#and my brain is like 'dude you have to kind of just stand at your computer rn bc all the high schoolers are looking at their comps doing a-

[foxsicle]

man forgetting to take my concerta yesterday and then having it this morning w/ a giant cup of coffee was a decision

[hoshifighting]

rival fashion designer!minghao

— synopsis: where minghao flexes his fashion awards whenever your brand competes against him during fashion week. — WC: 3k — WARNINGS: explicit language, smut, reader uses a transparent clothing (just like rihanna in oscar x swarovski), oral (f. receiving) ENORMOUS DICK!MINGHAO, slight face slap, mentions of choking on a cock, penetrative sex—or trying to.

look, you weren’t trying to start beef with minghao. you don’t even know why the dude hates you so much. okay, maybe you said one thing about his fall line looking like it got snatched off the clearance rack at an IKEA. but that was a year ago. and also? you were drunk and kinda bitter ‘cause your show got bumped for his stupid avant-garde puff-sleeve renaissance clowncore shit.

but now, every fashion week is like a personal vendetta for him to humble you. you’ll be vibin’, sipping your overpriced latte in the designer lounge, and this man will just stroll in, decked out in some vintage runway piece that costs more than your annual budget, flashing that “i won best emerging designer again” smirk like it’s a fucking weapon. and then he’ll throw some casual shit like:

“oh, y/n, is that your collection over there? i thought they were setting up for the kid’s line showcase.”

[...]

so this year, you swore you wouldn’t let him get in your head. you’d play it cool, professional, unbothered. except you walk into your studio late one night, the day before your big runway debut, and this man is just there. sitting on your worktable. wearing a pearl-studded harness and leather pants so tight it should be a crime.

you freeze, halfway through the door, holding the iced coffee you begged your intern to grab five minutes before starbucks closed. “what the fuck are you doing here?”

minghao barely glances up from his phone. “your assistant let me in.”

traitor.

“why?” you slam the coffee on the counter, praying your voice doesn’t shake. the audacity of him just existing in your space is enough to make your blood boil.

he stands, slow as hell, like he’s got all the time in the world. he’s tall—annoyingly tall—so when he steps close, you’re immediately at a disadvantage. but you refuse to back down.

“just wanted to check out the competition,” he says, eyes flicking lazily over the chaos of fabric swatches and half-finished sketches strewn across the room. “cute line. very... simple.”

“fuck you, hao,” you snap, crossing your arms. “it’s called ‘minimalism.’ not that you’d know anything about taste.”

he laughs, soft and low, the kind of sound that creeps under your skin and lingers there. “oh, i have plenty of taste. i just don’t need to keep it basic to get attention.”

and here’s the thing: you hate how much he gets to you. he’s a smug asshole with an overinflated ego, but he’s also stupidly talented, and you can’t ignore the fact that his lines always sell out in under a day. or how his press coverage makes yours look like a local craft fair feature.

but what really gets you is how hot he looks right now, with his ridiculous cheekbones and the glint of that tiny silver chain peeking out from under his collar. it’s disgusting. you hate it.

you’re about to throw a cutting remark his way, something about how he’s overcompensating with all that jewelry, but he beats you to it.

“you know,” he murmurs, stepping even closer, “you’d look good in my designs.”

your brain short-circuits. “excuse me?”

“if you ever want to elevate your style...” he trails off, dragging his gaze down the length of your body like it’s a runway.

“you are so full of shit,” you hiss, but there’s no heat behind it, because your stupid traitorous brain is suddenly imagining what it’d feel like to have his hands on you.

he smirks, all teeth and danger, leaning in so close you can smell his expensive cologne. “maybe. but you’re thinking about it now, aren’t you?”

you don’t answer.

[...]

the next morning, you’re running on zero sleep, fueled by pure spite and caffeine, but your runway show? flawless. models everywhere, hair spray choking the air, seamstresses practically sewing on skin ‘cause the deadlines were that tight. and you were doing a thousand fucking things at once.

fixing a hemline here, shouting at a makeup artist there—“no, not clean girl aesthetic, we’re going full grunge today, wake up!”—all while struggling to get yourself into the swarovskied transparent gown you planned to wear for the night.

no bra, because tits were the least controversial thing in fashion. and the way the crystals draped over your skin looking likew pure art. nipples out and proud, paired with modern curls swirled to perfection and makeup that screamed chaos-but-make-it-glam.

by the time your collection hit the runway, your nerves were shredded. but watching the models strut, each piece shining under the lights... fucking worth it.

and then, the finale: your dress sweeping dramatically across the stage as you closed the parade. you bowed to the crowd, letting the cameras and whispers soak in every inch of you, and as you turned to leave, you felt it.

minghao’s sharp eyes.

you caught his eyes just as they traveled the length of you��from the swirl of your hair, to the unapologetic sharpness of your nipples under the crystals, to the shimmer of your dress, down to the towering heels on your feet.

you just smirked to yourself as you headed backstage, knowing full well your collection didn’t just crawl under his skin this time. it slithered under his flesh, wrapped tight around his ribs, and squeezed.

[...]

minghao’s models stormed the runway like it was their goddamn birthright. and of course, you watched. no designer worth their silk ignored the competition, and minghao wasn’t just competition, he was a walking masterclass in making everyone feel like second place.

he closed his show with his usual flare, stepping out like he already knew the applause was his. fast-forward two designers later, and the nominations for the fashion academy awards started rolling in. you didn’t have to look to know minghao had already claimed half the early awards.

you watched him backstage through narrowed eyes as he balanced four trophies—two tucked in his arms, two in his hands—posing for a picture with that smug-ass smile. you knew that pic was already blowing up on his Instagram. your jaw clenched, nails digging into your palm as the last nominations were announced.

and then, plot twist of the year:

your name came up five times.

designer of the year: you.

new vision in fashion: you.

collection of the year: your brand.

runway innovation: your brand.

showstopper of the year: your brand.

walking out with those five heavy-ass awards in your arms? victory tasted better than champagne. your models and team practically swarmed you, hyping you up ‘cause they knew how much blood, sweat, and tears went into this collection.

but what you really wanted... minghao. definitely minghao. minghao, in your line of sight. because after all the times he flaunted his wins like a smug bastard, you wanted him to feel this.

and lucky for you, fate delivered.

you spotted him in the back hallway, leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. clearly, he hadn’t heard the last nominees. his head snapped up when your heels echoed through the space.

“oh, hey, hao,” you called out, voice sweet as honey but sharp as glass. you stopped just short of him, shifting the five trophies in your arms so they pressed against your chest. the weight of them pushed your tits up just enough to catch his eyes.

“looks like I’ve got... a plus one on you this year.” you smirked, shaking the awards a little for good measure, the motion making the crystals on your dress catch the dim hallway light.

his eyes flicked down—brief, subtle, but not subtle enough—and then back up, his expression neutral, but you could feel the shift in his ego.

“congrats,” he said, the word clipped like it physically hurt him.

“thanks, babe,” you purred, turning on your heel with a sway of your hips. “see you next season. maybe.”

and with that, you left, letting the click of your heels carry the weight of your victory.

[...]

days later, you were lounging in minghao’s big leather chair, legs crossed up on his table, showing the expensive ass high heels you always wore. his assistant had let you in with barely a question, and you weren’t one to waste an opportunity.

when he finally walked in, his eyes narrowed immediately. “what the hell are you doing here?”

“relax,” you drawled, leaning back like his office was a spa. “your assistant said I could wait. guess they like me more than you.”

he folded his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “didn’t think you’d show your face here after the other night. thought you’d be busy polishing all those trophies.”

you grinned, slow and smug. “oh, i polished them. just thought i’d stop by to see how you’re doing. must be hard, you know—losing.”

his jaw tightened, but he didn’t rise to the bait. instead, he stepped closer, looming over you. “you done?”

“not even close,” you said, standing up to match his energy. you stopped just shy of his chest, tipping your chin up. “but don’t worry, hao. i’ll let you borrow a trophy sometime if you really need the validation.” you patted his shoulder.

he scoffed, his lips curling into something between a smirk and a sneer. “you know, i like your attitude.”

you raised an eyebrow. “yeah? you must, considering how much you stalk me every season.”

“maybe that’s why we should work together.”

you laughed, loud and sharp, tossing your head back. “oh, that’s rich. you? work with me? what, so you can take credit for my ideas and call it a ‘collaboration’?”

he tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. “i’m serious. we’d be unstoppable.”

for a second, you almost believed him. “unstoppable, huh? what makes you think i’d even want to work with you?”

“because you like the challenge... admit it. you love it when i push you.”

“you’re intolerable.”

“and yet,” he murmured, stepping so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, “you haven’t left yet.”

your laugh came out breathy this time, your pulse quickening as his hand grazed the curve of your hip. “you think I’m staying here for you? please. your assistant let me in, remember?”

“sure,” he said. his thumb traced slow circles against your side, almost lazy. “but you’re still here.”

you were about to snap back with something cutting, something to wipe that stupid smirk off his face, but then he tilted your chin up with two fingers, his gaze locked on yours like a predator sizing up prey.

“stop thinking,” he whispered, leaning in just enough for your lips to almost touch. “you might actually enjoy yourself.”

his lips were soft and plump, moving against yours so fucking good that felt unfair. his hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped.

your hands found his chest, the fabric of his shirt warm under your fingertips as you pushed him slightly, breaking the kiss with a smirk. “you’re bold, i’ll give you that.”

“you’re still thinking,” he teased, catching your bottom lip between his teeth before pulling back.

your hands slid up to his shoulders, gripping just enough to feel the flex of his muscles. you threatened to sit on his table.

his eyes widened slighty, his hands immediately grabbing your ass to lift you up, making you yelp. “don’t!”

“what? scared i’ll break it?” you teased, wrapping your legs around his waist.

he places the needles that were spread lazily on the table, inside of a box. he turned, his grip firm as he carried you a few steps and sat you on a nearby armchair.

“there were needles on that table, genius,” he scolded, his tone sulky but his fingers tracing slow lines along your thighs. “you’d be bleeding before I even got started.”

“aww,” you cooed, dragging your nails down his neck. “you worried about me, hao?”

“no,” he muttered, kneeling, dipping his head to kiss along your jawline, his teeth grazing just enough to make you arch towards him. “just don’t want to ruin my night with a trip to the hospital.”

your laugh turned into a soft moan as his lips found the spot just below your ear. “guess you’re not as heartless as you act.”

he pulled back slightly, his smirk sharper than ever. “you talk too much.”

you pulled him in for another kiss, your tongues colliding this time. when you tried to take control, tilting your head for a deeper angle, he pulled back just enough to make you chase him.

minghao’s hands were firm on your thighs, his thumbs brushing against your skin like he wasn’t about to wreck you in the middle of his office. his eyes dragged down, lingering on the way your skirt was pushed up, the space between your legs bare and unapologetic.

he clicked his tongue, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “no panties, huh?” he said. “came here like this?”

“what can I say?” you shot back, shifting slightly so his hands pressed harder against your skin. “i had a feeling you’d end up on your knees.”

his smirk deepened, his fingers tightening slightly as he leaned in, close enough for you to feel his breath. he pressed your legs further onto the armrests, spreading you wider, his hands splayed like he wanted to leave imprints.

his tongue flicked out, close enough to make you tense—but he didn’t touch you. instead, he pulled back, his eyes locking with yours as a smirk tugged at his lips.

he leaned in again, his tongue brushing so close you could feel the warmth from his breath, but once again, he pulled back just as you tilted your hips forward.

“hao..” you warned.

“what?” he teased, his lips hovering over your folds.

your hands gripped the armrests as you glared down at him. “if you don’t stop playing, i swear—”

he cut you off with a broad, strong lick, dragging his tongue from your entrance, through your folds, and up to your clit in one unbroken suck. your head fell back as a gasp tore from your lips.

“that shut you up,” he muttered, his voice muffled as he dipped lower, his tongue swirling around your entrance before moving back up. “needy much?”

“shut up and do it again,” you shot back, your voice sharper than the way your thighs trembled under his grip.

and he did the same. your clit throbbing at the rough skin of his tongue, making you melt on his armchair, he smiled at the sight, he knew how a good head felt after months dealing with needles and sparkly cloths.

his lips latched onto your folds, sucking them into his mouth before he pulls back just slightly, his tongue flicking against your clit in quick, teasing strokes. you let out a pornographic moan, before your clap a hand on your mouth, remembering the team outside the office. he chuckled darkly, his hands tightening on your thighs to hold you still. his lips wrapping around your clit again. this time, he sucked it fully into his mouth, his tongue flicking against it as his eyes flicked up to yours.

“you’re so good at this, hmm—fuuuck!” you said, your nails drowning in the leather of the armchair. “you must’ve practiced on a lot of other girls, huh?”

his eyes narrowed slightly, and his teeth grazed your clit just enough to make you wwhimper. “jealous?” he asked, his voice smug, though he didn’t stop the relentless motion of his tongue.

“please,” you shot back, though the way your breath hitched betrayed you as he did a zig-zag on your bud with the tip of his otngue. “you’re better when you’re silent.”

he smirked against you, his lips curving as he pulled back just enough to speak. “then shut me up.”

your fingers tangled in minghao’s hair, tugging him closer, harder, until his face was buried against your pussy. his groan vibrated through you, desperate, and his hands clamped down on your thighs to steady himself as you rolled your hips against his mouth.

“that’s it... mhmm, just like that...”

he obeyed, his head bobbing as his tongue slid against you in broad, wet strokes, his lips sealing around your clit every few seconds to suck, deep and rhythmic. the wet, obscene sounds filled the room, and your nails scraped lightly against his scalp as you held him there, guiding him exactly how you wanted.

the heat in your core coiled tighter, and you barely had time to register your orgasm hit.

your back arched, your mouth falling open as moans spilled out shamelessly. your hips rolled against his face as you came, and minghao didn’t stop—not for a second. he worked you through it, sucking and licking as though he felt your climax before you did.

he only pulled back when you began to squirm, your breath coming in sharp gasps as overstimulation took hold. his lips and chin were slick as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes glinting as he looked up at you.

“had fun?” he asked, sarcastically.

you gave a breathless laugh, your chest heaving as you leaned back in the chair. “you talk too much for someone who just spent five minutes swallowing my pussy.”

his smirk widened, and he stood, his hands braced on the armrests as he leaned down, his face inches from yours. “and you talk too much for someone who’s about to beg me to fuck her.”

your gaze flicked to his lips, and then lower—to the bulge straining against his pants. “big words,” you said. “let’s see if you can back them up.”

his hands slid to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he walked you back toward the desk—no needles this time. you didn't even had time to register what was happening before your skirt was pushed higher, his fingers brushing over your thighs as he settled you on the edge.

his hand worked his belt, the clink of the buckle making you clench around nothing.

“this isn’t gonna be quick,” he said as he freed himself, the sheer size of him making your breath catch. it was big both in length and girth.

you swallowed hard.

“relax... mhmm”

he teased your entrance with the tip, sliding it slowly against you, and the stretch was immediate, even as he slightly pressed in. your breath hitched, your hands gripping the edge of the desk as he pushed forward, achingly slow, giving you time to adjust.

“ngh—fuck!” you gasped, your voice breaking as he filled you inch by hard inch.

“breathe,” he murmured, his tone gentle despite the tension in his body. mouth glued on yours to make sure he feels your puffs of air.

“trying”

he paused, his hands tightening on your hips as he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. “you’re okay,” he whispered. “just breathe for me.”

you hiccuped, your chest rising and falling in shallow gasps as your body struggled to adjust.

“there you go,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your jaw as he waited “good girl. just like that.”

you exhaled slowly, your body relaxing slightly helping him to slid in further, the fullness stealing the air from your lungs.

your hands gripped his arms, your nails digging into his skin as he finally bottomed out, his body pressed flush against yours.

“fuck,” he muttered, his voice tight as he buried his face in your neck. “you’re—so fucking tight.”

you swallowed hard, your head tilting back as you tried to catch your breath. “you’re—so fucking big.”

he pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours as a smirk tugged at his lips. “think you can take it?”

your breath hitched, and you nodded, your hands sliding to his back as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “try me.”

minghao hips pulls back just an inch before thrusting forward experimentally. the sound that left your lips was somewhere between a moan and a strangled gasp, your nails biting into his shoulders as your body clenched around him.

he paused, a smug smile tugging at his lips as he tilted his head to the side, his eyes flicking over your face. “yeah, knew that’d happen.”

“don’t—” your breath hitched as he moved just slightly, a tiny shift that made you clutch at him even harder. “don’t fucking smile like that.”

his laugh was quiet, he leaned down, his forehead brushing against yours. “why not? you’re almost cummin already.”

“i’m not—” the words caught in your throat as he slid just a little deeper, your body trying desperately to adjust to his size.

“not what?” he asked, his tone playful as he stilled again, waiting for you to catch your breath.

“not—cumming” you managed, though your voice shook with the effort of speaking.

“hmm.” his thumb grazed your clit, circling it trying to soothe your nerves. “then why are you holding on to me likethat?”

you glared at him, though the effect was probably ruined by the way your mouth fell open with a gasp as his thumb pressed down just slightly harder.

your body tensed as he began to move again, sliding in slowly, each inch dragging against you in a way that made your head fall back. the wet squelch of your body adjusting to his girth filled the room, obscenelly.

“shit,” he muttered, his voice tight as he wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you steady. “you’re so—tight. feels like you’re trying to squeeze me out.”

“maybe i am.”

he laughed softly “you’re all talk,” he murmured, his thumb still circling your clit. “that pussy is begging for me.”

“hao,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his arms as your legs tightened around his waist. “i—fuck, i can’t—”

“you can,” he said softly, his lips moving against your neck. “breathe for me, baby. you’ve got this.”

you exhaled shakily, your chest rising and falling against his as you tried to relax, tried to let the tension in your body melt away. his thumb pressed a little harder against your clit, insistent, coaxing pleasure to override the discomfort.

“that’s it,” he murmured, his voice soft as his arm tightened around your waist. “just like that. let me in.”

your head fell back, your eyes fluttering shut as he finally slid deeper, his hips pressing flush against yours. the sensation stole the breath from your lungs, and your fingers dug into his shoulders, desperate for something to anchor you.

“you okay?”

you nodded weakly, your hands sliding up to grip his hair as you whispered, “move.”

he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “not yet.”

your eyes snapped open, frustration bubbling in your chest as you glared at him. “hao—”

“relax,” he murmured, his thumb circling your clit again, making you cry out slyly. “i’m not gonna ruin you all at once. gotta make sure you can take it.”

“i can,”

“we’ll see,” he said, his tone smug as he finally, finally pulled back, his cock dragging against you.

“hao, just—fuck me already.”

his laugh was quiet. “you’re not ready for that yet, look—” he roll his hips, making you hiccup again. “but don’t worry—I’ll get you there.”

“how about you?” you ask, feeling your orgasm building up as he circled the thumb faster, your hips rolling slightly, weak, like the cock inside you was to heavy to make you roll them freely.

“i can get off just by looking at this pretty face...” he slaps your cheek weakly, twice, making you squeeze around him. “listen to what i'm telling you… you're still going to model for my brand.” he chuckles.

“i’d rather choke to death than work with your brand.”

“why don’t you choke on something else, then?”

[saturnscafe]

͙˚ ༘✶Big Bad Wolf | Werewolf Boyfriend? (Female Reader)

Smut Below

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this. It’s a little longer than I anticipated however I just adore it. I hope you all will enjoy it as well!

-🪐

He was known as the as the asshole of the college. Always picking fights and going after anyone who even dared breathe in his direction. He stood tall, muscular with scars that decorated his face and arms. His wolf ears standing at attention but not listening to anything that was around him. Everyone avoided him like the plague even you. However today had other plans.

You were sprinting down the hall, trying to get away from some asshole who couldn’t take no for an answer. When you ran face first into his broad chest. He was ready to say something to you until he saw the other man that trailed behind you. He grabbed you by the waist moving you to behind him before locking eyes with the other guy.

“Get lost” he said in annoyance. The other guys eyes looked over at you then back at him. Was he really willing to pick this fight?

“Dude Kyzer relax, just- just let me get my girl and we can forget any of this happened” the man said trying to grab for you.

Before you knew it he had the guys arm twisting it. “I said.” He growled. “Get lost”. His grip on his arm tightened nails digging in before pushing him away. The other man admitted defeat walking back with his tail between his legs.

Kyzer looked at you glaring down at your shaken body. “You good?” He asks surprising you even more. You don’t respond though, mind still in flight mode. He placed his hand under your chin lifting it up to look at him “hello? Are you good?” He said sternly.

You quickly nod snapping back to reality “yeah- yeah I’m good, sorry. Uhm- thank you.” You rambled out. You swear you saw a smile creep on his face but it was quickly gone.

He cleared his throat “if he tries anything again uhm?” He said hinting at you to tell him your name.

“Oh, uhm y/n” you said.

“If he tries anything again y/n, you come to me yeah? I’ll put his ass in the ground” he said with a twisted grin before walking off.

What was that? Was he actually nice? Or did you just catch him on a good day? No matter you went about your day. Going home and studying before getting the idea to bake him something to say thank you. Maybe he wasn’t so bad? Maybe this could be a way to get him to open up? But why did you want that? You scratched your brain, shit- did you like him? No, no that’s crazy. You still baked him something treats to take to him, hopefully he liked cookies.

The next day, you found him in his usual spot. Sitting at the tree while he ate his lunch. He looked peaceful as he ate, listing to some music and flipping through a book. You were so nervous to approach him but you did. Tapping him on the shoulder he turned his head quick. Ready to scream at whoever dared to disturb his peace. Until he noticed it was you, he tilted his head a bit like a puppy.

“Sorry for bothering you- I- uhm- made you these. As a thank you” you said sheepishly handing him the small container of cookies. He blinked, processing what you just said. No one’s ever really shown him much kindness. Even for doing something good like he had for you. So to say he was taken aback was an understatement.

“You made these for me?” He asked repeating your words.

You nod smiling at him shyly. “Yeah, if it wasn’t for you I- I don’t know what would have happened” you admit.

He felt his cold heart warm, pounding so loud he thought you could hear it. He looked over your face trying to read you. Fuck were you this cute yesterday? “Thank you” he said taking the container. He opened it right away the smell of the cookies making him sigh happily. “They smell delicious” he said smiling down at them.

He’s smiling? He’s smiling! Your heart skipped a beat seeing his pretty smile. Those sharp pearly whites of his made your body warm. Your face must have been red cause he couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re cute” he said. It slipping past his lips before he could even stop himself. The compliment only making your face turn more red.

“I- uhm- thank you” you said feeling like you could puke at any second from the butterflies. “You’re not so bad yourself” you said with a smile.

His face started turning red, before he quickly turned away. “You uhm- you like movies?” He asked feeling stupid at his question. When you nodded his words came out fast “you wanna watch a movie later?” Fuck why’d he say that, his place was a wreck.

“Sure!” You said smiling like a dummy. “I just got a new system, we could watch it at my place?” You said.

“Cool, cool. What’s your number? So uhm- I can get your address” he said trying to play it cool. After exchanging numbers your alarm for your next class goes off making you jump. “I’m guessing no horror movies if you jump that bad from a phone” he teased.

You rolled your eyes “I’m gonna be late, I’ll text you my address. 7 sound alright?” You ask.

“Perfect” he said.

And you were off, sprinting to your next class.

His mind twirled with the thought of you. Fuck what did he get himself into? He doesn’t talk to many people nor has he ever had an actual relationship let alone a date. Sure he’s had his share of hook ups but that’s about as deep as it went. What the hell was he gonna do?

When the time came he stood outside your door taking a deep breath before knocking. When you answered his heart raced, here you were in sweats and a hoodie. How the hell did you look so good? When he walked in the smell of you overflowed him almost making him dizzy. You guided him into the living room where you had a bunch of blankets on your pool out. You were gonna be on a pull out bed. A bed. The two of you. His cock twitched in his pants at the mere thought of it.

“I’m sorry my place is a bit of a mess, but I got the couch all cozy. Oh and I have a bunch of snacks if you’re hungry” you said with a shy smile. He nodded following you to the pull out, when he sat down the scent of you was even stronger. Probably from all the covers you gathered from your bed. “Wanna watch a horror movie?” You asked flickering through the movies on the tv.

“Sounds goo- wait” he said looking at the screen. “You like that show?” He asked seeing a show you were watching earlier. It being one of your favorites.

“Uh yeah! It’s like one of my favorites I’m rewatching it since the new seasons gonna be coming out” you said smiling.

“No way! It’s one of my favorites, I’m super excited for the new season! I even have a poster of it in my room!” He rambled. It was cute seeing him all excited over something he liked. Seeing his cute smile light up.

“Maybe when the new season comes out we can have a watch party? I’ll make us some dinner and we can binge watch it” you said.

“Sounds perfect” he said back. It felt nice being able to talk to someone. To have something in common with you too.

You both decided on a movie, getting all covered up as it started. He was nervous to move closer to you but you were feeling a bit bold so you Scooted closer. Your shoulder touching now bodies close to one another. The scent of you driving him crazy more so now that he could feel your warmth. He moved his arm, to finally wrap around you “uhm- is this ok?” He said softly.

You nodded “aren’t horror movies the best ones to cuddle up too?” You said laying your head on him.

“Is that why you picked it” he said back in a teasing tone.

“Maybe”

“In that case why don’t we lay down in cuddle hmm? I mean we got this whole bed in all” he said with a smirk.

He was surprised that you instantly moved letting him lay behind you so you could both could watch the movie properly. He took his spot behind you wrapping his arms around you, pulling your body as close as he possibly could. His hand rested on your waist holding you tightly. His mind swirled with your scent god how was this happening to him?

A few minutes passed as you focused on the movie. Being painfully aware of the man behind you as he pressed himself against you. You could feel his girth cock pressing against your ass and you couldn’t help yourself. Grinding back against him, he let out a groan barely audible if it weren’t for him being so close. The sound of him turning you on way more than you thought it would. He didn’t stop you though, letting you rut yourself against him. Finally getting some friction.

His hand that was resting on your waist squeezed at every movement. You could hear faint ‘fucks’ coming from him only driving the want higher. The movement of you paired with the sweet smell of your dripping cunt was becoming too much for him. His hands hooked your at your pants “can I take these off?” He said softly.

You nodded letting him rid you of your sweats and your panties. He pushed his pants down after taking yours off. His big cock springing free finally. You could finally feel how big he truly was, fuck did you want him. His hands glided down your body moving your leg over his. His long fingers pressed against your needy nub making you whimper. His face was nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he licked up it.

His fingers lazy played with your clit before roaming further down. He couldn’t believe how wet you were, how wet you were for him. His fingers finally pushed into your dripping core curling ever so nicely. His movements were just as lazy, his thumb pressing against your clit once more. His mouth watered at the smell of you. He needed to taste you, and he needed to do it right now. With no warning he pulled himself from you quickly moving his body down yours.

He dived into your cunt, tongue quickly pushing into your folds. The moan you let out made his cock twitch. It was already leaking like a faucet ready to be buried inside you. “Fuck you taste even better than those cookies you made me” he said. His hands hooked around your legs pulling you closer to him as he ate you out like a starved animal. His tongue pushed deep inside you twirling around your tight walls. Your hands gripped at anything before gripping at his hair. You tugged on it softly making him groan “pull- ah- harder” he said. Of course you listened, tugging on his hair harshly pushing him somehow deeper into your cunt.

He felt like he was in heaven, fuck this must be heaven. Your cunt clenched around his tongue, knowing you were close he moved his hand to toy with your clit yet again. It didn’t take long after that for you to cum. Your body arched off the bed moans getting trapped in your throat only breathes making it past. He lapped up any of your sweet honey that dared to escape. Licking you clean before moving upwards to you. He kissed you messily. His cock head poking at your entrance.

Without any thoughts you moved yourself down letting his thick cock push into you. The stretch wasn’t bad, in fact the slight pain felt good. “Sh-shit” he moaned against your lips.

“Please- move” you whined out bucking your hips into him. His eyes met yours and what a sight to see. Your eyes were glazed over, cheeks flushed red. Fuck did you look so good. He blinked a second before everything sunk in. Your warm walls squeezing him so tightly. He started to move slowly before picking up speed.

His hands moved down pushing your shirt up. You quickly helped taking it off as he took his off too. He was delighted to see you didn’t even have a bra on either. His hands roamed your plush body, pinching at your perky nipples. He was quickly losing himself in you. His movements were becoming faster as his high was reaching near. “God you feel so fucking good, was this your plan all along huh? Get the big bad wolf all alone in your house to fuck you like a wild animal?” He teased.

“You- ah- you started it. You’re the one that was pressing there big dumb cock against me” you retorted.

“Can’t- can’t help it when you smell so good” he said back.

His movements were slowing down a bit making you whine. “Getting tired already? Need- ah need me to ride you?” You said with a grin. You felt his cock twitch at your words oh he definitely liked that idea. He wrapped his arms around you before lying flat on his back. Your legs straddled him the new position making him feel even deeper. His hands laid on your thighs those sharp nails digging into the soft skin.

As much as he wanted to show you how much of a big bad wolf he was he couldn’t help it. You were just too much for him, he was like some puppy dog that you had wrapped around your finger. When you finally got your feet in a proper spot you started moving. Bouncing up and down on his stupidly big cock. His knot forming as if his against your entrance. He watched as your tits bounced with every movement. His long tongue hung out of his mouth drool pooling with it.

“Fuck- just like that- ah” he moaned out. “Gonna let me knot you? Fuck please let me- need- need to breed you- ah- ah” he was such a mess under you. Your legs shook at the sight of him at his words. An orgasm washed over you without warning. Your body felt almost limp as it laid on top of him.

“I’m yours-“ you said in almost a whisper against his chest but he heard it. Oh boy did he hear it loud and clear. His hands gripped at your ass, fucking up into you with force.

“You’re mine? All mine?” He growled. “Good- all mine to- ah fuck- to breed- to claim- mine- mine” he kept repeating. Your hands that laid on his chest stared to dig in it his toned muscle. The slight pain Only driving him to fuck you harder. “Gonna take it all yeah? Gonna take everything I can give you- you’re mine. Mine.” He said.

“Yours. All yours.” You said softly against him. When those words finally left your lips that was it. He pushed up into you with one final thrust, his knot pushing past your entrance. The feeling alone bringing on another strong orgasm as you felt his balls empty inside you. His head that was nuzzled into your neck moved as he sunk his teeth deep into you. The pain the pleasure the everything of the situation had your mind floating. Your body shook harshly as you felt yourself squirting all over his cock and yourselves.

He let out a low growl holding your body tightly to him. He held you against him as you both came down from the intense orgasms. “You did so well” he almost purred into your ear.

A few minutes of silence mixed with heavy breathing filed the air before he spoke once more. “You really meant it right? That you’re all mine?” He asked sheepishly, afraid you’d take it back.

“I meant every word of it.” You said smiling. You kissed his cheek softly holding tightly to him.

You might have only known him as the asshole of the college but now. You were seeing him for who he truly was. He would let everyone believe he was still this big bad wolf that didn’t take anything from anyone. However when it came to you he was just a sweet overgrown puppy that would do anything for you.

[yutasbellybuttonpiercing]

slowly, i'm going down

access full masterlist here!

pairing: song mingi x reader (no pronouns mentioned, reader has female anatomy)

au/genre: college!au, tutor!reader, mingi does not give a shit about studying, smut

word count: 4816 words

warnings: voice kink (AHHHHH), oral and fingering (reader receiving), reader is a little mean, kitchen sex, anime references, cringe, a joke about adhd, dirty talk... um..., oh right Mingi has a big dick (wbk), everyone's a little silly, unprotected sex (boo ‼️👎🏻), premature ejaculation almost, creampie, cum eating... (not reader...), i think that's it. NOT PROOF READ YET!!

synopsis: mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice

or

mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves.

a/n: i was almost ready when i saw this tiktok and it completely blocked my mind because it's SO FUNNY, but at the same time, it's men being dudes, dudes being bros, and that kind of made it hard for me to continue. i apologize for the 24h delay 😞

taglist: @byuntrash101 @goquokka @ashwoodforest @choisansnotsolegalwife

Mingi is not one to sit there and look at books. Or papers. Or anything that doesn't move and feed his brain with bright colors and his ears with noises, really. He prefers to vibe, and studying is definitely not the vibe. Sadly, studying is a part of his life as a university student. Yes, he chose this path for himself and yes, he was aware that it would involve studying. Still, now that it's really happening and is not just an obstacle to overcome in the far, far future, Mingi kind of wishes he'd chosen something else to do with his life. It's just exhausting, why would he waste the precious time he has left on planet earth on something that doesn't get the serotonin floating? He's pretty sure he has some undiagnosed ADHD simmering up there, but who is he to judge that? He's certainly not studying to become a doctor or whatever.

Anyway, given the fact that Mingi doesn't like to study, he's not had much experience with it in the first place. He's barely gotten his way through school, but uni is a different level. Hence, he needs someone to 1) teach him how to study and 2) make him study, or rather: have a judging eye on him while he is supposed to study, so the fear of being called out on it may light a fire under his ass and force him to bury his nose between the stinky pages of an old library book (on that note: he also needed someone to show him how to check out books from the library).

And that's why you are here, every Thursday afternoon, sitting at the sad excuse of a kitchen counter slash dining table in Mingi's scandalously expensive apartment given its size, growling next to him every time you catch him analyzing the bumps on his wallpapers instead of the letters on the pages.

Mingi generally likes you, even though you are a bit scary, he has to admit, or maybe that's the appeal. You are polite, but you have a way of looking at him that makes him feel like he's getting mansplained by your eyes. Your taunting gaze on him makes him feel small, and he doesn't like that at all. It makes him feel like all these years of drinking milk to make him stand at the 1.84m he is at today were in vain. You always have that one expression on your face, and maybe that's just Mingi's subconsciousness telling him to STUDY HARD FOR GOD'S SAKE, but in the way your eyebrows would scrunch together just the tiniest bit, he reads: God, he is fucking stupid.

He doesn't know which (since he did not pay attention in biology class, nor is he even sure they teach that in biology class) chemical in his brain suffers an allergic reaction every time you look at him like that, but there has to be one. There is nothing that Mingi hates more than being called stupid. Well, except for studying, maybe.

Call him lazy, call him a scalawag, call him witty for being able to get through all of school without reading a single one of the set books if you must, but do not call him stupid.

The only problem is that you haven't, well, called him stupid per se. It's just how Mingi interprets your stares. Also, he desperately needs you because he doubts there will be many other contestants that are okay with getting paid as little as you are (which is all Mingi has left by the end of a month full of Pokémon trading cards). So Mingi just has to sit back and relax and simply take it because, apparently, that's what he gets for not studying his entire life.

A loud ringing wakes Mingi from his peaceful afternoon nap - one that he has really earned this time around, he managed to look through his study notes for a full 20 minutes during his lunch break!

Disoriented, Mingi raises his head to make out his location and what year he is in. It rings again. Slowly, Mingi recognizes the shrill sound as his door bell. He slowly gets up, a quick glance in the mirror tells him that his hair is an absolute mess (which is really a crowning achievement given his buzz cut length) and he has imprint marks from his blanket all over his right cheek, but his sleepy mind doesn't even take it in. Mingi furrows his brows and shakes his head. Who would dare to disturb his peaceful slumber at this ungodly hour (4pm)?

The answer, of course, stands right in front of his door. With your arms crossed and the tip of your shoe drumming a dent into Mingi's "come in if you're a silly baka"-door mat, you raise an unimpressed brow at the sleepy shell of Mingi that blinks one eye after the other.

A few seconds pass until Mingi finally realizes who you are, and his mouth forms an 'o'-shape. Immediately after, he furrows his brows once again, his body slumping forward a bit because: why on God's green earth are you here? Then, it hits him like a truck, the aftermath of the collision blowing the remaining sleep out of his eyes: it's Thursday afternoon!

"Sorry," he says and sheepishly scratches the back of his head, then steps aside to let you enter.

"It's fine, it's only freezing cold outside," you stare at him before stepping in, shudder as you kick your shoes off, slip into Mingi's guest slippers and hurry inside. Mingi's brain does not register the sarcasm drenching your words.

"Let's get to it, shall we?" You ask as Mingi finally manages to follow you into the kitchen. You sit, take out a few sheets of paper from your backpack, then look over questioningly as Mingi has not even moved a millimeter, but instead started yawning like his life depends on it. Your eyes drift down his body. "Or maybe after you've put on some pants?"

Mingi freezes, looks down to confirm that, indeed, he's not wearing pants, but Naruto boxer shorts, then covers his crotch with his hands and buzzes off into his room.

Minutes later, Mingi reenters the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips that, yes, he checked twice if he's wearing them the right way around. As mentioned, he is generally unable to properly focus on his studies, but today, it's exceptionally bad. Of course, you'd notice.

"Mingi, are you okay?" There's worry in your eyes – a sight Mingi has not seen. Ever.

"I'm fine, just tired," he mumbles, eyes unfocusing as he stares ahead.

"Yeah, you are? Why?" Mingi's tired mind cannot question why you suddenly seem so interested in his well-being. He also doesn't put any meaning into why you're scooting closer to him, your forearm accidentally touching his.

"I studied during my lunch break," Mingi informs you, a little, proud smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something tingles inside his chest as you carefully place your hand on his arm. As he looks over at you, you smile at him, and he notices your gaze flickering down to his lips for a second.

Hold on. Mingi's mind suddenly snaps out of its hazy state and works on overdrive. He might be the type to vibe, the type to just let things play out, but he'd be damned if he didn't notice when someone likes him like that. He suddenly notices the way you started creating skin-on-skin contact with him, the way you want to be closer to him, eyeing him even more than you ever did before. Just... why? Is it because you saw him in his Anime panties?

A few moments pass, and you sit back, then pat your pencil against the book to remind him of the reason why you're actually here. Mingi groans, admittedly a little dramatically and unreasonably erotic, brushing a hand through his hair to flex his biceps right in front of your face. You seem unimpressed.

"Well, fuck me," he chuckles deeply, the rasp in his voice more evident than usual due to his nap. It's then when you tense, he notices from the corner of his eye. Oh. Okay. So it's the voice?

"I'm really glad you're tutoring me, you know?" He purrs, throwing in a little praise to get you extra bothered, and you simply breathe out nervously.

"Heh, no worries," you brush him off. Mingi decides that, for now, he's made you suffer enough and keeps quiet. Instead, he focusses on his studies, although he's already planning his next step to terrorize you with the sultry rasp his vocal cords are gifted with.

"Mingi, focus-"

"No, I get what I have to do, the contents just won't stay in my head." Mingi reasons, his voice unusually, but not by chance, high pitched, eyebrows scrunched as to why the hell he has to do this before doing that only to do whatever next when it wasn't like this for the other exercise he had to do minutes prior. He is not stupid (!), he does understand how this works. It's just that it doesn't make sense, and that is surely not his fault.

"Are you stup-" you start, but shut your mouth before you're even able to call him the dumbest fucker you've ever crossed paths with. Mingi inhales sharply. Oh, oh, you're lucky he is patient, and you're lucky he knows that as soon as he growled a few dirty words into your ear, you'd slam your upper body on the counter without regards of caution, pushing your panties down under your skirt and begging him to take you right there - or at least, that's what he imagines.

Yes, Mingi is super patient, that's just what comes with the entire vibe-personality package, so he does not dump your cute sorry ass on his baka-door mat, but simply closes his pen, lays it on the table and looks at you. A fabulous idea plops into his mind.

"God," he groans as deeply as he can, stretching his arms over his head, "I guess I'm just a little" - he throws in a little moany sigh - "a little distracted today."

"A-are you?" You nod, biting your lip subconsciously. Mingi looks at you without moving his head. "Why?"

"Well, just stuff, you know?" Mingi enjoys how the rumble in his voice makes his throat and - obviously - you feel. "There's just a lot, going on. Like big... big stuff. Stuff that just keeps coming and coming, in and out, just like that. Ugh, I wish I could just let all this frustration out you know, all this pent up stuff." He watches for your reaction.

Unmistakably, your hand holding your own pen in a relaxed manner mere seconds ago now desperately grasps the poor objects until your knuckles turn white, your breathing is uneven and loud as if you'd just ran the entire way from Mingi's place to the next convenience store (seriously, why the fuck is he paying so much for this godforsaken apartment?). And - Mingi's favorite reaction to him ever: you're pressing your thighs together.

Oh, how Mingi loves himself a good reaction like this.

"Big stuff, huh?" Your voice trembles as your nervous eyes search for his. "H-how big?"

"Oh, really big. Just really fucking big," Mingi confirms with a slight smirk. He loves how you just fold easily like that. One second, you're over there feeling superior on your little throne of knowledge that Mingi lacks, and the next, you're making a little mess in your panties just because Mingi so much as spoke. Absolutely incredible. People should start calling him "the rizzler".

"I think-" you clear your throat, "I think I should head home then?"

Mingi smiles to himself as soon as you turn away to pack your stuff into your backpack. His hands automatically reach out to play with his pen, his long, slender fingers toying with the object, inevitably drawing your attention to the movements. "Already?"

"Mhm." You stare a second too long, gulp, then hastily stuff your belongings into the big compartment of the backpack, Mingi listens to the sweet melody of stressed breathing and papers crunching.

As amused as he is, he decides that it is time for the big reveal.

"Keep it in your pants, baby" he looks over, his eyebrow halfway raised, and stops rocking back and forth and fiddling with the pencil as you freeze in your tracks and stop packing. "What?"

Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. "So you know?" You manage to squeak.

Mingi smugly pushes his tongue into his cheek. He loves how you're basically vibrating out of nervousness. "Oh, I know."

You sigh, hands finally letting go of your stuff and motioning defeat. He wonders what's going on in your mind right now. Are you afraid he's going to call you out? That he's going to make fun of you? That he's going to call you a needy slut and send you home? Or are you wondering if he's going to give you what you want? Mingi loves this game.

That's why he decides to make your situation a little more miserable.

"I also know that you think I'm stupid," he explains calmly, trying his best to no longer show any excitement, smugness, or any emotion whatsoever on his sharp facial features to really confuse you. Well, that's what you're getting for (almost) calling The Song Mingi stupid. Just a little payback, is all. He's not going to go so far and make you cry. No, no, Mingi can't handle when people cry, much less so if it's because of him.

Nevertheless, your breath hitches. Oh, you're fully aware that he didn't like you calling him that at all. Oh, how the gears are turning behind your forehead as you're trying to figure out what's going on, and what's going to go on in the next minutes.

"Thought so," Mingi deadpans. Yeah, that's right. Look how smart he is now! Super smart! He's got you all figured out. He knows exactly what to say and how to act to make you feel - and, fuck, does this feel like redemption - stupid.

"I'm sorry-" you start, back facing Mingi's form, but Mingi is not here for it. Mingi has gotten what Mingi wants. Mingi feels as powerful as he imagines a lion to feel, like, every day.

"Dumb fucks good," he simply states, just putting it out there, throwing it into the room for you to do with that statement whatever you like. Mingi's mind is already satisfied, his ego stroked because he's just proven that he isn't dumb. Although... he wouldn't mind a little diddling because, if he's being honest, you're hot as fuck and seeing you react to him in this way- well, he's also just a man!

"What?" You probably think you must've terribly misheard him as you whip your head around to face the confident Mingi smugly leaned back in his chair. Your eyes meet his, and he is sure that you now realize that, no, you definitely did not mishear him. That was exactly what he said.

In the blink of an eye, Mingi feels your presence on his lap, a last final look into his eyes before he feels your lips against his, desperately chewing away the remaining air separating his spit from yours. It's messy, lips colliding, too much teeth and tongue, but it's all raw and desperate. Mingi gets the vibes that you may have had some pent up want for him, but that's honestly the last clear thought he can muster before you grind your hips against his.

A deep groan escapes Mingi's lips, inevitably echoing against your own quiet gasps that just turn louder with every movement of your hips, your hands frantically trying to touch him everywhere at once to the point where he has to grab your arms and pull you back. Your eyes, wide. And confused, but somehow lidded and hazy at the same time struggle to take in Mingi in front of you. Yes, Mingi is aware of the effect of his siren eyes.

For another moment, he simply enjoys seeing how destroyed you look already, but honestly, there is just one thing on his mind.

"I'm gonna eat you out," he informs, waiting for you to nod frantically, whine and scramble off his lap for him to keep his promise. And you do, allowing Mingi to grab your waist with his large hands and lift you onto the counter. Of course, he can't resist getting another taste of your lips, almost losing himself in the soft pillows that frame your pretty mouth, but the hardness creating a tent in his sweatpants reminds him that he should possible attend a little lower.

Hence, he kisses his way over your cheek towards your jaw, then over your neck and down your collarbones. Mingi is not sure what your opinions on love bites are, so he just hopes you can remember him being right here and here and here even without visual proof, he can save that for next time.

Okay, Mingi admittedly was not able to hold himself back completely, his teeth only gently nipping at your skin on his way down. He simply hopes for the best, but your sounds seem to imply that you do not mind him one bit. Instead, you sound as if you wouldn't mind him taking a few bites more.

Impatient as you are, you assist Mingi in pushing your shirt out of the way, the straps of your bra automatically falling down your shoulders to reveal more of you to his hungry eyes.

And as much as Mingi would like to spend hours playing with your chest, he keeps it down to a minimum, kissing the soft flesh while gently pushing the remaining material out of the way for better access. His lips wrap around a nipple, his hands meanwhile busy with massaging the other and carefully holding your waist. God, Mingi loves boobs. But he might love the way your fingers comb through his hair and gently pull on it a bit more even.

Finally, the time has come, and Mingi kneels down on the floor. Pushing your skirt up, hands caressing your thighs, he creates eye contact with your eyes glazed over by lust and want. It doesn't even faze him that he hasn't cleaned these floors in weeks, honestly, he is in so deep he probably wouldn't even realize if the stove was on, lighting his study notes on fire.

He wants to tease you more, make you wait, maybe make you beg even, but he just feels too hungry to keep waiting. His fingers hook into the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs as quickly as possible before spreading your legs and groaning in anticipation.

Throwing your thighs over his shoulders, he pulls you forward a little further, chuckling as you almost lose balance and smile at him. Okay, maybe Mingi feels a little tingle, and maybe that is not a horny tingle, but that's something to worry about later, if ever. Right now, he has a mission: dive in.

So that's what he does, obviously, planting a careful kiss right on your clit to wait for your reaction. And you do not disappoint, gasping slightly at the first sensation before getting louder and bolder the more Mingi tastes you.

His tongue gently parts your folds, getting a first taste of your juices. You basically cry out as his tongue prods at your hole, carefully easing its way inside to caress your walls.

Automatically, your hands fly to his hair, gently pulling at the roots to find a way to ground yourself, the feeling assumingely overwhelming, Mingi thinks, not to brag, but-

Mingi's eyes roll back at a particularly hard tug at his hair, paired with the way your hips grind closer until you're basically riding his face. Fuck, how are you so hot? Mingi's fingers grab hard at your thighs, loving the way the soft flesh feels in his hands.

To experiment a little more and, first and foremost, to get more rewarding reactions out of you, Mingi lets his mouth wander back up to your clit, gently sucking the nub between his lips, his tongue carefully flicking as not to overwhelm you. At the same time, a fingers sneaks its way over to circle your entrance.

Your throat coughs out a broken moan at this, your eyes switching between looking at Mingi's eyes and his mouth, and closing completely. Mingi loves taking in the pleasure written all over your face. He might not admit it, but he loves this kind of praise much more than verbal praise because your body really can't lie. He can literally taste how good he is at this.

He finally pushes his finger inside, loving how the wetness and muscle contractions are basically pulling him deeper and deeper until past his second knuckle. He feels around a little, trying to find the spots that seem to appeal to you the most, watching carefully how you react to each and every flick of his wrist.

Although, he feels that one finger is not enough to prepare you for the rest of him, so he adds another, massaging them into the spot that seems to be making you see stars with the way you grip his hair even tighter and mutter something he interprets as a warning that you're about to cum.

Keeping his pace, he successfully sends you over the edge, letting you ride out your high on his tongue before removing his lips, only getting his fingers massage the last clenches out of you.

Looking up he realizes you look, respectfully, wrecked, with your chest heaving, your hair a little messy and your eyes hazy and glossy, parted lips asking for his. And who is he to deny them, as he leans in to allow you to taste yourself. You seem to like it.

Pulling back after a while, he looks at you. You look so happy and relaxed like he's never seen before. For some reason, it reminds him of the weight in his pants that he suddenly feels the need to inform you about.

"You make me so hard," Mingi says lowly, carefully taking your hand to prove it to you, "feel." It's more your hand guiding his with how fast you reach down to feel him, eager to touch the outline of him through the sweatpants. And as if you're getting paid to stroke Mingi's ego even more, you gasp at his size.

Mingi can't help but smirk, of course, who wouldn't?

"Big stuff, huh?" You repeat your words from earlier, but this time no longer nervous, but cheeky as you bite your lip playfully. Oh, how Mingi would love to make you choke on his dick right now, just a little, and in a loving matter, but he's honestly waited long enough and he really just needs to be in you right now. And besides, Mingi is more in his giving > receiving era.

Instead, he grins. And he feels like there is something more.

Impatiently, you tug at his pants, successfully moving them a millimeter. Mingi helps you push his pants further down until it pools around his ankles. You giggle.

Damnit, Mingi. Why couldn't you've changed your underwear? Mingi mentally scolds himself, a good amount of his previously earned smugness flying out the window. Instead, he gives you kind of a sheepish look.

"I don't mind," you assure, tugging at his anime boxers next, "it's actually relieving to be reminded that you're still the cute, dorky Mingi and are not possessed by a sex demon."

"Incubus," Mingi points out.

"I don't fucking care. Just get this hideous thing off and have sex with me!"

Mingi does not need to be told twice, although he makes a mental note to scold you later for calling the one and only Naruto printed on a piece of fabric shielding his balls from the outside world hideous.

"God, fuck," you let out, and Mingi chuckles at your reaction to his naked lower half, "come here. Please."

You pull him closer, wrap your legs around him and beg him with your eyes. Mingi wastes not another second, aligning himself with your hole and slowly pushing forwards. Your eyes roll back as he enters you, causing you to hold onto him for dear life as he inches inside, filling you completely.

God, must your walls hug him so perfectly? Must you be so unbelievably wet just for him? Must you make these sounds? Mingi feels like he doesn't want to be inside anyone else ever again.

"I feel like I don't want to inside anything else ever again."

How did that get out there?

You chuckle, and have the nerve to pinch his cheek, as if he wasn't balls deep buried inside you right now. "You're so cute."

Cute?!

Mingi will show you cute. He grabs your jaw, admittedly still gently, and makes you look at him as he pulls almost all the way out until his tip catches at your entrance. "Cute?" And he pushes in all the way all at once. You moan, the feeling too much, too intense for you to still keep your eyes open. Helplessly, you cling to Mingi's body as he repeats the action 4 more times before setting a steady rhythm, angling his hips in a way that should stimulate the spot you liked so much earlier.

With your mouth hanging open and your eyebrows scrunched, you look like the prettiest thing Mingi's ever seen. He wants to see you drool, watch you completely lose your mind over nothing else but his cock. At the same time, he is surprised how good it feels. Well, not surprised that it feels good, but that it feels abnormally good, like he's about to nut in the next minute or so. Hopefully, he's able to coax another high out of you before that.

"What was it that riled you up so much earlier? My voice?" He growls, and you as much as whimper in return. "Yeah, like it that my voice is so deep?" You nod pathetically. "Cute."

"Mingi- 's so good."

"Yeah, am I fucking you good?" Mingi grins and you nod weakly, struggling to keep your eyes open. Mingi really shouldn't be the one talking big because honestly, he feels like if u moan one more time, if ur walls clench around him one more time, he is going to lose it. Something about this entire situation is just super surreal to him, or maybe it's simply you that is the reason for his premature high that is coming for him with fast steps.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, kissing your cheek before whispering, "can I please cum inside?"

"Shit, y-yes," you confirm, nodding quickly as you fight your hardest battle to keep your eyes open, focused and on the man that's currently grinding his tip into your sweet spot. Mingi feels like he loves you.

Mingi also feels like he's loosing his grip on reality, which is why he grabs your hips harder than before, using his strength to really slam his hips into yours with force, drowning his thoughts with the sounds of your moans. There is nothing on his mind except for you, you, you, and the primal need to make you his.

"Please," he groans, not quite sure what he's begging for, but it doesn't really matter in the end, does it? All that matters is that Mingi's ears catch the way you're begging him to cum for you, to fill you up, to please, please finish inside. He is not going to deny you that wish.

His hips stutter, his mind goes numb as he feels his muscles tighten and contract, releasing deep inside you. The feeling spreads in his body, feeling high and happy with such a forceful orgasm like this one.

Everything after is just a blur in his mind, he just remembers realizing that you didn't cum a second time, and he wouldn't be Mingi if he kept it that way. That's why he found himself back on his knees seconds after pulling out, sucking your clit back into his mouth, tasting his own release that's threatening to drip out if it wasn't for his fast fingers pumping in and out of you to push you over the edge.

It doesn't take long until you do, orgasm fueled by the lewd action of Mingi eating his own cum out of you, he assumes. Somehow, you two end up in his bed after, mostly because Mingi is a cuddler, partly because Mingi is not able to let you go yet. Or ever. Who knows.

© 2023 YUTASBELLYBUTTONPIERCING all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works.

[hanaeriin]

Hi hanae (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

I was wondering, what type of girl would Mitsuki, Suo and Kaji would fall for? Like, what's their type and stuff. I don't mind if you add someone else to the list but I was kinda just curious and thought I'd ask you! Thank you so much🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

DREAM GiRL. suo hayato ,, kiryu mitsuki & kaji ren x fem!reader ノ fluff, sfw & some chit chat about what the boys want in their ideal girl.

NOTE. i will admit, this one took an embarrassing amount of time of me just debating with myself cuz it's my first attempt at writing with i instead of you and on top of that, my own opinions !!?- i hope you enjoy this still despite the late delivery ><!!

“ SUO HAYATO.

❣ okie, i personally think he's the type who absolutely loves a girl who can put up with him, he's the kind of man who prefers being in control yet he likes being on the edge at times. i think his ideal girl would be someone who is daring yet he also prefers if she's very expressionate and is very easy to get flustered because i could definitely see this man will leave you hanging after a makeout session just to see you come running back to him hours later. he's a menace, don't say i didn't warn ya.

❣ if i had to put a ship dynamic for this, i would say opposite attracts because i don't know how to explain it...i feel like he's the kind of guy who loves the idea of bantering with his girl because it will give him an excuse to waste your time on him and let me tell you...this man is enjoying every single second of it!!

❣ he's the kind of guy who will accept all your flaws and almost anything just make you for who you are.

“ KIRYU MITSUKI.

❣ is it bad that i believe that he has a soft spot for girls with creative mindset like artist, writer and so on. the best way to explain it is that creative people tend to be more open-minded or so how i would like to believe, he would definitely like it if his girl is pretty chill enough to hanging out with the boys and someone who is pretty confident about herself because that's what he wants for you, who doesn't want a girl who can stand up for herself and maybe be a little unhinged too? he thinks it's a part of your unique charm.

❣ for ship dynamic, i would say carefree guy x chaotic girl, being the gentleman he is...he always let you do whatever you want because he thinks it's entertaining how chaotic you can get, he's like your personal cheerleader, he likes watching you being all happy despite the questionable things you do sometimes...

❣ whether you're a gamer or not, he would be so happy to have a gaming session just between the two of you. in his eyes, it's another date but virtually;; at home and being all cozy with each other. you two are practically inseparable.

“ KAJI REN.

❣ despite how he is, i believe his ideal type is a girl who is absolute sweetheart and is very friendly with those around her. basically someone who is the cheese to his spice if you get what I mean...he wants someone who is patient with him because he's aware that whenever he can't control his temper, he is easily blind by rage. i think he also wants a girl who can appreciate music and it's even better if she has good tastes on songs, and don't tell him that i'm telling you this...but i think he would absolutely love the idea of his girl singing or even humming to the tune, he thinks it's adorable.

❣ the ship dynamic for this is... the grumpy and the sunshine, i mean it's pretty obvious but you know this guy will never admit it out loud... he's a natural protector and while he might not have the brain but i believe standing next to him will make you feel safe, but please keep him on a leash though because he will definitely punch a random dude that was bothering you, his fists are yours to use.

❣ he has a soft spot for his girl, if you ask him for his stuff, he will give them to you no question ask. he will literally do anything for you... even if it's a bit embarrassing sometimes.

© HANAERIIN. please do no repost, translate, copy or use any of my works on any platform/train ai.

[419jhat]

Eddie's lagging behind his friends at comicon, lazily taking in a particularly cool d20 being sold in the artist alley when he spots her. Seated in a chair, looking bored as fuck while she scrolls on her phone, was the most beautiful Blossom he's ever laid his eyes on. She wasn't wearing the usual outfit. She'd switched it out for something preppy and modern- a pleated pink skirt swishing around her thighs, cute white socks, and a sweater vest that shows off how much she goes to the gym. She looks like she would've called him a freak in high school, but in a sexy way, which is a thought that he doesn't want to reflect on without his therapist present.

"You gonna shoot your shot?" Gareth asks.

Eddie feels like he's been caught.

"I don't know, maybe I will," he says with a shrug.

"She's out of your league, friend. She looks like she'd step on you."

"I know," Eddie sighs.

Gareth looks incredibly unimpressed . "Ugh. Go. Before I leave you standing here like an idiot and she notices you staring. Which you're doing a lot, by the way."

He finishes with a shove right between Eddie's shoulder blades, forcing him to stumble toward Ms. Blossom in a way that catches her attention. And then he has to walk up to her, because he's looking at her and she's looking at him, and neither of them are looking away and it's becoming a whole thing. He walks toward her slowly, because he can't think of what to say, and the way she's playing with her wig is really distracting and cute.

"Uh. Waiting for a Rowdy Ruff Boy?" he jokes awkwardly. Blossom's face morph into pure disgust and Eddie wants to melt into the floor.

"Seriously bro?" she asks with a shockingly deep voice.

Before Eddie can make his brain snap together a response, the other Power Puff Girls are running up to them.

"Steve! I hope you didn't wait long, Chris wanted to get one of those- oh. Hello," Buttercup says, when she notices him. Bubbles' blonde hair is very real, and very cute pulled into pigtails. Buttercup seems to have just dyed hers black for the occasion.

"Hi," Eddie says lamely. He waves at them, for some reason.

Buttercup gasps. "Are you hitting on him? We can leave and come back. Come on, babe," she says, grabbing Buttercup's hand.

"Don't fuck this up!" Bubbles says as she's pulled away.

"Oh my god, ignore them. What did you say?" Steve, apparently, asks. Eddie wants to crawl in a hole and die. He can just feel Gareth laughing behind him.

"It's was a joke. You know, the Rowdy Rough Boys?" Steve doesn't seem to know, so he adds, "the evil boy version of the Power Puff Girls?"

Steve looks down at his clothes as some kind of recognition dawns on his face. "Oh! Shit dude, I haven't seen the show. Rob and her girlfriend just really needed a Blossom."

This is usually the point Eddie would tease Steve about being a poser, but he looks so sincere (and his biceps are so distracting) that his game is totally out of shape. A guy who would don a skirt for his friends? A man after his own heart! He half wants to make up an excuse and leave to save himself from further shame, but he's too enticed by the cute moles on Steve's jaw that he lets himself suffer a little longer.

Steve looks him up and down and asks, "so what are you supposed to be?"

Eddie looks down at his ripped jeans and says, "...me."

He's internally kicking himself for leaving his own outfit in the hotel room.

Steve smiles up at him in a way that shows off his makeup. "Well it's working for you. You know when you first came up to me I thought you were asking me if I wanted to get rough with you."

Eddie laughs awkwardly, cheeks burning, because bombing an interaction this badly is exactly the kind of thing the universe would demand of him. Steve just stares at him. Eddie stares back awkwardly, wondering what he's supposed to even say. He can see Buttercup and Bubbles a few feet away, mouthing something at him combined with a collection of hand gestures he doesn't really understand. Steve sighs. Then he flicks the wig in a way that's kind of flirty and says, "that was an invitation, dude. You gonna take it or sit there and keep staring at my tits?"

And Eddie does take the invitation, thank you very much.

[asbealthgn]

wrote this goofy thing as an expansion of this post

It’s very surprising when the door to Eddie’s trailer opens and Eddie is standing there with flowers.

It’s even more surprising when he says, “Happy one month!” with a big grin.

Steve looks back and forth between Eddie and the flowers—wildflowers by the look of them, probably picked around the edges of the trailer park. “Uh, one month of what?”

Eddie gives him an uncertain smile like he’s not sure if Steve’s being serious or not. “Of our relationship,” he says, the last syllable tilting up almost like a question.

Huh. Kind of weird, but at the start of summer Steve and Robin had an ice cream party to celebrate the year anniversary of when they started at Scoops together. So it’s not like this is completely unheard of. Except—

“You and I have been friends for longer than a month,” Steve says, “It’s been like—” he tries to count the months since spring break in his head “—at least four? Unless you don’t count when you were unconscious in the hospital, but that was only a couple weeks, so—”

“I mean one month of our relationship,” Eddie says, putting emphasis on the word. And now his eyebrows are drawn together. Face concerned. And Steve is clearly missing something here.

Did something significant happen a month ago? Some moment where they moved from friends to best friends or something? It was probably about a month or so ago the first time Steve spent the night at Eddie’s trailer, but that wasn’t a huge deal. Steve has spent the night at the Byers’ house before and it’s not like he and Jonathan are breaking out the balloons to commemorate it. 

Steve feels guilty, because clearly there’s something that Eddie thinks he should know that he doesn’t. He doesn’t like this nervous look on Eddie’s face. Steve tries to think like Nancy, tries to put the clues together. But he’s not Nancy. So he’s lost. 

“I’m sorry, dude,” Steve says, “I don’t get what you mean.”

Eddie deflates.

“I know we haven’t necessarily defined it.” His voice is wavering, eyes getting watery. Shit shit shit, what did Steve do? This is so completely out of nowhere and Steve doesn’t know how to fix it. “But I didn’t realize it was actually that insignificant to you.”

Steve shoots his arm out to stop Eddie from closing the door on him. He needs to figure out what’s going on so he can make it right, and that’s not gonna happen if Eddie shuts him out. “Eds, seriously, you’re gonna have to fill me in,” he says, “‘Cause I honestly don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Seriously?” Eddie asks, anger over taking the sadness in his voice, “You’re gonna act like you don’t know?”

“I don’t!” Steve nearly shouts, desperate. “Please, man, I’m not trying to piss you off here. Whatever it is, I wanna make it right. You just have to tell me what you mean.”

“You and I,” Eddie says. Looking at him like it should be obvious. When it’s so, so not. It makes Steve want to scream. “We’re—I thought we were together.”

“Together? Like…together how?”

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen Eddie look this pissed off. “Use your goddamned brain, Harrington,” he spits, “Like together.”

Oh. Okay. That’s…something. It’s not that Steve would necessarily be opposed, or even that he hasn’t thought of it. It’s just not true. They’re not together. And he’s not sure why Eddie thinks they are. Yeah, they’re close, but it’s not like they’re closer than Steve and Robin. It��s not like they’re closer than Steve was to Tommy back in the day. He and Eddie haven’t done anything that feels outside the realm of friendship to him. And he definitely didn’t realize that Eddie saw it any differently.

“Um,” Steve says, aware that he’s standing like an idiot on Eddie’s doorstep and needs to answer. “Why?”

“Oh my God,” Eddie says, making as if to close the door again. Steve barely catches it in time. It makes Eddie glare at him. “There’s no way you’re being serious,” he says.

Keeping one hand on the door, Steve throws up the other one in a gesture he stole from Robin. “I really am,” he says, “You know what the kids say. I’m an idiot. You really have to lay things out for me.”

That at least makes Eddie soften a few degrees. “You’re not an idiot, Steve,” he says, “You’re just—oblivious, apparently.”

“Yeah, that too.”

Eddie sighs. “Just come in. We can talk about it.” He steps back and lets Steve come inside. The flowers are still clutched in Eddie’s hand, starting to wilt. Eddie sets them on the table before joining Steve on the couch. 

“A month ago is when you stayed over for the first time,” Eddie says. Steve nods. “And you kissed me.” Steve nods again. Eddie lifts his eyebrows significantly. “You’re not seeing the connection?”

Steve shrugs. “I mean, I guess there’s other ways you could construe that,” he says, “But I thought it was, like, a friend kiss. A goodnight kiss.”

“A friend kiss,” Eddie says flatly. “You kiss a lot of your friends?”

“Sure,” Steve says, “Well, Robin prefers forehead kisses and Jonathan’s more of a hug guy, but I used to kiss Tommy and Carol all the time.”

Disbelief is the main emotion on Eddie’s face. And a whole lot of other ones that Steve can’t quite parse out. “So—everything we’ve done,” Eddie says, slowly, like he’s trying to come to terms with it. “It’s all just…been normal friend shit to you?”

Steve thinks back over the last month, trying to think if anything stands out in his head as non-platonic. Maybe there’s been a time or two when he was kissing Eddie or cuddling up to him in bed or sitting on his lap during D&D where Steve’s felt a sort of stirring deep in his belly. But he figured that was one-sided. His body’s reaction to whatever was happening and not a manifestation of, like, feelings or something. After all, the same thing used to happen with Tommy when they’d do similar stuff. And clearly they were just friends.

After a full twenty seconds of Steve not answering, Eddie drops his head in his hands. “Holy shit,” he mutters. Then he lifts his head. “This—you—the other day. You slept over. We made out. You—you took my fucking shirt off, Steve.”

Yeah, that did happen. And Steve doesn’t have a great explanation for it. “I don’t know,” he says, “It was the heat of the moment or whatever.”

“The heat of the moment,” Eddie repeats, and Steve can’t tell if he’s on the verge of tears or the verge of laughing. Eddie puts his arm on the back of the couch and leans toward Steve. “Can you honestly say that you’re not attracted to me at all?”

Annoyingly, Steve can feel his face start to heat. “I never said that,” he mutters.

For the first time, Eddie looks triumphant. “So you are attracted to me?”

“Yeah, man,” Steve says, squirming uncomfortably. Of course he’s attracted to Eddie. What’s not to be attracted to? He’s smart, funny, hot, good with the kids, good on the guitar, good at kissing. Helped save the world. “You’re, like, it for me. I definitely think about you that way. I just didn’t think you thought about me that way.”

Eddie laughs, the sound containing more disbelief than humor, but still overall a good thing. “I can’t believe the guy who’s been sharing my bed for the past month didn’t think I was into him.”

“Hey, you’re not the only person whose bed I’ve shared.” Shit, that was a bad way to put it. “Platonically.”

Shaking his head, Eddie laughs again. “Clearly, your idea of platonic does not line up with mine,” he says. “But you mean it? You’re into me?”

“Yeah, Eds,” Steve says, “I’m into you.”

“So, does that mean you’d want to be my boyfriend?”

“Apparently I already have been for the past month,” Steve says, grinning.

Eddie grins back. “Doesn’t count if you didn’t know.”

“Then we can count from today,” Steve says, “Starting now, I’m your boyfriend.”

He hasn’t finished saying the last word before Eddie is surging forward and taking Steve’s face in his hands. He shifts onto Steve’s lap, kissing him deeply. 

And it doesn’t feel platonic at all.

[misctf]

Dude I saw that post about the dude becoming the football jock but like, upside down, and I gotta say I loved it. Has that ever happened before? Can it happen again? Love the idea of my hands becoming feet, feet becoming hands as a whole new person takes over my upside down self

You groaned as you slowly sat up in your bed, the morning light illuminating your room. With a sigh, you force yourself out of bed, grimacing at the pounding headache behind your eyes. Did you really drink that much last night? Were you really that hungover? You look down at your phone, the brightness bothering you somewhat as you notice several texts from your friends. Apparently something big was happening on the news. You figure it’s probably just another once in a lifetime event. You slowly stand up. You’d look into it in a moment, but only after you took some Tylenol or something.

“What the hell?”

You mumble, becoming acutely aware of your morning wood. It’s not uncommon, but fuck you were hard. And as you rub touch your dick through your shorts, your whole body shakes. The sensation is way too powerful, as if you hadn’t jerked off in weeks. And as that thought enters your brain, you suddenly realize just how horny you are. Your mind flashing with images of hot guys doing all kinds of things to you. You slowly pull down your pants, and fall back onto your bed. Your hand caressing your incredibly sensitive member. Each small touch sending a lightning wave of pleasure through your body. But as your eyes roll back into your head and you moan, you hear a sickening set of cracks fill the room. And you realize that something feels off. The hands around your dick don’t feel as soft. In fact, your hands don’t really feel like hands. Your eyes shoot open and you raise your hands to inspect them. Only they’re not hands. Your fingers have morphed into toes, your palms the bottom of two very large, masculine feet.

“What the fuck?”

You grimace at the smell that wafts from your two new feet. A muskiness that shares a similar odor to a gym locker room. And as your mind tries to comprehend what its seeing, you feel your arms violently contract. The pain and discomfort causes tears to well in your eyes and you watched through blurred vision as your forearms become shins. The muscles evolving into a set of powerful calves. You want to cry out, but the pain is quickly eclipsed by a pleasure that shatters your thoughts. Your dick seems even harder, pulsating and throbbing desperately for release. For freedom. The smell of your new feet sends you further into bliss and your mind tells you this is right.

“Fuck brah...”

The voice is just a whisper, but it carries with it a masculine edge that drives your libido even higher. It’s the voice of a total jock. The kind of guys you would only ever dream of sucking off. And in the haze of your splintering thoughts, part of you realizes something is wrong. Very wrong. You’re surrounded on either side by a pair of meaty thighs. Ones that squeeze your head, making it somewhat difficult to look around. But it’s not just that. From what you can see, your chest doesn’t look very much like a chest. Instead of two pecs, you see what looks more like a six pack, adorned on either side by a prominent V-line. All leading down to... all leading to you...

“Wh...”

Your voice becomes gargled as a salt liquid falls from your mouth, which is becoming increasingly more difficult to move. In fact, it seems like it’s being forced into a more oval shape. But you quickly become more concerned as you feel yourself lifted out of bed. Your face now pointing to the ground.

“Fuck this feels good.”

That masculine voices fills the room again. But it sounds louder. More prominent. Dripping with an arrogant confidence. You find it so sexy... so right. The voice of a real man... better than what you’d ever been. But in the midst of these blissful thoughts, there’s a resistance that surges. What are you thinking? You couldn’t... Any resistance fades though when you feel a firm, calloused hand wrap around your head.

“You’re gonna make me feel so fuckin’ good.”

The voice says. And before you can even think or muster up any kind of resistance, you feel the hand move up and down your new body. The feeling is beyond anything you’d ever experienced. As your body throbbed and stretched, the pleasure only amplified. The bag of your throat filling up with that salty taste from earlier. Your vision was starting to alter now- it was becoming harder to see. Even smell and hearing were starting to go. Yet, in these final moments, you could catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and the hand that was teasing you so much. All attached to the body of an adonis. The type of guy you’d gawk at in the gym. The cocky jock you’d jerk off to time and time again. Now he was jerking you off. Or well, himself. Because as your vision faded and you took one last glimpse of yourself, you knew what you were now.

“Just my fuck stick.” The jock breathed out, holding back a moan, “That’s all you’ll ever be from now on.”

He came just a moment later, coating the mirror with his seed. He fell back on his chair, breathing heavily. His one hand teasing his new, firm pecs while the others greedily pumped you. He smirked down at you, totally spent but clearly happy with his newfound independence. He looked down at your phone, noticing the messages your former friends sent. Just selfies of their new muscular bodies- their cocks limp and spent.

“Look at that lil dude.” He chuckled, “Don’t you worry,” He gave you a few strokes, your body instantly growing hard again, “We’re gonna have plenty of fun today.”

[darlingghoulette]

blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so

Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.

Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.

Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.

Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go. 

Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe. 

Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.

Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling. 

Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo. 

It was the proverbial straw. 

“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”

Nothing. 

“HEY!”

He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead. 

Silence rang for a beat.

Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range. 

The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him.  “Geez, need attention much?” 

Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?” 

Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.” 

It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.

But, see. That just gave him an idea. 

Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all. 

“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,” 

He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude. 

“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly. 

“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”

It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up. 

“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified.  “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.

“Yeah?” 

“Can you come here?” 

The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.

“You tired?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine--”

“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm. 

There was a countdown, three, two, one...

A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs.  “Dude, what the hell?” 

“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”

“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?” 

Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth. 

“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?” 

Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.

“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.

God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking. 

Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.” 

Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move. 

“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,”  Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them. 

“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”

“Dude, Eddie, noooo!” 

“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.” 

“You guys, let’s just go already,” 

“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,” 

The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together. 

It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.

What can he say? He’s a weak man. 

“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in. 

“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.” 

A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that. 

The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!” 

The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly. 

[ankababy]

A Home

Part 2

Chishiya x reader x Niragi

After winning another game, you found two boys. Unconscious, bleeding, and kind of pretty too. Anyways, you were an angel, so you took them in, and now, they’re waking up in your fancy apartment.

(Wrote this thinking of not roasted Niragi but it doesn’t really matter, so it can be both before and after the beach, no actual romance just Niragi making moves to have fun, english NOT my first language)

The first thing Niragi registered when he regained consciousness was the feeling of something soft. Too soft. His brain, still foggy from unconsciousness, automatically assumed one of two things:

1. He was dead.

2. He was dreaming about being rich.

But when he blinked and his vision cleared, revealing a glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling and a suspiciously clean marble floor, he realized something much more unsettling.

He wasn't fucking dead.

This was worse.

He groaned, shifting, and that's when he felt it—pain. A dull, aching pain everywhere. His body had been through some shit, and moving made him immediately regret waking up.

That's when he heard it.

A voice.

Calm. Unfazed. Judgmental.

"So you survived. Unfortunate."

Niragi's head snapped to the side. And of course. Of course. The first thing he had to see after surviving whatever fuck had happened was the one fucking guy he hated more than anyone else.

Chishiya.

That smug bastard was sitting up on the couch opposite him, looking as bored as ever, one arm draped over the backrest like he was on vacation. His expression was unreadable, but Niragi knew that if he had died, this dude would've been the first to loot his body.

"Wow." Niragi croaked, voice hoarse. "You're still alive? That's what's unfortunate.”

Chishiya didn't even flinch. He just tilted his head slightly, eyes scanning Niragi like he was trying to calculate how much blood loss it would take to kill him. "Tragic, isn't it?"

"Deeply."

Before Niragi could force himself up and punch him, something shifted in the room. A presence. A sweet one.

"Good morning! You're finally awake!"

Both of them turned their heads.

There, standing in front of them, was you.

And holy shit.

You looked like you didn't belong in this world. At all. Too clean. Too soft. Too... nice. Like some angelic creature that had somehow survived this thing with sheer kindness and, possibly, black magic.

Chishiya stared at you with interest, already analyzing. Niragi, on the other hand, openly squinted.

"What the fuck?"

You smiled warmly. "Oh, I found you two unconscious and bleeding out, so I took you in and patched you up!"

Silence.

"You did what?" Niragi snapped. "Why the fuck would you do that?!"

Your expression didn't change. "Because you were dying."

"And?" Niragi looked deeply offended. "That's how things work. People die. It's the natural order of—"

Chishiya cut in. "What he's trying to say is that you wasted your time."

You blinked. "You think saving you was a waste of time?"

Chishiya gave a small, indifferent nod. "Correct."

Niragi scoffed, trying to push himself up, only to immediately regret it as pain shot through his body. "Ow, fuck—"

"You really shouldn't be moving that much yet." you said, stepping forward instinctively, only for Niragi to flinch like you were about to stab him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Niragi barked, pointing a shaky finger at you. "Back up, Care Bear. I don't trust this."

Chishiya exhaled, unimpressed. "Obviously. If you trusted this, you'd be dumber than you already are."

"Shut the fuck up, bitch."

You clasped your hands together, watching them. "So... you two know each other?”

Both of them immediately turned to you and spoke at the same time.

"No." (Niragi.)

"Unfortunately." (Chishiya.)

You giggled. Giggled. Niragi stared at you like you were an alien, while Chishiya simply observed.

"Well, I'm Y/N." you introduced yourself, smiling brightly. "And you're currently in my home! Don't worry, I don't expect you to do anything in return. Just rest up until you're better."

Niragi, still processing, slow-blinked. "Okay. Yeah. Cool. But—why the fuck do you have such a fancy-ass apartment?"

You beamed. "Oh, I just found it! No one was left, so I took it!"

"...That's kind of fucked up."

You tilted your head innocently. "Would you rather I left it empty?"

Niragi opened his mouth. Closed it. Stared at you. "Okay, you're too calm. This is weird. You're weird."

Chishiya hummed. "Agreed. People like you don't exist anymore."

You simply shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. You two looked like you needed help, so I helped."

Silence.

Then Niragi scoffed, shaking his head. "Yeah, okay, but I'm still not thanking you."

Chishiya leaned back, smirking slightly. "Obviously. You have no manners."

Niragi shot him a glare. "Neither do you, dickhead."

"Incorrect. I have excellent manners. I just choose not to use them."

You giggled again, and it was honestly disturbing. Niragi wasn't used to this—actual warmth. It made his skin crawl. He eyed you like you might secretly be a serial killer.

Chishiya, meanwhile, just looked at you thoughtfully. "So. What happens now?"

You smiled. "Well, now you both get to heal up in peace! And maybe eat something."

Niragi's eye twitched. "This is a trap."

Chishiya nodded slightly. "I second that. This is suspicious."

You pouted. "You think I saved your lives just to poison you?"

"Yes." both of them said at the same time.

You laughed. "You two are funny."

"No." Chishiya corrected. "He's just loud."

Niragi turned to him, jaw dropping. "Oh my god, do you ever shut up?"

Chishiya tilted his head. "No."

You just smiled sweetly. "Well, at least you have each other!"

Both of them physically recoiled at that.

"Fuck no." (Niragi.)

"Don't say that again." (Chishiya.)

You giggled. Again. It was terrifying.

"So," you chirped, tilting your head slightly. "What are your names?"

Niragi and Chishiya both went silent.

Chishiya, to be fair, had already been silent—watching, listening, assessing—but Niragi? He was actively avoiding answering. You could see it in his face, the way his lips pursed slightly, the tiny furrow in his brow. He didn't like giving out information. Neither of them did.

But you? You were patient.

Chishiya, as expected, was the first to break the silence. "Chishiya."

You nodded, smiling warmly. "Chishiya." you repeated. "That's a nice name."

Chishiya hummed noncommittally, watching you. It was strange—his expression was almost completely blank, but you could feel his thoughts running at high speed, analyzing, picking apart everything you said.

That was fine. You were used to it.

Then you turned to Niragi expectantly.

He narrowed his eyes. "Why do you wanna know?"

You blinked. "Because I saved your life?"

"Tch." He looked away, muttering, "It's Niragi."

You smiled, pretending you didn't hear the hostility in his tone. "Nice to meet you, Niragi."

Niragi made a face, shifting uncomfortably. "You're really too nice.”

Chishiya let out a quiet chuckle, like Niragi being irritated was mildly entertaining. "Not used to kindness?"

Niragi shot him a glare. "No, actually. I'm allergic."

"Ah." Chishiya nodded in mock understanding. "That explains the rash on your personality."

Your eyes flicked between them, amused. "Do you two always talk to each other like this?"

"Yes." (Chishiya.)

"No, usually it's worse." (Niragi.)

You giggled. Niragi visibly shuddered. "Stop doing that."

"What?"

"That creepy little giggle. You sound like a horror movie.

"That's just how I laugh!"

"Yeah, well, laugh worse."

Chishiya leaned back, crossing his arms. "You're deflecting."

"No shit, Sherlock."

You smiled, unbothered. "So... how long have you two known each other?”

Chishiya barely reacted. Niragi, on the other hand, let out an exaggerated groan. "Too fucking long."

"Not long enough," Chishiya muttered. "considering you're still alive."

You just watched them bicker, your head tilted slightly in curiosity.

Chishiya was fascinating.

The way he spoke, the way he moved—there was control in everything he did. He gave just enough to keep the conversation going but not enough to actually reveal anything. You recognized it immediately.

You had worked with people like him before.

People who knew they were smart. Who didn't trust easily. Who lived in their heads more than in the real world. Who stayed five steps ahead, always.

You also knew that someone like him? He wasn't just naturally like this.

Something had made him this way.

You turned to Niragi next. And, oh.

It didn't take a trained professional to see that Niragi had shit going on.

But you were a trained professional.

And holy shit.

He was wound so tight. Every move was a defense mechanism—every word, every glance, every breath dripping with aggression. His hostility wasn't random; it was habitual. Built over years of... something.

You didn't need to know the details to know that he had been hurt before. Badly. Which was exactly why he was acting like this now.

Still, you didn't press. Not yet.

Instead, you just said, "You two seem... different."

Niragi scoffed. "No shit."

Chishiya's gaze flicked to you. "What gave it away?"

You shrugged playfully. "Just a hunch."

Niragi let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back into the couch. "So, what, you used to be a detective or something?"

You smiled sweetly. "A therapist, actually."

Silence.

"No." Niragi immediately sat up, despite the pain. "I'm out."

Chishiya's lips quirked in mild interest. "That makes sense."

You blinked at Niragi, concerned. "You shouldn't be moving so much yet—"

"No. No. I refuse to be psychoanalyzed."

"I wasn't going to psychoanalyze you." you said, smiling. "I mean, unless you want me to?"

Niragi looked at you like you had just suggested murder. "Absolutely fucking not."

Chishiya, meanwhile, was still staring at you. Thinking. You could practically see the gears turning in his head.

A therapist.

That was new.

That meant you weren't just naive. You weren't just blindly nice.

You understood people.

Which meant you understood him.

And that? That was more dangerous than any gun.

You just smiled. "Well, don't worry. You're safe here. I won't make you talk about anything you don't want to."

Niragi narrowed his eyes. Suspicious. "For real?"

"For real."

"...Fine." He relaxed slightly, though he still looked deeply untrusting.

Chishiya, on the other hand, was watching you even more intently now.

"You're not what I expected." he admitted.

You tilted your head. "What did you expect?"

"Someone either stupid or desperate."

You laughed softly. "Well, I'm neither."

Chishiya's lips quirked again. "Clearly."

Niragi groaned. "Oh my god, don't start liking her."

Chishiya barely reacted. "I don't like anyone."

"That's what I'm saying!" Niragi waved a hand at you. "She's too nice. It's suspicious."

You just smiled. "I guess you'll have to deal with it."

Niragi muttered something under his breath, slumping back down. Chishiya simply watched you a little longer before finally closing his eyes, as if filing everything away for later.

You knew this was just the beginning.

But you weren't worried.

You had time.

Niragi was staring at the ceiling. Chishiya, ever the picture of nonchalance, had his eyes half-closed, looking as if he was two seconds away from slipping into a coma—not because he was exhausted, but because reality itself bored him.

"Are you two hungry?" you asked sweetly.

Nothing.

No reaction.

Not even a blink.

Chishiya didn't look at you, didn't acknowledge the question, didn't do anything besides continue breathing. Niragi, on the other hand, did react—just in the most Niragi way possible.

He scoffed. Loudly. Dramatically. As if you had just asked him whether he wanted to start a gratitude journal.

"You think we trust you enough to eat something you made?" he sneered.

You blinked. "Yes."

Niragi opened his mouth. Closed it. Squinted at you. "You say that like it's obvious."

"It is obvious." You stood up, stretching slightly. "You need to eat to recover. So, I'm making you food."

Still, no reaction. Neither of them moved. Neither of them agreed or refused.

Fine. That was fine. You weren't expecting a "thank you" or a grand speech of appreciation. You could tell exactly what they were doing—creating distance, keeping their guard up, making sure they didn't owe you anything.

You understood. Really, you did.

But that wasn't going to stop you. So, without another word, you walked toward the connected kitchen.

Immediately, Niragi's voice followed you. "Wait, you're actually cooking?"

"Yes."

"What the fuck?"

You didn't respond, already moving to the stove. The pot on the burner was already filled—leftover soup you had started earlier, still warm. You reached for a spoon, stirring gently, the scent filling the air instantly.

Chishiya didn't move or react, but Niragi? His head tilted the tiniest bit, like he was trying not to be obvious about sniffing the air.

You had to suppress a giggle.

They weren't going to ask for food. Oh, no. That would be too easy. They were too stubborn for that. Which was why you weren't going to wait for permission.

You kept stirring, the rich aroma of the soup spreading. It had been a while since you'd made something decent—soup was simple, easy, comforting. You weren't sure what these two had been eating before you found them half-dead, but judging by how they looked under all the blood and bruises, it wasn't much.

From the couch, Niragi groaned loudly, flopping dramatically onto his side. "This is so fucking weird."

"What is?" you asked, not turning around.

"This." He waved a hand vaguely in the air. "You. Cooking. This whole 'let's take care of the random half-dead guys I found' bullshit."

You hummed. "Would you rather I had left you there?"

"Yes!"

A beat of silence.

Then Chishiya: "No, he wouldn't have."

Niragi snapped his head toward him. "Shut the fuck up."

Chishiya didn't even look at him. "You're still here, aren't you?”

"I can leave anytime I want." Niragi shot back.

Chishiya finally turned his head slightly, expression unreadable. "Then why haven't you?"

Niragi froze.

You hid a smile, still focused on the soup. That was interesting.

Chishiya wasn't just observant—he was ruthless about it. He had no problem pointing things out that other people would avoid saying out loud.

You liked that.

Meanwhile, Niragi—having zero rebuttal—just let out another frustrated groan and dropped back against the couch. "God, I hate you."

"Likewise."

They both hated each other. And yet... neither of them had moved.

You smiled to yourself.

You gave the soup another gentle stir before ladling it into bowls. The warmth of it curled through your fingers, and as you turned around, you caught them.

Both of them.

Niragi and Chishiya.

Trying so hard to look uninterested.

They didn't move. Didn't react. But their eyes flickered—just barely—to the steaming bowls in your hands.

You knew they were hungry. Obviously. Their bodies were recovering, their wounds were fresh, and it had probably been days since they'd eaten properly.

But they weren't going to say anything. Because admitting that they needed something? Admitting that they relied on someone else?

That was too much.

You smiled sweetly. And completely ignored their bullshit. You walked up to the small coffee table in front of them, placing the bowls down with a gentle clink.

"Eat." you said simply.

Silence.

Chishiya stared at the soup, then at you, his expression blank but his mind obviously racing.

Niragi? He just glared.

"I never said I wanted it." he muttered.

You just smiled. "I know."

More silence.

The soup smelled amazing. You could tell, because Niragi kept sniffing the air without realizing he was doing it. Then he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You think I'm just gonna eat it because you put it in front of me?"

"Yes."

His eye twitched. "You're so fucking weird."

"I've been called worse."

Then, with a dramatic, suffering sigh, Niragi grabbed the bowl.

Victory.

Chishiya? He didn't reach for his immediately. Instead, he just... watched.

Watched you.

Watched Niragi.

Watched everything.

And then, after a long, slow moment, he finally—casually, effortlessly—picked up the bowl and took a small sip. He didn't react. But you noticed the way his fingers curled slightly more securely around the ceramic.

He liked it.

He just wasn't going to say it.

That was fine.

You weren't expecting thanks. You weren't expecting gratitude.

All you wanted was for them to eat.

And now? They were.

You smiled to yourself and returned to the kitchen, humming softly as you cleaned up. Behind you, on the couch, Niragi grumbled under his breath, still half-muttering insults at Chishiya between bites.

Chishiya didn't respond. He was too busy finishing his soup.

By the time you were done cleaning up the kitchen, the two of them had nearly finished their soup.

Which, really, was hilarious considering how Niragi had dramatically refused the idea of eating anything made by you just minutes ago. And yet, there he was, scowling at the spoon in his hand

Chishiya, on the other hand, had barely made a sound as he ate. No complaints, no praise, just silent, efficient consumption like he was running off of pure logic.

Food = survival. No need to make a fuss about it.

You approached them again with your usual warm smile, hands clasped together.

"So," you chirped. "since you're both fed and alive, this place has plenty of bedrooms. You don't have to keep sitting on the couch all night."

Chishiya barely reacted.

Niragi, however, snorted. "Oh, do we not?"

"You don't." you confirmed sweetly. "I can show you some, or you can just go find one yourself if you're that fed up with me."

Chishiya's lips twitched at that. Just the faintest smirk. He liked the way you phrased that—the fact that you knew exactly how they were acting and didn't even take offense to it.

Niragi just clicked his tongue, leaning back on the couch. "Tch. Like hell I trust any of the bedrooms in this creepy rich-ass place."

You tilted your head, amused. "You trust the couch more?"

"I trust myself more.”

"You're literally injured."

"I'd rather sleep in a ditch than get comfortable here."

You shrugged. "Okay, the door is open too."

Niragi stared at you. "Are you actually kicking me out?"

"No." you giggled, "I'm just giving you options! You seem like the kind of guy who doesn't like being told what to do."

Niragi made a face. "Oh, fuck off."

Chishiya finally stretched his legs slightly, glancingat you. "How many rooms?"

"Enough."

Chishiya's eyes flicked up to the ceiling, as if calculating the space. His mind was always working—always analyzing. You could practically see the gears turning.

"Five." he guessed.

You beamed. "Close. Six."

"Hm."

Chishiya's gaze flicked toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms. You knew exactly what he was thinking.

A house this big? With this many rooms? Still fully intact?

It wasn't just luck. There was a reason you had secured a place like this. Chishiya was too smart to ignore that.

Niragi groaned. "Whatever. I call the biggest room."

You smiled, hands on your hips. "You'll have to find it first."

Niragi's eyes narrowed. "...Is that a challenge?"

Chishiya sighed, rubbing his temple. "You don't even have the energy to stand."

"Shut up." Niragi grumbled, but didn't actually get up.

You laughed softly. "The rooms are all clean, and they even have actual beds. Fresh blankets, too."

Niragi rolled his eyes. "Oh, you're really selling this, huh?"

You smiled, unbothered. "I'm just being nice."

"Too nice." Niragi crossed his arms. "What's your deal?"

Your smile softened slightly, but you didn't answer right away.

Instead, you tilted your head and asked, "Do you think people only do things when they want something in return?"

Niragi hesitated. Which, really, said everything.

You just smiled. "You should go rest. Both of you. Your bodies need it."

Chishiya exhaled through his nose, standing up first. "I'll find one myself."

You nodded. "Go ahead."

He didn't move immediately. He just stood there for a moment, looking at you—not suspiciously, not threateningly, just... observing. Then, finally, he turned and disappeared down the hall.

Niragi groaned again, shifting to lay down on the couch. "I'll move later." he muttered.

You just smiled. "Okay."

And with that, you walked away, leaving them to their own devices. Because at the end of the day? You weren't forcing them to do anything.

You were just offering something they weren't used to.

A choice.

A home.

~

You knew exactly which rooms they had chosen.

It was easy.

You'd left all the doors open on purpose. So when two of them inevitably ended up closed—well. That told you everything you needed to know.

One belonged to Niragi.

One belonged to Chishiya.

And since you weren't in the mood for an argument right now, you decided to check on Chishiya first.

So, with a soft knock, you pushed the door open.

Chishiya was there, as expected, sitting on the edge of the bed. His posture was relaxed, but not lazy. A picture of calm, but never vulnerable.

His eyes flicked to you immediately when you entered. Always alert. Always watching.

You smiled. "Hey."

He didn't say anything—just gave you a slow, expectant look, like he was already calculating the reason for your visit.

You stepped further in, crossing your arms lightly. "I wanted to let you know that the shower works."

Chishiya raised a brow. He didn't look surprised, per se—just mildly intrigued, like he hadn't expected you to bring it up.

You continued, ever sweet, ever patient. "I set up a system with rainwater, and I got a boiler working with solar energy. You can take a hot shower if you want."

A pause.

Then, finally, he spoke. "You built that yourself?"

You grinned. "Impressed?"

Chishiya's lips curled just slightly. "Not quite."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "Right. Because nothing impresses you."

His smirk widened a fraction. He wasn't denying it.

You sighed dramatically, shifting your weight onto one foot. "Anyway, just be careful. The system's pretty stable, but I still don't trust it completely. So don't do anything stupid and end up flooding the place."

Chishiya tilted his head, as if amused by the idea. "I'll try to contain myself."

"Please do." you said, voice sickly sweet. Then, without missing a beat, you added, "Oh, and—"

You smiled. Soft. Kind.

Too kind.

Fake kind.

"—don't even try anything. My door's closed."

Chishiya blinked.

Because you weren't just sweet.

You weren't just kind.

You were smart.

You knew exactly the kind of person he was.

And you planned accordingly.

Chishiya exhaled through his nose, the closest thing to a chuckle you'd heard from him yet. He leaned back slightly, resting his arms against the bed, studying you.

"You think I'd try something?" he mused, tone light, teasing.

"I think you're smarter than that." you replied easily.

A beat.

Then Chishiya's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. "Interesting."

You simply gave him one last sweet, angelic smile before turning toward the door. "Goodnight, Chishiya."

And with that, you left.

The door clicked shut behind you, and as you walked down the hall, you knew—knew without even needing to see—that Chishiya was still smiling to himself.

You were a smart girl.

And he liked that.

When you arrived there, you took a deep breath before knocking on the other door that was closed.

You knocked twice. A beat of silence, then—

A loud, dramatic groan from the other side.

"What now?"

You rolled your eyes and pushed the door open.

And there he was—Niragi, in all his irritating glory, sprawled across the bed. One arm behind his head, shirt half-ridden up, legs spread out just enough to be annoying.

He squinted at you lazily. "Oh, it's you."

"Of course it's me."

He groaned again, rolling onto his side in the most dramatic way possible. "What do you want? I'm tryna sleep here."

You crossed your arms. "I came to tell you the shower works."

That got his attention.

Niragi blinked. "Wait. What?"

"I have rainwater stored, and I managed to get a boiler running with solar energy." You tilted your head. "You can take a shower. A hot one."

Niragi stared at you like you had just told him the sky was made of gold. Then, suddenly, he sat up—grinning, wild and sharp, like a fucking hyena.

"Oh, shit." he snickered, running a hand through his now let out hair. "You mean I don't have to smell like blood anymore?"

You sighed. "I mean, it's up to you."

He stretched his arms, cracking his neck. "Damn, maybe you really are an angel. Here I thought you just liked keeping dirty, injured men in your house for fun."

You gave him an unimpressed look. "Yes, Niragi. That's exactly what I do in my free time."

He grinned. "If you wanted me in your bed, babe, you could've just said so."

You sighed again, rubbing your temple. "That is not what I said."

He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. "I mean, I get it. Who wouldn't wanna sleep next to me? I'm warm, I smell good—"

"You literally just said you smell like blood."

Niragi ignored that. "—and I'd keep you safe all night."

You raised a brow. "You can't even stand up properly."

He grinned wider. "That just means I'd have to let you do all the work."

You leaned against the doorframe, tilting your head slightly, eyes glittering with something playful. "That's so cute. You think you'd survive me?"

His grin froze.

Just for a second.

Then, he laughed. Loud. Unfiltered. Amused as hell. He licked his teeth, watching you with way too much interest. "You like playing hard to get, huh?"

You shrugged. "You like losing?"

That hit.

That hit hard.

Because for the first time, Niragi actually shut up. Just for a second. Just enough for you to know that you had won.

"...Fuck." he muttered, almost to himself. "You're fun."

"I know." you said sweetly. "Now go take a shower before I change my mind."

You turned to leave—but of course, Niragi couldn't let you go without one last word.

"Hey, babe?"

You paused in the doorway, looking back.

He smirked. "Your door open, or closed?"

You grinned.

"Locked."

And with that, you walked away—leaving Niragi sitting there, grinning like an idiot.

~

You knew something was wrong the second you stepped into the hallway the next morning.

The air felt off.

It wasn’t a sound—because they weren’t making any. It wasn’t even an instinct, though you had plenty of that.

It was just that deep, unshakable feeling you got when you walked into a room and realized you were one second away from witnessing homicide.

And that’s exactly what was happening.

You turned the corner into the kitchen and—yep. There they were.

Chishiya and Niragi.

Standing there, dead silent, staring each other down like two wolves deciding whether they wanted to rip each other’s throats out before breakfast.

Niragi moved first.

Not towards you. Towards Chishiya.

One sharp, sudden step—his whole body tensed like he was about to fucking lunge, like he was about to do something stupid.

And Chishiya? Didn’t move an inch. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t react. Just stood there, perfectly still, perfectly calm, eyes half-lidded like he was already five steps ahead of this entire situation.

Which, knowing Chishiya? He was.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

You cleared your throat. Loudly.

Both of them turned to look at you.

You raised an eyebrow. “Are we committing murder before or after breakfast?”

Niragi snorted. “That depends. You making anything good?”

You sighed, stepping into the kitchen like you weren’t walking into a fucking crime scene. “Depends.” you said, moving past them to grab some supplies. “Are you two gonna be civil, or am I cooking while dodging bullets?”

“Can’t make promises.” Niragi muttered, side-eyeing Chishiya.

Chishiya, for his part, said nothing. Just shifted slightly, tilting his head, gaze dissecting.

Watching Niragi. Watching you.

You exhaled through your nose. Of course.

They weren’t going to make this easy. That was fine. You didn’t expect them to.

Instead of scolding them, instead of trying to force anything, you did what you did best.

You read the room.

Because here’s the thing—people like Niragi? They didn’t start fights for no reason. Not really. He didn’t wake up thinking, hm, who should I try to kill today?

No—he woke up looking for control.

And Chishiya? Chishiya didn’t wake up looking for a fight. But he sure as hell wasn’t backing down from one, either.

So this wasn’t just aggression.

This was posturing. This was two men who hated each other testing the limits of the space they now shared.

Which meant there was only one thing you needed to do. You needed to give them something else to focus on.

So you got to work. And most importantly? You talked.

Not to them, really. Just enough to keep them engaged without forcing them to cooperate.

“So,” you hummed, cracking an egg into the pan. “how’d you two even end up in that mess I found you in?”

Silence.

Niragi scoffed. “That mess?” He snorted. “Try a fucking bloodbath.”

You hummed. “Right, yeah, I noticed that part.”

Chishiya finally spoke. “Tch. Not surprising.”

Niragi rolled his eyes. “Oh, here we go—”

“I’m just saying,” Chishiya mused. “it’s not like you’re particularly good at self-preservation.”

“Fuck off, rat.”

You sighed. “Okay, so still not cooperative.”

Niragi gave you a shit-eating grin. “Aww, babe, don’t take it personally.”

You shot him a look. “I don’t. I just think it’s hilarious that you two can’t even answer a simple question without fighting.”

Chishiya sighed, rubbing his temple. “We’re not fighting.”

Niragi grinned. “Yeah, baby, this is just how we talk.”

“Oh, so this is bonding, then?” you deadpanned.

Niragi shrugged. “Something like that.”

You just shook your head, flipping the eggs.

It didn’t matter. They were calming down. They were still distant, still purposefully difficult, but that was fine.

You weren’t trying to fix them.

You were just making breakfast.

And in a world that had taken so much from them, that was probably the best thing you could do.

You let the conversation die out for a bit, focusing on not burning the eggs while the two grown, violent men in your kitchen continued their silent pissing contest.

They weren’t trying to kill each other anymore, but you could feel the tension, the way Niragi kept throwing sideways glances at Chishiya, and the way Chishiya pointedly ignored him like he wasn’t even worth the energy.

God, you were babysitting.

And yet.

And yet.

You liked them.

Not in a wow, what great, emotionally well-adjusted people kind of way.

More like a wow, these are the worst fucking people I’ve ever met and yet I kind of want to keep them alive kind of way.

Which was dangerous. So dangerous.

But you never did have much self-preservation.

So you tried again.

You flipped the eggs onto a plate, moving to grab some bread, and—casually, like you weren’t expecting much—asked: “So. You still didn’t answer my question.”

Chishiya hummed, eyes lidded, uninterested.

Niragi, on the other hand, sighed so loudly it was like you had just asked him to recite the entire history of the universe.

“What fucking question?” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow. “How you two ended up bleeding out in an alley.”

Silence.

Not the murderous kind of silence, at least.

Just hesitation.

Which meant you had them.

You pressed. Gently.

“I mean, was it a fight? Did you get jumped? Were you two just being dumbasses?”

Niragi scoffed. “The last one.”

Chishiya sighed. “Obviously.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

You fought back a grin. “Okay, so what happened?”

Niragi clicked his tongue, leaning against the counter. “Tch. Got caught up in some shit.”

You hummed. “What kind of shit?”

Niragi grinned, sharp, mean. “The fun kind.”

Chishiya sighed. “The kind that almost got him killed.”

“The fun kind.” Niragi repeated.

You blinked. “You have a very different definition of fun than I do.”

He laughed. “What, you don’t like a little bloodshed?”

“I don’t like dying.” you said simply.

Chishiya gave you a slow, approving look. “Smart girl.”

Niragi rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Guess we just ran into the wrong people at the wrong time. Shit happens.”

You tilted your head, thoughtful. “Shit does happen.” You turned, handing them plates of food. “How many days do you have?”

This was a test.

A subtle one.

If they lied, you’d know. If they refused to answer, you’d know.

Because you were a therapist.

You knew people

And right now, you knew that Niragi was stalling. Clicking his tongue, leaning back, making a big show of thinking about it.

“Hmmm.” he hummed, exaggerated. “Why do you wanna know, angel? Wanna trade?”

You smiled, too sweet. “No, but I would like to know if you’re about to drop dead in my house.”

Niragi laughed. Loud, sharp, amused as hell.

Chishiya, on the other hand, watched you. Studied you. Then, finally, he spoke “Seven.”

Your eyes flicked to him.

And there it was.

Honesty. Cold, simple, factual honesty.

Chishiya had seven days.

You looked at Niragi expectantly.

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Ugh, fine. Five.”

You clicked your tongue. “You should be more careful.”

Niragi snorted. “What, you worried about me, sweetheart?”

You shrugged, turning back to your own food. “I just don’t wanna clean up a corpse in my living room.”

Chishiya huffed out a quiet laugh. Niragi grinned.

You let the conversation settle after that.

They weren’t cooperative. Not really.

They didn’t trust you. Not completely.

But they answered you.

And that was enough.

For now.

Because you had a plan.

Because right now, in your apartment, you had two wild animals sitting at your table.

One too smart for his own good.

The other too reckless for anyone’s good.

And you were about to leave both of them unsupervised. On purpose. Because you knew exactly what you were doing.

You grabbed your bag, casually tossing a few supplies inside—knife, flashlight, extra cloth, some food. Nothing crazy. It wasn’t going to be a long trip. At least, it shouldn’t be.

Niragi was watching you.

Not subtly.

At first, he just glanced. Quick, uninterested, shoving food into his mouth like a fucking caveman.

But when you grabbed your coat?

When you slung your bag over your shoulder?

That’s when he actually looked.

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh… babe?”

You hummed, fixing the strap. “What?”

“Why the fuck are you getting ready like you’re about to head out?”

You blinked at him. “Because I am?”

Silence.

“The fuck do you mean you are?”

Across from him, Chishiya didn’t react much. He just tilted his head slightly, observing. Like he was just as curious, but not as dumb as Niragi, so he wasn’t about to react like a fucking child.

Niragi, however, had no such restraint.

He squinted at you. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

You sighed. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“To find some supplies.”

He scoffed. “Tch. You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re seriously leaving me and—” He gestured vaguely to Chishiya. “this asshole alone in your house?”

Chishiya blinked slowly. “You’re a child.”

“And you’re a rat.” Niragi turned back to you. “Seriously, you’re leaving?”

“Yes, Niragi.” You threw some light, pretty pink clothing around your shoulders. “I need to go out. I need supplies. I need—” You waved vaguely at the door. “shit.”

He scoffed again. “Tch. What kind of shit?”

You shrugged. “Just things. Food. Bandages. Stuff to keep you two from dying.”

Chishiya hummed. “How responsible.”

“Right?” you quipped. “I should get an award.”

Niragi wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t mad, but he wasn’t happy either. Because despite the smug, cocky, overconfident asshole persona—there was something else.

Not concern, no. That wasn’t his style.

More like… uncertainty.

Like he didn’t like the idea of you going out there alone. Not because he cared. No, no, that’s ridiculous.

(At least, he’d tell himself that.)

But because in his fucked-up, messy, unhinged brain—

He didn’t trust the world.

And the idea of you walking out there, all soft and sweet and not a complete fucking psycho like him, probably didn’t sit right with him.

Which is why he leaned back in his chair, sucking his teeth.

“Fine.” he muttered. “Then I’m coming with you.”

You blinked.

Then laughed.

Actually laughed.

“The fuck is so funny?” he snapped.

You shook your head, still grinning. “You can barely fucking walk, Niragi.”

He bristled. “The fuck I can’t.”

You tilted your head. “Oh, yeah? Stand up.”

His eyes narrowed.

Chishiya actually smirked, sipping his tea. “This will be fun.”

Niragi ignored him. Instead, he grumbled, planted his hands on the table, and pushed himself up—only to sway immediately.

Yeah. That’s what you thought.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Go on.”

He glared. “I just need a second.”

“Uh-huh.”

Chishiya chuckled.

“You two are both fucking awful.” Niragi muttered, lowering himself back into the chair.

You smiled. Sweet. Almost mocking. “But I’m right.”

He rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue.

You exhaled, adjusting your bag. “I won’t be long.”

Niragi muttered something under his breath, and you almost asked what—but you let it go.

Instead, you turned to Chishiya. He was still watching. Quiet. Unreadable. Like he was picking you apart in his head.

You stared back. After a moment, you spoke.

“You gonna be okay here?”

He blinked once. “I should be asking you that.”

You smirked. “You don’t have to.”

His eyes glittered.

Just a little.

He didn’t say anything else.

You turned back to Niragi. “Try not to kill each other before I get back.”

“No promises.” Niragi muttered.

You sighed. Yeah, you figured.

Then, without another word, you grabbed your coat, pushed open the door, and stepped out, leaving them alone.

And you knew exactly what you were doing.

~

You had fully prepared yourself for the worst when you returned.

Maybe bloodstains on your fancy-ass couch. Maybe the kitchen completely destroyed. Maybe—just maybe—one of them lying dead in the hallway while the other stood over him. But, to your genuine surprise, the house was still standing.

And even more surprising?

So were both of them.

Chishiya was sitting at the kitchen counter, flipping through a book he absolutely did not own before today.

And Niragi—who you fully expected to have done something violent or reckless in your absence—was sprawled out on the couch, one arm hanging over the side, his whole body screaming bored as hell but refusing to admit he waited for you to come back.

They were separated, obviously.

Like two kids on a road trip who couldn’t sit next to each other without starting a war.

But they were here.

Waiting.

Which meant they had not murdered each other.

Wow. Okay. Good.

You stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind you. “Huh. You didn’t destroy the place.”

Chishiya didn’t look up from his book. “Disappointed?”

You snorted. “Surprised.”

Niragi let out a loud, exaggerated sigh.

“Tch. Not my fault.” he muttered. “There was nothing to fucking do.”

You shrugged, setting your bag down on the table. “Well, good news.”

You started unpacking, pulling out a few cans of food, some extra bandages, a couple of bottles of water and a small, cute plushie. You placed it right on the coffee table, right between the two of them.

Silence.

Niragi squinted at it. “What the fuck is that?”

You blinked at him, deadpan. “A bear.”

He continued staring. Like he couldn’t process the fact that, after scavenging for supplies in an almost post-apocalyptic nightmare world, you had come back with a tiny stuffed bear.

Chishiya just hummed. “Interesting choice.”

You grinned. “I thought it was cute.”

Niragi made a face. “What, you gonna start collecting those now?”

“Maybe.” you mused, organizing the supplies. “Maybe I’ll decorate the place.”

Chishiya smirked. “Would be an improvement.”

Niragi snorted.

You gasped. “Excuse me?”

Chishiya didn’t even look up. “I’m just saying, the place is a little sterile.”

“Sterile?”

“You know. Too clean. Too perfect.”

Niragi stretched, cracking his neck. “Yeah, like a rich kid’s hideout.”

You huffed. “I like my place nice.”

Chishiya turned a page. “Mm. Suspicious.”

You rolled your eyes, finally plopping down onto the chair across from Niragi.

“Anyway.” you sighed. “I got supplies. Food. Water. Bandages.”

Niragi snatched a bottle off the table. “Tch. Took you long enough.”

You snorted. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you have somewhere to be?”

He smirked, taking a sip. “Nah. Just missed you, babe.”

You smiled. “Aww, how sweet.”

Niragi’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You could make it up to me, you know.”

“Oh? And how would I do that?”

He leaned forward, voice dropping. Suggestive. “Ever heard of a stress reliever?”

Chishiya closed his book. Loudly.

You placed your elbow on the table, chin in your palm, and matched Niragi’s energy effortlessly.

“Hm.” you mused, tilting your head. “I have. You should try one.”

Chishiya snorted.

Niragi blinked. Then laughed. Loud. Sharp. Fucking amused.

You leaned back, stretching your arms. “Anyway. You two can fight over the bedrooms again or sleep out here, I don’t care.”

Niragi scoffed. “Tch. Like I’d share a room with this asshole.”

Chishiya smirked. “I wouldn’t subject you to my presence.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

You liked them.

“So, Chishiya.” Niragi drawled, stretching his legs out. “Tell me something.”

Chishiya did not look up. Did not react. Which only fueled Niragi’s need to annoy him.

“If you’re such a genius,” Niragi continued. “how the fuck did you end up half-dead in a ditch, huh?”

Chishiya finally blinked. Slowly. Then sighed.

“Same way you did.” he murmured, flipping through the book again. “By not giving a shit.”

Niragi grinned.

“Oh, no, see, I wasn’t the one who thought I was better than everyone.” he said mockingly. “I wasn’t the one who thought I was too smart to get my ass kicked.”

Chishiya hummed. “No, you were just too dumb to avoid it.”

Niragi laughed. Sharp, amused, but not fucking friendly.

“Cute.” he smirked. “For someone who thinks he’s so fucking smart, you really do make a lot of mistakes.”

Chishiya finally looked up. “And for someone who acts like he’s the biggest in the world you sure ended up in the same situation as me.”

Niragi’s grin twitched.

Your head hit the back of the chair.

Here we go.

Because of course Niragi wasn’t going to let that go. “You wanna repeat that, rat?”

Chishiya tilted his head. “Oh? Are your ears failing, too?”

Niragi sat up.

Even injured, even weak, even not at full strength, he still looked like he was one second away from throwing hands.

“You little—”

“No.”

Your voice cut through the air like a knife.

Both of them froze.

Not because you were loud. Not because you yelled.

But because you didn’t.

You were calm.

Too calm.

And that? That was scarier.

“If you two want to keep fighting,” you said, voice light, but firm. “then you can take your asses out of here.”

Silence.

You crossed your arms.

“You can either calm the fuck down,” you continued, sweet, but threatening. “or you can leave. I don’t care which.”

You watched them.

And you knew.

This was the moment.

If they argued—if they scoffed, if they fought back—then that was it.

They were leaving.

They’d be gone.

But if they stayed quiet—if they didn’t say a word—that was their answer.

That was them choosing to stay.

And for people like them? For people who never admitted they needed anyone, who never relied on anybody but themselves, this was big.

Chishiya sighed.

He looked back down at his book.

Didn’t say anything.

Didn’t argue.

Didn’t leave.

Niragi clicked his tongue, leaned back on the couch, and mumbled, “Tch. Whatever.”

Didn’t say anything else.

Didn’t leave.

They were staying.

[putalabelonit]

Fics based on a theme:

Stiles in a Contractual Relationship

••••••

—Derek/Stiles—

"Tax Evasion" (E) by standinginanicedress | 139,924 | “Here’s what I want,” Stiles starts, and Scott is already nodding along. “…I want a dude who’s going to take me out on dates. I like dinner and ice cream and all that. And I want him to meet my dad in, like, a sweater vest and khakis and shake his hand and talk about sports with the guy. And I want him to have a car and an apartment – not like, nice ones? But ones, you know? He’s got a dog, too. He drives me around and buys me stuff and is nice to my dad and my friends but then, like,” he squeezes the basketball extra hard and is sure he feels some air being let out of it, “…he ties me up sometimes, too. Is that too much to ask for? Am I reaching for the stars?”

"Don’t Take the Money" (E) by standinginanicedress | 53,469 | “Just so long as I don’t go falling in love with you, you don’t give a shit,” Derek clarifies. “Yeah. Pretty much.” “What if you go and fall in love with me?” “Ha ha,” Stiles shakes his head. “I don’t do shit like that. Alphas are disposable and they’re all just alike, when you strip them down to their parts.”

"For Your Eyes Only" (E) by standinginanicedress | 113,297 | “Are you a fucking psycho? Be honest. Are you sick in the fucking head?” Stiles asks. “No,” Derek says. “I’m a rich guy who likes twinks.” “Uh huh,” he doesn’t sound convinced. “You have twenty thousand dollars just lying around waiting to be spent on having cam sex with me?” “I do,” he shrugs. “And then some.” Silence. “You’re rich?” “Yes. I have money. I have an important job. That’s not what we’re talking about. Are you in or out?”

"One life stand" (E) by Vendelin | 84,278 | Stiles is used to selling himself to make ends meet. But it's getting harder to keep those ends meeting, and there's only so much of Stiles to go around. Until a too-fancy car shows up in his neighborhood, and he meets Derek Hale.

"Werewolf-Friendly" 🔒 (E) by badwolfbadwolf | 27,228 | Derek is a junior in college, never could get the hang of social interaction, and is, you know, a werewolf. A werewolf and a virgin. And it isn’t like anyone is banging down his door to hop on his werewolf dick, save for the few pervs who acted like he was some kind of exotic toy to be played with and experienced. So, when he sees Stiles' ad on Hot Men 4 Rent, Derek is... interested.

"Not What I Ordered" 🔒 (E) by eeyore9990 | 2,921 | Derek orders himself a bottom from a high-class escort service. What he gets is…Stiles.

"Unwind" 🔒 (E) by coffeeinallcaps | 15,047 | 'Hope you enjoy your present,' the text from Erica says. 'Payment’s taken care of. You can thank me tomorrow.'

"Disposition" (E) by Tulikettu | 56,104 | Stiles has an itch. A kinky, kinda dirty itch he needs to scratch. So why not go on the Internet and look for a complete stranger to scratch it? Derek needs a partner for his rut. What a coincidence.

"Oblivion for Two" (E) by publicdecency | 210,279 | “I’ll pay you to stop going around with other werewolves.” Stiles pushes Derek’s hand off of him, and Derek lets him. Stiles sits up. Derek sits up. They stare at one another. Stiles tries to laser through right to his dumb idiot fucking brain. “What did you just say?”

"A Mating Moon" (E) by unpossible | 37,353 | “Hey, Scott, so, I uh, there’s this amazingly hot guy and I’m uh, gonna spend the weekend with him but, you know, just to be careful, I’m sending you his picture, so if by some terrible chance my bloated corpse shows up sometime Monday, just, y’know pass this along to the authorities.” He pauses. “Uh. Kidding?” and then hangs up with a rush of air. “That is the worst voicemail in the history of voicemails,” Derek says.

"Millstone" (E) by eleanor_lavish | 31,368 | Derek waits until the door is shut behind him before he turns around. He holds out his hand, plants his ‘if you’re not weird about it, I won’t be’ smile on his face and says, “Nice to meet you, Stiles. I’m Michael. What kind of a good time are you looking for tonight?”

"Don't Worry Baby" (E) by kalpurna | 20,276 | "You know you're allowed to ask for vanilla sex, right?" he says, afterwards. "We can do whatever you want. That's kind of the point." Derek doesn't respond.

"but monsters are always hungry, darling" (E) by Rena | 7,071 | "I just...I just want someone to fuck me,” he blurts out, flailing his hands around. “I mean, like, really fuck me. Not any of this wishy-washy stuff, but someone with strength and stamina who’ll actually, honestly, fuck me, hold me down and fuck me so hard I can still feel it the next day.” “So, essentially, you want a werewolf,” Lydia deduces.

"Three Phone Calls" 🔒 (M) by pandabomb | 15,676 | Scott and Stiles live in a shitty apartment in NYC, Lydia is still queenly, and Derek is a clueless rich guy who mistakes Stiles for a hooker.

"Sell Your Body to the Night" (E) by Dira Sudis | 121,553 | "No," Derek repeated impatiently. "I'm not a cop. I'm someone who wants to exchange my money for your sexual services. I was told you were in that line of work." "I, uh, yeah, sorry," Stiles said. He glanced around again and then up--the full moon was almost directly overhead. Just one of those nights, maybe. "Yeah, I am. I do that."

"The Civilian" 🔒 (E) by bloodwrites | 15,279 | Stiles started hustling by accident. He likes the way it makes him feel too much to stop. Even the risk involved with selling himself in dark, dirty alleys doesn't stop him from doing it again and again. Not every night, sometimes not even every week, but he always goes back, looking for more of what he needs.

"A Whole Strip of Condoms" 🔒 (E) by eeyore9990 | 20,227 | Stiles feels the crushing weight of his family's debt; Derek has piles of money. Derek needs to get laid; Stiles is a willing and eager virgin. It's a match made in... well. Beacon Hills. Eesh.

"gave your smile to me" (T) by Sarageek16 | 4,784 | In which Stiles is a hooker (but not really), Derek wants to feed his skinny little body, and there is soup. Not necessarily in that order.

"Men of Taste" (E) by dizzzylu | 3,737 | It starts with a leather portfolio; a gift from Peter the day Derek is promoted to junior partner. He flips through the last few pages of cards, taking his time. Among them are several swanky nightclubs, a discreet gentlemen's club, a selection of the city's more opulent fetish clubs, as well as New York's most elite, and secretive, escort agency.

"Gravity's Got Nothing on You" (E) by zosofi | 83,979 | “Three weeks,” Derek says. “Still don’t want to,” Stiles says. “I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. “How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.” “My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”

—Stiles/Peter—

"A Delicate Beast" (E) by anonymous | 7,536 | Stiles flicks his eyes to Peter and has to almost instantly drag them away again in fear. This man wants to assault me.

"one kiss (you burn)" (E) by anonymous | 1,953 | Stiles just wants to pop his cherry.

"Loan Wolves" (E) by veterization | 117,313 | At seventeen, Stiles' mother dies, and suddenly, with bills piling up, Stiles and his father are in financial straits. Enter Peter Hale, the loan shark.

"Conduit" 🔒 (E) by DarkIsRising | 52,428 | A cool 10k to spend a weekend with some rich guy getting plowed in his familial estate during some hoity-toity engagement party for Rich Guy’s niece, with an extra 2k on offer if he can make his ex-husband visibly seethe with jealousy.

"A Spoonful of Sugar" (E) by Twisted_Mind | 31,133 | He blames Lydia. He would never have even considered this if she hadn't mentioned it like it was legit. But short of falling down the rabbit hole of student debt, he doesn't have a whole lot of options. So, whatever, he can try the sugar baby thing. No one has to know.

••••••

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

It's the Stripes, Man

Prompt Day 7: Candy Cane | Word Count: 909 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Mild Sexual Innuendo | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Bantering Their Way Into Each Other's Hearts, Dinguses²

"You look like a candy cane."

Steve turns his head, looking over at Eddie.

"I look like - a what?" Steve asks, even if he heard Eddie just fine the first time. He just wants to hear him say it again to his face.

"A candy cane," Eddie repeats, and Steve shouldn't have expected anything else. "Or Where's Waldo."

"Waldo, who?"

Eddie rolls his eyes, throwing up his hands.

"It's a book, Harrington. Henderson had it. You find the guy…nevermind," Eddie says, "It's the stripes, man."

Steve looks down at the chunky, red and white striped sweater that he stole from Robin's closet. It doesn't look like a candy cane, but it might be a women's sweater. That he isn't exactly sure about.

Doesn't matter.

It's warm, he looks good in it, and he likes it. That's all that counts.

Eddie's just being annoying.

"Fine, I'm a candy cane. Give me a lick," Steve banters, and turns back to the tree that he's trying to string with lights.

Eddie makes a spluttering, coughing, hacking noise that makes Steve turn back around, "You dying again, or what?"

"Nope. Nope, I'm good," Eddie says, his cheeks tinged with pink, like the coughing really took it out of him.

"Good. I don't have time to save you again today. Help me string these lights," Steve demands and Eddie does move towards the tree to help him.

They can work together in unison now. Their uneasy alliance in the Upside Down has turned into a very easy friendship topside. Steve never could have predicted it, but he truly likes having Eddie Munson around.

They got the tree decorated, right down to the candy canes that Eddie kept fidgeting with, and now Steve's standing at the sink, doing dishes, when he hears Eddie stomp into the room. Eddie's never walked quietly a day that Steve's known him, which means he can't sneak up on anyone.

Especially not Steve.

Steve's bent over, scrubbing a plate, and he's about to say, "Yes?" in a mocking tone, but instead he drops the slick dish from his wet hands, sending it skittering all around the sink, when he feels Eddie's tongue swipe across the back of his neck.

It takes him a second to process, and another to confirm that's what actually happened.

"Jesus Christ! Did you lick me?"

"You told me to!" Eddie accuses, "And then I just had to do it. You put it in my brain! This is on you, Harrington!"

Steve is absolutely certain he didn't suggest Eddie lick the back of his neck like a big weirdo.

"When on earth did I tell you to do that?" Steve asks, hands finding his hips as he looks at Eddie, annoyed.

"You said, lick me then," Eddie stresses, and Steve tries to play back the information that he has rattling around in his brain to see if he actually said that or not. He's sure it's possible, it does sound like him, even if he doesn't remember saying it.

If he did, it was nothing. Definitely not an invitation for Eddie to actually lick him.

"Are you sure I said that?" Steve asks, staring him down.

Eddie wilts, just a little, and Steve softens the bitchy out of his face. He doesn't actually care that Eddie licked him. Whatever. He's a weird dude. And they've kind of got a weirdly almost sexually charged friendship going on, even Steve can feel it. They've never acted on it, but it's there, just under the surface.

And maybe this was an impulse built off that, one that Eddie just couldn't shake.

So, fine.

He licked him.

It doesn't have to mean anything.

Steve picks back up the plate he had been washing before it rudely slipped from his grasp and bounced all around the sink.

"Well, is it out of your system now?" Steve asks and Eddie tilts his head back and laughs.

"Fuck you, Harrington," Eddie answers, picking up the hand towel to dry the dish that Steve has in his hands. 

"Now, now. Don't be sarcastic. You never know when someone will take what you say seriously," Steve banters back. 

Eddie stops, and then throws his head back, laughing.

"Well, I mean, if you wanna hold me to it," Eddie says.

Steve giggles, "You're too much."

He hands the now clean plate to Eddie, and they keep washing and drying together until the sink is totally empty.

And now, just like Eddie had, Steve has a one-track mind over a joke.

A throwaway bit of ribbing.

But, he definitely gets it now. 

Steve turns and leans against the counter, crossing his legs at the ankle, catching Eddie's eyes, then asking, "So. About the fucking. We gonna?"

Eddie's eyes go wide, rounder and bigger than they usually are, and Steve laughs. He's serious, or not. Whatever Eddie wants, he's game. 

Eddie takes a step closer, grazing the shoulder of Steve's stolen sweater with his fingertips, and Steve smiles. Eddie's so fucking weird, but in the best way possible. He's glad their paths crossed. It's been fun. Well. Spring Break wasn't fun. But the time after that sure has been. Eddie's interesting, and never predictable.

"You ever fucked a man, Harrington?" Eddie asks, those big eyes holding Steve's stare and not letting go.

Steve shakes his head, "No. First time for everything, I guess."

Eddie laughs, and presses closer, "And you say I'm the one that's too much."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 🍬

Fun fact: Where's Waldo seems to have first came out in September of 1987. I'm not 100% sure it was released at the same time as Where's Wally? in the UK, but I didn't see anything that contradicted that. So, I'm saying this was probably Christmas of '87.

[manwritingtales]

Fuck! Wrong Body!

I can only jump bodies every few years and this fuckin' man had to jump to my eye line! I was ready to jump, to swap bodies with this hot athletic dude I've been watching for several weeks. I've got it all planned out. I'd switch bodies with him, take his money and live the same as I'd usually done; fucking and getting fucked and making sure this body is shown to the world. But goddammit, when I was finally ready to swap, I didn't waste one second and immediately tracked this dude. I took a deep breath and staring intensely at him, concentrating on him and only him. Then an old man passed by. It was instantaneous. I felt my spirit leave this vessel I'd been inhabiting and move to the older man. From behind a pillar, I suddenly found myself standing in the middle of a street, strange sensations coming over me as this body's senses kicked in.

I was stuck shocked for a moment, and behind the pillar a man was lying on the ground slowly waking up. I stared at the body I wanted to switch to. "You need something?" he said. I stare at his handsome face—the face I could've be as for several years.

"I—" my voice was much deeper. I suddenly felt the weight of this body. His blue polo shirt clung to his body. It was obviously a few sizes too small. I stare at my new gut. The realization finally dawned on me. "Fuck!"

People look in my direction, but I'm too upset to notice. "Goddammit! Why the fuck were you here?!" My voice was much deeper and older than my old body. I stare at his arms, then touch his face. Bearded. I touch his belly.

"Ugh," I groan, this weight very unfamiliar to me. I've mostly switched to athletes, those muscular jock types, so this was extremely different to what I'm used to. Soft music played in his ears and I throw the air pods away in frustration.

"Uhh." The athletic dude looked at me like I was crazy and left. I stare with a sigh as I see his body disappearing into the crowd. That could've been my body.

"Honey? What's wrong?" I hear a female voice from behind me say. I turn around. A woman, in her fifties, maybe. She's looking at me with deep concern. "What's wrong, honey? Are you feeling alright?"

I open my mouth, then close it shut. Without a word, I walk away from her quickly. I hear her echoes as I make my way deeper through the streets.

I run in this heavy, slow body. Everything feels jarring. When switching bodies, every element of your being needs time to reassess. The memories in the brain come in fragments, where it usually takes weeks to months to learn it all, but the thing that immediately makes it clear that you're in another body is the sensation. The physicality of it. For muscle jocks, everything is leaner, tighter, and easier. It's easy to bend his body, to jump, hell, it's easy to breathe. But this body is almost the exact opposite. His shirt is constricting his body. I'm still not sure why he decided to wear something a few sizes too small. His beard scratches his face. His belt cling to his body, his gut held. I feel so heavy and tired, or at least not as energetic as my past body used to be.

I take out his phone and open the camera.

I sigh. I suppose this beard is pretty cool. But I'm really not okay with the idea of being stuck in this body for a few years. He and his wife probably got kids, who'd come looking for him. That won't be a problem, but I tried not to switch bodies with men that had too many attachments. I walk through a random street, trying to get used to the way his body moves. No one's paying me any mind. It kind of feels nice, for a change. One time I switched with this dude who modelled, and the entire time I felt everyone's eyes on my body. But no one's paying me any attention now. I'm just another father vacationing with his family.

"Dario." The name comes out of this new body all of a sudden. "My name is Dario," I mutter in his voice. The details feel so hazy, as my new and old memories are still figuring out space. My name is Dario. I have a wife and two kids, one adult and one in college. I dig deep into his mind for more information about this man. Nothing yet but those key details.

I stop in a nearby café to focus, trying to gather out any of his old life. Not that it's gonna be much use, since I already have a plan to do, but it's always important to make sure that the body you're inhabiting won't bring any problems. I try to imagine myself not as me—but as Dario, a husband and a father of two. I make his body smile.

I'm sure anyone who knows Dario well can see something off. That the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. That's naturally how it goes at first. If you plan on keeping this body's life and family, be sure to blend in with all his quirks and subtle movements.

I stare at his hairy arms, patting his belly and stroking the bulge in his trousers. I sigh. I just can't help think of the body I was supposed to switch to. This athletic dude with giant biceps and strong legs. I'd look at his body, and watch myself stroking his muscular chest, and muscular arms, talking dirty as I smelled his musk, then I'd...

I feel this body stiffen. I feel his cock harden and I give it a stroke, involuntarily letting out a moan (which earned several glances from people). Huh. This cock is... not bad at all, actually. It's average in size, but—I move his body in a more comfortable position, making sure to hide below the table—it's... thick as a beer can. "Alright," I mutter, enjoying the warmth of his thick cock permeating from his trousers. There's some silver lining after all.

---

It's been a few months in this body. I'm still not completely sure if I like it. After the day I switched with him, I kept my current plan and cut off communication with this body's old life. I'm sure his family must be devastated, but I'll take good care of this body. He is much hairier than the usual ones I'd switch to, much older, definitely, but he's unexpectedly much more virile than I thought. He could last almost as long as those muscle jock dudes I've switched to.

And the attention! It's even different now. One walk at a bar and I still get a lot of glances, now usually from bears and twinks, (and I was much more into bodybuilders and jock types) but I don't hate it after all. His first time getting fucked was rough, and his ass was sore for a while, but I enjoyed watching this body getting plowed by a hairy bear who insisted on calling me daddy.

Memories of this body's life continue to flood, and it felt bad leaving his tenured professor job without a trace, but I'd say I'm making more use of this body by fucking and getting fucked as much as I can.

[munsonkitten]

It starts small.

Steve buys Eddie a handful of cassettes after the whole Upside Down business. Drops them unceremoniously in Eddie’s lap while Eddie’s laid up in the hospital. Eddie pulls them all out of the plastic bag and lays them out in his lap while Steve stands a few feet away, arms crossed protectively over his torn up middle.

“I got things on your vest,” Steve says as Eddie takes in the titles. “I figured everything in your room’s probably gone now, but I still have your vest, and I’ll — I’ll give it back. When you get out of here. It’s safe in my room. But, just — yeah, the tapes are things you have on it.”

Dio’s The Last in Line, Motorhead’s Ace of Spades, Metallica’s Ride the Lightning, Judas Priest’s Screaming for Vengeance, and WASP’s self-titled album.

“I almost bought you more, but I wasn’t sure what else, and I don’t know much about your music, so I just got those. I was going to bring you my Walkman, but I couldn’t find it,” Steve says. “I think one of the kids borrowed it and never gave it back, actually.”

Eddie still hasn’t said anything yet. He’s still taking in the gift in his lap, can’t even comprehend that Steve wanted to give him more.

“Uh,” Eddie says, trying to get his brain working again. “Yeah. Man. Fuck, dude. Thanks. Seriously. Don’t worry about the Walkman, really. This is nice, Harrington.”

“Yeah, no problem, Munson,” Steve says softly. He goes and sits in one of the chairs in Eddie’s hospital room, and stays there until the kids come running from Max’s overcrowded room to ask for a ride home.

Eddie lays there with his tapes spread out over his lap, and he finds himself smiling down at them. He doesn’t even have anything to listen to them on, but he thinks it might be the most thoughtful gift he’s ever gotten from anyone other than Wayne.

It’s nice, he thinks, that he might be becoming friends with Steve Harrington. It’s nice, he thinks, that even when they’re no longer fighting for their lives, Steve might want to stick around.

He didn’t expect that.

Eddie’s in the hospital for two weeks, and Steve stops by almost every day. He sits for a while, sometimes they talk, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes Eddie wakes up and sees Steve sleeping in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs. He doesn’t wake him, just smiles to himself because Steve’s tired, but he doesn’t want Eddie to be alone.

It’s been a while since Eddie’s had a friend the same age as him. Jeff and Grant are both two years younger than him, Gareth is four years, and Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair are all five or six years younger. He has friends, but Steve feels different, just a few months younger but already graduated. In a way, it makes Eddie feel younger, still being in high school and all.

He doesn’t really think that should matter, but it kind of does. All his younger friends look up to him, he’s always the one making plans and making sure everyone sticks to them, he’s the one in charge of it all — the older one. But when Steve’s around — Steve, with his real job, and high school diploma, and his nice car, and the brood of children he chases after, Steve, who’s an adult in all the ways Eddie himself feels like he’s not — Eddie feels like he can sit back and let someone else do all of that.

When Steve’s around, it feels like he has someone to care for him and look out for him the way he’s done for the others.

It starts to ease everything he’s carried for so long.

* * *

The next time Steve buys something for Eddie, it’s even smaller.

In fact, it’s so small that Eddie doesn’t even notice it at first because Steve was actually really sneaky about it. Eddie would almost find it cute, if he were allowed to think about Steve that way. He’s not, to be clear. It goes against his Munson Doctrine to have crushes on the jocks, rich kids, and straight boys, of which Steve is all three, but if he wasn’t, then yeah, Eddie would find it cute that Steve is sneaking him tiny gifts when he isn’t looking.

There’s a keychain on his van keys that he certainly didn’t get for himself. He notices it one day during a get together at Harrington’s house. Eddie just got out of the hospital a few days ago, and everyone insisted on throwing a party. Now kids are running around Steve’s backyard, yelling and hollering and trying not to fall in the freezing cold pool. It’s still too early in the spring to swim.

Even Max, barely out of the hospital herself, is being wheeled around in her wheelchair by nothing more than El’s mind powers.

It’s kind of fucking insane, to be honest.

But Eddie needs to go out to his car to get his pain meds because he’s really starting to feel the length of the day in his aching joints and healing wounds, so he grabs his keys off Steve’s counter where he left them, and that’s when he sees it.

A tiny metal bat dangling from his keys.

He knows it was Steve because Steve was the only one in the house when he got here and set his stuff down in the kitchen, and no one else has gone inside since Eddie found his way to the backyard, so of course it was Steve.

Eddie doesn’t mention it, just smiles to himself and runs his fingers over the pointed wings.

He sees Steve looking at him when he comes back into the kitchen. Eddie raises his hand and shakes his pill bottle at him, and without another word, Steve goes to the cupboard to get a glass that he fills with water.

Eddie sets his keys back down on the kitchen counter as Steve slides the glass of water over to him. Steve nods at the keys, and Eddie grins at him.

“Thank you,” Eddie says.

“I have a matching one,” Steve says, turning back toward the sink to look out the window above it. “Just, you know, because…”

He gestures at his torso, and then over at Eddie, and Eddie nods. He gets it.

It makes him feel a little bit closer to Steve. Even if Eddie isn’t allowed to crush on him, he’s happy to have someone who gets him. Who understands what he went through, and feels similar pain.

It’s like Steve’s saying You’re with me now, we’re connected, and you’re not getting rid of me.

Read on AO3

[shysuccubusstuff]

Bodyguard! Mr. Scarlatella:

Content: Yandere! Mr. Scarlatella but he is actually human + assassin + farmer! scarlatella; non proof-reading; female anatomy + dubcon/noncon + kidnapping + usage of substances (once for the kidnapping) + mindbreak + lovesick! Mr. Scarlatella; cunnilingus + breeding kink + baby trapping + possessive! dom + overstimulation + orgasm denial + creampie + impregnation + trophy wife! reader (kind of?)

Summary: You never imagined that the guy that was about to end your father's and your life would end up falling head over feels for you, but hey, at least you're alive, right?...

Word count: 4240 words.

Note: I just hate how my brain decides to get dry af as soon as I end with my exams/essays... btw, Merry Christmas to everyone who reads this!! I'm thinking about making a kind of pt. 2 but with Mr. Crawling, let me know if you would want to read it!! It's weird to go back to the more dark stuff when I had started to write less heavy stuff... I feel I may have gotten a bit too creative for his personality, so let me know!!

Note 2: Let me know if any content tag is missing-- I wrote this over a whole week so I may have forgotten some...

You were the daughter of one of the wealthiest so it was only natural for you to live under the feeling of being targeted by someone, even since you were a child. So when your father presented a new bodyguard for you, it was nothing out of the ordinary, just some new guy who would probably quit by the month (at most). So he arrived, long black hair falling in a cascade and deep purplish pupils that pierced you through his polarised glasses.

"Dear, this is the new bodyguard, I hope you know how to behave yourself, I don't want to keep on complaining to that damn company, they keep saying it's your fault, but it's impossible for it to be solely your fault, I mean, it's been over 10 bodyguards in less than two months... Anyways, I have to leave, Daddy has some work to do." With that, your father left, his expensive cologne lingering in the air as he slammed the door, the new bodyguard still on the entrance of your room, a slightly unsettling smile creeping on his lips as he stood there.

"So you won't even introduce yourself? Seriously, the quality of that damn company is so freaking low... Can't believe they didn't even teach you how to introduce yourself." The man bowed a bit, taking a small notebook and giving it to you. "What the...? So you're saying that you're still learning the language and don't want to mess up? Ugh, ok, whatever. What's your name?" The man with crimson hair refused to speak, stating that he had not received a proper code name yet. "Seriously? Can't even call your name cause they didn't gave it to you, well that's just perfect. Don't bother me, just stand outside or whatever, as if I care." With those last words, the man left, finally leaving you alone in your room. "What the heck is wrong with that dude? I'm gonna complain to that fucking company of security, how am I supposed to trust him when I don't even know his name..."

As time went on, you were slowly able to get to know him, getting to know that he was actually coming from Japan because of some "old acquaintance" he knew since many years ago, that he loved magic tricks and that he was actually quite... cute. It hurt to even think it, but it was true, he was a cute man, always behind you when you allowed him, always running around you with your delicious drink ready and your purse hanging off his shoulder. God, he even learnt how to do your nails, makeup and hair in case you wanted to get it done on the days you were just too lazy to get out of the house... He was even there that night.

You had waken up by around three in the morning, making your way to your door so you could get something to eat in the kitchen, soon noticing that Scarlatella (as you liked to call him in a kind of playful way because of his hair colour) was nowhere to be seen, but hey, he was human as well, maybe he just went to the bathroom or something like that. As you were about to arrive to the kitchen, you noticed that the mansion was a bit too quiet, one would even say that it would have been possible to listen to a pin dropping to the marble ground. Unsettled, you quickly made your way to your father's bedroom, but you soon found out that the bed was completely cold. Now alarmed, you run to his studio, the sound of your feet resonating all over the empty corridor as you forced the door open, soon finding a terrible scene.

It was your father, well, what used to be your father, as his body was already turning cold, his skin turning slightly blue with clear signs of choking. Just as you were about to scream, your vocal cords were unable to produce a sound, your lungs being completely filled with a strange air that made you gasp for hair before you started to feel lightheaded. As you felt your conscience drift, you silently cursed that stupid company and that useless yet slightly charming man.

By the time you woke up, you soon noticed that your whole body was intact, expect for slight marks of rope on your wrists. As soon as you recovered a bit, you took a deep breath, deciding to try and scream to the top of your lungs in case someone could hear you.

"Hey! Someone there? Some crazy jackass has kidnapped me and---!" Suddenly, the heave iron door was opened, a familiar face entering the room.

"Good morning, dearest. I'm so glad you were finally able to open your eyes, you see, it was a bit difficult to get the amount of dose correctly, as I have never tried to keep someone as tiny and beautiful as yourself." Your old bodyguard entered, the heavy door closing behind him as he brought a tray on one of his hands. "Here, I brought you a few things I know you like." You looked at the delicious-looking food, your mouth watering as you saw all your favourite desserts, together with a bunch of your most beloved fruits. Despite the confusion, you tried to keep it together, looking to the other side and refusing to do what he asked. "Dearest, you've been asleep for over t--" Before he could end his sentence, you had already hit the tray with one of your legs, sending the appetizing food.

"Why the fuck are you here? You failed protecting me-- Fuck, you left my father to die, you're lucky I'm tied here cause I would crush your fucking skull with my---" The crimson-haired man got closer, dangerously close, in fact, his warm breath hitting against your face.

"Oh dear, I always knew you had quite the filthy mouth, but you must have been quite shocked to see that pig like that... I understand, I would never stop loving you for something trivial like that... Nor for anything, to be fair." His cold hands touched your face, the callouses in his hands making you frown even more than before.

"Listen fucker---." The man covered your mouth with his much larger hand, the shivers resulted from the cold shifting into goosebumps from the fear.

"Shh, dear. I understand, no need to explain it to me. I will make sure to re-educate you so you can go back to your natural self, that pig tricked your poor mind, but I will be able to fix it for you, see? I’m being such a good man for you, after all, I was supposed to kill you, but I even decided to turn my back to my client and let you live, I even avoided someone to think that you were alive. It was a bit of a hassle, but hey, I would do everything for you, dear.” The man finally got away from your face, taking the tray that had fallen to the ground because of you, together with the food that had been smashed to the ground. “It’s ok, dear. I understand this will take some time, luckily, I have all the time in the world, you just need some… hard love. I’m sure you will start to appreciate my company and care soon enough.” With that, the man smiled one last time to you, leaving the room with the sound of the heavy iron door closing, leaving you in the middle of the dark.

Since that moment, your slow torture started. The man left you in the dark for who knows how long, covering your eyes with a soft cloth, only taking out when he was around so he could start to… kind of associate him with the light, you supposed. He kept bringing you scrumptious plates, from your favourite foods to exotic ones. Of course, that was until the… maybe over tenth time you had throw his tray to the ground. That time, he simply took the tray, taking once again all the food on the floor and leaving in complete silence. The next time you was him was after… maybe one whole day? Your stomach kept rumbling, and what began as anger quickly became desperation, then crying and finally crying while screaming.

By around two months, your mind and body had become completely accustomed to his timetable and behaviour, letting him pet you as you ate what he brought, letting his hands clean your whole body and hair, not even complaining when you felt his hands drift towards your more private parts. Scarlatella looked extremely content with his work, rewarding you with constant praises and even a “pretty” collar for you. Despite it was a clear symbol of your turn into a kind of pet, the collar was beautiful, the gold glistening under the cold light as the beautiful charm with the form of a heart made a small noise of a bell each time you moved.

“Do you like it? I wanted something to congratulate you, after all, you have finally graduated. You are now back to your natural self.” You nodded, letting your head fall on his lap as he kept petting you. “I was thinking about giving you whatever you want, you can just ask.” He waited patiently until you were able to think about something other than the warmth that was coming from his body.

“…Freedom. I want to leave this room, please.” His eyes widened a bit, perhaps surprised that you were still able to think about your freedom.

“Dear, I know this can get suffocating, but you must stay here, it’s for your sa—”

“Please! I can feel my mind… slipping. This is getting worse each day, I… I don’t want do it, but the constant darkness is making me… think about… Just give me a bigger place, I don’t need something as fancy as my house, just something bigger than this room.” Scarlatella looked at you with a puzzled expression, his hand still massaging your scalp as he thought. Finally, he answered, not before letting a deep sigh.

“I suppose that’s fine. I can think of a story to explain your sudden appearance. Give me a few days so I can get everything ready, yeah? Promise I will do it.” As soon as he said that, he got up from the sofa that was in the room, quickly leaving the place before you were able to beg him to keep his promise.

Contrary to what you believed, Scarlatella kept his promise, coming back with a small suitcase and some clothes for you to change yourself, taking your hand as he made you walk with your eyes covered by that well-known cloth. When you were finally told to take it off, you were in the middle of a beautiful flower field. All the flowers were spider lilies, making it seem as if it was some kind of blood-filled battlefield.

“Do you like it, dear? I had to pay some money so they could build this house, together with planting these flowers.” He kept his grip around your wrist tight, not hurting you, but not letting go either. As he opened the door, you finally saw the house. It was a beautiful villa, completely decorated with cottage-like furniture.

“Yes, I like it.” Scarlatella smiled, a strange sheen in his gaze.

Soon, you realised why was he looking at you like that. You had fallen completely into his plan for turning you into his wife. He had created some complex story about you being his wife for over eight years, having to separate because you had been taking care of your sick father while he worked to the bone to get you as much as he could for the moment you came back to him. Everyone in the small hometown believed him, after all, he had been working there as farmer for quite some time, using it as a mere disguise so he could plan every little detail, creating a perfect façade so everyone would simply nod and smile to whatever he said. After that, your role became the one of a housewife, making you bake, cook, and clean, keeping the house warm and tidy by the time he arrived back home.

Soon, the days started to melt together, and your deep engraved hatred for him turned into a less bitter resentment. After all, he was the one that was providing for you, keeping you all warm and cozy while buying every single thing you asked him for, never doing anything that could hurt you. Slowly but surely, your mind started to reshape once again, now seeing him as a still intimidating, yet protecting figure. With that, it was finally the perfect ground for Scarlatella to create his perfect little wife.

Since that moment, Scarlatella started to become more physical with you, helping you around with all the cooking, “accidentally” rubbing his groin against your ass while he pretended to search for something on the top shelf. Not only that, but he made sure you could see him as a capable man, carrying the animals over his shoulder with ease, other times he was simply fixing stuff around the place. But the last moment he needed for your brain to start to see him as a possible partner was when you found him around town playing with the small children from the orphanage. He was surrounded by all of them, lifting them around and making them fly across the hair, his relaxed smile plastered on his face as he tried to make them control themselves as they waited their turn. Your eyes widened a bit, surprised to see him in such a… casual scene. So when he got back home, his working shirt slightly drenched because of the sudden rain that had started quite recently. The shirt was getting clung on his body, making his lean and muscular body stand out even further.

“Hey dear, how was your day? I hope it went great. Sorry I’m late, can’t believe I got caught in the middle of the rain while I was finishing some errands…” As he said that, he made his way around the kitchen, taking off his shirt and leaving it hanging on one of the chairs, surrounding your smaller frame with his arms. “I missed you so much, dear.” You tried your hardest to pretend not to notice, but of course you did, fuck, his groin was rubbing against your ass, and even then, it was clear that he was quite… gifted, down there. Still, you simply tightened the grip on the knife, biting your lips as you kept trying to focus on the food you were cooking.

Ever since that moment, you were no longer able to control yourself, always orbiting around him with your hand tightly wrapped around his arm every single time any other persons started to look way too affectionately at him. Scarlatella quickly noticed this, looking completely pleased with how he had been able to fix your precious little brain into a loving wife. In fact, he even started to pamper you even further, kissing your forehead every morning, asking you to let him shower together… Of course, you said yes.

So then, the two of you entered the bathroom, slowly undressing each other as the water started to warm up. “Love, you look so nice like this… All naked for me… I could just eat you up.” His hand drifted around your body, making your body shiver under his hands, and even if you were about to kiss him, he got away, extending his hand so he could help you get inside the bathtub. “Let me help you, dear.”

As the two of you finally entered the bathtub, he calmly traced your body with the sponge, making sure to scrub your skin without causing any type of harm. Then, he moved to your hair, taking the bottle of shampoo and scrubbing it while he hummed a little tune. Then, he focused on himself, redoing everything he had done to you. As he did that, your naked bodies kept pressing against each other, making you squirm at the slightest touch and forcing you to let small whimpers out every time you felt his lower half rub against your back. Finally, Scarlatella lost his composure as you kept pressing against him on purpose. “Dear… I have a feeling that you’ve been quite, eager to make our relationship more physical, am I right?” His eyes were now fixated on your face, making you feel even more flustered as you avoided his gaze. “Oh sweetheart, if you wanted that, I could have given it to you any time, after all, I do believe it is time we get to expand our little family.” And despite you would have normally shivered in disgust, this idea now started to charm you. So you nodded, accepting whatever he wanted you to do at that point. “Then we should get to business, let me get you ready love.” With that said, Scarlatella finally kissing your lips, his tongue entering your oral cavity as if he had been starving for a long time. “You taste so good… I could stay like this forever.” Scarlatella kept kissing you, his hands starting to glide towards your chest, starting to play with your nipples as his tongue kept exploring your mouth. “Dear… I think we should move to our bedroom; I don’t want your first time to hurt.”

“Oh, that’s fine, not like it’s my first time, you know, I did it a few times before you became my-.” Before you were able to finish your sentence, Scarlatella was already getting the two of you out of the bath, lifting you up and carrying you over to the bedroom he had been preparing for quite some time. Despite his gaze looked a bit crazed out, he let you down softly on the bed.

“It seems I was a bit too gentle with you, that was my fault. I suppose you must prefer someone meaner, treat you as if you were a little fuck toy, I suppose your brain is still not that adapted to having a husband, that’s ok, I will fix it.” With nothing left to say to you, he got on top of you, towering over your smaller body as he started to kiss your neck. “I just wish I could have arrived earlier… Get to be your first, let you make me yours…It’s a shame we had to meet under those circumstances.”  And even regardless his almost apologising words, his actions were crude, clearly showing his uncontrollable desire to make you completely his. “… I should definitely get you pregnant, make sure everyone knows who your husband is, let’s see if any other fucker tries to get with my sweet wife.” As he kept mumbling to himself, his lips started to make a trail towards your chest, moving even further down as your moans got louder. Suddenly, he got away from you for a second, taking something from the small nightstand. Still quiet, he opened the small bottle, letting the sticky liquid help him prepare your pussy for him. “Not like you will need it, apparently you were more prepared than me.”

“Come on, it’s not like we are… fuck, I don’t know, it’s just, it’s not like you are a virgin, right? There’s no need for---”

“I am.” His hands stopped for a second, his fingers a few inches away from entering you. “I’ve been investigating so I could make it as comfortable for you as possible, but that’s ok, I will make sure our next time is perfect… Let’s just use this time for letting you know how this works.” Without further due, Scarlatella started to tease your entrance, rubbing his fingertips against your entrance, while his other hand started to move towards your weak spot, starting to tease your clit as he kept kissing your neck. As the minutes went on, you started to notice a weird warmth inside your cunt, making your tears swell up in your eyes as Scarlatella kept teasing you.

“Stop— Can’t—It feels weird, like really weird, it’s not normal!” Scarlatella smiled wickedly, his eyes darkening as he saw how your pussy kept releasing your sticky fluids, with no shame, he got his face closer, starting to leave kitty licks over your clit before he began to fuck your entrance with his tongue, making you cry due to the overstimulation as he kept stopping just before you could release. This torture kept going for a couple minutes, making you clench the sheets, biting your lips as you kept mumbling barely understandable words: “Please, please… Just—Please! Fuck, please, let me cum, please, please…” Your words kept slurring, making him smile at the beautiful portrait he had been able to turn your gorgeous face into, he caressed your face with one of his hands, his lips still curved into an amused look as your face had become a mixture of snot, tears, and saliva. Suddenly, you felt Scarlatella’s arms wrap around you, lifting you from the bed and letting you lay on his lap, his unclothed erection rubbing against your clit, rocking your body back and forth as he kept taunting you.

“I just can’t believe you preferred some random person over me, love. I’ve waiting for you my whole life, I even learnt all this… tricks to get you to feel as good as possible.” All of sudden, his tip went in, barely letting you get ready as he kept pushing it inside and out, making your eyes water as he kept tormenting you for a few minutes more, his gaze becoming more and more obscure as his erection just kept growing. “Fuck, whatever… I’ll just have to prove you that nobody will ever fuck you like I can, get you pregnant so you can only see me… love me…” His eyes lightened for a second just from the thought, and before you even noticed, your back was once again pressed against the mattress, with Scarlatella towering over you as he was finally able to gradually introduce his whole length, the stretch making you whine and cling to his back. “You feel so good around me, love… Just wait, I’ll fill you up, fill your pretty pussy with my cum so nobody ever tries to get too close to you—You’ll look so pretty with your tummy all round—” As Scarlatella’s hips started to punish your sore cunt, you were finally able to cum, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your legs locked around him, as a poor attempt on getting him to stop for a second.

“Wait—Too soon, I can’t get pregnant yet!” You pushed a bit against his lower abdomen, your hands barely stopping him as they kept shaking because of the constant orgasms that just kept pilling up, forcing your brain to become more and more fuzzy each time. It was then that Scarlatella wrapped his own hands around your waists, using them as mere handles for him to push the tip of his cock just a bit further, just enough for you to cum once more with a pathetic whine. Despite you had already cum all over him, Scarlatella’s thrusts didn’t slow down, if not growing stronger as his mind was already too far gone.

“Gotta get you pregnant—That’s all I need—Fill your pretty pussy with my cock and get you to- Fuck- cream all over my cock, that’s it baby… Cum all over your husband, make a mess on my cock, you’re doing so good love…” His words kept resonating in your mind, almost as if it was some kind of chant, and despite you tried your best to endure it, your brain gave up, after all, Scarlatella had been taking care of you so nicely… It wouldn’t hurt to let him keep doing it for the rest of his life… right? As Scarlatella kept muttering to himself, his cock was already twitching, signifying just how close he was to releasing his essence inside of you. With your mind now completely broken, you smiled, your arms and legs tightening around his waist as his cock kept hammering against your cervix, one of his hands carefully pressing against the lower half of your abdomen, causing the pleasure to just build up even further as he finally released his load inside of you, his constant groans now turning into soft praises and kisses. “You did so good, love… Let me take care of everything from now on, I will make you the happiest wife ever, no need to think about anything, just promise to tell me everything you need or want, yeah? I’ll be the best husband int the world.” His hands kept petting your hair as his cock started to deflate inside you, still remaining inside as he refused to pull out in case some of his essence spilled out. “Let’s wait a bit, love. I will prepare the bath in few minutes; I just want to make sure everything goes correctly.” He peppered a few kisses all over your face, his hand rubbing your tummy as he kept imagining that near future he had been longing for.

[dukeofankh]

Trying to find progressive masculine community is so exhausting.

I've flipped through local men's groups, trying to find places to explore masculinity in a chill, progressive setting. First of all, they mostly seem to be modelled after AA, and like, my gender isn't a debilitating addiction, it's part of my identity actually, but also, the invite and description of the event have maybe a short paragraph tops actually waving vaguely in the direction of what the purpose of the group is, and then ten to twenty paragraphs breaking down the rules. One spent longer talking about the hand signals he would use to direct conversation than he did describing what the conversation would be about. Another had a full paragraph explaining that if the group thought you were evading what they thought your "real" problem was, they'd probably "call you to take accountability". Like...I don't even know who these people are yet and they're already letting me know that they view it as their right, no, their duty, to bully me into seeing things their way. Like, this is in the invite.

...and this warning is there instead of any sort of breakdown of like, I dunno. Whether you should be a feminist to show up. Whether it was a safe space for queer men. What the hell they wanted to talk about. Joining a men's space is on some level inherently submitting yourself to the authority of the leaders of that group, and you don't usually get a particularly clear breakdown of what the values and goals of those leaders are, because on some level the answer is always going to be "whatever I want"

And like, unfortunately you do need to filter men to build a men's space. You do need to remove or chastise men who act in ways that are toxic or disruptive or misogynistic. If you don't things turn into an MRA chapter pretty quick. But the sort of emergency powers that leadership takes on as a result of that...just kind of naturally end up reproducing masculine heirarchies.

MensLib, the only online community of progressive dudes talking about masculinity that I'm aware of, is...on Reddit. So there is a moderator system. In theory, a moderator is there to...moderate. This is a space where people are going to be talking, and mods are there to make sure things don't get too toxic or off topic.

The issue is that, on some level, that is technically a leadership position. In a sub trying to rehabilitate masculinity. So you've got a bunch of folks who view themselves as the leaders of this bastion of goodness standing against the depredations of the misogynistic internet, guiding the hapless smooth-brain neophytes towards The True Way.

In practice, this looks like 95 percent of the posts submitted for the subreddit being rejected. That isn't hyperbole. On average, the sub has about one new post per day. Almost all posts directly relating a personal experience are deleted immediately, in favour of articles written about masculinity in traditional media publications, which are considered more trustworthy than the sus lived experiences of the guys in the sub. The post I wrote here about the effect of purity culture on male sexual shame that's sitting at about 15K notes was based on a 10K word post I wrote for Reddit that was deleted because "I didn't cite any sources to prove that there is a link between purity culture and male sexual shame, or that my experience was anything more than anecdotal". I get comments deleted on a regular basis, and after paragraphs of protesting in modmail that my comments are both fully in line with feminism and not against the rules, the mods have just finally told me that the rules don't actually drive their actions as a team. They delete anything they feel leads the conversation in a direction they personally feel is unproductive. The rule cited at the time of deletion is really just the broad category of why they decided to hit the button that says nobody is allowed to read what I wrote.

The issue is kind of twofold. First of all, progressive men do not trust other men. A good dude knows that he, individually, is a good person, but literally any other man external to him is on thin ice. Do you really want to tie your wagon to that guy? Do you trust him, really? How do you tell the difference between a guy criticizing an article because it's factually incorrect and criticising it because a woman wrote it? Probably best to play it safe and delete it. Weight of the odds, he's probably a misogynist, right? This is the internet.

And thats the other half of it. If you view yourself as part of the leadership of The Good Guys, and you're getting hatemail from incels and facists all day, you get to the point where most of the time people challenge your authority it's because they're a terrible person. It is very, very easy to get to the point where someone challenging you is seen as evidence that they are a bad person. And now someone is challenging you (and therefore bad), in an environment where you are in charge, and you have a "make your opponent disappear" button.

I know. A Reddit mod was rude to me and now I'm butthurt. It's petty and stupid. I'm just feeling like there's nowhere else to really go, and I'm pretty despondent that literally every space I've seen that even looks like it might be for progressive men has the same deeply hierarchical structure and constant status-oriented squabbling as patriarchal spaces.