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4unnyr0se · 4 months ago

Note

Could we get an nsfw with hinata shoyo (28) 😙

❥ que linda | shoyo hinata

warnings: timeskip! hinata, brazil! hinata, fem! reader, unprotected sex, ts! hinata has a massive dick bc i said so, male masturbation, couch sex, pining, he whimpers so much you guys, hinata speaks portuguese because i said so, cunnilingus, virgin! hinata, virginity loss, he lowkey rich asf, not proofread

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 4.3k

a/n: this work was loosely inspired by pin-k-ink's "mania". any plot relations are coincidental. please read her writing, it's good!

happy 28th birthday hinata!! short king

Shoyo Hinata was homesick, incredibly so. Being on a very popular Brazilian volleyball team was worth it: the beach, the sand, the fame, the paycheck. Hinata had fun; there was absolutely no doubt about it. He loved his teammates and hanging out with Oikawa on the beach but longed for Miyagi. He longed for the serene countryside. He longed for his friends who had gone on to other prospects. Sure, some of them stuck around, like Daichi and Sugawara, and he missed them too. But there was one person he missed that Hinata practically craved.

You and Hinata grew close during high school, especially during the third year. You and Yachi were co-managers of the volleyball team, and things went incredibly smoothly. Karasuno went to nationals each year until Hinata and the rest of the third year graduated. Because you were a manager, you worked with Kageyama and Hinata on their quick attacks. In contrast, Yachi worked with Tsukishima and Yamaguchi (Yachi was the only one who could handle Tsukishima’s attitude; she grew up when Kiyoko left.) Hinata loved that you were his manager because he had a little crush on you. You were one of the few people who didn’t underestimate him because of his height, nor made fun of him for not being the sharpest knife in the drawer. He would often stare at you for extended periods as you gave the beginning-of-practice briefing, admiring every aspect of your face. The color of your eyes, the way you styled your hair. To Hinata, you were perfection. He only wished he asked you out during high school before he was scouted by the Black Jackals; that was one of his few regrets from his school days.

Soon enough, once the volleyball season in Brazil ended, he had much spare time. Sure, there was practice and things to do for publicity and media, but he could do that whenever he wanted. Hinata decided to book a flight back to Miyagi the first chance he got, arranging to stay at a hotel just outside the central part of the city. It was a two-week trip with a round ticket back to Brazil, which was just enough time to ensure he would see you at least once. He would visit his other friends, obviously. It would be cruel of him not to. But Hinata did have a favorite, and it was you. Pretty, perfect, beautiful you. He couldn’t wait to get off the plane and tell you he was in town. He just couldn’t.

Hinata flopped onto his hotel bed, breathing in the fresh linen scent. He missed the smell of Miyagi, how it almost always smelled like freshly cut grass. The windows were wide open, and the summertime crickets and cicadas filled an otherwise silent room. He adorned a massive smile, taking off his shirt to let his body breathe. He didn’t have your number; no one on Karasuno’s previous register had it, not since the Nishinoya incident. Yachi had it, but she was no doubt asleep. Well, there was always Instagram direct message. He had a lot of followers (mostly crazy fan girls), and his messages were constantly flooded. He opted to use his secret personal account, which boasted a very proud 23 followers. Hinata searched for your name, found your profile, and hit the message button.

He bit down on his lip, his calloused thumbs hovering over the keypad. How should he type this? He didn’t want to come off as too desperate, even though he wanted to see you again so badly he felt like a heroin addict. The little profile circle taunted him, proudly displaying your happy, smiling face and achingly perfect lips.

The opposite hitter shrugged his shoulders and hastily typed out a message, adding cute little smiley face emojis. Hinata groaned as he sent the message, shutting off his phone. What if you thought it was weird that he wanted to meet up so soon? Or even worse, what if you had a boyfriend? Not that he wanted to try anything, right? That would be stupid. It’s not like he wants you under him, moans escaping your pretty mouth as he thrusts in and out of your perfect pussy, claiming you as his all night long…right? He wasn’t a pervert, no way. He just wanted you to be his and only his, his hickeys decorating your neck…fuck. Hinata gazed down at his pants, rolling his eyes in annoyance as he saw the newly-formed tent in his grew sweats.

“Eh, it’ll go away in a bit,” he mumbled, rolling over to check his phone. His heart stopped in his chest once he saw your name appear on his screen. Holy shit.

Your reply was short and sweet, telling him to come for lunch tomorrow. You told him your address and even added a cute little heart emoji. Were you trying to fucking kill him? Hinata shut off his phone again and breathed out, the tent in his sweats growing painfully harder by the second. He wishes he could show you how you made him feel, what you did to him, and his virgin cock.

Yeah, he was a virgin. He just didn’t have time to fool around that much. Volleyball took up much of his time and obligatory social events like media conferences and charity work. He got close once. But she stopped when he told her that he was a virgin. Maybe you would be more forgiving. You were always so kind.

Hinata pulled down his sweats along with his boxers, his cock eagerly springing out and slapping against this bare chest. He shivered as his hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, slowly pumping up and down. His hazelnut brown eyes were squeezed shut as he imagined his hand was yours, all tiny and dainty, pumping up and down on his shaft. How your thumb would rub the tip of his cock, that tongue of yours giving him the tiniest little kitten licks before returning to fucking your fist. Fuck, would his cock even be able to fit in that cute palm of yours?

A deep moan left his chapped lips as he found himself propped up against the wooden headboard, desperately fisting his cock. Precum oozed out of the tip and coated his shaft, the lubrication making it all the more sweet. His mind was clouded with the thought of your pussy slamming down on his length over and over again, the greedy cunt taking his fat cock so well. He wondered if you would flutter around him, how deep you would let him fuck you.

“Fuck, just like that baby,” Hinata moaned, his cock thrusting into his hand impossibly fast. His orgasm would hit any second now. “Fucking this pussy ‘cus it’s mine, yeah? My fuckin’ pussy, my girl,” he bit down on his bottom lip. “Did ya think that since I’ma virgin, I can’t fuck you good? Y’thought wrong, pretty baby-oh fuck.” Hinata’s breath caught in his throat as his cum covered his hand and shaft, glistening in the light of the hotel. “Shit.”

He grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and cleaned himself off, tossing the spent tissue in the waste basket nearby. “I gotta work on lasting longer…” he mumbled, growing sleepy as nirvana slowly overtook him. He laid his head on the fluffy pillow, setting his alarm for the next morning. He slept with his mostly unpacked bags, eager for what tomorrow would hold.

That alarm was the prettiest thing Hinata would ever hear because it meant that today was the day he could finally go to your house and see you. He practically jumped out of bed, plastering a huge smile on his freckled face. He wore a simple outfit, mainly because that was all he could hastily back on such an in-the-heat-of-the-moment decision. A black compression shirt with jeans was simple. He grew fond of the compression style when Boktuo showed it during his time on the Black Jackals. Hinata had to admit: he looked damn good in black. Especially since the shirt showed off the abs he worked so hard on building. He donned designer sunglasses and took the elevator downstairs, whistling a happy tune like in some old 1950s bubbly cartoon.

He enjoyed the stroll from the hotel to the town where you lived, waving to those who recognized him from his time spent on the Black Jackals. A few tweens asked for a picture, which he happily agreed to. Hinata loved meeting and interacting with his fans when they weren’t desperate fangirls just trying to get into his pants. They flattered him, but he couldn’t sleep with his fans. That was Oikawa’s business.

The sun beamed down on his broad shoulders as he finally entered your neighborhood, practically skipping along the burning hot pavement. In retrospect, he should have worn something other than cheap flip-flops. He didn’t care. He was too damn happy to see you again. He would walk across a desert barefoot if it meant he could hang out with you, even if only for five minutes. After a bit, Hinata turned the corner to where your townhouse was. It was quaint and tiny, with a well-kept lawn and a little garden with various colorful flowers under the window. The marigolds caught his eye in particular, mainly because they weren’t native to Japan. He wondered if they were expensive or if someone bought them for you. Hinata tched at the sight of the yellow flowers, growing strangely annoyed at them. He could spoil you more than any man ever could.

Walking up the steps, he felt the nervous sensation of butterflies filling his stomach. He knew you would be so welcoming and open to him—you always have been. It was one of the several things he liked, no, loved about you. His calloused and tanned hand knocked on the beautifully painted wooden door, his foot tapping nervously on the concrete steps that led up to it.

All his worries vanished instantly once he saw your gorgeous face poke out from behind the door, offering him a bright and welcoming smile. “Oh my god, Shoyo! It’s been so long, come on in!” you laughed, wrapping him in a tight embrace. Hinata’s hands found the small of your back, gently caressing the thin fabric of your baby tee. “I missed you,” you softly spoke, squeezing his muscular torso with all your might.

After a bit, Hinata pulled away from the hug, finding the sun blaring on his back a welcome but annoying presence. You led him inside and ushered him to sit on your couch, ensuring everything was right. “Oh, did you want something to drink? I know you walked here. I’m sorry. I should have just called a cab…” you rubbed your temple, mumbling swear words under your breath as you waltzed into your kitchen. “Shoyo, honey, do you want lemonade or ginger ale? I also have diet sodas!”

Hinata choked on nothing as you called him honey, covering it up with a cough. “U-uh, lemonade is fine! Thanks!” he massaged his throat, the tips of his ears turning faintly pink. Shit, if you were gonna keep calling him sweet words all day, it would only be a matter of time until he was pinning your hands above your head and making you see stars. At least, that’s what he hoped to achieve. He didn’t want just anyone to be his first. He wanted it to be you.

He thanked you for the lemonade, admiring the taste, and brought the cup to his lips. “Oh wow, this is really good. What brand is it?”

“Oh, I made it myself,” you smiled crookedly.

“Even better,” Hinata winked, unaware of what he was doing. “It’s been so long since I’ve had good lemonade, you know? Don’t get me wrong, their drinks in Brazil are amazing, but nothing can ever really beat lemonade.”

“What’s Brazil like?” you innocently asked, scooting further down the couch closer to Hinata. “I haven’t left the country.”

Hinata set the glass of lemonade on the coffee table. “Oh, it’s beautiful. It’s so tropical and lovely, and the locals love me. But that’s just because I play for their team,” he chuckled. “The language was tough to learn at first, but I eventually got the hang of it.”

“I’ll bet. Portuguese sounds like a hard language to learn,” you cross your arms over your chest, inadvertently pushing your breasts together. The baby tee you wore was cut just right to show off a bit of your cleavage, which drove Hinata wild. He would have pounced on you if he had been more immature and ripped that shirt clean. He could always buy you a new one.

“It’s actually kind of pretty,” he smiled, tapping his fingers against the couch.

“Can you say something in Portuguese?” your eyes sparkle with curiosity, leaning towards Hinata. “Pretty please? I wanna know what it sounds like.”

Fuck. You looked so damn pretty like that, so eager for him. Hinata paused for a moment, opening his mouth. “Eu acho você incrivelmente linda. Você me deixa louco.” Hinata smirked to himself. It was the perfect plan. He could say whatever he wanted, and you would have no idea what it meant.

“What does that mean?” you tilted your head to the side, your hair falling out of its braid.

Hinata reached for your braid and pushed the loose strands behind your ear. “Uh, it means I like your shirt.” he nodded in mock assurance.

“Oh wow, that’s a pretty long sentence for just a compliment,” you took a sip of your lemonade, leaving lipgloss on the glass brim. “I guess it’s just a different language. Can you say something else?”

Hinata nodded and subtly wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Uh, this is a traditional Brazilian custom for when you’re seeing someone for the first time in a while.” he glanced down at your eyes, wanting to swim in them.

“Eu preciso te foder,” he mumbled in a low tone. “Tenho desejado que você seja meu primeiro desde nosso terceiro ano.” his thumb brushed across your lower lip.

“Shoyo…?” you questioned, looking up at him with confused eyes. “You’re acting different…did something happen in Brazil?”

Hinata shook his head. “Nothing bad happened to me,” he pulled his thumb away. “I just matured, I guess.”

“And you got taller,” you squeaked, paying extra attention to how his compression shirt showed off his toned and muscular body. “A-and, uh, more buff. Your girlfriend must be lucky.” your voice trailed off, your eyes deciding to focus on the lemonade glasses.

Hinata shook his head. “I don’t have a girlfriend. I didn’t want one when I played during the season. My coach says it would be a bad idea.” his eyes never left your blushing face. “So, I guess we’re both single.”

“I guess so,”

He thought for a moment. “Do you want to know what I just said in Portuguese?” he heard you mumble in agreement. “I said,” he bent down to reach your ear level. “I need to fuck you. I’ve wanted you to be my first since our third year.”

Your pupils blew out as his words reverberated in your ears, your thighs squeezing together. Was this the same Shoyo Hinata that you went to high school with? “Shoyo,” you breathed, gasping slightly as he quickly pulled you into his lap.

“Please,” he whispered, lazily trailing kissed down your cheek and onto your neck. “You don’t know how badly I missed you, pretty girl.” he stopped his wet kisses, squeezing your hips. “Didn’t stop thinking about you for a second. You’re always on my mind.”

“Fuck, Shoyo,” you wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing your chest against his own. “Have you really been thinking about me like that?”

“You have no fucking idea,” he moaned into your neck, nipping at your flesh. “I fucked my fist to the thought of you so many times. I can’t even get off unless I imagine it’s you.” he groaned as you ground down onto his lap. His lips brushed against yours, aching to taste that gloss. “Please, be my first. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

You shuddered. “Okay,”

Hinata’s eyes roared with a passionate fire as he claimed your lips instantly, the kiss being wild and untamed. You gasped, parting your lips, allowing Hinata’s tongue to delve inside your mouth, happily exploring every inch shamelessly. His hands wandered down to your ass. Any restraint he had melted away as he took a nice handful of your ass, squeezing it roughly. Your hands found purchase in his unkempt red hair, tugging on any curl you could manage.

He groaned into your mouth, slapping your ass shamelessly. “Fuck, keep doing that,” he commanded, biting down mercilessly on those perfectly plump lips. You whined in agreement, tugging harshly on one strand near the crown of his head. He trailed sloppy, wet kisses down your neck until he found the spot that made you squeal so nicely. His teeth sank onto the skin, sucking it like a starving vampire until an ugly purple bruise began to bloom.

His hands picked you off of his lap and threw you to the other side of the wide couch, his muscular body quickly crowding around you as his lips crashed against yours once more in a scorching, desperate onslaught. “Please,” he whimpered against your lips. “Please let me fuck you, baby. I gotta know how it feels.” his hands slipped past the hem of your leggings, massaging your clothed core. “D’ya want me to do something down here, hm? Tell me what y’want, please. Lemme make you feel good.”

“Shoyo,” you kissed his cheek, bucking your hips onto his palm. “Can y’finger me, please? Wan’ feel your tongue.”

Holy fuck, Hinata could cum just from your words. He eagerly nodded and pulled his hand from your core, the slightest hint of slick on his fingertips. “Take that shit off right now,” he demanded, his cock painfully hard underneath his jeans.

You scrambled off of the couch, tossing your leggings and panties aside. Fuck, you were wearing pretty orange ones today, too. Did you plan that? He wondered if your bra was orange as well. “And take that top off. Lemme see those tits.”

His hands reached up and ripped your shirt off, exposing your pretty orange bra for him. Hell yes, he was right. “Shit,” Hinata groaned, biting down on his lower lip. “Now, the bra, please. I wanna see my pretty girl's tits.”

You giggled in response, unclasping your bra from behind. It dropped to the floor, revealing you in all of your naked glory. You sat back on the couch and spread your legs, propping yourself up with your elbows. The sight of your glistening heat drove Hinata mad, he just had to get a taste.

“I wanna see you too,” you begged, your eyes sparkling. “I wanna see what all that time in Brazil turned you into.”

He happily obliged, taking a moment to remove his compression shirt and jeans. They were tossed aside on the coffee table, making a mess. Hinata proudly displayed himself for you, tan lines, and everything. He was sculpted like a Greek god, and the freckles across his body added to his beauty. “D’ya like what you see?” he flexed his bicep.

“So fucking much,” you felt yourself get wetter at the sight. “Please, Shoyo, c’mere and make me feel good with your tongue. I-I can teach you if you want.”

“Fucking please,” Hinata groaned, kneeling between your legs while using his strong arms to hold them apart. “You’re fucking dripping for me, y’know that? Did you want this as badly as I did, pretty girl?” he kissed your inner thigh.

You nodded. “Yeah, so fucking much. D’ya know how to eat pussy?”

“I did once,” Hinata spoke against your other thigh, kissing it. “I was really good at it for a virgin.”

“Shoyo,” you whimpered. “Stop talking now and eat my pussy.”

“Yes, ma’am, whatever you want,” his cock twitched in his boxers. Did he like being told what to do? He buried his face in between your legs, eagerly lapping at your folds. He flattened his tongue so expertly that it was apparent he had done this more than once. His tongue made rapid zig-zagging motions across your fold, stopping to happily suck at your clit. Your hands again flung to his hair, the orange curls nestling between your fingers.

“Shoyo, fuck!” you cried, arching your back into the couch.

“Fuck baby, if you say my name like that, I’m gonna cum in my boxers,” he mumbled into your pussy, snickering as you let out another pornographic moan. Hinata became frenzied, lapping and sucking and licking at anything he could. He began spelling his name with the tip of his tongue, which he knew you liked because you came on his tongue moments after he finished spelling ‘S-H-O-Y-O.’

“Fuck,” his mouth glistened with your release. He tugged his boxers down to his ankles, letting his throbbing cock smack against his hard abs. “Do you have a condom?”

“N-no,” you shook, still coming down from your high.

“Can I fuck you without one? I’ll buy you the morning-after pill,” he was so desperate he was shaking. Holy fuck, it was finally happening. He was about to lose his virginity to you.

“Fuck, Shoyo!” you whined in annoyance. “Just fuck me already, we can talk about this after!”

Hell, he didn’t need to be told that twice. His hands caged you into his body, your legs being pushed up against your chest. The throbbing tip of his cock prodded at your entrance, precum leaking from the tip. Hinata hissed as he pushed himself in, relishing in how your pussy tried so hard to take his massive girth. “Holy shit, you’re so fucking tight. M-maybe I, fuck, maybe I should have fingered you or something.”

“You’re so fucking huge,” you whimpered, your hands scratching at his toned back as you struggled to take his size. “Holy fuck, you’ve been concealing that monster for how long?”

“For a while, baby,” he sighed as he finally bottomed out, his cockhead brushing against your cervix. “Fuck, I can’t hold back. I’m sorry, pretty girl,” Hinata hooked your legs under his arms and pulled his cock almost out before slamming it back inside you again, earning a delicious shriek of pleasure from your lips.

“So. Fucking. Tight.” he punctuated his words with a thrust, his balls slapping against the cleft of your ass as he drilled his length into you. The front of his thighs met the back of yours over and over again, creating a beautiful melody. “‘Been wanting this f’so fucking long, oh my God.” his head was tossed back, nostrils flaring each time your gummy walls sucked him deeper inside.

Your entire body was trembling as Hinata used you like a human fleshlight, ruining your cunt for anyone else for a while. Was he really a virgin, or did he fuck like this because he had too much energy? Your hair created the perfect messy halo above your head, your mouth slightly agape with the constant wanton moans being ripped from your chest.

His blazing brown eyes landed at the sight of your bouncing tits, his hand roughly grabbing one. His thumb ran over the pert nipple, squeezing it. “There are my fuckin’ tits, m’gonna mark them later.”

Hinata choked back a whimper as he was on the ledge of his climax, his hips moving like they had a mind of their own. His breathing was erratic, chest falling up and down as his cock twitched deep inside your cunt. “Shit, m’gonna fucking cum inside of you. Take it all, fucking take it.” he let out a strangled gasp as he painted your walls white with his seed, gasping sharply.

“Oh fuck,” his head was thrown back, his hips slowly fucking the rest of his orgasm into you. “Oh my god,” Hinata’s face was so incredibly flushed, the baby hairs sticking to his forehead.

The opposite hitter let go of your legs and collapsed on top of you, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Y’okay?” he grumbled, squeezing your breast.

“I’m fine, Shoyo,” you breathed out, still recovering. “That was fucking incredible. Were you lying to me about being a virgin?” you raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

“Nuh-uh,” he kissed your neck. “I was a virgin until five seconds ago. Sorry for not lasting as long as you wanted me to.”

“I actually liked it,” you rubbed his bicep. “Some guys keep going for so long that eventually it becomes painful. It only really hurt when you shoved yourself into me.”

“Sorry about that,” Hinata reached up to kiss your lips. “I was just really excited, that’s all. You know I flew here just for you, right?”

Your heart softened. “Aw, really? You missed me that much?”

He nodded. “Of course I did. I missed you ever since our last day of high school.”

“You’re such a sweetheart,” you kissed his cheek. “Hey…d’ya wanna stay with me while you’re in town instead of that crappy hotel?”

“Could I really?” his pupils were blown out.

“Yeah, don’t be silly.”

“I’ll go back there and get my things!” Hinata practically jumped off the couch, scrambling to get his clothes on. “Oh, uh, I’ll also get you the morning-after pill.” he chuckled, stumbling as he put his flip-flop on.

“You’re such a dork,” you grabbed a random throw blanket and bundled yourself up, resting on a throw pillow. “But you’re cute, so it’s okay.”

“I’m your dork now,” he flashed you a smile. “I’ll be back soon, okay? Don’t miss me too much!” he walked out the door, smiling.

Suddenly, Hinata didn’t seem so homesick anymore.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#shoyo hinata #timeskip hinata #hinata smut #hinata x reader

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upsidedownwithsteve · 6 months ago

Text

A soulmate AU: Steve Harrington x fem!reader [3.7K]

THE TIMELINE

"There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember, It's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender. And I miss you on a train, I miss you in the morning, I never know what to think about. I think about you."

- About You By The 1975

V. HAWKINS, INDIANA: 1988

Two years had passed since the last gate had closed and despite the aftermath of the “earthquakes,” Vecna had yet to make any sort of reappearance.

Max’s bones healed, eventually, and she regained most of her sight, relying on thick lensed glasses when she grew tired or the words in her books turned blurry. Nancy went to college, Jonathan tried it for a year, Hopper took El on a month-long camping trip to see something other than the town repairing itself and Lucas went to therapy.

Soon, each kid followed suit, attending sessions that eventually helped them sleep a little better because even though they couldn’t tell the person on the other side of the coffee table about monsters and the world under their feet, there had been enough death and suffering to fill the hour with regardless.

Dustin told Steve he should go too and Robin agreed. After Eddie’s funeral, the one where they all stood with Wayne, a guy from the garage Eddie worked at on weekends and the remaining Hellfire members beside a small gravestone, they had another one.

A second ceremony near the woods behind Eddie’s trailer, close to where he died, to where Dustin had found him bleeding and proud. The kids cried and Joyce held on tight to Will while Jonathan hugged Nancy and Dustin punched a tree trunk. It felt better than the first one, easier somehow, when they didn’t have to lie and hide the guilt they had at knowing each and every one of them felt a little shame in having a hand in someone’s else’s death.

But it was closure.

The town healed, roads were repaired, houses rebuilt, new flowers planted in the park in memory of those who had been lost in the accident - the natural disaster that made headlines, the one that no one could have predicted.

Steve helped Dustin clean Eddie’s grave when the spray paint covered the dead boy’s name. Robin stopped crying when she looked in the mirror each morning. Jonathan left his room.

The kids got better. They smiled more, went to the new arcade on opening day, shared slushies and rode their bikes around town again. Joyce visited Wayne when she could, took him pies and meatloaf and eventually got him out of his armchair and into a coffee shop for a full hour. Hopper got his job back, had a ceremony that preceded the funeral he had years before and Robin managed to get her and Steve a sweet gig at the record store that replaced Family Video.

It felt fresh. New. Clean.

So why was Steve still dreaming about gates?

For the third night in a row, he woke up gasping. A yell stuck in his throat that tasted like metal, like blood, and he was drenched. Shirtless, his sheets stuck to his chest, the weight of them tangled around his legs in a sickly familiar way, vines tugging at his ankles. His room was dark, the house empty, too quiet. Quiet enough that his breath ripped from his lungs in harsh pants, his head pounding from the exertion of running in his dream, back in a place that he hadn’t seen in almost twenty one months.

At first, he dreamt of death.

Of Eddie and how they found him lifeless and in Dustin’s arms. How Max was barely conscious in the attic of the Creel House, her body broken in ways that no doctor could understand. He dreamt of how he had pulled Lucas away from her, the boy sobbing and yelling, fighting with more strength than he knew he had as Steve tried to restrain him just enough for the paramedics to get Max into the ambulance.

Then the dreams turned empty. He dreamt of losing everyone, Robin, Dustin, Hop. El was gone, Will too, Mike nowhere to be found. Nancy’s house was empty, Joyce and Jonathan didn’t exist and Steve sat alone in a town that turned grey, crumbling to dust until the vines came back and the clouds turned red.

He ran miles every night, searching for his friends, his family. Woke up to shaking breaths and sore legs like he’d really sprinted across a town that was no longer home and each morning when the sun rose, he sat with a coffee and his bare legs dipped in the pool in his backyard. He stared at the water until the ripples blurred and wondered how long it would take for Barb to come haunt him too, if she’d reappear in his dreams despite the years that had gone by, if she’d come crawling back out of his pool like she used to, dripping wet and with no eyes.

But Barb never came and he stopped dreaming of the kids, stopped hearing Lucas’ screams, stopped seeing Max in a hospital bed with blood coming from her eyes and eventually, one night, he dreamt of a gate that he’d never seen before.

It didn’t even really look like a gate.

Not the ones Steve knew. It wasn’t framed by dead vines, it didn’t pulsate, it didn’t have a red glow coming from its innards. This one didn’t look like rotting flesh, like a wound in the earth that couldn’t be healed. This one wasn’t at the bottom of a lake, lined with wet moss and cracked rocks, it wasn’t in the Munson trailer nor in the middle of the woods.

This one opened on a blank wall in Steve’s bedroom, replacing the shelves where his old basketball trophies sat, where he usually left his pile of clothes before falling into bed. In the dream, it started as a crack, a crumbling of plaster and blue plaid wallpaper and Steve watched it open, a yawning thing that split the room and bathed it in light. It was too bright at first, like blinking into a summer sun. And once the white-hot of it cleared from Steve’s eyes, he saw blue skies and he could smell the ocean.

There were trees he’d never seen before in real life, something out of a movie, tall and green and narrow as they swayed in a breeze he couldn’t really feel from his spot on his bedroom carpet. The buildings were a pinky-peach colour, like clay, with orange slate tiles and there were foundations and statues carved into the walls, water trickling from the mouths of gods and vases that stone faced women held in their marble arms.

It was like looking at a painting, a canvas between his bed and his old desk, framed with olive branches and large, red fruits that protruded from the gates mouth.

Pomegranates.

Steve could smell them, a sweetness that mixed with the ocean air, a kind of freshness that you couldn’t find between the fields and farms that surrounded Hawkins. In the dream, he wanted to move closer but found that he couldn’t, his eyes wide and his bare feet rooted to the spot as he stared at the scene. It felt like a memory the more he looked, the buildings becoming familiar, a baby blue door that looked like somewhere he’d once owned the keys to and the cobbled streets became a well walked way home.

Then, as if he weren’t supposed to really see it, he spotted something move in an upstairs window. Two houses from the front of the gate, with rusted shutters and white linen curtains, he saw a girl stand between them.

A pretty girl, with eyes he knew he’d seen before, in a white dress that he was sure he remembered the feeling of.

The sight of her made Steve’s heart hammer, the dream making him dizzy, the realisation that he knew that girl making the line between unconsciousness and reality a little blurry. He didn’t know her name, or where he knew her from. He didn’t even know where he was looking or why the gate was there.

But he stared and stared until the girls eyes met his and before he could lift his hand, or even try to speak, there was a crack that seemingly came from the sky - the one above Hawkins or the one inside the gate, he didn’t know - but something flashed, the gate went dark and the rip in his bedroom wall stitched itself back up.

He woke up feeling like he’d remembered and forgotten something all at once. Like a book he’d read back in middle school, a photo he’d once misplaced, a song he hadn’t heard in years but still remebered some of the words too.

He knew her. He knew her.

Steve thought about the girl so much, so often, that it didn’t take him long to think of her, to refer to her, as you. You were someone he’d once known, from a memory or another dream, he wasn't sure. It was the same feeling as watching a movie and seeing a pretty actress on screen, in a different outfit with different hair but knowing her face and wondering what show he’d seen her in before.

Except with this, there was an aching want that buried itself in his chest at the sight of you, an awful feeling that grew larger each night. And every time his wall cracked open again, it seemed like his ribs did too. A crushing feeling, a yawning expanse inside his body that made room for the way his heart seemed to grow and grow at the sight of you.

Yearning, that’s what he thought it was. A slow, burning build of it.

The second night, he dreamt of you in a garden. A sprawling, green lawn with a pond so green-blue it made his eyes hurt. There was an awning beside it, a pergola of sorts made of white stone and it had ivy growing between the pillars, covering the roof and reaching down to trail its flowers in the water below. You were closer than before, than you were in the window, and Steve could see the way your lashes hit your cheeks as you looked down, stitching something that you held in your lap.

There was a wicker basket beside you, a loaf of fresh bread wrapped in a cloth and he could still smell pomegranates, sweet and tart. There was a space beside you on the blanket, enough room for two but no one else came.

You were always alone.

Steve tried to talk to you, to reach out and see if this gate worked like the others, if he could walk through into this other world, this other dimension, but it didn’t work.

Not yet, anyway.

You seemed to notice him more on the fifth night, as he watched you walk along the edge of a lake. Your hair was shorter now and your clothes had changed. They look more modern, more like his, the cabins behind you reminiscent of a summer camp, a holiday lodge or something. He could hear music, a song he swore he heard on the radio not too long ago and that night, you watched him back.

It seemed like you were waiting for someone. And when Steve saw your face light up with a smile, his heart stumbled. You raised your arm, reaching out a hand to the edge of the gate, off to the side as if someone else was in Steve’s walls. He saw another hand reach for yours, larger, definitely male, with a freckle where the thumb joined the palm.

The jealousy he felt was unmatched, a burning thing that scorched his chest and his throat, hot needles at the back of his mouth. Before the man came into view, the crack in his wall trembled and the gate stitched itself closed once more, leaving plaster dust and flakes of paint on his carpet.

Apart from the small mess, no one would have ever guessed another world opened up inside of Steve Harrington’s bedroom each night.

It took him a week and half to notice his hand had a freckle in the same spot. A small beauty mark he’d never really paid attention to before, painted in the space that joined his thumb to his hand. He tried not to read too much into it, tried not to hold onto the hope that maybe it meant something - because none of this made sense, not really.

They were just dreams. Strange things, brain scrambling things. But it was a welcome reprieve from death and darkness and vines that held onto him too tight. He no longer woke up in a cold sweat, he no longer wished for morning to come, no matter how tired he felt when he opened his eyes.

Steve wondered if anyone else was experiencing these kinds of dreams. If the rest of the party were getting glimpses of other worlds, other timelines. He wasn’t sure what they were, too scared to ask, too afraid to make everyone else worry. The thought that these dreams could be a trick crossed his mind more than once, a new tactic from Vecna, an infiltration of his sleep that was meant to lull him into some kind of false sense of security.

Safety - an unknown feeling.

But everyone else spent their days talking about school and their new bosses, the fair that was coming to town to celebrate the town hall finally being rebuilt. No one mentioned Vecna or dreams or gates or girls they knew from somewhere they couldn’t place.

So Steve accepted the fact that whatever these dreams were - whatever they meant - they were just for him. Which meant that you were his too.

Weeks went by with Steve viewing you from the split in his wall, sometimes hearing music, sometimes hearing your muffled voice. Never real words, never loud enough to hear and it didn’t seem like you could hear him either. But Steve watched, enraptured, following you around different parts of the world, new countries and scenes that he could never really place but, oh my god, each one felt like home with you in it.

Then one night, he saw himself.

He felt the surge of panic flood him even in his sleep, his body jolting against his bed as he saw the familiar face, staring back at him, nonplussed. He looked a little different, maybe older. His hair was shorter at the back, cropped closer to the nape of his neck but the biggest difference was how happy he looked.

This Steve, the one in his dream, inside this gate - this Steve from another time, another life - he looked lighter. He didn’t have purple smudges under his eyes, no deep lines settling across his forehead from frowning so much. His clothes were different too, looser, less fitting, the colours more muted. He wore a pair of jeans that looked much more comfortable than his tight Levi’s, a soft burgundy sweater that had the sleeves rolled up.

Steve didn’t recognise where this dream took place, but he knew it wasn’t Hawkins. America, yeah, the street signs and licence plates on the cars in the street giving that detail away, but he wasn’t too sure where. The buildings were bigger, shinier, more glass than brick but the skies were still blue and it looked peaceful, warm.

Safe.

Dream Steve strolled down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, looking back over his shoulder every now and then as if to make sure the real Steve was following him. He walked past storefronts and stopped to pet a dog, a golden retriever who was waiting for his owner outside of a bakery. When he came to a bookstore, Steve could see a large building in the distance, a huge billboard atop it that looked like it was advertising a new movie, or a show maybe. It didn’t have much details on it, no actors nor dates to tell what year this was supposed to be.

Certainly not 1988.

It only had lettering across it, big and bold and red against a pristine white background: “ANOTHER LIFE.”

The bell to the bookstore jingled and then Steve saw you. As pretty as you had been in every other gate, every other world, every other lifetime. Like a figurine inside a snow globe, like something from a fairytale. Steve had never seen you this close before.

He watched your smile, the way it widened at the sight of his counterpart, this other version of him. You were so pretty that his breath got caught in his lungs, his sleeping body kicking out in shock when you lunged at the dream version of him, throwing your arms around his shoulders in greeting.

Steve watched the two figures embrace on the street, he watched how this luckier man got to bring his hand to your cheek and hold to there to kiss, how his lips - Steve’s own lips - met your own and parted them, mouths melting together in something that was so much more than a quick hello.

Steve didn’t have it in him to feel jealous then. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to. He watched the hand that held your jaw, the thumb that caressed your cheekbone as you grinned into him, your own hands clutching his waist now. There was a freckle, the same as the one he had on his own hand, in the matching spot on yours. This Steve took that hand and kissed that very mark, smacking kisses across your palm and up your wrist until you were laughing, head thrown back, eyes bright.

Steve hadn’t seen anything so happy.

He woke up before the dream finished, before the gate closed. Steve woke up with tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, his vision blurry in the navy gloom of his bedroom. It wasn’t yet morning. There was no gate on his bedroom fall, no new city between the plaid striped wallpaper.

He thought it could’ve been Chicago, maybe New York. Perhaps Philadelphia.

He wondered if he left and went looking for that bookstore, that street, that billboard, he’d find you too. If he was supposed to, if you were real, if this life was all he was supposed to get.

Something told him otherwise, that open crack inside his chest that made him ache for hours after he awoke. He never forgot about you during the day, each life he’d watched you live, how you had grown your hair out and then cut it, how you seemed to change your clothing depending on where you were, from old petticoats to jeans and shirts with logos on them he’d never seen before.

Steve felt like he’d lived a thousand lives with you.

He wasn’t sure what he had to do to get you in this one.

After two weeks of dreaming of this life with you, one that he was so sure would happen, he spoke to Joyce. He waited until the kids dragged Hopper out into the yard to help them with some sort of rocket they wanted to make and he found her in the kitchen. It was the closest kind of feeling he had to home - bar from the sight of you, but he wasn’t really sure if that counted when he was asleep.

So he tried to sound casual when he leaned over the Byers kitchen counter, elbows avoiding the jelly stains that Mike had left after making a sandwich, and asked, “hey, uh, do you believe in soulmates?”

Joyce blinked at him, flour and butter between her fingers as she tried to turn the page in her recipe book back to the instructions for apple pie. The book flopped shut when she let go, her hands reaching for a rag instead. Her eyes never left Steve’s.

“Uh, well. I guess so,” she paused, head tilted to the side as she watched the younger man, how his cheeks turned pink and his gaze fell to the floor. “I haven’t thought about it all that much. Why’d you ask?”

Steve didn’t know what to say then. So he floundered, flushed in the face and nose scrunched as he ran his fingers through his hair too harshly, hoping that no one else walked in. What was he supposed to say? That he was dreaming of gates in his bedroom walls? But it was okay? ‘Cause these ones didn’t have monsters or creatures set out to kill him, no, these gates held something that he thought he’d once had, that they held something he was so sure he was supposed ot have again?

Maybe, just not in this life.

Maybe, this time, something was broken. Wires were crossed, cut, unravelled. Maybe the upside down messed up a timeline, maybe it ripped apart whatever plan it had originally laid out for Steve Harrington.

He didn’t know. But he knew it sounded crazy, even in his head.

So he shrugged and said, “no reason.”

And then that night, after Joyce gave him funny looks over the dinner she served him and the rest of his friends, the kitchen table full, he went home and lay on his bed, hardly bothering to pull the sheets over his bare chest.

He counted his breaths, hoped for sleep and wished for you.

Like always, his room grew darker, his lids heavier and the crack in his bedroom wall crumbled and split until the dust settled and he saw your face. You were alone this time, pretty as ever and in the same looking city he’d last seen himself in. The skies were blue behind you, the buildings still tall and shiny looking, all glass window panes and metal framework. If he concentrated enough, he could smell summer.

Hot tarmac and sunscreen, fresh fruit from one of the stores behind you, tart lemons and freshly ground coffee.

You were looking right at him and even in his sleep, Steve smiled. Your eyes were pretty, too pretty, the colour bright and your gaze excited as you gazed at him. Like you’d been waiting. You held out a hand, coaxing, kind, soft, patient. And for the first time, when Steve reached out too, his hand slipped through the gate.

He was right, about the season, about it being summer. The air inside this world was warm on his skin, like the sun was on him despite being sprawled out in the blue gloom of his dark bedroom. It felt like a July morning, right before the heat hit.

He was almost touching your fingers when he woke up alone again.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington au

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artemismoorea03 · 10 months ago

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DP x DC Prompt: Backup Plans

Danny had a list of 'backup plans' and plans for his backup plans. If his secret got out and his parents didn't take it well he needed a backup. If the world found out he had a back up for that. If both happened there was a third plan. If the worst came true and his loved ones all died in a fiery blast and he was potentially forced to live with Vlad - there was a backup for that too.

Most of the back ups meant living in Sam or Tuckers house without knowing, leaving with Jazz to another city, moving into the Ghost Zone, or leaving America all together (he was thinking Antarctica because of the cold, distance and frequent Ghost Portals that opened there).

But there were backup plans for that too, because if Vlad was determined enough he would go to the ends of the earth (literally) to find him. So, with Clockworks blessing and very vague gesturing towards one section of the Zone he started looking for backup plans in the Infinite Realms.

Which is how he ended up in Gotham City when a natural portal opened up. It was the middle of the day - not ideal - and he appeared right in the middle of a crowded room - even less ideal. It seemed like some kind of... reward ceremony? There were people in spandex on a stage, looking surprised as Danny got ready to book it.

At least that was until one of the spandex wearers approached him. He was wearing all black with pointy... ears? and some kind of bat symbol on his chest.

"Alien, Meta or being from another dimension?" He simply asked.

"Uh... the third one?" Danny replied, looking around anxiously as the bat-guy reached into his belt, pulling out what looked like a PDA but without buttons. Seeing Danny's confusion he turned it on, the screen lighting up with a form.

"Alright. Come stand over here with me and fill this out."

Danny didn't know what was happening but was even more concerned when he actually read what the not-PDA said.

Alternate Dimension Traveler Documentation Form 301

"Do... you get visitors from other dimensions a lot?" Danny asked, following bat-guy to the corner.

"Occasionally."

"Oh... and that's okay?"

"If they're not here to cause trouble, yes."

Danny smiled at this, "Well I'm definitely not here to do that. I'm looking for a backup plan."

"Backup plan?"

"Mhm." Danny said looking at the not-pda curiously as he tried to figure out how to work it. "You know, in case my parents find out what I am and try to cut me open, my Godfather tries to kidnap or torture me, or my Government captures me and performs legal experimentation's on me as a way to destroy an entire dimension and potentially all connecting dimensions - including yours... say to you have a stylus or something? I'm not sure how this works."

Bat-guy simply blinked slowly, then put his hand on his shoulder as he lead him further from the crowd and sat him down. "You use your finger. See, tap where you want to type and go from there."

"Oh, neat! Thanks bat-dude."

"It's Batman, and you are?"

"Phantom. Danny Phantom. Nice to meet you."

#dp x dc prompt #dc x dp prompt #my prompts

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thecapricunt1616 · 5 months ago

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Coriander (c.b. one-shot)

Snippet (more BTC): “I thought you'd never ask. I’m gonna go to the back office and wait. If you think you know what I need, then come on back. If you don’t want to, we can just pretend this never happened mm?” you got up, making sure to sway your hips a tad more as you went to the back office. You pushed the door shut behind you and dropped your tote under the desk, sitting down on it and leaning back against the wall. He came in 2 minutes later, cheeks red, biting his lip as he opened the door and saw you sitting on the desk.”

�� Chapter Inspo: Love, health, immortality, and protection. Tie fresh coriander with a ribbon and hang in the home to bring peace & protection. Add to love charms and spells to bring romance or use in ritual work to ease the pain of a broken love affair. Promotes peace among those who are unable to get along. Use the seeds in love sachets and spells. ♡ Summary: You are in a FWB situation with Richie, Mikey dies - Carmy comes home to run The Beef, and suddenly...you find yourself in a FWB situation with Carmy as well, what happens when Carmy makes you two official in secret so he can have you all to himself? ♡ W/C: 5.3K+ ♡ Posted Date: 05/29/2024 ♡ A/N: Hellooooo! Happy day 4/7 of the Capri 200 Follower Celebration Extravaganza!!! You can find said extravaganza ♡Here♡ this celebration will be going until next Sunday (06/02/24) so get your requests in! Here's another celebration ask on the books! This ask is from a sweet anon, ask can be found right ♡Here♡ - Thank you so much for your request! As you can tell by the word count I got very inspired! I hope you enjoy :D This could easily have a part 2 so if you want one, just let me know in the comments This is kind of a Richie/Carmy thing i've never written Richie before and I had a whole lot of fun doing so! ♡ Warnings for BTC: Swearing, FWB Relationships, Smoking, Usual TB trigger warnings, Asshole!Carmy (kinda), Angst, No real comfort to be found in the end, Age gap relationships, Rough sex, smutsmutsmut, No uses of Y/N, Reader not described (pics are for vibes only)

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤��𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You had been working at The Bear since it was The Beef. 3 months before Mikey died, you were hired as a food runner. You’d met Mike maybe twice? Both times, the guy was high out of his mind- so you couldn’t say much about his character.

Richie on the other hand, was flirty. He was handsome, he was funny, he had a huge cock. You were in your third year of college, Richie was smitten with your girlish charm, and you’d fucked those 3 months pretty consistently - until Carmy came back to Chicago.

You’d been warned his ‘cousin’ was a big shot NYC chef, ‘Michelin Starred’ Richie said one night while fucking your brains out after a stressful shift as he smoked a cigarette in his shitty, dimly lit apartment. Puffs of smoke left his lips as your ass bounced against his hips and he rambled on about what had pissed him off today,

“Ye’ sweetheart- fuck-“ he took a long inhale before continuing - “mm’y’fuckin tight baby- shit-“ he stuttered as your pussy clenched around his cock firmly as your second orgasm washed over you, thighs shivering. “Thaaas it- huh? Gooood girl. Knew y’could do it babygirl” he kissed the dimple on your spine as you shivered, tendrils of smoke trailing up your back and over your hips.

He then sat up, casually taking another drag, tightening his non-dominant hand around your hip so there would be little fingertip bruises once more over the yellowing hearing ones, and continued, his bruising pace getting rougher and quicker as he continued chasing his own orgasm.

The meat of your ass and the skin of his hips made smacking sounds as they came together. Pathetic little whines drag from your lips with each rough kiss the tip of his cock gave your cervix as he just continued talking like he wasn’t using you like a fuck doll.

“he uh, has a Michelin star- whatever that means? He’s a little prick. Guess that’s ahh-fuck- that’s why Mike left it t’him- he knows how t’make fancy shit- little fuckin’ Eleven Madison Park dickhead” he grunted as he filled you up, spanking you roughly for good measure.

“Good girl. Always take it like a little whore mm?” He puts out his cigarette in the ashtray. He pats your hip gently as he pulls out, collapsing next to you with an old man grunt that you always teased him for. “Ey’ sweet girl, Y’wanna rub my back since I fucked y’so good mm? So I won’t be sore at work tomorrow?” He pulled you close, kissing your neck, his stubble making you shiver as cum leaked down your beard-burned thighs.

That was how you spent one to three nights a week since you’d started working at The Beef.

Then, Carmy came. For the first 6 or so months, it was business as usual for you and Richie. Quiet spanks on the ass as you walked by him during rush as you brought food out to a customer, sometimes letting him fuck your face in the back alley as he went on about what an asshole Carmen was being that day.

You just took it, the fighting, the bickering, the sexual tension. You were the go-between for the both of them, when they weren’t talking Richie would bug you to go tell Carmy what he needed to say. “Immature asshole” you’d call him at the end of the day as he knelt between your thighs in that same shitty apartment, sucking on your clit while his beard scratched up your thighs. He’d just chuckle into you, squeezing your thighs amusedly with his large hands.

Then one day, you were in the dry storage, grabbing something for Marcus that was on the bottom shelf and heavy. You were bent over, trying to tug it out and the door shut behind you. “Hey- sorry just gonna reach over you-“ Carmy. When you felt him press against your ass like that, his tattooed hand resting on your hip. You felt heat rushing straight for your core, your stomach flipping and fluttering.

Then, you started making moves. A brush of the hand here, a smile there, a giggle at one of his dorky jokes no one else bothered to pay attention to, of course, he noticed. The young piece of ass that used to spend all day giggling and shooting the shit with his older cousin was into him now. The first night it happened, you made sure to pick up a double on a day you usually didn’t go home with Richie, and while everyone except Carmy did their best to rush out the door as soon as they possibly could, you stuck behind.

You went to the bathroom, fixed up your hair, and your makeup not enough to be noticeable to a guy that you’d changed, but enough to look fresh. You put on some more lipgloss, freshening up your body spray and hiking your tote bag onto your shoulder before heading out of the ladies' room into the back-of-house. You heard the swish swish of a scrub brush, and the plopping of water - and knew Carmy was still in there scrubbing something. When you turned the corner to see him on his hands and knees, muscular arms flexing as he really scrubbed that floor. You could tell there was something….about Carmen Berzatto.

It wasn’t just the fact his brother died, it wasn’t this strange stoic seriousness he had at not even 35, it was something else. Dedication, maybe? But you weren't sure to what because not a day went by without referring to the restaurant as ‘a shithole with decent sandwiches’ - you knew he was just keeping it running because it’s what Cicero wanted and no one denied that man. But you wanted to see if that dedication or learning ability translated into the bedroom. “Damn- You could eat off that grout” you teased. His head popped up, blue eyes twinkling under the iridescent lights.

This damn family and their pretty eyes

“The hell you still doin’ here? Y’shift ended what-” he looked at the clock, “An hour and six minutes ago” he continued scrubbing at the tile with the tiny little brush.

“Oh you memorized my shift schedule?” you teased, a small smile on your lips. You were towering over him, being sure to block his light so he would give you his attention once more.

“I make the schedule, yeah I know when my employees work” he looked up at you again “n’y’re in my light” he pushed his greasy curls out of his way with his dry hand.

“Mmm- last I checked Chef Syd did the scheduling- unless…that changed?” you asked and he looked back at the floor, scrubbing over the same spot he had been since you came over here.

He made a little ‘mm’ noise and was quiet for a few moments as he continued to scrub. “So why are you still here if y’not gettin’ paid?” he asked again. You crouched next to him, hugging your knees and he stopped, looking over at you. He could smell your perfume perfectly, your lipgloss glitter was shimmering in the light. He could very well near smell the mint coming off of your breath from the gum you had chewed an hour earlier. He swallowed thickly, blinking a few times how he did when he was confused he noticed and his eyes fan to your lips before back up to your eyes. “Uh-”

You cut him off “Cause I haven’t met you, Carmy. We haven’t talked, Why’s that?” you question with a small, innocent smile. It was true, he all but ignored you while he’d been here. The only time he spoke to you was when he absolutely had to tell you something or when he was assigning you your morning tasks when you first got in.

“W-What d’you wanna know?” he asked, tongue darting out to quickly wet his lips. He was nervous.

“Why do you ignore me for starts” you jet your bottom lip slightly out into a little barely there pout for added effect, “Tina asked me a few days ago what I did, so what did I do Carmy?” you ask gently. You knew it was because you caught him staring at you so often he thought you thought he was a creep, but you thought it was adorable how flustered he got when he’d been caught and quickly tried to make it look like he’d been focused on something else.

“Nothin- nothin’ y-you didn’t do anything m’sorry I made you feel- what’re you-” he trailed off as you gently fixed his Saint Anthony chain so it was facing front, carefully slipping your finger under the loop and pinching it between your forefinger and thumb, adjusting the clasp to be at the back of his neck.

“Sorry, small things like that bug me, I think little things bug you too, Carm” you said softly. His cheeks were getting pink, his pupils were widening. Your plan was working. “Is this ok?” you gently fixed the sleeve of his t-shirt over his bicep, the fabric deliciously stretching over his buff arm

“Mhmm” he muttered, breath catching as your hand trailed up his shoulder and resting there. “Did you um- did you need something…” he asked, voice that delicious kind of soft you adored.

“I thought you'd never ask. I’m gonna go to the back office and wait. If you think you know what I need, then come on back. If you don’t want to, we can just pretend this never happened mm?” you got up, making sure to sway your hips a tad more as you went to the back office. You pushed the door shut behind you and dropped your tote under the desk, sitting down on it and leaning back against the wall. He came in 2 minutes later, cheeks red, biting his lip as he opened the door and saw you sitting on the desk.

He blinked rapidly, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing “Jesus Christ” he muttered to himself, shutting the door behind him. “Y-y’re sure. Like- wait you mean- you mean you want me t-”

“Do whatever you want with me, chef,” you told him in a sultry tone, watching him closely as he walked over. You’d assumed he’d be just like Richie, rough, unforgiving, and sometimes even a little mean, but the way he cupped your cheek was…gentle.

“Are you sure you want this? M’y’r boss..I don’ want you t’feel like i’m…making you, ‘er somethin’” he ran his thumb over your cheekbone. He was so close that you could smell the cigarette smoke on his breath as well as the musky scent of the long workday mixed with his cologne. You were nearly put in a trance by it. In response, you gently rest your palm on the back of his neck, pulling him closer and giving him a gentle kiss.

He leaned forward, resting his hand on the side of your thigh and kissing you back, his lips hesitant on yours at first but when he felt your tongue swipe his bottom lip, his hand moved to your shoulder and gently squeezed as he opened his mouth, tongue darting out to find yours. He moaned softly at your taste, his breath coming out in small hot puffs that fanned your upper lip as you explored his mouth with your tongue. His hand that was on the desk gently moved to your hip, giving a tentative squeeze. You grabbed it, bringing it to your breast and with your hand over his, guiding him to squeeze and massage it.

He let out a little hum of realization and did as you asked, only able to do so much with a t-shirt bra and work shirt, he with trembling hands tugged at the bottom of your navy blue The Beef t-shirt, asking for permission to take it off. You pulled away, swiftly taking off the shirt and reconnecting your lips with his. Your hands made your way behind your back, unhooking your bra and pulling it off, bringing both of his hands to your breasts. You whine softly as he pinches and rolls your nipples between his fingers, the action making them even harder and perkier. He kissed down your jaw, nipping gently and sucking on the sensitive skin.

Richie can’t know this happened

“N-no marks babe- kay?” you said a bit breathlessly, hand trailing up to gently tug at his hair. He hummed in response, kissing down and mouthing over the hickeys Richie had left earlier in the week. You bit your lip as he continued to roll and tug your nipples kissing down your neck and when he finally got to your breasts you heard him mutter

“So fuckin perfect” before he took one of your perky abused nipples into his mouth, lightly sucking as you combed through his curls, taking out all the knots with your nimble fingers. With his other hand, he continued to massage your other breast, causing a moan to fall from your lips.

“You wanna fuck me? Mm? Right here over the desk? You can go as hard as you want yea?” you told him, it was nice that he was spending so much time dedicated to making you feel good, but were confused why he hadn’t just…bent you over and gotten it over with by now like Richie usually did when you fucked at work.

He pulled off with a pop, looking up at you with those wide eyes that had been darkened with lust. “Uh- Can I taste you..instead?” he asked shyly, resting his chin on your sternum gently, his hot breath puffing from his nose and tickling your chest. You raised your brows, looking at the clock - wasn’t he exhausted?! If he ate you out, that would be what - another 15 minutes on top of him getting off, would probably be another 20, so you both wouldn’t be getting out of there until 1:30 or so.

Well, if it's what he wants.

“Sure honey” You got up, slipping out of the sweats you took the train home in usually, setting them on the desk to sit on and pushing your panties down as well after kicking off your Ugg slipper shoe-type things and sitting back on the desk, spreading your thighs for him and resting one of your heels on the edge. His mouth parted slightly, nearly dropping to his knees, his curls falling in front of his eyes but he didn’t seem to care as he kissed your inner thighs, almost enjoying his time getting you worked up. He gently sucked on your nether lip, groaning lightly at your flavor. Your mouth drops as you watch him, fully blissed out as he laps at your wet folds.

“Holy shit Carmy” you breathe, gently pushing his bangs back so you could see his pretty blue eyes once again. He looks up at you, sandy brown long lashes nearly touching his bushy brows as he connects his mouth with your clit, flicking his tongue over it and running his jaw back and forth messily, a mix of drool and your arousal running over his chin. “Wow feels so good - doin’ so good Carmy” you breathe, head falling back in pleasure and breathing picking up. He was really good at this. When Richie was in the mood (AKA his back wasn't hurting, or his knees, or his shoulder) he would give you the pleasure of eating you out, and he did it well, he always made sure you came when he did it, and you never had to fake it with him.

You weren’t going to have to fake it with Carmy, either, because holy shit - he was amazing at this. You felt that familiar tightening within’ your stomach within minutes. He took one of your thighs, throwing it over his shoulder to give himself a better angle, and ran his tongue down, slipping it inside of your pussy and moaning as you gush over his tongue when his nose runs back and forth over your clit, stimulating it most deliciously. Your thigh twitched, toes curling, and a sharp moan comes from your throat, biting down roughly on your lip. “God- god Carmy, I’m cumming” you warn, Gripping his curls rougher which seemed to edge him on, rubbing you rougher with his nose and curling his tongue up against your gummy walls, wet lewd noises coming from between your thighs.

Within moments there was a fire of pleasure shooting beneath your skin as you cried out in ecstasy. Your eyes rolled beneath your lids, letting go of his hair and gripping the desk instead with a crushing grip as he worked you through the intense waves of overstimulating delight that ripped through you relentlessly. He finished with a chaste kiss on your thigh before grabbing your bra and helping you put it on as well as your panties, even finding the shirt you’d thrown and shaking off the dust from the floor before handing it over. “That was uh…really good, thank you” he wiped his chin and lips with the back of his hand, rubbing it on the back of his jeans. You shamelessly stared at his crotch and noticed the hard bulge in his jeans before looking back up at him.

“You don’t want to get rid of that? I can suck you off if you want I have a hair tie” you said, holding up your wrist to show him. He shook his head, running a hand through his hair.

“No- no you don’t owe me anything, I got what I needed don’worry. See y’tomorrow- make sure you leave through the back I already locked up the front” he said, leaving the office and closing the door behind him to give you some privacy. You sat in shock for a moment, blinking a few times. All he wanted from you was to eat you out? You’d never met another guy who simply ate you out and that was it - they’d always…expected something from you after, and of course, you gave it because you felt like they’d paid you a favor just by eating you out first even if you didn’t finish. You slip your work shirt back on, get up, and put on your sweats with shaky legs before slipping your shoes back on.

It continued like this, the days you weren't fucking Richie, you were in the back office getting eaten until you nearly passed out. Until The Beef started getting renovated, then the days you weren’t getting your brains fucked out in Richie's bed, your thighs spread wide at odd hours of the morning on Carmens’ couch, some random cooking show playing in the background as he lapped at your pussy like a man starved on his knees in front of you after kissing down your body like you were a goddess to be worshipped. If you were quite honest, you liked this routine. It felt perfect for you, you knew where your feelings lay for both of the men, and it was a stable comfortable routine on both sides.

For Richie, it was fun and flirtatious. Sneaky spanks when you came to visit and help him renovate the restaurant with Neil, rough makeout sessions in the back alley when he went out for a smoke, rough near bruising quickies in the soon-to-be walk-in freezer that hadn’t been set up yet, so it was a nice little private area you two could go. He’d even started stealing a kiss or two when you weren’t being sexual. He was protective of you, Carmy started noticing this. That was why a few weeks before the big opening, he had started being a bit more handsy with you.

The two of you started spending a lot more time together, and you realized he was even opening up to you a bit more. He began asking to see you more often, taking you out with him when he had to run errands for the opening. When he took you with him to the restaurant supply store, he had his hand rested on your lower back, gently rubbing circles as he explained to you the difference between the bunch of different kinds of cutlery. You had been baffled that there were 11 different kinds of butter knives there and he explained to you the difference between them, as well as showed you which sets went together.

It was strange you were clenching your thighs together while a man chatted you up over silverware, but the way he guided your hand to hold them so you were doing it ‘properly’ when you picked one up to get a closer look, had your heart jumping to your throat. That specific encounter was the first time you’d been able to really fuck him, and also draw some dominance out of him as well. It wasn't even his day with you, he knew it - he very well knew this, but little did you know that was the reason why he did it. You rode him hard and fast in the back of his van in the parking lot, he’d made sure to move to a spot in the way back where no one else had been parked so the two of you didn’t get caught and thrown on a registry, of course.

So, that night when you had met up with Richie after he had made you dinner and bent you over the couch for your usual Wednesday night activities - by the first yank of your hips you squeaked, “Gentle - please, daddy, not too rough..” you were glad he was taking you from behind, because you couldn’t bare the confused sweet sorry look on his face. You never asked him to be gentle with you, of course he obliged- because it was all an act. Richie was a big softie, a teddy bear. He just liked to fool around and put on the big mean daddy act in the bedroom because it was fun for the both of you.t in the bedroom because it was fun for the both of you. But he would never really want to hurt you.

“Wha’s wrong baby, mm? Why you hurtin’?” He held you up by your ribs, sweetly kissing your hairline as he thrusted slower and softer in and out of you, gently resting his lips against your forehead “was I too hard Monday? M’sorry my sweet girl” he rubbed over your breast gently as he continued his gentler strokes. His sweet girl. That caused your heart to sting a bit. You didn’t know that he liked you too, the same way you liked him. Unless it was just an act? You hope it was an act.

“Yeah” you said, knees going weaker when he reached around your front and toyed with your clit, your hips bucking at the soreness Carmen had left you with earlier.

“Yeah? Y’never been like this before sweetheart” he kissed over your neck, beard scratching at your skin.

“Mm- s’okay- feels good- like it when it hurts like this” you rest your head back on his shoulder, closing your eyes and feeling a pit of guilt setting in your stomach. Would it hurt him if he found out you had started fooling around with Carmy? You hoped not, but couldn’t help but wonder. They were family. Most of all you would hope it wouldn’t make him insecure due to the much closer proximity Carmy and your ages were. You were so lost in your own head that you didn’t even realize he was finishing inside of you like normal moaning into your hair.

“So good- such a good girl” he kissed your head. “go get cleaned up kid, gotta get outta here early t’day cus’ I needa go to Eva’s school play thing” he pats your ass gently and pulled out, leaving you draped over the arm of the couch naked from the waist down and cum leaking down your thighs. You shut your eyes for a moment, rubbing over your face before standing up and doing as he said.

A little over a week later, Carmy asked you to go straight with him. Well. Not really, he asked you if you were fucking other people to which you gave a simple yes and he just said ‘oh…wish I could be the only one’ you teased him and asked if that meant you wanted to be together, just the two of you and he said yes. So, you stopped fucking Richie. You stopped letting him kiss you in dry storage - you stopped having your ass be available for slapping as he walked by.

And man, was it hard. He looked like a sad puppy, a small pout coming to his lips when you turned your cheek causing him to kiss that instead of your lips. “ ‘ey-“ he turned your face towards him “where’s my kiss?” You just looked down at the floor, before turning and grabbing the bag of onions you’d been sent in there to get and saying

“I don’t think we should keep doing this. We should…just work together.” As much as you hated to say it, you did. Then you left the dry storage, and Richie felt his heart crack slightly. Things with him felt way more real then with Carmy, but Carmy was the one who asked you to be his, so you just…went with who asked. You had thought that was the best choice. Even though you stomped on his heart that day, he still cracked jokes with you, and was the same sweet dork you worked with before you started hooking up, the sweet dork that made you want to hook up with him in the first place.

2 days before the friends and family opening, Carmy invited you over to his so he could cook for you. You’d been able to have his cooking once before, when he’d had you come over right in front of Richie at The Beef, and held a spoon to your lips, a hand under your chin for you to try something he’d come up with. Tonight he was making his familys pasta, and when you’d got there you nearly jumped his bones when he was wearing a work shirt from The Beef. You’d never seen him in it before, he’d never worn it to work even though everyone else had to be wearing theirs.

You had a joke with yourself that he knew how yummy and slutty he looked in those stupid plain white t’s so thats why he kept wearing them.

“Hey sexy” You’d said when he opened the door, standing on your toes to kiss him deeply. He hummed, pulling you inside quickly and shutting the door behind you both so no neighbors would see. He grabbed your ass with his palms, squeezing it and spanking you lightly.

“Hey pretty girl” he said, kissing your top lip messily “y’hungry, right? Dinners almost done” he carefully brushed your hair from your face, looking down into your eyes with one of his sweet smiles.

“Mm always hungry for the best chef in the worlds food” you mused, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and playing with his curls “Why’d you never wear this at work, mm? Y’look sexy babe” you kissed his neck. He hummed, hands trailing up your back and palming over your ribs.

“Cause they’re itchy, and it’s laundry day” he said as you rubbed over his chest, grabbing at his pecks and squeezing at the flesh. He chuckled, brushing your hands “jesus someones handsy eh? He cupped your cheeks, angling your eyes towards him “food’ll burn, go wash up yeah? I’ll get y’plate ready” he pecked your lips and ran his hands down your front, grabbing your hand nd pressing it to his lips before heading back to the kitchen.

You followed as he said, going to the restroom and washing your hands as well as your makeup off with the makeup wipes that lived in his bathroom for you now, before going to his bedroom. You stepped out of your stupid waitress uniform, slipping on his white shirt that kissed just below your bum. You padded out to the kitchen, seeing him wiping the edge of your plates off with a paper towel, a kitchen rag over his shoulder. God, he looked so amazing in his element. “Hey” you said gently, going to hug him from behind

“Hey sweet girl, just about done” he sprinkled some fresh parsley over the dish masterfully, before gently rubbing over the back of your hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing it. “How was the train?” he asked and you pulled away, walking over to his couch and sitting since he’d never bothered to get a kitchen table.

“Okay, weirdo was playing a ukelele again” you plopped down, crossing your legs and looking over at the random dutch cooking program he had been watching from his station in the kitchen, “You speak dutch?” you asked, he chuckled and you weren’t sure at which statement.

“No, I don’t, I just watch, and I know what they’re doin’ by the look usually.” he came over, setting a beautiful plate of pasta in your lap and sitting down with the small pot he used for sauce, that he’d mixed the noodles in half hazardly and twirled some of the noodles on the fork, taking a bite.

Classic Carmy, serving you a Michelin Starred dish, and eating the leftover scraps.

That was the night you really fell for him. Especially after he did the same thing that he did the first time the two of you hooked up, put you first. Even if he didn’t want you to touch him, even if he was too shy to cuddle you before you fell asleep. You really felt your heart crack open for him.

The night of friends and family, though, you may as well have been a stranger. No matter what you did that night to get his attention, he fully ignored you and snapped at you, and everyone, to ‘pick up your fucking pace’. You had never had him snap at you like this. All you wanted to do was go joke around with Richie, maybe pull him into the dry storage for a quick makeout - but you couldn’t, not anymore. You missed him. You missed your old man, as much as he despised you calling him that, you adored the way he frowned and spanked you in response to the name, telling you ‘it’s already unfair when we go out they think y’my daughter’

When you had find out that Carmy had been locked in the freezer - your first instict was to rush to the back of house, comfort him- tell him it would all be fine, but you knew you couldn’t do that, and it would piss him off if you did so. You were his well kept secret, and he wanted you to stay that way. You had found out from Syd, who was really the only one to know about your short-lived relationship - since Carmy seemed to be more open with her then he did with you - his supposed girlfriend.

“He’s ok, he’s fine- look, just keep pace, ok, me and Richie will handle this - bring the plates from tinas station to table 11, ok?” she told you calmly, giving you a quick reassuring hug before whisking you off to do your job. You did as she said, putting on a smile and bringing the food out to the table, setting it down the way you’d been trained and telling them what was what before telling them to enjoy and heading back to the kitchen to pick up another round of food to bring out to an awaiting hungry group of patrons.

Three hours later, when the night was finally coming to a close- you decided it was a good time to go check on Carmy. All the guests had left, and it was just the staff at this point. You knew that the fire department was on the way since Richie had let everyone know they’d been called, and Syd was back there trying to calm him down. What you didn’t know, was Syd had told Carmy to hold on for a moment because she was gonna go tell her father goodbye and thank him for coming, so he had been left all alone in the back of house, in the freezer.

You walked in, hearing him rambling as you walk up, listening closely to what he was saying.

“Like- Like right? Right?” he chuckled a bit “W-what the fuck was I thinkin’? Huh? The fuck was I thinkin’, Syd? Like - Like I was gonna be in- “ he laughed a bit “In- i-in a relationship- er- er some shit? I-I’m a fuckin- a fuckin psycho- thats thats why, thats why I’m good at what I do, thats how I operate, Syd, you wanna be the best? I am the fucking best, because I didn’t have- any- any of this - this fuckin…bullshit! Right? I-I- I could focus, and I could concentrate, and I- I had a fuckin’ routine, an- and I had fuckin cell reception! An-” he paused. You felt your heart crack, tears filling your eyes,

You were bullshit to him.

He continued, “I dont need to provide amusement or enjoyment. I dont need to- to receive, any amusement- or - or enjoyment. Y’know? And I’m…I’m completely fine, with that. Because absolutely no amount of good, is worth how fuckin’ shitty this feels. S’just…a complete waste of my fucking time.”

You let out the sob you were holding back, gasping a breath, shaking your head and with a trembling voice, you say, “I’m really sorry you feel this way, Carmy…” before rushing out of the kitchen, hot tears running down your cheeks. You grab your bag from behind the counter, slamming into richie on the way out of the restaurant and he stopped you, grabbing your arm.

“Hey- hey kid” he said, and the soothing sound of his voice made you break down fully, starting to sob so hard you couldnt see straight, collapsing into his chest.

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry for being so shitty- I- I dont deserve you” you cried, hugging him tightly, “I have-” you took a gasping breath and look up at him “I- i’m done- tell Carmy that I’m done here….” you let go of him and rush out, quickly walking towards the train station the wind whipping your wet cheeks. You pulled out your phone, calling Carmy to leave him a voicemail.

“Hey, uh…I don’t know why you fuckin’ asked me out- but uh- fuck you, carmy. Youre right- you deserve nothing- youre a coward, and an asshole. I hate you for making me love you” you hung up, shoving your phone in your pocket, not even caring the admission that slipped past your lips as you stomped up the stairs to the L platform.

Back at the restaurant, Richie storms into the kitchen, slamming his palm on the freezer door. “Yo- the fuck did you just do?” he asked, voice laced with anger.

“I-I don’know. I-I don’ know what the fuck she heard. Dunno” Carmy said, voice indifferent to the entire thing, which just made anger bubble in his chest at his lack of caring. Richie slams his hand into the door harder, making Carmy jump a bit.

“No- asshole, I said - the fuck did you just say, to that fuckin’ girl?” Richie repeated, getting louder now.

“Richie” Carmy said, sighing to himself.

“Richie? Richie What- Tell me! Tell me, What the fuck. What the fuck did you just say to that fuckin girl, Carmen”

“Will you just shut the FUCK UP AND GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE PLEASE!” Carmy shouts, not having any part of being scolded when his fingertips felt like ice.

“Oh- oh yeah, I’ll get y’the fuck outta there, Donna” Richie mocked, so angry he didnt care how deeply he cut in the moment.

“The fuck you just say t’me?” Carmy challanged

“I-” Richie sighed, knowing he just took things too far and dropped his head back in annoyance.

“N-no- Richie- What the fuck did you just say?” Carmy asks, louder this time, Pounding on the door when he didnt get a response.

“Yo- cousin, cousin look - I don’t know why you gotta fuck up everything good in your life. That girl is nice, shes a good fuckin friend t’you” Richie explained, completely oblivious to everything that had really been going on.

“Are you -” Carmen laughs “Are you fucking kidding me right now?!” he spits, the comparison to his mother causing fire to race through his veins.

“No- No i’m not, cousin, someones gotta tell you this shit, ‘eh? First fuckin friend after comin’ home you go ahead and make her cry?!” Richie scolded.

“FUCK YOU! Fuck you Richie!” Carmy yells, running his hands through his hair,

“Ohhh yea, here we go, fuck me, yeeeaaa Carm” he mocked him.

“Yeah! Yeah fuck you fuckin loser. You wouldn’t have shit without me. So fuck you!” carmy shouted at him, his breath coming out in large frosty puffs in front of him.

“Oh-” Richie chuckled, a twinge in his chest that Carmy was willing to cut so deep so quickly “Yeah- yeah tough guy” he mocked, voice getting meeker

“Yeah! Yeah! You- Or y’fuckin kid- fuckin loser - only reason you have anything is me!” Carmy roars, slamming on the door “so ye’ cousin, fuck you!”

“My KID? Y’gonna talk about my KID? Well at least I have a fuckin kid! What d’you have other then a restaurant, jackass!” he yelled back.

“YEAH? I HAVE THE GIRL YOU BEEN FUCKIN’ FOR THE PAST YEAR, MORON. Why you think she dropped you so fast? Huh? You fucking idiot! She chose me- so ye’. I am the reason you have what you have AND I’LL TAKE WHATEVER I FUCKING WANT. FUCK YOU” He yelled through the door, kicking it with his chefs clog.

Richies mouth dropped, stepping back and feeling as if he’d just been stabbed in the heart. “What?” he said, believing his ears were playing tricks on him, how could Carmy do such a thing to him?

“Yeah- yeah. She chose me, and guess what, I fucked her because i wanted to show you I could. Y’fuckin prick” he sat down on one of the boxes of frozen steaks, rubbing over his face roughly. Richie raced out of the kitchen, telling Syd he was ‘done’ and quickly taking out his phone to call you.

Back in the freezer, Carmens phone buzzed. He looked at it, seeing a voicemail from you that finally pushed through. When he heard your sad, broken voice, admit that he’d caused you to hate him by his behaviour made him chuck his phone against the freezer wall so hard that the screen shattered.

Never so badly had he ever fucked up, and by doing so he lost the best thing to ever happen to him.

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