouth parts with a gasp every time he feels you pulsate on his cock. Choso grabs your ass greedily and kneads it, mesmerized at the softness of your flesh. 
“God, you look so fucking good right now—”
His eyes flash as he watches you move. He tries to match your tempo, rutting up into you with frenzied effort. His cheeks are flushed as he nearly unravels himself for you, his expression raw and hungry. He leans in to suck on your tongue, descending his wet mouth down to your jaw, your tits. Oral fixation.
You can feel him deep in your stomach, buried in you. It’s as if he could pierce you through the throat. You’re sure that you’ll ache everywhere by the time you get home. You’d never taken a cock quite this big, never been this wet, your insides swirling around like a washing machine. Your guts all muddled with something that felt too warm for just lust.
“So fucking hot,” he mumbles, hands pressing into your bare thighs. 
All his preoccupations with you had disappeared. He didn’t care if you thought he was a pervert, since you were one too, in a way. Letting him fuck you like this when he barely knew you at all, yet a repressed part of his brain made his heart flutter at the thought of you. It didn’t help that he could practically feel your heartbeat with his cock.
It isn’t romance — it has to be the sex. He can’t think about it too much right now. Not when he’s in a state of delirium inside your cunt.
“Choso, I’m close,” you whine.
“Yeah?” he rasps. “Fuck, me too.” 
His hair is tousled and sticky. Eyes glazed, chest rising and falling rapidly.
He grabs at your hips, guiding them to grind on him faster. Your wetness makes it all so smooth — all buttery, no resistance. You feel full.
He feels like he’s being squeezed to death, to heaven. It sends him over the edge at the same time he feels your pussy clench around him. You tremble in waves as you gasp out a moan. It’s more like a choked breath. He can’t stop watching you as you come, the way your eyes roll back. 
A whine escapes his throat as he cums. Everything that seeps out is slick, feels like something new and primordial at once. Seraphic, he’d say, if he happened to be drunk. He certainly feels drunk.
Choso doesn’t expect you to kiss him so sweetly after such a vulgar affair. He lets out a long exhale into your mouth with eyes closed, letting his head fall back a little while your hands cup his cheeks. His body is all melted limbs, languid sex. 
“Jesus,” he mutters. 
“Hey.”
He opens his eyes and gazes at you through sleepy lids. He lifts a hand lazily, brushing the hair away from your face.
“Yeah?”
“Did you pick an actress that looked like me on purpose?”
He freezes. His hands tighten around your waist as he looks away.
“No,” he scoffs. “Just thought she was hot—”
You chuckle.
“I didn’t pick it, I found it,” he gruffs. “I’ll admit that… she looks like you… I guess.”
“Was I as good?” 
He scoffs again, his eyes flashing with a mix of playfulness and irritation. You were as much of a little shit as he was.
“You’re better,” he rolls his eyes. “I already told you what I think, dumbass. Real pretty.”
“Oh, did you?”
There’s a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “I’d be pretty pissed if you weren’t better than some stupid video—”
“Idiot. Those girls are probably like, Olympians at fucking. Porn isn’t like real sex anyway.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he grins. He pauses for a moment, suddenly looking timid. “It’s just… a decent placeholder for when I… y’know.”
“Just call me next time.”
Choso’s eyes widen slightly, unable to hide his surprise. He sputters for a second.
“What? I’m, uh— not gonna call you every time I—” he groans, “That’ll be way too many times.”
You raise a brow.
“Wait, no— that came out wrong. I’m not some horny freak or something—”
“I mean, given how I found you…”
“That’s—” he stammers, unable to complete a sentence without his brain completely blacking out every millisecond. “That was a one-time thing.”
“Hope so. I don’t wanna fire you, newbie,” you grin.
His pulse quickens at your smile. 
“Like hell, you will. You’re too understaffed to fire me.”
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317 notes · View notes
thefreakandthehair · 10 days
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you're my fantasy.
written for ‘shower’ wc: 399 | rated: m | tags: established relationship, slice of life, modern au, steve harrington plays fantasy football and eddie munson loves him so goddamn much, suggestive ending @steddiemicrofic
Eddie moved in with Steve six months ago, but he’s still not used to the hot water never running out.
It doesn’t trickle, it doesn’t fade, it doesn’t force him to hurriedly scrub the shampoo from his scalp after just a couple of minutes. Cold showers are good for two reasons: unbearable Indiana summers and having to look at a thought-to-be-untouchable Steve in a swimsuit. But now, he lives in Steve’s house with it’s central air conditioning and he gets to touch Steve every fucking day so suffice to say, he never wants to experience the sharp cut of a cold shower again.
He stands in the enclosure, face towards the spray and he rolls his shoulders, stretching his neck. The heat from the water fills the bathroom, a fog that settles across the mirror above the sink.
It’s quiet.
It’s peaceful.
It doesn’t last.
Eddie startles as he hears footsteps rushing up the stairs, feet tripping over themselves, only for Steve to barrel through the bathroom door. He grimaces and braces himself against the sink countertop, leaning down to rub one hand over his calf.
“Um… hi?” Eddie pulls the curtain back enough to see Steve clearly without letting all of the precious warmth go to waste. “Not tired of seeing my dick yet? You could've just asked.”
Steve stands up straight and rolls his eyes. “I’m definitely not tired of seeing your dick and never will be, but that’s not why I busted my ass running up here. It’s 6:55pm. The game kicks off at 8:15pm. I’m down by 23 points in our fantasy league, I’m playing Wayne, and they just announced that they’re sitting Christian McCaffrey because of a calf strain! Just now, Ed!”
“You…” Eddie bites the inside of his cheek. “You ran up the stairs like some sort of possessed spider just to tell me that my uncle is going to beat you this week?”
“It’s the last game of the week!” Steve repeats, bending down again to massage his leg flared nostrils and pinched eyebrows. “I have no one left to substitute in!”
“And it looks like you’re gonna be benched this week for your own calf injury.” Eddie shakes his head and smirks, impossibly fond and so goddamn in love. “C’mon, get in here with me. Can’t fix your football team, but I think I can make you feel a lot better.”
husband and I are both in multiple fantasy leagues and in one of the leagues we aren't in together, he was banking on Christian McCaffery to win the week for him. McCaffery was the offensive player of the year last year, the universal number one draft pick for fantasy football leagues this year, and arguably one of the best running backs in the NFL. him getting sat an hour before the game on Monday was a Big Deal™️ and this is my long way of explaining that this is yet another entry into the fic genre of "Lex's Husband Doing Steve Harrington Things." anyways, he scared the fucking shit out of me when he ran into the bathroom to tell me. 💀
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gallusrostromegalus · 17 days
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Since you're at the doctor's, medical headcanons. Who's afraid of needles, who's the biggest baby when sick, who insists that everyone just let them die, etc. etc.
Short answer before long one bc I have to drive but:
They're all deep, deep into the morass of the horrors and miracles of The Flesh.
---
The Karakura kids are weird because Ichigo's dad is an emergency trauma doctor and Ichigo's family loves above the clinic. Any time his friends come over there's a round of "so what wild shit happened in the ER since last time?"
(continued under the cut)
Uryuu's dad is also a surgeon, and the thing that gets him and Ichigo back on speaking terms again is more or less second-hand shop talk.
Orihime has been obsessed with emergency medicine since her brother died. She wanted to know what she should have done, and can do so it won't happen again.
Keigo has been carrying a first aid kit in his backpack since he became friends with Ichigo and Tatsuki in middle school. He's got an exceptional talent for patching someone up enough to get through English class without the teacher noticing the injuries after a lunchtime brawl.
Tatsuki started peeking over Orihime's shoulder at her notes on joint trauma and developed a talent for targeting her kicks and punches to deal maximum damage in karate tournaments.
Mizurio knows a suspicious amount about neurology and how pain works because his "uncles" keep telling him about techniques used by enforcers to extract payment or information.
Chad got heavily into Oxacan folk medicine because once he stopped getting in fights, he needed something else to occupy him, and his abuela decided to teach him how to cook. There is not a huge difference between good food and good medicine. He has an encyclopedic knowledge of chemoreactive plants and chemistry you can do on a stove.
Every single one of the Karakura kids has had something medical happen to them or a loved one, and every single one is now peering into the mysteries of the flesh about it.
---
The shinigami are worse.
Shinigami broadly have better physical resistance, esp because they're reaping the injury stabilizing benefits Senjumaru wove into the Shinigami Shushako.
But they live in a feudal society that has only SOME of the benefits of modern medicine, and the few instances of disease-mitigating infrastructure are far between. It's COMMON for the souls of the rukongai and Seireitei alike to have a sibling who died in infancy or a parent who died in child birth or of an infection.
Societally, they are still in the very earliest phases of the war against pestilence and it gives one a very warped perspective on all things medical. Especially if you happen to be in the immediate sphere of influence of soul society's greatest warrior against death:
Retsu Unohana.
I cannot overstate the impact this woman has had, and you don't do things like "decimate the nationwide infant mortality rate" or "pioneer organ transplant surgery" without being a bit mad, and she has lived so long and done so much that the madness has clarified into a single extremely dense point of determination and she warps the reality of those around her. Woe and Blessings alike to those within her event horizon.
---
The Arrancar are even worse.
Hollow resilience to injury allows them to body much, much worse injuries than the humans and it has an impact on etiquette. Biting off a hand because someone won't stop bothering you is a normal way to establish a boundary. Limb loss and regrowth is common, and disembowelment about as serious as a bad cold.
The food situation is even more dire. Smaller hollows, ones that used to be plants or animals or human-hollows who have a modicum of self control are weak, but lucky. They can survive off the ambient reiatsu in the atmosphere of Hueco Mundo, or the naturally cleaving fragments of soul that fall off the living.
Everyone else needs to hunt. And the more powerful a hollow becomes, the more it needs to consume, and the richer it's prey must be. The only really rich souls are other sapient beings. Any hollow at the level of Shrieker or Grand Fisher or higher is trapped in a hellish metabolic cycle of cannibalism, and the only way out is through.
The primary killer of hollows is other hollows. They know what they're doing. They're looking their fellow beings in the eye, the ones who understand them best, and deciding that their own life is worth their friend's. For all their ability to handle the slings and arrows of physical trauma, hollows are worse at handling the emotional consequences of this cycle. Monstrous Egotism is a best case scenario for them.
In practice, this means that while it's perfectly acceptable to bite someone's hand off for annoying you, it would be rude of you to spit it back at them. At least eat it!
I realize this last bit is not, strictly speaking, medical, but you can see how the ability to survive being turned into an anatomical Venus and having to live on a diet of the flesh of others would completely recontextualize how hollows think about Illness.
---
I will do the fun individual headcanons when I get home, but this is a good broader framework to consider for now.
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Copy that
Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember, week 3
Prompts: Lingerie & Sneaking Around
Words: 1,273
Rated: E
Tags: Office AU; Janitor Eddie; Junior Boss Steve; Secret Relationship; Semi-public sex; Steve in lingerie; Groping; Manhandling; Dirty talk; Dry humping; Inappropriate treatment of office equipment
Notes: Set in the same universe as this one
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Eddie can tell what kind of day it'll be the second he walks into the office. Chrissy looks up from the files she's organizing on the reception desk and smiles ruefully.
“Hey, Eddie,” she calls. “Good thing you're here. The copy machine on the second floor is broken.”
“Jesus,” Eddie groans as he hands over her usual styrofoam cup of coffee. “It isn’t even nine yet and there’s another copier literally one floor above that. Did that not occur to those corporate dumbfucks?” 
She giggles and draws a breath to reply, but is interrupted by the phone on her desk ringing. 
“I bet that's Steve again,” she sighs.
Eddie’s stomach does a weird little flip. 
“Harrington Junior? I thought he was in New York this week.” 
She shrugs. “His conference got canceled. Listen, can you go check on this? I don't know why he needs those copies so urgently, but this is the fourth time he's called about it.”
As he steps into the elevator, Eddie wonders why he keeps putting up with this shit. He isn't being paid enough to deal with entitled tie-wearers who think the entire universe revolves around them. 
The second floor is still mostly empty, only a few miserable employees settling into their cubicles. At the sound of Eddie’s boots thudding closer, Steve steps out of the copying room, frowning and flushed pink with annoyance. 
“Yeah, whatever,” Eddie says. “I’m here now, aint’ I? No need to get your panties in a twist.” 
“Finally,” he snaps. “Do you have any idea for how long I’ve-”
Something twitches across Steve’s face, something that looks suspiciously like a smirk, but it’s gone as quick as it came as he grabs Eddie by the elbow to steer him into the copying room. 
While Steve clicks the door shut behind them, Eddie walks over to the copier. He peeps into the gap between the machine and the wall, sighs, and bends down to retrieve the pulled plug. 
“Seriously?” he asks. “Again? You need to start coming up with new excuses, because this is getting-” 
And that's as far as he gets before two large hands shove him against the machine and a warm, slick tongue pushes past his lips. Eddie hums a half-hearted protest and tries to pull out of the kiss, but Steve growls and grabs his face in both hands to hold him in place. The copier rattles as he wedges a leg between Eddie’s thighs. 
“Woah, princess,” Eddie gasps as those lips leave his mouth, blazing a hot trail down his jaw and throat. A look towards the door reveals three large cartons of paper stacked in front of it, but he doubts they'll withstand one or two hearty pushes. “Hold on. There's people out there, anyone could-”
“Better make it quick then,” Steve says, breath leaving warm puffs against the hollow of his throat. The seams of Eddie’s overalls groan dangerously as he yanks them off his shoulders. “If you'd have been here sooner, we wouldn't be in this situation. Now c’mon, or are you scared?” 
Eddie growls. Steve’s self-satisfied grin only serves to fuel his rage as he spins them both around and bends him over the copier. 
“I'll show you scared, you little brat,” he says, nudging Steve's legs apart and pinning his arms behind his back with one hand, the other opening his expensive leather belt with practiced motions. He bends and bites down at the base of that long neck, just long enough to feel Steve’s answering moan rattle in his own chest, then straightens back up and yanks Steve’s dress pants down in one violent motion. 
And then he freezes. 
Lace.
Steve Harrington's glorious ass is covered in shiny, delicate lace. It stretches over it in a pattern of pretty flowers and little hearts, golden skin and dark moles shining through the see-through fabric. 
It is red. 
Jesus Christ on a fucking motorbike. 
“What's the matter?” Steve asks. He's craning his neck to take in Eddie’s reaction, face unbearably smug and flushed as red as the lace of his panties. “You planning on doing something or are you just gonna stand there and catch flies?” 
“You might wanna get going soon,” Steve singsongs. “There’s people out there, y’know?” 
He rolls his hips, grinding his ass against the rapidly growing bulge in Eddie’s overalls. His pants slip further down as he does. There's garters. Red, lacy garters hugging thick, muscled thighs and Eddie is not going to survive, is he?
“Oh my God, you're such a slut,” Eddie mutters, and surges in. Steve moans again as he fists a hand into the hair at the base of his neck, pushing him face-first onto the copier. Eddie has a fleeting thought that it's simultaneously lucky and a pity that the thing isn't plugged in because man, those copies would be something to look at. 
“God, baby,” he growls, yanking Steve’s head up by the hair, forcing his back into an obscene arch. “You're gonna kill me one day, you know that?” 
“Hope not,” Steve gasps, fingers digging into the edge of the machine for dear life. Glass creaks and metal rattles as Eddie rocks his hips, grinding their bodies together. “I really like your cock.” 
Eddie laughs, the words igniting a firework of want low in his abdomen. Steve shivers under him as he blankets him with his weight, pressing him down against the hard surface of the machine so that he can whisper right into his ear. 
“Oh, yeah? That what you want, princess? Well, be my guest. I’m gonna stuff you so full, you’ll feel it all day. You gonna walk out of this room and back to your stupid meetings, and all you’ll be able to think of is how good it felt, getting fucked by me. How all you wanna do is go back and take my cock again, you greedy little-” 
“Steve? You in there? What is wrong with the door?” 
Steve is out from under him and on his way to the door before Eddie manages to fully process his shock. 
“Hold on a sec, Tommy! I think it’s stuck.” 
Steve smiles while he pulls up his pants and fixes his hair, like he has all the time in the world. Eddie is so busy bemoaning the loss of the panties and garters that it takes him a second to remember his own disheveled state. He has hardly shrugged back into his overall sleeves and pulled the zipper up when Steve shoves the boxes out of the way and Hagan from Sales stomps into the room, a stack of papers in hand and a scowl on his face. 
“Oh, sorry,” Steve says, full of genuine regret. “The copier’s broken. Eddie and I were just looking into it.” 
Steve shrugs exasperatedly. “I know, right? Looks like someone needs a refresher course on how to treat company property.” 
“Man, does anything in this company work?” Hagan grumbles, stalking past Eddie to flip open the lid of the machine. “Who the fuck did this? There’s cracks all over the place!”
Hagan groans, slamming the lid shut and turning back towards the door. “Whatever, I’m using the one upstairs. Oh, by the way, your dad wants you in his office. Something about New York?” 
“On it,” Steve calls after him. “Thanks for letting me know.” 
As he brushes past Eddie and out of the door, he shoots him a coy smile. “I guess we'll need to conclude this meeting later. Come to my office around lunch?” 
Eddie really, really isn't getting paid enough for this shit. Luckily, the job comes with other benefits. 
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More smutty September
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imaginesheaven · 2 years
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Medic!reader x TF 141 - friendship headcanons
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Warnings: none really; mention of injuries
Captain Price requests especially you for the team since he got a glimpse at your file and got impressed instantly by your skills.
That’s is actually not really  surprising because you are quite the legend under the medics and soldiers. No one knows how you keep so many of your team members alive but you do with a quite high rate. This skill of yours turns you into the most wanted medic probably in the whole British Army.
The team isn’t quite sure how to deal with a medic in their lines. They never had one long enough to get used to them. So, at the beginning everything is a bit awkward for all of you.
Within the first mission you show them that you aren’t only a medic but also a fighter who will give everything to see another day. You even saved Soap’s ass in a quite sassy demeanor.
“Ha, Sarge. You owe me one.” – You wink at him grinning away while the men just share a quite confused but impressed glance.
With that you earned your spot at the Task Force 141 and the respect of their members for the rest of your life.
You love taking care of the boys, but you would never tell them directly. Your preferred love language for them is sassiness in every single situation you can think of.
“How is Soap?”, Price asks as you patch the soldier up, “He will survive … unfortunately. Which is quite the surprise with so much stupidity in him.” – “Hey! I can hear you, Doc.” – “Great, at least you are not deaf so I don’t have to repeat myself…”
Gaz and Ghost keep snickering in the back before you turn around and throw them death glares, “You two are not better than him.”
Captain Price loves that you have to deal with this shit too now in your own way.
Since you are patching them up quite frequently, they are treating you like the Holy Grail itself. You are probably the best protected member of the British Army the world has ever seen.
One of them is always by your side at the battlefield, “We got your back, Doc. Don’t worry~”
You are never worried about your own safety and health. These men would literally jump in front of a bullet for you to keep you alive.
“STOP PUTTING YOURSELF IN DANGER FOR ME! THIS IS EVEN MORE WORK FOR ME!”
Of course, you love them in a platonic way to pieces that they want to keep you safe no matter the cost.
Once on a mission you get knocked out by one of the rookies by accident, “We need a medic!” The poor boy had no idea what he gotten himself into. The team looks at you unconscious on the ground, “THAT IS OUR MEDIC! YOU BRAINLESS PIECE OF …”
Ghost and Price have to hold back Soap and Gaz before the punch the living hell out of the rookie. The poor boy is scarred and traumatized for his life.
Back on the home base they come to you with the tiniest injuries because you are their favorite medic ever.
“What is it, Gaz?” – “Got a paper cut. It hurts.” – “You got … a papercut. Do you want your band-aid with ponies or spider-man?” … “Ponies…”
You already have your first-aid kit ready when Gaz, Soap and sometimes Ghost do stupid shit together.
“Hey, Doc. What’cha doing?”, Price takes the seat next to you. Without a word you hold up the kit and point at the boys, “Working.” Not a second later you already hear the pained cries from one of them. “I have no idea how long you all could survive that long without me…”
Getting the call sign “Doc” from the team even if you had a different one before. Not very creative, but it is short and everyone got used to it way too fast. So, Doc it is.
They would never admit it out loud, but the thought men are scared to lose you as much as you are to lose one of them.
During another mission the enemy got you good with a bullet to your shoulder. There was no way you could take care of it yourself. Since the evac would be in the morning you had a whole night to bleed to death. There was no other way around to save your life.
You gave them a good description and a to-do list how they open the wound to get out the bullet and to patch up afterwards. The hard men watched you with pure fear in their eyes as you get everything ready for them to be the doctors this time.
“You can do this, boys”, you encourage them smiling, but all of you know exactly that your time is running out. They would lose you.
Ghost takes things into his own hands and will be the one getting the bullet out. The Captain stays by his side to assist as best as he could. Gaz and Soap are way too nervous to do anything except for holding onto each other.
“How about you two take care of the watch?”, Price gives them an order to get their nervous energy out of his reach. Of course, they would watch from afar instead of keeping their eyes on the windows.
The pain of opening the wound to get the bullet out of your shoulder gets the best of you. Nothing comes over your lips as you slump forward unconscious. Nothing has panicked these men ever before like your blacked out form not able to guide them through every little step.
At least you couldn’t hear the wave of curse words washing over you. Of course, they still manage to patch you up quite nicely and take care of you. You are wrapped up in jackets to make you comfortable as they watch you through the night.
“Shit, I have never done something scarier than this…”, Ghost couldn’t believe you are doing this so often never getting tired of it. You already earned all of their respect beforehand, but once again they are reminded how amazing you are.
“Doc didn’t even scream just passed out silently”, Gaz can’t imagine how painful that must have been. Secretly he wished to be tough like you one day.
“… Why are you all staring at me? You are so creepy”, it isn’t the best way to wake up with four men staring at you intensely like they did. Still you are very grateful that they saved your ass.  
Back home you pay for the first round of drinks since you are alive and get to see another day with your team.
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loudstan · 2 years
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Perfect Little Toy
Summary: Mark was looking forward to meeting his mate, but he was not expecting to find her in a sex shop.
Pairing: Werewolf! Mark x Witch! Female reader
Warnings: smut, some angst, magic potions used during sex I guess? also this is way longer than my other fics sorry
 Mark should have known better. But when Haechan asked him to go shopping with him, never in a million years did he think they would end up in a sex shop.
“Dude, I don’t wanna go in there,” he hissed, trying to break free from Haechan’s unrelenting grip on his arm.  Haechan pulled harder, whining vociferously. “S-stop! People are watching,” Mark whispered urgently, trying to hide his face from the curious bystanders.
“What’s the big deal?”Haechan rolled his eyes.
“You could have ordered stuff like this online!” Mark sighed, reluctantly letting himself be dragged into the eye-catching store. “It’s weird to come here together.”
“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Haechan shrugged, walking to the nearest shelf and inspecting the x-rated shaped toys on display. “We are bros, aren’t we? Remember when you wanted to get a fortune telling reading but didn’t want to go alone? Who went with you?”
“Okay, first of all, you can’t possibly compare fortune telling to vibrators,” Mark argued, slapping Haechan’s hand away when it playfully brought a pink dildo uncomfortably close to Mark’s face. “Secondly, you literally found your mate in that shop, so you should be thanking me.”
“Well, maybe you’ll find your mate in here,” Haechan said.
“Very funny,” Mark deadpanned, offended at the mere suggestion of meeting his destined partner in such a lewd place. “Oh, shit I made eye contact with an employee, fuck he’s coming this way-”
“Hi, welcome to Pandora’s Box. My name is Jeonghan,” said a young man with dark hair and a bored expression as he pointed at the name tag on his shirt. “How can I help you today? Is there anything specific you’re looking for?”
“Hey,man!” Haechan greeted. “You see, my girl and I have a lot of sex-”
“Sure you do,” Jeonghan’s plain voice replied. If only he got paid extra for every time he heard that. 
“But she’s human and I’m a werewolf. I’m afraid I’m too big down there for her, you know?” Haechan continued with an arrogant smirk, pointing at his crotch just for extra clarification, Mark cringing behind him.
“Right,”said Jeonghan, clearly unimpressed. Again, if he got paid for each guy who said they were too big. “If you want to train her for your size, then we have some bigger models over here,” he offered, walking the two customers to a shelf with exotic looking silicone dicks. He shoved a massive  neon green dildo into Haechan’s hands.“This one was molded after a head alpha. It comes with a remote to simulate a knot,” he said as he pressed a button on the remote and  the phallic toy started growing in the werewolf's hands, who was in obvious shock. This was Jeonghan’s favorite part of his job: humbling men who thought they were the shit, when it goes without saying that there’s always a bigger dildo that can do a better job. “It glows in the dark,” he added, biting back a smile.
“Cool,”Haechan breathed out, trying not to show how much they had hurt his ego and ignoring Mark’s snort. “Uh–I’m not sure about the… the color, yeah,” There was no way he was buying a toy bigger than him. “Do you maybe have, uh–...something else? Maybe a potion or something that makes it less painful for her?” He added before that Jeonghan guy tried to show him another colossal toy.
 Jeonghan put the toy back on the shelf and lifted his eyebrows as he seemed to think about it for a second. “I guess a potion would work, yeah…This way, please,” he instructed, taking a very embarrassed Haechan and a now amused Mark to a different section of the shop, hidden behind some dark curtains. “Hey, Y/N! Do you have anything to make werewolf penetration more enjoyable for humans?” he asked loudly as they entered a small room decorated with tons of colorful potion jars and  illuminated by candles. 
 At first Mark choked at the employee’s vulgar words and coughed awkwardly. Then a sweet and fresh scent invaded his nostrils, making him freeze. He let out a shaky breath and inhaled once again, letting the summer-like scent fill his lungs and his brain go fuzzy, his eyes trying to focus on the source of such heavenly stimulation. There you were, the most beautiful woman Mark had ever laid eyes on, wearing an employee uniform and your hair tied up neatly not to get in the way of your job. You had stopped mixing a bubbly lilac potion in a cauldron to listen to Jeonghan and help him solve Haechan’s problem. And god, your voice was so melodic, Mark had no idea what you were talking about but he could listen to you forever.
“So this would make her produce as much slick as an omega in heat?” Haechan was fascinated, staring at an expensive looking potion in an elegant jar. 
“Well, not automatically,” you replied. “It will depend on how aroused she is. If you can’t  turn her on, it won’t help you.”
“So you’re telling me,” Haechan insisted, overconfidently. “That she’ll have no way to hide how turned on she is?” he was already thinking of how cute his girlfriend would look when she’s all wet and embarrassed. 
“Yes,” you replied dryly at the same time Jeonghan rolled his eyes at the cocky customer. 
 Mark, on the other hand, was in his own little world and couldn’t stop staring at your lips. Unconsciously, he found himself wondering if you would need to use that potion to make him fit or if he could make it work by taking things slow. Maybe if he ate you out real good and opened you up with his fingers it wouldn’t hurt that much. Mark didn’t want to hurt you, he wanted to make you feel good, take care of you.
“Holy shit,” he gasped when it finally hit him. This was it. He had found his mate. In a fucking sex shop.
Haechan gave him an inquisitive look, but he quickly dismissed his friend’s reaction as him being impressed by the potion. 
“Anything else you need?” Jeonghan asked, making Haechan turn his attention to him once again. 
“Mm…Handcuffs?” Haechan asked after a few seconds of hesitation. 
“How original,” Jeonghan muttered, before indicating for Haechan to follow him back outside. Mark didn’t budge when his friend walked past him. It was like his feet were glued to the floor as he stared at you going back to mixing the suspicious-looking potion while humming to a sweet melody. His eyes landed on your name tag and he found himself saying your name out loud before he could stop it. You quickly looked up, surprised that the customer was still there.
“Yes?” you asked politely. “Can I help you with anything else?”
Oh shit, he had to think of something before you thought he was a creep. He licked his lips nervously before he came up with a question that sounded convincing enough. “I j-just uh… are y-you the owner?”
“Jeonghan and I both co-own this place,” you replied and gave him a smile. “Why?”
“N-no, because, like, you look very y-young so I w-was a bit…surprised, so…so I asked?” The way he ended as if he was asking a question was kind of cute if you were being honest and you couldn’t help but laugh. 
 Mark let out a giggle too, dazed at the fact that he had made you laugh. Oh, how he wanted to make you laugh everyday for the rest of his life. 
“We came up with this idea when we were in freshman year, so we had plenty of time to save money and plan everything,” you explained patiently. Somehow, this stranger made you feel at ease, like you didn’t need to be careful with him, or at least not the way you were with most men. “By the time we graduated we were ready to open the store. It’s like our baby.”
Mark felt a pang of jealousy at the fact that there was a man who was close enough to you to plan such a big project together. “That’s cool, uh– s-so are you two, like, a thing? A c-couple?”
 The sound of your laughter made Mark’s heart skip a beat and he smiled dreamily, almost forgetting what he had asked in the first place.
“No way!” you continued laughing at the ridiculous idea, Mark’s relieved sigh going unnoticed. “We’ve been friends since forever. Just a little advice; never make business plans with a romantic partner, kid.”
“I-I’m 23,” Mark laughed nervously, using the back of his hand to dry up some sweat beads accumulated on his forehead. Your sweet scent was so suffocating it was getting harder to breathe, but he couldn’t care less. 
“Oops, my bad! Not a kid,” you said. “You look so young, though! I’m jealous,” you complimented him, not wanting to admit that he also looked gorgeous. “What’s your name?”
“M-mark,” he stuttered. Cute.
“Nice to meet you, Mark,” you extended your hand for him to shake it, smiling more brightly at the way he giggled like an infatuated high-school girl. Everything seemed to be funny to him and it was endearing. He took your hand into his delicately and allowed you to shake it in a friendly manner when your heart started pounding ridiculously fast and you felt the room move around you. Mark’s hard squeeze on your hand brought you back to reality and you saw his body visibly wobbling as he closed his eyes and his chest rose and fell rapidly. “Mark?” you called his name worriedly, but he only whispered your name weakly before he collapsed on the floor with a thud.
“M-mark?” you breathed out, still trying to calm down your own fluttering heart. You knelt down next to his unconscious body and only then you noticed he was covered in sweat. “Shit. Hey, Mark!” you insisted, giving his face a gentle slap with hopes of waking him up. No response. You tried to stand up to go get help, but for some reason you had no strength in your legs. “Jeonghan!” you screamed as loud as you could. Few seconds later, Jeonghan burst into the potions room, his face incredibly pale and eyes wide open, this being the first time he had heard you scream like that. He looked from your terrified face to the motionless man on the floor, trying to assess damage. Immediately after came Haechan, carrying a basket full of different products, which he almost dropped when he saw the state his pack brother was in. 
“What happened?!” Jeonghan asked, kneeling down and wrapping an arm over your shoulders protectively. 
“I d-don’t know! I just shook his hand,” you said.
 Haechan, who had been checking Mark’s pulse, moved his hand from his wrist to his forehead, confirming that he was burning up. “So he became like this right after you touched him?” he asked, staring at you intently, his tone indicating that he knew something you didn’t. 
“I guess? I…I really didn’t do anything to him, I swear!” your voice shook, thinking you were being accused of harming such a nice guy. You tried to stand up but, again, your weak legs pulled you back to the floor and you let out a frustrated groan as Jeonghan helped you reach a chair. 
“Are you okay?” your friend asked you anxiously, stabilizing you on the chair.
“I’m fine!” you sighed. “I’m probably just nervous. I’m not used to people fainting in front of me- Why haven’t you called an ambulance yet?!” you urged him.
“No need,” Haechan interrupted you before Jeonghan could pull his phone out of his pocket. “This is just his rut. It was due a couple of days, but I guess it came early,” he explained, his eyes shining too excitedly for someone whose friend was unconscious on the floor. He chuckled under his breath like the whole situation was amusing. “He’s fine. He just needs to get home and rest.I’ll ask someone to pick us up,” he added, quickly typing on his phone.
 In less than 20 minutes, an old fashioned vehicle pulled up by the store, a man hurriedly getting off the car and making his way to the entrance, stopping midtrack once he opened the door and found himself surrounded by adult toys. 
“Yeah, yeah, this is a sex shop. People have sex, surprise!” Haechan said sarcastically, gesturing to the newcomer to come in. 
“How’s he?” the intimidatingly tall man asked, after clearing his throat and taking long strides towards where you were. Thankfully, the store was almost empty when the whole incident had taken place, so Jeonghan had quickly kicked the remaining customers out and closed the store, helping Haechan move Mark to a more comfortable place while you got some wet towels to reduce his fever. Now Mark was lying on an improvised bed made of blankets and clothes, almost looking like he was taking a peaceful nap. 
“He’s fine, Johnny,” Haechan chuckled. “Our little Mark is just a bit overwhelmed.”
Johnny turned to you and Jeonghan and thanked you for taking care of his brother, before kneeling next to Mark and Haechan. “I didn’t know his rut was due today,” he muttered.
“Because it wasn’t,” Haechan simply said, giving Johnny a playful look. 
 Johnny stared back at him and raised his eyebrows. “Then what-” he trailed off when he saw Haechan tilting his head furtively towards you, the movement barely perceptible but enough to make Johnny look at you out of the corner of his eyes. Thankfully you were busy talking to Jeonghan, who did catch Johnny staring before the tall werewolf quickly turned his back towards him and tried to move Mark carefully. “Which one,” Johnny whispered only for Haechan to hear, to which Haechan mouthed ‘the girl,’ eliciting an impressed grin from Johnny. “Okay, Markie, let’s get you out of here,” Johnny’s voice was back to normal volume, lifting Mark off the ground and carrying him on his shoulder, Mark’s weak groan being the only sign that he was alive. Haechan followed after him, carrying bags of new toys with him and thanking you again for everything before exiting the shop and getting in the car. 
 Once you and Jeonghan were left alone in the store, you let out a heavy sigh. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jeonghan asked.
“Yeah, just tired,” you replied, stretching your body now that your legs seemed to function properly. “This town has more werewolves than I thought,” you suddenly said. 
“I´ve heard about those guys. It’s a big pack that moved here a couple of years ago, and for some reason the number of members keeps increasing,” Jeonghan huffed as he moved towards the counter to close the cash register. “I also heard some of them are imprinting on humans,” he added slowly, looking at you attentively. 
“Imprinting,” you repeated unconvinced such a thing was ever real. “Do you really believe in that whole soulmate thing wolves have going on?”
Jeonghan hummed and seemed to focus on his task of counting bills. “How would I know? I’m not one of them,” he finally said. “It could be real.”
“It’s an ancient tradition. Someone probably came up with it to keep them from having sex with whoever they want,” you spitted.
“They can still have sex with whoever they want,” for some reason Jeonghan was defending werewolves’ outdated way of thinking. “But they are more likely to settle down once they find someone who is very important to them.”
“That's called commitment,” you fired back. “Which is not the same as being forced to like someone through imprinting.”
“They are also gifted,” Jeonghan continued matter of factly, with a hint of annoyance in his voice, like he didn’t like admitting to it. “Down there. Massive dicks.”
“Jeonghan, we literally sell toys that could satisfy me better than a traditionalist guy with attachment issues who thinks having a big dick makes him special,” you deadpanned. 
“Okay!” Jeonghan sighed and raised his arms defensively. “No need to be so defensive.”
“I’m not-,” you stopped yourself because you were in fact being defensive. Why did you care? Was it really because you hated old-fashioned ways of thinking? Was there something else bothering you? To be fair, you had been unnecessarily mean; you didn’t think any of the werewolves you just met were traditionalist assholes with attachment issues. Mark especially seemed like such a kind and chill guy. The type of guy you would have asked out on a date if he hadn’t passed out in front of you. Maybe that’s what bothered you: was Mark the type of werewolf who followed traditions to the extent he wouldn’t even give you a chance in order to prioritize his supposed mate? “Sorry, you’re right. It has nothing to do with me anyways.”
When Mark woke up, his head was throbbing and your lovely scent felt like a distant memory. His muscles ached when he sat up and he winced at the way his shirt stuck to his sweaty body. As he took the messy shirt off he heard a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” he croaked, after taking a proper look at his surroundings and recognising his own room. The door opened slowly and the youngest member of the pack slid into his room, carrying a glass of water and a little medication bottle. Mark could already tell what type of medication it was.
“They told me to give you these,” Jisung offered him the suppressants and waited until Mark had successfully opened the jar and taken a pill into his hands before offering the glass of water.
“Thanks,” Mark muttered before swallowing the pill and gulping down the content of the glass. 
“Do you need anything else?” The younger asked sympathetically.
“No,” Mark assured him, already having gone through his rut so many times he just knew there wasn’t much he could do about it besides fucking it out of his system, by himself or with somebody else. “I just have to wait for the suppressants to kick in and I’ll feel a bit better.”
“Do suppressants really help?” Jisung asked curiously. He had only had a rut once and he spent it with his mate, so he didn’t have to suffer as much as his older brothers. 
“They make the whole thing bearable,” Mark answered, cracking his neck and sighing tiredly. “But it’s still a pain in the ass,” he admitted.
“Is he awake?” Haechan’s voice called from the door. “You got me worried when I saw you unconscious on the floor, man. I calmed down because I understood what was happening, but you probably scared the shit out of the people who worked at the store. That poor girl didn’t know what to do,” he chuckled, inviting himself into the room and sitting on Mark’s bed. 
“Fuck,” Mark groaned at the reminder of such embarrasing first impression and he flopped into the bed. “Y/N…”
“Who is Y/N?” Jisung asked.
“That, little Jisung, would be Mark’s mate,” Haechan revealed and then looked at Mark for confirmation. “Am I right?” 
 Mark whined and covered his face with his palms, but he nodded. 
“And you met her thanks to who…?” Haechan continued, looking from Jisung to Mark , adding a dramatic pause. “Me! I was the one who took you to that sex shop!”
“S-sex shop?!” Jisung choked on his saliva and stared at Mark in shock as if he was waiting for him to tell him it was one of Haechan’s jokes. 
“That’s right,” Haechan laughed and then he gasped as he seemed to remember something. “Hold on, I got you something,” he suddenly said, standing up and leaving the room shortly,and coming back with a pair of handcuffs which he gave to Jisung. “Here. These are for the next time your mate tries to run away.”
Jisung’s eyes almost popped out of his head as he stared at the pink, fluffy handcuffs in his palms. “S-shut up!” He stuttered as aggressively as he could in spite of his voice cracking. “Noona’s not going anywhere,” he muttered to himself.
“Fine,” Haechan rolled his eyes and extended his hand. “Give them back if you don’t want them.”
“N-no,” Jisung said quickly and hid the gift behind his back. “You gave them to me.”
“Can you have this conversation somewhere else?!” Mark suddenly groaned. Haechan’s voice was making his headache worse and he really wanted some peace before his rut hit completely. And he definitely wanted to be alone when touched himself to the thought of you. 
The next few days were a blur. Mark lost count of how many times he cummed in his hand, on the bedsheets and finally in a fleshlight that Haechan sneaked into his room as a gift at some point. At first,  ready to reject whatever ridiculous toy he was bringing, he yelled at Haechan to get out and threw a shoe at him, which Haechan avoided just in time by leaving and closing the door behind him. But then Mark caught your scent. It was very faint, but he would recognise it anywhere. Dizzy, he got up, and crawled towards the fleshlight Haechan had left by the door. He inspected it , never before being so mesmerized by a toy, and bringing it close to his face to inhale your scent deeply. “Y/N…”
“I knew you would like it,” Haechan chuckled from the other side of the door, startling Mark. “It’s a small human size.I went to the store and made sure Y/N was the one selling it to me. I asked her to open the product and test it in front of me…,” he teased. “She stuffed her fingers inside of it to demonstrate how flexible the material is.”
Mark groaned and slid his tongue into the toy hungrily, trembling as he got to taste a bit of you before your scent faded away. 
“She asked about you.I told her you were fine and that you were sorry for scaring her. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell her the fleshlight was for you,” Haechan continued, oblivious to what was happening on the other side of the door. “That Jeonghan guy is totally onto me though; he wouldn’t stop glaring at me like I’m the  biggest perv-,” she trailed off as he suddenly heard wet, slippery sounds, indicating that Mark had wasted no time in using his new gift. “Gross! Wait until I’m gone!” Haechan yelled and ran off. Mark was too gone to care, fucking into the toy with intent and imagining it was you. 
No matter how insufferable Haechan was, this would really help him get through his rut more easily. He should thank him later.Later. Now he really couldn’t think with anything but his cock. He let his animal instinct take over and he forgot about everything and everyone except you, and by the time he gained some self control and clarity back, he found the sticky fleshlight completely destroyed in his hands.He panted heavily as he grabbed some tissues to clean himself before he stood up and put some clothes on for the first time in days. As soon as he opened the door he was met with a bag hanging off the handle containing a bottle of water and some energy bars, which he quickly devoured before heading to take a shower. 
“Hey, how are you feeling?” Jeno asked him as soon as he entered the living room where some of the younger members of the pack were hanging out. 
“I’m good,” Mark sighed. “This one was kind of intense, though…”
“We heard,” Jeno said, quickly correcting himself when Renjun nudged him and gave him a pointed look. “I mean, we can imagine.”
“The first rut after meeting your mate is hell if you don’t spend it together,” Jaemin butted in. 
“To be fair, your mate was particularly difficult,” Jeno told Jaemin. “She denied you for months.”
“Which I’m sure won’t be the case for Mark,” Jaemin assured Mark, who was squirming anxiously on his seat. “You already know her name and where to find her, and from what we heard she’s single.”
“Wha-how do you guys know that?”
“Haechan said he couldn’t smell anybody else’s scent on her, besides the guy who works with her,” Renjun clarified. “Just go see her when you feel better-”
 Renjun’s voice was overpowered by loud whines and complaints coming from the main door, where Haechan and Yangyang were making their entrance.
“I didn’t know!” Yangyang sighed tiredly, like he had been forced to repeat the same thing many times. 
“Well now you know, you little traitor,” Haechan hissed, pulling Yangyang’s arm and carrying him to the living room, where everyone stared at them wide-eyed. “Oh, look! Mark is here! Why don’t you tell him who you were planning on letting suck your dick?”
“Look, Mark,” Yangyang gulped, looking anywhere except Mark’s confused face, which was quickly morphing into one of apprehension. “I didn’t mean to- I just-...I was walking back from campus and I saw that new sex shop downtown and there was this hot-” he interrupted himself and looked at Haechan, who was raising his eyebrows at him, encouraging him to go on. “-a woman. I-I saw a woman who was hanging a sign outside the store, something about needing a volunteer to try a new potion. So I asked what it was about, and she said-...” he paused again and breathed in, knowing there was no nice way to say it. “She said it was something that would like, uh- turn off her gag reflex when doing oral, and that she needed a guy whose size was above average and when I asked how she was gonna test it, she said that-...that she tried all her potions herself…So like, she would be the one d-doing the…the sucking,” he trailed off, his voice going quiet as he felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on him.
“...You didn’t,” Renjun was the only one to speak. “...did you?”
“Ugh, I…,” Yangyang groaned. “I’m a man, okay? Why would I say no to a pretty girl sucking me off and giving me cash for it?!” 
“MARK’S MATE GAVE YOU A BLOWJOB?!” Jeno exclaimed incredulously. 
“NO!” Yangyang quickly shut him up and looked for Mark’s lifeless eyes before denying it again. “No. Nothing happened. I had an interview with her and a guy who works there. They measured my cock, asked for a sexual health check-up and told me to come back tomorrow with the results. I called Haechan to ask him about a good clinic to get tested and he practically jumped down my throat,” he explained nervously. “I…I really didn’t know.”
Everyone stayed silent, looking at Mark who was scarily quiet, clenching his jaw and looking at his own hands folded on his lap. “So? Are you going tomorrow?” he asked cautiously.
Yangyang shook his head quickly, but it was Haechan who  spoke. “He isn’t. But you should.”
“Me?!” Mark bawled out. 
“Do you want her sucking somebody else off?!” Haechan spit back. “If it’s not Yangyang, there will be another dude out there who’s willing to do it.”
“Haechan’s got a point there,” Jaemin agreed. “She’s gonna test that potion anyways, and you were lucky that the one finding out about it was one of our pack. She won’t be looking for somebody else because she’s expecting Yangyang to show up tomorrow. This is your chance.”
“But she’s expecting him, not me,” Mark said bitterly. 
“Not at all! She didn’t seem particularly interested in me. She just thought I was hygienic enough, I guess,” Yangyang laughed awkwardly. “It was kind of intimidating how professional she was about it, to be honest.”
“This is the plan,” Haechan asserted, like he had been waiting the entire time to show how much of a mastermind he was. “Yangyang’s gonna call tomorrow before his appointment and let them know that he had an accident or something,” he quickly explained, ignoring Yangyang’s whine of how bad he was at lying. “And then he’ll say that he sent someone to replace him and BOOM! You show up with your STD test results and your monster cock and she falls in love.”
“Then he would have to go get tested right now,” Renjun said, entertaining Haechan’s plan.
“No need!” Haechan laughed like he was revealing the biggest plot twist. “Because last week, I forced Mark to go with me to get my annual check up and he ended up getting tested since he was already there. Who saved the day again? ME!”
“Problem solved, then,” Jaemin beamed, like it was actually that easy.
 Mark nodded slowly and then, when he actually processed what he was agreeing to, he shook his head violently. “No, no way. I can’t do it.”
“What?!” Jeno asked. “Man, you have to!”
“I- I just can’t,” Mark stuttered.
“What, is she ugly?” Jeno asked incredulously. 
“No,” both Mark and Yangyang answered immediately. Mark narrowed his eyes and glared at Yangyang who didn’t seem to think he said anything wrong. “What? She really isn’t,” he tried to defend himself.
Mark sighed. “I literally just met her. I haven’t even asked her out. How am I supposed to-...do that?,” he admitted.
“I understand this may not be your ideal version of a fated meeting,” Renjun spoke in a calming manner. “But if you want to take things slowly, you must know that she will be testing all these…sex potions with somebody else. Are you okay with that?”
Mark shook his head and clenched his fists, biting his lip. Hell, no.  He could never be okay with anybody else touching you now that he met you. But that was exactly what was going to happen if he didn’t man up and showed up to get a platonic blowjob from his mate who didn’t know was his mate and would suck him off for science/magic purposes only. 
 And so, Mark found himself standing outside your store the next evening, wearing an expensive hoodie (to keep it casual, but not broke), gray sweatpants that, according to Haechan, accentuated the goods, brand new boxers and holding a neat folder with his check-up results printed in his hands.He took a deep breath in and stepped towards the door, before stopping himself again but this time the door opened from the inside,and  he was greeted with Jeonghan’s impassive face. 
“Are you gonna come in or not? It stresses me out to see you having whatever internal battle this is in front of my store,” Jeonghan said.
“No-I mean, yes! I was just about-...uh, my brother asked me to- well, he like, sent me to-...,” Mark struggled to get to the point and ended up just giving Jeonghan the folder he was holding. Jeonghan grabbed the folder with a puzzled look, which quickly became one of amusement as he opened it and understood what he had in his hands. 
“You’re Yangyang’s replacement?” he asked, his tone slightly playful.
“Uh, yes…if that’s okay,” Mark said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. What if he wasn’t what they were looking for?
“Well, you’re clean and you seem to have a decent size,” Jeonghan pointed out, looking at Mark’s crotch shamelessly. “I’ll just need to ask you a few questions to make sure we’re good to go. You’re also allowed to ask us anything and back down if you feel it’s too much for you,” he explained, making space for Mark to enter the shop and then hanging a sign indicating that they were closed. He then guided Mark to the room where he had first met you before he had any time to prepare himself. “Hey, Y/N, look who’s back!”
You were not expecting to see Mark at all after what had happened last time. First of all, he had literally fainted in your store, which you thought was enough to make him not want to go back there ever. Secondly, he didn’t seem like the type of guy who would casually go to a sex shop. But there he was, standing in front of you and stuttering something about wanting to volunteer for potion testing. As he was speaking, you found yourself looking down and vividly staring at his dick print, salivating at the idea of having him in your mouth. When you looked back up, your eyes met Jeonghan’s knowing ones and you knew he had caught you red handed. Okay you had a tiny crush on this Mark guy, but what you were about to do was strictly professional. 
“Are you sure you’re okay doing this? Didn’t you go into rut recently?” you asked, indicating for him to sit down in the chair across yours, as Jeonghan took a sit next to you, going over some papers and taking notes. 
“I’m fine. Also…I’m sorry for last time,” Mark rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It must have been shocking.”
“Don’t apologize for that. I-...” you quickly corrected yourself. “We are glad you’re okay. If you want to do this we need to ask you a few questions first, is that okay?”
When Mark nodded, Jeonghan shot the first question. “Are you a virgin?”
“N-no,” Mark stuttered. “I’ve…I’ve had sex.”
“When was the last time you had sexual relationships?” you asked, trying not to make it noticeable that what you actually wanted to know was if he was seeing someone.
“Uh maybe 5 months ago? Or more, I’m not too sure, sorry.”
“No girlfriend? Or boyfriend?” Jeonghan asked, even though that was not one of the questions on the list.
“No, I’m single,” Mark stated more confidently, his eyes darting towards you nervously. 
“Would you be willing to participate in future testing for our products?” you asked, again trying not to show how much you wanted him to say yes.
“Yes,” Mark said firmly, this time staring right into your eyes. He wanted you to call him and only him for whatever you wanted to test. You blushed a little, but quickly hid your face behind some papers you pretended to be reading.
“Did you like the fleshlight?” Jeonghan asked as quickly as Mark answered the previous question, again, not following the script.
“Yes,” Mark answered honestly, caught off guard, and blushing furiously when he properly understood  what he had just admitted. Shit. Fuck. Okay, Mark, keep it cool, nothing wrong with using a fleshlight. Just move on to the next question. “But I split it open, s-sorry,” fuck why would you tell them that, Mark?!
“Oh?” Jeonghan was having the time of his life. “How come? Our toys are very resistant.”
“The toy was g-great! Amazing quality, very soft,” Mark cringed at his own words, because he had no idea how to rate a sex toy and it showed. “It’s just that ruts are… rough,” he said for a lack of a better word to describe how wild things got when his wolf consumed him.
 You gulped and cleared your throat while Jeonghan let out an impressed whistle and took some notes. “I guess we need to make them even more resistant, then,” you said. “Anyways, Jeonghan is going to measure you now so I’ll step out for a minute and come back when you’re ready, okay?”
When Mark agreed, you left the room and went straight to the restroom to wash your face and calm yourself down. Did he really break the toy with his dick? Fuck, he was going to destroy your throat. But then, he was the perfect candidate to test the potion; if you could deep throat him, it meant your creation had been successful. You took a deep breath in and drank the anti-gagging potion before you made your way to the potions room, waiting for your sign to go in. Then Jeonghan came out and wiggled his eyebrows at you, chuckling.
“I’ll bring you some honey and lemon tea for your throat tomorrow,” he said, winking at you and walking towards the counter to count today’s cash. “He’s all yours.”
You rolled your eyes and walked in. “Mark? are you ready?”
 Mark was standing, adjusting the hem of his sweatpants around his hips, giving you a teaser of his defined abdomen and hipbones. He blushed, and nodded. “So… how should we do this?”
“Just take a seat and let me do the rest,” you instructed, quickly kneeling in front of the chair he was now sitting in.
“Y/N,” he suddenly called your name, and his hand stopped yours from pulling the elastic of his pants down.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, your heart dropping at the thought of being rejected. “Did you change your mind?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I was just wondering… Why are you trying the potion yourself? Couldn’t you have found somebody willing to test their gag reflex?”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” you muttered, distracting by the way his thumb was drawing gentle circles on the back of your hand. “But I find it hard to trust other people when it comes to feedback. This is my product so I want to make sure it works. Plus, I happen to have a strong gag reflex; everything makes me choke,” you shrugged, without noticing the way Mark’s breath stuttered. “So if someone can tell if this potion works, it’s me.”
Mark nodded and exhaled. “Is this the very first time you drink this potion?”
“No. I’ve tested it with inanimate objects, like some of the dildos we sell,” you said and Mark hoped you hadn’t noticed the way his dick twitched at the mental image of your pretty lips sucking on a toy. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna vomit all over you,” you chuckled, trying to ease the tension. You wanted Mark to relax, to feel safe with you. “Any more questions?”
 Oh, there was so much that Mark wanted to ask you, like what was your favorite color or if you liked flowers, but he knew it was not the right time, so he just shook his head and released your hand, letting you pull down the waistband carefully. Once you lowered his sweatpants slightly, you looked up at him, looking for any sign of discomfort, but besides the intense blushing that covered his face and ears, he seemed fine, so you took it further by pulling his boxers down enough to release his cock and you gasped out loud. Now you could understand how he managed to destroy the fleshlight.
When you stared at his dick for way too long,Mark got the wrong idea. “You d-don’t have to-“ he tried to say but he ended up hissing when you took him in your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“It’s perfect,” you murmured before remembering you had to keep it professional. “For testing, I mean.”
“O-okay, okay g-glad to hear-ooh!” Mark definitely shouldn’t be trying to have a conversation right now. You had barely touched him and he was already half hard. He should be embarrassed, but he couldn’t even think when you were in your knees between his legs and stroking his cock like that.
 On your side, you knew you didn’t need to be jerking him off. The deal was just to put it in your mouth and see if it could reach your throat without gagging you, but it was like you had no control over your actions right now. Just like last time you had seen Mark, your heart was fluttering and you felt lightheaded and all you wanted was for him to feel good.
 Carefully, you flicked the head of his cock with your tongue, causing his back to arch and his hips to chase your mouth. “S-sorry,” he quickly apologized, already panting. 
“It’s fine,” you purred, your tone a bit too seductive to be professional. Fuck what was Mark doing to you? You were basically drooling as you trailed your tongue from the base to the tip. “I’m gonna put it in now, okay?”
“Fuck,” Mark moaned, throwing his head back and clenching his fist on his sides, not quite knowing what to do with himself. “Y-yes,” he consented.
 You didn’t waste more time, guiding the head of his cock into your mouth and sucking softly, and delighting on the hushed curses that left Mark’s mouth. You worried the problem wouldn’t be your gag reflex; you had underestimated his girth, which was making it difficult to even fit him between your lips. You worked on relaxing your jaw and took a bit more of his cock in, trying your best not to let your teeth scratch him.
“Shit…Y/N,”  Mark sobbed, trembling under you, when his tip met your throat and you successfully swallowed around him.  One of his hands grabbing the hem of his hoodie and lifting it enough to expose his tense lower abdomen. You looked up through your eyelashes, enamored by the way his brows furrowed in pleasure and his chest rose and fell. Before you could think about what you were doing, your hands traveled up, caressing his waist and stomach, which contracted under your hands. Your head bobbed up and down slowly, still trying to remind yourself to be careful of his size in spite of his soft moans driving you crazy.
“Mark,” you call for him, swirling your tongue around the tip teasingly. “Mark,” you repeat when he doesn’t reply, eyes unfocused and mouth agape as he panted. He acknowledged you with a soft ‘hmm?’ and you spoke again. “I need you to fuck my mouth now,” you spoke casually, like you were talking about the weather and Mark could have died right there.
“Wha-,” he stuttered, trying not to panic. “W-what?!”
“I need to check if the potion is still effective when things get rough,” you blushed, hoping not to sound too desperate. In your defense, it was for the sake of the experiment, but a part of you really wanted Mark to fuck your mouth. “You don’t want to?” you whispered, suddenly considering that maybe he wasn’t into you and was only doing this for the money. Maybe he wasn’t enjoying himself as much as you thought. And that shouldn’t bothering you, but it was.
“It’s not that,” he sighed, trying to ignore how hard he was and how badly he did want to face-fuck you. “I’m-...I’m stronger than I look, Y/N. I would ruin you.”
“That’s the point,” you simply said, again trying to help him relax, but also god, did you want it. Mark groaned and clenched his eyes closed, a bead of precum sliding down the head of his cock to your hand that was jerking him off slowly. “So, no?” you asked one last time. Mark bit his lip and avoided your eyes, and you felt officially rejected. “That’s fine, I won’t force you,” you accepted your defeat, trying not to be too bitter about it, slowly letting go of his dick and getting ready to stand up and leave with some dignity. “Please tell Yangyang to come whenever he has time-”
 Now, that seemed to do it for Mark. Before you could stand up or finish speaking, he tangled his hand in your hair and pushed your head down onto him roughly. A guttural moan left his lips and you whined in surprise and looked up to him; his eyes had turned red and his jaw was clenched. Without a word he pulled your hair a little and thrusted his hips up sharply, causing you to let out a muffled cry. 
“Like this?” he panted, placing both his hands on your head and moving you up and down his length fast, his cock hitting the back of your throat with every thrust. “Is this what you w-wanted?” he growled, not even hiding how irritated he was at the thought of you sucking off his pack brother. The way your jaw stretched for him was uncomfortable, but you couldn’t deny this side of Mark was turning you on. You found yourself wondering if this was the way he treated that poor fleshlight. You also wondered if he had, at least for a second, thought of you during his rut. You moaned around him and his eyes rolled back. “Fuuuuck.”
 He quickly brought his eyes back to look at you, like he didn’t want to miss a single detail and thrusted his hips up into your mouth at the same time he guided your head up and down his cock, his moans becoming louder and more desperate, completely forgetting that Jeonghan could probably hear everything from the other room. You looked so pretty, and he hoped you knew that, so he said it.
“You’re so pretty, Y/N,” he said, one of his hands caressing your cheek, while his other hand kept your head in place to take his slower but more forceful thrusts and swallow the salty precum that for some reason tasted addictive to you. You looked up to him, surprised at the sudden gentle words. You knew for a fact there was no way you looked pretty when you were a drooling mess, with sloppy hair and a dick down your throat, but his mouth hanging open in pleasure, forming a perfect ‘o’ shape and the way he looked at you with those intense red eyes filled with lust and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on somehow made you feel like the prettiest girl on earth. You tried your best to hollow your cheeks and swallow around his length and Mark finally lost it, letting out a loud moan that sounded like your name mixed with profanities as hot and thick liquid invaded your tastebuds. Mark kept your head right there while he rode the aftershocks of his orgasm, making sure you swallowed every drop and caressing your hair and praising you until he lost all strength and let his body relax on the chair, releasing the hold he had on you. You let go of his cock with a soft ‘pop’, pulled his pants and boxers back up and rested your head on his thigh, trying to catch your breath and clenching your thighs to get some relief, incredibly aroused. 
“W-was that okay?” Mark asked after a while, hoping you didn’t hate him.
“Yeah…” you replied dreamingly, feeling lightheaded. “Perfect.”
“Y/N,” Mark breathed out, caressing your hair and looking at you lovingly. “Can I…Would you let me make you feel good too?”
“Huh?” you croaked, looking up at him. Mark inhaled deeply and sighed, focusing his eyes on your crotch and then you remembered that wolves had an enhanced sense of smell.He could surely smell how wet you were. How embarrassing. “Oh, no! Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up too quickly and almost falling because your legs were not ready for that. Mark immediately stood up and caught you in his arms, pulling your body and face dangerously close to his. “I- it’s…,” you tried to speak, but it was hard when Mark was close enough to kiss you. “You don’t h-have to, r-really,”
“I want to,” Mark whispered like he was hypnotized, licking his lips and staring at yours hungrily. “Please let me…” 
 Oh, he was trouble. You wanted to say yes to anything he asked from you. But your prideful side reminded you that you had had to basically beg him to fuck your mouth. It wasn’t like he actually wanted you. “No need,” you finally said, pushing him away gently and turning around to search for his payment. You came back to him and offered him an envelope with cash. “Thank you for your help. It looks like the potion works perfectly,” you said politely, becoming your professional persona again, much to Mark’s disappointment. 
He looked from the envelope to your face, until he remembered that, according to you, what had just happened was all business. The fact that you would go on thinking that he would just let anyone suck him off for money made him feel physically ill, but then, he is the one who showed up for the job. He looked away and nodded, before taking the envelope and stuffing it into the pocket of his hoodie, without sparing it a glance. “No problem,” he muttered, dragging his feet towards the exit, but he stopped himself after a couple of steps, addressing you. “Hey, Y/N! Uh… do you, like, maybe- I was wondering if you,” just ask for her number,dude. Why can’t you do it?! “Is there any other potion you need to try?” he asked instead. Mark, you fucking loser.
“Uh…” you pondered for a few seconds. You would love to see him again, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. But he did say he would be willing to participate in future testing during the interview. “There’s something I’m working on these days,” you admitted shyly, shifting around because of the uncomfortable stickiness between your legs. 
“Call me,” Mark said quickly. “Whenever you want to try a new product, call me first,” he added, pointing at the folder where Jeonghan had written all his information, including his phone number. “I’ll t-try them out… with you.”
“O-okay,” you knew you were blushing and you couldn’t even hide the small smile on your lips. Again, you tried not to let it get to your head; for all you knew he could just be desperate for more cash. “We’ll let you know.”
 As soon as Mark got home, he was met with uncountable indiscreet questions. The entire house, and maybe the neighborhood knew he had been out there getting a blowjob.
“Did she fall for you?” Haechan asked, coming from the kitchen with a bottle of champagne ready to be opened. 
“Not even close,” Mark grunted. 
“What?!” he lowered the bottle, disappointed.”What happened?!” 
“She gave me the best orgasm of my life and then gave me money,making it very clear it had been for the sake of her business,” Mark muttered, plopping on the couch as his brothers surrounded him with curious eyes. “Didn’t even let me return the favor…”
“So this is it?” Chenle butted in. “You’re giving up?”
“No, I… I told her I was willing to volunteer to test other products and she said she would let me know if something came up.”
Some of the guys gave each other skeptical looks, communicating with their eyes that they thought you wouldn’t call Mark.
“No. You’re going to that store every damn day if you have to,” Haechan said stubbornly.
“Just because it worked for you, it doesn’t mean it will work for everyone,” Mark sighed, remembering how Haechan had showed up in their mate’s store everyday for months to win her over. “A guy going to a sex shop everyday? She’ll think I’m a perv.”
“Persistence is key,” Haechan insisted, but Mark wasn’t listening anymore. He stood up and left to lock himself in his room, leaning against the door. He took the cash envelope out of his pocket and threw it somewhere on the floor, letting out a frustrated groan. He should have asked for your number like a normal man interested in a woman. Why did he have to be such a coward? He probably wouldn’t hear from you again.
…But he did. After a couple of weeks of him watching the store from afar (while Haechan straight up went to the store and bought whatever just to make sure you weren’t testing any potions with somebody else), one morning he got a call from an unknown number.
“Hello?” he murmured lethargically, still half asleep.
“Hello? Is this, uh…Mark Lee?” your voice asked on the other side of the line.
“Y/N, shit-,” he sat up immediately as soon as he recognised your voice. “Sorry, I was- Y-yes, this is M-mark.”
“Hi, Mark, this is Y/N ,from Pandora’s Box,” you introduced yourself even though you had clearly heard him say your name. “We were wondering if you were still interested in helping us test our products,” you recited just like you had practiced a thousand times before making the call.
“Yes, please!” Mark answered way too quickly. “I mean, I would love to- I… sure, I can help.”
“Would you be available Saturday night?”
“Y-yeah, Saturday sounds great,” honestly, he would have showed up in his pajamas right now if you had asked him to.
“Great! I’ll text you the address. Save my number!” you said quickly and hung up before he could question if it all had been a dream. You put the phone down and glared at Jeonghan. “Happy now?” you asked him sarcastically and he laughed.
“Now, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” he asked back. He had been teasing you ever since the last time Mark had visited the store. Being your best friend meant he could immediately tell when you liked someone and you really really liked Mark. So Jeonghan, being the good friend he was, had been pestering you day and night to call Mark directly instead of recruiting new volunteers to test your potion. 
Still on his bed, Mark was having a thousand different thoughts a second. You’d said you would send him an address. So you wouldn’t meet at the store? And you also told him to save your number… so the phone you used to call him had to be yours, right? Oh god, was this like a date? Just then, a notification of a message from the same number popped up, informing him of the address he had to go to the next day. Nothing more, and nothing less. He bit his lip nervously. Why did you have to keep treating everything like a job? Would it kill you to send an emoji? But he told himself this was no time to be pessimistic. You had called him, and that was a good start.
 And here he was now, on a Saturday night, ringing the bell of an apartment and trying to control his anxiety. 
“Mark?” He was met with your flustered face when you opened the door, wearing an oversized shirt that had him wondering if you were completely bare under it. “You’re early!” you said, pulling the hem of the shirt lower to cover you better. “S-sorry, come in! I’ll just get changed quickly.”
“You don’t have to!” Mark said way too fast, having a hard time to stop looking at your thighs. “I m-mean, you can if you want to, but I…I don’t mind… like, at all.”
You blushed and stared at Mark, not knowing how to reply to that, because he was obviously checking you out.
“I mean, this is your house,” Mark stated. It wasn’t a question; your scent was everywhere. “You get to wear whatever you want, right?” he shrugged, hoping he wasn’t making it that obvious that he didn’t want you to cover up. “Why are we meeting here, by the way?”
“I thought some privacy would be nice,” you said, remembering how Jeonghan made fun of you because of how loud Mark had been last time. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”
“Not all all.”
“Cool,” you sighed. “I just need to add a couple of ingredients and the potion will be ready. Make yourself at home,” you made your way towards the kitchen, deciding not to change clothes, partly because your current outfit was comfortable, but mostly because you secretly enjoyed Mark’s eyes on your body.
Instead of finding a seat and killing time on his phone, Mark followed you, hoping you didn’t mind some company. He leaned against the fridge as he watched you do your thing, trying to come up with something to say to start a conversation.
“How’s your throat?” he finally asked, watching you almost drop the spoon you were holding. 
“Fine,” you gave him a short answer. He didn’t need to know you could barely speak for a couple of days after you deepthroated him.
“Good to hear,” he whispered, watching you with doting eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he confessed. Maybe it was because your aroma was surrounding him, but he found himself feeling more relaxed and open to speak without filtering his words.
“You didn’t hurt me,��� you assured him, not daring to look at him and focusing on your potion instead. “You were…really good.”
“Yeah?” he purred, feeling lightheaded by the domestic view of you wearing nothing but an oversized shirt in the kitchen, wishing he could see this everyday of his life.
“Y-yeah,” you gulped,feeling his eyes boring into you. “Okay, uh-I’m gonna need a drop of your blood,” you changed the topic quickly.
“Sure,” Mark didn’t even question it. You could have all of him. He walked towards you and let you grab his hand, using a needle to prick his index finger as fast and unpainfully as you could, letting a single drop of his blood pour into the cauldron. Immediately after, you did the same to your own finger, letting your blood mix with his in the potion. “What does this potion do?” Mark asked.
You gave him a surprised look. “Didn’t I tell you on the phone?”
Mark shook his head, chuckling. You remembered how you were so nervous you hung up on him as soon as he agreed to help.
“And you still came? Without even knowing-” you gasped when Mark took your hand into his and slid your injured finger into his mouth, softly sucking on it.
“Does it hurt?” he asked gently, giving it little licks,  completely forgetting the conversation you were having just now.
“N-no,” you sighed, confused and nervous at the loving way Mark had been behaving ever since he entered your place. Maybe he was just being nice and you were imagining things. “Anyways, about the potion,” you raised your voice in panic, removing your hand from his and going back to mixing the potion. “It will make you feel what your partner feels. This way, people can know if what they are doing is enjoyable and no one needs to fake their orgasms.”
“Have you?”
“Have I what?” you asked, now pouring the bright pink potion in two different glasses and offering one to him.
“Faked an orgasm?”
“Of course. Not like men care enough to check,” you said, hearing Mark tsk next to you. “So, after we drink this potion, I would need you to touch yourself,” you swallowed nervously, hoping not to scare Mark away with your straightforwardness. “ Nothing too wild, just something that feels good to you and we’ll see if I feel it too… if you are still up for it?”
Mark raised an eyebrow and straight up drank the potion, not leaving a single drop behind. He wouldn’t even dream of letting you try that out with somebody else. “Well?” he asked, tilting his head towards your glass. You hesitated for a moment before drinking the potion too.
“S-so, you can use the bathroom and uh-...do whatever you need t-to do,” you stuttered nervously, showing him where the bathroom was and letting him have some privacy. You assumed he would probably need to watch some porn on his phone or something, but you had no idea your scent already had him on edge. As soon as you sat down on the sofa, you felt a tingling sensation on your neck, which traveled to your shoulders and then your arms. And then it clicked; you were feeling his fingers. He was gently caressing his own body like he would to a lover and you could feel it on yourself. You gasped when the invisible fingers ran down your chest and grazed your nipples softly before toying with them. Oh fuck, the potion really worked.
Mark never took his sweet time like this when touching himself, but just thinking that he was indirectly touching you made him want to seize the opportunity. He closed his eyes and let his hands move like they were exploring your body. He teased himself by running his hands up and down his abdomen several times, always stopping at the waistband before sneaking only the tip of his fingers in, imagining you begging him to get to it.
In the other room, you were mentally begging for him. His faint touches had you trembling and wanting to touch yourself. You didn’t, because you knew he would feel it if you were pleasuring yourself and it would be embarrassing, but god you wanted to. Thankfully, Mark seemed to have mercy on himself-on you- and slid his hand past his boxers, fully palming himself and letting out a moan that echoed past the bathroom walls. You bit your lip to suppress the moan that almost escaped you, quickly crossing your legs at the sudden stimulation, arching your back when you felt slow circles being drawn on your clit. Shit, he was teasing the head of his cock, going from slow big circles to tiny fast ones that had you squirming on your seat. That’s when it hit you that he wasn’t doing this to himself, but to you. This fucker was doing it intentionally. 
 Mark started stroking his cock furiously, knowing it would take you by surprise and smirking victoriously when he heard a whine coming from the living room. He was so thankful for his enhanced hearing right now, because he could hear every little gasp you let out like you were right in front of him. When he felt himself close to his climax he stopped moving his hand and chuckled at the way you whimpered. He pulled his pants back up and exited the bathroom to find you in the living room.
“Did it work?” he asked innocently, trying not to laugh at your frustrated, blushing face. You cleared your throat and opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again and nodded. He eyed you up and licked his lips, before sitting on the couch in front of you. “Shouldn’t we test if it works both ways?”
“W-what?” you croaked, breathing heavily. 
“Don’t you need to know if I feel what your body feels too?” he asked, scanning your body carefully.
Even in your aroused state, you knew he was making sense. Plus, you were so close and desperate to cum you didn’t care if it was embarrassing anymore. But you also wanted to get back at him for teasing you. So you obliged, sliding one of your hands under your shirt right there in front of him. His breath hitched and his eyes widened when he saw what you were doing.He was a bit disappointed when he saw that you were in fact wearing a pair of shorts under your shirt, but he wasn’t going to complain when he had you groping your tits in front of him. He sighed shakily at the way you floundered your breasts, occasionally teasing your nipples.
“Can you feel it?” you asked.
Mark licked his lips and shifted on his seat. If he admitted he felt it, would it be over?Would you give him money and kick him out again? He had to make it last. “I-...I’m not too sure. My nipples are not very sensitive so m-maybe…you could touch somewhere else?” he asked hopefully, letting his eyes fixate on your crotch. 
“You’re not sensitive there?” you teased, sliding your hands down your stomach to your shorts. “But you were touching them so much earlier…”
“Did you like it?” he asked hopefully, his body leaning forward and falling on his knees on the floor, slowly crawling towards you and breathing heavily..
“This isn’t about my pleasure,” you sighed, your words contradicting how wet you were when your fingers made contact with your pussy.
“Why not?” Mark asked, on his knees in front of you, looking at your fingers move up and down under the fabric of your shorts.He swallowed back a moan at the way your teasing touch felt on his own body thanks to the potion. “Why can’t it be?”
“I just w-want the best for my b-business,” you said stubbornly between moans, getting closer to your orgasm when a pair of strong hands stopped yours from moving and you gasped. “M-mark?” 
“Then we should test this shit right, don’t you think?” Mark asked through gritted teeth, his eyes displaying the same red color you saw when he fucked your throat weeks ago. 
“T-test it right?” you repeated dumbly, as he took your hand out of your shorts.
“Do you normally just meet up with sexual partners, watch each other touch themselves and call it a day?” Mark asked you nonchalantly. 
“N-no, but…”
“Isn’t the entire point of this to feel if our partner likes what we do to them?” he clarified, gently placing his hands on each of your knees.
 You froze at his words. Was he suggesting you touched each other? You already liked him way too much for what would be a normal crush. You knew you would fall for him badly if you two went any further.
“Let me,” Mark pleaded, moving his palms up and down your thighs and applying more pressure on a spot on your inner thigh he literally felt you liked better. 
Would it really be that bad to give in? To enjoy yourself a little? To allow yourself to feel something for him?
“Okay…” you finally said and Mark didn’t waste a single second more, pulling your tiny shorts off and groaning at the sight of your wet panties sticking to your pussy. He licked you languidly through the thin fabric and moaned loudly at both the way you tasted and his own body receiving the pleasure he was giving you. 
“O-oh my god,” he whined leaning back in, this time more aggressively, moving his head up and down and lapping and sucking brutally.
“F-fuck,” you moaned, trying to close your legs around Mark’s head, who didn’t seem to care at all. He hummed and slid his hands up your thighs to your ass, grabbing your buttcheeks and pushing you against him harder, which made you tremble and throw your head back. “Mark, oh god, M-mark I’m-...I’m gonna-”
Mark knew. He felt how close you had been to coming so many times in the last half an hour. He himself was close too, so he used one of his hands to stroke himself in sync with his tongue, bringing both of you to such a powerful orgasm you couldn’t even moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body tensed. Your legs fell off Mark’s shoulders as he continued licking you obsessively. 
“Mark,” you moaned, trying to push his head away weakly. “I’m s-sensitive, Mark.”
Again, he knew. He was trembling himself at the overstimulation, but he didn’t want it to end. “Please,” he whined when you managed to put some distance between you. “Just a little bit more, please,” he begged desperately tugging at your panties which ended up tearing apart in his hands. You gasped and he looked at the ruined material he was holding in his hands. He seemed as confused as you were. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to-” he muttered. You remembered how he had told you that he was stronger than he looked, how he had broken one of your best selling toys and now he had destroyed a pair of panties without even trying. Fuck, the things he could do to you. 
You loved it.
You loved him.
Wait, what? You knew your crush on him was weird, because of how your body reacted to your first encounter, how your mind would go to him 24/7 and how you really wanted him to…bite you?? You looked at him, on his knees, staring back at you cautiously; almost like he could tell what you were thinking, like he felt what you felt not only physically…but emotionally. The potion had worked so well, you could feel everything the other felt. The lust, love, possessiveness, the need he had to mate you, you felt it all. 
He had imprinted on you.
“Y/N…” he could sense it; you were terrified. He reached for your hand, but you quickly stood up, pulling your shirt down and walking away from him with wobbly legs, ignoring your ripped panties sliding down your legs. “Y/N, come on…” he called, standing up and going after you, stopping when you turned back to him, offering him an envelope with his payment. 
“Thank you for your help,” you said robotically, looking at the door instead of him, indicating it was his time to leave. 
Mark glared darkly at the damn envelope in your hands. There you went again, being intimate with him, making him feel like his heart could burst out of happiness and then throwing cash at him like he was a hooker. Why did you have to make it feel so dirty? He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to let you go, but maybe he shouldn’t push it too hard. Maybe you needed some space and you could talk later.
“Keep the money,” he sighed, walking uncomfortably towards the door due to the stickiness in his pants. “See you.”
“You won’t,” you spitted, flinching when he turned around quickly and glared at you. “We w-won’t be calling you for future testing.”
Mark tightened his jaw and stared at you for what felt like an entire minute before he decided he was done being the nice guy. Fuck it. If this was the last time he would see you, he wanted to at least know what your fucking problem was. 
“Why not?” he asked, walking towards you and feeling the anxiety build up in your body while you took some steps back. “Didn’t I satisfy you?”
You looked away. You knew it wasn’t fair to treat him like he was part of a transaction, but you didn’t think you were ready for what a wolf imprinted on you meant.
“We came at the same time, didn’t we? We felt everything the other person felt-we still do,” he continued, chuckling when he felt the way your heart skipped a beat at his words. “Didn’t I prove my worth as a test subject? Aren’t I the perfect little toy you wanted?”
His words were playful, but you felt the pain and anger behind them.
“You’re not a toy,” you said as firmly as you could.
“Then don’t treat me like one,” Mark growled. 
“When did I ever-”
“You keep shoving money into my pocket and kicking me out as soon as you’re done with me-”
“That was the deal!” you yelled exasperatedly.
“Screw the deal!” he raised his voice too. “ I can literally feel how much you want me. How much you want me to stay. So why are you making me leave? How long are you going to play with my feelings?” he paused, taking a deep breath in and trying to tune into your emotions, trying his best to understand you. “Are you-...afraid of me?” The way your level of anxiety skyrocketed gave him the answer he needed. “Why? B-because I’m a werewolf? Because of my strength?” he asked sadly.
“No, that’s…that’s not a problem for me,” you admitted shyly. Not wanting to say you were into that.
“Then what are you afraid of?” he asked.
“You imprinted on me,” you confronted him.
“...Yes,” he calmly confessed.
“These…feelings,” you tried to explain, pointing at your body vaguely. “All these things you’re feeling right now, and that now I can feel too… do you- do you feel them all the t-time?”
“Yeah, especially when I think about you,” he sighed. “...which is pretty much all the time.”
“H-how-” you breathed with difficulty. “How do you c-control them? They are so…intense.”
“I don’t,” Mark simply said. “I tried to tone them down at first, but I just made it harder for myself. I accept them and let them control me once in a while.”
“L-let them control you?!” you repeated incredulously. 
“Ah, so this is what this is about,” Mark threw his head back and let out a breathy laugh. “You have control issues.”
 You scoffed, walking angrily towards the kitchen. Not that you had anything to do there, you just wanted to get away.
“Am I wrong?” he challenged, chasing after you. “You’re annoyed because you can’t control the way you feel for me,” he cornered you against the kitchen counter, making you face his red eyes. “And you can’t control me.”
 You visibly shivered at that. “Mark…” 
“I came here because I wanted you. I ate you out because I’ve wanted to taste you since I first saw you. I love feeling this way about you and I have no intention of controlling it,” he whispered, taking a step closer to you, leaving almost no space between you.
 You breathed heavily. His feelings were too intense for your body to take. “Then who’s g-going to be in control?” you asked nervously.
He chuckled. “None of us,” he replied like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Just let go,” he purred against your lips. “Allow yourself to feel it. Feel me.”
So you did. You crashed your lips against his and brought his body into yours desperately, tugging at his hair and moaning wantonly. He cursed under his breath and shoved his tongue into your mouth, tasting every bit of you he could. You pulled away to breath, which was still hard with how tense you were. “Relax,” Mark murmured, kissing down your neck and nipping at your collarbones. “Feel everything. I got you, pretty girl.”
 You inhaled and exhaled slowly, feeling all tension leave your body while Mark’s mouth and hands worshiped your body. A warm sensation filled you and a shiver ran down your spine when you allowed yourself to lose control. “F-fuck, oh my god, Mark-” you moaned out loud when he took your shirt off and attached himself to your tits, licking them obscenely. There was nothing soft and gentle about the way you both were behaving, with your fingers pulling his hair and him humping you desperately, like you both couldn’t wait any longer. The fact that you could feel anything the other could, made it a thousand times more intense. 
“F-fuck I’m gonna cum like this,” Mark whined, rutting his clothed cock against your bare pussy faster, burying his head between your breasts and holding your body tightly against his. The constant friction on your clit had you gasping for air and you soon felt yourself cumming, staining his pants and shaking at the second orgasm you two had shared that night. 
Before you had any time to recover, Mark lifted you off the ground and sat you on the kitchen counter, taking his shirt off and stepping out of his pants and boxers carelessly. He positioned himself between your legs and pressed his naked body against yours, bringing your lips to his for another passionate kiss, and allowing his hands to touch every corner of you. 
Unconsciously you found yourself pressing your hips into his, moaning at the wet sounds that could be heard whenever his cock moved against your wet pussy. He was panting heavily into the messy kiss, physically shaking because of how much he wanted to be inside of you.
“Put it in, god, please, put it in,” you begged him.
“Shit, Y/N,” he groaned, giving you one last kiss before lining up his cock with your entrance and wincing when he could barely slide the tip in. “Y/N, y-you can’t take it-”
“I can, please-please Mark I...,” you slurred your words, grabbing his hips and trying to force him deeper into you. “I c-can.”
“You’re in pain, Y/N,” Mark hissed. The effects of the potion had faded away, but he wasn’t an idiot. He only needed to look at his size and then at yours.
“But, Mark,” you whined, kissing a spot on his neck that had him moaning out loud. “I really want it.”
He took a moment to think.He wanted it too, but he didn’t want to hurt you. 
“J-just go slowly, hmm?” you suggested as an alternative to stopping completely. 
Mark nodded. Slow, yeah. He could do that. “D-don’t move,” he warned you, sliding just a tiny bit more of his huge dick into your tight wet hole and groaning when your walls contracted around him. Okay, maybe he couldn’t do it. “Y/N, don’t do that…”
 He looked up to your face and saw that it was pointless to give you any orders right now. Your unfocused eyes and the way you bit your lip created an erotic sight that he would never be able to forget. “Fuck, Y/N” he pushed into you some more while looking at your blissful face and laughed in disbelief. “You’re fucking loving this, aren’t you?” he asked. When you only nodded dumbly, he inhaled sharply and kissed you hungrily, snapping his hips into yours harshly and holding your spasming body against his.
“Shit, d-did you just come?!” Mark asked incredulously, delivering kisses on the corner of your lips and all over your face while you sobbed. “You’re f-fucking insane, did you k-know that?” he spoke as he started fucking you fast and rough from the get go. “So pretty and s-sensitive, just for me.”
“S-so big,” you cried out.
“Yeah?” he cooed, changing the way he was fucking you to slow but deep. “Too big for my pretty girl?” god, he just loved how your eyes rolled back into your head and your hands reached blindly for something to hold onto, dropping a few kitchen supplies into the floor. “But you said you c-could take it, didn’t you?” he asked, thrusting into you particularly hard and making you scream.
“I gah-I c-can, I can,” you insisted, tears running down your face, which Mark quickly wiped off before he kissed you. “F-uh, faster-” you whined in between kisses.
“Faster?” Mark’s crimson eyes gleamed mischievously, and his hips snapped into yours fast twice, teasing you. “Is this no good?” he asked, resuming his slow pace at sliding in and out of you. You shook your head and tried to bring him closer with your legs around his waist. “Don’t you want to feel every.inch.of.me?” he hissed, accentuated each of the last words with sharp thrusts into your pussy.
You murmured something that Mark couldn’t quite understand, so he stopped his movements to let you catch your breath. “What was that?” he asked you, caressing your cheek. “Tell me, pretty girl.”
“B-bite me…” you croaked weakly.
 Mark’s cock twitched inside of you and it took all of his self control not to come right in that moment. 
“Don’t play with me, Y/N…” he warned you.
You shook your head, moving your hips against his and pulling his hair to bring him dangerously close to your neck. He gasped, salivating at the chance he was being given.
“Bite me, Mark…” you repeated and shuddered when he snarled against your skin and sank his teeth into your neck. You mewled and threw your head back, holding onto his shoulders. “O-oh god, Mark, M-mark fuck-ah!” 
 Without detaching his mouth from your neck, Mark went back to fucking you, this time fast and animalistically like you had asked him to, the pace so fierce that your moans were coming out as staccatos. 
“Uh-uh-aah-ah fuck-fuck, Ma-ark!” you sobbed, sure he was gonna break you, but loving every second of it. 
Mark could not stop as his cock started growing inside of you. “Y/N, Y/N shiiit gonna-...gonna k-knot you fuh- fuck, s-so pretty,” he panted against your neck, giving it gentle kisses as an apology for what he was about to do. “Oh, fuck- ooooh yeah, y-yeah-” he gasped and plunged into you viciously fast, letting his eyes roll to the back of his head and drooling all over your neck  as his abdomen contracted and spurts of cum spilled into you, knot securing it all inside your tight pussy. “Y/N-...Y/N, fuck,” he groaned as you scratched his back, leaving angry red marks all over him.
“Holy shit,” he breathed out once his fluttering heart calmed down enough for him to speak. “My pretty girl,” he purred, pecking your neck and then looking for your lips to kiss you lovingly. “All mine.”
“Yours,” you murmured against his lips, allowing him to kiss you again and again. "And you're mine."
“Does that mean you won’t try your potions on other men?” he asked you, half joking, half serious. 
“Why would I need to? You’re my perfect little toy, after all,” you teased him back, making him groan at the way you used his own words against him. “I’m joking.You’re not a toy,” you clarified, kissing him sweetly and looking into his eyes. “But you’re perfect.”
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oddinary4bts · 2 months
Text
Chasing Cars | ch 11.5 (jjk)
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☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters contain mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: the events of ch 11 in jk's pov
☆word count: 1.2k
☆a/n: this one made me sad :( hope you guys like it! I've purposefully not put the full explanation bc it hits better later in the story sooo sorry about that. also just a note that depression sucks and I hope none of you guys have to deal with it and, if you do, please know that you aren't alone <3
☆series masterpost
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Jungkook is annoyed. He’s been annoyed all day, and he really just wants to go home.
To go home to you.
“What’s got you sulking?” Jimin asks, and four pairs of eyes shoot towards Jungkook.
Indeed, they are at the restaurant for lunch, Gabrielle having joined them to eat on her lunch break from her internship. 
“Nothing,” Jungkook says, grabbing his glass of water and taking a long sip.
Taehyung frowns, yet remains silent. It’s been happening a lot frequently, and Jungkook has truly, really been annoyed by it.
“Missing OC?” Jimin teases, wiggling his eyebrows and earning a punch in the shoulder by Sera.
“Shut up,” she says as Jungkook clenches his jaw.
“Will you please fucking stop with that?” Jungkook lets out, unable to keep his ire from his voice.
Jimin’s gaze widens, and then he laughs. “Why are you getting so worked up?”
“Maybe because you’ve been a little shit about this the whole week?”
“You’re aware it’s making it seem like it’s true…”
“Stop, Jimin,” Sera intervenes, her tone stern and authoritative.
The only tone Jimin ever listens to. Indeed, Jimin stops, pouting, and he mumbles an apology. Jungkook ignores it, his gaze shifting to Taehyung, and he doesn’t miss the muscle feathering under Taehyung’s skin as he clenches his jaw.
“What?” Jungkook spits, unable to help himself.
“You fucking my sister?”
Jungkook lets out a bitter laugh, his heart clenching in his chest. “Nope. You guys need to fucking leave me alone is all.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything. This time, it’s Ariane’s turn to talk, and she does so with a pointed glare at Taehyung.
“I thought we said yesterday that we weren’t going to talk about her anymore.”
They did. Because scenes like this one have been happening the whole trip, and Jungkook really just wants to go home. The thought sticks around all day, up until they’ve had their shares of drink back at the Air Bnb, not feeling like going out.
Maybe Jungkook’s foul mood has been contributing to everyone’s lack of enthusiasm about going out, but he wouldn’t complain. He’d much rather stay at the Air Bnb, where he doesn’t have to avoid girls coming up to him trying to flirt.
Except Gabrielle. Though it’s not like that with Gabrielle, and he knows she’s a safe space. As much as someone can be without knowing about you - he reckons his only true safe space is you.
Perhaps that’s why he ends up sitting in his room with Gabrielle while the others chill in the living room. Partly to catch up, but also mostly to laugh at the absurdity of their parents wanting them to marry, as if they ever would.
“They’re crazy,” Gabrielle repeats for the hundredth time. “Complètement fou.”
Jungkook nods. “It’s nothing new. They’ve been like that since high school.”
Gabrielle chuckles, turning her head towards Jungkook. “Is your dad still an asshole?”
Jungkook winces, because he feels like his father has only been getting worse and worse with time, finding new ways to put Jungkook through hell all the time. Though the ignoring has been better than the fights and the constant insults he’d used to receive when he was younger, if he’s being honest.
“Yup. You really think someone like him could change for the better?”
Gabrielle slightly shakes her head. “Nah. People like our parents will die as shitty as they were the day they were born.”
Jungkook likes to think that his parents weren’t always like this. That, perhaps they were just corrupted by money growing up. But then again he can’t reconcile the image of his parents being kind to the one that he knows, that he’s known all his life.
So instead, he raises his beer. “Cheers to that.”
There’s a silence as Gabrielle drinks from the wine bottle she carried to the bedroom when they left the rest of the group back in the living room. Jungkook’s thoughts trail to you, and he wonders what you’re up to right now. You mentioned you were going out with your friends - are you already with them, or are you at home thinking about him like he’s thinking about you, too?
“What’s going on with Taehyung’s sister?” Gabrielle asks out of the blue.
Jungkook freezes like a deer in headlights. And though he wishes to say everything, to tell Gabrielle about what he feels for you, he knows he can’t. Not as long as you haven’t said it’s okay to talk about it.
And not when Gabrielle would likely tell Ariane, and Ariane would then tell Taehyung.
“Not you too,” Jungkook grumbles, and he hopes Gabrielle can’t spy the blush slowly dusting his cheeks, up to the tip of his ears.
“I’m just wondering!” Gabrielle says, and she lets out a small laugh before pushing a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve seen pictures, I feel like she would be your type.”
Jungkook makes a noncommittal sound as he shrugs his shoulders.
“So?” Gabrielle presses.
“So what?”
She rolls her eyes, laughing again. “Is something going on between you and her?”
Jungkook takes a deep breath, preparing himself to lie to the one person that he’s never had to lie to before. “No.”
Gabrielle remains silent, the weight of her gaze on his profile heavy, and then she sighs. “Then, can I ask for your help?”
He stiffens. “What for?”
He knows what to expect - it’s the same as back when they were in high school, and she’d needed his help more than once then. Though he’d used not to mind, this time he hates it. So much so that he gets up, heading towards the door.
“Please,” Gabrielle says, stopping him with a hand on his wrist. “S’il-te-plait, Jungkook.”
“No,” he reaffirms, turning to face her. He thinks of you, thinks of the last time he kissed you, and wishes he was with you right now. “I can’t do this again.”
“Just this once,” she insists. “And then I will never ever ask that of you again.”
He thinks of the years. He thinks of Gabrielle defending him when his father insulted him during a dinner, or that time at the charity. He thinks about every night they’d fallen asleep in the same bed dreaming about a day where they wouldn’t have to worry about their family’s influence anymore. He’d thought she’d be okay now, independent as she was, but it seems she hasn’t escaped the pressure of her family yet, much like him.
“Gaby, I really can’t…” he trails off, scanning her features, hoping that she’ll understand, that she’ll know you are in his life and would never do something like that to you.
“Please,” Gaby says, her gaze begging.
He hates himself. He always has, more than he’d ever care to admit, but Jungkook hates himself too much for what he says next.
“Just this once.”
It’s like the universe was planning for this to happen anyway. Indeed, there’s laughter behind the door, and Gabrielle immediately grabs his face, pulling him down into a kiss. Jungkook closes his eyes, tells himself that you’ll understand, that he won’t lose you. 
When Gabrielle pulls away, looking just as uncomfortable as him, Jungkook whispers, “Don’t ever fucking do that again.”
It’s easy, after, to pretend that the tears in his eyes are caused by Gabrielle. Even as Taehyung claps him on the shoulder as if to congratulate him, Jungkook doesn’t have to hide how much he aches from the inside out.
Gabrielle leaves, and Jungkook goes to bed right away, wishing to be able to skip time until he can see you again.
Until he can prove to himself that he hasn’t lost you.
Read chapter eleven here!
☆☆☆☆☆
:((((( i hate myself for hurting the babies so much.. please come scream at me
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
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OMG Clandestine is done!
I am so so so excited to say I just posted the epilogue to Clandestine! Featuring a beautiful commission from @itslotuseater!
Ships: Jegulus, background wolfstar, dorlene, pandalily, rosekiller Rating: M Length: 142k (FINISHED! COMPLETED! AHH!)
Summary:
He was crying. “You can do that?” He repeated, feeling like he was in some sort of dream. And then, Sirius seemed to realize. Because for a twelve-year-old, he was decently smart, and knew him better than anyone. “D’you…d’you want to do that, Reggie? I thought…I thought it was just a game?” But he could only shake his head. Because it wasn't a game. He was a boy. And he could tell from Sirius's nervously resigned expression that Sirius knew it, too. "It's...not a game." --- There's not enough Trans Regulus Black, so here's a fic to help fix the problem. Rated mature for lots of references to transphobia and Walburga Black being a piece of shit. COMPLETED (I'm not crying, you are)
Ahhh, my long-winded thank-you note:
First and foremost, thank you to Arson, my amazing Alpha Reader who brainrotted with me throughout almost the entire process. I literally could not have finished this without you, and I am so thankful to have you in my life. You've helped me through so many cases of horrible Writer's Block, encouraged me whenever I needed it, and you're an amazing friend. I hope you love your "Barty and Evan's Bitch" shirt :D
Second, to my wife, who literally dealt with me talking about this fic for TEN MONTHS. You're literally the most amazing and supportive person in my life, and I love you more than words. Thank you for being the James to my Regulus.
Third, to my Beta Reader, Kat, who is still wading through the trenches of this fic finding all my mistakes. I am so glad to have you and thank you for dealing with all of my errors and answering my messages at odd hours of the night.
Fourth, to all of the people who have encouraged me: Abby, Danielle, Kelz, everyone on the discord servers who has seen me struggle, you guys are amazing and I am so thankful to you.
Fifth, to the lovely people who created fanart for this fic. You all are amazing and you brought this to life. I bow down to you, truly, you are so incredibly talented.
Sixth, to the people who I interviewed about dysphoria and being on T, so I could have a more well-rounded understanding about Regulus's experience. Though I identify as trans, I am so thankful that other trans people were willing to give their experiences in areas I wanted to describe as accurately as possible.
And last, to all of you, who read and kudosed and inboxed and recommended and commented and kept me going. You all are amazing, and you've made this such a positive experience. This fic really was for me, to work through my own gender an discover about myself, and I am so thankful you have been here along this journey.
I want to reiterate that this is one trans person's journey, but I think it's so important to have representation in all forms of media. I'm hoping that my version of Reggie has helped with that a little bit! He's my baby, and he deserves all the good things.
Keep an eye out for the B-sides of this fic! I'll add a chapter to this work linking to it, so if you're subscribed to this, you'll get an e-mail. I'll also be editing this work to fix all the errors, and I'll be doing the B-sides as I go. It probably won't be for a couple of weeks, since I am now working, and I won't have any strict posting schedule, but I'm excited for those as well!
I love you all. Thanks for being a part of this journey.
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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months
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you're not jonathan
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'no upside down au' rated t wc: 997 cw: recreational drug use, language tags: meet-ugly turned meet-cute, flirting, somewhat ambiguous ending but we all know what's gonna happen
🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿
Steve was not supposed to be the one picking up the drugs for the party.
He wasn't even going to the party.
But Jonathan couldn't get it from his usual guy, said he was back home in California for the summer, and it wasn't like Robin had a hookup.
Eddie Munson didn't technically deal anymore, but he made exceptions for previous customers, and Jonathan had been a regular during high school.
It wasn't shocking news to Steve, but what was shocking was hearing all these stories about how Eddie didn't even usually meet someone during daylight hours. Except today, apparently.
Steve tripped over another branch, barely caught himself before falling on his face.
"I better get so high off this shit," he said to himself.
"I only sell the good shit."
Steve froze.
Somehow, he'd missed a person walking up to him, probably when he nearly ate dirt.
"Is there any reason a hike is required to get some weed?" Steve asked, brushing his hands on his pants to get the remnants of the tree trunk he saved himself on.
Eddie crossed his arms in front of him, raising an unimpressed brow.
"No. Jonathan suggested the place."
Hard to believe the guy who hated being outside for more than a few minutes would have suggested a half mile trek into the woods, but Steve didn't really care to argue.
"O...kay. Well, I've got the cash if you wanna get this over with," Steve said as he reached into his pockets that were..."Fuck."
He started patting his pockets, his shirt, looking around him at the ground to try to find his wallet.
"Everything okay?" Eddie asked, coming closer.
"I lost my wallet. Shit!"
"Alright, I can help you look, man. It's not a big deal. Gotta be somewhere, right?" Eddie started looking around him, though it was half-hearted at best. "What's it look like?"
"It's brown. Um, leather?" Steve suddenly forgot any other details about his wallet. How convenient.
"Okay, so the color of the ground. Should be easy."
Steve snorted.
Eddie was smirking as he walked the way Steve came, checking the ground around him as he did so.
Steve followed behind, but he was pretty certain they wouldn't find it.
After ten minutes of looking, Eddie sighed.
"We should just smoke a bit. Take the edge off. Ya know?"
"I don't think that's a good idea. I can't pay you until I find my wallet," Steve said as he continued looking, bending down to get a closer look at a spot that seemed like the color of his wallet.
"On the house."
Steve stood straight up.
"Really?"
"Can't really kick ya when you're down, can I? Plus, I planned on smoking after you left anyway. We can share," Eddie shrugged, like it was no big deal.
Steve had never gotten high outside of house parties, the comfort of his own home or a friend's home soothing his anxieties about losing his inhibitions.
But out here? With Eddie? It didn't seem like a smart thing to do.
"Alright," Steve shrugged back.
Eddie must have sensed something about him, though, because he didn't let him take more than three puffs of the joint before he put it out and found a collection of boulders for them to sit on.
"You ever think about how trees are alive but they don't have ears?" Steve asked a minute later.
"Oh, you're that kind of high." Eddie poked his hand, making him look over at him. "You eat today?"
"Maybe. I've been busy. Do you think trees get hungry?" Steve replied.
Eddie searched his face before letting his pinky rest against Steve's hand on the rock.
It felt like fire.
"They do."
"But they don't have pancakes or cheeseburgers. Like, we can't grind it up and put it in the dirt for them, right?" Steve's jaw dropped. "Can we?"
Eddie watched as Steve looked over at some of the trees surrounding them.
"I don't think we can, no."
"A shame. They're missin' out. You know who else is missin' out? Jonathan! He made me come here and he didn't even tell me you had long hair or like the nicest eyelashes. Which is weird because he didn't shut up about anything else about you but he forgot about the eyelashes!" Steve's hand curled around Eddie's pinky. "And you look warm."
Eddie's brows raised.
He wasn't sure who Steve was. Jonathan had just insisted he was cool.
But Jonathan hadn't mentioned that his hair looked softer than silk, or that his eyes were wide and innocent despite his lip curling up in the corner in annoyance.
Jonathan seemed to have left a lot of things out.
"Well, it is summer. It's pretty warm," Eddie gulped. "But you do look a little cold."
"I get cold easy. Robin says it's because I don't eat enough red meat or something. Low irony or something."
Eddie was so endeared.
"I could help you stay warm? Walk you back to your car if you want?"
Eddie did not want that, but he knew Steve probably needed to walk off some of this high before his friends started to worry about him.
"Don't wanna walk," Steve leaned his head on Eddie's shoulder. "My head is walking."
"Should I try to head back and get one of your friends?"
Steve shook his head.
"Be fine in an hour."
"Okay," Eddie put his arm around Steve's shoulder, surprised to find that Steve was shivering. "Hey, you okay?"
"You do have good shit."
"That's not an answer," Eddie chuckled.
"I'm good. Best."
Eddie let him burrow further into his side and waited for his shivering to subside before he suggested heading back to his car again.
Steve still refused, and Eddie didn't have it in him to push.
Not when they were finding shapes in the clouds and he was holding Steve close.
He'd definitely owe Jonathan a lot of product if this went the way he wanted it to.
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theresattrpgforthat · 1 month
Note
I'm looking for TTRPGs that have... for lack of a better way of putting it, mechanics where like, your character is under a profound amount of stress, and if they don't manage it and additional stress that comes in, they'll break or snap and do something horrible and then have to deal with the consequences. So something that mechanically 'forces' your character to do something they'd normally never do due to external stressors.
THEME: Stress Clocks.
Oh this is my shit. Get ready for a Hall of Fame style of recommendations from me this week (as well as a bit of self-advertising)!
Also a note: this was (mostly) a chance for me to get very excited about a number of games that have specifically inspired me, and I am aware that it means that I’ve kind of neglected certain houses of design as a result. For this post especially, I encourage anyone who can think of a game that fits this request that isn’t listed here to give it a shout out in the reblog and the replies!
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Mothership, by Tuesday Knight Games.
Mothership is a sci-fi horror roleplaying game where you and your crew try to survive in the most inhospitable environment in the universe: outer space! You'll excavate dangerous derelict spacecraft, explore strange unknown worlds, exterminate hostile alien life, and examine the horrors that encroach upon your every move.
Mothership inflicts Stress upon you with every failure, and hitting your Stress cap reduces your most relevant Stat or Save, thereby consistency reducing your chances of success with every roll. That’s not all though - your Stress cap also makes it harder and harder to stop your character from panicking, by representing the threshold you must beat every time you make a Panic Check. If you roll less than or equal to your current Stress rating, you must take on a new Panic condition.
You make Panic checks whenever you roll a critical failure, but also whenever you witness something traumatic. These conditions don’t necessarily force your character to do anything, but they represent the toll that being in a constantly hostile environment takes on your mind and body. You have to work harder and harder to prevent your character from attacking allies, giving in to the demands of whatever is haunting their psyche, or going straight-up catatonic.
You can also try to mitigate this stress and panic by resting and doing something that helps relieve the pressure - having sex, taking drugs, praying, etc. There’s even a Shore Leave mechanic for long-term games that allow your character to turn their stress into a character improvement.
In some respect, these conditions remind me of the Morality and Clarity tracks of Chronicles of Darkness and Changeling: the Lost, but with less of the errant language around mental health. The dice rolls also make the consequences much less predictable, so if you want to be surprised by what exactly causes your character to snap, I recommend Mothership.
Urban Shadows, by Magpie Games.
The streets bleed shadows as the supernatural politics of the city threaten to swallow you whole. Will you die a hero—a savior for those who have never had enough—or live long enough to become the villain? Will you fight the darkness…or give in for power?
The choice is yours. 
Urban Shadows is an urban fantasy tabletop roleplaying game in which mortals and monsters vie for control of a modern-day city, a political battleground layered just under the reality we think we know. Vampires, faeries, hunters, and wizards fight to carve out a piece of the streets and skyscrapers, ready to make deals with all those who have something to offer. 
The ‘consequences’ track for Urban Shadows is called Corruption. Each character playbook in this game has a couple of special moves called Corruption Moves, and when you start playing, you start with two Drama Moves the tie into this. The Drama Moves describe specific situations in which your character must mark Corruption. If you fill your Corruption track, you take a Corruption Move. Corruption moves give you special powers that are super-effective, but fill up your Corruption track faster. You can only fill your Corruption track so many times - fill it one too many and your character must be retired, because they’ve just become an antagonist.
I really like how this feels like a slow descent that speeds up the more you lean into it. Your character is consistently tempted to give into their darker sides in order to keep themselves afloat in this unforgiving city - but lean too far and they become exactly the kind of person they were hoping to stop.
Antiquarian Adventures, by acegiak.
Antiquarian Adventures is a pulpy tomb raiding and treasure hunting Blades In The Dark hack in the style of Tomb Raider, Indiana Jones, National Treasure, and The Mummy.
So Antiquarian Adventures is a pulp game. It’s not grim dark in any sense of the word, but I think it introduces a unique use of the Blades’ Stress mechanic in a special “ability” that happens when your character uses up all of their Composure (this is the “Stress” of this gam). Once you’ve used up all of your Composure, you cannot resist anything that comes your way and your dice pools are reduce to 0 until you do something (specific to your playbook) that usually invites a new consequence.
For example, The Veteran’s version of this is called “Not As Quick As I Used To Be,” which hamstrings the character until the player allows themself to be left behind or separated from their comrades. This kind of mechanic has directly inspired one of the projects that I’m working on, and I think that if you tweak the amount of Composure your character has, or makes the reaction harsher, you could absolutely make it work for a game that’s a bit grittier than Antiquarian Adventures.
Last Fleet, by Black Armada Games
The last of humanity are fleeing across space, pursued by the implacable inhuman adversary that destroyed their civilisation. They're outnumbered and outgunned. Supplies are running low. The actions of a brave few could be all that stands between humanity and extinction.
Welcome to the Last Fleet.
Last Fleet is a PBTA tabletop roleplaying game where you play brave pilots, officers, engineers, politicians and journalists struggling to hold the human race - and themselves - together under unbelievable pressure. The game focuses on action, intrigue and drama in this high-stakes situation. You'll fight space battles, search for enemy infiltrators, tackle supply shortages and navigate faction politics. You'll strive against your own self-doubt and sometimes crack under the stress.
Last Fleet has something called a Pressure Mechanic, which can be used as a player resource, but also activates when you take weather harm or get called out on your shit. Hit your cap? Clear your Pressure and take a Breaking Point action, which often puts you at odds with the other characters, making the situation worse. The whole situation is a designed to act as a pressure cooker, making the situation harder and harder to bear until you finally pop. I love it, and it’s also a direct influence on one of my games.
Apocalypse Keys, by Rae Nedjadi (@temporalhiccup)
Unmask your feelings, uncage your ruination… The Doomsday Clock is ticking down and emotions run high as you and your team of DIVISION agents struggle to find the Keys before the villainous Harbingers unlock the Doors of Power and bring about the apocalypse.
As an Omen class monster, you are the only thing capable of holding back the apocalypse. Combat occult threats and investigate supernatural phenomena alongside your team of supernatural agents working for the shadowy DIVISION. But in a world that shuns monsters like you, only your deepest, most heartfelt bonds can grant you the power to stop those who seek to unlock Doom’s Door.
Taking cues from Urban Shadows, Apocalypse Keys gives you a Ruin track to follow as your monsters try to stop the world from ending. The Ruin track gives you a Ruin advance every time you fill it, unlocking Ruin Moves, permanently marking character conditions, and eventually forcing your character to turn into a Harbinger if you let it. Your Ruin moves are powerful and dark, generating even more Ruin when you use them, and in some cases (like with the Hungry’s "Only Hunger Remains" move), your character can actually halt the current mystery as they get close enough to becoming a Harbinger that the entire party will have to work together to stop you from ripping the world apart.
Protect the Child, by Mint-Rabbit (that’s me!).
Humans have always been protective of their young, sometimes overly so. Humans have also always feared that which might make their young strange or different, and so insist that only humans can raise their own young. Monsters cannot raise human young. This is known.
You have a human baby. You cannot find its parents. What is even worse, is that this child has powers, powers that others covet, and so everyone wants it. If you want to prove that you’re not the heartless monster that everyone says you are, that means you’ll have to raise it, at least until you find someone who is better suited to it than you. 
You are creatures of fur, scales and fangs. You have claws that can rend flesh, faces that can crack mirrors, howls that can cause ears to bleed. 
And your charge wants a blankie.
Protect the Child is a Forged in the Dark game about monsters caring for a young human, a human who contains strange and mystical powers that make them a valuable asset in any monster crew. The setting and factions present in this game are flexible: you might be aliens in a far-flung future galaxy, fantasy monsters from rival kingdoms, or even everyday wild animals that fear human society. 
Alright, so this is my baby and I can tell you exactly how to push your character towards some really unhealthy coping mechanisms. In Protect the Child, your character is constantly battling the stress of being a parent. Stress, like in other Forged in the Dark games, is a player resource, but it’s also inflicted on you when you resist consequences, and when the kid has an emotional breakdown.
Should your stress clock fill up, you’ll have to take a reaction from the list attached to your playbook before you can take more Stress, and these reactions range from doing something for selfish gains to lashing out to your fellow monsters to being fully monstrous at exactly the worst time. Your tools to manage this stress are also limited - you have to be willing to confront your fellow monsters and be honest about your relationships with each-other if you want to stop your emotional kettle from whistling all of the time. If you want a game where building relationships is the only way to deal with the pressures of monster-parenting, then check out Protect the Child!
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evilminji · 4 months
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Behold! o/ The Face Of Benevolent Evil!
Mr. Principle! A professional hero and educator!
Also possibly some sort of stoat hybrid! Certainly a chimera of Japanese fauna! With the Quirk High Specs, he is one of, if not THE, smartest beings on the planet of which he resides! With a background perfectly justifying a decent into hatred and villiany, he instead chose to channel his incredible world shaking intellect into the shaping of future generations!
He likes to fuck with people!
For FUNSIES~☆!
What can he say? It keeps a man young and mentally stimulated! Plus the hysterical screaming of his staff and students is HILARIOUS. He can even argue it makes for good reaction training! Unforseen situations, children! React!!! *psychotic chortling*
Mmmmm, yes. We all have our trauma responses. Ways we deal with them. He should probably find other means... but he won't! Tea and tormenting the student body make for good future heroes, you know! They adapt!
But! You may ask! Why am I introducing you to this... *polite yet somehow deeply threatening smile* c-completely sane and normal individual!? Esteemed educator that he is! Ha ha...
A good and not at a under threat question!
Villains? Are fuuuuuckin STUPID!
Doesn't matter how many PHDs you possess! In fact! That makes it WORSE! You moron! You absolute fool! No traveling circus would have you, you sub-rate CLOWN of a jingle jangle dunce jester! You have a god damn PHD! Possibly MULTIPLE PHD!
And you thought "ooooh I should go into cwiiiiime~☆"?
Do you hear yourself when you talk? DO YOU?! Ooooh boohoo. They won't let you study what you WANT to study. It's called an ETHICS BOARD. And YEAH, NO SHIT! Maybe get over it and keep you fucked up fantasies to your SELF.
Or? If you REALLY can't hold it in? Lay the ground work like EVERYONE FUCKING ELSE! You're not special! Everyone wants to play god! It's FUN! They let you have the COOL toys! But you have to EARN that shit! Not jump straight from graduation to "fucked up superscience"!
And? If it's NOT the Ethics Board? But just some bureaucrat on a power trip? You don't have to fucking STAY. This? This RIGHT HERE? Is why I-Island fucking EXSISTS.
APPLY.
They are SO MANY countries you could move too. SO MANY other labs. You actual DUMBASS.
But NO! You decided to commit to a fucked up underground Villian Lab. As though HUNTING THOSE isn't the PERSONAL fucking passion project of THE SMARTEST BEING IN JAPAN. Frankly? You deserve this. You deserve this and our school doesn't know you. Never heard of you. You whoms't?
Coulda changed the world. But instead all you did was piss of The Fuzzy White Demon Lord of UA. Rest in pieces. *click*
*sound of doors smashing open*
*violent Raid Upon Your Labs noises*
But! You may ask? What's IN the Lab?
What MAKES this a DP crossover?
I like your question asking spirit! Good one! And the answer? You know what's better then ONE(1) Nedzu? A second one that you can ACTUALLY control this time! After all! You could consider Mr. Principle a prototype. A proof of concept, if you will. If you were able to make ANOTHER.....
Well, you would set off EVERY. SINGLE. ALARM. Nedzu has set up!
All of them!
Because he don't PLAY THAT.
He has long last trauma from the labs and is the SOLE FUCKING SURVIVOR. There WERE others. They Did Not make it. And their slow agonizing deaths are carved into his brain for the rest of his life. Truely "The living shall envy the dead"; it was a place that made hell seem merciful.
When he declare Never Again?
He fucking MEANT Never Again. He will BURN your empires to ash, with you in them. No More Labs.
So :) You can IMAGINE :) HOW HAPPY HE IS :)
That someone out there is trying to RECREATE his SUPER traumatic childhood, on ANOTHER CHILD. Ha ha! Gonna be a second Nedzu huh? Planning to torture HIM like you did me, HUH? Shove him in a cage and treat him like an animal? Force him to watch as the others die? Collars and whips and cattle prods? Mazes?!
Nedzu may lose his shit.
Juuuuust a little bit.
But if anyone there knows what good for them? They saw NOTHING. What's a little PTSD flashback between friends? Now what is the baby?
Smashcut to said baby!
Because it was a TEAM effort, Danny was successful in "Nuh Uh!"ing out of Rulership. But NOT out of governance. Since he DID help. He's a Councilman now. It's? Not as bad as it could be, honestly. Since it's opened the Zone up to a more democratic system.
Still held by "kick the ass of the person you wanna replace" but still!
Babysteps.
Thing is? There was apparently this weird? Leak? Like a couple hundred years ago, in this one area, that was never addressed. Everyone just moved their doors and stuff. Treated it like the floors flooded. But now that they HAVE someone to complain too?
They all want their territories back.
"Go fix it!" What are we? Janitors?
Danny looses the rock, paper, scissors competition. He's pretty sure Boxy cheated. But like? Dude has a kid to go home too, so Danny doesn't fight him to hard on this. Uuuuuugh. Just remember the Spider-Man motto. Great power~ blah blah blaaaah~
And? Wow is it fucked out there.
The whole PLANET has to be limnal as FUCK. Yikes.
Problem is? When he and his team (Because YES, he HAS learned from his mistakes, Jazz.) get close to the... frankly the Zone here looks like distorted spiderwebbing. With him leading the charge, obviously.
....something happens.
It's... it's not a portal. Wrong color. It's like someone USED the weird spiderwebbing effect to... to reach INTO the Zone? But they are severally Limnal. Clawed hands, blue tint. But that's not the problem.
No, the problem.
The Horror.
The thing that his team can only watch on in agonized terror as it plays out... is that hand? It shoots out of nowhere. Ghostlike in the Zone. Meaning it must be living. And PLUNGES directly into Danny's chest to wrap around his core.
Time seems to slow.
He can't even scream in pain. At the violation. His team, acquaintances, yes, but friendly ones. Can not even cry out in horror, as they watch their friend and team lead be butchered before them. Before that uncaring hand is ripping back. Perfect ice and starlight in its uncaring grip.
For a terrible moment... he is in two places at once.
Then he is crushed in a burning grip. Like molten bars. Watching his own body dissolve into nothing in an instant, pain and horror still etched upon his face. The beginnings of screams ripping from his team as they jerk away from the nightmarish threat.
Then he can not think at all.
He... he TRIES. Knows he has been captured. Is certainly not the sort to give up easily. But... he's so tired. His body feels? Weird. Not wrong, per say. It's HIS. But... small and weird. Like he's shape shifted into a new form and hasn't adjusted yet.
....
.......
...........
He's getting really sick of all the goop against his whiskers and in his ears. It feels WEIRD against his fu- WAIT a second... did those assholes shove him into an animal? Why?! To contain him? Ha! Jokes on them! He's DONE THIS before!
For FUN!
He once spent a whole ass summer as a tiny dragon just 'CAUSE!
Unfortunately, said assholes notice him waking up. Dump him in a glorified hamster cage. But like.... a SHITTY "I don't care about the pet I bought" hamster cage. Dude. And he's naked.
Is that Japanese? Ooooh! It IS! Thank you, Tucker's Weeb phase.
......actually, never mind. Lotta dehumanizing language there, my guys. What is this? The GIW international? You couldn't even give me PANTS? Swear to God, call me an "it" ONE more time and the next time I have to go? I am going to aim through the bars at your-! *alarms going off*
....wasn't me.
I mean, be all means, ha ha and get fucked, but? Wasn't me. Oh hey! Some one exploded the doo-
AND? In Lab 4?
Nedzu finds a child with fluffy, ungroomed black and white fur, and the curious yet cautious eyes of a survivor. They are the most magnificent green, pale and luminous they glow in the laboratories lighting. Paws too big for his small frame, delicate ears on the swivel, equally large. Yet to grow into either. Adolescent, at best.
He watches the child take him in. Note his features and the chaos behind him. The injured scientist under his feet. Come to him conclusion. Nedzu will not rush him. Now that he... he stand the chance to be the hero he himself never had. It is a strange feeling. At once cathartic and unbearably painful.
He is given the equivalent of a cheerful grin, as the lad points the the lock on the cage. Is asked if he happened to bring a spare pair of pants. He can not help his amused chortle as he makes quick work of the lock. The unbearable RELIEF he feels.
He... he was not too late.
These monsters had no chance to crush the boy's light. To make a monster of him, like they did with him. He survived his laboratory, his hell. But not all of him left that terrible place. He knows that. Some innocence, some goodness, died alone in the dark. But here? He insured there would be no chance.
With amusement, he watches the boy turn the lab upside down until he finds spare scrubs. Triumphant, he then considers his own, tiny claws. Dismisses them. Attempts to hop up on a chair to retrieve something sharp. It? Is unbearably cute. To watch him rip and shred, problem solve. His little mind churning away. Whiskers twitching as his eyes dart around, considering his options.
Nedzu offers one of his spare knives.
Watches him light up.
Adorable~
@legitimatesatanspawn @hdgnj @nerdpoe @babbling-babull @lolottes
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