#[ I MEAN IT'S BEEN AGES SINCE THEY DECIDED TO GET TATTOOS ]
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u10como · 3 days ago
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Love, Toes and Pistons
Greaves & Daughter, a car repair shop on the outskirts of a small town, smelled like motor oil and sun-baked metal, a heady cocktail of nostalgia and hard work. Riley, 22 year old young woman with shoulder length auburn hair and joyful brown eyes, sat cross-legged on a rolling stool, her foot gripping a socket wrench as she tightened the bolts on an old Dodge Charger’s engine mount. Riley had no arms, ever since she was born. Her worn, oil-stained tank top revealed her bare shoulders, adorned with sunflower tattoos where one would otherwise expect arms to be. Her movements were smooth and practiced, her feet more dexterous than most people’s hands.
“Turn it just a little more,” came her father’s voice from the corner.
Riley glanced up. Gus Greaves, 62 year old man with broad shoulders, receding grey hair and wrinkled face with a large oil smudge on his forehead, leaned heavily on his cane, his age and life of hard work showing in his once impressive stature, but his eyes sharp as ever. “It’s snug,” she replied, shifting her weight to check her work.
“Snug ain’t tight.”
Riley smirked, obliging him with another firm twist. The bolt groaned into place. “Happy now, old man?”
“Ecstatic,” Gus deadpanned, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Just remember, if that thing rattles loose, you’re buying the replacement parts.”
She rolled her eyes, setting the wrench down. The Charger’s owner, a middle-aged woman named Lisa, peeked around the corner. “How’s it lookin’, Riley?”
“Purring like a kitten,” Riley replied, brushing her heel against her jeans to wipe off some grease. “Want to hear it for yourself?”
Lisa nodded eagerly, and Riley reached up with her foot to flick the ignition key dangling from the dashboard. The engine roared to life, smooth and steady. Lisa beamed.
“You’re a lifesaver! I’ve got a long haul ahead this weekend, and I can’t thank you enough.”
Riley shrugged, smiling. “Just doing my job.”
Gus watched the exchange with quiet pride, but his expression turned somber as Lisa drove off, leaving the shop quiet again.
“You know,” he said after a moment, “when I opened this place, I thought I’d be the one calling the shots until I kicked the bucket.”
“You still are calling the shots,” Riley replied, standing and brushing her feet off on the mat. “You just do it from the sidelines now.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Gus leaned forward on his cane. “It’s a hard business, Riles. People are stubborn. They’ll see a young woman like you—”
“And one without arms none the less,” Riley cut in, raising an eyebrow.
He sighed. “Yeah. That, too. You’ve got talent, no question. But you’ll have to prove it over and over. You ready for that?”
She paused, her expression softening. “Dad, I’ve been proving it my whole life. To teachers, strangers, and sometimes even to you.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Fair enough.”
***
Riley's coming to this world was a bittersweet mix of hope and tragedy.
Her parents had long tried for a child with no success. 18 years of marriage and three miscarriages later, by the time Gus Greaves, tall, muscular man with bright, kind eyes and brown hair aproached his 40th year of age, his wife Eileen, a beautiful, petite woman with long braid of auburn hair and green eyes, who looked at least a decade younger than her actual age of 36, greeted him with a beaming smile.
"Guess who's going to be a dad?"
"Are you..." Gus blinked in surprised and smiled. "Are you sure, love?"
"Absolutely. 17th week and her heart beats strong." replied Eileen.
"Her? We're going to have a daughter?"
"Is that a problem?"
"Absolutely not. I mean, i could use a son to help in my shop, i'm not getting any younger, but as long as she's healthy, i'm happy."
"As you should be," Smiled Eileen and approached Gus for a kiss. I already decided on a name too. I want to name her Riley. It has a nice ring to it."
"Shouldn't i have a say in this?"
"Alright, husband, what is your suggestion?" Winked Eileen.
"Ella. After my late granny. That name's got tradition in my family, dating well into 1830s."
"I don't like Ella. Don't get me wrong, your grandma, god rest her soul, was a great woman, but the name feels... dated." Replied Eileen.
"Well, you have a right to your opinion, honey. Let's keep the options open and decide when our little Ella is born, shall we?"
"Gus!" Laughed Eileen and shoved her husband playfully. You said it like you're already decided.
"Well, i might be, love," smiled Gus, "But what do you know? Anything can yet happen and i might change my mind..."
***
23 weeks later, Gus Greaves was sitting in a hospital corridor, feeling a mix of emotions. Fear, sadness, grief, but also hope. He was crying large, bitter tears, for the first time in his life since he was a little boy, mourning the death of his wife Eileen, who died in labor.
“Mr. Greaves?”
He looked up to see a nurse standing in the doorway. Her expression was kind but tinged with sadness.
“It’s time to meet your daughter,” she said softly.
Gus’s legs felt like lead as he stood and followed her down the hall. He wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded.
The nurse led him into a nursery where several children born in the past few days lied in small bassinets, wrapped tightly in pink or blue blankets. Anong them was his daughter.
Gus approached hesitantly, his breath catching in his throat as he looked down at the tiny bundle. She was so small, her face scrunched in a peaceful sleep. But as his eyes moved down to her shoulders, his chest tightened.
She had no arms.
A flood of emotions hit him all at once—grief for Eileen, fear for what the world would think of his daughter, but also love at the sight of her tiny, peaceful face, already bearing resemblance to his late wife.
“She was born without arms,” the nurse explained, her voice compassionate. “But she’s healthy and strong. She’s already a fighter, Mr. Greaves.”
Gus nodded, unable to speak. Slowly, he reached into the bassinet and lifted his daughter into his arms. Her weight was impossibly light, yet she felt like the heaviest burden he’d ever carried.
As he cradled her, the baby stirred. Her tiny foot emerged from the blanket, curling and stretching, searching for something. Gus extended his finger without thinking, and to his astonishment, her toes wrapped around it tightly, holding on with surprising strength.
The gesture broke something in him, and tears once again started streaming down his face. He could almost hear Eileen’s voice, her stubborn insistence, her unwavering belief that their child would be extraordinary.
“Riley,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Your name is Riley.”
He looked down at her, a fierce determination settling in his chest. “I don’t know how I’m going to do this,” he said, his voice trembling. “But I promise you, I’ll figure it out. I’ll give you everything I’ve got, kid. I’ll make sure you never feel like you’re missing a damn thing.”
Riley’s grip on his finger tightened, as if she understood.
In that moment, Gus Greaves, newly widowed and utterly broken, found a purpose stronger than his grief. His daughter had already shown him her will to live, her strength, her fight. He would honor Eileen's memory by giving Riley the life she deserved.
***
It was late afternoon, and the garage was sweltering. 8 year old Riley, wearing boyish clothes, sat cross-legged on the floor, watching Gus wrestle with a rusted bolt under the hood of a pickup truck. She was fascinated by the tools—how each had a purpose, like puzzle pieces in her father’s hands She always played with the tools, leaving a mess, which didn't exactly please Gus, who had then to search the tools all over the garage, sometimes arranged into a improvised race track, along which Riley pushed her toy cars.
“Hand me the ratchet, kiddo. If you're goint to be messing with my tools, at least make yourself useful” he called, barely glancing at her.
Riley scanned the tools scattered around her, locating the ratchet. Clutching it in her left foot, she turned around and dropped it into her father's large, calloused hand.
Gus smiled at her and nodded before returning to work. “Thanks, Riles.”
He finished the job while humming 'Dust in the Wind'. It was Eileen's favorite song and ever since her passing, he always hummed it while working, making him feel like Eileen is still with him, looking over his shoulder. When the work was done, Gus stepped back, wiping sweat from his brow.
“Alright, kid. I have an idea. If you like the tools so much, let's make sure you can handle them properly. Grab the crescent wrench and follow me to that Corolla over there."
From that day on, Gus let Riley help with bolts, nuts and other simple tasks around the shop. The work she was assigned wasn't very important in the larger picture, but it kept her occupied and saved Gus some time to focus on the more important tasks. After all, she was still too young to work on her own, or, so Gus thought.
***
Two years later, the late afternoon sunlight poured into the garage, filtering through the wide doors and glinting off scattered tools. It was one of those days when the heat outside was unbearable and the road in front of the garage stenched of molten asphalt . Riley, ten years old and restless, wandered into the shop, barefoot as always. Her father was nowhere to be seen, having stepped out to run errands, but the familiar, greasy scent of the place was like home.
A battered, candy-red sedan sat in the center of the garage, hood propped open, its guts exposed like a patient on the operating table. Riley stared at it, curious. She knew this car—it belonged to Mrs. Moreno, the kind elderly woman who always brought her cookies whenever she came by for a repair.
On impulse, Riley approached the car. She knew from overhearing her father earlier that the sedan had been running rough, stalling at stoplights. Gus had muttered something about the throttle cable needing adjustment, then sighed about how everything these days was more trouble than it was worth.
Riley wasn’t sure what a throttle cable was exactly, but she’d seen her father work often enough to know how to look for problems. Propping herself up on a nearby stool, she leaned forward, her toes curling around the lip of the car’s engine bay. Her gaze roved over the tangle of parts until her eyes landed on a cable that looked…off. Frayed. Loose.
Her heart quickened with excitement. I bet that’s it.
She scanned the area for the tools she’d need: a pair of pliers and a small wrench. Sliding to the floor, she grasped them with her feet, one at a time, her movements deliberate and careful. Years of practice had made her feet deft, though she’d never attempted anything this ambitious before.
Returning to the stool, she balanced herself and leaned in. Her foot gripped the pliers firmly as she nudged the cable into place. Sweat trickled down her temple, and her tongue peeked out in concentration as she tightened the bolt with the wrench, testing it a couple of times to make sure it was secure.
She was so absorbed in her work that she didn’t hear the shop door creak open.
“What in the—”
Riley froze. Slowly, she turned to see Gus standing in the doorway, a brown paper bag of groceries in his hand, his expression a mix of confusion and disbelief.
“Dad, I—” she started, her face flushing.
He set the bag down on the counter, crossing the room in a few strides. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his voice low and unreadable.
“I just…” She faltered, glancing back at the cable. Her foot still held the wrench, evidence of her meddling. “I was trying to help.”
He stared at her, his eyes darting from the car to the tools in her feet, then back to her flushed, defiant face. For a moment, she braced herself for the lecture she was sure would follow—how dangerous it was, how she should have waited for him, how she didn’t know what she was doing.
But instead, Gus did something unexpected. He leaned over the engine, inspected the cable, and gave it an experimental tug. It held firm.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered.
Riley blinked. “What?”
“You fixed it.” He straightened, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Not bad, kid. Not bad at all.”
“Really?” she asked, hardly daring to believe it.
“Yeah. Really.” He grabbed a rag and wiped his hands, though they weren’t dirty. “Guess you’ve been paying more attention than I thought.”
Riley’s chest swelled with pride, but her father’s next words caught her off guard.
“Alright,” he said, his tone business like. “If you’re serious about this, we’re gonna do it right. No guessing. No cutting corners. I’ll teach you everything you need to know, but you gotta promise me you’ll do it my way—carefully.”
Her eyes widened. “You mean it?”
He squatted down to her level, his expression softening. “I’ve seen the way you watch me work, Riley. You’ve got the knack. And it looks like you’ve got the guts, too.” He gave her a small smile. “But you’ve also got a lot to learn. So? You in?”
She nodded so fast her hair bounced. “Yeah! I’m in!”
“Alright, then.” He stood, grabbing a wrench from the workbench and twirling it in his fingers. “First lesson: always double-check your adjustments. Just because it looks good doesn’t mean it’ll hold under pressure.”
For the next hour, they worked side by side. Gus explained the mechanics of the throttle cable, walking her through the process step by step, while Riley absorbed every word like a sponge.
When they were done, he handed her the keys.
“Go on,” he said. “Take her for a spin. Let’s see how she runs.”
Riley’s jaw dropped. “You’re letting me drive?”
“You’re not driving,” Gus corrected, smirking. “You’re sitting on my lap and steering while I work the pedals. Don’t get cocky.”
She didn’t care. As she climbed into the driver’s seat, the pride and joy bubbling inside her were enough to light up the whole garage.
***
The shop had never been quieter. Riley, now sixteen, stood in front of the engine block perched on the workbench, her feet planted firmly on the stool she used for leverage. The AMC straight-six engine was a hulking piece of machinery—greasy, scarred by time, and utterly beautiful to her. It wasn’t her first rebuild, but it was the most ambitious.
Her father’s voice echoed in her mind: "Take it slow. Engines don’t care how fast you are. They care how right you are."
She’d started by tearing it down piece by piece, cleaning years of grime from the cylinder walls, valves, and pistons. Now, weeks into the project, the engine was coming back to life under her meticulous care.
The parts were laid out in careful order: pistons and rods, freshly machined crankshaft, camshaft, lifters, and timing gears. Riley leaned forward, gripping a torque wrench in her foot as she tightened the bolts holding the cylinder head in place. Every movement was deliberate, her toes curling around the wrench like fingers.
“Not too tight,” came her father’s voice from the doorway. Gus, still the imposing man he used to be, but the greying hair of his temples slowly starting to show his age, crossed his arms, watching with a critical but approving eye. “You strip that thread, you’ll be cryin’ when you gotta redo the whole thing.”
“Relax, Dad,” Riley shot back, not taking her eyes off her work. “I’ve got this.”
“Guess I’ll shut up, then,” Gus said with mock surrender, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“Good plan.”
***
Two days later, Riley stood in the shop as her father lowered the engine into a test stand. The shop air was thick with the smell of engine oil and anticipation. Gus turned to her, tossing her a set of keys.
“Alright, Riles. Moment of truth. Let’s see if your baby purrs or sputters.”
She caught the keys deftly with her foot and flashed him a confident grin. “She’ll purr.”
Inserting the key, she flipped the ignition and pressed the starter button with her foot. The engine coughed once, twice—then roared to life. The straight-six purred, smooth and steady, the vibrations reverberating through the garage. Riley’s grin widened as Gus let out a low whistle.
“Not bad, kid. Not bad at all.”
“Not bad?” Riley said, raising an eyebrow. “That’s perfect.”
“Let’s not get cocky,” Gus replied, but the pride in his voice was unmistakable.
For weeks afterward, Riley spent her mornings studying for her driver’s license and her afternoons behind the wheel of Gus’s truck. Learning to drive without arms was no small feat, but Gus had never been one to shy away from unconventional solutions.
Together, they modified the truck with a knob on it's steering wheel, making it easier for her to tun with her foot, and pedal extensions. Riley practiced tirelessly, her feet learning the delicate choreography of accelerating, braking, and turning.
“You’ve got to feel the road,” Gus would say during every lesson, his voice gruff but patient. “It’s not just driving. It’s listening. Cars tell you when something’s wrong—you just gotta pay attention.”
Riley did more than pay attention. She excelled. On her test day, she passed with flying colors, the examiner staring in awe as she navigated the course with a level of precision most drivers could only dream of.
***
The day she got her license, Gus called her into the shop. “Got something for you, Riles” he said, his tone unreadable.
“What, another lecture?” Riley teased, wiping her feet on a rag as she followed him.
But when she stepped into the garage, her breath caught. Sitting in the center of the bay was an AMC Pacer, freshly washed, its baby-blue paint gleaming in the sunlight.
“Dad…” she breathed, stepping closer.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Gus said, smirking. “Pop the hood.”
She did as he asked, her fingers brushing the latch. When the hood swung open, her eyes went wide.
“It’s…is this my engine?” she asked, staring at the pristine straight-six nestled inside.
“Sure is,” Gus replied. “I figured you’d earned it after all the hours you put in.”
Riley turned to him, her expression a mix of shock and joy. “You mean this whole time I was rebuilding my car?”
“Had to keep you busy somehow,” he said with a shrug. “Besides, I knew you’d take better care of it if you built it yourself.”
Riley felt a lump rise in her throat, but she pushed it down, unwilling to get too sentimental. “You sneaky old man,” she said, a grin spreading across her face.
“Call me whatever you want, kiddo,” Gus said, tossing her the keys. “Just don’t wreck it.”
She caught the keys and turned to the car, lifting her left foot, her toes brushing the driver’s side door. Sliding into the seat, she ran her toes over the pedals and steering wheel, feeling the weight of the moment settle over her.
Starting the engine, she listened as it rumbled to life—her engine, her car, her accomplishment.
“Where you headed first?” Gus asked, leaning on the doorway.
Riley grinned, pulling on her seatbelt with her foot. “Anywhere I want.”
With that, she backed out of the shop, Gus watching with a proud smile as the little blue Pacer disappeared down the road.
***
The shop was busier than usual for a Friday afternoon. Riley, now eighteen year old woman with small chest, long, lean legs and shoulder length auburn hair tied in a bun, was crouched next to a rusted-out pickup, her foot maneuvering a socket wrench as she tightened the lug nuts on a newly installed tire.She grew to beauty, reminding Gus of her mother, but with a noteable tomboyish spin, which frankly was a better fir for a mechanic anyway. Her father leaned against the counter, flipping through a parts catalog while keeping an ear on the phone conversation with a supplier.
The clang of the shop bell announced a new customer. Riley didn’t look up until she heard a voice that dripped with impatience and irritation.
“Hey, uh, I’ve got a Camry out there,” the man said. “Brakes are squealing. Shouldn’t be a big deal, so if you can knock it out quick, that’d be great.”
Riley stood, wiping her foot on a rag, and glanced toward the counter. The man was in his late forties, with a weathered face and a stained baseball cap. He didn’t seem like the polite type.
“Let’s take a look,” Gus said, grabbing his cane He hurt his foot last year and ever since then, he walked with a limp. He was a stubborn man and insisted on still being strong enough to work in his own shop, but deep inside, he knew he would no longer be able to do everything on his own and was glad he had Riley to lean on. “Riley, you free?”
Riley nodded, stepping forward. The man’s eyes flicked to her, then down to her missing arms. He blinked, his mouth opening slightly in surprise.
“She’s gonna do it?” he asked, his tone dripping with skepticism.
“Yes,” Gus said flatly, his voice brooking no argument.
The man hesitated, his brows furrowing. “Look, no offense, but brakes are kinda important, you know? I’d feel better if—”
“If what?” Riley cut in, her voice calm but sharp enough to slice through the tension.
The man glanced at her, then back at Gus. “If someone else looked at it,” he said, lowering his voice as if she couldn’t hear him.
Gus straightened, fixing the man with a steady gaze. “Riley’s the best mechanic I’ve got. If you don’t trust her, you’re welcome to take your car nest town over.”
The man huffed, crossing his arms. “Fine. Just make sure she knows what she’s doing.”
Riley rolled her eyes but said nothing, walking past him toward the lot where the Camry sat.
***
The Camry was a mess. Riley crouched next to the front wheel, examining the brakes. The caliper bolts were corroded, the pads worn so thin they’d started grinding into the rotors, which were warped beyond repair.
Gus approached as Riley stood. “How bad?”
“Bad,” she replied. “Bolts are seized, rotors are toast, and the pads might as well not exist. This guy’s lucky he hasn’t wrapped this thing around a tree.”
Gus nodded. “Think you can handle it?”
Riley smirked. “I’ve got it.”
***
Back in the shop, Riley secured the Camry on the lift and removed the wheels, revealing the full extent of the damage. The caliper bolts were so corroded they wouldn’t budge. Riley grabbed a drill with a hardened bit, clamping it between her toes.
The man wandered into the bay as the drill screamed against the stubborn bolts. He flinched at the noise.
“What’s she doing?” he asked Gus, who was watching from a safe distance.
“Removing bolts that should’ve been replaced ten years ago,” Gus said dryly.
“Shouldn’t this be quick?” the man grumbled.
“Not when the brakes are this bad,” Gus replied, gesturing toward the car. “Your rotors are warped, and your pads are metal-on-metal. This isn’t a ‘quick fix.’”
The man opened his mouth to argue but stopped as Riley finally freed the last bolt. She stepped back, setting the drill down and examining the rotor.
“Yup, it’s shot,” she muttered, then turned to Gus. “We’re gonna need replacements. I doubt anyone local has these in stock.”
“Let me check, Riles” Gus said, heading for the phone.
Riley turned to the man, who was now watching her with a mix of unease and begrudging respect. “You ever replace your brake fluid?” she asked.
He frowned. “Uh... I don’t know. Maybe? It’s been a while.”
“A long while,” Riley said, gesturing toward the sludge in the brake lines. “No wonder your brakes are fried. This is the kind of thing you have to keep up with, or it gets expensive.”
The man looked sheepish but said nothing.
***
It took Gus half an hour to find a supplier willing to ship the rotors from another state. In the meantime, Riley cleaned the calipers and prepped the car for the new parts.
The man lingered in the corner of the shop, awkwardly silent until finally blurting out, “So... how long you been doing this?”
“Since I was ten,” Riley replied without looking up.
He blinked. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” She paused, glancing at him. “And before you ask, yes, I can do just about anything you’d expect a mechanic to do. No, I don’t need help. And yes, I’m damn good at it.”
The man raised his hands defensively. “Alright, alright. I get it. Just... didn’t expect this, you know?”
Riley shrugged, turning back to her work. “Most people don’t. Doesn’t mean I can’t prove them wrong.”
***
Two days later, the parts arrived. Riley installed the new rotors and pads, bled the brake lines, and finished the job with her usual precision. She tested the car on the shop’s lot, ensuring the brakes were smooth and responsive before parking it out front.
The man returned, eyeing the car nervously.
“She’s ready,” Riley said, handing him the keys with her foot.
He hesitated. “And it’s... safe?”
Riley smiled, nodding towards the car. “Test it yourself.”
He climbed in and drove a slow loop around the lot. When he returned, he stepped out, his expression sheepish.
“Drives better than it has in years,” he admitted.
Riley smirked. “Imagine that.”
The man fumbled with his wallet, glancing at Gus as he handed over the payment. “You’ve got one hell of a mechanic here,” he said, jerking his thumb toward Riley.
“Yeah,” Gus replied, his voice tinged with pride. “I know.”
The man nodded at Riley, awkward but sincere. “Thanks.”
She waved him off with her foot, already turning back to the next job.
***
The shop was unusually quiet that afternoon, with Gus out running errands and Riley alone in the garage. She was perched on her usual stool, leaning over the engine bay of a beat-up Jeep Cherokee with a bad alternator. The rhythmic clinking of her foot manipulating a ratchet echoed through the space, accompanied by the low hum of a classic rock radio station playing in the background.
Her focus was so intent that she didn’t hear the bell over the door jingle, nor the hesitant footsteps approaching from behind.
“Riley?”
The voice startled her. She jerked upright, nearly dropping the ratchet. Turning, she saw him standing there—Alex Harper, the guy she’d spent three years secretly pining over in high school.
Tall, with messy brown hair and that effortlessly charming smile, Alex looked like he’d just stepped out of her dream. He wore a well-worn hoodie and jeans, his hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets.
“Alex?” she said, blinking in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“I, uh…” He scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "Figured I owed you an apology for how my dad acted here the other day.”
Riley raised an eyebrow. “That Camry guy was your dad? Yeah, you don’t have to apologize for him.”
“Maybe not,” Alex admitted, stepping closer, “but I feel like I should. He can be... well, you saw.”
“Yeah, I saw,” Riley said, though her voice lacked any real bite. “But I’ve dealt with worse.”
Alex nodded, his gaze flicking to the Jeep’s open hood before returning to her. “Still, I’m sorry. He was out of line. You’re incredible, Riley. He didn’t have any right to doubt you.”
Her cheeks flushed at the unexpected compliment. She glanced away, fiddling with the ratchet still clutched between her toes. “Thanks. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is, though,” Alex insisted, his voice softening. “I mean, you’ve always been amazing. Back in school, I used to watch you during science class—how you figured out stuff faster than anyone else. You were so focused, so... determined.”
Riley’s head snapped up, her heart racing. “You... noticed me?”
Alex chuckled, his cheeks reddening. “I mean, of course I did. Who wouldn’t?”
Riley looked down at her armless shoulders and shrugged. " Oh yeah, kinda hard to miss, i guess?"
"I mean, sure, that too, but... I wasn't really talking about that. I mean, you know... You're smart and pretty..."
Riley stared at him, her mind a whirlwind of disbelief and cautious hope. “Pretty? Me? You're, like, the first person to call me that. Besides my dad, that is.”
Alex stepped closer, his smile gentle. “Well, it's true, though. And I was hoping…” He paused, glancing down and taking a deeper breath as if gathering his courage. “I was hoping maybe I could take you out sometimes? You know, dinner or something. If you’re interested.”
For a moment, Riley was too stunned to respond. She’d imagined this scenario a hundred times, but it had always felt like a far-off dream. And yet, here he was—Alex Harper, the boy she’d silently crushed on for years—asking her out.
“Oh... WOW...I...” She faltered, her insecurities threatening to creep in. She glanced down at her missing arms, then back at him. “Are you sure?”
Alex frowned slightly, his expression earnest. “Riley, come on. Of course I am. I’ve wanted to ask you out for a long time, but I figured you weren’t interested. I didn’t think I stood a chance.”
Riley let out a shaky laugh, her nerves giving way to disbelief. “You’re kidding. YOU didn't think you stood a chance? I’ve had a crush on you since sophomore year!”
His eyes widened in surprise, then softened with something that looked a lot like relief. “Really?”
“Yeah,” she admitted, a shy smile playing with her lips.
“Well,” he said, grinning now, “I guess we’ve got a lot of lost time to make up for.”
Riley felt her confidence returning, the weight of her doubts lifting. “Alright,” she said, tilting her head toward the clock on the wall. “I’m off at six. Pick me up then? she offered her foot.”
Alex nodded, his grin widening as he shook Riley's foot. “It’s a date, then.”
As he left, the shop seemed a little brighter, the air a little lighter. Riley turned back to the Jeep, her heart still racing but now with excitement. For the first time in a long time, she felt like maybe—just maybe—she has a place in the world outside of the garage too.
***
Riley stood in front of the mirror in her small bedroom, staring at her reflection. She’d traded her usual oil-stained coveralls for a simple navy-blue dress, its sleeveless cut emphasizing her armless shoulders. Her hair, normally tied back in a messy ponytail, was down, curling loosely around her face.
“You look great,” she whispered to herself, trying to believe it.
The sound of tires crunching on gravel outside the house pulled her from her thoughts. She glanced out the window and saw Alex’s car parked in the driveway. A nervous thrill shot through her as she grabbed her small purse with her toes, swung it over her shoulder and made her way outside.
Alex was leaning against the passenger door of his clean but slightly dented sedan, dressed in a casual button-up shirt and jeans. When he saw her, his face lit up.
“Wow,” he said, pushing off the car. “You look... amazing.”
Riley blushed, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself.”
He grinned and opened the car door for her. “Ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she said as she got in, beaming with happiness.
***
Alex took her to a cozy diner just outside of town. It wasn’t fancy, but it was warm and inviting, with checkered tablecloths and the smell of frying bacon in the air. Riley appreciated the casual vibe—it felt less intimidating than a formal restaurant.
They sat across from each other in a corner booth, talking as they waited for their food to arrive.
“I’ve been thinking about that Jeep you were working on,” Alex said. “Was it as bad as the Camry?”
Riley snorted. “Not even close. Your dad’s car was practically a death trap.”
Alex winced. “Yeah, he’s not exactly big on maintenance. I’m just glad he didn’t kill anyone.”
Riley shrugged. “That’s what we’re here for—to keep people like him alive despite their best efforts.”
Alex laughed, and Riley found herself relaxing. They talked about everything—work, school, their favorite music, and funny stories from high school. Riley was surprised at how easy it felt, how natural.
“So,” Alex said, leaning forward, “what made you want to be a mechanic? Was it your dad?”
“Partly,” Riley admitted, sipping her soda through a straw, her left foot under her chin. “But mostly it was just... I don’t know. I liked solving problems. Cars make sense to me. You figure out what’s wrong, you fix it, and they work. People are way more complicated.”
Alex nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I get that. But you’re good with people too, you know.”
Riley raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”
“I know so,” he said. “You didn’t just fix my dad’s car. You handled him, and that’s no small feat.”
Riley laughed, coverig her mouth with her toes. “Fair point.”
***
After the dinner, Alex suggested a walk by the nearby river. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. They strolled along the path, the cool evening breeze playing with the hem of her dress.
“So, you really had a crush on me all this time?Alex asked, his hands in his pockets.
Riley smiled. “Oh absolutely. But i never thought i stood a chance. I figured you're way out of my league.”
He stopped walking and turned to her, his expression serious. “Out of your league? Riley, you’re one of the coolest, smartest people I’ve ever met. If anything, I was worried you wouldn’t say yes.”
Her heart skipped a beat, and she looked away, suddenly shy. “It’s just... I’ve always been self-conscious about, you know, not having arms. I didn’t think anyone would...”
“Would what?” Alex asked, stepping closer.
“Would see past that. I mean, in the shop, knee deep in the engine bay i feel perfectly confident, but outside, no matter how much i'm trying to be just like everyone else, i know how people look at me” she admitted.
Alex’s voice softened. “Riley, when I look at you, I don’t see someone without arms. I see someone who’s strong, determined, and amazing at what she does. That’s what matters to me. ”
She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for any trace of insincerity. She found none.
“Thanks,” she said quietly, a small smile forming.
***
They reached a wooden bench overlooking the river and sat down. The sound of water rushing over rocks filled the silence as they watched the last light of the day fade into twilight.
“Can I tell you something?” Alex asked.
“Sure,” Riley said, glancing at him.
“I used to be intimidated by you,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “You always seemed so sure of yourself, like you didn’t care what anyone thought. It wasn’t until today I realized you were just as nervous about some things as the rest of us.”
Riley chuckled softly. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m a better actress than I thought.”
He turned to her, his expression serious again. “You don’t have to act around me, Riley. I like you just the way you are.”
The words, soft and reassuring, filled Riley with happiness. Riley’s heart raced as she met his gaze.
“Alex...” she started, but he interrupted her by leaning closer, his eyes asking for permission.
She nodded slightly, and their lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss.
When they pulled apart, Riley couldn’t help but smile. “Well, that was unexpected.”
“Good unexpected?” Alex asked, grinning.
“The best kind,” she said.
***
Alex dropped her off at home later that night, walking her to the door like a perfect gentleman.
“I had a great time tonight,” he said.
“Me too,” Riley replied, feeling a warmth she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
“So... can I see you again?” he asked, his voice hopeful.
She smiled. “Definitely.”
***
Back in the present, Gus handed Riley the shop’s ledger as the two stood at the front counter. The cover was worn, the pages smudged with years of grime.
“Guess this makes it official,” he said, his voice thick. “Greaves & Daughter Auto Repair. You’re in charge now.”
Riley lifted her left foot and took the book in her toes, holding it carefully as she set it on the counter. “I won’t let you down, Dad.”
“I know you won’t” he said, patting her shoulder. “But don’t let yourself down either. You’ve got a gift, Riles. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
The clang of the shop bell interrupted them as a customer walked in. Riley squared her shoulders, stepping forward with a practiced smile.
“Welcome to Greaves & Daughter,” she said. “What can I do for you?”
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slut4jeon · 2 months ago
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Company (jjk)
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Pairing: brothers bsf!jk x fm!reader
Sypnosis: Your longtime crush who happens to be your older brothers best friends walks into you humping your pillow to the thought of him
Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected sex, dry/pillow humping, nudity, reader has an IUD, etc…
Note: hey yawl it’s been a while… if anything sounds off jus so yk it’s not proofread :)
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You’ve always carried a long crush for your older brothers bestfriend Jeon Jungkook.
Your ages being separate by 2 years, you’ve always remembered the chicks your older brother Taehyung would sneak into his room after a night out meanwhile your parents slept peacefully in their room.
As of now, this carried onto his current college days. Attending frat parties along with his best friend since childhood, Jungkook.
Your heart ached to be seen as nothing but Taehyungs younger sister to jungkook and others known to him. Especially when after those late night outs you’d come to find a chick wrapped around Jungkook’s meaty arms. You wanted jungkook to see you as a woman who harbored deep feeling for him.
And so, your decided to attend the same college as your brother. It not being that far off your home moving onto campus was not required. Unlike jungkook whose family had moved farther off from town your parents gladly took him in. Knowing him since he was a little boy they allowed him to crash in taehyungs spacious room.
This only made your crush on him worse, you were too shy to even start a conversation with him. Despite your shyness he always acknowledged your presence, never making you feel left out or ignored. Your interactions with him were limited, and every convo was initiated by him with little teases and silly remarks. He’s such a kind guy, no wonder your lingering crush only heightened with him staying in your home.
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Classes were over for you and generally Taehyung was always the one to drive you home considering he had a car. A sudden message from him vibrates your phone you carry in your palm.
3:52 pm taetae: not on campus so I asked jk to give you a ride home today
great.
pulling into the campus parking in his car was jungkook, “hey, tae asked me to drive you back home for today he’s out so he’ll be back tomorrow” he said with his silver pierced charming grin
“hi, thanks for driving me back home” you said with your typical shy demeanor as you made way into the passenger seat of his car
“don’t worry about it, sweets”
oh.
That was the nickname he’d given you many many years ago cause of the constant snacking of sweets and candys. He payed notice to that then coining you the nickname “sweets”
You turned your head faced to the direction of the window to hide the rosy cheeks he gave you from pet name
Too shy to keep the conversation going jungkook spoke, bringing up school and asking about your classes. All came to an end once he pulled into the driveway of your home.
“Your brother won’t be back today, he’s spending the night with jennie today”, jungkook said while opening the refrigerator to get a class of water.
dammit.
You thought to yourself. You’re parents are out at work and don’t arrive til 9pm. So that means it’s just you and Jungkook for the meanwhile. What a mess, you figured you were gonna stay locked in your room for the remaining time until your parents got home.
“Well, I’m just gonna work on my assignments due tomarrow…”
“Alright, I’m off to the gym. In case anything happens feel free to call me, okay?”, the tattooed man said.
The muscular man did go to the gym everyday though. Usually around 4:30pm for about at least 2 hours.
“Okay” last thing said between you two before grabbing his gym bag and making his way out the door.
“Hey Jungkook?”
“Yea?”
“Thanks for looking out for me”, this time you held onto the eye contact made between both irises. Making sure to illuminate your gratitude to him.
He offered you a grin from his silver pierced lips, “no problem, sweets”
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You could not get Jungkook out of your head. It was impossible to focus on your assignments without thinking about the tall raven hair tattooed man with the bunny smile. He lingered your mind, causing stress.
Closing your MacBook and tossing it aside you decided to relieve this aching stress that invaded your mind but also the lingering ache between your legs.
You rid yourself of your clothing only remaining in your cropped tank and underwear.
Positioning your pillow between your legs in which your body hovered over you made onto your pillow searing yourself upon it.
Arching your back and you rocked your hips back and forth onto the wrinkled textured fabric of the pillow. The lacy panties you were currently wearing added to the ecstasy. Following the flow of movement adding friction and pressure to your needy clit.
“mhhpp, fuck” gasping out while you retracted your head back then forward.
The layered front strands of your mid length hair covered your face due the continuous movement of your head. Tucking them back behind your ear once again.
“j-jungkook! s’good, feels so good…” you desperate whined as you chased your high.
Gripping onto the pillow leaving your knuckles white due to the pressure of squeezing while leaning forward.
Your pillowy nipples lacked attention, your fingers latched onto the buds from the outside of your tank. You weren’t wearing a bra so the thin shirt was the only separation between your calloused fingers and hardened buds.
Getting rid of your shirt and panties you were bare entirely. Your only audience being the plushies corner of your bed watching the show you gave them.
Is what you thought, too oblivious and deep into your own world to have heard the sound of the car pulling up into the drive way, to have heard the sound of the front door opening and footsteps. To have noticed the presence of the same man whose name you constantly let slip past your moaning lips watching you reach your high on your pillow at the thought of him.
He watched your ass jiggle at the rapid movement of your hips, along with the movement of your breasts The way your face contorted into an expression of pleasure with your teeth biting onto the plump of your lips. The sight in front of him had his length twitching in the gray sweats he changed into before leaving the gym.
“g’na cum, please let me cum…fuck jungkook need it so bad!” you desperately expressed.
At the final rock of your hips you released, a shivering orgasm causing you to rip a pitched whine.
The movement of your hips lessened as you rode out your orgasm. Tired and worn out after that workout your head began to wander off.
Until.
“Quite the performance you showed off there” your heart dropped
There he was. The same man that you’d been rubbing your pussy against your pillow at the thought of watched you get off.
“Jungkook!” you wanted the ground to swallow you whole at this very moment.
Quickly grabbing into your discarded clothing at an attempt to cover your bare body. Unaware of what to say in explanation to the presence in front of you.
“I-I…”
No words could come out or your mouth as you watched Jungkook walk towards you with a darkened expression.
Removing the piece of clothing from your grip at attempt of concealing yourself. His eyes remained at your bare figure. Tempted at the sight of your hardened nipples, goosebumps covered your skin.
“Fucking hell, look at you. Getting off to the thought of me? You’re so damn cute…”
The eye contact made you aware of the glint in his eyes, a message he was trying to convey.
“Jungkook?” you quietly questioned
“You gonna let me do what I want with you, hm? Is that what you want?”
Your eyes remaining in contact with his glistening ones, you nod your head in response.
That was all it took from jungkook to commect your lips with his. Hungrily capturing your mouth, sloppily stuffing his tongue down your throat causing him to groan and you to whimper at his roughness.
“Open your legs, baby. Show me how wet your pussy is”, you obeyed and showed him your glistening folds lathered in your cum.
Taking his tattooed hand and gathering the substance on his fingers he brought them to his mouth. The taste of your discharge coated his tongue as he cleaned it from his fingers.
“Fuck, you’re as sweet as your nickname. You sure live up to it”, he said as he continue to lick clean his slick coated fingers.
Your fingers inched towards the hem of his sweats, encircling the strands of the waistline.
“What is it you want, sweets?
“You.”
“Take me out, baby” fuck, that practically confirmed to you he was hiding a big package under there.
Lowering his sweats his hardened cock sprung free from the confided layer of fabric.
Taking his length in your palm toward your warm mouth to lubricate it with your saliva. Jerking him off in a up and down motion earning you grunts and groans from him.
“Just like that, fuck…keep doing that n I’ll cum” he gritted out.
Pushing you onto the soft surface of the bed you watched as he removed his clothing. You admired his muscular physique, the gym really did pay off.
“Are you really sure about this?”
“Yes, I’m sure” confirming.
“Condom?”
“It’s okay I’m on an IUD, I’ll take an after pill tomorrow”, reassuring him
He hovered over your body, hiding in the crevice of your neck to leave a few pecks while aligning his length to your heat.
Your chest heaved deeply as you exhaled, the slight burn of his size rubbing toward your tight walls ignited pleasure.
“mhpm! j-jungkook..” wrapped arms on his back as he thrusted in you, increasing the pace as you let out more moans and whimpers.
“I know, baby…ya’ feel so good, so warm n’ tight”, he cooed.
At sudden movement his arms then wrapped around your thighs hoisting you up while the relentless abuse to your cunt never stopped.
“Ahh! f-fuck! Jungkook!”, Now in the standing missionary position, he was in deeper than you’ve ever experienced. The motion of his hips thrusting at an unforgivable pace, all that was heard was the sound of his balls smacking against your sopping pussy filling the entire room.
“shit, m’ gonna cum”
“m-me too..” your climax right on the edge.
With that both of you reached your highs, his thrusts began slowing down to ride out the climax. Both the mixture of your cum riding from his abdomen down his leg.
Laying you down on the soft surface of your bed with his cock still soft in you. Enjoying each other’s company as you laid in his embrace.
“Jungkook, are you gonna tell?” you innocently say with genuine concern written on your face.
“Now why would I do that? I’ve been waiting for this moment for quite a long while now. Why? Do you not want this?”
“No, I do! But when you say you’ve been waiting for this moment for quite a while now, what outcome do you expect to come from this? Taehyung will find out sooner or later and it’ll get messy.” your questioned further anticipated his response.
He let out a sigh, “you see sweets, I’ve envisioned this moment to occur, I’ve gotten off at the thought of you just like you showed off earlier. I want you just as bad….” he admits.
“I don’t see you as just my best friends younger sister, I see you as much more”
“Jungkook?” fuck, he’s worried. What if the feelings are mutual as what he initially believed they were? What if we only meant it to be a quick fuck?
“Hm?” Oh well.
“I see you as much more too”, you don’t know where this sudden burst of confidence came out but this weight you’ve been carrying has been lifted after your confession, you feel more at ease.
Both your gazes locked in with one another. Both leaning into each other as your mouths then mounded into one.
The kiss was deep and passionate, although you both have confessed your mutual feelings for each other, there’s something different about it. Feeling more as acceptance and comfort.
“The things you do to me y/n, you don’t get it”.
“You’re mine, all mine”
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Pt 2?
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prettyboykatsuki · 5 months ago
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ANOTHER WORD FOR HOMESICK (I WANT TO SAY YOUR NAME AGAIN) | M. BACHIRA
☼ tags ; omegaverse, afab + fem!omega!!reader, alpha!bachira, childhood friends to lovers, established reader backstory, coming-of-age, romance, mutual pining, implicit sexual content (virginity loss to an oc), explicit sexual content ft. bonding, knotting, penetration, oral (f!recieving), fingering, praise, lovey dovey dirty talk, petnames (mostly baby) 18+
++ notes: readers appearance is mostly non-descript but they are shorter than bachira and have several piercings and a tattoo which are explained in story.
☼ content warnings ; lore applicable sexism, sexual harassment of reader as a minor (details in authors note, explained further in extended authors note), lore applicable homophobia, implied bisexuality + referenced mutual queerness queerness, underage drinking, heat / estrus as a symptom of puberty
please thoroughly read content warnings and tags before clicking read more.
THIS IS PART ONE. CLICK HERE TO HERE PART TWO.
☼ ao3 link | extended authors note | fics for gaza
☼ wc ; 16.4k / 33.2k
☼ a/n ; sorry for the incredibly long wait. as always i got extremely carried away. but cheers for fujoneet reader coming after this! written as part of the @ficsforgaza intiative
as mentioned above, there is a scene in this part of the fic that has reader experiencing their first heat as a minor omega during their heat.
they are being sexually harassed underage. if you find this content may be too triggering to you - the scene starts at the the [ THIRTEEN ] subheader and ends indicated with ***.
☼ synopsis ; you can't decide on how you feel about alphas, but your resentment or discomfort around them grows stronger over time as an omega who presented particularly young
maybe that's why you feel so devastated upon hearing the news that bachira, your childhood best friend, had been hiding his alpha status from you your whole life.
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PART ONE: MAY THE BRIDGES I HAVE BURNED..
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[ NINE]  
A car speeds past you when you turn the corner. Too fast, you watch it skid to a stop at a red light and feel your face grow flush. You tuck your chin into the collar of your coat, cold numbing your senses.  
The mailman is at your door by the time you walk home. He smiles courteously and hands you the mail directly when you approach your front gate. You bow to him politely before taking it, the cold making your eyes water.  
“I haven’t seen you in a while,” He says. Nakamura oji-chan has been running mail to this route since you were a little baby. Mama said he has a grandchild now so he works less hours. You’re glad to see him. “You’ve grown so big. What year are you in now?”  
You hold up four fingers. “Fourth year. I’m nine,”  
“You’re growing up well, then huh? That’s good.”  
You’re not tall enough to reach the kitchen cabinets at the highest height and still losing baby teeth but other than that you think it’s pretty okay, so you nod. He laughs before turning to leave, and you make sure to stand in front of the door before he goes to be polite. 
You shuffle through the mail as you walk inside. Warm air makes your face tingle. There’s two letters for you today. They’re addressed to your parents, but they’ve got your name on them so you think it’s okay to call them yours. One letter is from the hospital, but there’s another one too.  
You don’t know what it is. It’s in a separate black envelope with a raised seal along and government postage. There’s some stuff for nii-chan and mama - plus some coupons that papa gets from a subscription service.  
You announce yourself loudly once you’ve looked through it all. Only papa’s brown shoes are in the rack which means he’s the only one home.  
 Slipping your shoes off, you slide your feet into brand new Doraemon slippers and prop your bag up against the couch in the living room before finally hanging up your coat. Your tummy rumbles after you regain feeling in your fingers, and you decide the nap can be pushed back till after snack time making your way towards the kitchen.  
You make sure to take the mail with you. Mama always tell you to leave it on the counter so she can take a look when she’s home. You’re good at remembering this.  
Papa is working at the dining table when you come in. He works on a fancy computer from home some days. He smiles when he sees you, bright eyes pointed toward you. You decide to hand him the mail directly.  
“Hey, sweetie.” His smile is soft. Ripe oranges sit for you on the counter, cut evenly on your favorite plate. Papa nudges them towards you with a smile. Quickly, you run to wash your hands and sit adjacent to him upon return. You start snacking on your oranges, wondering if he sliced them for you or just to eat. You sit folded up in the dining room chair as papa pats your head per routine. “How was school?”  
You look down. “It was okay. We learned about praying mantis bugs. My friends thought they were scary but I thought they were cool, at least a little…” 
Papa sits and waits for you to say more expectantly. You shrug, unable to think of anything more to say.  
“They are, aren’t they? They’re really important to our eco-system.” Papa says. You nod. He starts to explain more to you about praying mantis bugs and you do your best to listen even as you feel your eyelids start to droop. You get sleepy early in winter because it’s dark so fast.  
Even though you’re not listening too closely, you notice papa stops talking half-way through a sentence. You peek at him through your lashes. He’s holding the special envelope from before. Papa is very quiet when he reads it.  
“What’re you reading?”  
His eyes go wide. You wonder if papa is also tired, since he seems so surprised you’re there. His brows are furrow - putting the letter face down on the dining room table. He’s silent for a long time, though you don’t fuss to ask again. 
“We got some important news in the mail,” Papa says quietly. He seems a little different somehow. “We’ll sit down when and talk about it when mama gets home, okay?”  
“Am I in trouble?”  
He smiles at you like normal this time but he still seems a little sad. “Not at all sweetheart. It’s just an important talk so I think we should be all together. Is that okay?”  
“Yeah, that makes sense.” You tell him, looking down at your lap trying to figure out what to say so he stops seeming sad. “It’ll be okay, papa.”  
Briefly surprised, he smiles again, using his hand on your face to pull you close to him wet kiss on your temple that you take in stride. You’re glad he seems to feel better. 
“That’s right, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”  
When mama comes home, her and papa sit and talk for a long time in the kitchen. They send you to nii-chans room. Predictably, he turns you away when you knock on his door and goes down to complain to your parents. You think that whatever happened must be more serious than you thought, since he comes back up and lets you sit in his room without complain upon return. 
 Nii-chan rarely invites you to do things with him by yourself, so you’re surprised when he invites you to his lap so you can watch him play games.  
Mama always says he’s just going through a phase when he’s being mean. You think that makes sense. You’re happy when he’s nice, though.  
After a while, papa comes to get you. Him and nii-chan talk in whispers about something and take not-so-subtle glances.  
Papa starts to explain a little to you as you go down stairs, holding his hand. He squeezes it tighter than normal. 
“Do you know what an omega is, sweetheart?”  
 You nod. You’ve got a vague understanding at least. Nii-chan is an alpha, papa is an omega and mama is a beta. It was hard for mama and papa to have you, so they consider you both miracles.  
“Well, today, we got news about what you are,” Papa says. He tries to smile. “And you’re an omega like me.’ 
“Oh,” You say. You look up at him as you walk down the stairs. “Is that bad?”  
He shakes his head when you ask, but strangely doesn’t end up saying no directly.  
__  
After you find out you’re an omega, nii-chan walks you to school for a few weeks.  
You find this to be very strange for several reasons.  
For one, nii-chan doesn’t really like school and he doesn’t seem to like spending time with you either. He started going this year, you think - something mama had said about getting his life sorted. Either way, he clearly doesn’t want to be going at all.  
So, it doesn’t make sense when he starts accompanying you even a little. 
“I can walk to school by myself,” You say, not really meaning anything by it. He stares down at you. You aren’t sure why he’s so mad. Nii-chan always seems a litle bit mad at everything. You wonder if all alphas are like that.  
“Don’t be annoying,” He says, harsh. You bite your tongue and turn your gaze to the sidewalk under your feet.  
“I’m not being annoying,” You clutch the straps of your bag, because you’re not. He’s the one who suddenly decided to walk you, which makes him the more annoying one. Plus, he’s always causing trouble at home anyway, not you. 
“Didn’t they explain to you that you’re an omega?”  
You look up at him confused wondering why it matters. He stares at you for a long time, and even gets angry again before scratching the back of his neck. His hand comes down to the top of your head and you flinch, expecting him to mess your hair up but he pats it instead.  
“Stupid brat,” He sighs after that. You huff but try not to let it show. “Worry about yourself and shut up.”  
__  
[ TEN ] 
 There’s a playground near your house that’s a few minutes walk. It has a rusty swing set but a nice slide. Most importantly, there’s a patch of concrete you can jump rope and draw on. You like going there most of all with Miki-chan. Not today though. Miki-chan is out of town to visit her granny in Osaka. 
Nii-chan offered to take you but you usually refuse him. It’s not to be mean, but just because doing things with nii-chan always makes you a little sad.  
He’s moved from home now, but you still feel weird when you see him since he hasn’t liked you all this time. Mama tells you not to hold it against him - and that you’ll understand him better when you’re older. You hope that’s true. You try not to hold it against him.  
But it doesn’t mean you want him with you at the park.  
(You feel especially dejected when nii-chan acts cold to you but you can’t be sure why. Papa says it probably has something to do with your hormones, since nii-chan is an alpha. Something about packbonding. You don’t quite get it.  
It’s starting to feel like every problem you have is because of being an omega, but you try to keep that thought to yourself so you don’t make papa sad.)  
You bring your jump ropes and chalk along with you. The sky is half-blue, half-grey. You wonder if it might rain on your way there or if it’ll be blue and warm all over by then. You like the rain, but you’d prefer sunshine today so you can draw with chalk.  
You think of things to do. You’ll sit on the swings first then jump rope, thenn draw. Or maybe it will rain and you’ll have to run home. You hope you didn’t jinx yourself.  
Your neighborhood is small so you know the names and faces of all the kids there. Even the little ones who are in the grades beneath yours. Mama tells you it’s important to know your neighbors. You aren’t really trying to remember for that reason, though. It’s more like it bugs you not to know. You’re always like that.  
Papa uses the word meticulous to describe you. Meh-tick-you-lus. It’s easy to say but hard to spell. 
 (Nii-chan says you’re just acting like an omega when you do things like that. This makes your parents upset, especially papa. You never take nii-chan seriously when he complains though. He complains about everything.)   
When you arrive at the playground, there’s a boy on the grass playing with a soccer ball by himself. You’ve never seen him before. He’s got big wide-eyes and a shock of yellow hair underneath which is super cool. His hair is long, just a little shorter than yours and he even has bangs. You wonder if he’s an omega too, since you’ve only seen omega boys be that pretty.  
Your heart beat fasts. It’d be nice to make a new friend, though you’re a bit unsure what to say. You’re a little nervous to approach him but you reason it’d be stranger not to.  
“Hi,” 
The boy stops playing with his ball, doing a trick to kick it up into his hands. He’s cool. Or at least very interesting. His eyes are bright, dark brown with a touch of yellow like his hair. You wonder if grows like that or if he’s allowed to dye it. He stares at you for a long time wordlessly. You shift your weight on your feet. 
“Hi,” He says back.  
You smile.  
“What’s your name?”  
“Bachira,”  
He asks for yours and return and you give it to him.  
“How old are you?”  
“I’m ten,”  
“Really? Me too,”  
“Do you know how to play soccer?”  
You shake your head. “My nii-chan plays it sometimes at his school, but I dunno how. I prefer jump rope. I can do some tricks with a jump rope.”  
He lights up when you mention your nii-chan plays soccer, eager to ask you about it. “Is he good at it?”  
“I think so,” You reply honestly. You ended up going to a lot of games when you were little. He used to practice lots in your backyard too and stayed after school. The memory makes you a little sad “He wanted to play it more but he got hurt. We went to a lot of matches when I was a baby. He has some trophies and stuff.”  
“That’s so cool,” Bachira gushes. You shrug because you don’t really feel like agreeing. “Do you think he would play soccer with me?”  
You shake your head dejectedly, eyes cast to the ground. “Probably not. He barely plays with me so I don’t think he’d play with you.”  
You feel a little bad telling him that given he seems so excited, but it’s true. Soccer or not. It’d also be a little unfair if he played with Bachira, you think. Bachira visibly deflates.  
“Oh,”  
“It’s okay. I don’t think I’d be good at soccer but you can tell me about it.” You say, because Bachira seems fun to be around. He doesn’t seem interested but you go on. “The thing you did with your ball earlier was cool.”  
He lights up again and you smile softly. “Really? I know a lot of other tricks, too. I’ll show them to you!”  
You nod. “Okay. I’m gonna draw on the concrete while you play.”  
You sit on the nearby patch of concrete and set your jump rope besides you as you open up your box of chalk - all brand new. You came in deciding to draw a cat or bunny, but decide to draw a soccer ball as a peace offering to your new companion.  
“Okay! But you have to look up when I tell you or you’ll miss my tricks.”  
“Sure,” You tell him.  
As soon as you sit down down to draw, Bachira starts talking a mile a minute about soccer. He took your words to heart it seems like. You think he must really like soccer, maybe even more than you like jump rope and you really like jump rope. But you don’t mind listening to Bachira talk. He kind of reminds you of Miki-chan, who also talks a lot. It’s good since you prefer not to talk much.  
“So the tricks and cool stuff you do with your feet is called dribbling?” 
He brightens at the fact you put it together without him saying “Yeah!” following it up with “You’re really nice.”  
Your brows raise in surprise as you shake your head. Embarrassed, you direct your gaze down towards your lap.  
“Not really. I’m just normal.”  
He doesn’t say anything else, just grins as he keeps going. You decide to keep drawing instead of talking, listening to Bachira ramble. He tells you to draw for a while he practices his tricks, so he can show you the best ones and you agree without any hassle.  
You look through your plastic box of chalk, smiling as you choose a color. You decide to draw with dandelion yellow.  
__  
Bachira brings you home to meet his mom after he runs out of tricks to show you.  
On the way there, he tells you more about her and himself. She’s his only parent, and she makes art so he thinks you’d like meeting her. Mama usually tells you not to follow strangers, but Bachira doesn’t feel like a stranger. He’s your friend and you find you really like him.  
When you get there, Bachira’s mom seems very happy to meet you. She’s pretty and smells like paint. She asks you if you know your parents numbers, since they might be worried about you disappearing and you give it to her, even though you know you’ll get scolded.  
It takes mama and papa twenty minutes to come over. Mama scolds you about doing something dangerous by yourself. You tell her it wasn’t dangerous because you were with Bachira and you really like Bachira.  
They don’t scold you again after you say it. 
__  
(Bachira becomes apart of your daily life as easy as breathing. Despite going to different schools, you always walk to and from school together after meeting. You’re close friends, maybe even closer than you and Miki-chan who you’ve known since you were a baby.  
Bachira always comes to pick you up anyway, and you walk home from school together every single day. He always has one hundred things to tell you but you like to listen to each and every one. You like how much Bachira has to say about everything.  
On the way home, you play rock-paper-scissors on who’s house to go to. You like it best when Bachira comes over, but if nii-chan is home, you normally go over to his. Sometimes, you wish you went to the same school. Being with Bachira is always fun.  
It’d be nice if you could be together all the time. You think if you were always with him, you’d never be bored. You wonder if it’s too much to hope Bachira feels the same. ) 
__ 
“So, you’re an omega?”  
Bachira and you are playing in the yard today. Your room is getting renovated. According to otou-san, it should’ve been done a while ago to accommodate your nests but it’s getting done now instead. You’re in the backyard with a book, staring up at him as he joins you under the shade. It’s the end of summer break and everything is too hot.  
You look at him. “Uh-huh. Otou-san is too.”  
He stares at you for a long time before joining you in the grass. You feel weirdly self-conscious of the space he occupies next to you. You’ll be eleven soon enough. Bachira drapes his head in your lap as you sit, staring up at you. You don’t bother moving him. He’s always like that.  
He puts his hands up and shades his face from the sun. His eyes glow yellow gold just like always.  
“Does that mean you like alphas?”  
The question is embarrassing somehow. Makes you feel weird because you can’t answer right away. You cast your gaze away and shrug, pretending to read your book but finding it hard to focus with Bachira’s eyes on you.  
You read in a book that alpha and omegas fall in love most naturally. Sometimes they like betas. But you’ve always felt sure you like omegas, and you don’t want to lie to Bachira so you don’t.  
“I don’t know,” You say truthfully. “I’m supposed too,”  
“But do you?”  
You can’t answer him right away. You scrunch your nose and think of nii-san, the only alpha you know personally. The idea of dating someone with any similarities to him troubles you, even though you know he’s not a bad guy. You shake your head.  
“I don’t know. Alphas are too much,” You say after some time. That feels like the right choice. Sometimes, you see older kids and alphas and they all feel that way. “And they’re scary.”  
“Then what about omegas?”  
That feels easy to answer. Bachira stares at you intently and you flush, turning away and covering your face with your hand. “I like them…they’re pretty and smell nice.”  
“Hm,” Bachira says. His expression is hard to read. You make a face at him, head tilted asking the same thing. “I think I might like alphas. I dunno though. I don’t know what I am,”  
A pang of disappointment makes your chest ache but you bury it and smile at him. Just barely, corners of your lips lightly upturned. “That means we’re opposite.”  
“But in a way it means we fit together right?” Bachira says, same as usual. Expectant. Content. Like it’s not a big deal at all. You nod and cast your gaze down to your lap again.  
“Yeah. Right.”  
__  
[ ELEVEN ]  
Fifth year students have special lessons for secondary sexes, before a secondary health examination.  
In your fourth year, you learned about the characteristics of your primary sex which is most important for betas. Most people are betas, so you guess it makes sense they spend so much more time about it. Still, it’s a little surprising how little your teacher really discusses…anything at all.  
You try to pay attention to the lesson but keep tuning out, finding it boring and most of all - not very useful. Otou-san had this conversation with you already. It’s not anything new.  
You don’t mean to sound like a know-it-all of course, but with the way otou-san quizzes you on it, you’re pretty sure you know more than most of your classmates and maybe even your teacher. 
You find your teacher leaves out a lot of important details about alphas and omegas, though you don’t feel you can or should correct her. During your lesson, you start to understand why Otou-san insisted on making you learn at home.  
Reflecting on it, you think being an omega is a hassle. Sometimes it seems scary. Most times though, it just feels inconvenient. When people find it out about you, they always act like they know you. But they only know you’re an omega, so you doubt that’s true.  
 Your first heat hasn’t come yet since you’re on lots of medicines but you get all the same growing pains. New, tiny fangs are already forming in your mouth and your scent is stronger than most kids your age. Your body is already changing, growing and you have to get more check-ups than other people.  
 Okaa-san says that’s normal. That you’re normal. But it doesn’t really feel that way. You notice otou-san never uses the word normal, only says that you’re perfectly healthy. 
 You wonder if it’s something so strange that you’re teacher can’t discuss it. If your disposition is something so offputting. Omega’s are uncommon but not unheard of, right? So why does everyone seem so hush-hush?  
You don’t know how to explain the feeling. It’s lonely. People know you’re an omega, but you don’t even know what that means. Don’t know what it means to feel like an omega either. But supposedly it dictates so much of your life.  
You keep yourself from sighing as to not disturb your class. The led of your pencil snaps from pressure as you write in your work-book.  
__  
[ TWELVE ]  
You return to the classroom early after health examinations.  
It’s the start of the sixth year of your elementary. Most people are finding out their secondary sex for the first time today, but since you already know yours - you’re given a pass to go back and read quietly in the classroom until it’s over. Some people have already developed with strong, obvious scents but getting the official results require a medical check up.  
You want to linger a little more so you can talk with all of your classmates but your P.E. teacher shoos you out of the room before long.  
After you change out of your gym clothes and back into your uniform, you traverse down the hall and take the long way back. It’s April. The sun is out, peeking through the leaves as warm shades of spring bloom outside your schools windows.  
The hallway is unusually quiet. You try to keep your steps light so the hall monitor doesn’t write you up for making noise and causing a disturbance.  
You haven’t been able to shake the strange feeling since morning. Such an important day, met with anticipation - but you exist entirely outside of it. You almost feel noting towards it at all.  
You’ve known you were an omega for nearly three years now and you’ve already heard rumors about you in relation.  
It is isn’t all that important to you. But it is, at the same time since it seems important to other people.  
Maybe it’s because you already know yours, but it makes you kind of uncomfortable to hear how your classmates talk about it.  
You’ve never liked talking about being an omega, even though it’s not a secret. You pretend not to hear them when you’re in earshot but you always do.  
Omegas are weaker, more annoying, too emotional. The only thing they have is attracting alphas, and most people want an alpha to take care of them. Alphas are bound to be successful, and they’re good at sports. It’s great that they have easier chances of seducing them and betas, too. They’re easy and weak so naturally an alpha will want to take care of them.  
You’re used to hearing it, and rarely bother to correct them no matter how wrong they are. Sometimes, you want to point out to them you’re one of those things at all - but then, you wonder if that makes you weak and emotional so you never do. You’re not weak, nor annoying, and you rarely show your feelings to anyone.  
You can’t make sense of whats expected of you and why your classmates laugh you off when you mention you like omegas, either. You’ve always preferred omegas and their company. They’re comfortable, understanding, easy to be with and smell nice.  
There’s something exhausting about the idea you need to be with an alpha. All of it is tiresome. You can’t help but get the impression that from here on, it’ll only get harder to deal with and you don’t want that. You don’t want it to matter. You just want to be yourself.  
Lost in thought, you arrive at the classroom. One of your friends seems to have arrived at the same time. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of her.  
Akemi-chan is one of your good friends. She’s beautiful. She has long, straight hair and cut-across bangs and always smiles. There’s a mole under her eye and her scent is ripe and summery like peaches. She smiles when she sees you.  
She’s so pretty and she stands to close to you - an arm around your waist with a comfortable laugh.  
“Guess what!”  
“Did you find out your secondary sex?”  
She grins, brightening several degrees. “I’m an omega. And,” Her voice drops suddenly. “Chiyo-san is an alpha!”  
“Ah,” Your voice drops.“Did you like Chiyo-san?”  
She nods. “Now that I know she’s an alpha, I like her more, I guess?” 
You try not to look sad, and try to quiet your heartbeat at the way she shows you affection she wouldn’t had you not both been omegas. She doesn’t pull away from you despite knowing you like omegas, so you still feel grateful. Akemi draws her cheek against yours gently. Scents you in the way friends do with her wrists.  
You nod listen to her. The listless melancholy of whats forward draws your attention outside.  
You notice storm clouds coming in as Akemi looks alongside you. It feels different.  
It feels a little too early in spring for such stormy rain.  
__  
“I didn’t get the results of my secondary sex exam,”  
You’re on your way home back from school when Bachira blurts this out to you. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise, turning to look at him so you can understand his feelings better. Given how quiet Bachira’s been today - you figured something was wrong.  
You look at him, unsure of what to make of it.  
“Does that bother you?”  
Your question surprises him in return. It’s not unheard for people to present later. It manifests in everyone eventually, even betas. You don’t remember all the terminology though it has something to do with a specific hormone.  
Bachira thinks on your question before looking down at his shoes. He shrugs. “Mm. Dunno. Guess it just makes me feel even more different.”  
You think about what Bachira seems to go through at school and feel your heart tug. That makes sense you think.  
You shake your head, with new and sudden resolve. “I think it’s fine. It kinda makes sense. I got mine early so you get yours late. We’re always like that, right?”  
You hope the attempt to comfort him reaches him. When you look over and see him smiling, you feel unimaginable relief. The world feels more colorful when Bachira smiles. He pauses in the middle of the street, throwing an arm around your neck with a grin that feels like himself again. 
“Yeah. Right.”  
__  
[ THIRTEEN ]  
You can’t tell it’s your heat right away.  
 A fever breaks along your skin in a cramped train car. sweat clinging to your skin underneath your middle school uniform, a heat rash making your whole body itch. The noise around you becomes static, cottony as your heart starts thudding against your ribs.  
Your ears are ringing. Time slows down around you as the speed of the subway seems to double underneath your feet. Your knees buckle as you try and hold yourself upright as the intense and unfamilar feeling of desire violates your senses. Too intense for your body. It doesn’t feel like you. You’re not in your right mind.  
 It’s too early. Most people’s heats don’t come for another year or two at least. You feel so unlucky as the pain flares, mixed with something burning between your legs.  
You try to focus your thoughts elsewhere. You take the same train home every single day at the same time. Plenty of students take it, but clubs keep you later than most. 
Bachira often comes with you just like he has today, so you focus on him. His middle school is a short-distance from yours so you try and walk home together when you can. A small promise that means the world to you. If you can’t go the full way, you always meet up at the intersection and walk the short distance together instead.   
You focus on Bachira as he stands next to you. He’s watching a game of soccer on his new phone, turned sideways with a single headphone in. You watch it over his shoulder. You try too. Your skin scorches, hot like something crash-landing through the atmosphere as a tension grows between your legs. Sweat breaks out around your collar and the small of your spine. You feel out of your body - floating just outside of it. Your neck throbs, scent glands suddenly aching. Both wrist and neck, all of you—aching.  
You can barely make any sense of your surroundings anymore. Your breathing is erratic as you grip onto the metal pole tight and try to make sense of your surroundings. You want to hold out until you can get to a stall. You’ve had a plan for this for as long as you can remember.  
You just need to keep it together until the train stops.  
There’s a man behind you. You don’t notice him until you do. You’re still wearing your uniform - short skirt rolled up to combat the heat of the season. A calloused hand reaches underneath the fabric. You think it’s an accident until it sticks between your inner thigh. It slides up slowly, getting closer to where it shouldn’t be. Your breath hitches. You shiver. Your body is hot.  
“Are you an omega?” An older man, the one behind you murmurs. His voice is crass, grating and dark against your skin. Your stomach twists with fear as your gaze freezes you into place. Unable to find your voice as he touches you, you try not to recoil. Disgusted at your body reacts to the involuntary arousal that spikes in result of it. He’s an alpha. The acrid, overbearing nausea of an alphas scent drives itself into your center like a stake. You hate it so much it’s unbearable but every is so hot.  
You have no control. Over anything. You’re terrified and barely there.  
Fear makes you jump. Your conscious mind slowly loses its grip as you feel your skin dampen with increasing heat, skull throbbing. Your heat is coming and it’s coming fast. You breathe heavily in a pant, trying to ignore the sensation. Trying to ignore everything, just to drown out the oppressive scent of alpha invading your lungs as you tuck your chin.  
“You’re a little young to be presenting like this. Having your heat on a train like this,” His voice weighs down on you oppresively. Your heart is so loud, clamoring noisily behind your ears as tears prick at your eyes. His hands go further and further and you flinch. Brushing where you don’t want to be touched you jolt.  
our jolting makes Bachira look up from his phone.  
“Are you trying to tempt an alpha?” 
You’re not very conscious. You’re disgusted. You know this is normal but it feels wrong. You feel wrong. The horror is grounding in it’s own right. Fog clouds your mind, makes your senses sharp. You feel split at the seams. Fighting with your own consciousness, you can’t think of anything except trying to suppress your instincts. But it’s painful, so painful - and something sticky is running down your legs. It’s not you, it’s your body. It’s violating.  
Your instincts want an alpha. Your body wants something you can’t understand to the point it aches inside of you, aches between your legs and makes you want to throw up. 
Before the man behind you can get any further, your shaken awake by the sound of him practically shrieking. Bachira appears in the corners of your vision.  
You’ve never seen him so angry.  
You can see his hand reaching behind you. Your eyes gloss over as you stare at Bachira. The hand touching you is gone and you feel immediate comfort. You ground yourself in the warmth of his eyes. You try to find his face amidst your tears. 
“Bachira-kun,” Your voice is a whimper. You tuck your head against his shoulder. “I’m scared, I’m so scared, it hurts,”  
He stiffens and then his voice comes. It’s soothing, sounds just like him. High and soft. He hums a lullaby to you like nothings wrong. When his hand rests on your lower back, it doesn’t make you feel like crawling out of your own skin.  
“It’s okay,” He whispers. “It’s safe. You’re safe. I’ll protect you, promise.”  
It’s weird to see him this calm. The loud Bachira you know is never so poised, but he holds you steady. You whimper as he pushes you against his scent glands. He smells sweet. You huff it involuntarily. Bachira doesn’t tell you to stop.  
When the train comes to a slow, you let him move you through the station and take you to the bathroom. Your knees are weak. He’s not the type to worry but you’ve made him so concerned.  
He opens a stall and sets you gently on the toilet. The cool linoleum sobers you enough to look at Bachira. His worry, his concern, his care. You whimper.  
“Hug me,” You practically beg. He hesitates, clicking himself into the stall alongside you as you let yourself drape around his waist. It’s not very different from how you usually are, is it? Bachira is always so affectionate, yet it feels so different.  
 He rubs the scent glands on his wrist on your neck.  
Above you, Bachira is on his phone. Your brain is too hazy to make the details, but you think you hear your fathers voice on the other side of the line.  
“Ji-chan will be here soon,” Bachira says. You clutch the back of Bachira’s uniform. It’s the first time he’s ever felt so broad. “Don’t worry.”  
“Meguru. Thank you,” You say in a half-sob.  
“Anytime,” He says, his voice small and high and so familiar. “I’ll always protect you. Promise. No alpha will touch you again.” 
*** 
__  
The reality of your first heat should be what you expect. You know these things happen. Otou-san has told you to be cautious everywhere you go for the last four years without fail. 
 But when it happens to you, it’s the first time you feel resentful about your secondary sex. Anger towards your body first, for not being able to control itself. Angry at the world next, for making you feel as if it’s your fault.  
You grow averse to alphas in the after math. You try not to be. You try not to let your discomfort show and try not to become the sort of person who makes judgements on secondary sex  - but for a long time, just the thought of being around them makes your bones chill.  
The only thing that keeps you from being all negative is Bachira. His anger for you when discussing that day is enough to ease the burden. Bachira bears your hurt like its his.  
You start calling Bachira, Meguru when you call him after he stays with you during your heat. It’s the last bridge of closeness to cross - the last barrier between you. He calls you by your first name too, sometimes a nickname if the mood suits him.  
You find yourself so thankful to be his friend some days it makes you want to cry.  
You find yourself even more grateful when he tells you he’s an omega. It comforts you. You think, he’s too good to be an alpha and too goo to be with one but you never tell him. It’ll happens someday and you think you’ll be sad.  
But for now, you’re happy being by his side a little while longer.  
__  
[ FOURTEEN ] 
Miki-chan invites you to celebrate her fourteenth birthday with a visit to the mall.  
There’s a huge mall a little over half an hour away from Chiba that she’s been dying to visit since forever agp. Her nee-san takes all of you in her nice car, even letting you spend money on her card within reason. She’s a lot older than all of you, twice your age with a big girl job in Tokyo. She’s stylish and kind and always has fun nail designs because she works for a famous fashion magazine.  
Otou-san has also given you an excessive amount of pocket money after you told him about your day-trip. You really weren’t planning on getting anything, but you’re glad to have something in case Bachira wants to make a purchase.  
You’re stopped in for frozen yogurt, following Bachira as Miki-chan and another mutual friend, Sasaki-san wait for you to come up front. You watch amusedly as Bachira piles his frozen yogurt with more toppings. You’re pretty sure he’s not even going to finish it.  
You peer at his cup from over his shoulder, watching him pile gummy bears onto his already loaded cup of frozen yogurt, wrinkling your nose in distaste.  
“What flavor of froyo did you get this time?”  
“Sea salt chocolate. For balance,” He says, dead seriously.  
You smile involuntarily before brushing past him, spooning yogurt chips into your own cup. You get different things depending on your mood but always keep it simple. Since it’s hot and humid, you’re getting a coconut flavor with shaving, yogurt chips, fruit and strawberry sauce and sprinkles for good measure.  
“You’re too much,” You move past him and wait for him to finish up at the counter. “But if you’re happy,”  
“I’m always very happy. I have no place for sadness!” Bachira replies.  
You give him another crooked smile, turning to where Miki and Sasaki are chatting.  
“I’ll pay for Meguru-kun,” You announce. His frown is instant. 
“Eh? No way, I brought money though? That’s why I put so much stuff,”  
He’s pouting. You wonder if all omega boys are that cute naturally or if it’s just Bachira.   
“Buy something with it later.”  
He pouts, swallowing his complaint as he knows it’ll fall on deaf ears.  
“Fine,” He huffs, placing his alongside yours on the weight. The cashier gives you two a knowing smile that you miss as she rings up, sticking a color-changing spoon in each before passing it back along with your change. “I’ll get you back for this.”  
You don’t say anything as you watch the weight counter.  
“Over one thousand yen…. you’re such a glutton,”  
“I’ll split it with you as thanks,”  
You make a face of disgust that makes him cackle as you both sit down and join your other friends. Bachira drags his chair to sit as close to you as possible, fully inserting himself into your personal space per usual. You eat a spoonful of your frozen yogurt, unconcerned. Sasaki stares at you for a bit. Your eyes meet and you tilt your head in confusion but she turns away.  
“Miki-chan, is there anything else you want to look for?”  
“New shoes, maybe.” 
You glance at her then shake your head. “Pick something else.”  
“…Okay. Thank you in advance, I guess,” Miki-says with a laugh. You smile a little.  
You look over at Bachira who’s very enraptured in his fro-yo.. You lick your thumb as reach over and wipe the corners of his mouth - stained with chocolate.  
“You eat like a kid,” Fondness unmistakable in your voice.  
He shakes his head sagely. “Eating something delicious is supposed to make you eat like a kid, you know? And we are kids. This is what it means to be free citizens of the world! Of this great nation!”  
“Uh-huh. I’ll take your word for it, but clean your mouth at least.”  
Bachira looks at you with smeared mess of chocolate, worsened by another sugary bite. “Why should I worry about it when you’re here to do it for me?”  
You give him flat look. Despite yourself though, you use a napkin from the middle of the table to wipe his mouth off. Miki scoffs at you both.  
“If you’re too spoiled, she’ll get sick of you,” Miki-chan says bitterly.  
“She’d never get sick of me. You on the other hand,”  
You shake your head as the two of them hiss at each other. You’ve been friends for years and they still argue. It’s hard to say they’re oil and water. If anything, they’re so similar it baffles you why they don’t get along better then they do you. After a minute of glaring, she  sighs and goes back to thinking of her shopping trip.  
“Well if shoe’s are out of the question, maybe some new earrings. Oh! And we should get you some makeup you can wear at school.”  
You shake your head. “I told you I’m not interested.”  
“You’re wasting your beautiful omega looks. I won’t allow it,” Miki pouts at you even as you shake your head. “I promise it’ll be easy stuff. I just think it would look nice on you.”  
Bachira doesn’t even look up. “You’re pretty the way you are.”  
“Don’t say something that embarrassing,”  
“It’s not embarrassing if it’s true,” He voices, sing-songy. His insistence only worsens your frown.  
Sasaki glances between you again, you think. It’s too brief for you to catch but the weight of it lingers even when she pulls her gaze.  
“Please? Just a little? I’m buying it for you so it’s fine right.”   
“I know you said you want to practice on me but it’s not just that, right?”  
Miki smiles at you, coy. “Eh… maybe? I want to max your potential more like. You’re not seeing my exquisite vision but I will make you.”  
You shake your head, and sigh - pretending to be more troubled than you are. “Fine. We’ll go after. I want to go to another store too. For stationary,”  
“You’re too much of a bookworm. Boring. Nerd!” Bachira says automatically. 
“The one time we agree on something,” Miki replies.  
You frown at both of them. “It’s important that the world has boring people. How else would we have laws?”  
“Even you thinking about laws is so boring,” 
You shake your head, displeased.  
Conversation flows more steadily between you, Miki and Sasaki. Bachira tunes out, draping himself all over you once he’s done eating. He fidgets with your hands, resting his head on your shoulder. You adjust so you can eat while letting him.  
“Pee,” Bachira announces abruptly. He stands up, arms over his head as his shirt slides over his belly, exposing skin. “Need to pee really bad. Pee time,”  
“Do you want me to come with you?” You ask.  
He looks down at you and smiles widely before shaking his head. “Mm, no. I’ll be fine. I can do it by myself. I’m no longer a kid!”  
You give him a raise brow in reply to say can you? that makes him stick his tongue out. You chuckle at that. “Go pee then. Don’t get lost.”  
“Yes, ma’am!”  
Bachira does a salute before scurrying off to find the closest bathroom. Sure that’ll occupy his time, you smile to yourself as take a spoonfuls of your melty frozen yogurt - careful not to spill any as you put in your mouth and go back to conversation.  
Sorry about that. What were you saying, Sasaki-san?”  
She stares at you for a long time. “Are you two… like… together?”  
You blink.  
“Sorry?”  
“You and him,” Sasaki reiterates. Besides her, Miki snorts.  
“What a good question,”  
You shoot her a unimpressed look. “Ignore her. No, we’re not.”  
“What?” Sasaki says. The genuine disbelief shocks you a little. You’re used to Miki teasing you but not this. “Seriously? Even though he’s like that?”  
“Oh, what? Like touchy?” You reply, starting to understand. Miki interrupts you.  
“Don’t bother, Sasaki. It’s a lose cause.” She shakes her head.  
“Again. Ignore her,” You emphasize, shooting her a glare. “Anyway no. We’re just childhood friends and he’s always been sort of clingy like that.”  
“With everyone?” Sasaki says pointedly. “Or is it just because it’s you…?”  
You pause.  
You’ve never… considered that. You rarely have time to feel overly conscious about what Bachira does or doesn’t do with you. In the first place, he’s not the sort of person that’s easy to predict. He’s got more quirks than you can keep track of but all of it is Bachira. It makes no sense to question his idiosyncrasies this far in. There’s nothing he could do to make you think of him differently. Bachira doesn’t have many friends outside of you to begin with.  
 You blink a few times, considering it. “No, I’m…sure it’s just with anyone he feels very close too,”  
“But to that extent? He was letting off his—“  
Miki shoots her a look and shakes her head. You catch it but find yourself unable to ask, lost in thought. Too hung up on what feels like the edge of an epiphany.  
There’s a long bout of silence until you shake your head.  
 Even if it’s only you, it doesn’t make a huge difference. 
“Bachira is only interested in alphas,” You reply, remembering. Sasaki seems surprised by that for some strange reason. “It really doesn’t mean anything,” 
Before long, Bachira returns to the table. He takes as long as you predicted, but you find you’re a little relieved to see him acting the same. He drops down and places his chin on your head, waiting for you to look up at him.  
“Didja miss me?”  
A sweet, familiar scent. A soft, high voice. A wild look. You look up at him, reassured by your own reminder of his sexuality. You grin mischievously.  
“Not at all,” You say with fake nonchalance. He gasps.  
“Rude!”  
Yes, it’s fine. Still the same old Bachira.  
__  
[ FIFTEEN ]  
“Oh,” You can’t mask the surprise in your voice as your older brother sits at the dining room table. “Nii-san.”  
Your oldest brother has recently started at a real office job. It’s closer to your childhood home then his apartment, so some nights if he’s too exhausted - he’ll drop in and sleep in his old room. It’s rare you come across him though, since he’s usually home and asleep as soon as it’s night time.  
He must’ve come from the office. He’s still wearing his dress shirt and tie, though he has the suit jacket he wears to the office laid over the back of a dining room chair. You try to get used to him looking like that, but the version of him most strongly in your head is all the years he spent as a delinquent.  
His straightened out appearance is unusual for you no matter how often you come across it now. You mostly keep in touch through socials and sparse texts, and he sometimes calls you. His hair is dyed a natural color now and he only has his piercings in on days off. The few tattoos he used to show off are now well hidden under his clothes.  
But his manor and demeanor are largely the same when he’s relaxed. The way he spreads out when he sits makes him look like the average delinquent. The familiarity of it is comfortable albeit funny.  
“You’re home late,”  
“I had student council,”  
He taps his fingers against the table, a silent gesture for you to sit.  
“You’re in student council? Since when?”  
You shrug, setting your bag down to join him in the kitchen. “Since school started. I was roped into it,”  
“Then are you in other clubs?”  
“I’m in a volunteering club. We help the elderly and read with younger classes and help out around school.”  
He pinches the bridge of his nose, tipping his head back. “We’re complete opposites somehow…” 
You purse your lips, faintly amused as you open your fridge up. There’s more pudding then when you left in the morning, but you decide against asking as you take one and open a drawer for a spoon. “You were already skipping class and stuff by then, right? I remembered because you and kaa-san used to argue while I was doing homework.”  
“You heard all of that?”  
You open the plastic peel off lid and dip into the flan-like texture, nodding indifferently as you sit in the dining room chair across from him. “Uh-huh. Kinda hard not too.”  
“It didn’t scare you?” 
“Nah,” You tilt your head. “You glaring at me whenever you saw me did though. A little.”  
His eyes go wide before sighing. “Sorry. I was a knucklehead back then.”  
“It was fine. It made me a bit sad but I’m fine now. And I hope you don’t hate me any more?”  
He gives you a half-hearted laugh, still feeling guilty. You’re mostly teasing. Nii-san has only grown increasingly over protective, though you still don’t know what he’s thinking. He also gives you allowance now, which is nice.  
He leans back. “Nah, course not. How could I hate such a good kid?” 
He reaches over to pet your head as you eat your pudding, giving you a smile you can’t really read. “Your birthday is soon right?” 
“Uh-huh.”  
“Got any plans?”  
“I’ll probably drag Meguru-kun around to the bookstore.”  
He makes a face at you. “That brat,”  
“Don’t call him that.” You frowb. “I don’t get why you hate him so much anyway.”  
“Because he’s always hanging around you and he’s—“ He shakes his fist aimlessly, unable to find the words. They’ve had arguments with each other for as long as you can remember. “Whatever. Fine. Just. Don’t marry him,”  
“He likes alphas,” You say with ease. He looks at you incredulous, before shaking his head.  
“Sure. Even if that changes don’t marry him. Don’t date him either. Settle down with someone nice,”  
“No offense, nii-san but that’s not really a lecture I wanna hear from you,”  
“See? He’s already rubbing off on you.”  
__ 
“Huh? The two of you already broke up?”  
Bachira lays on your bed on his stomach while you sit at your desk, his legs swinging up in the air. Predictably, he’s watching videos about dribbling on his phone.  
You haven’t seen him in a few days but it makes sense that he wouldn’t have heard about it. Your relationship with Inoue wasn’t very public to begin with, at least not on her end. Aside from that, you always got the impression that things would turn out this way.  
You’re sure that your own pessimism and detachment is part of the reason. 
You busy yourself with the derivatives taunting you on your graphing paper, making an affirmative noise. “A couple of days ago,”  
“Ehhh? Wasn’t she totally clingy with you, though?”  
You shrug indifferently. 
Inoue-san was the only other omega in your grade who likes other omegas. There’s rumours about Suzuki-kun who’s a second year and some other third years you don’t really know. Of them, Inoue was the only one you knew personally. You sit next to each other in class and joined the same clubs coincidentally.  
A conversation in the club room making flyers devolved into one about secondary sexes and sexuality. Eventually, you landed on the topic of being an omega. You commiserated about it then, shared some words of camaraderie about the social woes of being the perceived weaker sex and became a little more comfortable with each other. You aren’t sure what thread of conversation exactly led to the talk of you both mutually preferring omegas.  
Inoue-san confessed too, that unlike you who couldn’t figure out what you felt towards alphas, she knew with some certainty she didn’t like them at all.  
Another few weeks of friendship and the steadily closing distance between you, one thing led to another. Inoue-san confessed to you first in a sort of abrupt and out of the blue way. It was a semi-impulsive decision to date her, but you thought she was pretty and nice. A puppy crush worth something, a youthful love affair.  
So after summer break, the two of you started dating.  
It was a short lived relationship. A break in routine. You dated for three months and broke up just this last week. The first month of your relationship was nice. You ate lunch together and texted a lot. The second month you went on dates. The third month had been fine for a little before everything seemed to rip at the seams and fall apart.  
Inoue-san was nice to be with when you were alone. In the sanctity of storage rooms or her childhood bedroom - where there were no eyes to leer at either of you, she was everything you liked about being with an omegas. Soft skin, pretty eyes, an intoxicating scent that made your brain go alight when you touched her. She was comfortable to be with during your pre-heat, easy to touch and hold and caress.  
It made sense to be with her in the way you always thought it would.  
Fundamental differences in your feelings about being omegas in a relationship would appear sooner rather than later though. You’re sympathetic, which is why you don’t think you’re as hurt as you should be. 
“I kinda knew. In the back of my mind, I guess,” You click the end of your pencil to push out more led, scribbling out some more numbers. “She always avoided crowds. Seemed paranoid about people finding out in general. So I thought it might be something like that.”  
“You don’t seem very sad,” Bachira points out. You give him an amused smile from the corner of your eye.  
“What kind of best friend would want me to be sad?”  
“Nooo,” He whines at you, tossing a stuffed toy at you that you reflexively duck a way from. “I was just worried about you, jeez. Plus, I didn’t really like her, you know?”  
There’s no way you couldn’t have known. Bachira being hesitant towards people in your life isn’t anything new. He’s never been fond of any new friends you’ve made, always openly jealous and always asking for assurance that he’s still your number one. Sometimes he’d go as far as doing it in front of them, which you reprimanded him for.  
Sometimes.  
You roll your eyes. “Oh I know,”  
He grins. “I was being so nice this time,” He pouts, rolling onto his back with his arms crossed over his chest. He turns his face to your bedroom wall instead of you. “You should praise me. I wasn’t even mean to her face! Not once,”  
“Pfft,” You laugh behind your hands. “Yeah, good job. Still, I didn’t think Inoue-san was that bad. She didn’t do anything to me,”  
“She was ashamed of you,” Bachira says. It’s weird. A strangely serious sentiment that makes your eyes go wide.  
“Not of me,” You correct. “Of us, maybe. I think she was being sincere when she said she liked me but I mean. I get it. It’s not something I go around telling people either, though I’ve been out for a while,”  
There’s some impulse he bites down. It’s not like you’re defending her, but Bachira takes it as such and takes it personally as he does most things. You give him a small smile as you notice, so attuned to his moods. Even his petulance doesn’t shake you. Selfishness comes as naturally to Bachira as breathing.  
“I wouldn’t be ashamed to be with you in public,” He bites his tongue again and you want to ask what could be on his mind. He’s intending the words to be lighthearted, but there’s weight there. You aren’t sure how you’re meant to hold it. “If were ever to fall madly in love with each other, I would tell the entire world.”  
You try not to let it mean anything. The numbers on your page blur together so much you have to start a problem over. It takes you a second to pull the shake out of your voice.  
“If you like something, don’t you usually tell the whole world anyway?” You say sardonically. Bachira frowns, huffs, turns his head away. His ears are pink.  
“Yeah,” He says back and leaves it there. “Usually keeping it in makes me feel like I’m gonna explode into a million little pieces. Bleh,”  
He slumps back onto one side of your bed and keeps watching his game. The sound of your pencil scratching along the paper makes up for the empty space.  
__  
[ SIXTEEN ] 
On the field, Bachira shines brighter than any star in the night-sky.  
You’re the only one here for todays game. His mom usually comes to whichever one she can, but she has an important exhibition on the other side of the country today. Bachira didn’t show any disappointment about it. You’re not sure how he feels but you doubt it affected too much.  
When it comes to soccer, he becomes completely single-minded.  
The soccer Bachira plays is a reflection of him. Golden yellow and free, like a shade only he can color with, that touches everything and makes it shine in its path.  
The Bachira you know—the Meguru you’ve known your whole life is different when it comes to soccer. Soccer is the precedence of his entire existence. For Bachira, who enjoys being completely and entirely uninhibited, there’s nothing as freeing as the square PVC frames of a net.  
He splits his life in two ways. Soccer and everything else.  
The field are still mildly damp today. It lingers in the air, cooling on your skin as you watch him from the stands in utter awe. Rays of light spill through gaps in the thick clouds over head, shining down on the field and making each move vibrant.  
The game goes on around you bustling endlessly. Noise from all sides. Whether that be in the stands with people talking amongst themselves, the shouting of coaches, or the players talking to one another. It’s loud all around, blurry movements of team mates passing the fall back and forth make up the scene. Guarding and passing, taking each other into consideration as all team sports encourage.  
The soccer that Bachira plays is different from the soccer everyone else plays on the field. Selfish, ego-centric, enigmatic - you find that you can’t take a single breath or you might miss something. It’s antithetical how team sports are played. Eye-catching and flashy as he dribbles the ball along with his feet in a movement like a dance.  
He’s mesmerizing. Despite all the things happening around you all at once, your gaze is fixated completely and utterly on Bachira. So bright it outshines everything else, everyone else, without feeling apologetic. Without reason or rhyme, without strategy. A soccer that demands to be seen.  
This is a game with many players, but to you - it is simply the stage in which Bachira shows off his talent in it’s rawest form. Even in a place not well suited for it, Bachira shines. You’ve never seen anything so brilliant. It’s been years since you last attended a game and seen this applied version of himself.  
It’s the first time Bachira has ever felt so close while feeling so far. It’s the first time you can’t hide from him, pinned underneath the honey-viscous weight of his presence.  
He dribbles the ball between his feet and kicks hard into center stage, scores a goal so beautifully unpredictable the whole crowd roars in cheers and Bachira laughs like he’s delighted.  
You love Bachira. You realize this as he stands like a center piece in the field.  
Like the moon loves the sun. Like the sand loves the tide. Like shadows love light. Bachira is more beautiful playing soccer than you’ve ever seen him, and it occurs to you it’s taken you sixteen years to find this out.  
He’s so beautiful you can’t tear yourself away. Can’t run from the realization.  
His eyes find yours in the crowds of people, elated with his brows raised. You can practically hear him where he stands, lips curled around the words. Did you see that? Did you see the goal I made?  
You break the neutrality of your face and grin wide, uncharacteristic as you chant his name. “Go, Meguru!”  
Bachira laughs again as the game goes on. Your shining star, your ego-centric sun. Your heart is beating loud enough to crush your ribs.  
What an incredible view.  
__  
(Namikaze highschool wins that round of their inter-high bracket. The team goes to celebrate. They never invite Bachira.  
Today, though, Bachira has you. After the game, Bachira wraps you in a hug so tight it could break you. You wonder when he got so strong. His scent, overwhelming and sweet, mixes with the scent of sweat and deodorant. You like it. You hug like that for a while, suddenly aware of your lack of proximity.  
A comment Sasaki-san made about you two years ago pops back into your head but you still don’t think to let him go.  
After he showers and changes back into his usual attire, you and Bachira walk to the 7/11 around the corner of his house.  
You sit on the curb, legs out stretched. The sun is in full bloom, sky painted an pastel orange melting into pinks and blues. You hand Bachira his soda water from your bag, and split the melon flavored popsicle you bought in two halves.  
You give him the bigger half. Unusually, it’s very quiet between you two.  
“I’m going to become the best striker in the world,” He says. A repeat of a dream you’ve heard before, but said with amazing conviction. You look at him for a long time. Wet hair and brown eyes. You tuck a piece of hair behind his ear to look at him better then smile.  
“I know you are,”  
His grin brightens. “Right! Right, so when that happens,” His voice drops, feather soft. “When it happens, make sure you’re watching me. Don’t look away or you’ll miss it. ‘Kay? You gotta promise.”  
He holds out his pinky for you. Were his hands always so calloused? Were they always so big, you wonder. You look at Bachira and suddenly he seems so much older. You nod your head.  
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Meguru.” ) 
__  
[ SEVENTEEN ] 
“Come over,” Bachira demands on the other side of the line. His voice is nearly a screech. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him so excited in your entire life and that is saying a whole lot. “Come over, now. Like right now! You have too, you absolutely must,”  
You pull your bag up on your shoulders as you pull the phone away from your ears. “Jeez, jeez - alright. I just got back from my supplementary lessons, so give me a second.”  
“Are you on the street in front of my house?”  
“Huh? Yeah, I am.”  
The phone line cuts off, going completely silent as you stare at your phone in a mix of confusion and disbelief. Your fingers hover over the call back icon for a second before a tremendously loud shout and even louder footsteps sound in your ears. 
You’re too surprised to laugh as Bachira comes barreling towards you in minutes flat. You steel yourself preparing to catch him if he lands face-first, but he manages to pull back in record speed skidding to a halt. You blink at him rapidly. He feels like an illusion.  
“You ran here,”  
“Yes. I did. Because,” He grabs both of your hands and starts to tug you into some kind of spinning dance in the middle of the sidewalk. “I. Have. News!”  
“News? What about?”  
His eyes widen and shine brilliantly. “Bluelock!”  
__  
The act of disappearing requires a lot more work than you could’ve imagined.  
You’re being dramatic. Bachira isn’t disappearing. Not forever, at least. He’s just going away for a while, abruptly doing the thing that he would’ve done regardless because it’s not like he can become the best striker in the world in Japan alone. It’s something that was bound to happen eventually.  
And, it’s not like you didn’t get any warning. The letter came months beforehand. Bachira was set to leave towards the end of November, which meant he about a month to prepare. Which means you’ve had about a month to be with him.  
It’s not a big deal. You have other friends. Other people. It’s good that Bachira is going to be in a place that he can play the soccer he’s always dreamed. Even as his best friend, there’s some things you can’t do for him. It’s the happiest you’ve ever seen him, which is saying more than you ever could.  
Rationally, you know there’s nothing to worry about. Emotionally, you’ve found out that you rely on Bachira more than you thought. Even the thought of him leaving temporarily is making your heart wrench. You’ve asked him a million questions.  
It’s not like you to be so anxious about anything. You ere on the side of calm. But it’s Bachira. Your Meguru, so you can’t help but worry.  
Bachira, dense as he is about other people, sympathizes with your concerns without asking and doesn’t get mad when you answer. It’s easy for you to forget that he understands you in his own way. 
 Bachira depends on you because he cares about you and you take care of Bachira because you are about him. It fulfills a mutual sense of purpose.  
This is a normal part of growing up. You’ve been repeating it to yourself constantly. It’s not like you won’t see him ever again. You’ll see him afterwards, at least for a little while. You won’t be able to call or text him while he’s in the facility but that’s not forever. And even while he’s in there, he wants to hear about your boring life. So he says, anyways.  
Rationally, you know it’s fine. Emotionally, you’re growing a keen sense of awareness about this being the end of your so-called youth. It’s not you’re adults, but you’re not kids either. You’re going to be eighteen next year. You have to think about entrance exams. You have to think about life and where Bachira will go without you.  
Time is passing by you whenever you hesitate. Eventually, it’ll catch up to you and Bachira will be somewhere so far out of your reach. There’s no one you can think of more perfect for center stage. No one’s soccer will every shine as brilliantly as Bachira’s.  
But it’s lonely. In it’s own right. To think about how far he’ll go. He’ll dribble himself to the ends of the Earth eventually.  
At least for another week though, he’s within your reach. You have so many pictures together in your room per his request over the last few years, but looking at him now you kind of wish you had more.  
“Aren’t you wanting to practice?”  
“Ehh?” He frowns. “I can practice later. But I can’t be in your room all the time you know. I want to burn it into my brain. I thought we should do something special to commemorate but I couldn’t figure anything out.”  
You hum. A thought strikes you. It’s incredibly out of character, but maybe that’s why it does. “We could drink together.”  
Bachira laughs at first, definitely assuming it was a joke. When he realizes you’re dead serious though, he gasps, scandalized. Your lips quirk up at the corners.  
“Who are you? An impostor? A shadow clone?” Bachira grabs your shoulders and shakes you lightly. “What did you do with my uptight best friend?!”  
You laugh helplessly. “Don’t act like that. I just know where my parents keep bottles of shochu cold in the basement and thought maybe. I’ve never touched it before. It’s the weekend right? So if we get too drunk, you can sleep here.”  
Bachira dramatically places a hand over his mouth in shock. “Have you really been replaced by alien clones…I can’t believe my ears.”  
You shake your head. “Do you want to drink together or not?”  
“Ehhhh?? Of course I do!” Bachira says, absolutely enthused at the idea. “We should get so drunk together.”  
You consider it. “My parents are visiting relatives. I guess I can text and see if nii-san is coming home.”  
“Are you saying it’s okay to get drunk if he isn’t planning on coming?”  
You nod. “He’d probably be easy on me but I don’t want him to lecture you,”  
Bachira squishes his face to yours, rubbing his cheek on yours with unabashed affection. You try not to laugh. You can feel him so close, smell him so close it makes you a little dizzy. Bachira doesn’t let out his scent more than necessary, but he is now just barely - scent glands brushing against your skin.  
He smells sweet, but in a strange way. It was comforting and familiar. A little unusual for an omega given how strong it was but it’s not like Bachira is very usual in general.  
It’s a little intimate for friends, but it’s Bachira and who knows when you’d see him next. You let him do as he pleases.  
“Hurry and text your brother,” Bachira huffs, then brightens back up again. “Then lets drink! Yay!” 
__ 
You bring the bottles of shochu back up to your bedroom as a pre-caution. Nii-san is is a couple hours away for a work trip, but you can’t get over the lingering paranoia of him appearing back home and trying to fight Bachira as a result so you figure it’s probably better to drink in your room.  
You bring two glasses up with you along with juice and soda water, unsure about the taste. Bachira likes soda water as is so maybe he can use it as a chaser.  
You sit across from each other at the small table close to the floor in the middle of your room. It took a while to get the bottles open.  
You’ve smelled it before but it’s a little weird having it available to drink. 
“I can’t believe you’re drinking with me. Underage. You, of all people.”  
You pour a little shochu into each of your cups with a roll of your eyes. You’ll save the mix-ins for later, but you’re interested in tasting it on its own. You’re sure your parents have other stuff too, sake, beer and wine but you don’t know where they keep it. You read the labels of the bottle before drinking it.  
You brush past what Bachira has said. “Fourty-three percent seems like a lot.”  
“That’s basically half right? Doesn’t that mean this is gonna make us super drunk? Ohh, think I’m gonna throw up in your room? I haven’t done that since we were ten!”  
“Please don’t throw up in my room.” You say, shaking your head. “I don’t know actually. It seems like a lot. Guess we’ll just have to drink and see.”  
You shrug. You pick up your glass, signaling Bachira to do the same. He lets out a loud kanpai as you do, making you laugh a little as you bring the glass up to your lips. The scent itself sort of burns, you can’t imagine what drinking it is gonna be like.  
You watch aghast as Bachira knocks the entire glass back and nearly hacks up his lungs coughing. His eyes are wet when he recovers with a fit of laughter that he can’t seem to get control of.  
“Ahhh, it burns! It burns so much and it tastes weird. But it was easier to drink at once.” He says dramatically laughing, nearly retching in the process.  
You stare at him in disbelief before taking a sip of your own drink refusing to partake in the same foolishness. He’s right that it burns. You always heard that but feeling the acidity in your mouth is different. It feels like all the moisture from your mouth is going along with it. You try it a few more times in short sips.  
Are you some sort of masochist?  
“I kind of…” You blink. Your eyes water as you look up at Bachira. “I kind of like it…?”  
Bachira takes the bottle into his own hands that time and pours more of it straight into your glass and less into his. You’re sitting but you feel woozy. He pours soda and juice along his own before picking it up again, smiling with a friendly cheers.  
__ 
Hours pass.  
You and Bachira drink two entire bottles and talk to each other about nothing in particular. Mostly, it’s Bachira telling you how excited he is to go to Bluelock and you listening. You like listening to him. You love his voice.  
You’re not sure when exactly the distance between you had disappeared entirely. You’re used to Bachira. To his body heat, to his presence, to his weight. You know how to carry him. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the drawn out feeling of loneliness making you feel self-conscious.  
You don’t know what it is exactly. But there’s something about him at this proximity you’re having a hard time with. Wrapped up together, tangled on your bedroom floor while you both reek of liquor. He smells like burnt honey and he’s… handsome. More than he is pretty, you think. Still pretty though too.  
He’s so unusual in every way. Your love for him sort of simmers underneath you in a pleasant but difficult way. You blink. Your eyes are bleary. He talks so much, but it’s the first time you really think about kissing him. The first time you wonder about how it feels.   
You’re staring. Bachira pauses halfway as you’re tucked against him and stares back, mouth curled into familiar chesire grin. He drops his voice down to a whisper.  
“What?” He says. He’s being teasing. He does that occasionally.  
“Nothing,” You say and want to shut your eyes. “Keep talking. ‘s fine.”  
“It’s not nothing,” He whines petulantly. “You’re not listeninggggg,”  
“Sorry.”  
He hugs you, an arm slipping under you and squeezing you. Was he always so strong? You figured his legs might be but there’s muscle in his arms too. “I’m not actually mad, dummy.”  
“I was sorry, though.” A beat of silence. A heartbeat. “I’m gonna miss you.”  
“Really?”  
You look at him incredulous. “Of course. Did you think I wouldn’t?”  
“You’re hard to read sometimes! Even for me.”  
You decide not to apologize again. Bachira would complain. You desperately want to tell him you love him. They’re the only words on you mind. But even this wasted, you can’t bring yourself to do something that pointless.  
“You’re the most important person in my entire life,” You opt for instead. “And I hope you find someone who can play the kind of soccer that’s fun for you.”  
Another minute of silence passes before you hear the familiar huff of Bachira crying. He cries often but he hasn’t done it in front of you for quite some time. He tucks himself against your neck and shoulder, shifting to press against your scent glands.  
“I was doing a good job not trying before this,” He mutters. You rub his back soothingly, smiling a bit. “Gosh…don’t be so sappy like that randomly. It’s bad for my heart!”  
Your own throat feels thick but you keep it down. Manage to swallow the tears away. You want to tell him so badly it’s making it hard to breathe.  
Bachira looks up after a while. You do him the courtesy of wiping his tears away with your thumb, brushing them away from his face.  
You don’t realize how close your faces have gotten until you nearly brush against his nose.  
You think the alcohol is making you hallucinate when you feel a kiss.  
Your eyes are still open for it. It’s not clumsy but it’s not smooth either. You blink. And you feel it again, and it lingers a little longer until you close your eyes and kiss back.  
You kiss him so hard it feels like you forget how to breathe.  
__ 
You don’t talk about it.  
When Bachira wakes up the next day thoroughly hung-over and much in the same condition, treating you exactly the same - you assume he’s forgotten about it unlike you. You try not to let it weigh on you by writing it off as one of Bachira’s many quirks. Maybe you’ve gotten practice at repressing your emotions better than you thought since it works perfectly.  
The week passes by easily. At the end of it, you see Bachira off along with his mom and the rest of your family who insisted on waving him off. The thought of not knowing the next time you’ll see him is painful but you manage it with the feeling you’ll see him eventually.  
Though you don’t know how long it’ll be.  
__  
The next time you see Bachira’s face is on T.V.  
It’s the first time you’ve ever sat in your living room to watch a game of soccer. You had wanted to attend, but tickets had only been alloted for family. You settled on watching at home, though Bachira’s mom had promised she would relay any messages she could from Bachira to you through text and otherwise.  
You’ve never been into soccer. Despite your many years spent along side it for one reason or another, the sport itself has rarely ever been of any interest. You’re sure this is partly to blame on the fact you are hilariously unathletic albeit perfectly healthy.  
When the U-2o match gets announced and you hear Bluelock will be playing, your ears perk up like a dog. You’re glad Bachira isn’t around to see how you announce to your entire house and tell them the T.V. and living room will be totally occupied during the duration of the match. You invite Miki-chan who pretends to want to refuse but comes over to watch anyway. Your nii-san joins you, which isn’t a surprise since he liked soccer to begin with.  
You know whats happening well enough since you’ve had it explained to you hundreds of times.  
You see several people on the screen during the match. Bachira’s team mates. Team mates he gets along with. There’s another player named Isagi on the field and him and Bachira have such tangible chemistry you feel a little jealous watching them.  
In the short few months Bachira has been away at Bluelock, you can see how he’s changed. How much his soccer has transformed and improved in so little time.  
Most of all, you can tell that Bachira is having the best time of his entire life. You can deal with the mild envy if only he gets to be that happy forever. 
The U-20 games end in a victory for the Bluelock team and several interesting characters appearing. That guy, Isagi, announces to the world that he’s going to be the one to lead the team to victory. You think to yourself that you understand exactly why Bachira likes him.  
The next time you see Bachira in person is not long after that. Apparently as a reward for their win, they’d been granted two weeks of free time.  
It was only a few months, but it’s easy to tell how much Bachira has changed. It was all over him. He carried himself with more confidence, more electricity, more buzz.  
He was still himself while being completely unrecognizable at the same time.  
You were happy Bachira was happy, elated to hear all about his life and new friends. You couldn’t keep track of all of it, but you’ve been spending the last few days attached at the hip now that he was back in your hometown.  
He’d had another day to visit friends already out in Shibuya that you couldn’t attend. Not that you really wanted too. You were happy he extended the invite but being around that many athletes and no doubt many alphas sounded like a nightmare.  
 You figured he would have another day or two like that as is, so when he texts you again that he’ll be meeting with some Bluelock friends, you’re content to let him go and not tag along despite yourself. As much some whiny part of you wanted to monopolize him completely (an omega part of you, you can admit) you feel it’s more important for Bachira to nurture his newer relationships on his own.  
And again, being around that many alpha athlete teenage boys is mildly nightmarish to you in particular.  
So you invited Sasaki to the mall to talk about this and that to keep your time occupied.  She’d started dating some guy at school and you have yet to know the details.  
You weren’t expecting to run into Bachira with his friends at the same mall.  
You catch Bachira’s eye from across the way in the middle of the mall, along with a group of boys you know to be his new team mates. You honestly think it’d be better to avoid them for now. Not that you’re not happy to see Bachira, but there’s no way this won’t be incredibly awkward for you. 
Sasaki nudges you though, not caring in the slightest at your visible distress. “Isn’t that Bachira-kun?”  
“Yes,” You hiss, trying not to be obvious. “Let’s go the other way.”  
“Huh? Why?”  
“Because—“ 
You turn around to leave but don’t really get a chance as you hear a voice shout your name.  
You flinch as you turn around. Sasaki gives you an amused look that you elbow her for immediately, feeling yourself jolt. After she makes fun of you, she holds your hand with an affirming squeeze and comforts you in a way only betas can - a soft citrus scent washing over you. You squeeze her hand back sighing, thankful as the group of boys stalk over to you.  
Bachira runs more than he walks, skidding to a halt in front of you. “Ehhh? What are you doing here?”  
“Came to gossip and walk around with Sasaki-chan,” You say with a shrug, pointedly ignoring the three pairs of eyes on you as you talk. “And buy books.”  
“I thought you said you couldn’t come,” Bachira pouts at you, giving you a pointed look. You smile lightly.  
“I didn’t say that,” You reply softly. “I didn’t want to intrude, that’s all.”  
“You’re not intruding! Even if you were, I wouldn’t really care.”  
“But you should,” You insist, shaking your head. You turn to his friends, getting a better look at them. Two alphas and one beta if your nose is right. You look at them apologetically. “Sorry about interrupting your outing.”  
The one of them with pink hair and the prettiest features you’ve ever seen talks first. You’re sure people mistake him for an omega, but his scent is too alpha like for that to be the case. It’s strong enough and distinct enough for you to identify from this distance. “Not at all. I’m Chigiri. This is Nagi,” He says, introducing the other alpha next to him. “And I figure you already know of Isagi,”  
You smile a little at that. “Ah, yeah. I do, actually.” You glance at Isagi. He’s a beta in the way he feels like the pinnacle of peace and safety off the field. It’s a little funny how different he seems. They all seem, really.  
“Stop getting so buddy-buddy with them,” Bachira bemoans. You frown at him.  
“Sorry about him,” You introduce your name first, then Sasaki. “We’re all childhood friends. It’s nice to meet all of you. Sorry to disturb your day off.”  
“You’re not disturbing us,” Isagi says serenely. You think he seems a touch smug but can’t tell if you’re imagining it. 
“You’re welcome to hang out,” Chigiri says next. He and Isagi share an unreadable but obviously conspiratorial look. Your eyes widen at the offer, shaking your head with your hands up.  
“Ah. No, we don’t want to intrude seriously.”  
“Why are you deciding for me?” Sasaki cuts in, making you shoot her a very sharp glare. “Shouldn’t you at least ask?”  
“You’re not intruding,” Chigiri assures, an incredibly disarming smile on his face. “We’d be bound to see each other again if we’re both here anyways. May as well, right?”  
You feel yourself sink, glancing at a very Bachira and thinking of the complaints you’re going to receive as soon as the two of you are alone. Your shoulders slump as you reluctantly smile, lips pressed into a flat line. 
‘That’s true. If you’re sure you don’t mind, then alright.  
__  
For alphas, you think Bachira’s friends are pretty nice.  
Nagi barely speaks, but he’s weirdly been engaged in conversation for the entire duration of you knowing him. He’s got the imposing looks and vibe of an alpha but precisely none of the aggression - at least from where you’re standing. He’s been considerate of you in his own way, especially after Bachira had announced the general discomfort you had felt towards alphas over all.  
Chigiri is similarly nice. You can tell he grew up around omegas and are not surprised at all when he informs you he has omega sisters in his house. He’s extremely friendly for an alpha, and you’re sure another omega would be foaming at the mouth at how polite he is.  
Of his friends though, you still take preference to Isagi. He is a beta through and through. Adaptable, friendly, easy going while having a sort of snark you find incredibly entertaining. Him and Bachira get along like a house on fire, but not in way that’s entire negative. You do feel a little envious seeing how close they’ve gotten in such a short period of time, but you’re mostly happy for him. Their bond is obviously special.  
The rest of your group left a few moments ago, leaving you and Isagi to a much bedgrudging Bachira. You’d gotten food from the food court but it wouldn’t require so many people to go wait so you and Isagi have been securing a spot. You aren’t sure how to be alone with him, never been all that good with strangers.  
Isagi is good at making conversation though, so you haven’t had to do much leg work.  
You end up at the topic of Bluelock and Isagi practically beams at the chance to talk about it. It’s kind of cute in it’s own right. You know some stuff about it, but the logistics have been lost on you. Bachira tends to talk about these things more with onomatopoeias than with words. 
You fiddle with something on the end of your bag as you engage in conversation. 
“How does the facility manage like… having omegas and stuff in there?” You wonder. You voiced the concern to Bachira before leaving too but he had assured you it’d be fine. You kind of feel nosy asking.  
Isagi shoots you a confused look. “Hm? Bluelock doesn’t have any omegas. It sucks but they considered it too high risk so only betas and alphas were admitted.”  
Your turn to look confused. “Sorry? But Bachira is enrolled in it no…?”  
Isagi stares at you. “Uh,” He scratches the back of his neck. “Bachira is an alpha, though? Like, a pretty strong one too. It’s hard to tell from his scent from what I hear but he’s prescribed the really high dose medications that the other alphas take. Part of the rut management and everything.”  
You blink.  
“…That’s…” And then you look up, completely unsure of what to say. “..Are you sure? Like… really sure?” 
Isagi looks at you sympathetically. His voice is soft and comforting. “Yeah. I’m sure. Sorry,”  
You shake your head. “No it’s,” You feel your eyes start to well up, chest feeling especially tight. “It’s okay. It’s not like you did anything wrong.”  
“You’re a nice girl, huh?” Isagi says, voice tender and easily sensing your sudden distress. It makes your lip wobble. You want to cry into a strangers arms even though you absolutely can’t. “I’ll scold him for you.”  
You give him a thankful look. “I’m gonna uh,” You swallow. “Go to the bathroom. When Sasaki comes back tell her to text me. And Bachira, uhm. I guess just tell him I went home.”  
Isagi smiles. “Sure.”  
You thank him again picking up your few things hastily and bolting in the opposite direction.  
You don’t really know what you’re supposed to do or how you’re so suppose to receive the information. It’s not a sense of betrayal you feel welling up inside of you, but something closer to  a sudden deep remorse and regret. And so much shock you can barely make sense of anything. You feel the sorry in your bones, and you feel the paved memories of your entire lifetime begging to shake under your feet.  
Bachira is still Bachira. 
But he’s an alpha. An alpha who likes other alphas, in the same way you’re an omega who likes other omegas. He’s like you. You shared this your entire life, but you never knew not once. You didn’t even have any idea.  
What kind of friend does that make you? What kind of friend have you been to him all this time? Was it bad enough that he couldn’t share it? When you’ve depended on him so much?  
You don’t know how you end up in a bathroom. It’s in such a far away part of the mall. You feel out of body, moving on autopilot as you shuffle into the empty stall and sit on the toliet with your bag and your things.  
You’re reminded of your first heat on the train back from middle school. An old memory but not old enough you easily forget. Hesitance turned to frustration and disgust towards alphas. You’d avoided after that for years and still do now. Was it then?  
Despondent, you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. The echo of stalls, the noise of people loudly outside, the forceful beat of your heart. A reminder that you’re really living through this realization so late. It’s weird. It hurts so much you can barely think through your thoughts and come upon any answers on how to go on.  
It’s not hard to understand why. Bachira is selfish but he’s also loyal. You’re sure that sometime ago, to protect the vulnerable version of you who was already so distrusting of alphas, Bachira had kept it from you as to break your perception any further. You can’t blame him for that, especially when that distrust towards alphas yet to dissolve completely. Of course he wouldn’t be comfortable telling you.  
You can’t bring yourself to hate him over it and never would. You’d spend the rest of your life trying to unglue the fused parts of yourself with him, the memories and you’d never see the end of it if you attempted.  
What hurts you is that he never told you. Not ever. Not even when you voiced your worries about his heats in Bluelock. Not even as you drank together. Not even when he kissed you. 
Was he never going to tell you? 
Did he never trust you enough to tell you? 
That hurts most. You only have yourself to blame. The thought makes your heart wrench. Your eyes water as you focus in on the ground and try to breathe. 
The door of the bathroom itself opens and shuts all of a sudden, familiar footfall making hundreds of alarm bells go off at once. You already know it’s Bachira, but for the first time you don’t know what you’re meant to say to him. The feeling is so complex you can barely put it in words for yourself. How were you meant to face him?  
“Meguru,”  
You can hear him whimper on the other side of the stall door, fists hitting it in a dull thud.  
“I’m sorry,” He’s crying. You want to open the door and comfort him so badly but shame stops you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry - it’s all my fault. Don’t hate me, please don’t hate me.”  
You hate hearing him cry. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to keep your voice steady. “I don’t hate you at all.”  
“You’re lying. You won’t even open the door to look at me.”  
“I just can’t,” You say, not really know how else to explain it. “But nothing could make me hate you.”  
“But you hate alphas, don’t you? You’re uncomfortable with me now. We can’t be close anymore, right?”  
You don’t say anything to that. You want to deny it. You want to tell him nothing could make you want to stop being his friend.  
But then, you remember that Bachira is destined for unimaginable greatness. Bright like the sun and even more interesting, more talented, more cool than you could ever be. He’s an alpha to boot. You think of the future of your life and how you’ve always pictured it to be quiet and functional, because that’s who you’ve always been. Bachira is—was a star crash landing in your life, anyhow. You think of all of that, along with everything else - and all the ways you’ve betrayed him unintentionally.  
You’ve used up all of your luck. Inevitably. Eventually, it was always going to end with a gradually forming distance. You knew that before he left just like you know it now. And nows as good a time as any to put it to rest.  
“Meguru,” He’s your first friend. You’re sure that’s why he’s so shaken up. Distance would be better. “You have to focus on becoming the best in the world, right? I’ll uh,” You try to breathe. “I’ll be watching from a distance no matter what,”  
“Please don’t leave me,” He whimpers. You wince.  
“It’s not like that. There’s a lot of people who are beside you now.” You say warily, trying to comfort him. If you were a more selfish person, you would want to be friends. You love Bachira. You’ve loved him your entire life. You probably always will. But you think if he’s had to keep this secret from you so long - you don’t deserve any of that. “It’s fine. You’ll be fine,” 
Without me. You’ll be fine without me. You want to tell him that, but can’t bring yourself to say it.  
You won’t be, you don’t think. Not for a while. But this is the least you can do for your relationship. For your best friend who you haven’t paid enough attention too.  
“I’ll stay with you until you stop crying,” You offer. “And when your eyes aren’t red, we can both just go home. Okay?” 
Bachira sniffles on the other side of the door and doesn’t reply. 
__  
[ EIGHTEEN ] 
On your eighteenth birthday, Bachira’s mom calls you at midnight.  
Yu-san is like a third parent to you, so you pick regardless for the reason she calls. She sounds relieved when you answer despite the sleep in your voice. You’re up late studying for your driving license exam which you’ll finally be eligible to take starting now.  
“Ah. Hello?”  
“Hey, kid. Thanks for picking my call,” She sounds like she’s doing something. It’s a Sunday so she’s probably painting. “Don’t sound too confused. I just called to wish you happy birthday. Meguru always called you at midnight, didn’t he?”  
You look down at the papers on your desk, twirling pen in fingers. “Yeah, he did.”  
“You two still aren’t talking, right? But knowing Meguru, he’ll feel sad later on when he realizes he didn’t wish you because he was upset,” She hums, nonplussed. You smile a little. Yu-san is just like that, you think. Even after being aware of you and Bachira’s fights, the way she’s treated you hasn’t changed. “So I thought I’d do in his place.”  
“It’s alright, Yu-san. But thank you,”  
“Of course,” She says. You hear the faucet running and the familiar clicking of paint brushes on the other side of the line. “Come over when you have some time. I brought ingredients for your favorite. We can go pick up a cake together, too. I bet you’re too busy studying and forgot to make plans, right?”  
You flush. “…I did.”  
She laughs good-naturedly. “Right? I thought so. I know it’s just you in the house, but feel free to invite Sasaki and Miki-chan, alright? And don’t stay up too late studying.”  
You feel tears well up in the corners of your eyes. “Thank you for always taking care of me, Yu-obasan,”  
“Oh, don’t be silly. That’s a given right?”  
“Right,” You sniffle. “But still, thanks.”  
“Of course. Oh! And, happy birthday.”  
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rensylph · 1 month ago
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>>> 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐒
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< yandere zhongli x reader ( MAFIA AU ) >
You and two of your friends decided to go to a club to party and the start of your semester in the nation, teyvat. You got drunk and woke up naked in a grand mansion and a man holding your waist and nuzzling against your chest. You thought this would be a normal one night stand and will not be in contact with you but turns out the man has other plans
Warning : implied sexual intimacy, age gap, drinking
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Imagine waking up in a hotel suite bigger than your apartment with someone nuzzling close to you, your clothes are scattered around the bedroom, an aching sting in your body lowest parts, a box of empty condoms And the worst hung over in your life.
When you were about to gather your clothes and leave before the person woke up, a hand grabbed your wrist preventing you.
The man has beautiful long locks of brown hair, ember eyes, handsome face features, and a well built body with tattoos of a dragon in his back and arms. Dang you struck gold.
He introduced himself as zhongli, he asked for you to stay a little longer and he will order room service
It was awkward to be honest, you did ask some questions about him but he always gives out a vague answer. As if he's trying not to reveal too much, you didn't pry about it though since he is just a one night stand plus you're in a foreign country there's a high chance you're not gonna see him anymore in the future.
He told his chauffeur to pick you up and drive you home. He seems very well known in the hotel staff every time they pass him they would greet him, it felt awkward of course.
His driver arrives and introduces himself as xiao and he opens the door to the car for you, before getting in he grab your wrist and put a note of his number saying that he had fun and wish to experience it more than one time and then he said he gotta go due to work and you get in the car.
The car ride was quiet and xiao seems to have no intention of making conversation it was just dead silent
And when you arrive at your dorm, your best friend lumine rush towards you and tackle you asking where you were, she said that when she was in the bathroom you disappeared and was entering a limo with a fine gentleman.
You didn't think much of it, since it's college and you have to focus on it. Recently many gifts and flowers were sent from mr zhongli. He even gave you an ember necklace that cost more than tuition. It was 4 million mora meanwhile your tuition cost 1 million mora.
You ask mr zhongli to please stop sending since it causes so much and you don't want to trouble but he just shrugged it off the amount saying it was a little amount and just accepted it.
I mean you do text him often talking about you guys days and meet from time to time but it's Always in fancy restaurants that always cause a fortune to have a table and reservation.
During one of these meetings he pulled out a beautiful ring with a large jade in the front with diamond encrusted around the metal, with two dragons engraving inside the metal.
He proposed saying after you graduated from college, you and him should get married. He will offer everything to you, you don't need to live in that small cramped dorm room you can live in one of his penthouses in the city, you will have xiao drive you and your friends anywhere, instead of eating cup noodles everyday and worried about money, he will have private chefs cook your favorite food as well giving you an allowance every week for you to spend, you don't need to worry about anything just said yes and he will take care of your needs.
It all moves too fast it's been only 6 months and he already wants to get married. You rejected saying that it moves too fast and say you don't see yourself being with him in the future. You said you need space and leave not before paying for your food and tipping the waitress and Mr zhongli just sit their stunt.
For the past few days after the accident you and him haven't talk in a week thinking, you're giving him space after the rejection.
Until when you were alone in the campus garden some one hugged you from behind and whispered in your ear
"if you don't follow me or obey my orders, I will kill everyone on this campus, this is your last chance to stop a massacre of your peers, this is an order "Marry me"
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xqueen-of-disasterx · 9 months ago
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Congrats on 1k! Absolutely love your work, especially the darker fics.
Can I request step-sis intersex!Nat walking in on reader as she's asleep and deciding that she's finally going to take her for herself? Nat starts eating reader out to get her wet and the reader moans Nat's name in her sleep, so Nat wakes her up so she can really enjoy it.
Thinking that maybe Nat ties the readers hands above her head, as Nat forces her huge cock inside the readers tiny body, creating a belly bulge. Finishing inside her to breed her and then making the reader cock-warm her so that she can stay full. Belly rubbing because Nat is obsessed with the sight of her cock inside her innocent little step-sis.
Kinks: bondage, breeding, dub-con that turns consensual, somnophilia, belly bulge, Daddy kink and thinking cock-warming too.
Thank you!
Closer
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��𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: fem!reader x step-sis!Nat
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: Having your beloved step sister back home for the summer turned more pleasant than expected.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, DUB-con, but the reader is very into it, amab!Nat, dom!Nat, sub!reader, age gap (legal), taboo relationship, kinda mean Nat, tattooed Nat (Nat is just the stereotypical bad boy), innocent!reader, Daddy!kink, alcohol use, bondage, breeding kink, somnophila, cock warming, size kink?
!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!
𝐀/𝐍: kisses from the hospital guys enjoy the first park of the 1k special I’ll post more requests soon. This request was really fun to write
𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
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Natasha knew how wrong it was to feel that kind of way about her step sister, but she was only a human too. Ever since she had came to visit her father for this summer she couldn't help herself but see you in a different light.
Back when her dad first started to live with your mother, she only had eyes for the many girls tendering to her, who were in her grade or above. She never really noticed you, of course you were her annoying little step sister who could've guessed you'd turn into this?
You weren't innocent either, you were always found of Natasha. In your eyes she was the coolest person you'd know, with her blue tainted hair and fast cars, you were heart broken whenever you saw a different girl enter her room.
Natasha soon went away for college, meaning you'd only get to see her for the holidays which was still enough to keep you crushing on her. It was special that she visited this summer especially since you just turned 18.
This summer had been unusual hot for the colder climate of Ohio, but it's not like you were complaining to see Nat in all those wifebeaters and sport bras. She normally rummaged in the garden, laying at the pool, again in sports bras and swim trunks. It made your cheeks heat, your stomach feel weird, and every once in a while when you saw how she climbed out of the pool, the muscles under her wet skin flexing, it made you feel all itchy down there.
Another hot summer day, another day where you'd relax under the water sprinkler in your backyard, just like you did when you were a child. Except for a pair of eyes watching from the pool. Natasha Romanoff, your step- sister, whose eyes hid under her shades, watched every move of yours. She sat by the pool shirtless to "tan", Natasha never tanned, she had the skin colour of a porcelain doll and always used the highest sunscreen to not end up looking like a lobster. No, she was there to observe, not the local birds, or nature, no, you. How could anyone be so carless, she asked herself as she watched your white camisole top turn translucent.
Shortly after realising what she was doing she, or better what your view did to her prick, she looked back on her phone scrolling on a black screen to look less suspicious. But it's not like you would've noticed anyway, Natasha knew how innocent you were, how your mother had sheltered you in contrast to herself. God, get yourself together Natasha, she thought to herself. If she wanted she could've get a hook up here within the day, but it wouldn't help last time she tried she accidentally moaned your name while cumming. Something so utterly embarrassing the girl left immediately after.
"Natty" you ask in an innocent voice, every other person calling the other woman that wouldn't stand here today, but she let it slide. "What's up" She asked as her eyes wandered over your wet body to which your clothes clanged. Natasha never was a religious person but in this moment she thanked god for the invention of sunglasses.
"Can you get me towel from inside" you asked giving her your best bambi eyes. "Go get it yourself, I'm not your personal servant" She scoffed "Please, Tasha I'm all wet and I don't want it tripping on the floor board" She shook her head "You should've thought about that in the first place" She mumbled under her breath but still got up to get you your towel. She could never say no to one of your pleads.
"Thank you" you grinned and wrapped you up in one of this big fluffy towels. She smirked back at you her hands rubbing over your wet skin. "There you go sweetheart" She mumbled again feeling a tingle in her pants when her hands touched you.
"Where's mom?" You asked stepping into the large living area you parents had. "Out for dinner with my dad" She remarked not even looking up from the TV where some, for me, unimportant soccer game was running. "Why are you still standing there?" She asked in a dismissive tone "They'll be gone the whole night" Oh, the whole night just you and your step sister together, great. Nat chugged more of her beer side eyeing you to leave her alone, of course she wanted you close, closer than close, but you couldn't know that yet. Not to mention that with the more of the bitter liquid she had the less she could control her urges. 
It wasn't that wrong, she tried to tell herself, millions of guys before her had fucked their step sisters right? Eventually you opened your mouth again "I'll head to bed now" you started and only earned a little hum from her and some mumbled words you didn't understand before slipping on her beer bottle again. 
Her team lost, of course it did, Natasha turned the TV off rubbing her eyes before too going to her bed room but not without making another stop at your room. She slipped though the crack in the door closing it gently before taking a seat next you on the soft cushion of the bed. She always did that, making sure you were save and sound but tonight it was different. She was frustrated, and horney, one more than the other. 
"You're so pretty" she mumbled being lost deep in the haze of the alcohol and lust, she knew you couldn't hear her nor feel but she still gently wiped some lost hair behind your ear. You squirmed under her feather like touch. You rolled onto your back the blanket slipping from your body exposing your topless body. Fuck, you had forgotten to wear a shirt to bed, or had you? Nat saw it as an invitation to taste your sweet body. 
She stood up pulling her hoodie off to reveal a hard set of muscles covered in tattoos, she strangled your smaller body kissing the valley between your breasts before turning to kiss down your soft stomach. You squirmed again your hands trying to find something to grip on, Nat caught your hands bringing them above your head before using her abandoned top to tie your hands to the head board of your framed bed. 
Finally she could turn to your soaked panties tugging them off your legs, your step sister placed both of your legs on her shoulders giving you better access to your sleeping form. She kissed your pubic bone before taking a deep sniff of your glossy cunt. "let my taste you baby girl" She groaned before licking over your weeping pussy, you tasted fantastic better than any girl she had before you. 
Your clit was pulsing in need to be touched, standing proud from his hood Nat couldn't resist tasting the forbidden fruit. When she took your bubble of nerves in her mouth she couldn't believe her ears. "Nat" came a sob from your throat she let she teeth scrape over it just to check she wasn't completely mad "Natasha" now it was a full blown moan, she smiled getting more and more bold with her movements. 
She kept on licking away on your cunt and thankfully to her many years of experience with the girls in college she had you trembling towards the edge within minutes. She took your clit in her mouth again this time biting down gently, to wake you from your slumber you thought to yourself. 
"I- what" poor innocent you were to confused to even grasped what was happening to you you were lost in a haze of mind numbing pleasure until you tried to find to source of it. "Nat-?" you were interrupted by an almost pornographic moan breaking free from your throat. You winded your body on the bed tugging on the restrains before climaxing under her tongue. She made you ride out your orgasm before hushing your quiet sobs. "You're mine baby girl" she kissed your pelvis bone. "Nat we can't" you mumbled "No one needs to find out" She reassured you "Just say no and we'll forget a bout this all, but something tells me, little girl, you want me just as much as I want you"
"You’re right" you mumbled under your breath making Nat smirk she stood up again tugging off your boxers to reveal a dick of a size you had never seen before. Of course you didn't have much experience but she looked inhuman. "Nat it's not-" She hushed you "call me daddy" Instinctively you closed your legs making nat chuckle. "Too big" You mewled again "Oh bunny, I'll make it fit, daddy would never hurt her little girl" she reassured you her hands trailed down her body brushing over the small patch of her which made up her happy trail. She pried your legs open before pushing them to your chest. 
She alined herself with you before slowly pushing inside your small hole, bringing tears to your eyes. It felt like her dick suffocated by your tight velvet walls, when she finally did bottom you out she knew it was heaven of earth. She admired the small bulge forming on your lower stomach rubbing over it in an awe. 
She waited for you to at least try to adjust before setting a rapid pace giving you no breaks, it felt like she was trying to compare her performance with a machine. I string of moans and whispers left your throat as her hips kept pistoling into your tight heat. 
"Fuck" She groaned in between thrusts "I'm gonna fucking breed this little pussy. Wouldn't you like that daddy making you a mommy?" You were too dumbed down to even comprehend her words  and the self assigned title made you see stars. "Answer daddy" She commented slapping your tits which bounced with ever vigour truths of her hips. "Yes daddy" you mewl in ecstasy "make me your mommy" You moaned making your step sister grin. 
With a few more truths you were both on the edge of ecstasy, especially you saw the stars already. "Cum" she commanded "Fucking cum with me" another sting of curse words left her mouth before releasing her white juices inside of you triggering your own orgasm. After leaving your high she gently rubbed your belly again not dreaming of pulling out from your walls. "mine" she mumbled upon seeing the clear bugle she had formed in your stomach. She freed your hands kissing each of your wrists which made you giggle at the romantic gesture, as if she hadn't just fucked you into oblivion. 
She moved you to lay on top of her making you trace the fine lines of her tattoos, she was your step sister but from this night on she was much more than that. 
:)
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misserabella · 1 year ago
Text
puppy love
dad’s bf shane mccutcheon x fem! reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pt2
synopsis: you’ve liked your dad’s best friend for a very long time. the time has come when you can finally have her.
cw;; +18 content! minors dni!! (i’ll hunt you down), shane is 34, reader is 18 in the first part of the fic, alcohol and drug consumption (coke and weed) (don’t do this guys!!!!), fighting, reader being mean, TENSIONNNN, puking, kissing, tattoos, piercings, teasing, praising, degradation, voyeurism (kinda), oral sex (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), cum eating, hair pulling…
you’ve had this silly little crush on your dad’s best friend since you were a teenager.
how could you not? she was beautiful, and successful and so fucking hot… she was unique. you’ve never met anyone quite like shane mccutcheon. so free.
it was innocent at first. you’d always want to spend time with her. she was the person you looked up to after all. she taught you how to skate from a a very early age. she always cut your hair when you’d need a fresh cut, and dyed it even though when she knew your dad would give her hell for it just because you wanted to (she would say sorry, but she wasn’t). she gave you your first tattoo when you turned 16 in a place where your father wouldn’t see. a hummingbird, just like hers. “my birthday present for you, kid” she had said. you could still remember the feeling of her fingertips on your thighs and waist as she tattooed your hipbone. you had tried so hard to not blush and squirm, her touch electrifying.
you could feel butterflies every time your friends would ask you about her in recess, well-known looks being shared when you’d blush. and your knees would go weak when you’d see her at the entrance of your high-school after class, waiting for you leaning against her car with her charming smile. “hey kid.” she’d mess up your hair with one of her ringed hands, hugging you close to her chest. you’d push her away, acting pissed off, when in reality all you wanted was to hug her closer and bury your face in the crook of her neck. she always smelled so nice…
but you couldn’t keep her too close ‘cause then you’d notice the hickeys on her neck, and all those butterflies would die.
your father had you at a very early age, having to raise you all by himself since your mother decided to run away and leave you. and shane had been there since the first second that she had met your father, along with the whole group, helping him push through.
so when you realized that what you felt for her was more than something platonic… your whole world came crashing down on your shoulders.
eighteen and in love with a woman twice your age… so you slowly started to drift away. you’d act busy. you’d started going out frequently, doing drugs, drinking alcohol… getting wasted and sleeping with a bunch of girls to try and forget her.
of course, she’d always find you.
“oh my god…” you groaned, turning around to face your friend with wobbly legs and your heart on your throat. “shane’s here.” you had just left the club, completely drunk out of your mind and with hickeys all over your chest and neck. you couldn’t let her see you like this. you didn’t want to see her.
“what? where?” your friend inquired and you pointed with your eyes to the side and to your back. “fuck. what do we do?”
“don’t let her see me. please, lucile.”
“okay, let’s…” but then she ducked her head, eyes shot open. “oh shit. shit. shit. she saw me.”
“fuck!” you whispered, and at the same time you heard shane’s voice coming from behind you, calling out for you. you tried to ignore her, tried to act as if she wasn’t you who she was looking for, but she wouldn’t give up.
“hey! i’m talking to you!” your whole world started spinning when you felt her hand on your shoulder, turning you around so you could face her. “do you have any idea how worried your dad is? we’ve been looking like crazy for you.” her voice sounded harsh, and she looked pissed. it was when she noticed that you weren’t looking at her, but instead hiding your eyes that she took your face with her free hand, making you face her. “fuck… you’re high?” your eyes were reddish and half lided, pupils dilated. your makeup ruined, gloss smushed. she looked at your clothes, completely out of place, bruises on your skin. “let’s go.” she grabbed onto your wrist to pull you along, but you fought her. she growled your name, slowly.
“i’m not going anywhere. i’m having fun.” you slurred, taking a swing of the bottle of alcohol on your hand. your vision was blurry, and your heart was beating too loud. “hey!” you whined when she took it from you and threw it aside, making the glass break. you whistled at her pissed off look. “somebody needs to have a little bit of fun…” you muttered.
“you’ve had enough, i’m taking you home.” her voice was stern, green eyes angry.
“you’re not my dad.” you said, and she smirked.
“yeah. thank god i’m not, ‘cause if he saw you like this, he’d kill you. move.” you rolled your eyes. “don’t be a brat with me. i’m not putting up with that shit. car, now.” she ordered, and you finally moved, walking towards her car.
you hadn’t shared a word on the whole way and you frowned when she kept going straight instead of taking a turn when the street of your neighborhood came to your view. she noticed. “i’m taking you to my house. can’t let your father see you like this.” your stomach jumped at the thought of being alone with her on her beautiful house. you could still remember how soft her bed was, how everything smelled of her. it was making you nervous. you didn’t want to be alone with her. not when she looked this good and you were this drunk and high.
she parked right outside, turning off the engine and getting out of the car. you followed her up the stairs and inside her home, groaning when she turned the lights on and it hit your eyes.
“fuck.”
“what did you take?” she inquired and you giggled.
“what did i not take?” she crossed her arms over her chest and you rolled your eyes. “i don’t know. some weed. cocaine…” she rose one of her hands to pinch the bridge of her nose.
“jesus christ. why the fuck would you do that! are you insane?”
“oh, don’t act as if you hadn’t done it before… we all know shane heart breaker mccutcheon’s reputation.” you scoffed, and she squinted at you.
“and now you want to follow my steps?”
“maybe i do.” you shrugged.
“you’re acting stupid.” she sighed.
“and you’re acting fucking annoying.” you retorted, grabbing at the sides of your head when it throbbed. “ugh you’re making my head hurt.” your legs wobbled and if it weren’t for shane grabbing you, you’d have probably fell onto the floor.
“woah. are you okay?” you shook your head.
“i think… i’m going to…” you clasped your mouth shut with one of your hands and shane’s eyes quickly shot open before she was hurriedly guiding you to the toilet. you fell on your knees, puking your guts out. she grabbed your hair on a make-shift ponytail to make sure that it wouldn’t get dirty. she rubbed your back with her free hand.
“it’s okay, let it go. that’s it.” you groaned, feeling your stomach hurt. you didn’t want her to touch you, not on this state, but at the same time, you just wanted to lean on her touch and forget about everything.
“sorry.” you apologized, not really sure about what, maybe everything. she hushed you.
“it’s okay. don’t worry about it, okay? let it all out.” after a couple of minutes, you felt your dizziness subside, although you were still pretty high. “stay here, alright? i’m gonna go for some clothes you can change into.” you nodded, resting against the cold wall as you took deep breaths.
“fuck.”
you were cringing at the thought of shane seeing you like this, a complete fucking mess, just when she came back to the bathroom with some clothes on her hands.
“come on. let’s get you up.” she offered you her help to get up, hands on your hips to stabilize you as you took off your heels. “do you need help with-“ you shook your head.
“i’m fine.”
“are you sure?”
“shane. i’m fine.” you repeated, harshly, and she nodded. she wanted to understand. if you were acting like this it had to be due to something.
“alright… i’ll… i’ll be outside if you need me.” she nodded, and left the bathroom.
you sighed, leaning on the counter. you looked at the pile of clothes she had left you, and you took them. they were soft, and just as you imagined, they smelled like her.
you pulled over your head your dress, feeling the cold of the bathroom slide into your bones. your skin rose in goosebumps when you slid her shirt on, feeling caged in her and at the same time so free… you were surrounded by shane. and you were ashamed of yourself. you were supposed to be getting over her, not thinking about how much you liked having her on you. you were deep in thought when she knocked on the door. you had already pulled up your legs the shorts she had lent you.
“you okay in there?” she inquired through the other side, and you opened up for her.
“do you have some makeup remover i could use?” you inquired her, shying away from her green deep eyes.
“oh, yeah.” she passed through you, pulling it from the drawers of the sink along with some cotton wipes.
“thank you.” you muttered when she handed it to you.
“no problem.”
there was this… awkward tension in between the two of you. shane didn’t know what to say. she had noticed how lately you’d gone off the rails, but she didn’t really know why. it was your last year of high school. maybe you were just trying to have fun before college…? she was just worried about you.
you took off your makeup, and she stood there with you, cautious in case you felt like getting sick again.
you were still pretty high, although the dizziness of the alcohol had disappeared once you’d gotten it out of your system. suddenly, you felt this knot in your throat. shit. not now.
“hey… are you…? what’s wrong?” you shook your head, wiping away the first tear that fell from your eyes.
“nothing.” you muttered, but she wasn’t having it.
“come on, something must be going on for you to be like this. talk to me, sweetheart.” she pulled you into her arms, rubbing your back as you hid on the crook of her neck. “hm?” she took your face in between her hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks.
“i love you.” you said, and she smiled.
“i love you too, kid.” you shook your head, interrupting her, your hands surrounding her wrists.
“i love you, shane.” she frowned, eyes shooting open in shock when she felt your lips on hers. your eyes were squeezed shut, heart beating harshly against your ribs. it was just a mere touch, two seconds of contact before she was softly pushing you away, breath fanning over your lips. your forehead collided with her chest. “i’m sorry.” you muttered, and shane hugged you, rubbing your back in soft circles. oh, sweet thoughtful shane.
“why don’t we get you in bed, hm?” she inquired, tenderly. she didn’t think too much of it. you were drunk, high and sad. this had all been a slip. a mistake. she had surely had many before. you nodded, and let her guide you to her bedroom. she always let you use her bed when you’d sleep over, using the sofa instead or sometimes sleeping with you when you were younger and would get scared.
“shane?” you inquired her as she made her way to the door.
“yeah?”
“do you think maybe…you could stay?”
she stood silent for a couple of seconds.
“yeah, sure.” she answered, and you moved to make some space for her. she laid on her back, and looked at you. “come here.” you got closer, and leaned on her chest, right above her heart, where you could hear her heartbeat. her hand laced on your hair, rubbing your scalp and brushing it for you to relax —something she has always done since you were little and helped you sleep—. you had to bite down on your lip and swallow your tears.
“good night, shane.” you whispered.
“good night, kid.” she answered.
the next morning. you were gone. and shane didn’t see you again.
-
4 years later…
“there’s my baby girl fresh out of college!!!” you chuckled at your dad’s excitement. you thanked the taxi driver who waved goodbye and started the car to drive away. “oh god, you’ve gotten so big!” you rolled your eyes, hugging him back as he squeezed you against his chest.
“dad… you saw me a couple of months ago!” you laughed and he grunted.
“kids grow so fast…” he sighed, shaking his head and you copied him, rolling your eyes. “come on! let’s get you inside!” he took your suitcase, pulling from it.
four years had passed since the last time you’d stepped on your city, even your house. that night after telling shane you’d loved her, you’d taken the offer one of your friends had given you to work for her during the summer in NY and left LA, later on having enrolled on the local college to continue your education. it was your dad who would come visit you on the holidays, since you’d promised yourself not to come back after you’d finally finished your degree to… disconnect. you needed change. needed to find yourself. and in reality, all of it was a simple excuse. you just needed to get away from shane. you couldn’t look her in the eyes after that night, couldn’t act as if nothing had happened and you hadn’t kissed her. couldn’t ignore the way your whole body had filled with euphoria and your stomach had blown up in butterflies.
so you ran. and did everything in your power to forget all about it. you had made new friends, met new people, dated, broke up, fucked, partied… you’d lived a brand new life away from her. and somehow…, it still felt like something was missing.
“dad… what’s all of this?” you inquired at the amount of snacks and beers decorating the isle of your kitchen. he guiltily smiled and you rose your eyebrows.
“i may of may have not invited some people to throw you a… comeback party?” you groaned.
“dad!”
“i know! but you know your aunt alice! she’s missed you so much… and angelica wouldn’t stop asking for you to bette and tina. so i thought that a little gathering wouldn’t kill anybody…” you sighed. “we’re just happy to have you back home, baby.”
you felt the itch. the need to ask about her. to say her name out loud after all this years. but you fought it.
“you’re right. i’m sorry. i’ve missed them too.” he hugged you again.
“why don’t you take a shower and get ready, hm? i’ll bring your luggage up your room for you. they’ll get here in an hour or so.” you nodded.
“okay. thanks dad.”
-
shane had been shocked to hear the drastic decision you’ve made in moving to new york. you’d packed and left the same day without even saying goodbye. she had tried calling you, of course she had. at least to try and get to know how you were doing over there in that immense city. but it’d always go straight to voice mail. your dad would tell her that it’s because you were real busy with school and your work. so she’d given you space. she had enough knowing through your father that you were alright. though she missed you. you were important for her. she adored you.
the years passed by quicker than she thought. she had taken over a couple of hair salons that now had her name, and sold her photography to great prices, giving her the chance to move to a better apartment. she hadn’t noticed the change that this years supposed for you ‘till she finally got to see you again, four years later.
you weren’t the same little teenager girl she once knew. you had grown up into this beautiful woman with radiant smile and vibrant eyes. you’d gotten a couple more tattoos, she could perfectly see the tramp stamp peeking from your low rise jeans, and outline the bars on your nipples though your tight top. jesus christ. when the hell had you gotten those?
you were wearing a beautiful lip gloss that made your lips pop, and black eyeshadow and waterline in your eyes. your nails were done in a deep shade of red, yet short.
shane had to take a deep breath when you finally noticed her, walking into your house as you took a beer from the kitchen. your dad and the group was outside by the pool, getting ready to eat some meat fresh out from the grill.
she looked good. why did she look so fucking good? and why was your heart going this crazy? for god’s sake, it had been four years already. you were sure you’d finally gotten it under control, but one look at her and those stupid butterflies were back, along with the memory of her soft lips and electrifying touch.
“well if it isn’t new york’s sweetheart…” she said as she finally reached you a smirk on her lips as she leaned on the isle, to what you scoffed. “it’s nice to see you, kid.” her voice was low, and silky. you wanted to groan. she sounded better than you remembered. but instead, you rolled your eyes, leaning on the other side of the isle to get closer.
“i’m not a kid anymore, shane.”
“yeah, i can see that.” she chuckled, eyes training on your body, eyeing you up and down when you turned around and asked:
“want a beer?”
“please.” you opened the fridge once again, bending over to get them from the last shelf, giving her the perfect view of your tattoo and ass. it read: heaven. “thanks.” she said when you handed it to her.
“no problem.” the two of you took a swing form the bottles, fresh beer spilling down your throat. somehow it didn’t help with how hot you were feeling.
“so tell me. how has new york treated you?” she inquired and you shrugged.
“it was alright. kinda busy with college.”
“oh yeah… as if college were everything you’ve been up to, huh?” she teased you, and you chuckled.
“what do you want to know, shane?” you squinted your eyes. “that the parties are amazing there? that the girls are hot?” she smiled.
“yeah, that’s more like it…” she drank again. there was this easy-going atmosphere in between the two of you. you liked it. you thought it would be harsher to face her. but she was shane. how could it be? she always made you feel safe. “see you’ve gotten more tattoos…” her eyes eyes your arms, where some of them stood. “i like them.”
“oh, yeah. have this friend back in the city that would do them for free if she could practice on me.” you laughed, showing them to her. she took your arm, soft fingertips drawing over their lines .
“well, she’s got talent, i’d give you that.” she whistled.
“yeah. taught me how to stick and poke and everything.” you laughed at her shocked expression.
“no fucking way… you tattoo?” you nodded.
“yeah, so if you ever want a new one just hit me up, i still owe you one.”
“true. the hummingbird. how’s it holding?” you pulled down your pants and panties to show it to her, soft skin in display. “might need a little ink.” she hummed, and you pushed your pants back to their spot. you might need something else.
shane tried to ignore the little speck of ink that she saw more towards your center when you pulled your pants down, but it left her with curiosity running through her veins.
you stared at each other, green eyes on yours for a couple of long seconds before she looked away, beer on hand. she couldn’t.
“where’s your dad?” she inquired, and you sighed.
“she’s out by the pool, getting the grill ready.” she nodded.
“see you later?” you nodded, and saw her go outside, being welcomed by her friends.
well… you were fucked.
-
summer in LA was hot. really hot. and shane prancing around your house with one of her wife beaters and tight jeans wasn’t of much help. you could see her arms bulge as she helped your dad put up a new relaxing space on your garden, where he’ll build a wooden ceiling and put up a few couches for you to relax by the pool.
you were currently taking a swim, small black bikini accentuating your perfect body. it was hard to say shane was having a great time.
“hey kid. enjoying the pool?” she inquired, wiping the sweat off her forehead. it was already almost night, the sunset already had been engulfed by the ocean.
you looked up at her, resting against the edge, cleavage on full and exposure.
“really. the water is so refreshing…” you smiled.
“shane!” your father called out for her. “i’m going out to buy some bear. want anything?” he inquired.
“marlboro reds?”
“got it.” she thanked him as he took his keys and left through the main door, leaving the two of you alone. you bit down on your lip at the thought of it.
“hey shane?” you muttered.
“yeah?”
“can i tell you something?”
“anything.” she nodded.
“bend over.” you whispered, and she followed, kneeling on one knee by the pool so she could get closer to you, and just as you were about to part your lips, your wet fingers gripped on her shirt, pulling her inside the pool. she was gasping for air as she came back up to the surface, wiping the water out of her face as you laughed so hard your stomach hurt. “oh god! you should have seen your face!!!”
“oh yeah? you think this is funny?” she chuckled, pointing at her wet clothes. the white wife beater let her nipples show now. you tried not to state too much.
“totally.” you nodded, taking a step back when she step closer.
“com’here.” she ordered, waving her hand.
“nah, i’m cool here.” you laughed, and shrieked when she jumped at you. “no!!”
“oh, so now the princess is begging for mercy, huh?” you sputtered as her fingers tickled you, grabbing at your sides. “how’s that? who’s laughing now, hm?” she muttered as you begged her to stop, trying to get rid of her hold. “yeah, that’s what i thought.” she left you breathless when she finally decided to let you go, although you two were close, your back against the wall of the pool.
you looked at her, and chuckled slightly at the messy state of her hair, which now stood completely drenched hiding her eyes and getting all over her face.
“what?”
“your hair. is… wait. let me.” your soft fingertips made contact with the skin of her face, pushing away the strands and behind her ear.
“thanks.” she muttered.
“you’re welcome.” you two stared at each other, realizing just how close you were. your eyes drifted to her chest, which rose and lowered in deep breaths, her perky nipples hard against the white of her tank top.
she stared at you. at your long eyelashes, flushed cheeks due to the lack of air and laughter and your glossy plump lips. somehow you two just ended closer, the hands that had tickled you still on your hips, burning your skin. your eyes met, and after a couple of seconds she looked away, clearing your throat and letting go of you, leaving you freezing.
“fuck. now i’m completely drenched.” she looked at her clothes.
“you could borrow some of mine.” you shrugged, and she scoffed. “what? i’m sure some of my clothes will fit you, shane. or do you want to get your leather seats wet?”
“fuck no.” her nose wrinkled up, and you chuckled.
“just what i thought.” you muttered, swimming towards the stairs and dipping your hair underneath the water one more time before getting out the pool. shane tried really hard to not stare at the perfect view of your ass. your dad would kill her. your dad will kill her. why was she even staring at you this way? for gods sake she had seen you grow up…
you turned around, and she quickly looked you in the eyes. “you coming or not.”
oh for sure.
“yeah.” she said before following after you.
-
“are you sure you know how to do this shit?” she inquired for like the eleventh time, and you rolled your eyes. “hey, i just want to make sure you don’t fuck it up, alright? i’ll live with it for the rest of my life.”
“shane, i’m positive. you’re not the first person i tattoo, alright?” you promised, getting the needles and ink ready.
“cool. cool.” she nodded, laying on your bed. your room stood frozen in your teenage years, full of books and pictures and posters. you even had your favorite music records (at least the ones you’ve had to leave behind for college). it gave you this nostalgic feeling that you couldn’t shake off your bones. your father was out with some of his friends, and you and shane had ended up meeting up to tattoo each other. “but-“ she tried and sit back up, but you pushed her down, pointing one of your fingers at her.
“shut the fuck up.” you ordered, and she rose her hands.
“okay.”
she was going for a simple design. a scorpion on her forearm. you’d done some before, so it would be easy. you’d also made a stencil for her, so you would be fine.
you prepped and disinfected everything, putting on your gloves. “okay. where do you exactly want it?” you inquired her, and she pointed at the place where she thought would look best and you nodded, placing the stencil there to let her see if she’d like it.
“yeah, i like it.” you nodded once again.
“alright. then i guess we’re ready. it won’t take a lot, if it hurts too much just let me know and we’ll take a break.” she scoffed.
“who do you think i am?” she sassily inquired and you rolled your eyes.
“hope you choke on your words, mccutcheon.” you shook your head, taking her arm and leaning over to start tattooing her.
“huh, you wish.” she smirked, taking a glimpse of your cleavage. she breathed deeply, squeezing her eyes shut. come on shane. focus.
those fucking nipple piercings… shit. no. don’t think about that.
you noticed her silence and you decided to check up on her.
“you alright?”
“hm?” she seemed distracted. how couldn’t she be? “oh yeah. don’t worry.” of course it wasn’t like she were thinking about your tits. absolutely not. “so… had any girlfriends in new york?” yeah, let’s change the subject.
you sighed and shrugged. “i mean… not really. messed up around but never got serious, you know what i mean?” she smirked, surprised.
“do tell…” you chuckled, playfully hitting her on the arm.
“what about you?” you inquired, trying to not sound so interested. although you were. you truly were.
“could say the same. you know me.” you nodded, and hid your excitement. so she was single.
she stared at you as you worked. fuck. you were so beautiful. new york had changed you so much. you had always been, but now, there was this… something about you she couldn’t put her finger on. she just knew she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you. and that was no good.
“okay. i’m done.” you smiled, wiping over the tattoo to stare at the end result.
“now that’s amazing.” she whistled, taking a look at it. it hadn’t hurt at all.
“told you…” you muttered and she scoffed.
“oh i’m sorry for being scared, you’re the first kid i let near me with a needle.” you rolled your eyes. there was that nickname again. kid.
did she really still looked at you like one?
she noticed your silence.
“hey. you okay?” you pushed away her touch, nodding.
“yeah, i’m fine.” no you were not. what the hell did you have to do for shane to look at you? would it always be like this? will you always be running after her? “so… you up for retouching my tattoo?” you asked and she nodded.
“yeah, sure. could i borrow your gun, though? i’m not that good at stick and poke.” you gave it to her, along with some ink, gloves and new needles.
you got up from your seat, unbuckling your pants. shane tried to not look at you as you pushed them down your thighs, leaving you in a pretty lace pair of panties. her eyes continuously drifted from you to the tattoo gun as you sat on your bed, legs spread as she sat in front of you. there was no comfortable way she could tattoo you in your room, and having her in between your legs, leaning over and so close to your barely clothed center somehow felt more intimate than the first time around. she looked at you as her fingertips made contact with the skin of your hip bone, carefully pulling your panties down just the slightest to disinfect the zone. your cheeks were burning up when her soft low voice caught your attention. “you ready?” you nodded. “alright. if you need me to stop just say the word.” and then there was the buzzing of the tattoo gun and that burning feeling of the needle breaking your skin. you hissed. you knew it was a sensitive spot, but you always forgot how sensitive.
you thanked god the tattoo was small, ‘cause you couldn’t really look at shane too much without thinking about things you shouldn’t be thinking about. she looked so good in between your legs, hair falling messily in her eyes, tongue sticking out and glossing her lips in concentration. the things you’ve thought about that tongue, the nights you’ve imagined her in this same exact position but with less clothing. this was turning you on. it shouldn’t be turning you on.
“fuck.” you groaned. and she looked at you.
“you’re doing good, just hold on a little bit more for me, alright?” you almost moaned. fuck. and now she was praising you. one particular harsh swipe of the needle almost had you gripping her hair. you could feel her breathing against your skin.
this was all too much.
“shane…” you sighed, your hips twitching upwards involuntarily due to the pain.
“i know baby, i know. i’m halfway there.”
you tried to hold in the need to move, but it hurt, and you were getting horny. there wasn’t much you could do. at one particular point, she had to harshly grip your hip with her free hand, pushing you against the duvet. “don’t move.” she ordered, and you bit down on your lip. holy fuck. this looked so much like those dreams you’d have about her…
you could feel your pussy throbbing.
shane was trying her best to keep her composure. but jesus christ, you were writhing under her, letting out this little pained sounds and you were just in a pair of panties and a tank top. it was making it hard for her. you were making it hard for her.
the room was sticky with tension. she could see the peeking of your pubic hair since she had pulled your underwear down, and your skin was so soft…
focus. focus. focus.
but then…
fuck. you were wet. you were soaked.
her green eyes met the wet patch forming on your panties, and she forgot what she was supposed to be doing. hell, she even forgot the fact that you were her best friend’s daughter.
you perked up at the feeling of her stoping with the tattoo.
“shane?” you called out for her, and then you were letting out this sound in between a moan and a gasp when you felt her fingers pushing in between your lips and over the cloth, slowly, teasingly. “oh fuck. what are you doing?” you gasped in a whisper, your hips rutting against her touch. she smirked.
“me? i’m not doing anything.” she looked at you, and slowly leaned closer to you, leaving this soft peck on your thigh. you shuddered. “tell me to stop…” she whispered. it was more like a begging. she needed you to tell her that this was wrong. that she shouldn’t be touching you right now. that it was a really stupid idea. she was your dad’s best friend. and yet…
“i can’t…” your hand laced on her hair when she started softly kissing your skin, lip in between your teeth. you wanted her. you’ve wanted her for so long… “please…”
you whimpered when her fingers bumped against your throbbing and sensitive clit, your hips bucking against her touch. “what’s this, hm?” your cheeks were beet red, thighs trembling under her green stare. “tell me baby, this all for me?” she inquired, leaving a wet kiss on your thigh and you nodded, muttering a ‘yes’ that had her short of breath.
your back arched when she kissed you on top of your panties, her tongue licking the arousal that dampened the lace. at the same time, her hands grabbed at the seam of your panties, slowly pulling them down your hips and thighs. that’s when she finally caught a glimpse of that tattoo that she had barely seen the day of your party. it was above your mound. and it said: ‘lucky you’.
shane smirked, chuckling. “lucky me…” your cheeks reddened, but all shyness and embarrassment disappeared when her fingers dipped in between your drooling folds, connected by strings of your arousal. shane felt her mouth watering. “such a pretty pussy.” you felt so exposed, but at the same time you just wanted to open up your legs for her, let her see every little crevice of you.
you let out this pornographic sweet moan when her tongue draw a long fat strip from your entrance to your clit, softly suckling on it and making your thighs squeeze her head, what made her groan and bury her face deeper into your pussy.
“fuck…” you cried out, your hands meeting her short messy dark hair, tugging at it. why did it felt so good?
she pushed your legs over her shoulders, her warm hands on your thighs as she sucked on your clit, sticking her tongue out for you to ride her face when you’d hump against her. that was until you felt one finger prodding against your hole, easily pushing inside your tight and warm walls due to how wet you were. “that’s it. open up for me, doll.” she hummed when you whimpered, starting to thrust it in and out of you, your arousal thick and white on her knuckles as you thrusted yourself on her finger and mouth.“taste so good…” she couldn’t get enough, eating you like a starved woman.
“shane.” you whined when she added her ring finger, stretching you out. and how could she resist when you sounded so sweet moaning her name? she just wanted to get more of those sounds out of you, make you cum over and over again until the only thing you could remember was her name.
she groaned. “look at you, fuck. so fucking pretty. what would your dad think, hm? her little girl letting his best friend fuck her like this.” you moaned, pulling from her hair. “oh you liked that, huh? like the idea of your daddy catching me with my tongue on your cunt, baby?” you blushed, embarrassed to like the idea of it, the adrenaline rushing through your veins making the pleasure enhance. her fingers constantly hitting your g spot had you so close to the edge… “of course you do…” she smirked, sucking on your clit. you cried out her name, your hips pushing against her mouth. “you close, princess?” you nodded, biting down on your lip. “cum for me, baby. cum on my face. i’ll clean it all up for you.” she muttered, licking at your folds before latching onto your clit. your back arched. that encouragement being all you needed to fall apart, thighs shaking as your high hit you like a tidal wave with a high pitched moan. she groaned at the taste of your white creamy cum on her tongue, lapping at it in need, the wet sounds of her tongue pushing into you and licking in between your lips filling your room. she kept finger-fucking you to help you ride off your orgasm, sucking at your clit to extend it.
you swore you could see stars on your room’s ceiling, thighs shaking and breathing ragged. it had been the best orgasm of your life.
shane finished cleaning you up, swallowing every last bit of your cum before pulling her fingers out of you and pushing them inside your mouth. her green eyes met yours as you cleaned them for her. and you could just think about the fact that you had just fucked your dad’s best friend.
and how much you wanted to do it again…
-
a/n; 😶‍🌫️
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meowsforyujin · 9 months ago
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tattoo artist- Leeknow
(Warnings: smut! Leeknow x reader, slight age gap, oral, unprotected sex but reader is on the pill, tattoo gun, hair pulling, mentions of pain, semi public sex, good old fashion doggy style 😛😛)
Summary: leeknow is your tattoo artist that you’ve been crushing on for a while, but he’s never made a move. So obviously, you decide to get a tattoo in a slightly scandalous spot and inevitably things get steamy
——————————————————————
You sit on the chair eagerly, holding the piece of paper in your hand. It’s been 15 minutes since you came, where is he?
“Are you nervous?” you swear you feel your whole demeanor change when you hear his voice.
You scoff, “Have I ever been nervous?”
“You were the first time.” Minho smirks playfully.
You don’t remember the first time as vividly as he does. He remembers it as if it was yesterday.
He remembers his world stopping when you walked in. You were so captivating to him. You wore a leather skirt with fishnets, and a cropped tank top that complimented your belly button piercing. Your hair was black and blonde at the time, roots grown out but still pretty. Your eyes were starry and nervous, showing the design you wanted on your left arm for the first tattoo you’d ever gotten. You were shy at first, but then opened up pretty quickly, talking his ear off. Explaining how long you had wanted a tattoo, and it was hard to narrow down the choices for your first one. He knew you’d be back after proclaiming your love and interest in tattoos, but he didn’t expect so soon. You’d come back a week later for another. It was then when you told him you were excited to start college the following week. All his possible plans on asking you out vanished with that, given that you were 18 and he was 22 at the time.
Well it’s three years later, and who knows how many times you’ve been here. Minho expected to have a fun time like usual, chatting away with you, also expecting the familiar disappointment that would follow when you left. What he DIDN’T expect was you wanting a tattoo on your chest that required your shirt to be off.
“Um, well you’d need to take your shirt off..do you want me to get a girl to do this instead?” He hoped you didn’t see how red his ears were.
“No, why would I? I trust you the most, and it’s not like I’m getting naked or anything”
Yet.
He hesitantly nods, instructing you shyly to remove your shirt. This usually wouldn’t be a problem, since Minho finds himself mature. But his attraction towards you is what stands out among the rest of the customers. And he feels guilty for it, given the age gap. You’re 21 and he’s 25, which doesn’t seem that big of a deal to most but the fact that he’s known you since you were technically a teenager amplifies his guilt.
Despite his worries, and your black lace bra, things weren’t very awkward. You both talked as usual, enjoying the time you had since it had been a while. I mean, it's been three years and they're only so many tattoos you want, so inevitably your visits have slowed down over the years. At some point in your rambling, you ask, “Have you ever had a psychotic ex girlfriend?”
He simply shakes his head. “Oh really? Not even like a jealous one?”
“I’ve never had a girlfriend.” He states as if it’s the most normal thing for a gorgeous 25 year old man to have never had a girlfriend.
“YOU WHAT?” you could not contain your shock.
He chuckles softly, “Why so surprised?” He’s still focused on his task at hand.
“Well for starters, you’re gorgeous, and also you’re kind and funny, what else would anyone want?” His laugh was breathier than he wanted it to be, and you definitely catch the pink hue dusting his cheeks.
“Maybe, but I’m also a tattoo artist who didn’t graduate college.”
“I think the tattoo artist thing is dreamy.” You pause, “And hot.”
His breath audibly hitches. “I, thank you.”
Truth is you’ve been pining after Minho for forever. You flirt with him constantly, and it obviously has an effect on him, so you assumed he had a girlfriend since he never made a move. But even so, you always secretly hoped he was single. And maybe you let your delusions get the best of you, because you scheduled the latest appointment possible, and picked your most flattering bra for him to see. Your plaid skirt was short too, knee high socks complimenting your thighs.
“Any plans or ideas for the next tattoo?” Minho asks, desperate to change the subject.
“I dunno, I’m kinda running out of ideas.”
“Damn, I’d miss my favorite customer.”
“Well, maybe we should go for coffee sometime?” He pauses his movements, obviously flustered, but also deep in thought of what his response should be.
“You know I can’t, but I’m flattered regardless.” Minho failed to hide his disappointment in his voice.
“Why, can’t date customers or what?”
He laughs a bit, “No, have you seen this place? We don’t really have rules.”
You laugh with him, “Okay so why? Am I not pretty or?”
That wasn’t very funny to him. “No, you’re breathtaking.” He knows he shouldn’t have said that, yet he doesn’t feel a single trace of regret. “It’s just, the age gap.” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Aren’t you 25?”
“Yeah.”
You couldn’t help giggling at him. “Oh please Minho, I’ve been on dates with way older than you.” His eyes dart up at you. “What? How much older?”
You shrug, “Doesn’t matter, go out with me?”
He turns off the tattoo gun and sets it next to him, deep in thought.
You suddenly wrap your legs around him to bring him closer, “Please?”, you watch his eyes flutter shut as you comb his hair with your fingers. You didn’t dare make another move. You needed him to take the next step. He caught on to this quickly, given the fact that you’ve had your fingers and legs wrapped around him for what felt like forever, and have made no further effort to act on the obvious tension between the two of you. Despite your persuasion, he still felt guilty. But his judgment was clouded by your hot breath fanning his cheeks.
You nearly zone out taking in his features, but quickly brought back by Minho closing the gap between the two of you.
His lips were so soft. He kissed just like he did his tattoos, calm and precise, concentrated on doing everything the best way possible. He bites your bottom lip softly, granting himself access to push his tongue in your mouth. He tastes so sweet it was insane.
You whine softly, tugging at his shirt. Minho pulls away from you for a second, pulling off his shirt, then quickly attaching his lips once more. His lips trail down your jaw towards your neck as you whimper. You hiss when his chest accidentally comes in contact with your new (unfinished) tattoo.
He pulls away worried, “Sorry, did I hurt you?”’
You shyly shake your head, “I liked it.” He raises his eyebrows at you, “I liked the pain, feels nice.” He stares at you, his concerned expression morphing into a devilish smirk.
“Oh really?” He touches you again, groping your breast slightly, barely pressing against the tattoo but still enough to cause a pleasurable thrill.
Minho kisses you again but with much more force this time, biting your lip rather harshly, earning a deep moan from you. His hand slowly inches up your thighs teasingly, searching for the hem of your underwear. He pulls away abruptly to look at you, and then pulls your skirt up. He scoffs when he finds that you indeed were not wearing anything under your skirt.
“You’re crazy.” He laughs, shaking his head, not really trying to hide that his face was bright ass red.
“I’m crazy for you.” you pull him closer, missing his lips on yours. He shakes his head in disapproval, “Cringe.”, you look at him in disbelief, about to protest but immediately distracted by his hand reaching down to cup your heat. You feel yourself beginning to fall apart for him right then and there.
“You're so wet.” He flashes you a toothy grin while running his fingers up and down your folds. You don’t respond, too focused on the fact that his hands were finally touching you, and this wasn’t a dream.
You’d often daydream about his hands alone. You loved staring at his hands while he held that tattoo gun, veiny and big, and precise in every movement. You’d think about all the ways his hands could move precisely, and not with the tattoo gun.
Your thoughts are cut short when Minho's head is in between your legs. “Fuck.”, you whisper, the way his dough eyes are looking up at you, half for consent and half for amusement was enough to make you finish right there. Nonetheless, you power through.
Minho licks a long, slow stripe up your folds. When he meets your clit, he circles his tongue slowly over it, before going back down to tease your entrance.
The way he eats you out is heaven. He uses a kissing motion around your clit, rather than just applying pressure or sucking on it (he does that too). You whine, pushing his face impossibly closer to you, tugging at his hair begging him to keep going. Your legs shake as you feel your high approaching, Minho gets the message and speeds up his actions. Out of nowhere he pushes in a finger, pumping it in and out of you quickly. This tips you over the edge and before you know it your thighs are shaking violently, closing around his head as you cum with a silent cry, back arched in the air.
Minho cleans you up with his tongue, ignoring your whines from overstimulation. Eventually he stops and looks up at you, and fuck if it isn’t the prettiest sight you’ve ever seen. His lips parted, pupils blown out, and you don’t miss your juices dripping down his chin. His lustful gaze is working you up all over again.
You pull him into another heating kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. You hand trails down to his hard on, palming him softly. He groans deeply into the kiss, playing with the clasp of your bra until it falls off your shoulders. Minho pulls from this kiss to peel the rest of your bra off, letting out a shaken exhale staring at your bare chest. It’s not long before he has his lips wrapped around your nipple and his hand around your other breast. You enjoy this for a moment, before playing with his belt until you manage to get it off.
You stand up, taking Minho by surprise. He almost thought you were leaving until you get on your knees. His breath is shaky and he watches you pulling out his member. You practically drool at the sight of it. It wasn't too long, but longer than most. And what he didn’t have in length was made up for by how fucking thick it was. You wrap your hand around it, pumping steadily.
Soon enough, you take him all in your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. Luckily he did not notice your impatience, too immersed in the feeling of your mouth around him. You bob your head up and down on him, alternating between swirling your tongue around his tip and sucking it. He eventually begins thrusting his hips, meeting your bobbing motions until you feel him twitch in your mouth and he pulls you off him. You can’t help but pout up at him and he just chuckles, pulling you off the ground. He kisses you briefly before bending you over the tattoo chair.
You whimper as he teases your folds, dragging his cock up and down them. You feel his tip teasing your entrance, your cunt leaking in anticipation.
“Wait,” he breaths, “Do you have a condom?”
“No? Why would I have a condom? You're the guy here.”
“Yeah well you’re the one who expected this to happen!”
“I did not!”
“You literally didn’t wear any underwear.”
“I’m on the pill.”
You hear him sigh, “Are you sure?”
“Minho just fuck me already before I ride you instead.”
Despite your affirmation, he was still hesitant. Pushing in as slowly as possible, your warm cunt enveloping him earns a somewhat high pitched moan from him.
You want to tease him, you really do, but you’re already a fucking mess and he hasn’t moved. The stretch is absolutely delicious, and he’s reaching every spot perfectly.
He begins moving steady, hands gripping your hips. You’re loud and he loves it. Your moans encouraging him to move faster, he builds up his pace. “Fuck fuck fuck! Like that please!” You babble, already feeling your consciousness slip away.
“Mmm you like it rough right? You like it when I fuck you dumb?.” you can only nod, incredibly turned on by his words.
Knock knock.
You both pause, and you feel reality coming back to you when you hear a voice from the other side of the door.
“Hey Minho, sorry to interrupt.”
Fuck. It had completely slipped your mind that yeah maybe there weren't really any other customers there but there were obviously workers. And you recognized her voice, it was Yuri, the one who always answered your calls and scheduled your appointments. God this was embarrassing.
“I’m leaving for the day, so if you could lock up when you’re uh, done, that’d be great.”
You could not be more mortified in this moment.
“Okay sounds good, thanks Yuri.” Minho yells from the other side.
You both wait until you hear the bell from the front door, indicating she had left.
“Oh my god that’s so embarrassing.” You whine, burying your face further in the chair. Minho laughs in disbelief, “You wore no underwear and THAT'S embarrassing?”
all you do is whine and mumble a ‘shut up’ before he’s fucking you again without warning, this time pulling your hair. You yelp at the sting, eyes rolling back to your head.
“Thought you wanted an audience baby? Thought you wanted everyone to know I was fucking you so well?” You can’t respond, you're too close to your climax already. Minho takes note of this and picks up the pace, thrashing into you without mercy.
“Oh my god I’m so close please!” You cry, tears of pleasure spilling down your cheeks. Minho just grunts, snaking his fingers down under you to rub your clit.
You see white as you cum for the second time tonight, walls clamping down on Minho, causing him to cum shortly after you.
You both lay there for a while, catching each other's breath. You jolt up when you hear him walking away, fearing that he was going to leave, only to find him returning with a warm towel to clean you up. You’re silent as he cleans you up, just watching him with adoration.
“So,” he clears his throat, “Should we go somewhere now?”
You smile, “My place?”
He chuckles, “I was thinking dinner?”
-AHH I had sm fun writing this!! Expect a sequel bc omg I cannot stop thinking ab tattoo artist bf lee know? Like? Anywaysss pls lmk your thoughts! I’m not great at writing but I love to do it, so I’d rlly like tips on how I can improve!!
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slut4thebroken · 8 months ago
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Home Improvements
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Emmett x wife!reader
Summary | Emmett does yard work while you’re outside tanning and you (both) get a little needy.
Warnings | Smut, semi public sex, humiliation, exhibitionism, a lil degradation, breeding, slight age gap, they’re so cute it kinda makes me sick lol.
Words | 1.8 k
Notes | I’ve been wanting to write some consensual Emmett stuff for a while so thank you to the anon who sent an ask to @kiss-me-cill-me who ended up tagging me🤭
Ao3 link | <3
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(Ignore the fact that idk how lawn mowers work lmaooo)
You were laying down on a lawn chair in your favorite bikini, sunglasses on and book in hand, but you weren’t reading anymore. You were completely focused on Emmett. The top two buttons of his shirt were left open and his already short sleeves were rolled up a little, showing even more of his muscles and tattoo in a way that made your mouth water. 
When you noticed he was standing still, you forced yourself to pay attention and realized he was looking at you. “What?” You called out. The engine of the lawn mower was still on, but it was quieter now that he wasn’t moving it. 
“I asked if it’s too loud.” Your heart fluttered a little— he’s always so considerate. 
“No it’s okay. Thank you for checking though.” You were out here first so of course he wanted to make sure he wasn’t disturbing your tanning/reading time. 
You continued watching him. Occasionally he’d stop and remove his hat to wipe the sweat from his forehead, but he was getting through it pretty quickly, much to your displeasure. 
“Hey, Emmett?” You yelled, hoping he heard you with how far he was. He paused, turning toward you, and when you waved him over, he obeyed instantly.
“Yeah?” 
“Aren't you kind of hot? It’s like 80 degrees out today.” You said casually, confusing him. 
“A little, I guess.” He shrugged. 
“Maybe you should take your shirt off. Feeling the breeze really helps.” You suggested, glancing down at your mostly nude body to show that you weren’t completely bullshitting that excuse. He chuckled quietly and shook his head a little, looking away from you with a small smile. 
“Sure, baby.” You knew that he knew exactly what you were doing, but you didn’t care. You got what you wanted and that’s all that matters. He started unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, then tossed it onto the second lawn chair. Since he already knew, you decided to close your book and put it on the small table in between both chairs. 
“You know, it also might help if you work a little slower too. Going fast means using more effort, and that means getting hotter quicker.” You knew it was grasping at straws and completely cheesy, but he scoffed a laugh and played along. 
“Good point. Any other suggestions?” 
“None that don’t involve public indecency.” You said teasingly and he chuckled again before walking back over to the lawn mower to continue. You could see now that his torso was glistening with a light sheen of sweat, only getting you more worked up. 
There was something so incredibly hot about watching your husband do completely mundane, domestic tasks like mowing the lawn and barbecuing. He also had a really bad habit of doing home self improvements… so at any given time, there was at least one part of the house that was unfinished. The plus side to his love of home diy’s was that he’d build you things for the house, like extra storage in a weird space where nothing could really fit, or a new table after you accidentally spilled paint all over it and couldn’t get it off. 
You frowned when he turned the lawn mower off and started walking over to you. “It looks amazing, honey.” You smiled, shamelessly eyeing his body as he sat down on the chair next to yours. You offered him your glass of ice water which he took eagerly, gulping down more than half of it in one go. “You know, I think you deserve a reward for doing such a good job.” Honestly, it was more a reward for you being able to sit here for half an hour without jumping his bones. 
“You hate when I’m all sweaty.” You could tell that he wanted whatever you were offering though. 
“Yeah… but that just gives us an excuse to have round two in the shower.” You smirked and his lips curled up into a small smile. 
“Come here.” He said as he laid back in the lawn chair, letting you climb onto his lap. His hands settled on your hips as you took off your glasses and his hat before finally kissing him. Your arms draped over his shoulders, letting you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. When he pulled back, you whined quietly. “I don’t think I can do yard work while you’re tanning anymore. I’ve been hard since I walked out here.” You choked out a laugh, then started grinding on his bulge, making his breath catch in his throat. 
“I agree. I’ve been wet since you started mowing.” You leaned down to kiss him again, still grinding your hips, and his hands dragged up your sides to cup your breasts, making you moan quietly. When he pulled your bikini down to rest below them, you let out a gasp that turned into a mewl when he leaned forward and sucked your nipple into his mouth. “Fuck- Emmett…” You said through a breath, tightening your grip on his hair. “People might see.” Even though you were in the backyard that had a wood fence all the way around the perimeter, there was still a chance. 
“Thought you said I deserve a reward.” He grumbled, moving to your other nipple to suck and nip at it teasingly. “And I want to fuck my wife on my own property. I don’t give a shit if someone sees.” You knew that wasn’t true. You’d have to stop him from commiting a felony if someone accidentally saw your body because of how jealous and possessive he could be. 
“I’m gonna be pissed if we get in trouble with the HOA.” A few years ago, you never would’ve imagined that you’d be married, living in a suburban house, worried about the HOA. Despite your words, you started snaking your hands down his chest and stomach to his belt. You managed to unbuckle it, even with how close your bodies were, then you opened his pants and took out his cock, stroking him to full hardness. 
“Fuck.” He hissed, kissing up your chest to your neck, then sucking the skin into his mouth to leave a mark. “Need you, doll.” He whispered, hips bucking up toward your hand, desperately seeking out your tight, warm cunt. Since you were just as desperate, you quickly pulled your bikini bottoms to the side and sunk down on his cock, making both of you moan. You sat down on him completely, then paused, needing to let yourself adjust. 
When his hands snaked around to your back and tugged on the string of your bikini, you gasped and tried to keep the fabric from moving away— at least with it below your breasts, you could quickly cover yourself if needed. Emmett didn’t seem to care about that though as he pulled it over your head then threw it somewhere to the side. 
“Fuck..” You said through a breath. The risk was making you infinitely needier and as you continued to get more turned on, you started to care less about someone possibly seeing. 
“Come on, baby. Give me my reward.” He gruffed. As if your body was completely under his command, you started rocking your hips, warming yourself up a little. You cried out when he suddenly slapped your ass. “You know what I want.” His voice was much harsher now, making it clear that this was a demand, not a request. So you started bouncing up and down on his lap, forcing moans out of both of you. “That’s it… Be a good little wife and use that greedy cunt to please my cock.” He groaned, slapping your ass again before moving his hands up to grope your tits. You were starting to sweat now as you panted, quickly heating up from the exertion. 
Getting bolder, he suddenly reached for the strings on both hips, then quickly pulled to untie them. “Emmett..” You warned— being completely nude was way too risky.  
“We can move this to the front yard if you’d prefer.” He threatened, making you falter. When you gave up on trying to stop him, he smirked and removed the fabric, leaving you fully bare. “What would people say, honey?” He murmured mockingly. “If they knew that you liked riding me in public, in broad daylight, without wearing any clothes.” 
“Emmett…” You whined, his words making you needier. 
“Oh, I know, baby… I know.” He cooed, brushing your hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek. “You can’t help being a whore, but it’s okay because you’re my whore. Isn’t that right?” 
“Yes.” You mewled, desperately moving your hips, chasing your release. 
“Say it.” His hands settled on your hips and he held you still, then started bucking up into you. 
“I’m your whore, Emmett.” You whined with a blush. He moved one hand to smack your ass as a warning, then immediately put it back on your hip. “I’m your whore!” You cried out, much louder this time. “Fuck— please make me come.” 
“Wait just a little longer, doll, I’m almost there.” He said breathily, tightening his grip on your hips almost painfully and bucking up into you so fast, you had to bite your lip to keep from screaming. Your breasts were moving embarrassingly with how hard he was pounding you, only furthering your humiliation… which only brought you closer to the edge. 
“Emmett.. please, I can’t hold it.” You whimpered, clinging to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself. 
“Go ahead, sweet girl…” He said through a breath. “Come for me.” You reached down to rub your clit and when your orgasm crashed over you, Emmett quickly lifted a hand to cover your mouth, muffling what would’ve been a mix of a scream and a moan. You stared down at him with furrowed brows as your body trembled with each wave of pleasure that rolled through you. 
He cursed under his breath when your orgasm made your cunt squeeze his cock almost too tight, sending him over the edge as well. You only had to endure the overstimulation for a few seconds while he continued bucking up into you, riding it out. His grunts and breathy moans were creating a new pool of arousal in your stomach, but he was done before he could get you worked up all over again. 
When he relaxed his grip, you accidentally sunk down all the way, making you both wince from the sensitivity. You were still panting and Emmett was in a similar state, but he snaked his hand around to the back of your neck and pulled you down into a kiss anyway. It was short, but still deep and passionate, leaving you even more breathless. 
“I’m going to look into building higher walls for the fence so you can start tanning naked.” His lips were curled up into a poorly concealed smirk. “Just so you don’t get tan lines, obviously...” He said coyly, making you laugh. 
I think I want to write more for them cause I really like their dynamic so send me some ideas <3
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enhypens-hoe · 1 year ago
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milf (teaser!!) - Jeon Jungkook
🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨
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🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪🍨🍪
(pics. from pinterest but I made the banner myself)
pairing: hot neighbor!nonidol Jungkook x female milf reader
genre: smut, one-shot, age gap (32 and 24) hot neighbor
summary: You and your husband Hoseok have a 6 year-old. You want your marriage with Hoseok to work out but he’s making it difficult. Even throughout these hard times you would not change your life for the world. Well.. what happens when you find out you have a new neighbor but to your surprise he was truly the hottest man you have ever seen.
warnings: cursing, cheating, smut, not much aftercare :/ (tbh jk can’t rlly shower her with love because they choose to have sex at the worst times so he just cleans her quickly sorryyy), breast play, riding (car sex), ass slapping (light), unprotected sex (please use protection), kind of mean dom! jk, sub!reader, bj, doggy style (hitting from the back), slightly possessive jk? dirty talk, age gap, breeding, mention of pregnancy (reader does not get pregnant), pet names, hair tugging, use of (slut, whore, etc.)
ft: le sserafim's Yun-jin (she's aged up to 32) & BTS J-hope (he’s aged up to 33)
Milf -Jjk
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“Have you seen him?!” your best friend Yunjin shouts in your ear while pushing her cart. You two were out grocery shopping while the kids were in school. Yunjin decided to join since she was off of work.
Yunjin and you have been best friends from 2nd grade up until college and after that. You guys met your husbands in college, but Yunjin got divorced last year. Yunjin got pregnant around the same time as you and moved next door. You couldn’t be happier. Her son and your son are best friends I know it’s cliche but whatever. Apparently, we have a new neighbor and according to her he is very attractive. Piercings, tattoos, muscles, he has a motorcycle, can cook, etc. he has it all. She caught a glimpse of him when she came to pick up her son Chul from his playdate with Eun-Woo and she won’t stop drooling over him.
"No actually I haven't. I have been so busy with Eun-Woo starting school I haven't even introduced myself." you say scrunching your eyebrows still recovering by Yunjin's shouting. You weren't very convinced that your new neighbor was as hot as Yunjin was making it seem. "And let me remind you I'm married remember?" you announce as you show her your hand wiggling the finger that the diamond sat on.
Yunjin rolled her eyes lightly smacking your hand away. "Right, I forgot... whatever, this guy has the moms all over him. They are going after him like he's some piece of meat." Yunjin pouts wishing she got some time alone to talk to Jungkook. "And you aren't going after him... for his meat?" She side eyes you while you're looking for cereal. "I'm telling you ___ he's exactly your type and if you don't believe me just introduce yourself besides its the friendly neighbor thing to do." she said as she had a small smile on her face.
"I don't know Yunjin maybe if I get the time I can meet your next husband" you whisper to her as you both laugh.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
You get home and place your bags down in the kitchen. You look up and see the time on the stove. 1:00pm… you still had an hour and forty minutes until Eun-Woo got out of school. You hear light talking coming from down the hall so Hoseok must be home in his office. You don't even bother telling him you are home because he hasn't been paying attention to you anyway.
Yunjin was right it wouldn't hurt to greet your new neighbor. The last thing you want is to seem rude and be the only one who has not introduced yourself to him. So, you made chocolate chip cookies since it would be wrong to go empty handed. You walked towards Jungkook’s house with the container in your hand slightly nervous.
You lifted your fist ready to knock but the door swung open before you could. "Hi l'm-oh" Your eyes slightly widened as you looked up at him. He towered over you wearing a white fitted short sleeve shirt which exposed his arm tattoos and muscles. He had black fluffy hair and a lip piercing. You could see the outline of his abs through the shirt and his big doe eyes were so pretty looking down at you.
“Hey…” he spoke with a small smirk plastered on his face. You were not being very discreet when checking him out. It’s not like he was hiding the way he was looking at your boobs either. “Oh Hi... I’m sorry I just.. um I wanted to introduce myself I live right across from you I’m ___. I made you these.” You say softly while sticking out the container. He smiled at you looking at the container then back at you. His smile is so nice holy fuck. “Thank you so much. My hands are dirty so I can't grab the container. Would you mind coming in?” he asked. You shouldn’t, you know you shouldn't go in it's clear that he thinks you're attractive and well you think he is too.. it's just wrong. “Sure.”
“Great thank you. You can put the cookies on the counter I’m going to wash my hands.” he told you letting you walk in first. His place was organized it was way different than you expected. He walked over to his sink and started washing his hands. His hands are even attractive what the fuck.
Yunjin was right... he's exactly your type. shit…
“Why are your hands so dirty.” you ask trying to make small talk. He looks up at you for a moment then nods his head to the direction of the window. You see the black motorcycle with his initials written on the side in a small cursive font. “I’m fixing it. Somethings wrong with the pipe.” Wiping his hands on a small cloth... he still had something black smeared on his jaw and a little on his arm, but you didn't say anything. He walked over to you and stood quiet for a bit.
“Are you doing anything today?” He questioned analyzing your face. You tried to look somewhere else. You didn’t want to make eye contact with him feeling nervous under his gaze. “I have to pick up my son Eun-Woo from school in forty minutes and cook” you admit.
“Oh, you’re a mom huh.” he’s not really asking its more of a statement. The look on his face shockingly does not show any signs of disappointment. “Do you have a husband? I haven’t seen him with you.” he pushes.
“Yea I do. We just… we aren’t going through the best time right now that's all. It happens to a lot of people though.” you tell him trying to reassure yourself realizing you overshared god you hate when you do that. “Hmm… I don’t know how he does it I wouldn’t be able to stay away from you.” he admits playing with a strand of your hair and using his hand to tilt your jaw up. You two look at each other and you know what you are going to do next is wrong, but you can’t help it. His lips crash onto yours and you grab at his arm. The kiss turns into a heated make out session running your hands through his hair. You hesitate for a moment wondering if you should take it further. You start unbuckling his belt slightly pulling his pants down.
"Is this, okay?" you ask pulling away from his lips as he tries leaning forward to kiss you again. "Yes, shit" he answers before reattaching his lips to yours as you softly palm him through his boxers. You push his chest slightly and get on your knee's looking up at him through your lashes. He threw his head back mouth slightly open and his eyes closed. His face alone has you wet.
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jazi’s note: hii omg I’m so excited to release this fic I’ve had the idea for a while, but I recently realized that I want to put it out. Sorry, if it is not the best it is my first time writing a fic so, please be patient with my writing journey. I hope to put out more fics and I want them to get better as I go. Reposts, likes, comments, & follows are well appreciated love you all hope you have an amazing day!! :)
(Also, I can start a taglist if anyone is interested?! If you would like to be tagged, send an ask and lmk!! & if anyone decides to use the banner, please give me credit!!🤍)
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creepling · 9 months ago
Text
⋆.˚☀︎٠ ࣪⭑ A KNOCK AWAY
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synopsis: returning packages and a broken washing machine lead you to spend the night with your hot neighbour, digger harkness.
tags: smut - minors dni. fem!reader. age difference (early 20s x late 30s). domestic elements. reader described as "shy" but not really. sexual tension. alcohol use. drinking games. awkward moments. oral (f receiving). couch sex. big dick (it's canon it's out of my control!!!). p in v. creampie. 4.4k words.
Your neighbour had a habit of ordering ludicrous amounts of packages but is never at home to collect them. It was almost every day they arrived and piled at your front door. The last few days you’ve knocked on his door to give them, but met by silence. Your small apartment is running out of room if any more decide to show up. You had been going in the afternoons once you came off work, but he either didn’t answer or wasn’t in. This time, on Saturday morning, you decided to knock on his door. Who cares if it’s the weekend, or it’s too early, you were determined to get those packages out of your house.
You knock gently at first and wait for a minute. No answer. A week. A whole week of this bullshit. Impatience clouds your sympathy, and you knock on the door harder. You hear a thud, a clank of glass, and a curse on the other side of the door. You knock again, calling up a groan of annoyance and an “I’m coming!”
The door opens, and you’re greeted by your neighbour for the first time since you moved here. He is shirtless, showing off a collection of tattoos. His mop of hair hadn’t met a comb yet; still scuffled by sleep. You could tell he was older, and you were taken aback by how attractive he was. Given in a rugged way. You half-expected a balding divorcee with a beer belly.
“You’re George, right? I live next door,” You introduce.
Eyes squint and bloodshot, he looks you up and down before nodding. “You know what time it is, sunshine? Too bloody early to be knocking on people’s doors.” He said, fighting through a hangover to communicate. The twang of an Aussie accent was the second thing to surprise you. Even with the twang of annoyance in his tone, you bite your cheek to fight off a flattered smile.
Your bashfulness forces you to ditch the defiant speech you prepared. “I’m aware of that- but I’ve tried to get a hold of you all week, but you seem to not be in during the afternoon.” You shuffle to your open door, grab one of the packages and gesture it to George, “There’s a ton of packages here for you.”
George’s annoyed face began to soften, and he let out an idle chuckle. “Shiiiiit, I forgot about those!”
He opened his door wider and began collecting the parcels from you. You got a peek inside his apartment. Your suspicions of his home were accurate, resembling what all men living alone succumb themself to; their own squaller.
“Thanks for holding onto them for me. And sorry for being cranky, hangovers, y’know?” George said, his tone now different, one more pleasant. You smile, feeling pleased that you have the chance to converse with a neighbour and know who lives next door.
“Hope you had a good night so it’s worth it,” you chuckle, taking a stack of the packages and shuffling to his door. George takes them from your hands swiftly. This left you standing by his door, looking around the living room, stumped on the small talk. You were never really good at this.
“I mean- it was alright. They just hit you more when you get older,” he dropped the remaining boxes by his door, rubbing his temples as he stretched. His abdomen extended, shifting the waistband of his pants, making you look away and stand in silence. George scratches the back of his neck as he looks at you, feeling the interaction fade to a farewell.
“I better get going, you’ve got a lot to unbox,” you say, slowly backing away.
George gets to the door, nodding and shooting you a smile. “Thanks again for keeping them safe.” You could have sworn he looked you up and down, in a different way this time. Sizing you up, for other means. Maybe it was your imagination.
You meekly wave before retreating to your apartment. With the packages gone, your eyes adjust to the clear space, and the lingering images of your neighbour hot in your thoughts.
The washing machine was stuck again, and no matter how hard you hit it, it was still broken. Today is not going well, and you were on the edge, especially since the only other machine in the block has an ‘out of order’ sign on it. You rub your hands along your face, the skin already flushed from anger. A shuffle of footsteps approaches the entrance, and you reveal yourself to see who is witnessing your self-pity.
“Useless fucking thing, ain’t it?” It was George, the first time you’ve seen him in clothes that weren’t pyjama pants with socks and slides. He looks like he’s back from work, or the gym, it is hard to tell. You did wonder what he did for a living.
“I’m lucky it broke before I put my laundry in,” You look at the bright side with heavy eyes and a half-assed smile.
“Well, I don’t wanna brag, but I do have a machine. Wouldn’t mind ya using it until they fix it,” George shrugs with a ‘no big deal’ attitude. Suddenly your neighbour was a beacon of hope, and the stress left you with a sigh of relief.
“That would be really helpful, thanks,” you pick up your laundry basket, following up the stairs. He hunched the duffle bags over his shoulder. Reaching the top of the stairs, he unlocks his front door and lets you in first, taking a look at his living room and huffing. “Sorry about the mess.”
Beer bottles and cans littering the coffee table, clothes on the floor or hanging from the couch and chairs. You take one breath and smell the stale air, keeping a straight face. “It’s okay,” You smile through it, not wanting to place judgment. Maybe he’s just a busy guy.
George quickly shows you the settings on the machine (which he wasn’t so sure about) before excusing himself to the shower. Before you could ask questions, he was dashing to the bathroom, leaving you to your own devices. You load the machine, press the button and hope for the best.
Alone in his apartment was daunting and you begin to explore. Mostly focused on the messiness, the environment nagging at your senses. Clean space, clean mind, as they say. You pick up the trash and throw it out, starting with the beer cans. Luckily you didn’t find anything too disgusting, with the odd dirty plate you could place in the sink. You open the curtains, coughing from the dust and open the window to release the smell of stale pizza and beer. Your mind is clearer, you go to wash your hands until you spot George standing by the entrance of the living room in awe. He is still in his towel, his right hand clenching the side to keep it in place, his hair wet and slicked back. You turn away immediately, looking anywhere but him, a kick of adrenaline overtaking your insides.
“Wasn’t aware I ordered room service,” he joked, amused by your embarrassment.
“I’m sorry- I should have just left and come back later for the laundry. But- I don’t know- your place looked like it needed a tidy-up. I can’t help myself, it’s a habit. God- I’m so stupid-”
“Don’t get your undies in a twist, it’s fine. I appreciate it,” George reassures, rubbing the back of his neck, “As you can see, I don’t get many visitors.”
When he closes the bedroom door to change, it’s safe for you to look again. That feeling in your stomach didn’t go away, it still brewed in the pit and crawled its way up your core. It makes you think about him again, like those sleepless nights after your first encounter, and your cheeks grow hot. Maybe this is a good time to slip out and avoid him like the plague. But what else would you be doing? Watching TV? Playing video games? All alone in your apartment, like you always are. That’s how your life has been, work, home, bed; absent of social life, of anything remotely adventurous. You keep your feet firmly on the ground, chewing your lip in thought. There was a time when you lived life on the edge, out every weekend, hooked up with people. Letting your old self come out to play wouldn’t be so bad, would it?
“Where do you keep your cleaning supplies? I could do the rest for you if you want,” you call, inching towards the bedroom door so he can hear you. He opens the door quickly, startling you, wearing casual grey sweatpants and a white tee.
“Are you like a freelance maid or something? This how you get clients?” He leaned an arm on the door frame, looking down at you. He becomes the only thing in eyesight and you freeze, giving a shy smile.
“No, I just like cleaning, that's all. You seem like you need it, being a busy guy and all.” You study his eyes, wondering if he sees right through you.
George slowly nods, then snaps his fingers, heading towards the front door and sliding his shoes on. “Tell you what, love. I have to run a few errands, while I’m out I’ll leave you to it.”
You frown, crossing your arms. “You’re just gonna leave me, your neighbour you’ve met like once, in your house alone? You trust me like that?”
He shrugs, taking one of the duffle bags full of… something. “I’ve got many weapons I can pull on you if you try anything. Plus, you’re young and don’t look that strong, so I think I can take you on.” You weren’t sure if he was joking, but there was a cheeky look in his eye that allowed you to chuckle.
“That would do it. You can trust me.”
George gives a little salute, exiting the door. “Stuff’s under the kitchen sink. Good luck!”
You look at his limited supply, an empty bottle of bleach and a mysterious liquid in a spray bottle. You decide to use your supplies, grab them from your apartment, and come back to start the work.
You collapse on the couch gasping for air. People underestimate how much energy it takes to clean, especially when cleaning George’s house. Within an hour you cleaned the living room and kitchen and hung up your laundry to dry in your apartment. The worst part was the vacuuming, as like not owning cleaning supplies, he also didn’t have a vacuum. Go figure.
George eventually returned, greeted by your efforts and your limp body sprawled on his couch. You quickly got up, hoping he didn’t mind. Heck, this guy doesn’t have a vacuum, he can’t be the judge. “So, what do you think?” You anticipate.
“You did a bloody good job, I’ll tell ya that,” a smile on his face, making you smile too. “And since ya the best neighbour on this side of Metropolis, I got ya a lil payment to say thanks.”
George pulls out a crate of beers and takeaway pizza, presenting them to you. Your eyebrows knit in confusion, but you smile at the thought. “Thanks, George.”
“Please, call me Digger, everyone calls me that,” he said, “Thought we could have a couple of beers and I’d feed ya, but I’m no chef, hence the pizza.”
“So, Digger… is this you inviting me over for dinner?” You ask, pursing your lips. He thought about it and then nodded his head. “I guess I am,” he smirks.
Pizza crusts and beer cans decorate the coffee table, the television musing low music. You laugh at a joke Digger told you, hiding your mouth to not spit all over the place. He sits low on the couch, his hands resting between his legs with a beer. With your legs close to your chest, you take a sip of beer when a silence falls between you.
“Thanks for having me, I’m having a lovely time.” You confess, a little tipsy. You get shy admitting that, focusing on the music, unaware of Digger’s eyes not leaving your sight.
“I didn’t have a college kid cleaning my house on my bingo card,” he muses teasingly, smirking at your bashful smile.
“I am not a college kid! I graduated ages ago.”
“And by ages ago you mean in the last five years?”
He chuckles at your look of defeat. “Says the guy who’s five years off getting a pension,” you tease in defence.
“I’m not that old!” He defended back, “Nowhere near it!”
“Well, you’re at least old enough to clean your own house and have a vacuum.”
“You got me there…” he says into his beer.
The silence fell between you once again, but surprisingly it was not awkward. The air was thick, and not with stale air like before. You convince yourself it’s one-sided, keeping yourself together. You had an idea, but it was juvenile. When he doesn't say anything to keep the conversation going, you go on and suggest it.
“How about we play truth or drink?”
“How old are you? Five?” He scoffs.
“We already established my age, remember? C’mon, it’ll be a good icebreaker. Don’t you wanna get to know your friendly neighbour?” You nudge his arm playfully, realising you’ve been going that a lot since you had a drink. Mostly when he told a joke. You try not to cringe, realising your inferiority. He probably thinks you’re immature, and you suddenly see yourself as a fool. But when he turns his body towards you, giving you his full attention while cracking open another beer, you feel a little better about yourself.
“Who’s asking first?” He asks.
You volunteered since you suggested playing. You turn towards him, fighting through a fit of giggles, liking the way his eyes smile at you. He has nice eyes, light in colour, a mix of blue and grey with crow's feet winging the sides.
“Okay, let’s start easy. How long have you lived on the block?” You ask.
“‘Bout five months, I’d say,” he says.
“Do you move around a lot?”
“Oi, thought you ask one question at a time?”
“Yeah, sorry. Just curious,” you dart your eyes to his smirking lips before looking away.
“To answer your other question, I do move around a bit. It’s a job thing.”
You look back at him, catching his stare, the one that never seems to fade from you. You like the way he stares at you, so attentive like he refuses to have you out of his sight. It’s the type of stare that makes someone feel special.
“My turn,” he chirps, “are you always this shy around people?”
“What? I’m not shy,” you scoff.
“Really? You’re not shy?”
“What happened to starting easy?”
“No, you said that. I didn’t. I never start easy,” he says haughtily.
You roll your eyes, taking the beer can to your lips and taking a sip. Digger scoffs in shock, “No way are you drinking to that.”
“It’s a ridiculous question, plus I technically did answer the question. I’m not shy.”
Digger shakes his head in disappointment, breaking eye contact to chuckle into his hand. You narrow your eyes, readying the next question.
“Do you have a wife and kids?” You ask.
Digger didn’t act like you struck a nerve, but he wasn’t laughing anymore. He shook his head, and you take that as an answer, not wanting to press further. Yet, he begins to speak, in a tone softer than the one you’ve been getting used to;
“I know at my age I probably should, but it’s never worked out, y’know? The whole love thing I’ve never gotten the hang of.”
You resonate with him, meekly returning a smile. “Me either.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Digger said.
“Really?”
“Yeah, you’re good-looking. Woulda bet somebody snagged ya by now.”
You can’t help but chuckle, hearing how wrong his words are. “I guess I’ve gotten close before, but it was never meant to be.”
Digger nods in agreement like he is in the same boat. You had a strong urge to move closer to him, but resort to fidgeting with a thread on the coach. “Who’s turn is it?”
“Mine,” Digger returns his gaze to you. It was more intense, and you feel him all over you. As you grow the courage to meet his eyes, you see them trailing from your lips to meet you, his icy eyes darkening and lips parting as he readies his words.
“How would you feel about kissing me?”
Your stillness speaks volumes to him, and from the look of shock in your eyes, Digger’s smile fades and turns sour. He hides his face in his hands, cursing under his breath.
“Fuck- Just drink to that, it was bloody stupid,” his self-depreciation eats at you and you try and find the words to explain yourself. He was right, you were shy, and it got in the way of your feelings. So much for being the big flirt like you planned.
“No, it’s fine, honestly-”
He cuts you off, “I just thought- why else would wanna hang out with an old fuck like me? Keep my packages, clean my house,” he groans out a sigh, “and the way you look at me, fuck, it’s been driving me insane all day.”
“Digger-” you catch his attention, softening your face, and placing your beer on the coffee table. You shift your body closer to his, your movement swift but gentle. “I’d like it if you kissed me.”
He blinks, adjusting his eyes to the proximity, noticing the small details of your features, the softness of your lips. He swallows back his nerves, “Nah- you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
There is only one way to prove him wrong, and you did it by making the first move. You press your lips against him, and you're struck with his immediate touch as he engulfs you in his arms. Your hands snake up his chest to the back of his neck, deepening the kiss as he beckons you to press your body against him with his firm hold. He grins into the kiss at the sound of your whimpers, holding the small of your waist and guiding you to his lap. You go with the motion, swinging your leg around and straddling him, enamoured by the hold he has on you. The makeout was sloppy, tipsy on beer and getting more drunk on each other’s lips. Digger’s kisses were firm and deep, his chapped lips coated in your sweet spot as he glided his tongue along yours. His hands lay haven on your asses, rubbing his callous palm around the fabric of your pants, enchanting your hips to move ever so slightly.
“Ain’t so shy now, are ya?” He grunts into your ear, migrating his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling on your faint skin. You see stars, closing your eyes in bliss, your fingers tugging at his shirt and fighting off the urge to rip it off. He takes the time to remove his t-shirt with your eager assistance, latching onto you once you discard it.
“Please, I need you,” you plead. You gaze down at him, your stare both close and far. His bucking hips invite your crotch to feel his length, the tip of his bulge grinding against your thigh.
He whispers to you, “Tell me what you want.”
 “Use me, I know you want to,” you taunt, enjoying the light that ignites in his eyes, his grip tighter on your skin.
“You’ll regret saying that, but I bet you can handle it,” he jesters, pulling your hair to expose your neck, his lips latching back onto your sweet skin. His other hand pushes your top over your breasts, exposing your hardening nipples. Licking towards your nipples, sucking on them gently and cupping your tits in his hands, grazing his teeth when you grind down on his erection.
Digger, hungry for more of you, lays you down on the couch. His eyes demand your attention, taking time to pull down your pants and underwear, drenched in your arousal. He lowers his head to your cunt, prying your legs open as you try to hide how wet you were.
“Don’t hide from me, love, show me how pretty you are,” he muses, admiring your glistening walls, lapping them tenderly with the tip of his fingers. Relishing in your squirms, he gazes at you under his lashes. “Fuck, you’re drenched.”
Your hands grip his hair when his tongue makes contact with your sensitive walls, his prominent nose snug on your clit as he eats you out. His movements are deep and steady, keeping himself in place between your quivering thighs, refusing to come up for breath as a rising feeling of release fills your insides. Shifting his tongue from your walls to your clit, his nose taking place not to neglect your pleasure, his eyes checking your reactions as his pride swelled from your raptured state. He takes a breath to tease you in between, his hoarse voice wavering against your heat, “Look at you, getting so worked up for me.”
“’m so close,” that was music to Digger’s ears, egging him on to keep up the pace.
Your whimpers rise into moans, and your thighs shiver under his grip and come undone. Digger doesn’t stop, pressing a firm hand on your stomach, keeping you in place so he rides out your high. You’re flushed in humility, but fuck it feels amazing. You break a sweat, shivering at the cooling of your hot skin, sighing in relief when Digger finally relaxes his hold on you. His face meets yours, your arousal coating the stubble on his chin and spreading to his chops. He is ferocious and light-headed – as if drunk on the taste of you.
“Hope you’ve still got some spunk in ya,” he pants, “I’m as stiff as a board here.”
Digger invites your hand to feel his erection. You didn’t think he could be harder than he was before, but he comes full of surprises. He slings the waistband of his trousers down and his cock springs free, twitching at the touch of your flinching fingers.
“Jesus fucking Christ-” Blessed by the man himself, his size was insane. You straighten in intimidation.
“I’ll go slow, okay? Just- fuck- I’m bursting at the seams here,” he begs, cupping your cheek with a reassuring hand.
You nod with a morbid curiosity, unable to deny the instinct to have him inside you, to feel every inch of him. Digger litters you in kisses, sloppy and idle as he dampens your cheeks and lips. Opening your legs wide, sucking in a breath, you watch as he lines his cock to your entrance. There was no fuss in sliding inside you, your dripping cunt lubing his tip and coating his shaft, the feeling of him inside you more filling than painful. It sets a spark in your mind, your eyes distant, the twitch of his cock against your walls melting your senses.
An unexpected moan escapes Digger’s lips, but he is attentive enough to coo for your attention, holding your face and bringing you back to earth.
“You still with me, hun?” He chuckles at your dazed look, trying to keep himself together as you tighten around him. You blink back to reality and wrap your legs around him, mewling at the slow thrusts coming into you. You eventually nod a reply, straining your neck to witness his cock buried inside you to train your hole for his massive size. He takes advantage of your position, locking a hand behind your head and picking up the pace. He is smitten by your squeaks. His rough hand clenches your hip, setting out to fuck you good. As you will soon learn, Digger has a habit of getting carried away. You learn a lot of dirty things about him that both shock you and fill you with sweetly sick lust.
Digger has you bent over the arm of the couch, his cock pummelling in and out of your abused cunt, muffling your feral moans with a hand clasped over your mouth. He arches your back and presses his lips against your ear, reminding you that he can see right through you.
“Is this what you wanted? To fuck you; get you drunk on my fat dick. Bet you didn’t think I had it in me.”
“You’re so good, so ‘fucking good,” you moan, your eyes glued to him with lust, a sly smile across your face. Digger sticks two fingers into your mouth, teasing your tongue to swirl around them, smirking at your eagerness.
“Shit, that’s enough to make me finish,” he says in a low voice, “And you wouldn’t want me cumming inside you, would ya?”
The way you clench around his dick and the sidious look in the dim light suggest the opposite. “No, come inside me,” you seal the deal.
“You’re so bloody dirty.” Digger’s eyes turn dark, his hand wrapping around your neck, rutting into you faster and harder than before. You see stars, giving into the numbing pleasure you succumb to. A dumbfound smile stretches across your lips once you feel the warmth of Digger’s seed filling your cunt, hitting against your womb. His weight falls on you momentarily, leaving kisses along your back while his energy is slowly sucked out of him. His cock slips out and before his heavy eyes close over, he gazes at the cum dripping from your slit, groping your ass for a better view.
Digger gathers his senses, only noticing you struggling to get up from your stiff knees. He brings you onto his lap, soothing your legs and resting your head on his shoulder.
“Well, that was something…” He chuckles, “Ya think we got a little carried away?”
“I think I’ll never be able to walk again,” you joke, yet anticipated the next few days entailing leg pain.
He felt guilty, knowing to make up for it he would need more than pizza and beer. He continues to sooth your legs, nuzzling his nose into your hair.
“How’s about I run you a bath?” He suggests.
There he is again, that beacon of hope. He is going to find it hard to get rid of you now. “That’d be amazing.”
548 notes · View notes
jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year ago
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Drunk N Nasty (poly!Pro!Bakusquad x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot) 
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Pairing: poly!Bakusquad x Black!Fem!Reader 
Synopsis: In which you and Mina get tired of your boring ass boyfriends not making time for their girlfriends, so you two decide to hit the club for a night out with every intention of getting under your boyfriends’ skin. Fortunately for you, it works and your men decide to teach you and Mina a lesson about being some disobedient brats. 
Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Aged Up!Bakusquad (they’re all in their late 20s); Black-coded!Reader (but anyone can still read this); Alcohol/Marijuana Consumption; Dubcon; Groping; Thigh Grinding; Dry Humping; Spitting; Girl on Girl; Mutual Oral; Edge Play; Bondage/Tape Play; Shock/Electro Play; Drunk Sex; Daddy Kink; some DDLG; Spanking; Choking; Hair-pulling; Facefucking; UNPROTECTED PIV Sex; Degradation; Multiple Creampies; Facials; Some Aftercare 
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer’s Note: I was DEEP down the Bakusquad hole one night like I was fucking Alice & decided to write this since it’s been at the back of my head for a couple of weeks. This one is NASTY. Enjoy! -Jazz 💋💋💋
Read on AO3 here!
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“They’ve been starin’ at us all night, ya know.” 
Mina sits next to you on the little leather lounge couch situated at the back of the club near the bar which has started to trickle down with activity. You and Mina have been here for over an hour, so the buzz of the night is starting to die down a bit, but the dance floor is packed and the drinks are still flowing. 
And the eyes are still staring. A pair of two in particular that you can see piercing at you and your girlfriend from across the way. The two smoldering pairs of eyes belong to two very attractive men dressed in their best designer. They each have features that stand out to you as intriguing: the tallest one sitting on the right has long, black hair you bet is soft to the touch while the one on the left has arms roped in tattoos and lip piercings. 
They are both hot. That much is clear. And their alluring, lustful stares are definitely piping you up as you sit nice and pretty with your girlfriend, a second fruity cocktail in your hand that will soon turn into a third. But though they are hot, you know four other men that are way hotter and that you would rather be here with you and Mina tonight. 
But noooo, they’re just too damn busy to make time for their pretty girlfriends. 
You mean towards Mina, dipping low to speak into her ear over the music blasting from the speakers overhead. “They can stare all they want,” you retort. “I’m way more interested in the four idiots that aren’t here right now.” 
Mina scoffs, sipping on her second tequila sunrise of the night. You both love your girly drinks. “Waiting on them to come?” she chuckles, the flashing club lights making her ink-black eyes gleam. You flush in your mini dress, feeling hot despite the AC blasting and the exposed skin your little get-up provides. “You’ll be waiting a loooong time then, baby girl,” Mina scoffs, crossing her smooth, muscular legs over one another. “You know they’re at that meeting tonight discussing business or whatever.” 
She rolls her eyes, ever the brat of your relationship. But you’re not exactly the opposite though. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t pissed that your boyfriends aren’t here, buying you and Mina all of the pretty drinks you want, giving you those lustful stares on the dance floor, and hyping you up in your outfits. 
You made sure to look hotter than hot tonight. Like hot enough to make a man nut in his pants as soon as he sees you. You had raided your closet and pulled out a short, backless mini dress that made your legs look longer and showed off the curve of your spine sliding down towards your ass where a rhinestone G-string snugly sits below your stomach and in your ass crack.
You love, love, love this dress–how beautiful the pink fabric looks against your skin; how sexy it makes you feel. Not to mention how the hem of it barely covers your ass. If you are to bend over right now, everyone would get a good view of your ass that looks even plumper from the sparkly G-string.  
The dress is one of your boys’ favorites. They’ve torn it off of you many, many times before. Combined with your heeled sandals, fresh mani and pedi, the perfume adorning your wrists and the back of your knees, and long braids that caress your back, you feel like a damn vixen. 
Mina looks good enough to eat too. She decided on a mesh bodysuit that is skintight against her body and breasts, exposing the black bra she wears underneath, red pumps, and a leather mini skirt that doesn’t do much to cover the bottom of her asscheeks. You’re not sure if she’s wearing any panties, but knowing Mina and her bratty self, she did that for a reason. 
She was the one who came up with this little plan to rile your busy pro boyfriends’ up. One hot afternoon while lounging by your pool at your shared condo, you two were more than pissed that your boys were still at work after saying they’d be home by two.
“Sorry, babes,” Denki sighed over speakerphone. “Patrol is takin’ much longer than we thought it would, so we’re still out here in the street. It’s hot as a bitch out here too.” You could hear the frustrations in his usually-upbeat tone as he gave you and Mina the rundown. 
“Well, you could just leave early, can’t you?” you ask. “Aren’t there other pros working besides you, Sero, Kiri, and ‘Suki?” 
You hear Sero make a “tsk” sound into the phone. “We wish we could, mama,” he sighs. “Almost everybody called out ‘cause of the heat, so we’re pretty much the only ones workin’ still, but we get a fat bonus out of this.” 
“We’d better!” Katsuki hollers in the background. “It’s so hot out here, my fuckin’ balls are sweating. You two brats complainin’ aren’t makin’ things better for me either.” 
You and Mina stared at each other in your designer sunglasses, mouths agape and offended. “Hey!” Mina scoffed, taking your phone from you. “It’s not our fault we feel neglected! You four have been blowin’ us off for weeks now to do work!” 
And she’s right. The usual attention you and Mina get from your adoring, hot boyfriends has since been dwindling down ever since they started taking on more work at their agency. Now it’s all about work. 
You try to get one of them to go out with you for a night in the city? “Sorry, babe, but I’ll be in the office late.” 
You want to cuddle? “Baby, I can’t; this paperwork ain’t gonna do itself. Maybe later tonight.” 
You want one of them to blow your back out and fucking do something about the ache between your legs? “Don’t you got one of your toys? We can do that later, alright?” That response was from Katsuki a week ago stressing over the whereabouts of a villain committing petty theft all over the city. 
This dry spell has been happening for weeks now. And when you say a “dry spell”, you mean that shit. Not only have the boys been blowing you and Mina off for time alone, but the bedroom is dryer than the fucking Sahara desert. 
While sex isn’t always between the six of you every single time, you miss it being that way––the connection you all have being together, touching and teasing each other; giving each other pleasure. You miss your favorite men aka your daddies domming you and Mina into submission, taking turns on your bodies and poor little pussies until you’re both aching for release. And more than anything, you miss the aftercare. You miss the cuddle piles; the soft kisses from Kiri and the the mindless touches from Sero; the nuzzles from Denki and the soft humming from a very sleepy Katsuki. 
Recently, you and Mina have had to spent time with each other in the bedroom by yourselves without your daddies, if not use your toys. Though your rose toy and vibrator get the job done, toys never compare to physical touch. You need your boys. But they’re just too busy. 
So Mina came up with the perfect idea after Katsuki told her to “sit her ass down, watch her mouth, and wait for them to get home” before hanging up and proceeding with their patrol. “We should go out,” she said as you began to put sun tan oil on her muscular back. Her eyes were closed and her face was relaxed. 
“What, like, tonight?” you asked, rubbing your hands together once more to heat up the oil. Mina softly moaned as your hands knead into her back muscles, the sounds going straight to your clit. “Why not?” she replied. “Or this weekend. Maybe we can go dancing and meet some guys that’ll give us the attention we’re cravin’.” 
She giggled at this, but you could tell she was serious. “I don’t know, Mina,” you hesitantly said, rubbing oil into her shoulders. “Don’t get me wrong; I love the idea of goin’ out to shake my ass and look cute, but without the guys? You know how they feel about other guys checkin’ us out.” You stopped rubbing her down and she looked back at you, concerned. “What if they get mad?” you timidly ask. 
You’ve seen the boys mad before and didn’t want to face that wrath…or did you? The idea of riling your daddies up so much that they punished you with enough spanks to make your ass sting and filled your throat up to the point your eyes teared appealed to you more than you’d like to admit. 
Mina could tell you were thinking it over and turned over, exposing her gorgeous breasts in her gold bikini top to you. “So what if they get mad?” she scoffed. “They’d better put that aggression into fucking us if that happens. We’ve been trying to get their asses to show us a little attention for weeks, but it’s always about work!”
She sat up, taking your hands in hers. “So if they don’t want to pay attention to us, then we’ll make them pay attention––by wearing our hottest shit and spending time with some dudes that would gladly give us what we want.” She smirked at you, mischief in her eyes. “So what do you say, baby girl? This Saturday?” 
All you could do was smile back as an excited flutter formed in your tummy. Now here you were one a hot Saturday night, wearing your sluttiest outfits and getting checked out without your boys here to keep an eye on you. Just like you and Mina planned. “You really think they won’t show up?” you ask, slight disappointment blooming in you. “We posted our pics all over IG, so you know they saw.” 
“They probably did,” Mina says, wrapping her glossy, sparkly lips around her straw to sip her cocktail. “If they aren’t tied up at work, that is. Can you imagine them walking in here right now? Katsuki would probably have us bent over this couch.” 
You laugh along with her, cackling at your boyfriend’s reaction. “Or Sero would tie us up and drag us out of here,” you giggle. Your eyes then glide up and down your girlfriend’s form in her clothes, your mouth suddenly dry. “You know, you really look so good tonight. I almost don’t even want the boys to have you.” 
She giggles, pressing a sticky kiss to your cheek. “Thank you, babe,” she purrs into your ear. “You look absolutely delicious.” Her hand glides down to her ass, squeezing it. “Y’know, I bet those guys over there would say the same thing. Don’t wanna waste this little fit, do you?” 
Out of the corner of your eye, you see the long-haired hottie take a drag of his blunt that suddenly looks very appealing to you. ‘Fuck it,’ you think. You came here to not only rile up your boys, but to also let loose and have some fun. Why stay back here and act like you aren’t interested in these two? 
So you stand and take Mina’s hand in yours. “Let’s go and say hi,” you purr. Mina giggles excitedly from beside you, sipping on her drink like it’s justice as you walk her over to the leering duo. Their stares get even more lustful and lecherous as you get closer to them, their eyes gliding over your legs, hips, thighs, and titties jiggling with every step. 
You know what they want and there is no way you’re going to give it up to them. You wouldn’t dare ruin your amazing, romantic, poly relationship with Mina and your boys. But the idea of acting up with them enough to ruffle the feathers of your boyfriends makes your heart skip a beat and your pussy leak. You stop in front of them with Mina, smiling down at them. “Are those seats taken?” you ask, a breathless, sexy tone leaking into your voice. You point one manicured finger at the empty spots beside either one of them. 
The duo look at the empty seats then at each other before smirking up at you both. “Not at all,” the tattooed one answers. “Please, join us. We’ve been waitin’ on you two all night.” Mina giggles as she sits down next to him while you take a seat next to the long-haired one. “We can tell; you two have been starin’ at us almost all night.” 
The tattooed man laughs, flashing his pearly whites at your girlfriend. “Well, it’s not every day you see a pro hero and her pretty friend walk into a club.” At the mention of “friend”, you look at Mina, trying not to laugh at her wobbling lips as she struggles to keep in her giggles. 
“Well, you’re in luck then,” you chuckle. “I’m Y/N and of course, you know Mina aka Pinkie.” The long-haired hottie takes short puff of his blunt, making sure to blow it out of your face. “I’m Aki and this here is Kanaki,” he says in a deep, raspy voice that would make any woman’s pussy wet. His friend, Kanaki, gives you a nod. “We just got done some boxing practice and came here for a night out.” 
“Oh, you’re boxers?” Mina asks, interested. Kanaki smiles at her, dimples popping in his cheeks. He’s a panty-dropper too. “Best in the business,” he cockily replies. “We come here often for relaxation, but we’ve never seen you two before.” 
“Work unfortunately keeps us busy,” Mina explains, “but tonight was a good night for us. We’re just here for a good time.” Kanaki smirks at Aki before turning back to Mina, his intentions pure to you. “So are we,” he rasps, . “I bet we could all have some fun together.” 
Aki nods in agreement, taking another puff of his blunt. He sees you watching him and removes the blunt from his lips, a puff of smoke billowing from between his lips. “Want a hit?” he asks. “You smoke?” 
“Not often,” you sheepishly reply, “but I’m here to relax so…if you don’t mind…” Aki passes you the blunt without another word and you take a small hit, coughing a bit as the smoke fills your lungs. When you take another short puff, you already feel the weed take effect on you and let the smoke billow from your parted, glossed lips. Aki watches your mouth, hypnotized. 
“You ladies want some drinks?” Kanaki asks, already whipping out his wallet. “We’re buying.” You and Mina share an excited look and look at the drink menu before ordering a round of Patron shots with a side of lemon, lime, and salt. You and Mina finish your cocktails before indulging in the shots with Aki and Kanaki, pretending not to notice them staring at your lips when you suck on the lemon and lime slices. 
Suddenly, one shot turns into two. Then three. Then four. And then two puffs of Aki’s joint turn into four.
Before you know it, you are absolutely fucking gone. And before you know it, an hour later after meeting the two, you’re on the dance floor with them and Mina, the weed making you feel relaxed and the alcohol making you feel like you could touch the moon. You feel light as a feather, giggly, and bubbly. The world is spinning and slightly blurry, but it also seems beautiful and nice to you. Everything is good. Everyone is sexy. 
Especially your girlfriend. She grinds against you now, her body pressed against yours as you rock against each other to “Body Party” by Ciara which seems to make everyone horny. Your hands are under her skirt, grasping her asscheeks and giving Kanaki a flash of her jiggling, pink cheeks that he can’t seem to keep his eyes off of. 
Aki is the same. He stands beside you two in the crowd of grinding bodies under the flashing lights, ogling at your bodies grinding against each other. You giggle with Mina’s arms still snaked around your waist, her hips flush against yours as you pull your phone out of your purse. You fumble to tap in your code and open the camera app, but once you do, you raise your phone up towards your girlfriend and your “friends” for the night. “Smile, y’all!” you drunkenly shout. “Smile for the camera!” 
You smile at your phone, big and bright. Mina gives your phone the middle finger and a devious smile while Kanaki and Aki barely look at the phone when the flash goes off. You can’t even put your phone away before Mina is all over you again, tossing her arms around your neck. “Gimme a kiss, Y/N,” she whines, puckering her lips at you. Drunk off of her and everything around you, you grip the back of her head and pull her in close for a sloppy, lustful kiss. 
You plunge your fingers through her messy, pink girls while she trails her hands down to your ass, gripping it. You moan into her mouth, giving her the opportunity to slip her tongue into it and swirl it with yours. Soft moans and giggles emit between you, floating in the air and to the ears of Kanaki and Aki that have gotten much closer to you and Mina, watching the scene unfolding before them. 
Your phone suddenly vibrates and you pull away from a pouty Mina, a string of saliva connected to your bottom lips. “Hold up, I’m getting a call!” you laugh. “I’ll be right back, babe.”
You give Mina a wink before stumbling off of the dance floor, pulling down your skirt in the back as much as you can. You decide to go to the nearest ladies’ room and lean against the wall where the long line is before answering the call. You look down at the caller ID, grinning when you see one of your boyfriends’ names there. With a drunk giggle, you answer. “Hellooo?” you sing into the phone. 
“There the fuck you are!” Katsuki huffs with relief. “Where the fuck are you two? We’ve been calling you two all night! Texting you, blowin’ up your phone!” You scowl confusedly at this newfound information. “You have?” you ask, confused. 
Briefly, you pull your phone away from your ear and check your missed calls and texts. Sure enough, Katsuki is right: you have two missed calls Kiri, one from Denki, a text from Sero asking if you’re okay, and three calls and a very angry text from Katsuki asking where the fuck you are. “Oh!” you giggle, continuing the call. “Sorry, my ringer is off.” 
As you thought, Katsuki is not happy about that at all. “Why the fuck is your ringer off, Y/N?” he growls. “And where are you? It’s loud as fuck in there. I can’t even hear you.” 
You put one foot up on the wall, leaning your back flush against the cool tiles. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you scoff. Katsuki pauses, obviously not believing you just said that. Do you want to die? 
But it isn’t Katsuki who speaks this time––it’s Kiri. “Yes, we do,” he replies in a voice you’ve never heard from him before. It sounds like it’s taking everything in him to not reach through the phone and spank you. “Don’t play with us right now, Y/N. Where are you and Mina?” 
Your stomach twirls nervously at the undercurrent of anger in Kiri’s voice, but it also causes heat to pool between your legs. Kiri isn’t the type to get worked up so easily, so to see it now is kind of hot. “Well, for your information, shark boy,” you scoff, “my girlfriend and I are at a nice club havin’ nice drinks with these very nice guys we met since you four are too busy for us.” You take a lock of your braids and twirl it around your finger as more word vomit rises to the surface. “Oh, they bought us shots too. And one said he likes my dress.” 
“You’re wearin’ that pink one?” Denki asks, sounding excited. You giggle giddily in response, finding humor in his whine. But Katsuki stomps on that giddiness real quick. “Dammit, why’d you have to pull that one out?!” he snaps. 
You take the phone away from your ear for a moment, scowling at it. Who the fuck is he yelling at? “Because you four idiots are too busy to take care of us!” you snap right back. “So we’re out here doin’ it ourselves. We’ve been asking you four to spend time with us for weeks, but it’s always, ‘Noooo, Y/N, we’ve got paperwork to finish’. ‘No sex tonight, Mina; we’ve got a meeting tomorrow morning’.” 
You lean your foot back down to the ground and cross your arm over your midsection, suddenly feeling cold and small. “We’re just feelin’ neglected,” you weakly say. “We miss our boys.” 
The other side of the phone is silent, the boys obviously dumbfounded at the truth in your and Mina’s horrible decision. “Baby, just come home, okay?” Kiri soothingly says. “We can talk about then.” Sero agrees, taking the phone. “Yeah, mama, just relax and we can discuss it at all in private,” he coos. “Here, let me order you two a Lyft and–“ 
“I don’t want a Lyft,” you shortly reply. “I wanna dance. I wanna have fun. So I’m gonna go now.” 
“Wait, Y/N!” Katsuki shouts, but your finger is already hovering over the button to end the call. “Byeeee!” you shriek into the phone before hanging up. The illusion of pride overflows inside of you as you strut back over to the dance floor. ‘I told them,’ you think proudly with a giggle, not even thinking about how you’re going to get your pussy beaten black and blue later for this little charade. 
When you shimmy back onto the dance floor, Mina is twirling her lips like it’s no one’s business and holding a new drink. “Ooooh, what’s that?” you ask, pointing at her glass. It is orange and topped with ice and chopped oranges and strawberries, reminding you of a tequila sunrise but better. Mina gives you a deviously sexy look, her gold eyes shimmering. You know exactly what she wants. “Wanna taste it?” she giggles, and you nod, practically salivating for another taste of her. 
You let her yank you over to her before she takes a sip of the drink. Instantly, you open your mouth wide and tilt your head back, allowing her to hover her mouth over yours and spit the alcohol and her saliva right into your mouth. You hum appealingly at the taste of her and the fruity drink, the nasty act making you gush in your thong. Kanaki and Aki are close to falling out from the scene. “Fuck!” Aki groans. “Can you do that to me too please?” 
Mina turns to the boys, wagging her finger at them. “Mm-mm, sorry,” she giggles. “That’s reserved for my girl.” She wraps an arm around you, pulling you close into her perfume-soaked neck. “And our daddies,” she whispers. “You think they’re mad at us?” 
You know for a fact from the phone call that they are livid, but you can’t bring yourself to care too much. The alcohol, the music, and Mina’s lips don’t allow you to. All you want right now is her. You wordlessly lean in to kiss her again, your lips moving sloppily against each other. You both moan into each other’s mouths as your tongues swirl and flick against one another, too drunk to realize that you two are tongue kissing in public. 
“God, you two are so fucking hot,” Aki groans from behind you. “I’d kill to touch either of you.” 
Mina pulls away, all of her lipgloss gone and somewhere on your mouth. “We know!” she giggles. “Butcha can’t, can they, Y/N?” She winks playfully at you, wrapping her arms securely around your body. “We already belong to someone…well, somebodies.” 
You giddily nod, turning to Aki. He has gotten closer, so close than you can see the bulge that has begun to protrude from his pants. “As sexy as you two are?” he scoffs, leering down at you under the strobe lights. “Of course, but they ain’t here, are they?” 
“I wouldn’t put money on that, pal,” Kiri replies from behind him. Wait…Kiri?! 
You and Minajump like you see a ghost as soon as you lay eyes on the big and buff redheaded hunk. He stands there behind Aki with his inked, muscled arms crossed over his broad chest covered by a black muscle tee. And he doesn’t look the least bit happy. Aki jumps at the sight of him, nearly tripping over his own feet. “Red Riot?!” he asks you and Mina, shocked. “You’re dating Red Riot?!” 
You and Mina don’t answer, too flabbergasted at the presence of your boyfriend standing there, looking very disappointed in both of his girls. “So this is where you two headed off to,” he sighs, shaking his head in disapproval. “I knew Denki would recognize the place from your IG stories.” His red eyes tick between the two of you. “You two are in big trouble, you know that, right?” 
You and Mina look at each other, faces pale and fear in your eyes. You two are fucked. “K-Kiri, we…” Your mouth runs dry, your tongue too heavy for words. Kiri’s brows raise expectantly. 
“You…what?” he asks. “You decided to be two needy little brats and make us worry over you? You wanted to get a rise out of us?” The corner of his pierced lips curl into a crooked, dry smirk. “Well, baby girls, you did.” 
Your body is on fire, but not out of excitement. You know damn well you’re going to get an earful about this from all of them, not just your platinum blonde-haired Chihuahua of a boyfriend. “Kiri, we’re sorry,” Mina weakly says, staring up at the redhead through her lashes. Usually, her soft, puppy-dog eyes work, but not this time. “Oh, it ain’t just me you’re gonna have to apologize to, baby girl,” Kiri chuckles darkly. “You’ve also got these three.” 
His eyes tick above your heads. Even without turning around, you can sense the presence of your three other boyfriends standing behind you. When you and Mina slowly turn, you’re met with the very ticked-off Katsuki, Sero, and Denki standing behind you, arms crossed over their buff chests and anger radiating off of them in waves. 
Oh, shit. 
Your eyes widen as Mina grabs your hand, gripping it tightly. You both know you’re fucked. “What’s up, mamis?” Sero snickers, staring down at you and Mina with a dark look. “You look scared.” Denki grins deviously at you, practically licking his chops. “Both of them do,” he giggles. “Like they’re lookin’ at their death.” 
Bakugou barely moves except for the slight twitch by his eye––a sign that he is very, very angry. “Not till we get ‘em home,” he growls.
His eyes then tick up to Aki and Kanaki still standing near you, their eyes wide with shock. “Da fuck are you two still standin’ there for, huh?” Bakugou snarls. “They’re ours. Now back the fuck up if you know what’s good for you.” He raises his hand and the crackle of his sweat glistening in his palm is all it takes to send the two men scrambling off. 
You and Mina are practically shivering in your boots as your four boyfriends stand over you, the fear of the unknown taking over your bodies. What’s going to happen when they get you home? Are they going to spank your asses until they’re red? Are they going to edge you until you’re both crying and begging for release? Or, even worse, are they just going to do nothing at all? No touching or teasing? Neither one of their thick cocks filling you up? 
Katsuki’s crimson eyes flick around the room, noticing the club-goers watching them in awe.
“Let’s get outta here,” he grumbles lowly. “Too many eyes.” Sero gives a nod before raising his elbows and shooting several yards of sticky tape at you and Mina. You girls shriek as the tape sticks to your wrists and ankles, tying them together so movement is near impossible. Before you can protest, Katsuki is hosting you over his shoulder while Kiri scoops Mina up bridal style, much to her dismay. 
“Wait!” you shout, batting your fists against Katsuki’s muscular back. “Put me down!” This only gets you a hard smack on the ass that has you gasping and tears stinging in your eyes. It only gets worse as he travels through the club and you catch the wandering eyes of strangers. Some of their phones out, taking pictures and recording, laughing and gossiping. It’s so humiliating. All you want to do is hide under your covers and never come out again. 
You’ve never felt more revealed until you’re outside at the valet, the cool air soothing your clammy, hot skin. When you finally get to the sleek, black Range Rover that the boys each share among each other (you have a white one while Mina’s is pink), Katsuki and Kiri finally lower you and Mina down onto the pavement. You don’t bother pulling down your dress, your dignity already ruined. 
Katsuki looks like he’s about to blow a damn fuse judging from the vein pulsing in his neck. “Can’t believe you two did this shit,” he angrily growls. “Had me stressin’ at work, blowin’ up your goddamn phone, wondering if you two were okay…only to see that you two brats were flashin’ your pussies for those two extras in there.” You stare down at your shoes, pissed at your boyfriends’ behavior but also at your own. You just wanted some attention is all. 
Mina peers up at Katsuki through her black lashes with her ink-black eyes, her lips smudged of her lipgloss. “Katsuki,” she weakly says. Katsuki’s eyes sharpen at his government name being used. “Who?” he growls, crossing his beefy arms over his chest. You and Mina share the same ‘uh-oh’ look, realizing that your man has now switched into fully Daddy Dom mode. You’re sure the other three have done the same. And that is so, so hot. 
Mina nervously licks her lips, squeezing her thighs together. “D-Daddy,” she whimpers. “Please, guys, it was all my idea. I wanted to–“ 
“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki growls. Mina buttons her lip as he opens the door to the backseat, jutting his chin inside the car. “Get your asses in the car, now.” You and Mina have no choice but to climb into the backseat of the car, getting two harsh smacks on the ass in the process. Denki and Sero get in behind you and position themselves in their seats first before having you and Mina sit in their laps. 
When Katsuki and Kiri get in the front seats, Katsuki practically jams his key into the ignition and tails out of the valet like a bat out of hell. He has gotten plenty of tickets before for his driving which becomes exceedingly more reckless when he is pissed. Only now now he is pissed and also horny: a dangerous combination. Kiri turns on the stereo and bumps a City Girls song; one that you particularly like and always gets you dancing. 
Denki grips your hips from underneath you, nearly digging his nails into your mini dress. 
“Oooh, you two are gonna get it at home,” he growls, a devious edge to his voice. You sit rigidly on top of him, legs closed and hands in your lap. “But before that happens…” You feel his warm hand on your cheek, turning you to face him and those electric, golden eyes. “Now show us exactly what you were doin’ with those two in there, princess,” he hums. “It was pretty good music. I bet you were grinding this pussy all over them on that dance floor, weren’t you?” 
His hands slide down your sides to your thighs, squeezing them generously, before using one hand to pry your legs open to reveal your glittery thong. You whimper as his fingers begin to slide up and down the tiny cloth covering above your pussy. “Mmm, so wet already,” he coos to you. “Was that because of those guys or ‘cause you knew we’d fuck you up when you finally got home?” 
You don’t answer, not sure how to. Plus, Denki’s fingers rubbing circles around your clit is making it hard to think straight. “Katsuki, turn up the music,” he orders. The platinum-blonde glaringly stares at his golden-haired boyfriend through the rearview mirror. “Don’t tell me what to do,” he growls, but does so anyway. The music is soon bumping through the speakers as Katsuki zooms down the highway, swerving lanes like a madman. 
Denki begins to swerve and swirl his hips underneath you, bumping his hard-on against your pussy and ass. “Dance for us, princess,” he demands, taking his hand to give your thigh a smack. He turns to Mina who has her skirt up her thighs, Sero’s hands all over her. “That goes for you too, Pinkie. Show us exactly how hard you got those losers in there.” 
You press your lips together disapprovingly. “But they weren’t–“ You’re cut off by a sharp hiss from your lips when Denki grabs your hair, yanking on it. “Is that lip?” he asks, a growl in his voice. Heat pools between your thighs at his switch in character. Usually, though mischievous, Denki is very laid-back, so to see him way out of his element and being so dominant with you is a major turn-on for you. You slowly shake your head and he releases your hair though your scalp stings. “That’s what I thought. Now get to it.” 
So you and Mina dance for the men sitting underneath you, your asses twirling and grinding into their laps and hardened cocks underneath their pants. You place your hands firmly on Denki’s knees and your feet on the car floor as you toot your ass up and down for him, shaking it as much as you can in the backseat. The more you dance, the more Denki ogles and grabs, the more turned-on he gets. 
“Look at this lil’ dress ridin’ up,” he coos, his hands back under your dress. “I bet it was like that on the dance floor, wasn’t it? And what’s this here?” He roughly pulls you back down to sit on his lap and lifts your dress up high to reveal your sparkly thong. “My favorite thong too?” A deep, aroused growl emits from his throat. “I didn't realize you were wearin’ it, babe. You’re just lookin’ to get fucked, aren’t you?” 
He begins to rub circles along your clit again, sending sparks of pleasure deep into your core. Before you can say anything to stop him, his fingers are creeping under your thong to move them aside, revealing your aching, puffy, wet pussy to him, Sero, and Kiri and Katsuki who stare in the rearview mirror. “Denki,” you whimper, your thighs quivering as his fingers ghost over your pussy, teasing you even more. 
“You’re wearin’ that glittery shit?” Katsuki rumbles, his knuckles turning white from how tight he’s gripping the wheel. “You’re gonna fuckin’ get it later, I hope you know that.” 
“This one ain’t no better,” Sero comments along with Mina’s soft whimpers. You turn, finding his fingers under Mina’s dress. “Just look at this shit!” He cackles as he lifts her dress up to reveal her bare, apple-bottomed, pink ass to the whole car. Kiri turns around now, staring into the backseat. “No panties, babe?” he laughs in awe. “Guess you two were desperate for everyone to know how slutty you are.” 
You watch as Sero begins to toy with Mina, pressing his mouth on both of her asscheeks to nibble and kiss at them. Mina wantonly moans, her eyes fluttering closed as her boyfriend’s hands move to her sides, his fingers sliding up and down them. You’re so distracted that you don’t even realize that Denki has removed his hand from your thong to replace them with his knee. His solid knee feels so good on your throbbing pussy and clit, giving you the relief you need as you begin to grind your cunt against his thigh. “Denki,” you whimper. “Please.” 
Denki moves his hand to place on your throat, not squeezing but letting you know it’s there. “Please what, princess?” he hums. “Hm? You wanna stop?” You weakly shake your head, words dying in your throat as whimpers and moans bubble to the surface. Denki chuckles and grips your neck harder now, causing you to gasp. “Of course, you don’t, you little slut,” he whispers into your ear. “Of course you like grinding on my thigh like the desperate cumslut you are.” 
“Fuck, Sero!” Mina suddenly squeals from beside you. In the haze of your pleasure, you turn, finding Mina with her legs open wide and Sero’s finger curling into her wet pussy. As he slowly fingerfucks her, you can hear how wet Mina’s pussy is, the lewd sounds making you grind harder against Denki’s thigh. 
“Fuck!” Katsuki grunts. “I can hear how wet they are. You two brats are lucky I’m driving.” Kiri is just about dying, ogling at the two of you from the passenger’s seat. “God, that’s so hot,” he groans. “I can't wait to get you two home.” 
And only when you two get home. Making that clear, Denki forces you to stop by gripping your waist and Sero pauses his fingerfucking to give you both a firm glare. “Don’t cum,” Katsuki orders, staring sharply at both of you girls in the rearview mirror. “Neither one of you. If you cum now, you won’t be able to cum later, understood?” 
Though dizzy with pleasure, you and Mina manage to answer him the way he wants to be answered: “Yes, daddy,” you both weakly say, chests heaving, hearts racing, and pussies wet. 
When you finally get in the house fifteen minutes later after flying across the city, you barely have any time to get your shoes off before the boys are hustling you and Mina upstairs. At some point, Katsuki throws you over his shoulder and Kiri hikes Mina up in his arms, running up the steps with you girls as you squeal in protest. When you get to your master bedroom, Katsuki kicks the door open and tosses you onto the bed. You shriek as you go flying before hitting the mattress, bouncing a bit as you do. 
Mina goes flying too as Kiri tosses her down beside you. You two them lay on your backs, staring up at your four boyfriends looming over your tinier figures, staring down at you almost predator-like. “What should we do with them first?” Denki excitedly asks, lust in his eyes. Katsuki deviously smirks at you and Mina, filling you with dread. “I’ve got just the thing,” he chuckles before glaring down at you girls. “Get on your knees, hands behind your back.” 
Sharing a withering look, you and Mina slowly do as Katsuki says. As you sit with your pretty asses facing them in such a submissive position, the four groan at the sight, making you bite your lip in utter anticipation. The throbbing in your pussy only gets worse when Sero reapplies the tape to your ankles and wrists, making it hard to move or escape. You’ve never been this horny before. What is it about pissing your boyfriends off that makes you so damn wet? 
Sero then steps back to admire his handiwork. “Now neither one of you can run from us,” he deviously hums. “We can do whatever the fuck we want with you now.” That turns you on even more: to be so helpless under their touches; to be completely at their mercy. Sero runs a finger down your cheek, his touch making you quiver. ”But you wouldn’t run away even if you didn’t have my tape wrapped around your wrists, would you?” 
You know the answer: hell no. And Mina knows it too. 
“Bend ‘em over,” Katsuki grunts, foreplay be damned. “I need to teach these two greedy sluts a lesson in obedience.” Sero and Kiri do as they are ordered and position you and Mina so you’re both bent over, knees and the soles of your feet dug into the mattress. “Are we being punished?” Mina asks, her voice slightly muffled from the mattress. 
You adjust your head slightly to look behind you, finding Katsuki glaring at her from above. He then yanks her skirt over her pink ass before doing the same to you, leaving the thong on. “What the fuck do you think?” he hisses before his hand is colliding with the meat of her ass. A loud whine leaves Mina’s lips and you flinch at the harsh sound of skin colliding with skin. 
You don’t have much time to prepare when Katsuki is giving you the same treatment. His hands are rough from years of pro-hero work, so his slaps hurt like hell. They are rough and sting like fire licking across your skin. You gasp and gnaw harshly on your lip to avoid crying out. He continues to do this to both you and Mina, making your asses jiggle and tears spring into your eyes. “Is this what you wanted?” he grunts. “To get punished like this? Make me lose my mind like this?” 
You dig your face into the mattress, muffling your screams of pain at merciless spanks. Finally, Kiri tags in, putting a hand on Katsuki’s chest to stop him. “My turn,” he darkly chuckles. “Brace yourself, ladies. You know my hand is heavy.” And boy, is it. Way more than Katsuki’s because of his quirk. His hands are hard and rough, his palms calloused. 
And they hurt even worse when they collide with your ass. Adding new, fresh spanks on top of the ones Katsuki already gave you is the worse pain you’ve ever felt. It’s excruciating. You’re so sure that your ass is red despite your skin tone at this point with how harsh Kiri is being.
“Don’t flinch,” he orders. “You wanted this shit, then you’ve got it. All the attention you could ask for. He gives both you and Mina the same treatment, wailing in on your asses like he's trying to get some gold rings out of you. He babbles about how fat your asses are and how they jiggle whenever he smacks them, obviously enjoying how they move.
Then it’s Denki’s turn. Ever the sadist, when he brings his hand down upon you, he makes sure to slip his quirk in too. As his hand collides with your ass, a tiny spark shoots from his palm to your ass straight through your ass. You quiver and shake at the short electrocution, a gasp leaving your lips. “Oops!” he mockingly says. “Guess I let my quirk slip.” Though you can’t see it with your face still in the mattress, you can hear Mina’s shriek and feel her body shivering when Denki gives her the same treatment. 
“Fuck, that shiver was so cute,” Kiri groans. “Do that again, Denks.” Denki does so to both you and Mina, giving you two shock after shock. Each one is more intense than the next, making you feel as if you are repeatedly being poked with an electric rod. Then it’s Sero’s turn and though he gives your asses some wet kisses first to soothe the pain, all of that goes to shit when his hands collide with your asscheeks too. 
Minutes feel like hours the more hits you take from them, one after the other. Your and Mina’s cries fill the bedroom, bouncing off of the walls for no one to hear. Your ass begins to ache and sting to the point where you’re crying, the comforter wet beneath you. “Please stop!” you tearfully beg. “It hurts!” Mina sniffles beside you, softly crying at the pain. 
Though the spanks luckily stop, you feel two rough, thick fingers peel your soaked thong away from your cunt and playing with your pussy, easing some of the fiery stings along your asscheeks. “Your pussy says something completely different,” Katsuki tsks. “Little slut. You still need to be taught a lesson, don’t you?” You then suddenly feel his thick, wet tongue sliding along your wet folds, sucking on your pussy lips and on the sensitive bud of your clit. Your mouth falls open at the feeling, your ass shamelessly arching into his face. “F-Fuck, ‘Suki!” you moan. 
You turn your head to look at Mina, finding Kiri kneeling behind her ass, his hands prying her cheeks apart. “Don’t think you don’t get the same treatment, bratty girl,” he teasingly purrs before his mouth is on Mina’s pretty, pink pussy, devouring every inch of it. 
Katsuki isn’t at all slow or loving. He eats every single part of your pussy, sucking harshly on the right places and being more gentle yet merciless with the other, more sensitive parts of you. You even feel his finger sliding against the puckered hole of your asshole, making your body quiver from the sheer among of pleasure you’re feeling. The sounds that leave your lips are loud and lewd, bouncing off of the bedroom walls. From beside you, you can hear the sobbing, wet sounds of Kiri licking Mina’s pussy as she moans and whines, her face buried deep into the bed. Katsuki pulls away from your clit momentarily to bark, “Sero, Denki; plug up those other holes of there’s.” 
You weakly look up to find Denki and Sero kneeling in front of you and Mina, looking excited and extremely devilish. “Oooh, I love this part,” Denki happily sighs. “I’ve been wantin’ to fuck their throats all night!” He settles in front of Mina, forcing her to look up at him by gripping her hair and hoisting her up onto her forearms. He then yanks down his pants with one hand, revealing his hardened cock protruding from a patch of golden, trimmed curls. 
Sero smirks down at you, his hands working his zipper down. “Guess I get you tonight, mami,” he purrs. “No matter. Both of your pretty little throats make me happy either way.” Then his pants are coming off too, revealing a hard, thick cock jumping against his toned lower stomach, the boubous head bubbling with precum. “Open up,” he growls and you have no choice but to do so when Katsuki plunges his tongue inside of your pussy, tongefucking you without warning. As your mouth opens on a long whine, Sero plunges his cock deep into your mouth. 
“That’s it, mama,” he groans as his thick cock stretches out your mouth. “Take me deep. Don’t be distracted.” You whine around his length, nearly choking it from how deep it goes until you nearly feel it touch the back of your throat.
“Fuck!” Sero growls, his hand moving to the back of your head to wind your braids around his fist. It becomes even harder to focus when he begins fucking your face, his stomach pressing against your nose again and again as he plunges his dick in and out of your mouth, emitting gargled gasps and muffled whines from you. 
While all you smell and taste is Sero, you don’t just feel his thick cock stretching your jaw. The fact that you feel him and Katsuki both fucking your holes makes it so hard to focus on anything. You feel yourself going slack, your limbs growing tired and your jaw aching from Sero repeatedly fucking your throat. “This is what you wanted, right?” he grunts, the black hairs from his mullet in his face. “You just wanted to get fucked like the sweet lil’ slut you are?” 
You gargle in response and he removes his cock, now dripping in your saliva, from your mouth. You are awarded air then and gulp down as much as you can, coughing. Sero grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Sorry, mama; I couldn’t hear you,” he chuckles. “Now say it again. Let the guys hear you.” 
You can tell without looking that Katsuki, Kiri, and Denki are listening intently to you, waiting for you to say what they already know. Sero squeezes your cheeks together, making it hard to speak, but you manage to do so, your voice soft and weak from your throat being fucked. “Yes, papi,” you answer, peering up at Sero through your lashes. “Your baby girl just wanted to get fucked. We both did.” Mina wines pitifully beside you, proving your statement. 
This makes your boys go completely feral. Sero plugs your mouth back with his cock and fucks it like it’s his last time doing so, Denki following suit with Mina’s throat. Katsuki is having a ball behind you, his hands roughly gripping your ass and his tongue flicking along your clit the way you like. “Slutty lil’ bimbo, makin’ me so worried for you,” he growls into your cunt, the vibrations filling your core with pleasure. “All just ‘cause you wanted some dick.” His tongue then plunges deep into your pussy, making you whine around Sero’s cock. 
It doesn’t take long for Sero or Denki to cum. You know Sero is close by how hard he starts gripping your hair, nearly yanking the braids out of your scalp. His thrusts are rougher and harder, his abs slamming against your mouth and his heavy balls swinging against your chin. “Gonna cum,” he growls. “Such a good girl takin’ this dick, baby.” 
Denki is whining, overly-dramatic mess. His moans are loud and bounce off the walls as he slams his cock deep into Mina’s throat while Kiri continues to eat her out like she’s his last meal. “Gonna cum!” Denki shouts, his head thrown back in ecstasy. “Gonna cum deep down your slutty throat!” Mina whines is response as Kiri nibbles lightly on her pussy lips with his sharp teeth, chuckling at her reactions. 
You get no kind of warning when Sero finally floods your mouth with his cum, swearing in Spanish as he does so. There is so much nut that it spills out of your mouth and dribbles down your chin. “Hold it,” he demands as he slips his semi-hard cock out of your mouth. “Lemme see my cum in your mouth, puta.”
You carefully tilt your chin up to hold his cum in your mouth, showing the creamy substance on your tongue. Sero grins down at you proudly. “Good girl,” he coos, pecking your forward. “Now swallow.” 
As soon as Denki and Sero cum in your and Mina’s mouth, you know that you’re deep in for a night of punishment. The rest of the things your men do to you and your girlfriend are one torturous yet pleasurable blur that is only heightened by the weed you smoked and the shots of alcohol you threw back earlier at the club. Katsuki and Kiri don’t let you or Mina cum, pulling away when you’re just about to burst all over their faces. “Not yet,” Katsuki growls. “You two sluts don't get to cum until we say so.” 
Before you know what’s happening, Sero is repositioning your tired arms up high over your head and laying you down on your back so you’re side by side with Mina. You stare into her inkwell eyes and at her soft, pink lips when you’re both suddenly filled by Katsuki and Kiri at the same time. Kiri and Katsuki switch between you and Mina’s pussies, taking turns filling you and fucking you dumb into the mattress. 
Kiri is more loving and slow with his strokes but still all the more merciless. He slings your leg over his broad shoulder and kisses your foot while his cock fills you, stroking the wet, gummy walls of your pussy. “So good,” he groans, his face as red as his hair. “You feel so good around me, baby girl. Keep grippin’ me just like that.” More praise and sweet nothings leave his lips as he pummels you as hard as you want, relishing the broken moans and whines that leave your lips. 
Meanwhile, Katsuki is rough, wild, and feral. He fucks you into the bed in a mating press position, his feet on the bed and his dick pummeling into your pussy over and over again. Squelching sounds emit from down below as your juices and flavored lube slip down your asscrack to the bed, making your walls even slipperier and causing Katsuki to have an easier time fucking you silly. His large hand grips your throat and his nose touches yours, making the sex even more intense with him so close. “You like that, slut?” he snarls in your face. “You like me fucking you dumb?”
All you can do is whine in response. Words are meaningless at this point. Katsuki forces you to open your mouth and spits in it in response before swirling his tongue with yours, tasting himself.
While Sero sits against the headboard, lazily stroking his cock to the sights and sounds of his girls, Denki gets right in the mix. His sneaky fingers tweak and tug on your nipples and play with your clit while Kiri and Katsuki continue to plunge deep into your squelching, sobbing, wet pussies over and over again. Every single touch from Denki is twinged with a zap of electricity that sends you farther over the edge, trying to balance that pain and pleasure. 
You don’t even realize that you’re drooling until Denki points it out. “Awww, she’s drooling!” he cackles. He leans in close to you despite Katsuki still pounding you into the bed.
His thumb swipes across your bottom lip to catch your saliva and he sucks on his thumb, humming at the taste of you. “Is Bakugou fucking you dumb, slutty girl, hm?” he teasingly asks. "Or am I just fryin’ that pretty brain of yours?” You whine weakly in response, too distracted by Katsuki’s delicious cock bullying your insides. 
When Katsuki finally cums inside of you, it’s messy and big. He cums with an uncharacteristic, almost animalistic roar as he spills his nut deep inside of your cunt, his hand still pinning you to the bed. Kiri cums too, a loud moan of Mina’s name leaving his lips as he nuts deep inside of her tight walls. You girls take every ounce of their cum, just as you do when they flip you back over onto your hands and knees.
They don’t allow you to recover or rest. “Sluts don't get to rest,” Katsuki tells you, a dark chuckle in his voice. “They only get what they deserve. And you two bimbos deserve to be fucked until your pussies are mush.” 
And he sticks to his word. Each one of them do. When you and Mina are flipped back onto your hands and knees, your men plug up your pretty, wet holes again. Katsuki and Kiri fuck your throats while Denki and Sero kneel behind you, plunging their cocks deep inside of your pussies to fuck you doggystyle.
You get Denki this time and shit, are you in for it. The man makes sure you fuck you stupid, his foot on the bed and hands grappling your tits to zap your poor little nipples. He even dips under your thighs to rub your clit, his fingertips pulsing with electricity. It has you whimpering and shivering as the short currents of electricity course through you. 
When he finally cums inside of you, you’re just about done and filled to the brim, but then Kiri takes you. He has you lay down on your stomach and fucks you prone bone style. “Don't do anything, baby,” he coos as his cock strokes your sensitive, gushy walls. “Just lemme do all the work, m’kay? Be a good girl and take me.” 
And you do. You don’t have much of a choice. You can only lie there and let Kiri fuck your body like his own personal fleshlight, his thick cock sliding against your G-spot. Your body is tired and your pussy is screaming for release, but Kiri doesn’t let you cum. Neither of them let Mina cum either. She is spread out against the headboard, Denki’s face in her pussy while Katsuki and Sero have their cocks in her face, taking turns sliding them in and out of her wet mouth. 
When Kiri cums, it is just as messy and explosive as Katsuki’s nut is. He grips your hips and pins you down to the bed as his big body tenses above you, pleasure coursing through his veins. “Fuck!” he whines, the sound nearly pushing you over the edge. “Such a good girl!” And like a good girl, you take every ounce of his cum pumping inside of you, groaning softly as you feel it slide down your thighs. 
“Goddammit, please, daddies!” Mina sobs. “Please just let us cum!” She is only met with callused laughter from the guys, humored at her pain. “You cum when we say so,” Katsuki growls. “Now shut the fuck up and get on your fuckin’ knees for us so you can have your treat.” 
Mina does as she is told, sliding onto her knees on the bed in front of you. You barely know what’s happening, too exhausted and dazed to realize it. When you suddenly feel Mina’s tongue sliding against your cum-covered, fucked-silly pussy, her hands prying your legs apart, your soul just about leaves your body. “N-No,” you weakly protest. “No, please…t-too much! Please, daddies, stop!” 
Your sobs and pleas of mercy fall on deaf ears as Katsuki, Kiri, and Sero surround you once more, their hard cocks and gorgeous bodies in your face. Denki situates himself behind Mina and slides inside of her as she eats you out. He doesn’t take his time or let her adjust first before fucking deep into her, his stomach slamming against her ass and his fingers tweaking her nipples, emitting screams and wails from her as she greedily eats your cunt. 
“Shut up and open your mouth,” Katsuki cooly says. “Or you don’t cum at all tonight. Believe me, baby: you know we’ll do it.”
That threat is worse than death to you at this point, so you open your mouth and let the trio fuck your throat raw and yank on your braids. They start to morph into one the more you endure, each cock becoming more of the same one. You’re losing it, the combination of pain and pleasure fogging your brain and making reality nothing more than an illusion. 
“Such a good little toy for us,” Kiri coos, watching you take Katsuki’s cock with awe, his hand pumping his own in time with his boyfriend’s thrusts. Sero does the same, stroking his dick right next to your face. “Does our little girl wanna cum?” he teases. “You wanna cum all over Mina’s face while she creams on Denki’s dick?” 
You lazily nod with tears pricking your eyes despite Katsuki’s cock in your throat while Mina eagerly moans in agreement, her tongue slashing your clit again and again. You can feel your body getting closer to that release. You don’t know what you’ll do if they deny your release again.
Fortunately, that doesn’t happen. To your shock and relief, Katsuki pulls his cock out of your mouth and pumps it right in your face, his hand working himself furiously. “Cum for us, slut,” he demands. “Both of you. Do it now before I change my mind.” 
‘Finally,’ you think. You sob in delirious happiness while Mina babbles grateful thanks into your cunt. “Thank you, daddies!” she whines as Denki fucks her harder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
You swear that when you cum, it’s an out-of-body experience. Your soul practically leaves you and sees heaven when the pleasure washes over you, plunging you into a sea of bliss. Your orgasm rips through you at the same time as Mina, your moans and screams of release filling the bedroom. 
When you burst all over Mina’s face, she eagerly and hungrily cleans you up, sucking on your inner thighs and sliding her tongue down your asscrack to catch the rest of your cum. When she picks up her head to stare at you from between your thighs, her mouth is coated in your juices, making her lips shine with you. “God, that’s so hot!” Denki pitifully whines. “I’m gonna cum so hard!” 
“Not inside of her, Denks,” Kiri warns, his teeth gritted as his orgasm begins to rise. “Do it on her face. Come over here and help us coat their pretty faces.” Denki doesn’t need to be told twice. He slides out of Mina and practically tosses her beside you, forcing your faces to tilt up at them. 
Just as they like, you stick your tongues out and keep your eyes on them and their cocks, hypnotized at how fast their hands pump their cocks. Just for their girls. Their grunts and moans fill the air, making your sensitive pussies throb despite just cumming, signaling that they’re close. “This is what you get,” Katsuki grunts. “This is what you get for bein’ brats.” 
You and Mina get the point when your men finally cum all over you. You get no warning, but even if you did, you would still be surprised at how much there is. Their cum is explosive and messy, coating your faces, lips, tits, and even sliding down your stomaches. Cries and growls of unison fill the air as their nut splashes all over your skin, coating you in their scent and making a very clear statement: ‘You’re ours.’ A delirious laugh bubbles from deep in your chest when their warm cum splashes all over you, the intensity of tonight finally ebbing. 
Finally free from the constraints of edge play, you and Mina fall back onto the mattress side by side, exhausted, spent, and still covered in cum. The boys recover above you, breathing raggedly and coated in sweat. “Well,” Sero huffs, “that was something.” Denki laughs from beside him. “I’ll say!” 
Kiri tilts his head up to the ceiling, his muscles glistening in perspiration. “I think we’re all in need of a hot bath,” he sighs. “Anybody in for a dip in our whirlpool tub for the night?” The guys hum in agreement. Though you want to agree too, all you can let out is a tiny, weak moan. 
“We’re all takin’ a bath,” Katsuki gruffly states, “but before that, I need an answer." You suddenly feel him hover over you, his crimson eyes glaring at you and Mina. “So are you gonna pull that shit again with us?” he asks, his voice dangerously low and daring you to fuck with him. 
You and Mina stare at each other, exhaustion written all over your sticky faces. You each turn back to your boyfriends sitting above you and shake your heads. “No, daddies,” you obediently reply. “We promise we won’t.” 
The boys grin proudly and each press a wet kiss to your lips in appreciation for your obedience.
But even they know that’s a damn lie, and they look forward to the next time they’ll get to teach you and Mina a lesson. 
THE END.
1K notes · View notes
lasciviouspoison · 1 year ago
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omg! my boyfriend is a big sexy boxer!
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oh em gee, happy kinktobaaaaaa!!!!!! lmfao, here’s a small gift from me :)
i got kinda carried away with this plot line, lol. tw: tojixchubby!reader, boxer!toji, implied black/poc!reader, implied age gap (reader in early 20s, toji late 20s/early 30s), afab reader, oral sex (f receiving), pussydrunk!toji, cockdrunk!reader, hints of self insert (sorry :/ ) and anything else i might’ve forgotten! love ya, mwah!
~~~
toji fushiguro was one of the best heavyweight boxers of the current day. he was agile, extremely strong, and never lacked in stamina. he was a staggering 6’3 and was over 250 pounds of pure muscle. littered in tattoos from head to toe, toji was a force to be reckoned with.
not to mention, he was hot as fuck. almost every hour on the hour, there was someone on the internet raving about how sexy he was. he had literally gotten invited to read dirty tweets not once, but twice because of the general influx of them.
however, no one other than those closest to toji knew about you.
you, the pretty journalist who he had seen at his first press release for the upcoming fight. he was taken aback by your casualness. while the majority your peers wore ugly suits and skirts, you were simply dressed in baggy jeans and a t-shirt. your curly hair was down, slightly touching your shoulder blades and he could see the tattoos you had up your arm and neck.
toji’s mouth watered at the sight of you. he couldn’t wait for the moment in which you raised your hand to ask him a question out of those pretty pouty lips.
after the release, he made it a point to ask his manager, shiu, to call you into the back for an “exclusive interview” with the most successful fighter on the block.
and by interview, i mean toji asked you for your number and you, albeit anxiously, agreed.
and four months later, he’s been stuck to you like glue. he’s taken you on so many dates, he always pops in to see you whenever he has the time after training, and he just recently popped the question, asking you to officially be his partner.
however, toji also does the best he can to not prematurely intertwine his life with yours.
you were still a college student, finally making your way to the end of your junior year. your life was slow and steady, yet exciting. you had a few great friends who supported you through everything, yet, they still knew nothing about your little rendezvous with toji.
meanwhile, everything was about to change at toji’s most recent weigh-in. after his opponent and himself stepped on the scale, the promoters decided it would be a good idea to bring the two back out and open the floor for questions.
of course you were in the crowd, not only to support your man, which felt amazing to finally say, but to watch and learn from your mentor. however, to everyone’s surprise, toji’s opponent had an announcement to make before the questions began.
he stood up and gave the crowd and smile before pointing directly at you, “everyone see that beautiful lady right there? i’m gonna beat the shit outta this man over here and take her home with me afterwards. ya like the sound of that sweetheart?”
toji’s eyes immediately found yours and once he seen them begin to gloss over, he couldn’t help but find himself running out of his chair, attempting to prematurely pummel his opponent. while both security teams tried to hold him back, you were being escorted out of the area and into the back rooms.
shortly after, your face was all over media outlets as they attempted to figure out who you were and your association to toji.
which brings us to now.
“baby please, talk to me. m’beggin here”. toji’s been standing outside of his master bathroom for a total of 20 minutes attempting to get you to at least calm down. you had been crying since the weigh-in, refusing to see him. the only reason you were here was because shiu redirected your driver back to toji’s home without your knowledge.
“go away! go get ready for your fight and leave me alone!” you could admit you sounded childish, but you didn’t care. it was one thing to be publicly embarrassed like that, but to now have the whole world know that you were somehow connected to toji was awful. you wanted to do that on your own terms, especially since the two of you are just barely reaching the “official” stage in your relationship.
toji grabbed the locked door knob and twisted, “yn please just come out and talk to me. lemme help you, baby, please.” while toji prided himself on never begging for anything, you were an exception to the rule.
suddenly the door swung open and he was met with your puffy red eyes and lips. despite knowing the weight of the situation, he couldn’t help but feel his dick twitch upon seeing how beautiful you looked after crying. he’d be sure to tell you that later.
“there’s nothing you can do. everyone’s gonna figure out i’m your girlfriend and my life is gonna be turned upside down”. you could feel your throat begin to constrict once again. all you wanted was to crawl into a hole and never come back up.
toji stroked your hair and brought you to his chest, “i can’t make that go away baby, and i’m sorry. but what i can do is try to make this as seamless as possible for you. things don’t have to change overnight, we can still go slow”.
he could feel you shake your head, “it’s not gonna work like that toji, you and i both know that. my fucking mom has already called me to ask about us and i don’t know what to tell her.”
toji cocked his head to the side and scrunched his brows, “tell her we’re together?”
you pushed him back and little and laughed, “oh my god toji, are you fucking dense? you’re missing the point.”
he wanted to kick himself for being so careless. obviously toji knew that the situation ran deeper than the two of you simply dating. but, he at least figured that you wouldn’t be scared to tell your mom.
alas, he was wrong.
toji took a deep breath, “don’t cuss at me when i haven’t cussed at you. i’m trying to help and you’re throwing a tantrum. the situation isn’t fair to either of us yn, and we both know it.”
you gave him one more good look before you took a step back into the bathroom and slammed the door in his face.
~~~
the fight was in 20 minutes and toji’s heart was pounding. his adrenaline was rushing throughout his body and all he could think of was your crying face and what that ugly fucker said to you earlier.
in every sense of the word, he was pissed.
he had left you back in the hands of your mentor, granting the two of you front row seats. although you could feel everyone’s eyes staring at the back of your head, you held your composure.
you could feel your mentor squeeze your hand, “i know it’s not my place, but don’t beat yourself up over what happened earlier yn, especially if you’re happy. if the two of you are together, just leave it at that. you don’t have to explain yourself to anyone, i promise.”
you reached over and gave her a hug, letting yourself finally feel the embrace of someone who cared about you. however, the sweet moment was interrupted when the announcer came out to introduce toji’s opponent.
you felt like a fish being gutted while watching him walk down the isle. his entourage behind him, making him look even weaker than he was. and the most disgusting part was him catching your eye after bouncing around the stage and winking.
toji swore he was gonna kill him. he was gonna rip his gloves off with his teeth and jam his thumbs into his eyes. taunting him was different, it was part of the sport. but making a show out of his lady was something that toji was gonna lay his ass out for.
everyone watched as the announcer made his way back into the middle of the ring and grabbed the microphone to speak once more, “ladies and gentleman! please give it up for your reigning heavyweight champion, toji fushiguro!”
the screams from the crowd jolted your body awake, firing your adrenaline on all cylinders. it was at this moment when you realized you were dating toji-fucking -fushiguro and you weren’t gonna let his scum of an opponent make you feel any less because of it.
when toji got to the ring, he removed his robe and only glared at his opponent. it was scarier than seeing him move around with the crowd because to the three of you, this was way more than a fight.
you don’t know what caused you to do it, but you walked up to the ring and called out his name. he started to squat down to speak to you, but instead watched you climbed inside to stand before him. he could see that you had your hands bawled up beside your hips and he laughed a little.
you looked at his opponent and back at him. finally, you slung your arm around him and pulled him in to where only he could hear you, “put his ass to sleep for me toji” and with a kiss to his cheek, you made your descent out of the ring.
suddenly toji was ablaze. in an instant, he transformed from his regular, stern self to the fighter, entertainer, and winner. everyone that could see him on the Jumbotron and television could see that whatever you had said to him was gonna determine the fate of this match.
~~~
2 rounds, 4 minutes and 29 seconds was all it took for toji to lay his opponent out flat. he didn’t need confirmation from the referee before he spit out his mouth guard and roared at the crowd. he could see you standing there in awe at him and it was the cutest thing he had ever seen.
eventually, toji was allowed to say his peace before existing the ring and of course, the world waited at the edge of their seats for the update on what was seen earlier.
toji couldn’t even think straight when it came time for him to talk. the only thing on his mind was you. ynynynyn was all that kept replaying in his mind before he said this, “i want the entire fucking world to know that she’s my girl. she’s been mine since i first seen her and i wouldn’t want it any other way. baby, i love you.”
by this point, you were backstage with his team watching his commentary on a flatscreen. all you wanted to do was wrap your arms around him, but that would have to wait a little longer.
finally, toji walked into the back room, fully changed out of his fighting clothes, and all but stalked his way to you. he embraced you so tightly, you felt like he could snap you in half.
you pulled away from him and and pecked his cheek, “you love me toji?”.
he shook his head, “since the day i met you.”
and while tears were beginning to well in your eyes, toji was throwing you over his shoulder and heading towards his car. with the shouts of his team behind him, the only thing on his mind was getting you home and fucking you till you cried.
he sped home in dangerous silence, alternating from his hand gently squeezing your thigh to slightly rubbing this thumb up as high as you’d allow.
he didn’t even bother to park correctly before he flung his door open. toji sprinted to your side and lifted you out. you could hear his heavy breathing as he traveled through his penthouse lobby and into the elevator.
he body caged you in and his breath fanned your nose. “don’t mean to be rough. hope i’m not scarin ya” he chuckled out.
“no baby. you’re not scaring me at all.” he was, in fact, doing the opposite. you were so turned on, you hoped it wasn’t leaking through your jeans.
toji gripped your face and kissed you roughly. it was much different from the small kisses you shared, but neither of you cared. before separating for air, he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled, groaning at the sight of how innocent you looked.
after the long awaited ding of the elevator, toji grabbed your arm and pulled you towards his door.
he slung you inside and tossed you over his shoulder, once again, as he led you to the bedroom.
he gently set you down on the bed and removed his black hoodie, exposing his tattooed body. you could still see how hard he was breathing and touched his stomach to try and call him down. yet even from that innocent little touch, he was all the more hard at the sight of you.
he wordlessly took off your shoes and stood up to kiss you again. you could feel him unbuckle your jeans and your hands made their way to his pants. he moved one hand to yours and removed them from his sweats, causing you to pull back from his mouth.
the confusion lacing your face was so cute, but he needed to take his time with you. “this ain’t about me sweet girl, g’nna take my time with you and this pretty body. ‘kay?”
without giving you a chance to respond, he finally pulled your pants off in one go, and kneeled between your legs. he brought his knuckle up to your pretty pink panties and nudged at the wet spot. he licked his lips slightly and kissed your thigh.
“gonna let me eat this pretty pussy baby, yeah? wanna feel my tongue don’cha?” he was softly moving your panties to the side and groaned at the sight. your fat pussy was so pretty. cunt so puffy and wet for him, he had to get a taste.
“please toji, just touch me” you whined and toji didn’t need to hear anything else. he pulled your panties fully off and lapped at your clit like a kitten while his fingers made way to your entrance. he pushed his fingers in and you all but screamed, one hand gripping his hair while the other interlocked with his.
toji could die in your cunt and not complain. this was his own personal heaven and he swore to kill the next person who even tried to look at you funny. “yer pussy’s so sweet baby. could eat it all night if ya let me.”
he latched back onto your clit and sucked hard. his middle finger was hitting that spot you could never reach yourself and you felt euphoric. your thick thighs twitched on either side of his head, but toji didn’t care. his only focus was getting you to cum on his tongue.
he could hear your whimpers get louder and your cunt clench against his finger. he knew you were close and didn’t wanna waste anymore time.
“cum for me sweet girl. wanna taste it mama please.”
and you came, hard. your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you were gripping the covers so tightly you swore you’d put holes into it. toji was desperately trying to keep your legs open so he could continue to ravage your cunt, but he eventually opted to rubbing your precious clit while looking at your face.
he loved the sight of you coming down from your high. you looked exactly how you did after you finished crying and toji could feel his dick get impossibly harder in his pants.
he swiped his thumb over your bottom lip causing your tongue to jut out and lick. you tilted your head up a bit and sucked his thumb into your mouth, being sure to release it with a pop.
“want you to fuck me toji. please fuck me. wanna feel it in me”, you all but whined out.
he looked at you starry eyed and placed his hand on your tummy. “you wanna feel me right here baby? want me deep in your little cunny, ain’t that right” he smiled and slapped your ass.
before you could respond, toji reached for your shirt and lifted it above your head. he watched you unclasp your bra and toss it across the room. it was the first time toji had seen your beautiful, chubby body and he couldn’t be more ecstatic. you were so beautiful and he was so happy he could publically call you his.
he slipped his sweats and boxers down in one go. he reached towards his nightstand and pulled out a condom. after ripping it open with his teeth, he rolled it on and positioned himself toward your entrance.
you backed away a bit and he gripped your leg, “don’t run from me. lemme have it”.
you shook your head slightly and looked up at him wide eyed, “s’not gonna fit”.
he laughed a little and leaned down toward your neck, “i’ll make it fit, pretty”. and began to push the tip in.
he was big like you expected, but he did a considerable amount of prep to make this pleasurable for you and him.
he could feel you claw at his back and his teeth grit together. he wanted to push all the way in and fuck you stupid, but he knew he needed to go slow. it was your first time with him and he wanted to make it as special as it could be.
after fully sheathing himself in your cunt, he let out a quick “fuck” before looking into your eyes.
those beautiful e/c eyes he loved looking into so much. so teary and full of pleasure, “want me to move?”
you let out a small yes and toji rocked his hips slightly. he gripped onto the headboard above your head and sped up a little, not wanting to overwhelm you.
eventually, those small, soft strokes weren’t doing enough for you, causing you to get restless. you pushed your hips towards him and whined, “fuck me harder toji!” and that was all it took for him to fuck you like a mad man.
his hand left the headboard and pushed your thighs wider. the weight of toji on your body mixed with his heavy thrusts almost knocked the wind out of you. you were moaning and whimpering and toji loved the sight.
at some point, toji grabbed your leg and angled your anklet clad foot towards his head. he kissed your ankle before smiling down at you, which caused your pussy to gush around his cock.
he could feel your cunt start to pulsate again, all the while toji was reaching his limit too. he wanted you to cum with him, even if he had to withhold his orgasm a bit longer.
he started thumbing your clit while his body pushed your lifted leg further back, allowing him to hit a new spot within your gummy walls. you could feel the slight curve in his dick and it was driving you insane.
you looked up at him and he began to speak. “want you to cum with me baby. can you do that f’r me?”
you shook your head yes embarrassingly fast and toji rubbed your pussy just a tad bit faster.
you moaned and grabbed toji’s shoulders, “‘m gonna cum toji. i’m gonna cum. oh my god ‘m cummin- oh!” toji felt your release on his abdomen and with a loud groan, he released shortly after you.
he let you grind on his cock while you rode out your shared orgasm. he felt like he had died and went to heaven because of your pussy, and slowly but surely, he came down to witness you still twitching and shaking.
he rubbed your face gently and spoke softly, “c’mon baby. come back to me” he repeated his words until you finally let out a deep breath and weakly smiled.
he pulled out of you with a hiss and tied off the condom before disposing of it. he lifted you out of the bed and brought you to the bathroom before running you a nice warm bath. he filled the tub with bubbles and set you in gently before going to clean up the mess you two had made.
once toji came back, he washed you, lotioned you up and dressed you in a big shirt of his and boxers.
as he finally laid you down to sleep, you felt him kiss your forehead. while you knew things would never go back to the way they were, it didn’t matter because now the world knew that toji was, and always will be, yours.
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lanadelnegan · 1 year ago
Text
Tattoo
Pre-apocalypse!Negan x Reader (Negan is y/n's art teacher & also owns a tattoo shop).
Warnings: THIS IS THE FILTHIEST THING I'VE WRITTEN SO FAR and it's just going to get filthier from here on. smut, forbidden love, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 38), angst, oral (female receiving), lots of sexual tension, slow burnnnn.(there's an actual plot this time), vaginal sex, public sex, breeding, slight daddy kink
Summary: After graduating and leaving behind the man she fell for but couldn't have, y/n decides to get a tattoo that reminds her of him. And he gives it to her.
A/n: ugh, this had me in my feels. A "hard to get" teacher Negan. basically you're negan's former student and he gives you a tattoo and things.. well - just read it.
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"Well damn. I don't mean to be sentimental, but I have seriously enjoyed teaching you little shits. I hope you can take what you've learned and apply it to something. Be creative. Oh, and.. don't think about hitting me up on Instagram after this because I don't do social media. That shit is toxic. Remember that, kids."
The bell cuts Negan off before he can finish his inspirational speech. He's always had such a way with words.. should have been an English teacher instead.
Most of the students rush out like the room is on fire, with the exception of a few annoying girls that think he'll jump their bones now that school is out.
"So, Mr. Smith, since you don't have social media, can I get your number at least?" I cringe as she twirls her hair around her finger and her friends giggle obnoxiously behind her.
"Girls. Behave for once. A tip for college? Don't flirt with your professors." He warns while motioning them out the door.
I suddenly realize that my ass has been glued to my seat this entire time and I'm the only one still here. I quickly get up and throw my backpack over one shoulder. He stares at me from the doorway but I just look down as I walk towards him.
"Bye Mr. Smith."
"Nice try. Sit down." He shuts his door and walks back into the room pointing towards my chair for me to sit.
"Mr. Smith, y/n?" He mocks. "Seriously?"
I never call him that. He's always been Negan to me.
I've known him for 4 years now. He's the only art teacher at Alexandria High, and even though I have no interest in art, I've taken his class every year because I do have an interest.. in him.
What he doesn't know is that I've been making mental notes everyday for the past four years about all his interests, personal life, hobbies, you name it.
He loves the color red - because it's the only color expo marker he writes in.
His favorite lunch is two cigarettes and coke zero. I hate that he smokes.
He stopped coaching baseball last year because he said he didn't have time anymore. But I think it's actually because he's never cared for it to begin with.
He had a wife, but she passed away. Some kind of cancer. She's still his computer wallpaper, which tells me he still hasn't moved on even though it was six years ago. My heart hurts for him.
He wasn't lying - he doesn't have social media....I would have found it.
He sits at another student's desk right next to mine with his body facing me.
"You gonna tell me why the hell you look like your best fucking friend just died?"
I stare at the floor next to his shoes and try to think about anything other than fact that I'm never going to see him again.
"Look at me."
I slowly lift my eyes to his and can't stop the tear that escapes the second I see his face.
"Ah, shit." His expression turns serious when he notices my tears. "Look, kid. I -"
"Stop calling me kid." I snap.
He chuckles. "Hate to break it to ya y/n, but you are very much a kid in my eyes, which is why this thing -" he motions his hand towards me. "this.. crush you have on me - has to end today."
My eyes widen as I stare at him speechless. He seriously did not just assume I have a crush on him.
"Did you jus - You seriously think just because a few stupid girls want to get in your pants, it means everyone does?" I scoff. "Unbelievable. You're my teacher. I don't have a crush on you."
He laughs as if we both know I'm lying - which I am.
"Alright, I'm sorry I called you a kid. Now, you wanna tell me what's wrong?"
"It's just I - I'm gonna miss you." I instantly regret saying it.
He nods and looks at the floor, letting out a frustrated sigh.
"I'm sorry. I - I'm just gonna go." I get up to leave, leaving my heart with him. My stomach twists in a knot when I realize he isn't getting up to stop me.
Why would he?
Once I'm in the hall, I turn to take one last look at him. He's bent over with his hands through his hair as if his best friend just died.
Negan's POV: That fucking girl. In my twelve years of teaching, I've never cared about a student like I do her. I care about all of my students, but goddamn it, she's had me wrapped around her finger for longer than I'm comfortable to admit - And I never will. She fucking sucks at hiding her feelings. I knew from the first day she walked into my class that she wanted to jump on my dick. Hell, every girl does. But other girls bat their fake eyelashes at me and tell me how they feel. Y/n.. she's.. obsessed with me. She thinks I didn't notice her doodling my name in her notebook with little hearts. Or that I don't hear her whispering to her friends about the dreams she has about me. Or how she stares at me during lectures like she's on a different planet. And if that's not enough, the girl hates art. Yet she's chosen it as her elective every single year. She has straight A's in every class, but doesn't even try in mine. And yet.. my dumb ass still passed her with an A. Maybe because I'm obsessed with her too.
Back to Y/n's POV:
I cried on the way home that day.
While everyone else celebrated school ending with a party, I stayed in my room and cried while looking at his photo in the yearbook.
While everyone walked across the stage at graduation, my diploma came in the mail and I stayed home holding Negan's lucky baseball bat that he gave me last year.
My last day of junior year, I stayed after school to help Negan clean out his classroom so he could move into a bigger art room. That was the year he quit coaching. I replay the memory in my head more often than I should..
"Why do you have this bat just sitting in the corner?" "It brings me good luck. I hit a home run every game my senior year with that bat." "Your senior year? This bat is that old?!" "Watch it, kid." He rolls his eyes and throws some folders in a bin. "Hmm." I study the bat. "I could use some luck." "Keep it." I look at him confused. "But... it's your-" "I want you to have it." He cuts me off. "Are - Are you sure?" He sighs frustrated. "Do you not want it?" "Well, I mean, I do but -" "Then stop being stubborn and take it."
Ever since that day, his bat has been leaned up against the wall by my bed as a constant reminder of the man I want but can never have.
After a few weeks of feeling sorry for myself, my best friend tried convincing me to do something for myself since my birthday was coming up.
"Y/n, you should.. get your nails done, go buy some new clothes, do.. something. But you need to get out of that room. It's... depressing."
"I think I want a tattoo."
"Oh, okay, yeah. That's a good idea. What are you wanting to get?" She asks from the other end of the phone.
"I dunno." My eyes drift towards the bat. "Something meaningful."
The next day...
Lucille's
The tattoo shop sign reads. I swing the door open, excited for the first time in a month. The sound of tattoo guns and rock music fills the lobby.
"Hey, welcome to Lucille's. Do you have an idea of what you'd like or do you want to see some of our work?" The woman on the other side of the counter pulls out a binder.
"Oh, no, I think I know what I want already." I smile and pull up the picture on my phone before showing her.
"Okay, we can do that. Shouldn't take too long either. An hour tops. I can actually take you now in room 3." The so-called "rooms" aren't actually rooms, but rather closed off sections with tall walls on each side. From where I'm standing, I can't see the people in the tattoo chair, but I can see the top of the tattoo artists' heads if I stand on my tippy-toes.
She leads me to room 3 and I sit in the chair while she gets out the instruments.
"This your first tattoo?"
"Yeah, kinda nervous."
She smiles. "I'd tell you not to worry, but, sorry babe. It's gonna hurt."
I appreciate her honesty and just smile back at her.
"So, where do we want it?" she holds the printed off picture off of the tattoo I want.
I lean back in the chair, putting my legs up, so I'm laying down. I lift my shirt up right above my belly button and slightly pull my shorts down, revealing my pubic bone. "Right here." I point to the left side of where my panty line would be but lower.
After I confirm the placement, she presses the needle to my skin and I bite my bottom lip at the sudden pain that radiates throughout my hip.
"Breathe, babe. You got this."
After a couple seconds, she turns in her chair to load more ink into the gun.
"Y/n?" I hear from the entrance behind me.
I know that voice without turning to look. My eyes widen and the girl tattooing me looks at him.
"Hey boss, you two know each other?" She looks between the two of us.
I look back at him and see him nod at her. "I'll finish her up, Ruby. Thanks." He takes the tattoo gun from her and sits in her chair when she gets up to leave. The scent of leather and cigarettes fills the small room and I realize how much I missed it.
He pauses when he looks down at my skin and I can't tell if he's staring because of my tattoo of choice or because I'm almost completely exposed. If I didn't just shave, half of my pubic hair would be on display to him.
The way he's looking at my skin wakes the butterflies in my stomach and I have to mentally tell myself not to clench my legs together. He looks up at me through heavy eyelids and for the first time in four years, I'm unable to read him. I can't tell if he's disappointed, mad... or turned on...?
He looks back at the tattoo and shakes his head, sighing.
Okay, it's definitely a look of disappointment.
"You realize I have to finish this now that she's already started it, right?" He studies the lines already permanently marked in my skin. The faint purple lines of where the sticker was placed give away the complete outline of what the tattoo will be. "There's still time to change it though."
"What? What do you mean.. change it? I want this one."
"No." Is all he says and my eyes widen in shock at him.
"You can't tell me what to do Negan. I'm an adult, and I'm getting it."
"Why?" He snaps, frustration dripping from his tone.
He looks into my eyes for the first time since he's been in the room and the butterflies in my stomach have now gone wild.
"Because I... I want a piece of you with me always."
He closes his eyes and drops his head. My eyes start to water but I hold them back the best I can.
"Y/n." He shakes his head but to my surprise, he hesitantly places his left hand on my thigh, his fingers dangerously close to the spot I've imagined him touching a million times. The feel of his rough fingers on my bare skin ignites a flame in me I didn't know existed and all I do is stare at his hand.
"Relax." He rolls his eyes and starts the gun. He leans down closer and begins tattooing me.
I have to bite back the moan threatening to escape my lips. With Ruby.. it hurt. But with Negan, it.. almost feels good.
He glances up at me as if he can hear my thoughts and then goes back to gliding a straight line of ink across my skin.
The next few moments are spent in silence, with nothing but the sounds of the tattoo gun and music playing in the distance.
"Fuck, y/n. I'm gonna need these off so I can get to you better." He gestures at my shorts.
My eyes widen but I nod and slide them off, barely breathing now that I'm laying in front of Negan in just my underwear. The way his jaw ticks when he sees that I'm wearing red lace panties doesn't go unnoticed. His favorite color.
He places his hand back on my leg, this time with his fingers completely against my inner thigh. I slightly part my legs without thinking and he pauses to glance at me before continuing with the tattoo.
If he moved his finger half an inch upwards, he would be touching me.
"I never knew you worked at a tattoo shop." I break the silence, hoping to get my mind off his hand.
He chuckles. "I own it, darlin'. And there's a lot you don't know about me."
Another long pause happens before he speaks first this time.
"Why did you take art, y/n?"
"Uh.. I dunno, because I liked it."
He huffs out a laugh. "You liked it... or me?"
I shrug. "Both."
His face turns serious again and he stops the tattoo gun. "All done."
He backs away and motions for me to stand up and look in the mirror in the corner. I stand in front of it, but don't even notice my tattoo because my eyes catch Negan in the mirror staring at my ass. These panties don't leave much to the imagination and my cheeks redden at how much I'm exposed to him.
He suddenly looks up and makes eye contact with me in the mirror. His eyes are darker than usual and filled with lust.
"Come here." He demands and I obey, walking towards him.
Once I'm standing in front of him, he lifts his hands to grab my hips. My belly button is eye level to him and I look down, watching him intensely. His thumbs dig into my hips and he looks at the tattoo.
"Do you like it?" I ask him.
He ignores me and it makes my heart break a little more. "Lay back down, y/n." He gets up to pull the curtain over the entrance of the room.
I do as he says and he comes back, placing a clear tape bandage over the fresh tattoo.
He looks as if he's deep in thought before suddenly sliding his hands underneath my thighs and pulling me closer to him. He pushes my leg aside and rests my other foot in his lap until my legs are completely spread apart in front of him.
"You want me to touch you, y/n? Is that what you want?"
"Yes.."
"Tell me what you want, baby."
"Your mouth."
He chuckles darkly and kisses the inside of my thigh before sliding his fingers under my panties and ripping them apart.
He shoves them in the back of his jean pocket and wraps his arms around my thighs, holding my stomach down with his hands and leaning his head down closer.
"Look at this pretty pussy, baby. So wet for me you're glistening."
His eyes look up at me right before he licks me and my head falls back with pleasure.
He stops suddenly. "Eyes on me, darlin'. How many times have you imagined me between your legs? You're going to watch me eat this pussy, y/n."
I nod, looking at him and he continues. The sound of other people talking in the distance makes my senses even more heightened.
He licks me again, pressing his tongue into me harder this time. He moans as he stops at my clit and gently sucks it into his mouth. I moan and watch him as he looks like he's eating the best meal he's ever had.
"You taste even better than I imagined, baby."
"You.. imagined it?"
"Baby. You aren't the only one who daydreams in class." He says before dipping his tongue deep inside me.
He switches back and forth between licking me and sucking me until my moans get louder and faster.
"Negan, I'm gonna.."
"I know baby, give it to me." He rubs me with his tongue faster until I'm coming apart. His hand quickly covers my mouth and I cry out into his hand.
"Fuck, doll." He groans and adjusts himself through his jeans. "This pussy is about to make me cum in my pants like I'm a fucking teenager again."
"Negan.." I say out of breath. "I wanna touch you. Please."
He stands and picks up my shorts, but not before I see the huge bulge in his pants. He helps me put my shorts on and I look at him confused when he doesn't say anything.
"Nega-"
"No, y/n."
My eyes water with tears as I stand to finish pulling my shorts up. "I - I don't understand."
"This can't happen, baby. I shouldn't have touched you."
I nod. "So that's it, Negan? You get what you want and that's it.. you're just.. done with me?"
"Are you fucking serious? You think I got what I wanted? I'm standing here with a hard-on that's gonna give me a giant case of blue balls. Any other man would throw you on this table and take you right here."
"Then why don't you?!"
"Because I fucking.. I care about you. You happy now? I fucking CARE ABOUT YOU, y/n. And I'm not going to break your heart."
I wipe a tear that runs down my cheek. "You already did." I grab my purse and rush out of the room, stopping in front of Ruby on the way out and pulling out some cash.
"I'm sorry hun." She says empathetically as if she heard everything that just happened.
I cry harder and lay the cash down before leaving and walking to my car. Before I can open my car door, Negan is grabbing my arm and turning me around to face him.
"Goddamn it, listen to me!"
I don't fight him, I just stare at him, noting the hurt in his eyes. My heart hurts and I suddenly feel guilty for making him feel any ounce of pain.
"Y/n.. look.."
"No." I cut him off. "Negan, I'm sorry. This is my fault.. I put you in this situation because I was selfish.. and delusional. I'm so sorry. I'll leave, and you won't have to hear from me or see me again."
He scoffs. "You think that's what I want? I guess you don't know me the way I thought you did."
Before I can say anything else, he crashes his lips to mine and kisses me so hard and but so softly at the same time. His fingers slip through my hair and his hand rests on the back of my neck as he deepens our kiss.
"You're gonna be the death of me, kid."
I bite his lip hard when he calls me kid and our kiss goes from passionate to animalistic. He presses himself flat against me with my back against my car and I feel his hard cock straining against his jeans. His lips travel to my neck and he bites me hard, right before kissing and sucking the sensitive spot.
That's definitely going to leave a mark.
"You have no clue what you do to me, baby." He says in between kisses. His voice is raspier and deeper than usual. "Do you have any idea how many times I've left work and had to rub one out at the thought of you? Hell, sometimes even at work."
I look around the parking lot. It's nighttime but we're still clearly visible in the lights.
"Look at me, y/n. Forget where we are and just focus on me baby." His hand slips into my shorts and it takes him no time to find my soaked entrance since my panties are currently in his back pocket.
"Negan.." I breathe.
He smiles against my lips. "Baby.. You sure this is what you want? Because once I've had you, you're mine."
I nod and he puts his mouth next to my ear.
"Take your shorts off. Now." He pulls his hand from my shorts and sucks my juices off his fingers.
"But, Negan, we're-"
"I said, now y/n. You want me so bad, you're gonna get me wherever and however I say. Now, take your fucking shorts off before I rip them too."
I hesitantly slide my shorts off while looking around again. There aren't any other cars in the parking lot other than a couple of his employees. All the customers left. There's a main road up ahead but we're far enough away where they wouldn't see us unless they we're staring really hard.
"Good girl. Now take my cock out, baby."
He leans his hands against my car on either side of me, trapping me in. I waste no time reaching for the button on his jeans and unzipping him before pulling out his hard, huge cock. It's bigger than I imagined.. a lot bigger. I don't know how that thing is going to even fit in me. He's so hard that the veins in his cock look like they are about to erupt and his tip is already dripping with precum.
I can't help but run my thumb over the tip to collect some and bring it to my mouth to taste him. His eyes darken with lust at the sight of me sucking his precum off my finger.
"Taste good, doll?"
I nod and he chuckles. "There's a lot more where that came from."
He grips the back of my thigh with his hand and pulls my right leg around his waist.
The feeling of his dick rubbing against my wet pussy is enough to make my knees weak. Literally. I almost collapse at the sensation of him rubbing the head against my opening, teasing me. He presses his body closer to me in attempt to hold me up.
"Fuck, look at this dripping pussy." He looks down between us, admiring the view of his cock teasing my wet slit. "It's about to be dripping with my cum in a few minutes.. You ready for me, baby?"
"Yes, please. I need you."
He enters me completely in one swift motion, not giving me anytime to adjust. My walls are stretched further than they've ever been and it feels like the tip of him is buried up to my stomach.
He doesn't move for a moment, but instead looks into my eyes with his cock all the way inside of me. "There you go, baby. Finally getting what you wanted after all these years and taking my dick like a champ."
"Negan.." I moan. "Please.. just fuck me."
He pulls out of me almost completely before slowly pushing himself back in, agonizingly slow. Our bodies are flush against each other and he kisses me again.
"Fuck, baby." He growls. "You. Feel. So. Fucking GOOD." He says between thrusts as my mouth falls open.
I wrap my arms around his neck to hold myself up and lean against him with my lips pressed against his neck. I take the opportunity to mark him back, grabbing his skin between my teeth and sucking hard. He moans so loud that I glance around to make sure no one heard him, but we're still alone.
His thrusts get harder and faster and the sounds coming from his sexy mouth are enough alone to make me cum.
"Look at me, y/n. I want to see your face when you cum all over my cock."
His hand that was on the car behind me slides between us, instantly finding my clit. He begins rubbing circles on it with his middle finger while thrusting his hips into me faster.
I look into his eyes while my arms are still wrapped around his shoulders tightly, keeping me in place. My fingers run through his dark hair and my breathing goes erratic as I feel myself come undone around him.
"You want me to fill you up, baby? You want daddy's cum?"
I nod quickly as tears run down my cheeks from the most intense orgasm I've ever had.
"FUCK, baby." He groans and slams his mouth against mine. I kiss him back as he rides out his orgasm.
He pulls out of me slowly and softly kisses my lips one more time. I go to put my shorts on and he stops me.
"Not so fast, doll." He gets down on his knees in front of me, pushing my legs apart in front of him. "Push daddy's cum out baby. Let me see it drip out of you."
I do as he says and the feeling of his warm seed running down my legs is almost enough to send me over the edge again.
"Look. At. THAT." He swipes up some of his cum from my leg onto his finger and stands back up but not before gently kissing my new tattoo.
I think I love this man.
He rubs his finger along my lips until my mouth opens for him. I suck his fingers clean and moan at the taste of him.
"Y/n." He pushes my hair behind my ear and looks at me seriously. "I meant it when I said I care about you."
"You care about all your students."
"Yeah, but I don't go sticking my dick in them." He smirks and takes my hand, leading me back into the shop.
The others must have already left when - when.. oh.. shit.
"Negan, do you think they saw us?!"
"Well darlin', I was fucking your brains out right next to the door, so I think it's probably safe to assume so." He grins and my eyes widen with horror.
"Do you not care?"
"What can they do, doll? Fire me?" He laughs and leads me to the back where his office is.
"What are we doing in here?"
"Getting matching tattoos, of course."
I stare at him, trying to register what he just said. "You're.. going to give yourself a tattoo?"
He chuckles and hands me a tattoo gun before taking off his shirt and sitting on the couch in the corner.
"No, doll, you are."
Part 2 here
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cheesus-doodles · 8 months ago
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pls i need more yan south scenarios hes underrated 🙏
explored South's personality around his darling a bit more, hope this is alright anon! feel free to send in another ask if you have something more specific in mind!
Masterlist
South Fics: A Time Long Past | The Dawn that A New Day Brings
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South would definitely be one of the few yanderes who aren’t afraid to expose you to their violent side right from the start - you would have absolutely no question who you were dealing with. This boy has always been rather temperamental and prideful, growing up in a favela and being taught from a young age that violence equaled getting rewards and incentives only helped to stroke his temper and cruelty even further. The only way of life he had ever known is extreme brutality.
And he was still the same cutthroat man when you stumbled across him resting in a side alley, covered in blood. No doubt you were pretty horrified at the sight, not being very used to seeing that much blood on the external of one person, and of course you couldn't have known that it wasn't his blood that was splattered all over him. Which would lead to you starting to panic and offering to call him an ambulance, a normal reaction by any one with the tiniest ounce of sympathy (according to you), but this was all much to South's annoyance. He had already had a long day no matter how much he enjoyed beating others to an inch of their lives, he was tired and he was having a break.
A break that you so rudely interrupted. One very mean look and a loud “huh?!” was enough to have you fleeing in fear from the delinquent, but not before you left him a cold drink for any potential pain.
Yet after South had a chance the turn the situation over in his head after everything died down, the mere fact that you had dared to approach him - a very obvious fierce-looking foreigner with large tattoos (!!) down one side of his face - because you were concerned about him being covered in blood that you didn't even know was his. It was intriguing. And the more he thought about it, the more fascinated he became. Were you not scared of him? No, you definitely were, but then why approach him?
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You became a mystery that this delinquent couldn't stop thinking about, that he absolutely had to solve, and even if finding you was a right hassle because of how little South had to go on, he was determined to do it. You weren't really given an option to say no when you were dragged out of the canteen by your arm, and even the teachers were too frightened to stop South from straight up kidnapping you from your own school.
The first thing you could bring yourself to ask him wasn't where you were going or what he wanted with you; rather all you wanted to know was if he was feeling better from the previous day. And this tattooed delinquent couldn't help but burst into laughter. You were adorable - a certain innocence to the world that he hasn't experienced since he was but a babe. Sure you knew to be fearful of him, and that he was bad business to be around, yet that still didn't stop you from being concerned.
South decided on the spot that you would be his, though in what capacity he hasn't quite settled on. It would just be nice to have someone who would fawn over him, he supposes, someone who he didn't really have to worry about trying to overpower him.‎
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Even with all his upbringing and bloodthirsty personality, South still does remember the softness and love that he experienced briefly during his childhood from his mother, and that would be enough motivation for him to at least try and win you over without jumping straight to his tried and tested method. Rationalises this as not him going soft, but more so because you clearly were a very fragile person and wasn't built to take blows like he was. Tries his best to show you his good side, bringing you small gifts (mostly stolen from the other delinquents that he beat), taking you on walks and dates in the middle of the school day, attempting to get you to warm up to him.
Though this is not quite entirely out of a good heart, of course. This boy loves more than anything to eat home-cooked meals, and it doesn't quite matter if you can or want to cook - you will be learning how to and you will be cooking for him. Would rather you do it because you wanted to for him (because a hearty meal would come out of willingness and not force, South believes).
South doesn't bother hiding his gang affiliations, his time in juvie or really anything from you; in fact, he is quite proud of his past, doesn't see anything wrong. Drags you to fights so that you can watch him met out beatings right and left, and you were always there at meetings, sitting not far from South but usually doing your own thing, trying to ignore what is being discussed. Fortunately for his poor victims, you usually are able to stop before he kills anyone with his fists, but it's never a pretty sight.
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The upside is that if you comply and do find a friend in South, you always have someone watching your back. Never having to worry about your safety with South's shadow over you, you can be sure that this boy will always be there when you need him to be. The blond-haired boy is grateful for your food, and he'll be sure to repay that back in kindness towards you.
The downside: he has no qualms in lashing out at you the moment you step out of line. South does try his best to keep it verbal rather than physical; it's like him giving you a chance to correct yourself before he does, keeping in mind that you were a mere civilian. But that hasn't stopped him from following through if you don't and his short temper boils over. Nothing as extreme as a punch or a beatdown like what delinquents get from him, but even a twist of your arm or a slap is enough to shake you to your bones and cause severe pain.
You aren't allowed to run away from him even if you're shaking and crying, forced to stand there next to him tendering to your bruised arm or swelling cheek - he wants to see it all. The fear, the denial, the acceptance that there was no where to run to and that you belonged to him, and finally the submission that settles into your eyes. Of course he'll prefer if you didn't freeze in fear every time you noticed him in the corner of your eyes, but he rather not have to risk trying to find someone as amusing and adorable as you all over again.
You should have known better than to even approach him to begin with, after all.
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codgod · 1 year ago
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y’know generally i try to limit colour palettes to as few colours as possible to make things more cohesive but despite my best efforts only jay ended up being able to stick to that </3
ANYWAYS here’s the as-of-right-now fully updated designs for these dickheads. these will no doubt undergo even more tweaking as i draw them more but this is a start i guess. also pls open the pictures to look at them properly i worked so hard LOL
some random notes under the cut yaaaay
chip —
he jingles when he walks. somehow he’s still stealthy. i do not know how
kept the platinum ring that bonded him to gillion in the block! because hey he doesn’t really have a reason to take it off (and it’s a nice reminder of how much gill cares about him, and how far their friendship has come since that ice arena)
his tattoos shift and flicker like actual flames, and sometimes (harmless, purely aesthetic) sparks fly off them when he’s excited
i just think smoke coming out of his mouth when he’s angry would be cool :]
chipped teeth from biting rocks and coins all the time :/
he has scars from the red lightning, they’re just mostly contained to his back and shoulders. they’re a similar red to his coat even once they’ve healed
gillion —
the tail sleeve thing is so he can rest it on the ground without damaging his scales, he doesn’t usually wear it when he’s just on the ship because the wood is soft enough that it’s usually fine + it can hinder swimming a bit. it’s mostly meant for places where there’s cobblestone or gravel streets and such. i think his armour would probably have a version that looks similar but covers the whole tail minus the fins, maybe with some armour plating of its own. i didn’t draw it because there wasn’t any room lol
his scars from the lightning are pink mostly because red stood out too much tbh. they softly glow in the dark the same as his coral and the pink parts of his fins
also kept his ring! his hands aren’t really made for jewellery, though, because the webbing means it won’t sit very secure on his finger. so he keeps it on the same chain as the necklace he got from aslana to keep it safe
tried to make him look a bit bulkier and more his age than in my original design? i feel like i was leaning too much into the naivety and. shortness. originally lol. he also has thicker eyebrows now and i’m still trying to decide how i feel about them but i think? i like it? i don’t tend to give many character thin eyebrows so it could’ve been a unique thing for him but alas
i think i made the sword too small but like ignore that
also forgor to include pretzel </3 that’s okay though she can get her own design sheet later. she’s special like that
jay —
i believe in tall jay supremacy
blue magic! i was considering gold but that’d look a bit more like a canary than i wanted for her wings so. blue jay :]
her hair is supposed to look kinda like fire to mimic her dad ! kinda showing that even if she runs from her family and the navy they’ll always be a part of her. and also i just like drawing messy hair
i gave her sturdier gloves just because i feel like it fits her better. also changed up the shirt to more of a button up solely because i don’t like tank tops very much LOL
i did WANT to make her outfit a bit flashier to match the boys better but i couldn’t quite figure out where to Put the flash. maybe that’ll come later, the way the story’s going i might get to design some cool prosthetics for her or something
overall —
because there’s just so many fucking colours i triiied to add at least one or two colours from each of them into the others designs. jay has her necklace with each of their main colours on it, her wings are the same blue as gillions eyes, her jacket and right eye are the same dark blue as destiny’s blade, her hair is the same orange as the lighter part of chips tattoos. chip has a dark green sash under all the belts, the same as the hilt of destiny’s blade. they all use the same shades of black, gold, and brown
the only real exception is gillion doesn’t have anything from the other two because he has Such a specific colour palette and he already had so much going on as-is orz jay was obviously the easiest to do this with because she has both warm and cool colours in her palette by default lol (and i did her design last, so that helps)
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munsonfamilyband · 2 years ago
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I’ve had a Different Meeting AU stuck in my head for ages and I’ve decided to share it
After Starcourt Steve can’t sleep. The nightmares and panic keeps him from getting sleep; if he’s lucky he gets an hour. After a week he’s falling apart and he suddenly remembers a piece of his past - he remembers smoking weed with Tommy H and sleeping like a baby. So he starts digging, ends up having to talk to people he never wanted to speak to again, but he finds out who to call.
Eddie Munson. The name is familiar, but the number isn’t. Steve calls Eddie and sets up a meeting the next day to buy some weed. When he drives to the meeting spot he walks through how he’s going to apologize for who he was. Steve is pretty sure he never did anything to Eddie but he wants to be safe rather than sorry. He gets out of his car and ambles through the woods to meet Eddie at a picnic table. Eddie Munson is sitting on the table, legs kicked out in front of him and leaning back on his elbows. Steve quickly averts his eyes from the tattoo he can see on Eddie’s stomach where his shirt has ridden up. He’s aware that he finds men attractive, has been since Jonathan beat him up in ‘83, but now is not the time. Eddie looks up when Steve steps into the clearing and smirks.
“You’re late, I was starting to think you were going to stand me up.”
“Uh, sorry, I got a little side tracked. But um, before we do this I wanted to say sorry…I guess? I’m not sure if I ever did anything to you in school, I’m pretty sure I didn’t but I wanted to apologize for being a dick anyway.” Eddie just blinks at him, grin gone, as he sits up fully while still sitting on the table.
“You’re….. sorry?”
“Yeah, man. I’m trying to be a better person, throw the whole ‘King Steve’ shit out, and I figured that apologizing to the guy I’m hoping will sell me weed is a good place to start, y’know?” Steve knows that there’s a flush crawling up his neck from the embarrassment, can feel it heating up his ears, but he can’t focus on that with Eddie Munson staring at him with his big eyes and wild, curly hair- nope, stopping that right now.
“Oh. Well, you didn’t do anything, I mean, your buddy, Tommy H, used to fuck with me until he started buying my shit. The guy’s almost feral but he isn’t stupid enough to piss off his dealer. So, I guess we’re good then?” Steve breathes out a sigh of relief, moving closer to the table to sit while Eddie climbs down to sit on the opposite side. “So, how do you want to do this?”
Steve clears his throat, glancing around a bit. Eddie probably assumes it’s from nerves around the deal, which is fine with Steve. He doesn’t need to know that Steve is still looking over his shoulder for Russians and flesh monsters. “Uh, look, man. I know you’re wondering about my face, and it has to do with why I’m looking to buy. I was at the mall when it…burned down.” Steve hears Eddie mumble something like ‘holy shit’ under his breath. “I got knocked over during the panic and got trampled,” Steve easily lies. The cover story had been repeated to him until he knew it just as well as the real events. “Ever since, I’ve been having a hard time sleeping and I know weed can help so I was looking to get some to help.” He can feel Eddie’s eyes on him, studying his face in a way that reminds him eerily of Nancy.
“I can totally get why you would need weed after that. But, no offense or anything, you seem way more nervous about this than normal.” Steve can’t help but sigh, of course the drug dealer can read him like a book.
“Yeah, I uh, I got drugged when I was at a club a little while ago. I guess I’m nervous about being high again, even though I need to sleep.” Steve meets Eddie’s eyes and watches a complicated series of emotions flash across the other man’s face before seeming to decide on something.
“Okay, I normally wouldn’t do this, but you really do seem to be trying to be better, and you’ve clearly been through a lot lately, so I’m going to make an offer and you can decline if you want, but I figured I would try.” Eddie takes a deep breath, Steve narrowly avoiding watching his cheat expand with it. “Because you’re nervous about this, I can waive the fee this time and bring the pot to smoke with you. So that you don’t have a bad trip, or whatever.” Steve freezes, thrown aback by the offer. After a moment he is able to voice a response.
“You would do that for me?”
“I mean, just because I deal drugs doesn’t mean I have no morals. It feels weird to sell you shit and then let you go off on your own knowing you had a traumatic experience.”
Steve, despite being stunned, manages a smile. “That- thank you, Eddie. That is- I appreciate it a lot.”
The quickly make a plan to meet up the next day at Steve’s house, and Steve offers to get food as payment.
This pattern continues for a month before Eddie’s friends convince him to try a move on Steve - who has been maybe flirting since they met - and the night ends with them making out on Eddie’s couch. They date happily for 6 months, laughing as they pretend to not know each other in front of the kids, until the first day of Spring Break Steve sees a trailer he spends more time at than his own house on the news. As soon of Dustin and Max show up, Steve is grabbing his keys and running to his car, knowing exactly where Eddie is hiding.
Steve never wanted his boyfriend to get involved with this part of his life, but there is no way he will leave him alone now that he is.
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