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pepperfishh · 24 days ago

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The Autonomous: Chapter 8

The Autonomous: Chapter 8

I woke up to shaking. There was a small hand on my arm, shaking me lightly.

“Tris, I need you to wake up now,” someone was whispering. My first instinct was to jerk away, but my body wasn’t super cooperative. I only managed a small flinch. The hand moved away as I opened my eyes and blinked several times.

There were small slivers of light peeking in through the windows, but otherwise, the room was dark. I willed my eyes to focus as I looked at who was leaning over me.

Tori.

She was on her knees next to me, hand hovering over my shoulder.

“Tori, what?” I asked, my voice thick with grogginess.

She clicked something in hands and then a bright light was shining in my eyes. I started pushing her hands away, groaning.

“Tori, what the hell?”

“Since you refused medical observation,” she says, her voice calm, “and no one could find you, I thought I may take a crack at it. Do you know where you are?”

I thought about it for a moment, but I really didn’t. “No.” I’m not sure why I’m whispering. “I remember just kind of walking around until I was too exhausted, and I sat down against a wall. Where am I?”

Tori nodded, like my answer is what she had expected. “Just a random abandoned building. I don’t think anyone else would have found you here, because it’s not exactly easy to access and no one would have thought you could get here in your current state. Everyone thinks you’re much more physically injured than you are.” At my inquisitive stare, she adds on, “You would have had to climb up about three stories to get here with no stairs or ladders.”

I give a small hmph. I honestly have no recollection.

“What’s going on between you and your instructor?” She tried to keep her tone light and even, but I detect a sense of… well, something in it.

“Nothing,” I insist. “Why?”

“Because everyone else kind of gave up and went to bed eventually.” She pauses, giving me a knowing smirk. “Four, on the other hand, has been up all night. Roaming the halls, checking the cameras; honestly, it was getting irritating.”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure why.”

The look on her face as she nods tells me she doesn’t believe me. After a moment, a sympathetic look falls over her face, and I know what’s coming before she opens her mouth.

“Look Tris, I know coming from Abnegation, it’s a little different for you,” she starts.

“No,” I say firmly. “No one was supposed to know I came from Abnegation. And I’ve done a really good job of keeping everyone guessing. Christina told me if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m in the transfer class, they would have sworn I was Dauntless born. I didn’t want anyone to know.”

She’s got that same look on her face still, and I snap, “And that look on your face is the exact reason I didn’t want to see anyone tonight. I don’t need anyone’s pity.”

“It’s not pity, Tris,” she argues back. “Everyone is concerned about you. You stormed off with a head injury and no one could find you.”

“They do pity me,” I insist. “Now they’re all just looking at the poor little prude girl from Abnegation that freaks out over a little bit of human contact.”

“Tris.” Her voice is firm now, and she says nothing else until I look at her. “Your reaction was perfectly justified. Sure, it may have been a little more than what some of them were expecting, but with you being from Abnegation, it was perfectly justified. And even if you weren’t from Abnegation, you’re allowed to feel any way you want about being touched without your permission.”

“I just needed some time alone.”

“Perfect, you’ve had more than enough. You still have a couple of hours until you need to report this morning.”

“I’m not going back to my room.” I didn’t mean to interrupt her, but it just fell out.

“I have a couch you can crash on,” she offers. “But I am going to have to tell Four that I found you and if I cannot give him the assurance that someone is with you, he’s never going to rest.”

I give in. I don’t know why Four is so worried, but I don’t want him to stay up any longer worrying over me when I’m fine. I nod to Tori and she silently holds out her hand to help me up.

“Since you got up here, I assume you’re good to get down?” I nod in reply and move towards the windows.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Leaving the way I came.” I shrug, nodding my head towards the open window. “I just use the roofs to get around.”

Tori is just staring at me. It’s like she doesn’t want to believe what I said, but she does believe it.

“You’re something else, kid.” It’s a simple statement. And then she followed me out the window.

I pause when I get up to the roof and then reach down to extend a hand to Tori as an offer of assistance. She takes my hand and I pull her swiftly up to the roof.

“You’re much more experienced than a typical transfer,” she comments as she brushes the dirt off her pants.

“I was trained to do my job,” I say evenly. “My transfer to Dauntless was planned for a long time.”

“You only knew your aptitude results the day before,” Tori says curiously. I realize that, perhaps, Tori doesn’t know who recruited me. That’s probably for the best.

“And my test results said Abnegation,” I say lightly. “Which way is your home?”

She starts off towards the building to the right and I follow.

“Your results were a little more than Abnegation. You had no way to know that Dauntless would be there too.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered. I’ve always known I would come to Dauntless. Abnegation was never my home – not really.”

By the time we’ve jumped and climbed across several buildings, we’re moving in silence. Tori finally starts down a fire escape. We climb down and I continue following her as she walks down the alleyway and into a building.

“I just wish you would have been able to enjoy your childhood a bit more,” she says finally as she slows her walking. “You’re so young but there’s already so much weight on your shoulders.”

“I’ve never known anything else.” I tell her. “It feels like I was made for this.”

She rounds the corner and the stops, causing me to slam into her back.

“Sorry Tris.”

At first, I think she’s apologizing for stopping, but when she moves out of the way, I realize that’s not it. Four and Eric are standing in the hallway, across from what I assume is the door to her apartment.

They turn towards us as our footsteps become audible.

“Found her,” Tori says simply. I ignore them and keep my head down, following her to the door. I stand quietly behind her while she pulls out her keys and unlocks them.

“Tris.” His voice is soft and he’s standing much closer than he was a moment ago. I turn my head and see his hand hovering over my shoulder, like he started to stop me, but thought better of touching me after my last reaction.

“I’m fine,” I insist. “I’m completely fine. I just want to go to sleep.”

“Go, Four. We found her. She’s alive. Go home.” For once, I don’t hear any kind of malice in Eric’s voice. He doesn’t sound particularly comforting either, but still, it’s a change from how he normally talks to Four.

I don’t feel like getting in the middle of whatever that is, so I just turn back and walk into Tori’s apartment. She’s already setting a pillow and blanket on the couch, but I just walk to the windows and look outside.

I feel like I’m losing my mind. I’ve already fucked up so much. I draw too much attention for knowing what I’m doing, but even with that, I’m not doing well enough to be secure in my place at Dauntless. With the first stage over, I may find out soon that I’m out. I didn’t make the cut.

And then what do I do with the rest of my life? I could survive factionless; I’m not concerned about that. But I’m only a few weeks away from everything I’ve been working towards my entire life. What if it’s already too late? What if I’ve lost it? What if-?

“Tris, a word?”

I hadn’t realized Eric had entered the apartment. I turn and catch Tori throwing a glare at him from the kitchen. I eye the door cautiously and Eric holds his hands up in surrender.

“Four is gone. I just want to make sure you’re actually okay.” He gives Tori a side eye.

“It’s fine, Tori,” I say to her. “I’m pretty sure I could take him.”

Eric lets out a laugh. The sound seems to surprise Tori.

She nods slowly. “Okay, just yell if you need anything.” She sends one last glance over her shoulder before closing herself in the bedroom.

Eric steps further into the apartment and takes a seat at the table, motioning for me to sit across from him. When I sit down, he takes a breath and leans back, looking intently at me.

“I need to know what happened between you and Peter.”

A harsh laugh fell out of my lips. “You were there, Eric. I don’t think I need to give you the details.”

“Peter made comments…” he trails off for a moment, trying to figure out what he wanted to say, probably. “He made comments, during the fight, implying a certain familiarity with what was under your clothing.”

I flush in anger at the reminder.

“Are you or were you in a relationship with Peter?” I know by the look on his face that he knows the answer to this. “Look, everything today has been a whole ordeal and since I’m in charge, everyone is asking me what the hell happened. So, I’m trying to figure it out for myself. A lot of people are trying to say it was some kind of breakup drama between you and Peter, but since you haven’t been able to stand the sight of him since day one, I’m fairly certain that’s not it.”

His eyes are drilling into me, waiting for me to make a contradiction.

“No,” I force out. “I have never been in a relationship with Peter.” Or anyone, for that matter. But that’s beside the point.

“Okay. So can you explain Peter’s comments please?” I don’t want to. “Because anyone with any kind of interaction with you knows you can’t stand him. I need you to understand that Peter is still in the infirmary, and we’ve had to place two guys there to make sure Four doesn’t kill him in his sleep.”

That shocks me. “Why?”

“You’re not that blind, Tris.” His voice is condescending, but I don’t really know what’s going on.

“I beat the shit out of him. Why would anyone be after him?”

His eyes are hard now, like he’s done beating around the bush. “Tris, you’re forgetting I’m the one that made the changes to the roster. At your request. I saw what you looked like when you walked into the training room. You wanted to fight Peter. What did Peter do that made you look physically ill while he walked away with the knowledge of what you look like with your clothes off?”

“Oh.” Is all I can say. I didn’t realize they’d made that kind of connection. Honestly, at the time, I almost forgot there were other people in the room when we were fighting.

“Yeah, oh.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I turn my head away from him, staring at the wall.

“I really don’t give a damn, Tris. I need to know if I need to kick Peter out of the program before rankings are posted.”

I shake my head, wincing. “It’s not… It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Would you like to tell me what I’m thinking?” Eric asks sarcastically.

“You think Peter raped me.” The words sound strange coming out of my mouth.

Eric tilts his head to the side once; confirmation of my words.

“He didn’t.”

“Then what happened?” Eric presses. “Because if he tried and you’re just saying he didn’t because you stopped him, or someone else stopped it, that doesn’t make it any better.”

“That’s not what happened,” I promise.

“Then what did?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I snap at him, losing my cool. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about him. I don’t want to talk about the embarrassment. I don’t want to think about how disgusting I still feel.

“Hey, hey, okay, calm down.” He’s up from his chair and in my face now. “Tris, breathe.”

I didn’t know I had stopped, but eventually, I do calm down. Once my breathing is back under control, Eric gives me a hard look.

“See this… do you understand why I’m not at ease with you not wanting to tell me what happened? Because you keep saying it wasn’t a big deal, but your reactions tell me it obviously was.”

I let out a sigh. “Eric, I know what you mean, but I just don’t want to talk about it. I have no plans to report anything. Obviously, the fight is common knowledge now. But if there’s any takeaway from this, you can assure people that I have promised you that Peter did not rape me, and there is no need for him to have a death warrant hanging over his head.”

Eric looks at me, studying me trying to determine if I’m lying. “But he did something?” he asks, although it sounds more than a statement. I give him a nod but refuse to say anything else on the matter.

He continues studying me, but I don’t give in. Eventually, he just nods – mostly to himself – before standing.

“Alright.” He gives me a withering look. “Just get some rest, Tris.”

Once he’s left, I settled onto the couch and fell asleep the moment my eyes closed.

I wake to more shaking and bright light in my eyes, and when I squint them open, I see Tori, again, crouched over with a penlight.

“This isn’t a great way to wake up, you know?” I groan at her.

“Sorry for making sure you aren’t brain damaged.” She’s rolling her eyes at me, so I don’t actually think she’s sorry.

She asks me to tell her my name. I guess it’s convenient that she’s the one doing these checks, since she’s the only person here that knows it.

She asks me what day it is. She asks me to repeat what has happened in the last 24 hours.

After what seems like forever of answering mundane questions, she slaps her hands lightly on the couch and stands.

“Well, I think you’re okay. Does your head still hurt?”

I nod. “Not as bad as it did yesterday, but sudden movements still make me feel like I’m being stabbed.”

“Take it easy, today. Are your parents coming for Visiting Day?”

“I suspect my mother will.”

“Good. I think you definitely need someone to talk to.” Tori wanders back into her bedroom before returning with a change of clothes. “We’re about the same size, I think. Here’s something to wear for the day. You should get out of here before you miss breakfast.”

I was happy to see that most of my friends were absent from breakfast by the time I got there. Eric sent me a nod from his seat, but didn’t say anything. I slid a couple eggs onto slices of bread and ate my small breakfast as quickly as possible.

When 10 AM started approaching, the dining hall emptied out rapidly as everyone made their way to the Pit to greet their families. I stuck to the walls as I walked through, not wanting to draw attention to myself as I made my way to the net.

I was leaning back against the wall, listening for the train, when I Eric approached and mimicked my stance next to me.

“No family today?” His tone is noncommittal, but I sense the genuine curiosity in his tone.

“I don’t see yours,” I comment in the same tone as I hear the telltale grinding metal noises of a train approaching. I push off the wall and approach the net to look up through the hole in the ceiling.

Eric doesn’t move, but I can feel his eyes on me.

A dark figure looms on the edge of the building above and wastes no time making the leap, her happy squeal bringing a smile to my face as she goes airborne.

“What the hell?” bursts out of Eric’s mouth in surprise as he starts pushing off the wall.

When my mother lands in the net, she’s giggling like a child. It’s a nice change of pace from the typical serious moods she has. I reach forward to pull the net down and her body rolls to the side until she reaches the edge and grabs my extended hand to step down.

As soon as her feet are on the ground, she pulls me into a tight hug.

“Tris, it’s so good to see you,” she whispers in my ear.

“I’ve missed you, mother,” I whisper back, tightening our embrace for a moment before we both pull apart. Her arms stay on my shoulders in a tight grip as her eyes roam up and down my body.

“You’ve certainly adjusted well to Dauntless life,” she observes.

I blush a little. “Yes, I had a bit of an incident yesterday and stayed with a friend last night. She gave me these clothes to wear since I didn’t have a clean change of clothes.”

The outfit Tori provided for me was certainly a little less conservative than what I would wear, even with adjustments I’d made for Dauntless. Everything was covered that needed to be, but the rest of the material of the shirt was sheer and the pants she gave me were full of cuts and holes, showing much more skin that I typically would.

“You look wonderful,” she assures me. “Very Dauntless.”

I give her a bit of a surprised look as I take in her appearance. “You as well. I didn’t realize you even still had anything like this.”

I hadn’t exactly expected her to show up in the greys that were typical of Abnegation, but looking at her in this moment, I can’t tell the difference between her and the typical Dauntless member I see on a daily basis.

She’s wearing a red tank top, skintight, with a black leather jacket and skintight blank pants with boots. I can’t tell what she’s done to her hair as the jacket she has on has a thin hood that she’s pulled up to help cover her identity a little more. I have a very similar outfit that I got at her insistence for that exact reason. She’s not exactly a public figure, but being married to a council member, some people may recognize her.

Eric clears his throat behind me and my mother’s eyes move to look at him over my shoulder. To my surprise, I see a sly smile appear on her face.

“Mr. Coulter,” she greets him. “It’s wonderful to see you. I trust you’re doing well.”

What?!

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absurdthirst · 2 years ago

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Love to Hate You {Marcus Pike x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: Road rage, insults, curses, Marcus being an ass, misogyny, hurt feelings, slapping, scratching, biting, hate fucking, rough sex, derogatory language, angst, dealing with emotions.

Comments: A random run in with Marcus Pike in the parking garage sets up an atmosphere where you two hate each other. Petty office annoyances turn into real problems when you are set to work on an op together, and things get really heated.

A/N: LISTEN....I know this is completely opposite the Marcus Pike we all know and love. But you can’t convince me that there isn’t a bit of an asshole hidden under that nice guy facade.

|| MasterList ||

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Shit. Shit. You are going to be late. You huff and tap your fingers on the steering wheel impatiently while the stupid fucking car in front of you apparently has no clue where they are going. Driving like a grandma out for a Sunday drive. You blow out another annoyed breath and slam your hand down on the horn. “Move it!” You yell, not even caring that your window is halfway down. “Come on, asshole, read the signs!”

Marcus growls when someone honks him and he hears “come on, asshole, read the signs!” He narrows his eyes at the car that overtakes him. He has never been a speed demon, content to drive along at a decent speed since he is always running ahead. As he’s gotten older, he’s found he prefers a relaxing drive listening to music than speeding along and cursing the traffic. He shakes his head when he sees the car parked up in the FBI parking garage. When he sees you getting out, he knows immediately who you are. The head of the cyber crime department. He puts his window the rest of the way down and shouts out, “you should slow down. You’re gonna kill yourself or someone else with the way you drive.”

Your road rage probably isn’t your best feature, but you are too busy to do more than shoot a finger at the asshole as you grab your briefcase and rush towards the parking garage elevator, digging in your bag to look for your badge. You barely got a glance at the guy but he was obviously new to the building - you haven’t noticed him - and you didn’t have time to show some wide eyed newbie around headquarters.

Marcus shakes his head, unable to believe you are being so fucking rude. He watches you stride off and he drives to park in his own space. After getting coffee and settling in, he calms down but he can’t believe what a bitch you are and he doesn’t hesitate to tell the tale to his colleague Jackson in the break room when he’s getting his next cup of coffee. “And when I told her she should slow down, she gave me the finger. What a bitch.” He shakes his head, not knowing you were walking in the shared break room.

You snort and shake your head, enjoying the way that the agent’s eyes widen and he flushes with embarrassment at being caught being a jerk. “Some of us actually have jobs to do.” You comment to the room as you walk over to the coffee pot and reach for your coffee mug on the rack, only to find that it is missing. “Where the fuck is my coffee mug?” You hiss, turning around and narrowing your eyes when you see the cup with #1 Agent written in gold in the newbie’s hand. Huffing, you roll your eyes and grab a styrofoam cup instead. “Don’t use cups that don’t belong to you.” You snark, pouring a cup and turning around. “Otherwise someone might just call you an asshole.” You smirk and walk past him with your head held high. “Wash it when you're done.”

Marcus internally curses himself for fucking up before he reminds himself that you are the bitch that cursed him out and gave him the finger. He shakes his head and downs the rest of the coffee cup, smirking as he leaves it on the side, unwashed, and makes his way back to his office. This means war.

****

It’s become widely known around the water cooler that you and Special Agent Marcus Pike of the Art Crimes Division don’t like each other. Since that first day, things have not gotten better. On the good days, you just ignore him, pretending that he’s not even present in the elevator or break room when you are getting your much needed caffeine. On the bad days….it’s sneered insults and grumbled curses. Never in front of anyone else, no, this feud is kept between the two of you, although from what you’ve heard, Pike’s still calling you a bitch. “Mother fucker.” You hiss, picking your cup out of the sink, dirty, for the last time and just throwing the damn thing away. “I hate that man.”

Marcus is working on filing a report on an art thief when he gets the call to go into his boss’s office. He sighs, saving the report before he stands up and makes his way to the office. When he enters and sees you, his upper lip curls. Marcus is usually a calm and mild mannered man but you seem to bring out the worst in him. You are so fucking aggravating and he hates you. You just always get under his skin. “What’s she doing here?” He asks his boss with no preamble.

Taking off his glasses, the director leans back in his chair. “There is a case that has come in that’s going to require the Cyber division and Art Crimes to work together.” He tells Marcus before shooting you a look. “Given the rumors that swirl around the water cooler, is that going to be a problem?”

Your cheeks heat up, furious that your boss has heard about the friction between the two of you. “No problem for me, sir.” You straighten in your chair and don’t even glance at Marcus. “I cannot speak for my counterpart, however.”

Marcus straightens his back, shaking his head at his boss. He can’t allow his personal loathing of you to affect his career. “Not a problem at all sir. We can be professionals and work together.” Marcus assures his boss who nods.

“Very well. I want this case solved as soon as possible between your two departments. I will have all the files sent over to you both.” He says and Marcus shuffles out of the room after you’re dismissed.

“Shit.” He hisses under his breath, rubbing his cheek.

You huff as you hear Marcus curse behind you, turning and rolling your eyes at him. “Don’t worry, Pike.” You coo. “Cyber crimes has a record for solving cases quickly. I’ll make sure I put plenty of overtime in so I don’t have to deal with a horse’s ass like you for too long.” You turn back around and start walking to your disorganized office.

Marcus stares as you walk away before he gets pissed. Deciding to follow you, he strides down the hall and enters your office without knocking. “Jesus. Don’t you ever tidy this place up?” He comments, staring at the piles of paperwork and empty coffee cups. It’s disgusting and he could never work in this environment.

“Some of us are too busy doing actual work, Pike.” You scoff, starting to shift through files and papers, looking for something. “You know? Putting the bad guys away? I know it’s a concept you aren’t familiar with, but I happen to be really good at it.” You shift a pile to the floor and huff when you almost knock a cup over with a few dregs of coffee in it, barely managing to keep it from knocking over at the last second. “Plus, some asshole kept using my cup, so I had to use disposable ones.”

Marcus rolls his eyes, “seriously? You’re still pissed about the mug thing? Jesus. You need - you know what? We are gonna solve this case. My department, not yours. So step aside and let the real professionals handle it. You can spend the time organizing your office and maybe you can practice how to not be such a bitch.” He growls, knowing this isn’t his usual self but you infuriate him.

“Fuck off, Pike.” You straighten up and throw him a glare with your hands on your hips. “I don’t see how anyone believes that ‘nice guy’ bullshit you spew.” You roll your eyes at him before you dive back into your desk to find what you are looking for. “No wonder your ex left you.” You mutter under your breath, having heard all about the situation with Agent Lisbon out of the Austin office.

Marcus freezes because he hears your mutter, unable to believe you’d sink so low to say that to him. He shakes his head, “you know what? Go fuck yourself. I will be professional to get this case closed, but you? No wonder I’ve heard rumors that your pussy can freeze a man’s dick off. Ice fucking cold. I’ll give you the files after I’ve reviewed them.” He says before he spins on his heel and walks out of your office, his hatred for you surging through him.

Your mouth drops open, shocked at the comment he just made. Everyone else believed the nice guy facade he put on, talked about what a great guy he is, but you get told that. “Fuck you, Pike.” You mutter to yourself, walking out the door and calling for your assistant to go to the director’s office and get that file first. Damned if you were going to wait for Art Crimes to turn it over. “We’ll see who will solve it, asshole.” You smirk, looking around your office and formulating a plan of attack.

Marcus smirks as he settles down at his desk, opening the first file. He knew you’d try to get the files first and he immediately left to go get them. Counting down the moments until you stride into his office pissed that he got them first. His door swings open and he bites his lip, trying to smother his smirk as you stomp in. “Can I help you?” He asks, trying to act innocent.

“Make a damn copy of the file.” You huff, stamping your foot and glaring at him. You are annoyed that he had gotten the upper hand and tired of even fucking thinking of him right now. “That way we don’t have to even interact unless absolutely necessary.”

He nods, “fine. I’ll have my assistant send a copy over to you. I am already working out an op. They seem to like distracting their victims at the casino while the other robs their hotel room. We will set up a piece of art to draw them in.”

“You are working out an op?” You roll your eyes and walk around the desk to lean over and look. The Cyber division needed more than just wasted time watching people. You needed the electric trail. Otherwise why would the director put you on this case. “Bold of you, considering you don’t even know who you are up against.” You frown and shake your head. “They aren’t just interested in art.” You point out, reaching out to point at a few names. “That is the CEO of a top notch cyber security firm.”

Marcus frowns, shaking his head back at you. “Maybe so but we can tag the artwork and then track the transaction once it’s been paid for. Trace the money. I’m sure your guys can do that. We need to move fast before the intel changes.”

You snort, shrugging your shoulders. “Fine. But when they don’t go for some shit piece of impressionist art, maybe you’ll listen to reason.” You shrug straighten up and walk back towards his door, brushing past his desk and even though you didn’t mean to, you knocked his pen holder onto the floor. Thinking about the information you had just read and not even paying attention to the sound of the clattering pens behind you. A bad habit of hyper focusing that happens often when you get a new case.

Marcus growls when you knock over his pen holder. “You’re such a Goddamn bitch.” He hisses and you spin to look at him.

“What did you say?” You hiss and he narrows his eyes at you.

“You are a bitch.” He growls again.

You have no idea what prompted that comment but you aren’t going to let it stand. “And you are an insecure, small-dicked asshole. Have a perfectly fucked day. I hope you choke.” You insult before you turn and slam his door so hard, it knocks the pictures of the president and the director of the FBI off the wall.

Marcus wants to scream and rush after you, tell you you’re a fucking rude bitch but he doesn’t. He holds his tongue and bends down to pick up his pens, muttering under his breath about you. He doesn’t understand why you hate him so much and act so poorly. It’s aggravating and he loathes it…loathes you.

“Boss.” You don’t look up, furiously scribbling notes on your thoughts about the case file. “Boss.” Fucking Marcus Pike had finally sent the file over only an hour ago. You frown, remembering seeing that name before and shift gears, shuffling through the papers underneath the one you are writing on. Trying to see if you’ve written it down before and that’s why it’s familiar. “Boss!”

Your head jerks up when you finally realize someone is talking to you, finding Parker standing in your doorway. “What?”

Parker laughs, used to your behavior and shakes his head. “It’s time to go home. You leaving?” He asks, making you shake your head.

“No, I’ve got a lot of information to go through before I cut out.” You always made sure you were well versed in the case before even giving it to your team. “You go home though.” You don’t say it’s that fucker over at Art Crimes fault that you will probably pull an all nighter. You don’t talk about shit like that with your team. “Have a good night, okay?” Dismissing him, you duck your head and throw yourself back into the case file.

Marcus walks past your office on his way out and frowns when he sees your light is still on. When he realizes it’s because you’re still looking over the files, he smirks and strides out of the building, intent on getting some take out and spending his night relaxing before he dives back into the case in the morning.

You sigh, leaning back and rubbing your eyes when you toss your pen down on the desk. The office is quiet and dark, the cleaning crew having come through hours before and as a result, your desk is somewhat neat. It’s too late and you’re too tired to drive to your townhouse, making you groan as you look over at the couch in the corner. A night on the office sofa sounds like your plan. Thank God you keep a bag in the trunk of your car for the gym and you can use the showers in the morning. Cursing, you ignore the way your stomach grumbles, turning off your desk light and shuffling over to the couch to lay down. This is all fucking Pike’s fault.

Marcus strides into the office, feeling relaxed and content as he readies himself for another day of work. When he passes your office, he sees your blinds are closed and he chuckles, knowing you have slept in your office. He knocks on your door, biting his lip to smother his smirk when he sees your slightly disheveled appearance after you open the door. “Ah. Did you have a good night?” He asks, leaning after the door frame.

You blink, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes before glaring at him, “fucking fantastic, Pike.” You hiss, never a morning person before coffee anyway and less likely to be one when talking to him. “What do you want?”

“Oh I just wanted to check in. Before you ask, I had a wonderful evening. I ordered take out - Thai food - and had a nice bottle of white wine, caught up on my tv shows and went to bed around eleven and had a great night’s sleep. It was perfect. I just wanted to make sure you reviewed the files since we need to get a game plan together.”

You nearly lunge at him, growling angrily at the way that he is rubbing his evening in your face. “I’ve already outlined the op.” You huff, turning around and grabbing a file off your desk and slapping it against his chest. “Now I need to go down to the gym and take a shower.” Your stomach snarls in anger, hungry since you haven’t eaten anything all night.

Marcus snorts as he watches you walk away, amused at how mad you are. He loves to see it. “Yeah. You definitely need a shower.” He wrinkles his nose before he walks off, deciding to get himself a coffee from the fancy machine on the 10th floor. Your growl reaches his ears as he heads towards the elevator and he chuckles, loving how he has the upper hand this morning.

Down in the gym showers, you angrily strip off your clothes after getting your bag out of the trunk. You were a bit self conscious, hating how Pike had insinuated you stink. Sniffing yourself and shaking your head, not smelling anything foul but you can’t help but unsure. Maybe you were just used to the way you smelled. Turning on the water, you grab your toiletry kit and the towel, ready to clean up.

Marcus really hates being on this case with you. He wishes he could do it solo but the damn target uses the money for laundering. Deciding it’s best to just get this over with, he finds your office and knocks on the door. He enters after you yell out and he smirks, “smells a bit better in here.”

You’re too tired to fight, instead you just glance back down at your report. “What do you want, Pike?” You murmur, the vending machine sandwich you had scarfed down along with a cup of coffee made you feel almost human.

“We need to coordinate this op. The sooner we get this perp caught, the quicker we can be done with each other.” He crosses his arms and notices the way your blouse tightens across your chest, making him swallow a little before he reminds himself that he hates you.

“Did you even read the file I gave you?” You don’t invite him to sit down, you don’t really want him here for long. Already accomplishing most of the preliminary work, the only thing to do would be to put the op in place. All his team had to do was show up and be in place. Your own team was busy working on another case so you were working on this yourself.

Marcus decides to take a seat, knowing that you want him out of your office. “I did read the file. We are gonna do an op at the casino. Get a hotel room and watch as the art is sold then track the money. My team can take care of it if your team is incapable. I know your department is better in a cozy office setting instead of in the field.”

Your eyes are sharp when they meet his. “My team -“ you hiss, “has the best close rate of any department in this building.” You aren’t bragging, it’s a statistical fact. “And we’ve all been involved with more raids than your own team.” You know the other members of the Art Crimes team and frankly, they weren’t anywhere near your own team in terms of experience.

Marcus snorts, crossing his arms. “When Smith was in charge. Now? Meh, the team is subpar at best. You don’t handle them well enough.” It’s not true but he wants to get a reaction out of you so he crosses his legs and chuckles, “it’s because you’re a woman.”

“Wow.” Your cheeks burn and you shoot to your feet. “I knew you were an asshole Pike, but I never took you for a sexist fucking pig.” You scoff. “I might have known you would be one of the ‘good ‘ole boys’. No wonder….” You were going to go for another low blow but you are done wasting your words. “Get out of my office.”

Marcus feels guilty for his comment, something he absolutely doesn’t believe but it slipped out in his quest to be as venomous as possible towards you. “I-” He doesn’t even argue, just acknowledges that he went too far. He didn’t mean it. “I’ll get the team organized.” He says before he leaves your office, feeling ashamed of himself.

You can’t believe that Marcus fucking Pike can make you cry, but tears plop down onto your files. Brushed away after the door closes and you flop down into your chair. Anger and quite frankly disappointment swell in your chest. You know that you are good, you don’t need someone to pat your back, but it’s Goddamn disappointing to realize that once again, you will have to prove that you belong. “Fuck him.” You mutter to yourself. “He doesn’t matter.”

Marcus settles down into his office chair, rubbing his chin and he feels awful for telling you that you aren’t good enough because you’re a woman. His mama would be slapping him around the head for saying shit like that. Still, it’s you and he would never apologize to you. The op needs to be in place ASAP so he can be done with you. The sooner the better.

Forty-five minutes later, you are out of your office and walking towards the bullpen where your team is situated. They are all working on another high priority case, and you will be handling this alone. “James, you’ll be running lead while I’m on this case with Art Crimes.” You tell the senior agent and sigh, wishing you could assign it to someone else. “I’ll be out of pocket for a few days, a week at most.”

Marcus debriefs his team on what is needed to pull off this op and they all get to work. The intel is there, it just needs to be executed flawlessly and he plans on doing just that. With a sigh, he walks back into his office, still feeling guilty for his comment as he types an email to tell you the time and place and when the debrief is happening.

The next day you show up at the meeting with a box of donuts for the team. As much as you hate their team leader, they weren’t to blame for that. Even though you were five minutes late when you walked in because of stopping to get said donuts.

Marcus watches you walk in, box of donuts in hand, and he rolls his eyes at the way you’re trying to win his team over. He knows they will likely cave to the sweet treats but he won’t. He will be stoic yet polite to try and get this op over with. “Good morning.” He greets you once you are standing beside him, “no donut for me?”

“Good morning.” You are stiffly polite and motion towards the box. “If you want.” You bite your tongue to keep from making a snarky comment in front of his team, although you want to. You want to make a comment that will hurt his feelings, if he had them.

“No, thank you. You probably poisoned one just for me.” He snorts under his breath.

“Whatever Pike, let’s get this over with.” Your huff makes him want to roll his eyes but he doesn’t, jumping into explaining the op instead.

You sit through the explanation of the op with gritted teeth, pissed that he would start shit in front of his own team. “No,” you interrupt when he messes up a key component of the op. “The teams need to be surveilling from the floor.” You tell Marcus. “Only I need to be in the room to trace the money. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“No.” Marcus shakes his head, “no. You will be with me. Both of us can run the op from the room and ensure that the team pulls off the artwork. We can pull off both aspects as the leaders of these departments like professionals.” He can’t help but add that, wanting you to stop treating him like a damn kid.

You give him a sour look but you don’t say anything, turning to his team and smiling. “I’m sure it will be a pleasure to work with each of you.” You tell them, making sure that you don’t look at Marcus.

Marcus shakes his head slightly before he claps his hands. “Let’s go prepare and meet at 1900 hours to get this show on the road. You ready for this? I know it’s gonna be difficult without your team to back you up.” He declares mockingly as his team leaves the room with their donuts.

You curl your lip in disgust when you see a few of his team looking back at the two of you. “I don’t need my team to do my job, Pike.” You tell him as you start striding towards the door. “Good choice on laying off the donuts though.” You tell him with a smirk. “You don’t want that stomach to get to the point where you can’t find that tiny prick with both hands.”

Marcus narrows his eyes before he smirks. His next comment is out of character but he hates you so much, you bring out the worst in him. “I can assure you that my prick is sufficient enough to make a woman cum. Not that you’d know about that clearly since you’re so damn stiff. Maybe you just need an orgasm to get that stick out of your ass.”

You scoff and give him a hot glare. It’s the second time he’s brought up you needing an orgasm and you’re starting to think that he’s obsessed. “And let me guess? You can do that for me?” You huff and shake your head. “I don’t fuck pigs, not into beastality, sorry.” You sweep all the files together into a disorganized bundle and turn back to him. “Let’s just get this the fuck over with so I don’t have to work with you again, agreed?”

“I wouldn’t fuck you even if you were the last woman on earth. Jesus, my cock would freeze off. Let’s get this over with so we never have to interact again.” He agrees and you nod, glaring at him before you stride out of the room. “Such a bitch.” He growls to himself, walking over to the box to pick up the last donut, taking a bite out of it with a huff.

****

At five minutes to nineteen hundred you were standing at the desk of the hotel, checking in. You had decided to do it yourself just to piss Pike off. “I’m so sorry.” You gush to the front desk clerk. “My husband is an idiot. Who knows where he is?” You shake your head and look around the lobby, knowing full well that you are earlier than you agreed on. “He’s lucky he’s got money.”

Marcus strides into the hotel lobby just as you are talking about “your husband” being late and he rolls his eyes until he is wrapping his arm around your waist. “Sorry I had to use the bathroom, baby. You get us checked in?” He asks, leaning in to kiss your cheek despite knowing you will absolutely hate it.

You barely keep from grimacing and pushing him away. “Perhaps you should see a doctor dear.” You take your credit card back from the front desk clerk. “Between constantly having to go to the bathroom and your erectile dysfunction, I’m starting to worry.”

Marcus pinches your side as he responds. “Hard to be aroused when your wife is as cold as the damn iceberg that took down the Titanic and her cooking? Christ, I think my stomach has finally given up on a well cooked meal. Thank you so much.” He grabs the key and your card before he strides off, leaving you at the desk.

The clerk seems unfazed by the comments, but you are sure they hear a lot. Gritting your teeth, you wheel the luggage that supposedly contains clothes but actually holds your computer and monitoring equipment. Following him to the elevator and ignoring him with the two of you waiting for the car to come to take you up to the room.

Marcus shakes his head as you wait, “you just can’t help yourself can you? Is it in your very being to act like a bitch? Or is that behavior especially reserved for me?” He huffs, gripping his own suitcase full of his laptop and comms.

“Oh, am I supposed to fall at your feet and worship the man who has done nothing but call me a bitch in front of colleagues?” You ask, arching a brow. “I might have called you an asshole, but nothing you have done since then has changed that opinion.” The doors to the elevator open and you pluck the key to the room out of his hand and climb on. “You can take the next one.” You tell him.

He huffs, shaking his head as the elevator doors close and he decides to get a snack from the bar downstairs before he goes up to the room. Taking more time than necessary just to piss you off. The team hasn't arrived yet so he doesn’t care if he’s late, usually he’s a stickler for time. When he opens the door to the hotel room, he grins at the look of annoyance on your face.

“So you do know you have a job to do.” You scoff, shaking your head at him as he pushes into the room. You made sure that your equipment took up as much space as possible. “It’s amazing you close any cases with a work ethic - or lack thereof - like yours.”

Marcus shakes his head as he sets his bag down. “Are you serious? I just- Jesus, you’re such a bitch. I went to get something to eat since we are gonna have a long night handling this case. Plus you enjoy insulting me every moment of the day and I just wanted some time before the abuse starts.”

You moan in disbelief. “Abuse?” You shake your head. “Like I’ve not been told that I’ve got a cunt that could freeze a man’s dick off. Or the other sexist bullshit that comes out of that oxygen sucking hole in your head.” Your own stomach growls and you had been anticipating ordering dinner from room service, but you’d be damned if you’d show him any weakness. “Go take a fuck at a flying donut, Pike.”

He growls, “I am not like this. I don’t - my mom raised me to be a gentleman but you just bring the fucking worst out in me. Goddamn you. You are a bitch. You’re rude and I- let’s just get this the fuck over with.” He hisses, working on taking his things out of the case.

You scoff, muttering to yourself about there’s no way that he’s a gentleman, but you don’t outright say it. It hurts that apparently you are the only one that he pours out nothing but bile and hatred for. “Just don’t fuck up my set up.” You tell him as you walk across the room to the bathroom. “The sooner I get away from you the sooner I can pull the stick out of my ass, right?”

He huffs, shaking his head. “Fine, let’s just get this over with.” He sets up his things, unable to stop himself from moving your items over just to piss you off. He hates how fucking rude you are and he hates how much you rile him up. When you come out of the bathroom, he’s set up and comms on to talk to his team.

You hiss when you see that he’s moved your equipment, clenching your jaw and wishing that you were stuck with anyone but him. Reaching over, you flip off his mic. “I told you not to touch it!” You tell him angrily. “It’s not the normal equipment you use to watch porn and jerk off to, it’s sensitive.”

“That’s what she said.” He quips, unable to maintain his adult composure around you when you bring out the worst in him. “Plus, I’m sure you struggle to find any porn that is sadistic enough for you. Oh wait…maybe something to do with icicles.” He snorts, tapping away on his keyboard.

“Whips and chains excite me.” You snark and roll your eyes. “You, however, have to bore a woman to death in bed.” You pull out a chair and sit down at your own area. “Bet you’ve never actually heard a woman cum.”

Marcus turns his head to look at you in disbelief. “Are you serious? You think- oh no, honey. I can make a woman cum. I know how to make a woman writhe with pleasure. The difference? Their cunts aren’t made of ice.”

You smirk, rolling your eyes and not believing a word he says. “You seem awfully obsessed with the temperature of my vagina.” You observe. “Projecting much?” Your eyes are on your screen and you start entering commands to watch the input of the RF reader on the art. “From all the compliments I’ve gotten, it’s hot. And like a fucking glove around a cock. Squeezing them like a vice.” You murmur.

He swallows harshly, wondering how your cunt would feel for a split second before he reminds himself of what a bitch you are. “That’s what they tell you before they cum? Oh sweetheart, they just wanted to get laid.” He tuts, typing in the directions to the location to text his op lead. “You’re just trying to console yourself when you haven’t gotten laid in a while.”

Your laugh is throaty. “No, it’s what I’m told when they are begging to be invited back to my bed again.” You taunt. “You can think what you want, Pike. If I tell you that it’s been awhile, I’m a prude. If it was three days ago, I’m a whore.” You give a small shrug. “Maybe I’ll call someone after we finish the op tonight. Use the room since it’s paid up.”

Marcus scoffs, “poor bastard.” He types another message and gets confirmation that the op is going ahead any moment. “Jesus Christ, sweetheart. You are a fucking nightmare.” He shakes his head and types away, trying to get this op started so he can get out of this room.

Ignoring him, you time your own computer and start monitoring, numbers and codes sliding across your screen and you try to find any patterns, initiating the programs to run searches. Pulling up profiles with names so you can eliminate civilians. From now on you are going to ignore Pike. Turning on a pre-recorded audio, you smirk when the sounds of people having sex start filling the room. Anyone walking by would think it was a couple who was just fucking the night away.

Marcus turns his head towards you, eyes wide. “Are you serious? Are you- what the fuck are you playing?” He shakes his head and you stare at him.

“We have to make people think we aren’t doing what we are doing in this room.” You explain like he’s a moron.

“And you thought sex noises would be the solution?” He rolls his eyes, “that’s ridiculous.”

Smirking to yourself, you enjoy how uncomfortable he looks as he tries to ignore the sounds. “I know you’re unfamiliar with it, but that’s the sound of someone - the woman - actually enjoying herself.” You educate him with a giggle when there’s a very loud moan and a curse coming from the audio. Apparently Marcus hadn’t read your outline of the op as thoroughly as he should have, because this was in there. It proves that he didn’t pay attention to details.

Marcus types aggressively, pissed off that you are taking this route to cover up your discussions about the op. “Well you could’ve picked some classical music or something less obnoxious. Besides, women who moan like that are clearly faking it, I want real moans. Authentic. Not that shit.” He gets confirmation that the op lead is approaching the target and he ignores the moans to focus on the job.

You snort, shaking your head at the idea that he was so controlling as to want to control the way a woman sounded when she was enjoying herself. Because that audio was all real, further proving he couldn’t, or didn’t, make any of his partners cum. Just to piss him off, you turn it up and smirk as you focus on your own job.

Marcus clenches his jaw, hating how you can piss him off just by breathing. "Do you enjoy it?" He asks, his fingers hovering over his keyboard.

"Do I enjoy what?" You huff.

"Annoying the shit out of me? Being a bitch? Living to frustrate me?" He turns to look at you.

You scoff, laughing at his disgruntled expression. “Since discovering what an absolute cunt you are? Yes.” You answer smugly. “I enjoy it. You deserve it. You honestly believe you are this nice guy, but you’re not.”

“I am a nice guy. You- you bring out the worst in me. Seriously, you’re a fucking asshole. Why are you so rude? Constantly making remarks and I’ve had enough of you. You’re a goddamn bitch and you think your shit doesn’t stink.”

“I’ve constantly made comments?” You push out of your chair and stand up. “Yes, I was rude when we had our entanglement in the parking lot, I was. But you-“ you scoff and shake your head. “You have done nothing but insult me, making sexual remarks, or belittle me for being a woman. I am sorry that I called you an asshole and flipped you off that day, but I’m even more sorry that I’ve ever had to put up with you!”

Marcus stands up, stepping closer to you as his chest heaves, and he growls, "You're such a fucking bitch." He steps even closer to you, making you look him in the eye, defiance clear in your narrowed glare.

"Fuck you." You hiss and he shakes his head.

"Fuck me? fuck - fuck - " He surges forward to press his lips to yours.

You gasp in surprise in surprise and then fury that he is kissing you. Especially after all the hateful bile he’s thrown at you. Instead of pushing him away, you kiss him back just as forcefully. Shoving your tongue into his mouth and grabbing onto his hair, making sure you yank on it as hard as you can.

Marcus grabs your waist, growling into your mouth as his hands squeeze hard into your flesh. His tongue tangled with yours, fighting for dominance and he is anxious to be the one in charge, sick and tired of you trying to dominate him.

You aren’t sure who started it, but soon the two of you are tearing at each other’s clothes. Ripping fabric and popping buttons in order to get to skin. The audio stops and the room is just filled with the harsh growls and moans from the two of you.

Once you’re both naked, Marcus walks you back towards the bed, his cock throbbing and hard as steel as he hisses your name when your nails scratch down his back. When you lay down, he grabs your throat, his cock pressed against your inner thigh and you react immediately, reaching up to slap him. He hisses once more, pressing you back into the bed, leaning forward to push his tongue into your mouth.

You bite his tongue, making him curse and jerk back but you drag him back down for another kiss. Nails digging into his skin and you squeal when he slaps your thigh hard enough that you are going to have a welt. Not that you care. You hate him and you need him inside you right now, spreading your legs wider and moaning when you feel the heavy length of his cock pressing up against your cunt.

He grunts, reaching between you to grip his cock and he positions himself at your entrance, pushing into you without much preamble. Uncaring if you are comfortable when he desperately needs to feel your hot cunt around his cock. He groans when he feels how wet and tight you are, so hot. “Like fucking ice.” He hisses, trying to control himself and insult you at the same time.

Growling, you slap him again, clenching down around him. “Are you inside yet?” You spit, making sure your nails drag down his back painfully. “I can’t feel you. Must be that small, huh? Poor thing.” You mock, knowing full well he feels incredible inside you. Damn him.

“Such a fucking bitch.” He hisses, grabbing your jaw and pushing you back into the mattress as he pulls out, surging back inside of you immediately. “Feel that? You love that cock inside of you. That’s what you wanted right?”

You rear up and bite his neck harshly when he lets go of your jaw, sucking so that you know you will leave a hickey. Not wanting him to be able to deny this happened. “You kissed me.” You remind him. “You’re the one constantly talking about my cunt.” You make sure you squeeze him with your inner muscles hard enough that he hisses, cock twitching inside you.

Marcus groans at how tight you are gripping his cock. “Yeah because I don’t know how anyone could fuck you.” He thrusts his hips a little deeper and harder to make you gasp.

You chuckle breathlessly, “yet here you are. Inside of me.”

He huffs, pinching your nipple. “And yet here you are, with my cock inside of you and you are soaking wet.”

Your back arches when he pinches your other nipple, a loud moan spilling out of your throat when he ducks his head down and bites it, sucking on the tender flesh harshly. Your legs tighten around his hips enough that it makes him hiss, his pace faltering for a moment before he shoves himself back into you forcefully. It’s rough and it’s harsh and you fucking love it. “Are you going to fuck me or what?” You’ve never had sex this rough before and yet you’re egging him on.

“You want me to fuck you?” He asks breathlessly and with a cocky grin. He shifts to kneel back on his haunches and grabs your thighs, tugging you closer and lifting your calves onto his shoulders. He leans forward and practically folds you in half before he starts rocking his hips at a dizzying pace.

You squeal, that pace, that angle makes every thrust feel like he’s punching deep inside you. Striking up against something wickedly wonderful that makes your toes curl every time he bottoms out. Your nails drag over his arms, his shoulders, his thighs. Everywhere you can reach and it feels like you will wear bruises for days where his fingers dig into your skin. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You hiss with every thrust of his hips, plunging deep and you are so close to cumming you could sob.

He grabs your wrists, securing them above your head with one of his hands to keep you from scratching him, pinning you fully to the bed. “You’re such a little whore for my cock. Hate me but you love my cock inside of you? Don’t you, baby?” He mocks how wrecked you look. His back is starting to ache but he won’t stop, desperate to feel you come apart around him.

“F-fuck you.” It sounds a lot less venomous when you are getting fucking railed, but you still hiss at him. “Your cock is really hard for this bitch, isn’t it?” You taunt, bucking up and clenching down around him. “M-maybe you like my ice c-cold cunt.”

He chuckles breathlessly, trying to impossibly thrust deeper and harder when you taunt him. “Hard because I like sex. Nothing - shit - nothing to do with you sweetheart. Like the goddamn arctic but beggars can’t be choosers.” He pants as he fucks you, wanting you to cum.

God, you want to slap him again. Pushing against him is useless because he’s leveraging his weight against your wrists. Instead you kick your heels against his ass right before you start to cum. Unable to stop yourself, you bite your lip to keep from crying out, walls clamping down on his cock as you soak him.

He hisses at the way you grip his cock like a goddamn vice. With a growl, he fucks you through it and seeks his own orgasm. “Hate you- hate you so much.” He pants, closing his eyes as he buries his cock deep and paints your walls with his cum.

Coming down from your orgams, you close your eyes and turn your head away, willing the moisture that had built up behind them suddenly to go away. Marcus’s hips are still rocking as he rides out his high. You don’t answer, you have nothing to say. So you just drop your legs from on his shoulders and wait for him to get off you.

Marcus pants, collapsing on top of you and he leans in to kiss your shoulder, silently thanking you for letting him touch you, but he knows you wouldn’t accept that. He knows you loathe him and he won’t change your mind. He shifts to get off of you, pulling out with a soft groan and shifting to lay down beside you.

Not waiting too long, you slip off the bed, escaping to the bathroom so you can clean up and have a moment away from Marcus. It’s too much right now and you need some space. Right before you close the door, there is an insistent knocking on the hotel room door.

Marcus scrambles off of the bed, pulling on his boxers and his undershirt to answer the door. His eyes widen when he sees a member of the hotel staff. “Good evening sir. We, uh, had some noise complaints.” He seems flustered and so is Marcus, unable to believe that people heard how he fucked you.

He rubs the back of his neck and blushes, “sorry about that. We will keep the noise down.” He tells the man who nods, rushing off to tell his manager. When Marcus shuts the door, he exhales shakily, unsure of what to do or say now that the hate sex is over.

You come out of the bathroom after cleaning up his cum, wearing a bath towel. As much as he hates you, you’re sure he doesn’t actually want to see your body or the reminder that he lowered himself to fuck you. Walking quietly over to the clothes so you can gather yours to get dressed again.

Marcus swallows harshly, watching you and unsure of what to say to you right now. He wants to apologize. He was rough and absolutely shouldn’t have slid inside of you without some kind of foreplay. “Are you okay?” He chokes softly until you turn to look at him so he clears his throat. “I didn’t - I didn’t hurt you?”

You shake your head, surprised that he even cares that he might have hurt you. “No.” You murmur softly. “You didn’t.” You want to ask if he’s disappointed that he didn’t, but you don’t want to spark off some new fight. “I should get dressed.” You turn away and your towel slips, showing the welt he had left on your thigh. A perfect handprint.

Marcus inhales sharply, feeling incredibly guilty for treating you like that. “I- I am so sorry.” He shakes his head and steps closer to you, “I shouldn’t - Jesus. I’ve never had sex like that and I- please talk to me.”

You choke, gripping the towel and covering yourself again. “I get it. Okay?” You tell him, whirling around to face him and trying not to do something stupid like fucking cry in front of him. “You hate me, I’m a bitch. I get it.” You shake your head. “Just- just let me get dressed and you can pretend it never happened. O-kay?” You hate that your voice cracks, hate that you are so emotional over a man that hates you.

Marcus shakes his head, “no. You- fuck. I don’t hate you. I was - I was angry that you cut me off and then gave me the finger. Anyone would’ve said the same thing but then you kept it up and I - shit. I wasn’t happy about it but I never hated you.” He admits, rubbing his neck.

“I kept it up?” You shake your head and sigh. “Yeah, sure. It was all me. You definitely didn’t insult me when you saw me just as much as I insulted you. Even in your office, asking for the case file, I was walking out and you called me a goddamn bitch.”

Marcus huffs, “you knocked over my pens on purpose.”

Shaking your head, you give him a surprised look. “I don’t have a clue what you are talking about. I’ve never knocked anything off your desk, but go ahead and blame me. I’m tired of fighting.” You sigh and close your eyes. “I just want to get dressed and do my job. Okay? Then you don’t have to worry about me anymore.” Turning around again, you walk back into the bathroom to get dressed, needing to get away from him.

Marcus nods, allowing you to head into the bathroom to get dressed. He hates it but what can he do? He has to talk through everything - something his exes hated - and when you come back out, fully dressed and sitting down at your computer, he feels defeated. You can’t even look at him. You hate him that much. He quickly redresses and sits down at his own computer, ready to finish this op and get the hell out of this hotel room. The op is thankfully a success and neither of you discussed anything other than the op and when you packed up your things, you leave the room without a word, making him sigh softly and head out alone. Tomorrow. He will talk to you tomorrow.

The next morning, you can’t stand the idea of getting dressed and going into work. Call you a chicken, call you a coward, but you can’t. You had gone home and cried, mortified that you had slept with Marcus, when he obviously didn’t like anything about you. Him telling you that he hated you right as he came was seared into your brain. So you send an email to your boss and another to Marcus. You had compiled all the evidence during the night when you couldn’t sleep. The case was done on your end anyway. The ball was in Art Crimes court.

Marcus strides into work with two coffees: one for him and one for you. He barely slept last night, going over and over again everything that happened the night before and he knows he has to set this right. The way he fucked you was wrong and so unlike him, he has to apologize and you need to talk about what happened. When he arrives at your office and finds the door locked and the lights off, he shakes his head. "Fucking coward." He mutters, tossing the coffee into the nearest trash can as he makes his way to his own office.

The next day you are back at work. Feeling better after a day of moping around your house. You hate that you couldn’t go in yesterday, but it had been too raw and you aren’t good at being vulnerable. Today though, you are going to do your best to just be professional.

Marcus tries again, bringing you another coffee and he’s surprised to see you in your office. “Good morning.” He announces himself at your threshold and your eyes flick up to meet his.

“Morning.” Your eyes flick back to your computer and he resists the urge to sigh.

“I got you a coffee.” He says, setting it down on your desk.

It’s fucking unfair how handsome he is. You had tried to convince yourself the entire time that you had been insulting him that he wasn’t handsome. Keeping your eyes on your computer screen, you remind yourself that he only said he didn’t hate you after he had seen the marks he put on your body, he doesn’t even know about the bruises that are tender on your hips every time you brush against them. He is just trying to make sure that you don’t report him to HR, even though you wouldn’t. It had been a mutual thing, what happened. “Thank you.” You murmur politely, trying to keep him from getting mad at you again. He had told you that everything you did pissed him off. “I have a lot of work to catch up on though, so I should get to it.”

Marcus stares at you, swallowing harshly, "I, uh, I will leave you to it." Defeated, he walks out of your office, shoulders slumped and he can't believe that you don't want to talk about what happened. The rest of the day passes by quickly despite his mind being distracted by you and your blatant dismissal of him.

You stick to your office all day, not even going to the break room. Spending the time that you weren’t working on the case and writing reports actually cleaning your office. By the time you turn off the light, every file is put away and your desk is cleared, looking like someone else works there. You make your way to the elevators, passing by Marcus’s office. His door is open, but you don’t look inside or stop, not wanting to hear any insults.

Marcus works late, not interested in going home to sulk about your lack of interaction. He has come to the awful realization that he doesn't actually hate you. You are smart, beyond capable at your job, and he knows he just held onto you calling him an asshole when you were aggressively driving. He never thought you were a bitch apart from your quips and insults which were mostly justified. He avoids you for a few days, not wanting to see you while he just processes what he is feeling. He needs time to figure all his emotions out.

Now you wonder why you ever bothered worrying about that jerk. You had tried to catch up to him several times in the hall to talk and he just seemed to disappear. You huff and look at your computer, reading the document that you had been drafting to send to the director’s office. “Boss, I’m hearing a rumor.” You look up to see Tillson in your doorway.

“Yeah? What’s the rumor?” Your stomach churns, wondering if the Art Crimes team had heard you and Marcus. If they were spreading it around the building. You hadn’t said a word to anyone. Although Marcus might have bragged about taming the icy cold cunt. You realize that since that night you had started thinking of him as ‘Marcus’ instead of just ‘Pike’.

“There’s a rumor that you are contemplating leaving.”

You roll your eyes and look back at the computer where your request for transfer was still being typed up, “goddamnit, stop installing keystroke software on my computer.” You grumble at him, sighing because now you will have to figure out how to develop a security patch for the system for whatever software he developed.

Marcus hears the rumor that you’re leaving when he heads into the break room for his afternoon coffee. His eyes widen and he shakes his head, unable to believe you’re that much of a fucking coward. He strides towards your office, coffee abandoned in the break room, and he walks in without knocking. “You’re leaving?” He asks.

You stand up quickly, startled that he’s barged into your office. “Well that didn’t take long to get around.” You mutter, wondering why the fuck he’s so bothered by it. “I haven’t submitted my request for transfers yet.” You admit, before remembering that he’s avoided you for the past few days. “I’ll let you know if I decide to. I’m sure that you’ll be happy and want to throw a party.” Your words don’t have the usual sting to them, and you - much to your horror - sound hurt by the prospect.

Marcus shakes his head, slamming his hands down on the desk to loom over you. “You can’t leave. You just can’t.”

You narrow your eyes, “why not? I can do whatever the hell I want.”

He shakes his head again, “no. You - you’re a good agent and I - shit. You just can’t go okay?”

“That’s a great reason.” You roll your eyes and shake your head. “I’ll decide if I want to leave or not. After spending the last three days trying to talk to you, only to have you fucking duck out of sight every time I came into view, I figured you would dance at the news.” You sneer, falling back into the familiar routine of being condescending around him. “You won, Pike. Congratulations.”

Marcus stares at you, knowing deep inside that the last thing he wants is for you to leave. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he doesn’t see you every day. “You can’t leave. I- I don’t want you to leave. I- fuck - I would miss you.” He admits and you scoff.

“You'd miss insulting me.”

He sighs, “insufferable.” You go to speak but he holds his finger up to stop you. “I would miss the way you hiss my name when you’re mad. I’d miss the scowl on your face when I use your newest coffee cup. I’d miss your utter chaos and lack of organization. I’d miss your laugh and your smile that you allow yourself to have when you think no one is watching. I’d miss your work ethic and the way you make 99.999% of men in the office look inadequate with how capable you are. I’d miss your hair when it’s all messy from a long day of work and I - I would miss you.” He finishes with a soft pant.

Your mouth drops open, staring at him in wide eyed shock. You can’t believe that he just said that to you. Listed those things that nearly make you stop breathing. “I- you-“ you stammer and shake your head. “You’d miss me? You were inside me, telling me how much you hated me.” You bite your lip, begging him for answers. If he’s fucking with you, you will be devastated.

He leans closer, "I told you that because...because I meant the opposite and I know you hate me. Loathe me. It has - I have never hated you, I just reacted to your insults and gave them back but you - you occupy every goddamn thought I have. Good or bad. You are always in my head and I - I don't hate you." He emphasizes, hoping you understand that he means the opposite.

“I never hated you.” You murmur softly. “I was pissed and in a hurry. I’ve got road rage.” You admit, flustering slightly and waving your hands. “I was reacting to you. I was pissed you were so fucking nice to everyone else but treated me like shit. So I was even meaner.”

“So neither of us hate each other? So why the hell have we been so horrible?” He asks, a soft smile on his face as he tilts his head. “I don’t hate you and I don’t want you to leave. The other night - I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“It was memorable.” You admit, giving him back a smile of your own. “I’ve never - it’s never - it was really good.” You manage to get out shyly. “Different and yet, really good.”

“I’ve never been that rough.” He confesses, biting his lip as he leans down a little more. “I didn’t - I don’t know where I came from. I just needed to dominate you.” He admits, flustered because he never did that kind of thing with his exes.

You give a small laugh. “You did, I felt it for days after.” You admit, remembering how tender you had been afterwards when you took a bath that night. “So I guess….we’re okay now?” You ask, unsure of what he wants from you. You’ve never been this uncertain of a man before, but you’ve had a hard time figuring him out.

Marcus stares at you, those dark brown eyes burning into you for a moment. “We’re okay. More than okay. I just - would you want to get dinner with me tonight?” He asks, having never been one to beat around the bush.

It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask him if he plans on poisoning you, just to hear him huff, but you don’t. Instead you smirk and give a small shrug. “On one condition.”

Marcus frowns at you. “What’s that?”

Your smirk gets a little wider. “Use the cuffs this time, Pike.”

Marcus smirks, leaning even closer until his lips brush yours. “Yeah? You want me to cuff you and make you cum again and again.” He hums, leaning back a breadth so he can look into your eyes. “I’ll book dinner.” He promises, “then I’ll use my cuffs on you while my tongue is buried inside of you.”

“It’s about time you put that tongue of yours to good use.” You tease, even as you shudder in anticipation. “What time?”

“Seven?” He asks and you nod. He taps your desk, “I’ll pick you up. No road rage if you’re not driving. Don’t be late.” He winks at you.

“I will be late if I want to be.” You sass and he tuts.

“You’re such a bitch.”

You smirk, “but you love it.”

He grins, “I do.” He leans in to kiss you softly. Short and sweet considering you’re still both at work. “Pick you up at 7.” He murmurs before leaning back to stand up straight.

You nod, “it’s a date.”

He chuckles, “who would’ve thought we’d be going on a date?”

You shake your head, “not me.”

He smirks, “your fault for being a bitch.” He jokes and you shake your head.

“Asshole.”

He winks at you, “you love it.” With one last look, he exits your office and you watch him go, unable to believe you are going on a date with your enemy. He’s your lover from now on.

#pedro pascal #marcus pike #marcus pike the mentalist #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike smut #marcus pike imagine

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tonberry-yoda · 2 years ago

Text

Comforting - DIO

Pairing - DIO x f!reader

Warnings - blood

Word Count - 912

Notes - the random motivation to write for DIO just washed over me and i knew that i had to. i absolutely love this fabulous neon vampire

And don’t forget, REQUESTS ARE OPEN! So if you want to request any writing, please don’t hesitate to ask, but please read my��pinned post before requesting! Please enjoy!! Don’t forget to stay hydrated! <3

She jerked awake, breathing heavy. Where was she? She couldn't remember the night before. It was all a blur. Her head felt like it was going to explode and her body was sore. What happened? She sat on her knees, trying to compose herself. She didn't want to panic herself trying to remember yesterday's events. She took a deep, calming breath and looked around the dark room. Nothing. She couldn't remember anything. She sighed and slumped back down on the floor, her hair and limbs sprawled out around her.

She winced at a sudden pain in her neck. “Ow. What the hell?” She reached up to find where the pain was coming from, but it somehow caused even more pain. She stood up, trying to see if she could find a mirror, but there was nothing. Nothing but the moon shining in through a small window. She felt her neck again and looked down at her hands. Blood. She was bleeding? How… and why?

“Do you like it?” She jumped at the sudden deep voice that echoed around her small room. “Like it? Like… what?” She didn't know how she built up the courage to respond, she was shaking to death. “The mark.” The voice was somehow… soothing. Like she could listen to it and become calm. But her shaking hands said otherwise. She needed answers, and she feared that this untrustworthy voice had those answers. “Mark?” The voice chuckled. “So you haven't seen it yet?” “Seen… what?”

She saw a man appear, as if from nowhere, into her room. Now she remembered. That blonde hair. Those eyes. That… body. “D-DIO?” DIO chuckled and walked up to her, grabbing her chin with his forefinger and thumb, bringing her head up to look at him. She forgot just how tall he really was. “You look cute with them.” He rubbed his thumb over her teeth, making her pull back. She ran her tongue over her teeth and gasped. How did she not notice before? Her canines, which were once dull, were now sharp and extruding. “DIO, what have you done?” He just giggled and grabbed her hand, pulling her behind him.

“What did you do?! Answer me, DIO! And where are you taking me?!” “To a mirror, silly. I want you to see just what I've done to you.” She swallowed, tasting blood. She must’ve bitten her own lip without noticing. How dare he. DIO acted like he owned the world. Owned her. It wasn't her fault that he had taken a liking to her. That she was the only girl strong enough to tell him where to shove it. She didn't know that it would end up turning her into a literal vampire.

“So? Do you like it?” She walked up to the full length mirror, the only light around her being the moonlight and dim candles that shimmered off of the rhinestones on the edges of the mirror. She saw blood trickling down her neck, which had a bite mark like something out of an old Dracula film. But he was a traditional vampire, so how did he… “Well?” She turned to him, confused, angry, sad, she didn't even know what she was feeling anymore. “Why?” Her voice came out more of a squeak than words. A faint whisper. She didn't even notice the tears sliding down her face. She was confused and wanted to just curl up all alone, not be pulled into something like this. “Why? That’s not the reaction I wanted. I generously gave you some of my own blood for this. You should be thankful.” “Thankful? You want me to be… thankful?! Are you crazy?! First you lock me in a room, and then you make me… IMMORTAL?! Are you out of your mind?!” “For you, I must be out of my mind.” He tried reaching out to cup her cheek, but she smacked his hand away, sad tears now becoming rageful ones. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” “What’s wrong with me? Don't you dare talk to me like that! If it weren't for me, you would be homeless on the streets of Cairo right now and you know it!” She froze. He was right. She was all alone. Scared. Dying. But he found her. Gave her a home. She thought it was just so he could get her stand and its power, but he was kind. Maybe not the best host, but kind. “You’re obsessed with me, DIO.” “Is that really so wrong?” DIO cupped her cheek, wiping away a falling tear. “What if I don't want to live forever?” “You’ll be with me.” He leaned down to her level and pet her hair with his available hand. “What if I don't want to be with you?” “Where else would you go?” He was right. She really didn't have another choice.

DIO brought her face closer to hers and looked into her shining eyes. “Don't be afraid. I promise I won't make immortality boring.” She couldn't help giggling a bit, bringing a smile to DIO’s face. “Are you going to be alright, love?” She nodded. To be honest, she didn't know if she would be, but she had to trust herself, and for some reason, she was screaming ‘stay’. DIO placed his lips to hers, their sharp teeth brushing against one another’s. She didn't even think about pushing away, if anything, she sank into the kiss. She couldn't help that his presence was comforting.

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elysianslove · 4 years ago

Text

secrets that you keep; iwaizumi hajime

synopsis; in which his best friend is secretly a camgirl. part 1, part 2

pairings; iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

genre; smut

trigger warnings; i highly recommend reading the first two parts before this. they’re only drabbles that introduce everything! anyways, this is absolute filth. don’t read this if any of the stuff mentioned could trigger you, please! masturbation, camgirl stuff, one mention of the word ‘daddy,’ self choking, degradation, humiliation, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, a lot of choking, accidental breathplay, not proofread unfortunately

she knows.

does she?

it’s an ongoing inner battle he’s been having for weeks now, ever since he’d been directed to that trending video of yours. he sees you in his dreams, hears you loud and clear, moaning and crying for him, and worst of all, he feels you, so perfectly, against his, around him, and it’s overwhelming in the worst way possible. even maintaining eye contact is tiresome at this point.

but he does wonder whether you know or not, more often than he should— were you deliberately calling out for him, in hopes that he’d find this video somehow? or had you said it because you’d assumed this is your safe place, that there’s no way he’d be able to find these videos? had it been a slip up? or, more accurately, multiple slip ups? what were the chances anyways, that it had been an accident, or unintentional, or intentional and he had been losing sleep over it, or that he wasn’t the hajime you were crying out for?

his heard hurt. awfully. there’s already the constant worry of regulating his breathing around you and cleansing his thoughts of anything he’d seen of you the moment you meet, but this added dilemma is in no way helping. every day that you text him for a coffee date, or a night out after a rather stressful week, or a night in at your apartment, and he agrees, his mind diverts immediately to where it shouldn’t as soon as he lays eyes on you. and the worst part of it all is how aware he is of how wrong this is. he knows it’s wrong to choose the revealing shirt over the other when you ask him for his opinion, just because he wants that effortless glance at your cleavage. it’s also so wrong of him to give a higher rating to that obscenely short dress than that other, knee length one because of the way your thighs squeeze when you sit. it’s definitely wrong of him to offer clasping your anklet, the one he’d gotten for you, the one that had been the dead giveaway to your secret online persona, just because your legs feel so soft against the rough pads of his fingers, when he resists the urge to trail upwards, upwards, upwards—

it’s fucking ridiculous.

he can’t believe just how deep of a rabbit hole finding one of your videos is, how it’s impossible to climb out and away, and even worse, how he keeps falling deeper. the one time he decides to jerk off to porn. it’s really ridiculous.

about a week ago, three weeks after finding that video of yours someone had uploaded— which had been taken down because of copyright, and hajime personally thinks that’s fair, considering there’s a reason you pay people to watch your videos and look through your photos, otherwise you would’ve taken the liberty to post everything for free yourself— hajime gives in, and subscribes to you. it’s with a randomized account name, something he tried his very best to make as anonymous as possible, so that it would in no way lead back to him. he doesn’t check in on your account as often, also having taken the time to turn off notifications and not have anything sent to his email, and it’s mostly out of shame. he already feels dirty enough having seen this much of you, even more that he’s fantasized about you. he’s not about to make it worse for himself.

every once in a while, though, especially days where he’s sure he’s completely free of responsibilities, he logs on, and finds your page. it just so happens that tonight, you’re hosting a live stream. swallowing his pride and shame, literally so, he shifts on his bed, sitting up straighter, and clicks to join.

he’d been a little late apparently, because you’re already bare, sitting on a chair. your legs are lifted up, knees bent and hooked over the chair’s arms, the camera angled to show everything, from your cute eyes to the flesh of your ass. there’s a vibrator in your hand, buzzing lightly as it hovers by your clit, dipping between your folds, sliding back up again to rub lazily at your clit. beneath you, on the chair, is a small damp spot, leaking from your cunt. hajime stops himself before his jaw falls slack at the sight of you, and instead, he clears his throat, gritting his teeth and watching carefully.

you’re not so talkative during your videos, just exclamations of pleasure and (the most beautiful of) noises, so he hadn’t expected you to be during your lives. to his surprise, you are, and it’s filthy.

whimpering lightly, you press the vibrator harsher on your clit, your other hand traveling up to squeeze at your breast. “m’so needy,” you admit with a soft pout, adding, “want you to tell me what to do, mmh.”

he’s assuming the ‘you’ is the audience, whoever’s willing to speak up, and it’s then that he notices the chat option. his eyes flicker curiously to it, hands twitching where they sit fisted at his lap as he sees the chat explode with orders and commands and suggestions for you.

one writes, stuff urself full, and hajime gapes.

another commands, wanna see u cry tn, and hajime privately agrees.

someone else writes, gonna squirt princess?

hajime’s hands twitch again, and he frowns, digging his nails into his palms. you’re ignoring all the suggestions, and it’s obvious because you’re reading through them, mouthing some of them, giggling at some, curiously gasping, ‘oh,’ at others, eyebrow quirking. the vibrator trails down to your hole again, and you experimentally dip it inside slightly, shivering visibly as the vibrations rush through you, and the moment he hears you moan so loud, he thinks, fuck it, and his hands reach for his keyboard.

choke yourself.

fuck, fuck, fuck, he did not just do that.

his heart is racing embarrassingly fast beneath his ribcage, loud and pathetically deafening in his ears as he watches your eyes read through the rest of the messages, and you’ve stopped mouthing them, your eyes are widening— which one are you at now? are you just going to ignore him? why wouldn’t you? of course you—

“you’d like that, huh?” you teasingly slur, a lazy, cheeky grin painting your lips, your teeth biting down on your lower lip and your hand— your hand—

it’s trailing upwards, upwards, upwards, until it finds its way around your throat, resting lightly, and just as he sees your fingers squeeze at the sides of your neck slightly, carefully, you pout at the camera, looking straight at him, and asking, “like this, daddy?”

a low fuck wheezes past his lungs, and his hand quickly presses down at the bulge in his sweatpants, squeezing and rubbing at his clothed dick as he watches you, entranced. people watching you with him have taken to thanking him for the idea, and to praising you, calling you a good girl, cursing, rapidly typing out something along the lines of you’re so hot i wanna fuck you so bad, and god, hajime hates that he relates to something as stupid as that.

your hips roll and your head falls back, hand not once leaving your throat. if anything, your grip tightens. you click on the vibrator, and the buzzing becomes louder, your moans with it, as if you were competing. you cry and gasp and sob, writhing in your own hold, your thighs tensing and your hole clenching around nothing as you harshly rub the vibrator against your clit. your cunt gushes and drips as you bring yourself closer to your orgasm, as you cry out a string of, “m’gonna cum, so close, so close!” and a mixture of lewd curses, until finally, you cum. you’re sent over the edge, legs swinging on the chair, high pitched squeals falling from your lips— which hajime can’t decide are real or not, or whether he wants them to be or not. you thrash and cry, tears, as promised to some other watcher, dripping down your cheeks.

the last straw however, is your comedown from your high, sobs hiccuping and muscles twitching, eyes half closed and body limp as you mewl out, “hajime, hajime, hajime,” like you’re not even aware you’re doing it. like it’s subconscious.

hajime swears again, a deep, low, “fuck,” and looks down to find a damp spot on his lap. he really came from barely any friction, all because of you. this really is as ridiculous as it gets.

the next time he sees you, there are the faintest of bruises on your neck. it’s not so obvious that just anyone would notice, but ever since becoming hyperaware of everything that is you and everything that you do, it’s hard not to have them be the first thing he sees. to ensure that the atmosphere between the two of you remains easy, he flicks at your neck and tuts with a smirk, asking you jokingly if you were in your hoe phase.

“so vulgar, hajime,” you sarcastically retort, teasing him. “you like calling me mean things?” and he has to avert eye contact because all his walls crumble so quick.

it’s just the two of you tonight, in his apartment, all your other mutual friends having cancelled at one point or another. it’s not an unusual occurrence; more often than not, the two of you are alone. however, it’s been a while since you’d been alone, privately. a while meaning ever since hajime had discovered your side hustle of a sort. he hadn’t been purposely avoiding this— no, maybe he has, but to be fair, he’s still yet to recover from the initial shock.

it also doesn’t help that since today had meant to be a relaxing night in, you’re dressed casual, but in the hottest fucking way possible. he hopes he hadn’t been blushing as hard as he thinks, and feels, he was, when you’d first stepped into his home. on your hips is a short, black skirt, flowing out to your upper thighs, where just above your knees start a pair of dark thigh highs, squeezing at your thighs and accentuating your legs as you strut around his apartment, feet bare of any shoes or slippers. he can’t decide whether it’s cute or just plain hot. somehow, with you, it’s both. your shirt is off the shoulder, a dark, navy blue bardot, and beneath it, peeking out to rest at your collarbones, is a black bralette. he can barely just see the intricate lace designs, but it disappears and dips beneath your shirt before he can see more of it.

you’re spread out on the couch, laying along it on your stomach, a pillow tucked in your arms and beneath your head, your clothed legs bent and swinging up in the air. he sits right by you, thigh right by your head, his body as tense as ever. it’s impossible not to be you, not with you in such close proximity to him when only a few days ago he’d watched you make yourself cum, and had heard you whimper out his name after. who can blame him, really?

with your eyes trained on the screen, he hadn’t been expecting you to speak up.

“iwa, what type of porn do you watch?”

he nearly chokes, eyes widening as he spares you a glance. your legs continue to swing innocently, your eyes unmoving, your voice unwavering. the suddenness of the question certainly threw him off, but it’s your nonchalance that really shocks him. but, considering everything, it really shouldn’t have.

“uh, what?” he offers weakly, wincing slightly at the barely there crack in his voice.

you sigh, shifting to sit up. you plant yourself on your knees, spreading them apart slightly to get comfortable, and shrugging at him. “i’m just curious,” you say. “or,” your eyes squint cautiously, your head cocking to the side slightly, “do you not watch porn?”

challengingly, his arms lift up to cross at his chest, and he doesn’t miss the way your eyes momentarily glance at the way his biceps bulge. it makes his confidence spike slightly, nervousness ebbing away. “what type of porn do you watch?”

you gasp dramatically, joking, “take a girl out to dinner first, my god.” he laughs, relaxing lightly at the banter, before his eyes fall back to you. you inch forward curiously, cautiously, still on your knees. now closer to him, you ask again, “seriously, i’m really curious! confirm my suspicions for me.”

“oh?” he quirks an eyebrow. “so you think you know?”

at this, you offer him a knowing smile, eyes slightly half lidded. you’re somehow even closer now, leaning towards him with your hands resting on the small space between you and him in the couch, helping you in lifting yourself up slightly on your knees as you say in a low voice, “baby, i think everyone knows.”

at the sight of you by his side, he feels himself shiver, and an idea invades his mind before he can even process it. “oh, do you now?” he’s not sure where this boldness is emerging from, especially with how cautious and shameful he’d been and felt for weeks now, but he accepts it either way, because the way you’re staring at him like that, he never wants to let it go. and although he wants to drag out this intense eye contact even longer, in order to do what he wants to do, he has to break it, reaching for his phone instead. unable to contain your curiosity, you peak over, watching with confusion as he types out a link.

the blood drains from your face when you recognize your page on his browser, and he’s logged on— he’s subscribed.

“what type of porn do i like to watch?” he wonders rhetorically. the phone is pushed aside, and he sits up straighter so that even on your knees, he looms over you. his eyes are skimming over you, along your body, up to your neck, to your lips, to your shocked, wide eyes. and just as his hand trails up to your throat, his palm resting at the base and one finger tapping lightly, he says, “the type where my favorite girl cries out my name when she cums for the world to see.”

the hand around your throat—

“you,” you breathe out, and finally, finally, when your brain makes sense of everything, your body relaxes, sags against him, leaning more into him until his hand’s properly wrapped around your throat.

with your mind hazing over, you reach over, and kiss him.

he meets you halfway, as if having expected it, lips pressing harshly against his. his hand tightens as he pulls you closer, lifting you up slightly and bringing you closer to him as his mouth parts, breathing you in, and kissing you deeper, lewder. you shiver and gasp, hands grasping at his wrist and forearm, not to push him away but rather to urge him closer, as you kiss him back just as eagerly. it seems like hours, with his hand around your neck, tight and a daunting reassurance, and your lips wet and hot against his, but eventually, his hand slides down, the other mirroring it, finding their way to your waist, squeezing and bunching at the skirt as he, with complete and utter and shocking ease, lifts you up off the couch.

you gasp as he stands up with you, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist as he pulls you to him. as he blindly walks the two of you to his bedroom, he breathlessly asks in between your kisses, “is this— you sure this is okay?”

with a sharp tug at his hair, you jokingly spit out, “iwa shut up.”

he tosses you onto the bed, allowing you a minute to strip yourself of your shirt while he slips out of his own, before quickly falling above you, caging you in with his arms as he kisses you again. “not iwa,” he quietly asks of you.

for a moment you’re confused, before everything clicks again— your slip ups— and your legs lift up, wrapping around his waist and pulling his hips closer to yours just as you mewl out, “hajime, please.”

god, he is way easier than he thought he was.

his entire body shudders above you, one hand lowering to push at your skirt to grind his hips down against yours until his clothed crotch meets your bare cunt and— holy fuck, holy fuck.

“fuck, you slut.”

you gasp at both his words and the feel of his bulge pressing down against your clit, his lips meeting your neck instead. “you do like calling me mean things,” you say, and he scoffs, his hand traveling upwards to squeeze at your breasts instead.

“you like me calling you mean things,” he notes, and you let out a muffled moan as he pinches at your nipples through the bralette, lips biting and sucking at your neck.

“i do,” you pant, arching up into him. “i do, i do.” his hands are fumbling at your chest, and god, they’re so large, so big and warm and harsh, it’s fogging up your brain.

“yeah, yeah, fucking whore,” he growls, pushing himself slightly on his knees, hands tugging at the bralette. his fingers dip past, gripping the fabric tightly, and as he says, “can’t fucking— take this shit— off,” he tears through it, knuckles whitening as he pulls it away from your body, or what’s left of it. the frills of the ruined bra fall off the edge of his bed, and he watches your wide eyes and gaping mouth follow it, so he grabs at your jaw, twisting your gaze away from it and grunting a low, “shut up.”

you pull away from the kiss, breathing heavily as you say, “that was so fucking hot, hajime,” before kissing him again. he parts his mouth as you lead him to you again, tongue easily meeting yours.

it’s a messy kiss as he slips himself out of his sweatpants, taking his boxers with it and discarding them somewhere in his room. his cock slaps against his stomach, a single string of precum messily staining his tan abs. your eyes are quick to gaze down, lips painted a dazzling grin as his hand finds his cock, squeezing at the head and smearing his precum along.

“knew you were fucking big,” you gasp, eyes trained on him as he strokes himself above you, and he is. he’s so big, thick and heavy, and veiny and your mouth waters at how that’s going to feel when inside of you, stretching you out so good, so much better than any of the toys you had at home. “i thought,” a squeal hiccups out of you as both of his hands grab at your hips from beneath your skirt, one sticky and warmer than the other, “about you all the time.”

your confession draws his attention, and when he’s pulled you close enough, two of his fingers trail to your cunt, quirking an, “oh?” just as he dips his fingers inside. the lack of resistance he’s met with is surprising, and he chokes out, “did you stretch yourself out before coming here? fuck yourself on some fake cock?”

tightlipped, you moan, brows furrowed and back arched into him. god, his fingers were not enough. “yes, yes,” you gasp, head falling back. despite not needing to, he still fingers you, his thick digits fucking into you slowly, driving you insane by the second. “yes, i— pretended t’was you,” you whine loudly. at your words, he curls his fingers inside of you, twisting his wrist and pressing his palm directly on your clit.

“do you always?” he lowly asks, dipping closer to you as he fucks his fingers deeper. his fingers were inside of you, the cunt he’d spent over a month marveling at through a screen, the pretty pussy his dick had drooled over for hours. you’re real, as real as ever beneath him falling apart, making a mess of your black skirt, drenching it with your arousal.

you moan out a hum, nodding dumbly as his fingers vibrate with the intensity of speed inside of you, your toes curling in your thigh highs and face twisting to press into his mattress. “always,” you cry out, like a promise. “always think of you— hajime!”

it’s an unexpected orgasm, hitting you so fast and quick that it’s outright dizzying. it has you lifting your hips up into his fingers and palm, grinding and trembling, your legs falling and spreading open, shaking wildly by your side and above you as he fucks you through the orgasm.

“hajime, hajime, hajime,” you chant, words trailing off into tiny sobs and shuddering breaths as your hips slowly fall back onto the bed, body still trembling with aftershocks.

you’re fucked out beyond words already that you genuinely don’t feel a thing until he’s pressing inside of you, the fat head of his cock stretching you out. he’s really no match for your toys, and if seeing him hadn’t been enough confirmation, the feel of him pressing inside of you definitely is. he doesn’t ease himself in slowly, urgently grabbing the back of your thighs with either hand, keeping your legs spread for him as he bottoms out.

“fuck, fuck, knew you’d feel so good,” he grunts, brows furrowed harshly as he digs his fingers deeper against the flesh of your thighs, forcing your legs closer to your chest, and somehow pushing himself even deeper within you. you whine and mewl, toes curling and uncurling and legs trembling. “knew it the moment i saw your pretty pussy creamin’ around that thick cock.”

at the reminder that he’s watched and witnessed you, multiple times, that he’s subscribed to you willingly and curiously, you clench down around him. you feel him twitch inside of you, groaning loudly as he falls closer to you, your legs falling to his waist.

“you like knowing i was watching you?” he sneers, his hand reaching up and gripping at your face, squishing your cheeks and forcing a pout on your lips. your eyes nearly fucking cross as he rams into you, his fingers digging into your jaw. “you like that i fucked my fist every night to you? to your pretty cunt and your pretty noises and your pretty face— yes, good girl, that one.”

your eyes do cross this time, spurred on by his words, your tongue peaking out through the small gap he allows with how harsh he’s gripping your face. he’s pushing out little mewls and cries from you, but otherwise, you quite honestly feel braindead.

“fuck, you’re a gorgeous little slut,” he gasps. “all mine to fuck and use.”

you’re quick to nod rapidly, whining and moaning for him as you grip at his biceps. you’re choking on your breath as you struggle to keep up with him while he fucks you into the mattress, so fucking hard and rough that you’re sure there’ll be an indentation of you once you leave. you can feel your cunt gushing, and you can hear it too, squelching loudly with every thrust of his hips, every time his cock fucks into you. your skirt feels sticky and gross, and so does the rest of you, but you’ve never, never, felt this euphoric, this blissed out.

your stomach tightens impossibly, the tension gradually increasing as your walls tightly squeeze and clench at his cock. slowly and surely, the pressure within you increases, your hands flying to hajime’s arm, the arm whose hand grips your face, which quickly moves to your throat at your simple gasping warning that you were close.

“gonna cum, gonna cum, hajime, fuck!”

he tightens his grip, pressing harsher on the sides of your neck as your eyes shut tightly, your head falling back once more.

“yeah, come on, show me how pretty you look cumming on a real cock,” he whispers by your ear, using the hand that’s around your throat to lift up your head, before roughly pushing it back down, squeezing tighter. “you like it this rough?— shit, shit, you’re tightening.”

you scream, voice cracking and broken as he slams into you again, his hips grinding against yours momentarily, pelvis hitting your clit— and you’re gone, thrashing in his hold, fat tears streaming down your cheeks as you sob and heave, your body shaking uncontrollably beneath him, hips shaking as your orgasm rocks through you. it’s not a few seconds later that he’s spilling inside of you, accidentally pressing his palm down against your throat as he cums, blocking your airway momentarily.

“hngh,” he gasps deeply, cock twitching inside of you as he cums, hips barely grinding. you’re gasping, a little painfully, struggling to take in any air as he blinks dazedly, before he finally takes notice. “shit, shit, i’m sorry.”

his hand flies away from your throat, and you inhale sharply, coughing lightly as air fills your lungs all too suddenly. the strength of this man, holy fuck.

“i’m so sorry; are you okay?”

chest still heaving, you fall onto the bed, body relaxing as you try and regulate your breathing. “s’okay, i’m okay,” you reassure him, hands reaching up to pat at his cheeks and comb through his messy, sweaty hair.

he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and it’s so endearing that you nearly forget he’s still inside of you. but you feel the shift of his cock, feel his cum slowly start to ooze out of your cunt, and he winces from the oversensitivity, shifting away to instead pull out of you. his soft cock falls from your cunt, a steady flow of his cum following. hajime has to physically resist from reaching out to fuck it back into you.

“i’m sorry i wasn’t careful ‘nough with the—“ he makes a gesture with his hands around his neck, “—the choking.”

you laugh lightly, tiredly, hands slowly caressing at his sweaty biceps. “stop apologizing,” you reassure him again, shrugging with a small smile as you add, “just be more careful next time.”

his breath gets caught in his chest, and he only softly exhales when he falls on the bed, to your side, carefully repeating, “next time.”

from beside him, you lift yourself up on your side on your elbow, palm cradling your head, trying your best not to wince in pain. “hajime?”

he spares you a glance as he mumbles, “hm?” opting to stare at the ceiling and contemplate whether what had just happened was real life or not.

“do you wanna do a video with me?”

he all but chokes.

end note; please this took me like 4+ hours. please please please don’t flop, and more importantly, i really hope i don’t disappoint. i know this has been a long awaited piece, so i’m praying and hoping you guys love it.

love you all, mwah <3

#haikyuu smut #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime smut

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brushstrokesapocalyptic · 3 years ago

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it’s time for the “overanalyzing one-off lines” show!

so the very first thing magnus says when he sees pit in chapter 2 of kid icarus: uprising is as follows:

“Well, I didn’t expect to see an angel here. Hope this doesn’t mean I’ve kicked the bucket.”

now, i’m not sure if you’re aware, but that’s a really weird thing for someone to say, and it’s even more weird that no one comments on it. pit and palutena go on talking about unrelated things, as if that’s a totally normal and expected thing for magnus to say.

now, if you’re like me, you probably also didn’t really react to this line the first few times you saw it. it’s the second chapter, kiu has a lot of slightly-odd lines which turn out to be foreshadowing. me, personally? my first thought was “oh, i guess angels are probably associated with escorting the dead to the afterlife,“ and then i moved on.

they’re not, though. that’s what reapers do. and there’s no way humans have these two races mixed up. just fucking look at them.

do they look anything alike to you??? no. they don’t. which raises the question of why, exactly, magnus said that.

now, we don’t know a lot about angels as a whole. pit (and by extension dark pit) is emphatically not the gold standard of angeldom. we can assume he looks fairly ordinary for an angel, seeing as no one has trouble identifying him as such. beyond that, though, a lot of what we know about angels comes from what pit isn’t. for starters, he can’t fly. and there’s something else, too, but i’ll get to that later.

before that, though, i’m gonna go through the various unsubstantiated comments made by people with a dubious level of authority on the subject. (incidentally, i sourced these screenshots from the wiki— much more convenient than trying to dig through youtube for every single random conversation.)

without any further ado! let’s get into it!

Angels as Messengers

Gaol: Aw, Palutena’s little messenger boy. And Magnus, it’s always a pleasure. (src)

in the specific context of overanalyzing magnus’s first line, this is an important sentence to pick out. magnus and gaol are both humans, both with presumably a fairly similar history as mercenaries up until gaol got stuffed in a suit of armor. but while magnus makes a weird comment about death, gaol calls pit a messenger.

and pit agrees with her!

Viridi: I wish I had an angel to do my bidding. It’s like having an intern.

Pit: I’m not an intern. I’m a messenger of the gods!

Viridi: Poor Pit. Don't you know that the definition of angel is "errand spirit"? (src)

this particular conversation is the most insight we get into angels as a whole, i think. viridi thinks of angels as like divine interns, there to do little tasks for gods, and palutena doesn’t exactly disagree with her. pit says they’re specifically messengers, which lines up with biblical mythology. i could see the traditional role of angels in the world of KI being exactly that, showing up to tell the humans what the gods have to say because the gods themselves are too busy being petty jerks to do it themselves.

The Angel’s Code of Conduct

Magnus: You go in fully dressed? Don't you at least want to change into a...swimming tunic or something?

Pit: Oh, no no no! The angel's code of conduct says that we must always be ready for duty.

Magnus: I guess you wouldn't be an angel if you didn't do things by the book. (src)

Pit: Hey! You know the angel's code of conduct! I need to be prepared at all times! (src)

another random little thing is the angel’s code of conduct. without a larger sample size, we can’t know if it’s a real thing or just an excuse to save on laundry, but apparently it’s against the rules to not be on call at all times. in pit’s case, the duty he has to be ready for is doing palutena’s dirty work, but it can easily mean just about anything— including, of course, being a messenger.

No Warrior

Chariot Master: But you are no warrior, angel. Tell me, why do you fight?

Pit: I fight for Lady Palutena. And I fight for the people under her protection!

Chariot Master: That's not reason enough for an angel. (src)

remember how i said there was something else weird about pit? the chariot master seems to think angels aren’t very prone to battle— or perhaps even that they’re actively opposed to it. this lines up well with the idea that they’re supposed to be messengers, peaceful go-betweens for gods and mortals. this does not line up well with pit, the adorable weapon of mass destruction.

and it also does absolutely nothing to explain the question driving the whole existence of this post.

you know what does kinda lean towards an explanation?

No Other Angels

Pit: Do all gods have their own angels, like you have me?

Palutena: No, I don't think that's necessarily the case. (src)

i said before that the Intern Pit conversation had the most illuminating information on angels. this is what i was actually referring to. on its own, it’s pretty innocuous, but it’s just as weird as the magnus line. shouldn’t pit know about other angels, seeing as he is one himself? but he doesn’t know if there are other angels.

the only angels we ever see are him and his clone. no one ever directly references the existence of other angels, they only make general statements about what angels as a whole are like— statements which clearly don’t apply to pit, meaning they’re not just extrapolating based on the one angel that definitely does exist.

the one time someone does comment on the hypothetical existence of other angels, palutena gives a vague answer to the tune of “no,” the topic is changed, and no one brings it up again.

let’s go over everything i’ve established about angels up to this point. they can fly, they’re peaceful messengers of the gods, and pit is the only one that seems to exist as of the start of KIU.

it should be pretty obvious at this point what answer i’m dancing around, if it wasn’t obvious from the start. pit is the only angel around because all the other ones are dead. the reason why magnus said what he did is that his thought process went something like this:

See an angel.

Think “Aren’t angels extinct? Is that a ghost? Am I a ghost? I sure hope not.“

Make a quip about that.

Move on with his life, because he isn’t dead and evidently neither is this guy.

i’m not gonna pretend i went into this post with the intent of any other conclusion to that mystery. anyone who’s bothered glancing over a plot summary for the original kid icarus can draw that conclusion. it’s certainly what i did, reinforced by fics by people who had the same thought!

the truth, however, is that this was all a trick to get you to read my analysis of the theoretical nature of angels as a race. now that you’re invested, i’m going to dramatically throw aside my cape and reveal my TRUE FORM: telling people that fandom consensus is wrong, and my ideas are cooler and better than everyone else’s and you should all throw roses at my feet and bow before your king.

(or just, y’know, take it as the subjective analysis that it is. whatever floats your boat.)

Hot Takes

the original kid icarus does not actually tell you about angels going extinct. here’s the wiki article with the full text of the backstory, just for convenience, so you know what i’m on about for the rest of this post.

so, the part of the story that i think gets misinterpreted is this part about palutena’s army.

Medusa led a surprise attack on Palutena's army which could barely fend off the attack. Palutena's army suffered major losses and was heavily defeated in the final battle.

specifically, i think a lot of people interpret said army as having been made up at least partly of angels. sure, in the actual game it consists entirely of centurions, but you have to take old NES games with a grain of salt. i know i don’t buy for a second that pit was part of palutena’s guard before the original game (he was just too goddamn young), there’s nothing wrong with reinterpreting things.

recall everything i established about angels already, though. this is the hot official lore, from the game everyone knows and loves. angels are messengers, and if the chariot master is to be believed, never warriors. pit is an outlier. palutena’s army consists of centurions, not angels. if medusa wiped them out, it wasn’t because they were fighting for palutena.

(and honestly, i don’t think angels are necessarily associated with palutena exclusively. sure, she’s got the wing imagery, and she’s got the one known surviving angel working for her, at least up until pittoo is born. but angels are messengers of the gods, not messengers of palutena. again, pit is an outlier.)

which all brings us to the real question of this post.

what the FUCK happened to all the other angels? why is there only pit? why does magnus act surprised to see a messenger of the gods, and make a quip about being dead, if not because angels are otherwise extinct?! WHO KILLED THEM, AND WHY?!

thus concludes the “over analyzing one-off lines“ show. see you next, uh, maybe at some point if i feel like it!

(also another thought i had but couldn’t find room to fit it in properly: the gods don’t really act like angels are all extinct, but i feel like that can be explained through the sheer scale of a god’s lifespan. if we assume they were wiped out sometime around the original kid icarus (even if not as palutena’s army) then that’s a whole twenty-five years. that’s a long time for us humans, but for a god, that might as well be last tuesday. “yeah, i know what angels are like. sure wish i could have one. too bad palutena’s got a monopoly on the one single angel that medusa didn’t manage to wreck.”)

#kid icarus #kid icarus uprising #the things i think of at five am #i am just yelling and spewing thoughts and theories and headcanons #if anyone has their own thoughts to add go right ahead i am dying to know whether or not i'm actually breaking new ground with all this #or if there's some vital lore i missed #or anything like that #i am OPEN for CONVERSATION

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rainydayotomes · 3 years ago

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Okay, this may seem weird but...what do you think the CxM and Amnesia boys smell like?

Dude.... don't even worry. Ask away all the weird questions, I seriously don't mind any of it! I'm one of the weirdos who wouldn't mind thinking/reading about these things.... ;3c

Unfortunately though, I'm extremely not good with scents and smells... I smell a smell and I identify it, but when it comes to something I'm not actively smelling at the moment my brain just kind of.... refuses to remember the smell. But I shall try my best!

Yanagi wears a subtle, masculine cologne (don't ask me which one cause I have no clue what they smell like D:). It's neither a very expensive brand, or a cheap one. Just in between. So when you're in his tight embrace, you can smell just a small bit of his cologne along with his natural scent. Everything that's his has this similar scent of cologne on it, and it makes you feel like you're in his strong arms.

Enomoto is a little bit of a wildcard. Sometimes he'll be trying out new soaps that a new "100 heart-jerking seduction tips!" book recommended (or some random magazine article he read), which always ends up being something that smells like Old Spice or some floral, more 'delicate' scent. He may as well smell of sweat and dirt if he just finished an intense on-the-job chase. The poor man sweats easily as well, so sometimes if he doesn't layer on a ton of soap or colognes or something then he may get a little smelly!

As for Takeru.... it's dish soap. Don't ask me why. He just somehow always smells like he just cleaned. Although, if he's coming out of the shower you can definitely tell he uses Old Spice!

Kei smells really, really good. Not to sound creepy or anything. But this man bathes (not literally) in the most amazing of scents. He always smells like the sweetest, most angelic vanilla you've ever had the pleasure of experiencing. He smells like icing and cupcakes and just... absolute heaven. That being said, it is a somewhat subtle scent, but if you're near him you can definitely tell it's vanilla. If you get close enough though, you can sometimes pick up on whatever incense he's been using during his naps!

Shiraishi, like Yanagi, smells strangely comforting. He smells like the cold air coming in through a window on a summer or late spring night. Like the grass after it rains. He says he doesn't see the need to wear any specific scents, but how in the hell does he smell so nice otherwise?! Although, on occasion, you may pick up a hint of something... chemically. A smell akin to sterile hospital air.

You already know Ikki wears major name brand cologne. Only the most popular, most expensive, and best selling brand. This dude layers the stuff on- not like teenage boys with ax but you can definitely smell the stuff if you hug him.

Our wonderful little pseudo-yandere Toma almost permanently has that new car smell. You don't know how he manages it, but you always wanna give him a hug when you see him (although not always just because he smells nice!)

Shin occasionally smells like flowers. Don't ask me why! He just does! But most importantly, why the fuck does he smell like chocolate? Either way, it's quite pleasant. (Turns out he somehow managed to get his hands on a chocolate scented body wash!)

Kent smells like fresh books. Not old books. Just fresh books. Like you just picked up a freshly printed paperback book off the shelf of a popular bookstore and opened it's pages.

Ukyo smells like a forest after it rains! He smells slightly earthy and beautifully refreshing. Laying with him is truly relaxing.

#im sorry can you tell I'm biased towards shiraishi #collar x malice #amnesia memories #ikki #toma #kent #shin #ukyo #aiji yanagi #kageyuki shiraishi #mineo enomoto #kei okazaki #takeru sasazuka #cxm x reader #headcanons

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fanfic-me-up · 4 years ago

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Capture This! || Kaminari Denki

Synopsis: You walk in on Denki, your best friend of five years, getting off. Two questions: Why is there a picture of you? And why do you want him to take more?

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

Warnings: M/E+, 18+, explicit sexual content

Word Count: 6k+

A/N: This is for the @bnhabookclub bingo event! Thank you @shoutogepi and @im-here-for-the-heroes for beta reading. Shout out to @whats-her-quirk this fic was born from me poppin in during your thirst hours lol

“Lotion? Check. Tissues? Check. Pictures?”

Denki swallows.

“Check.”

It’s routine for Denki, really the only ritual he sticks to in his otherwise scatterbrained schedule of kickin’ ass, chilling with friends, and playing Fortnite till ungodly hours of the morning.

But he can’t help it. You’re fucking gorgeous, and Denki has needs - his brain programmed to get off at least three times a day else he can’t function. The first time it happened, he felt a deep sense of shame, twisting his gut, disgusted with himself that he defiled your image. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week until you had enough and demanded to know what was up. It was the first time he lied to you.

But one time became two, and three, and suddenly Denki needed an image of you all the time. The one of you looking all pretty in that stupid summer dress was his favorite. You bought it that one time you dragged him to the mall because you needed a “guy’s opinion.” He rushed to the bathroom because if he didn’t get out fast, he was gonna drag you back into the changing room and rip that dress off himself.

You’re adorable, hot, sexy, and absolutely terrifying, wrapped up in one perfect package.

Oh, and did he forget to mention?

Totally off-limits.

This is why Denki has to resort to hanging out with you, listening to you vent about your boy problems, and how you just want to meet “the one” already. Denki’s heart breaks a little more every time you shove him deeper into the friend zone, all the while pretending like he didn’t just jerk it to you a couple hours before.

He works his hand up and down his shaft, growing harder by the second with each stroke. It doesn’t take much to get him going, not when it’s you. You’re wearing his hoodie, toes buried in the sand, roasting a marshmallow in front of a bonfire. You’re smiling at something Kirishima said, Denki doesn’t remember what, because all he could see was the light in your eyes. A genuine spark lit only when the cameras were off, and you were unaware of anyone watching. Denki loved witnessing these rare moments; wanted to commit it to memory, so he did. When you posted the picture on Instagram, Denki was more than surprised; you had scrunched your nose when he showed you the picture, displeased with how you looked.

This should not be happening. Any normal person would feel ashamed when staring at a picture of their best friend and touching themselves. No one knew about it, and Denki was surprised he was able to keep it a secret for this long considering he’s friends with fucking Mina of all people.

Enough pre-cum bubbles at the tip that he doesn’t even need the lotion. Staring at you on the screen, wearing his hoodie that’s way too big it covers your thighs completely, makes his mind wander to all sorts of ways he wishes he could get you out of that hoodie. He leans back into the chair, spreading his legs with his eyes half-lidded, imagining what your lips might look like wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck yeah...”

Groaning at the image of you on your knees, lips bruised and slicked with spit from fucking your pretty little mouth has Denki tightening his fist, hips fucking into his hand in a continuous rhythm.

He’s on the verge of coming when the door swings open - the first and last person Denki wants to walk in is standing there in front of him.

“Hey, I called, but you didn’t - ah!” You squeak, throwing the box you’re holding. A sea of random knick-knacks and hero merch rains over you. You hear a thump when the yellow polaroid camera you bought for Denki at a thrift shop hits the floor.

“Fuck!” Denki jumps from his chair, an array of pens fall in a heap to the floor.

You whip your head away, heat spikes your body, embarrassed that you saw your best friend in such a compromising position.

Denki mutters a repeated “shit shit shit” to himself for a good minute before he finally addresses you; his voice rising with each word.

“How did you get in here!?”

“Spare key, dumbass!”

“That’s for emergencies only!”

“Are you talking to me with your dick out!?”

Silence.

“No?”

You huff at the uncertainty in his tone. It’s only two o’clock, and you can already feel a migraine coming on.

“Denki, if I turn around and you’re not covered, so help me god I will-”

“Okay, okay, I got it. Pants are zipped.”

You don’t move until you hear the confirming “zip” before slowly opening your eyes (you have no idea why your eyes were closed in the first place), and you turn around to find Denki leaning against the desk. He’s trying his best to appear casual, but the flush on his face and frazzled hair give away what he was doing moments before you walked in. You don’t know where it comes from, but the thought alone stirs something inside you.

The confusing emotion is replaced by hot-blooded anger when you lock eyes on the screen behind him.

“Is that my face!?”

Denki’s smile drops as he turns around. Dammit. Of course, he forgot to close the tab.

“Uhhh…”

He has no words, none, not when you’re standing there with that intense look in your eyes you get when you’re about to rip someone a new one. Your anger could rival Bakugou’s, and Denki has unfortunately been in the middle of one too many screaming matches. He’s surprised his eardrums aren’t blown out by now.

He clicks to exit out, or at least he thinks he does until he comes to the dumb realization that he’s clicking the zoom button instead.

“Ho-hold on, let me just…”

With each click, it zooms a little more into your face until only your nose is in the frame. Denki sheepishly looks up at you.

“Oops?”

Denki’s had a good life. He’s already come farther than most ever dream in their career when becoming a pro-hero, and he’s made some amazing friends most spend years trying to find. The only regret of his is not confessing his true feelings to you, but really what’s one regret? He’s totally a-okay with saying goodbye to this cruel, cruel world if it meant not being subjected to this torture any longer.

“Denki Kaminari.”

Denki gulps. Oh no. You only say his full name when you mean business.

“Explain right this instant or I will walk out this door and tell the whole world how you and grape boy took body shots off cardboard cutouts of each other!”

“Hey! We were really fuckin’ drunk and thought it might score us some pity sex with the ladies!”

“In what world would you licking fuckin’ Mineta equal oh yeah, fuck me, Denki?”

Denki cowers with each step you take, gulping down the lump in his throat when your face is close enough to hold in his hands. He’s never been more simultaneously turned on and terrified in his life. Especially when he just heard the words “fuck me, Denki” escape your lips.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Whatever you do. Don’t. Look. Down.

The last thing he wants is you flinging him out the window because he couldn’t keep his eyes on your face. Don’t get him wrong; he could look at your face forever, even when you look like your one move away from killing him. But… he’s a dude, and there’s boobs in front of him, not to mention your boobs.

“Hello? Earth to Denki?” You wave your hand in his face.

“You may wanna sit down for this.”

“I’m fine where I am, thank you very much.”

He huffs out a breath, annoyed you didn’t take the bait. The suggestion was more for his sanity than yours. With you standing so close, his brain is going haywire; the tantalizing scent of strawberries and cream short-circuiting his brain quicker than when he overuses his quirk. It never fails to make his mouth water, if only he could bend down and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, god, he’d never let you go.

How does he even begin to work through the feelings he has for you when they’ve been bottled up since the moment he knew he was in deep? Where does he start?

The fact he’s been in love with you for the past five years?

Or that he’s been getting off to you for half that time?

Denki’s mind is running a mile a minute, like a computer in overdrive. He can’t make enough sense of his emotions to convert into words. But, instead of waiting to open his mouth, like a normal person, Denki spews out embarrassing word vomit that connects his two thoughts.

“I love getting off to you.”

A pin could drop, and it’d be as loud as a freaking hurricane.

Denki groans in frustration, facepalming his forehead. What the hell did he just say, and can he take it back? How long would it take for him to hack into a database and find someone with a time manipulation quirk? He doesn’t even know how to hack, but he’d wrangle his one brain cell and fucking learn if that’s what it takes.

He’s usually good at reading you. You’re one of the few people he cares enough to pick up on how you’re feeling. The myriad of emotions that pass on your face from shock to confusion to a hint of amusement lets Denki know he can breathe easy. At least you’re not trying to kill him anymore.

“Oh-kay that’s not what I - what I meant to say was - hold on, lemme just, rewind.”

He makes some weird, loopy gesture with his arms. His brain was firing a million synapses at once, each connected to a different thought, some deep like the fear of losing you and some not so deep - like he’s really excited to eat the cheeseburgers Bakugou promised he’d grill tonight.

But he tries his best to reign in the million and one thoughts to focus on you, who’s waiting for an explanation. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart that’s about to beat out of his chest. He only hopes you don’t stomp on it after what he’s about to say.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I have been since our first year at U.A. I wanted to tell you for the longest time, but then you got with Bakugou. Then you broke up, and you needed a friend more than ever, and how could I say no to being ‘your best bro’ when you were crying on my shoulder? It was just never the right time.”

The more he rambled, the more uncomfortable he felt. Out of all the scenarios he imagined of how he’d confess to you, this one was at the bottom of his list to be prepared for. He never expected to be forced into confessing because you caught him masturbating to pictures of you. He rubs the back of his neck and gives an awkward laugh when you stay silent.

“I get it if you wanna, like, shun me forever or something. I deserve it for being such a creep.”

Denki lowers his head to the floor, the clutter of fallen pens and knick-knacks looks way less intimidating than staring into your eyes. A soft hand touches his chin, lifting his face to meet yours.

“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.”

Your voice does wonders for soothing the nerves shaking him up.

“I guess it’s not that creepy when you put it like that, and for some weird reason, you’re like the one person I can catch jacking off to my pictures, and I don’t feel the need to report you as a registered sex offender.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but Denki’s heart drops at the idea of you labeling him as the neighborhood perv.

“Please, don’t do that,” he squeaks before clearing his throat, “But for real, Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s wrong to disrespect you like that, and I promise I won’t do it again.”

Denki has no idea how he’s gonna get off now, but that’s his future self’s problem.

“I can’t help it, you’re gorgeous, and I love ya, and I don’t remember the last time I got laid.”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that last part, but it’s the truth. You’re the reason he couldn’t even look at another girl, because they weren’t you, and that’s why he had to resort to pulling up pictures of you. Pictures that aren’t normally deemed “sexy” and of you dressed modestly, without much skin showing.

That doesn’t stop Denki from coming in record time with your name rolling off his lips every time.

“How bad do you want me?”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit curious about what sex with your best friend would be like. You heard he wasn’t a bad lay from a couple girls back at U.A.

You’d also be lying if you didn’t say you were just as horny as said best friend.

It’s difficult finding time to date as a pro-hero. When you do, it doesn’t last very long anyway - the other person growing tired of always coming second to your career. Don’t even get you started on one night stands. They’re practically impossible to uphold as once the media gets wind of it, you’re slapped on the cover of “Hero Times Magazine,” and everyone and their mother is calling for you to “spill the tea.” This is why pro-heroes either end up with other pro-heroes or end up alone.

Denki’s eyebrows shoot straight to his hairline. If someone were to tell him you were attracted to him in any sense of the word, his heart would double-time it, but he’d ultimately brush it off. He knew your type, and he could not be farther from it. The aggressive, beefy, gym rat who could match you move for move in a heated spar of harsh words and hot-blooded passion. You dated Bakugou for fuck’s sake! There was no hope for Denki after that.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take what he can get. The words pour out of him like the dam’s been broken and the unforgiving flood rushes.

“I want you so bad, Y/N, fuck, I’ve waited so long, so fucking long, you don’t know how crazy you make me.”

Your breath catches. His words have an unexpected effect on you, but your heart drums in anticipation. If you listen close enough, you can hear Denki’s beating at the same rate, waiting for what you’re going to say next. Power surges through you. In your past relationships, sex was always seen as this competition. Your exes never wanted to relinquish their pride or control, but Denki is nothing like your exes. He’s laid-back, always cracking jokes, and never dwelling too much on the past, always moving forward to the next moment. He’s perfectly fine with letting you take the reins most of the time. You determine what will happen next.

“You love getting off to me?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but he answers in earnest.

“You’re the only one I get off to.”

You slide your dress off, and it falls to the floor.

“Show me.”

Denki’s eyes travel over your body, his mouth slightly open in disbelief at your undressed state. He wants to capture this moment in case this is as much as he gets, even if he can never use this mental picture because he promised you he wouldn’t. His fingers itch to brush along the lace trim of your bra, to graze along your nipple, and watch your reaction. Are you sensitive enough where you’d full on moan, or would he have to strain to catch the small hitch of breath? Denki was never top of his class. He preferred to wing it and hope for the best, but for you, he’d take his time to study every inch and crevice of your body until he could read you cover to cover with his eyes closed. His gaze travels down to the matching lace panties you wear, a cute little bow in the front waiting to be untied with his teeth.

Did you plan to get fucked today? Or do you usually wear matching sets on the regular?

Your skin looks so soft and supple, he’s aching to dig his fingers, but before he can, you step away. Denki cocks his head. Have you changed your mind? But any doubt leaves Denki when you make your way across the room to sit down on the edge of the bed.

You start with feather-light touches dancing along your collarbone. Your eyes are locked on Denki, getting high on the way he drinks in your every move. Your touches are teasing, especially when your finger dips down to your cleavage. Still, instead of giving Denki what he wants, you change course, making your way back to your shoulders. Denki exhales a breath at your teasing, but says nothing, too afraid he’ll ruin the mood if he says something stupid.

When you make your way down again, you don’t disappoint; you pinch your nipple through your bra, and the way Denki swipes his tongue over his lip has heat rushing to your core. You slide your hand down your stomach, stopping when you reach your clothed slit. Denki stares, hungry and buzzing in anticipation for what you’ll do next. Smirking in victory, you spread your legs open and pull your panties to the side, giving him the view to capture the perfect picture of your dripping pussy.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.

Oh shit. Were you for real? Please, tell him you were for real because he legit might cry if this was some elaborate prank. Where are the fucking cameras?

“You don’t want to?” You bite your lip, insecurity seeping through the confident smile you wore just a moment ago.

“No! I mean - yes! Yes, I do, holy shit, let me find - where the fuck is…” Denki whips around, trying to find his phone. Fuck! Out of all the times to misplace it, it has to be now. But then he spots the yellow polaroid camera sitting on the floor, and before he can think, he’s picking it up and praying it has film. He kneels, so he’s eye level with your pussy, but also making sure the angle gets your whole body in the frame. The light streaming in gives you an ethereal look, your skin glowing, and adding to the cute flush on your cheeks. The camera clicks, and a second later, the picture slides out. You giggle at Denki’s impatience. He’s waving the picture frantically in the air, so the color comes through faster. He completely stills when he can finally take a good look at the beauty he’s captured.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look…”

Denki can’t control the groan that escapes. He looks back up at you, eyes darkened with lust before he’s ripping his shorts off so fast, his foot gets caught, and he almost trips in the process. Once he’s out of them, he plops back down in the chair across the room. You’re surprised when all you feel is pure, unadulterated lust. You expected to be at least a little bit weirded out staring at your best friend’s cock, but all you want is to put it in your mouth and explore all the different ways you can make him come. The tip is oozing pre-cum already, and the way he works his hand with a sense of urgency suggests he’s been hard for a while. It doesn’t take long before you hear Denki grunt.

“Fuck, I’m close.”

You look so pretty spread out for him. For the last five years, he wanted nothing more than to see you like this. His hips jerk up, and he throws his head back, but he makes sure to keep his eyes open like his life depended on it; he didn’t want to miss a second of this. You, with your legs wide open giving him a view of your perfect little pussy. Your panties soaked by you rubbing your clit mercilessly, and your pupils blown wide as you watch your best friend get off to the show you’re giving him. It’s erotic as hell, completely different from the pictures Denki has of you. This one easily tops all the others. He tightens his fist - he doesn’t want it to end without feeling your skin on his at least once.

“Let me touch you, Y/N, please, I just wanna touch you, need to feel you.”

Denki doesn’t give a fuck that he’s begging at this point. He’s waited too damn long to care about pride or dignity, not when the chance to fuck you is placed in his shaking hands. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, but it comes out anyway.

“Touch me.”

That’s all Denki needs. Before you know it, you’re pushed down on the bed, and lips smash against yours. He’s eager, a little too eager, shoving his tongue in your mouth and touching everywhere that he can. You don’t have much room to breathe, so you gently push at his chest.

“Chill, Denki.”

He huffs out a breath, muscles shaking like he’s restraining himself from overwhelming you.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,”

He mumbles, peppering kisses into your neck before making his way back to your lips. It’s much smoother this time, his tongue sliding out to tease your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. He groans when you open up for him, your tongue meeting his. Hands trail up until they reach around, resting on the clasp of your bra. Honey eyes meet yours, but you cut off his question.

“I’ll stop you if I need to, but you asking me if it’s okay every time you try something is gonna seriously kill the mood.”

You reach around to place your hands on top of his, unclasping your bra along with him. His eyes darken at the sight of your bare chest. You try not to squirm at the intensity of his gaze. It becomes near impossible when he dips down to flick his tongue over your nipple before biting with his teeth. He pays the same attention to the other one before kissing his way down your stomach. You arch your back when he spreads your legs and positions himself between them. He makes his way around, avoiding your dripping pussy, teasing your thighs with soft kisses. You huff in annoyance, and he smirks up at you, biting into the flesh of your thigh. This time he places a kiss to your heated center, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch.

“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.

He looks up at you, with such a serious expression, one you’ve only seen a couple times since knowing him.

“Everything and more.”

Your heart flutters, and you know you’re going to say something you’ll regret if you don’t stop counting the different shades of gold in his eyes. You clear your throat before throwing your hair back.

“You gonna fuck me, or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

You pull his head in for a demanding kiss, biting on his lip to distract yourself from the rush of bubbling emotions threatening to surface.

“One sec,” Denki whispers, placing one last kiss to your lips, before getting up.

You gape at the giant box of condoms he casually pulls out. It hasn’t been opened, and oh my god, you didn’t even know they made huge boxes like this. There were at least a hundred in there. What person thinks to buy a big box of condoms if their plans don’t include… fucking a whole ass army?

“What the fuck, Denki?”

People usually have one, maybe two condoms in their wallet at most. Some guys don’t have any at all, which kills the mood when you’re in the heat of the moment, so I guess you can be thankful that Denki is... extra prepared?

“What?”

He pulls a condom out and drops the box. It thumps when it hits the floor. You’re taken aback by how nonchalant he’s being about this.

“I- you- wha- How many times do you think we’re gonna do it!?”

Denki slides the condom on, smirking at your shocked expression.

“Till we finish this box,” he says as he slides into you.

You gasp at the stretch. He pushes to the hilt, and stays there when he notices the slight furrow of your brow. It has been a while since you’ve fucked, but soon enough, you crave more so you roll your hips, but he doesn’t move.

“Denki?”

His head is pressed into your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and the stuttering heartbeat matches to the beat of your own.

“Just… gimme a minute, don’t wanna ruin it by coming in two seconds.”

His words are muffled, voice raspy with desire, and you can only imagine what his face looks like. It makes you want him all the more. Finally, someone who doesn’t see sex as an opportunity to one-up you or to put you in your place. It’s scary how the last twenty minutes have changed five years of friendship.

“Hey,” you hold his face in between your palms. He already looks completely fucked out with his face flushed and eyes glazed. You place a tender kiss to his lips, unlike the previous kisses you shared.

“You couldn’t ruin it even if you did come right now.”

You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.

“You’d just have to make it up to me,” you wink.

His smile is so pure, lighting up his eyes that’s unique to Denki; it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest. But the moment passes as the previous heat between you two spikes when Denki circles his hips, taking his time to feel you inside and out. He’s touching and kissing you wherever he can, your cheek, neck, chest, thighs, like it’s the first and last time he’ll experience you like this. It might very well be.

This thought doesn’t sit well with you.

Once he’s mapped out your sweet spots, he digs his fingers into your thighs and pulls your hips flush towards his. He pulls out of you until only the tip is brushing your opening and pounds back into you, taking your breath away. He pumps in and out of you faster, and you cry out when he hits that special spot deep inside of you.

“Denki,” you moan. He grunts and spreads your legs even wider, grabbing one and hauling it over his shoulder to pound into you deeper.

He’s getting close, hell, he’s been close even before you walked in.

“F-fuck…” Denki groans, thrusting at an uneven pace and feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you flip him over and begin bouncing on his cock in a much more steady rhythm. Denki’s staring up at you, eyes wide in admiration.

You’re a goddess. An absolute fucking masterpiece that needs to be put in a museum for his eyes only. God, when did he get so fucking mushy? You always brought out different sides that Denki, himself, didn’t even know he had. He can’t keep his hands off you, grabbing your boobs, sliding down the curves of your thighs, gripping your ass. He wants to commit it all to memory in case he never gets to know this pleasure again.

“Y/N, ah, shit, I’m gonna...” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

He’s holding on to that sweet release for as long as he can. He’s been craving it since he met you on the first day of class at U.A. His balls tighten, unable to hold it in any longer, before he gives in to the long overdue orgasm. It hits him hard - his entire body tingling from head to toe like 1000 volts of electricity bolt through him. Denki had no idea he could come for this long, but he doesn’t want it to end - it feels so fucking good inside you. He rides it out for a couple more thrusts before he relaxes, completely sated. You try to pull off him, but he grabs your hips and forces you back down. You squeak, clearly not expecting him to care enough to help you out after he finished.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The tone of his voice sounds foreign in his ears, too gruff and too deep, but you seem to have no problems with it as you moan in response, working yourself on top of him. Your thighs crush his hips, shaking with need as you seek a release of your own. You’re tired from bouncing, so you resort to grinding, swirling your hips deliciously around his cock. Denki squeezes your ass in appreciation.

“You close?”

“Close, so close, Denki, please…”

Your eyes well up with tears, desperate to finish; the coil in your stomach wound too tight that you might burst any second. Denki helps you by thrusting his hips to meet yours, his hand rubbing your clit. You jolt at the sudden zap to your clit, you look down to see a small spark leave Denki’s fingertip. He does it again, and you cry out, your pussy fluttering from the electrifying touch.

“C’mon, baby, you can do it, come for me.”

Fuck. Denki didn’t mean for the pet name to slip out, but then you’re moaning louder than before that Denki would’ve had to quiet you if you weren’t alone. Words are tumbling out before you can stop them.

“Oh, fuck, Denki, I love this so much, I love you, I-”

You slap your hand over your mouth. Denki’s eyes widen for a second before a dangerous glint takes over, and he wretches your hand away from your mouth.

“Lemme hear you. C’mon, Y/N, show me how much you love this.”

You hardly recognize the scream as your own; you flush at how loud you are, but Denki doesn’t seem to mind. It seems to spur him on. He sits up so your chest to chest before he bends down to tug at your nipple with his teeth. You throw your head back in pleasure, your hands coming around to grab at his hair. Golden eyes look up at you from your chest, a slight smirk curving his lips.

“I’m no photographer, baby girl, but I can sure as hell picture us together.”

Leave it to Denki Kaminari to make you come with a cheesy pickup line.

He gives one final thrust, balls slapping against your ass and hitting the spot deep inside you just right. Your thighs quiver from the pleasure wracking your body, a scream lodging out of your throat so loud that the people next door bang on the wall. You’re overwhelmed to the point that all you can do is rest your head on his shoulder, whispering his name in a broken whimper as you finish.

You fall next to him on the bed, sweaty and completely wiped, both of you trying to catch your breath. Denki tosses the condom in the trash while you stare at the ceiling, watching the fan swirl round and round. Your mind is no different at the moment, going round in circles, and you’re trying to catch up. Your body feels weightless, tingling all over and loving the high you didn’t think was possible. The bed shifts, and suddenly you’re faced with your best friend of five years. Before he can get a word out, the front door slams shut, and two very familiar, very masculine voices are down the hall, getting closer by the second.

“Kaminari, you lazy shit, get the fuck down here!”

“Shit!” Denki jumps from the bed, ruffling through the mess to find his pants.

“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”

It’s too late as the door swings open, and yeah… if today taught Denki anything, it’s that he really needs to lock his door more often. He doesn’t have time to think as he hops back into bed with you to avoid flashing any of his other friends today. Bakugou would probably threaten to chop his dick off and… yeah, Denki doesn’t wanna think about the rest.

You squeak and cover yourself with the blanket when you’re met with two sets of equally shocked crimson eyes.

Kirishima drops the bag of chips he’s holding. It seems like dropping things when walking into Denki’s room was a common theme today, and he’s sure as hell not looking forward to the cleanup. Denki regrets chancing a glance at Bakugou; nostrils flaring like a rabid predator on the loose and Denki’s his target.

The four of you stare at each other for who knows how long before Kirishima breaks out into a full-on grin.

“About time, bro, congrats!”

“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.

“The fuck!? You bangin’ my ex, dunceface!?” Bakugou shouts.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Denki squeaks, hiding underneath the covers.

“Oi! You fuck like a man, you better fight like one, too!”

You roll your eyes, hardly affected by Bakugou’s exploding presence, unlike Denki, who is literally shaking beside you.

“Oh fuck off, Katsuki, listen to yourself. Keyword ex-girlfriend.”

Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s been in a mood since he found out he’s gonna be the next star of the Bachelor.”

“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?”

You and Denki burst out laughing at the absurdity of Katsuki forced to act like a gentleman on live TV. The image of Katsuki in a suit and tie, holding a rose and actually smiling, is comedic gold to you.

“C’mon, bro, let’s give ’em some space.”

“Oi! You’re on my shit list now! All of you! Aye! Get the fuck off me!”

Kirishima drags Bakugou the rest of the way, giving you a quick thumbs up on the way out.

You and Denki are still cracking up, but your laughter dies when they leave, and you’re faced with the tension from before. Denki sinks lower into the sheets, hating that he keeps getting walked in on. Who decided it was ‘make a fool out of Denki day’ anyway?

“So…” you start.

“So…” Denki finishes.

You both stare straight ahead at nothing.

“Did you mean it?”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.

“What you said, when you... you know...” he makes a clicking noise with his mouth like that’s universal code for fucking, “Or was it just a heat of the moment thing?”

You take a moment to think before you give your response. You want to be as honest as possible, and not lead Denki on in any way. Of course, you loved him, he’s your best friend, but did you love him?

You think back on your friendship, and suddenly a supercut of all the times he was there for you flashes before your eyes. He was there when you needed someone to drive you when you had your wisdom teeth pulled out. You didn’t expect Denki to stay with you the whole weekend, buying you ice cream and watching your favorite movies, but he did.

He was there when you and Bakugou became an item, always listening to you swoon over how amazing a boyfriend he was. Denki would always respond with “But can he do this?” and would proceed to overuse his quirk like an overpowered Pikachu just to make you laugh. It sends a knife through your heart, knowing Denki was in love with you while you were talking about how great of a boyfriend his friend was. Not to mention how he was there when you and Bakugou broke up, heart-broken and vowing to swear off boys for good. Denki held you in his arms while you cried, staying silent the entire time, which you knew was against his nature. Denki was always there for you as a friend. There’s no doubt he’d be there for you as a lover.

“I meant it,” you say.

Tears threaten to spill, and your heart might burst out of your chest and land right into his hands. You hope he holds on to it forever. He squishes your cheeks and leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. This is what you’ve been missing - more like who you’ve been missing. You open your mouth to deepen the kiss, and he meets you move for move. He pulls away, hands still on your cheeks, grazing your cheekbones with his fingertips as he stares into your eyes.

“Denki, I…” You bite your lip, overcome with emotion. You desperately want to say the words to capture this picture-perfect moment forever.

Until you feel something poking your thigh.

“Denki!”

You yell, affronted he popped a boner in the middle of what was supposed to be a romantic moment.

“Sorry!”

“Ugh! Worst timing ever!” You slap his shoulder.

“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

You wiggle out of his embrace. Silence eats at the room, and you can feel Denki’s energy radiating in uncomfortable frequencies. The last moment had been thoroughly ruined.

But you have all the time in the world to make more.

“... round two?”

Just seeing Denki’s face light up like Christmas is enough to promise the birth of a new moment. He bends over to grab his box of condoms, some spilling on the floor and adding more to the mess, before saying, “hell yeah!”

You roll your eyes with affection. What a weirdo, you think. But he’s your weirdo.

That night, or rather the next day since it was currently three in the morning, Denki plops down on his bed exhausted from the day. He’s fluffing his pillow, trying to get comfortable, when he feels something underneath. His eyes widen when he takes in the picture he’s holding. You must’ve taken it when he was downstairs and snuck it under his pillow. You’re bent over with that same damn lacy bra that sends him for a loop. Your cleavage deliciously on display as you bite your lip and stare at the camera with those innocent eyes. Denki can’t help it, his hand sliding down on instinct and cupping himself through his boxers. He turns the picture around and smiles at the cute little message written on the back.

“To add to your collection 😉”

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realcube · 4 years ago

Text

random kisses w/ the haikyuu!! boys hcs 💋

characters: tsukishima, akaashi, kenma, iwaizumi & noya

thank you to anon for the amazing request :3

IWAIZUMI & KENMA’S ARE AGED UP

tw// swearing, sexual references, mentions of kinks, mentions of choking

Kei Tsukishima

tsukishima was always very hesitant to kiss and hug tbh

the only thing he did freely without overthinking was hold your hand but even then, he’d immediately pull away if he thought his palm was getting the slightest bit sweaty (from his nerves)

also, he’d get really tense when ever he saw you lean in for a kiss bc he was always afraid that he’d mess up something

like what happens if he sneezes exactly when you’re about to connect lips?- he’d die, that’s what would happen.

anyway, when you first began surprising him by placing kisses on either the back of his hand or the nape of his neck, he’d become a blushing , irritated mess

like, he thought it was so cute and sweet so of course he’d blush but then he’d get mad bc..you made him blush! how embarrassing for him, tsk.

but although he’d be annoyed and hiss things like ‘you’re so weird’ or ‘that’s simp behaviour’ he would never tell you to stop bc deep down he knows that he enjoys it lol

and surprisingly, he wasn’t in denial about it at first either

like mans isn’t stupid

obviously he liked it, why else would he blush?

since he was aware that he liked your lil’ random kisses, he began to pretend to be invested in activity bc he realised that if you thought he was preoccupied with something important/stressful, you’d be more likely to give his neck a lil’ peck

for instance, if he’s just on his phone or whatever then you text him saying that you’re coming over, he immediately rush to gather his backpack and bring out his notes so he can sit at his desk to look like he’s studying lmao

then you walk in like ‘awh bb you’re always working so hard 🥺 kithes’

and he’s just got the most cunning smirk on his face which he’s trying his very best hide to conceal

then you gave him a kiss on the cheek and he was just like ‘gotcha bitch ( •̀ ω •́ )✧’

anyway, when he’s just deadass being lazy he can still tell when you’re about to kiss him bc he’s very observant etc etc

(also bc you always have a cheesy grin on your face before you kiss him lol)

so after a few years of dating, they become less of ‘random kisses’ and more like just regular kisses for tsukki but he always tries to act like it’s surprising

whether that be jumping slightly whenever you peck the back of his neck or inhaling sharply as you pressed a sudden kiss to his forehead

it’s just bc he loves to hear your giggles at his reaction 🥺 he thinks it’s so cute

Keiji Akaashi

this all began when he was lying on the couch, reading a book while looking absolutely scrumptious so you just had to give him a lil’ peck on the forehead and he’s been addicted ever since

he especially likes it when you sneak up behind him, wrap him in a hug then plant a kiss on the nape of his neck - he thinks it’s so cute and he always cuddles your arms to his chest so you don’t let go

OMG AND YOU DID IT AT SCHOOL ONCE AT THE END OF PRACTISE, IN FRONT OF ALL HIS TEAMMATES AND HE JUST- MALFUNTIONED FJBFVBGRAFD

deadass he just stood like a statue while you cuddled up behind him, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes wide

bokuto thought it was adorable and was like ‘awwwhhh!! #couplegoals!! 💖💕🥰’

(yes he does say the hashtag aloud)

while the rest of the team are wondering if akaashi is okay. i mean, mans looking pretty stiff

but dw he’s not dead y’all, he’s just ascended 👼

like seriously he loves it so much

sometimes he tries to give you random kisses by just grabbing your face while you’re doing something and lean in to place his lips upon yours but he always gets distract by how gorgeous you are, so he’ll spend a little too long admiring your face which will lead to you having to awkwardly muttering something along the lines of

‘i love you too, akaashi. but, erm, my toast is burning.’

Hajime Iwaizumi

iwaizumi already did something kinda similar to random kisses but not really yk?

like whenever he saw you really invested in an activity that you didn’t like doing (cleaning, laundry, studying, chores etc) he’d plant a firm kiss on your cheek which would end up trailing across your face, to your lips - just to boost your spirits lol :)

but they weren’t really surprising or ‘random’ bc he would always announce something to grab your attention before kissing you, like ‘babe’ or ‘wow’

also, imo ‘random kisses’ gives off a ‘sweet lil’ smooch’ sorta vibe but the kisses he gives you are far from ‘smooches’

like they are unintentionally sensual as hell

and he doesn’t even realise how erotic they are so he just suddenly pulls away to leave you with your chores ✋😔

anyway, you first gave him a surprise kiss while he was cooking dinner and whispered something jokingly in his ear along the lines of ‘woah, husband material.’

damn, if iwa knew that all he had to do for some kithes was be a hubby then he would’ve done that sooner like geez 😳

istg after that day iwaizumi would be in full maid-mode whenever you were in the house (bc he apparently doesn’t know the difference between the duties of a maid and a ‘husband’ lol)

‘yes i do the cooking, yes i do the cleaning’ - nicki manaj, hey mama -iwazumi hajime after being told that’s he’s husband material

so know you feel obliged to give him kisses and praise him whenever you see him doing chores/cooking/gardening bc you know he’s only doing that to please you lmao

so you just give the man what he wants i mean, he’s trying so hard

and he puts in so much effort to make sure he looks hot while doing it

like if he’s cleaning the bathroom room, he’ll oil himself and get out the Mr Muscle spray to make sure that his chest is shinier than the bathroom tiles

then you’ll kiss his forehead and tell him how he’s doing a great job blah blah blah

honestly, the kisses are hardly ‘random’ anymore since iwaizumi sets up a whole scene just to get you to peck his cheek but whatever

anyway, you helped him realise that he had a domestic and servitude kink

and for that, he’s forever grateful 🥰

Kenma Kuzome

pov: you’re sad so you play stardew valley and your s/o notices and they pounce on you with their love and affection 🥺

and you cry bc you love them so much but you’re not good at expressing it 😔✌

- ok, end of pov -

that was kenma’s pov btw ^

but like seriously, it’s his absolute favourite when you give him kisses while he’s playing video games

and you always give exactly the right quantity - it’s like you can read his mind or something

like, if he’s in a the climax of a round of any first-person shoot/rpg and you happen to walk by, you’ll just place a brief yet caring kiss on the side of his head then leave him alone

or if he’s on stream and you walk into the room - but don’t wanna be on camera - you’ll blow him kisses and he’ll smile like an idiot then discretely blow one back

then his chat is like ‘omg he can smile?’, ‘why is he smiling?’ ,‘is he sending air kisses? SIMP!!!’

but when he’s down, blaring lo-fi music from his cat speakers and playing animal crossing, nintendogs, stardew valley or tomodachi life (etc), you’ll shower him with all your cuddles and kisses

ngl tho, when you scuttle up to him while he’s playing any game and press a lil’ kiss on his ear as you absently rub his shoulders, he literally melts

he just kinda sits there and stares at the screen but not even a fraction of his mind is dedicated on the game, it’s all just ‘(y/n). i love them so much. i hope they know that. wow, i got so lucky, i hope they never leave me. (y/n), if only you could read my mind.’

and to show that he likes it, he purrs!!!

not voluntarily, it kinda just escaped his mouth the first time you were giving him a massage and since you insisted that it was the cutest thing you’ve ever heard, he continues to do it - but v quietly

but- there is one thing he likes more than random kisses

and that is random cuddles

or random lapping-sitting yESSS

he is a simp so if you’re feeling needy or whateva and sit on his lap while he’s playing, he’ll literally just quit tbh-

that’s one of the only times he’ll not use the excuse ‘i’ll do it when this round ends’ so use it wisely and sparingly

but that’s only if you sit facing towards him bc he realised that if you sit like that, he’ll get some cooch

but otherwise, if you just sit on his lap for the sake of sitting on his lap, he’ll either jokingly push you off or continue playing his game by looking over your shoulder

Yū Nishinoya

you stole it from him lol

he’s the OG random kisser ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

let’s recall how on your first date with him, you were worrying that he might’ve stood you up as you waited on the picnic blanket for him to arrive and then he jumped out from one of the hedges and attacked you with kisses

like mans got a lot of energy so i can just imagine him attacking you with affection whenever he is bored

and he does it regardless of what you are doing at the time

studying? kiss attack.

cleaning? tickle attack.

sleeping? cuddle attack.

hotel? trivago

he goes into that shit with a strategy too like ‘if i kiss them on the neck first they’ll move their head and arm which will give me access to their chest so then i’ll plant a kiss there too and depending on whether the jerk to the left or right i can then go in for a kiss on their n--’ etc etc

so imagine how hyped he is when you sneak up behind him in the school corridor and peck his cheek

AND IT WAS IN FRONT OF HIS FRIENDS TOO, IT WAS AWESOME

he was so triumphant about it, as if he had just won some sort of award lol

‘yes, i am the coochieman. and what about it?’

then he bought you lunch for ‘being the best s/o ever’ 🥺

but don’t think you’ll ever beat him in the random kissing game bc while he was feeding you the lunch he bought (he does that sometimes, playfully though, whenever he is feeling like a simp) he’ll lean in and steal a lil’ kiss which will lead to you choking on your rice

‘hey babe, plz don’t choke. otherwise i’ll have to give you mouth-to-mouth, ahaha.’

meanwhile, you’re turning red

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nagirambles · 2 years ago

Text

Rant

Hi, I’m sorry. This is a vent. You don’t have to read it, I just really need to get it out of my system.

“Well, (otherwise) is canon.” "Stop complaining, it's already happened and nothing is going to change that." “You’re not the writer, Mashima can do whatever he wants with his series.” “(Character) has done nothing to deserve your unwanted criticism.” “I don’t understand why you’re still watching Fairy Tail if you so clearly hate it, then.”

I’ve had enough. People like this please shut the fuck up. Please. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Fucking hell.

Why are there so many of these people in the Fairy Tail fandom? I don’t care if you’re ‘tired of people hating on those characters’, you do realize that by jumping in and fighting against them, you are perpetuating the hostility on both ends and making the community fucking miserable to be in? You’re not a hero and you’re not ‘brave’ for speaking out against antis. You’re just another menace that wants drama. They posted it for like-minded people, not you. Leave them alone and they will, you. Curate your own experience. So what if they’ve created a blog to ‘hate’ on a character? You’re not forced to look at it! You think it’s silly? I think it’s sillier that you’re complaining when the block button is right the fuck there for everyone, and even if you accidentally scroll upon an anti post that isn’t tagged, it takes zero effort to roll your eyes and scroll past it. You don’t have to read every post in full! If you realize something is a critical opinion you disagree with, why are you still reading?

We are allowed to have critical opinions and have negative viewpoints of things without you jumping in to defend everything under the sun. The fictional character’s feelings cannot be hurt, she won’t mind if I say she’s terribly written. Mashima does not give a shit what a random tumblr user thinks, either, he won’t even know me when I say I hate how he’s over-sexualizing his characters.

Seriously, how does someone see my blog and think I hate Fairy Tail?

Oh, I’m so sorry dear, I didn’t know you were having a bad day and went off on the first person you saw! It’s okay, I forgive you, thanks for your meaningless apology! I’m also sorry, I had a horrible day too... and then some jerk came into my comments and started snidely and indirectly telling me I’m dumb for having some opinions. Forgive me too okay! :)

Is that how you expect a human being to react or something?

Seriously how the fuck do you people justify yourselves? Even had the gall to play the victim once I called them toxic. They had the gall to allude that they had depression or were suicidal and struggle getting by each day. Am I supposed to pull out my list of struggles too so we can start comparing who was more justified in their anger? I’m supposed to be understanding of you? Oh, no, please. You be the mature one first. I barely got back into blogging because I was struggling horribly, and somehow I’m supposed to be sympathetic of an asshole because they pulled out the ‘I’m baby don’t hurt me’ card first? I’m not a fucking babysitter, you pick a fight you sit the fuck down and take the hit.

People are getting too fucking comfortable revealing and saying whatever the fuck they want online to pretend that’s a justification for everything.

#just a ramble

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biaswreckingfics · 3 years ago

Text

Liminal: Part 1

Pairing: EXO x Female Reader

Genre: Witch!AU

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Some strong language

Summary: Magic. Murder. Mystery. You don't know when this became your life, but your choice in the matter is long gone. Someone is after you, someone is killing witches, and when a coven approaches you and tells you you're one of them? You're sure they're crazy. What's so magical about a girl stuck working in a greenhouse?

------------------------------------------------

Junmyeon swipes up the newspaper that Chanyeol had thrown down on the table with a sigh. Kyungsoo watches the anger take over his face as he reads the article they have all already had the displeasure of seeing.

Another senseless murder.

Another witch dead.

Everyone in the room shares the same frustration. The same anger and helplessness that is fleeting across Junmyeon's face at this very second, and they have no idea how to stop it.

This is the sixth body that has shown up in the past two months. The police think it’s a serial killer, but they have no real idea of what's happening. All they keep managing to do is get in the way of the people who actually have a chance of solving the murders - and they needed to be solved quickly before anyone else is killed.

None of the covens or elders can figure out why this is happening. What would someone gain from killing witches? Even worse, what would someone gain from killing witches that didn’t practice magic?

That is part of what shocked Kyungsoo. Not only were witches being slaughtered, but there were entire lines of witches hidden from the covens. Sure, he had heard of people going into hiding after the war centuries ago, but he hadn’t realized how many there were or that they were still in hiding after a couple hundred years.

Did those who were killed even know they were magical or was that knowledge lost to them a long time ago?

It was a surprise to the elders too. When the first few deaths occurred, none of them realized it was witches being killed off. The only reason anyone figured it out is because an Elder works on the police force. Kyungsoo didn’t know if it was his instincts or something about the way they were murdered that caused red flags to go off in the Elder’s head, but if it wasn’t for him, they still wouldn’t know. He raised concern, and others began tracing back the deceased familial lines, ultimately discovering it’s their own being murdered.

“What should we do?” Seoyeon quietly asks.

“You carry on with what you’ve been doing.” The High Priestess says as she sweeps into the room. “You keep perfecting your skills, and let the Elders keep tracing family lines.”

Jongdae watches her from across the room, already shaking his head as she speaks. “That’s not enough. We need to find these other hidden witches before whoever is killing them does.”

“How do you suppose you’re going to find someone you don’t even know exists?” She asks calmly, clasping her hands in front of her as she comes to a stop next to Junmyeon. When nobody offers her an answer, she continues. “Running around like a bunch of blind mice isn’t going to solve anything. Obviously, report it if you see any suspicious activity. Otherwise, let the Elders handle this for now.”

Her words frustrate some of the members, but they leave no room for argument. Besides, only fools would argue with their High Priestess. Though, something about her words sends a thought through Kyungsoo’s brain.

He has noticed suspicious activity lately at a place that he frequents quite often. At first, he thought it was just paranoia because of the murders, but now he thinks it’d be stupid to ignore. Especially when someone’s life could be at stake.

“The greenhouse,” his deep voice rumbles, causing everyone to look at him. “I’ve noticed odd people hanging around there, and they only started coming once the murders began. I thought it was in my head, but now I’m not so sure.”

He ignores the way his cousin’s eyebrows furrow and focuses solely on the High Priestess, who nods at his words.

“I’ll check into the employees that work there. For now, continue going there to keep an eye on things.”

------------------------------------------------

You hum to yourself as you bend down and check the sage plants for any bugs. There’s only about an hour left of work, and you figure this is the quickest way to pass the time. Plus, you didn’t mind this part of the job. It’s mindless and lets you escape into your fantasy world that is always quietly calling your name.

“Did you know that some people use sage to ward off evil?”

You jump when you first hear the deep voice next to you, but a smile quickly grows on your face. Kyungsoo. One of the greenhouse’s most consistent customers and definitely one of your more favorite customers. His monotone voice would make you think he’s bored, but you could always hear the passion in it when he talked about plants.

You straighten up to meet his stare. “Is that why I get the random terrified customer that comes in asking for it?”

The smile immediately falls from his face as he processes your words. “What?”

“I’m joking, Kyungsoo,” you tell him as you hold back a laugh. “Besides, aren’t there specialty shops for that?”

“Probably.” He shrugs his shoulders before a curious gaze takes over. “So, do you believe in things like that?”

“In evil spirits?” A small laugh escapes from you. “No, not really. Ghosts, demons, magic… I don’t believe in any of it, but if someone comes in here looking for sage to protect themselves, I’m definitely not going to stop them.”

Kyungsoo nods at your words, but you can tell his mind is elsewhere. Either lost in a world of magic and evil or just in a daze. You glance past him to make sure everything else in the greenhouse is going okay and notice another customer watching you.

Changmin. Someone who only recently started coming to the greenhouse but wasted no time in trying to get to know you.

“Do you need any help Changmin?” you ask, causing Kyungsoo to look over at him.

The two make eye contact for a moment, and you curiously take in the sight. Did they know each other? Because the vibes you’re getting aren’t exactly friendly.

“I do, actually.” Changmin finally says, ripping his gaze away from Kyungsoo to look at you.

“Okay. One second.” You tell him, focusing back on the man in front of you. “Did you need anything else, Kyungsoo?”

He eyes Changmin a little longer before turning back toward you. “I’m good. Thanks. I’ll see you around, though.”

You nod and watch him walk away before making your way over to Changmin. His brown eyes still watch Kyungsoo until he’s out of the store, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion.

“What’s up?” You ask in an attempt to get his attention.

“How long have you known him?” He asks, leveling you with a stare.

You jerk in surprise at the unexpected question. There’s no obligation to answer him, but you can’t deny you’re curious why someone you barely know would ask that.

“He’s been shopping here for a couple years. Why?”

Changmin slowly nods before looking back in the direction Kyungsoo had left in. You study his side profile, taking in the locked jaw and intense stare. They had to know each other, and not in a good way.

“Changmin?”

He studies you for a moment before saying, “I wouldn’t trust him if I were you.”

Your mouth parts slightly as you try to take in his words. Who just says something like that, and why did he think he could say it to you?

A smile grows on his lips as he takes in your expression. “Just some friendly advice.”

“…Right.” You finally find your voice, though a weird feeling fills you. Something about this entire thing feels off, and you don’t want to be dragged into it.

“Well, thanks for the help.” He winks at you and heads toward the entrance.

A minute passes before you find your bearings again. That entire encounter was awkward, and what’s more, you never even helped Changmin, so you didn’t know what exactly he was thanking you for.

Pushing the last five minutes from your mind, you pick up a nearby watering can and start giving some of the drier plants a little bit of water. You follow the same monotonous routine as you normally do and sigh. You’re so bored… and not just here but in general.

Working at the greenhouse is fun, and it’s refreshing to be surrounded by nature and warmth every single day, but it isn’t enough. You crave excitement and adventure. You want to travel the world and experience all that life has to offer, and you know you won’t find that here in the greenhouse.

You want more.

As your night wraps up, you turn off the lights and begin to head out, turning to lock up the greenhouse before you go. It’s the same routine that you always have, but something about tonight feels different. Something in the air feels different.

Brushing off the odd feeling, you throw the greenhouse keys in your bag and begin the journey home. It’s nights like these that you’re grateful you only live a couple blocks away. You get to tune into your thoughts and let your mind wander in the peace and quiet of the night, but tonight, that odd feeling remains.

You glance over your shoulder to glimpse the empty streets. Vehicles parked along the road for the night and a few trees scattered along the sidewalk greet you, but that’s all. No other human being catches your attention; however, you still can’t shake the feeling growing inside of you. The feeling that you’re being followed.

Quickening your pace, you try to remain calm and clearheaded. The odds that you’re being followed aren’t very high, but the recent string of murders in the city has you feeling on edge anyway. You debate if you should continue going home or if you should go somewhere else, but there’s no public place between the greenhouse and your apartment, so you continue on your path.

It’s probably just paranoia, especially since it’s nearly all the city can talk about. The news, the papers, social media… it’s everywhere, and that’s why you assume the odd feelings are just in your head. You’re psyching yourself out… but that still doesn’t stop you from feeling a sense of relief the second you get into your apartment.

Locking the door immediately behind you, you take a deep breath before letting out a breathy laugh at your actions. They were warranted, but you still felt a little silly. You turn on the lights and move to drop your bag on the table near the door. Before you can take any further steps into the apartment, your phone rings and you phish it out of your pocket, barely glancing at the caller ID because you already know who it is.

“Hey, mom,” you greet her.

“Did you make it home okay?” The worry is clear in her voice, so you avoid any sassy responses and move to sit on your couch.

“Yep! Safe and sound.”

You’ve grown used to the nightly phone calls you’ve been getting from your parents over the past couple of weeks. Ever since the news broke the first couple of murder stories, your parents have been worried sick about you, even more than usual. You’ve been trying to keep them calm and not become frustrated by their actions because you understand. You’re their only child, and you live alone in a dangerous city, but sometimes you really want to forget about the horrors that exist on the other side of your apartment door.

“Good! Make sure your door is locked!”

“It is mom.”

You hear her sigh on the other end of the phone. “You know we just want you safe, sweetie.”

“I know, and I love you for it.”

“Love you too, baby. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

You let out a soft laugh as you hang up the phone and drop it on the couch. Turning your head towards the window, you take in the city lights and listen to the soft sounds of the still bustling city that slip through the glass. Your mind can’t help but think about the odd feeling you had when you left work. The feeling that you were being followed. Was it paranoia as you suspected, or something more sinister?

The following days prove to be just as boring as usual, and after your spooky walk home a few days ago, you welcome it. For once in your life, you welcome the quiet, boring life you lead. The only difference you’ve noticed over the past few days is the more frequent visits of Kyungsoo and Changmin. It’s like every time you turn around, one of them is there. It’s almost eerie how they manage to do it.

Kyungsoo is a welcome distraction. He often talks about the plants you have in the greenhouse and similar ones he thinks you should talk your superiors into growing. He often makes comments about magical herbs or ones that’d be used in rituals, and you have to laugh. It’s funny to you how into magic he is, but you can tell he’s passionate about it, so you let him continue telling his stories.

Changmin, on the other hand, seems more concerned about Kyungsoo than you or the greenhouse. You often catch him watching Kyungsoo from a distance, and you know Kyungsoo can feel it because he has caught him several times himself. It’s odd how Changmin doesn’t even bother trying to hide it, and things take a really weird turn when Changmin approaches you about him directly.

‘Didn’t I warn you not to trust that guy?”

The small shovel you’re holding in your hand drops back into the pot as you stand up to greet Changmin. “Hello to you, too.”

His eyebrow quirks up as you ignore his previous sentence. “Hi. Did you not hear what I just said to you?”

“I heard you just fine. What I’m not hearing is an explanation.” He gives you a confused look, so you elaborate. “This is the second time you’ve told me not to trust Kyungsoo, but you’ve yet to give me a reason. Kyungsoo has been nothing but nice to me while you, on the other hand, keep sending him death glares across the greenhouse and telling me not to trust him.”

He studies your expression for a moment before nodding. “I just thought I’d help you out. You’re a nice girl. Maybe a little too nice. Didn’t your parents ever teach you that looks can be deceiving?”

Confusion causes your brows to furrow as you try to figure out how on earth you should even respond to that. This man that you barely knew, not only is telling you not to trust someone but is calling you naïve directly to your face. Who does stuff like this?

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs his shoulders, “maybe watch who you befriend.”

You meet his stare for a moment before saying, “Yeah… I’ll do that.”

For the rest of your shift, all you can think about is how relieved you are that Changmin is gone. The man is starting to creep you out and why he felt like he could tell you who you could and couldn’t trust really bugged you. The two of you are friendly but not friends. You barely know him, so why does he think he can come up to you and say things like that?

“Don’t forget to turn out the lights!” Your coworker reminds you as she breezes past towards the door.

“I got it, don’t worry. See you tomorrow!”

She throws you a smile as she exits the greenhouse, and you try to focus on the last-minute things you need to do, but your mind is elsewhere. Sighing, you toss your work gloves into a bin by the counter and move to grab your purse. You’ll deal with the rest tomorrow.

As you walk out of the greenhouse and turn to lock up, you get an eerie sense of déjà vu. You lift your head up and look at the area around you. The sight that greets you causes a bad feeling to work its way up your spine.

People are scattered all over the place. On the sidewalk on each side of the greenhouse and across the street. They stay half-hidden in the shadows. Not enough to show their faces, but enough that you can tell they’re there.

You take a deep breath and try to keep calm while you watch the shadows. There had to be 10 to 15 people around you, and that’s enough to set off your alarm bells because you’d usually only see maybe four people maximum when you closed.

The way they all stand still as they watch you causes your heart rate to spike. You stare at the wooden door in front of you and debate on running back into the greenhouse since the key is still in the lock, but you know that’s not going to stop them from whatever it is they plan on doing. Something tells you they’re here for you and that they won’t stop until they get what they want. You don’t know why, but your body is screaming it at you.

You needed to find a place with people, or at least, a busy street, and there wasn’t any toward your apartment, so you pull the key out of the lock and head in the opposite direction. Your steps are slow as you come close to one of the people leaning against the building next to you. The girl doesn’t move as you pass her, and though you try to find her eyes, it’s like she leans back deeper into the shadows, making it even harder to see her.

Once you pass her, you pick up your pace and almost swear when you hear footsteps behind you. You knew this was going to happen. Now, you just have to be quicker than the rest of them.

Quickening your pace to a jog, you force yourself not to look behind you. Every time the person looks behind themselves in a movie, they fall and bust their ass. That would not be you. However, something else tries to force its way inside your head…

What if these people had something to do with those murders?

You force yourself into a jog, noting the wind has noticeably picked up. Good. Maybe they’ll get tired of going against the wind to follow you. You smile at the thought until you feel the wind push against you even harder.

You stumble a little at the force of it but try to keep going. You ignore the harsh whip of it against your face, but it stings enough that you question where the heck this wind even came from. Was it even supposed to storm today? You could’ve sworn the forecast said sun all day when you woke up.

An even harder gust of wind slams against you, and you find it nearly impossible to move your body. Chancing a glance behind you, you see the people that are following you having an even tougher time. It’s like they’re somehow getting even more wind than you are.

What the hell is going on? You’ve never experienced wind like this. It’s almost… unnatural.

Lightning arcs across the sky, being immediately followed by thunder, and all you can think is “great, a freak storm, that’s exactly what you need right now”. You look up at the sky and feel your face scrunch in confusion. There aren’t any visible clouds, so you’re not entirely sure where this storm is coming from.

More bolts of lightning streak across the sky, lighting up the road around you until suddenly one of the bolts hits a streetlight behind you. The thunder that accompanies the bolt is monstrous, startling you into turning around and searching for damage.

Smoke comes off the light that had just been struck, but before you can process it, another bolt hits the light across from it, sending two of your followers stumbling. You jump back as more bolts begin hitting the road, and that’s when you realize the lightning isn’t following any basic laws of science. Tall buildings, other streetlights, plenty of metal objects surround you, and instead, the lightning hits the ground, bypassing everything. Even odder, the bolts only hit the ground around the people behind you, none of them near you.

Momentarily stunned by the odd storm, you realize this is the perfect distraction to get away. You turn back around and begin to fight against the wind to move. At first, it feels like you’re cemented to the ground, but ever so slightly, it becomes easier to move. You push harder, fearing that if it’s easier for you, it’ll be easier for your followers to move as well.

Wetness suddenly hits your face, distracting you and causing you to look back up at the sky. Rain too? Of course, it makes sense, but there weren’t even any clouds thirty seconds ago. The sky opens up moments later, dropping so much rain on you that you’re drenched instantly. It pelts against you almost painfully, like thousands of needles being jabbed in your skin, and you cry out before you can stop yourself.

Turning your head towards the buildings alongside you, you search for a place to hide out. You can’t stay in this rain any longer, and when you glance behind you, you notice most of the creepy people fleeing the storm, making your sense of urgency dwindle. What you need to do now is find shelter, then as soon as the storm lets up, you can go get help.

Taking a step towards the buildings on your side, you notice a shape approaching you and you immediately tense up. The creepy people didn’t leave like you thought. They just went around to trap you instead. You quickly back away as the figure moves closer to you and notice it’s not as hard to move as it was. The wind is starting to let up as is the rain, allowing you to see the person approaching you.

You blink a few times as you take in his sudden appearance.

“Kyungsoo?”

“Come with me,” he urgently tells you, holding his hand out for you to grab.

You look between his hand and his face as you try to push past the startling confusion you’re feeling. What the hell is he suddenly doing here, and why does he want you to go with him?

“Please! We don’t have a lot of time!”

The urgency in his voice has you looking over your shoulder. You didn’t have a lot of time? Is he talking about those people? How would he know about anything that’s going on?

“Where?” You turn back to him and shout to be heard over the rain.

“Please, just trust me!” He yells, looking behind you.

You send one more peek over your shoulder before glancing down at his hand. Changmin’s words telling you not to trust Kyungsoo work their way into your mind, but you squash them. You barely know Changmin, and a part of you feels like you can trust Kyungsoo. He, at least, feels safer than being out on these streets alone at night.

Taking a deep breath, you place your hand in his and allow him to pull you back in the direction he came from. The two of you run toward the end of the block, and then he pulls you around the corner, where you see a black car already running and waiting for you.

He opens the backdoor, and without question, you jump in. You look up as you find your seat and come face to face with another man. Your movements halt, but Kyungsoo jumps in after you, blocking your only exit. You look up to the front of the car and see two more unfamiliar men in the driver and passenger seats.

Oh. You fucked up. There’s no possible way jumping in an unfamiliar vehicle with three strangers and someone you barely know isn’t a fuck up.

“What the hell, Kyungsoo?” You turn and hiss at him.

“Calm down. Everything’s going to be okay.” He tells you as he places his hand on your arm.

You immediately move away from him, not wanting him to touch you. “Like hell it is!”

Tearing your gaze from Kyungsoo, you look at the other men in the car, and that’s when it hits you. Not a single one of them is paying any attention to you. They’re all concentrating on something behind you, outside of the vehicle. You take a moment to study them as they focus on whatever it is they’re doing.

Next to you is a thin man with brushed-back hair. You see his eyes focusing on the trees as they almost violently sway, and you assume he’s as curious about the wind as you. In the driver seat is a shorter, muscular man. He stares out at the rain like he’s almost in a daze, and an unnerving feeling begins to prod at your skin. Lastly, in the passenger seat is another man, but his face is turned away from you. All you can tell is that he’s looking up at the sky like it holds all the answers.

Slowly, you turn to face Kyungsoo, who’s looking out the back of the car in the direction you came from. He must feel your eyes on him because he quickly turns to face you. You try to find your voice to speak, but the most that comes out is a whisper.

“What the fuck is happening?”

Before he can answer you, you feel movement from your side, and you immediately snap your head in that direction. You meet the cautious stare of the man next to you, the one who was watching the trees, and blink a few times before you realize how quiet it has gotten.

Reluctantly, you pull your gaze away from the man and look out the window, noticing the storm had disappeared as quickly as it came. The night is now silent and eerie. The trees no longer sway, the rain no longer drops, and the lightning is long gone. You sit frozen as you try to figure out how any of this is logically possible until you realize that it’s not just the man next to you that is focused on you. The two men in the front are as well.

You turn to look at Kyungsoo, the only one you know. “You have about five seconds to tell me what the hell is going on.”

He searches your face a moment before nodding. “You’re in danger.”

You quickly open your mouth to argue with how absurd that sounds, but he holds his hand up to quiet you.

“Those people are after you, and they’re not going to stop until you’re dead.”

Tagging: @haveanotherkpopblog @iibonniee @making-me-blush @monbabyzshoebill @jay-scenarios @svmmi-viv @quaaacky @lunaselenamoon98 @moonlightcandy00 @kpop---scenarios @baekhyunsdangerouswoman @bellapinkrose @sanaxking

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leviskitten · 4 years ago

Note

hello, could you make a jotaro alphabet nsfw hc, please?

𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝒂𝒍𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒆𝒕 ♡

Jotaro Kujo x reader(gn!)

Warnings: general NSFW themes,

A/n: hiya! Of course I can, hope you enjoy!

♡彡 A = Aftercare : What are they like after sex?

• Naturally, he’s gonna soften down after y’all finish. He’s aware of his size *ahem* and that he can be a little too harsh sometimes without realizing, so he’s gonna be making sure you’re alright and stuff, running you a warm bath and making you drink water cuz yknow, you gotta stay hydrated. (He might even carry you bridal style to the bathtub and wash your hair, but you didn’t hear that from me oop)

♡彡 B = Body : What’s their favorite body part of theirs? And yours?

• He probably doesn’t even have a favorite body part of neither his or your body, because he really couldn’t care less about that (he’s def a personality>looks kinda guy and you cannot tell me otherwise). However he secretly enjoys when you hold onto his arm, whether it is when you’re outside walking or when you need the ~support~ because he’s just pounding into you that hard. So I guess we’re gonna go with his arms for this one.

♡彡 C = Cum : Anything to do with cum basically.

• Homeboy has some thick white cum, I just know it. Another massive load fella, however he can (or prefers rather) only cum once.

Don’t get me wrong, he will make you cum multiple times if you want, but he’s fine with one thanks. Also, he probably isn’t that much into messy sloppy sex, so he cums either inside you or in your mouth, nowhere else (there are some exceptions to this but they’re oddly specific and rare so).

♡彡 D = Dirty Secret : Share a dirty secret of theirs.

• If he knows he’s gonna go on a long trip because of his job, he’s going to ~borrow some of your panties to masturbate with.

He usually borrows two, one that has your scent all over it, and another one to wrap around his cock as he jerks off. Sometimes (if you guys happen to be on a call), he might forget to pull it away before he cums, which ends up putting him in a bad mood because now he has to wash it and it won’t smell like you anymore :(

♡彡 E = Experience : How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?

• He’s not very experienced to be honest, I feel like he may had had some hookups here and there but they were probably kinda shitty and awkward. So you’re going to have to guide him a little bit the first couple of times, good thing he’s a quick learner lol.

♡彡 F = Favorite Position : Self explanatory

• Boring man probably doesn’t have one istg 🙄🙄

Jk he isn’t boring, but yeah he probably doesn’t have one, as long as he can get a good look of your face while you’re at it it’s fine with him.

♡彡 G = Goofy : How serious are they during the moment? Do they like to joke around?

• He literally looks like this 😐🧍like 98% of the time, do you really think he’s gonna start acting up now?????

If you laugh at something doing the deed with him he’s gonna look at you dead in the eyes until you stop laughing so he can continue, and it’s kinda scary ngl (or even more funny depending on the situation).

♡彡 H = Hair : How well groomed are they? Does the carpet matches the drapes?

• I kinda headcannon that he’s more on the thick hairy side, however he always trims himself down there, he doesn’t like to look unkept in some way (or at least that’s what he thinks idk). And yeah of course it matches, actually I feel like it’ll be curlier than his actual hair (but you’ll probably never get to see that lol).

♡彡 I = Intimacy : How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.

• His love language is acts of service, that’s literally canon. So he probably won’t be too romantic or intimate per se, but he will definitely make sure you’re having the time of you life when you’re with him. He might even care more about getting you off rather than himself.

♡彡 J = Jack off : Masturbation headcannon.

• I feel like he probably didn’t really masturbate that often until you guys got together. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not that he doesn’t enjoy the sex, he does, a lot. Actually, I feel like his sex drive might have increased after the first couple of rounds of actually enjoyable sex with you. However, he probably has to go on trips a lot because of his job, and that’s where he finds himself missing you in many ways, including in bed.

♡彡 K = Kink : One or more of their kink.

• Surprisingly enough, he isn’t that kinky, but there are a couple of things that he does enjoy, like:

— praise (both ways), scratching and biting (receiving), edging (both ways), and he probably has a mild size and breeding kink. Oh, and he also kinda likes when you suck on his fingers.

♡彡 L = Location : Favorite place to do it.

• The bedroom. Easy, comfortable and private, pretty much perfect in his opinion.

♡彡 M = Motivation : What turns them on/keep them going?

• Your praise, and when he can tell that you’re enjoying yourself.

He has sub tendencies (*ahem* might actually sub if asked nicely) so tell him that he’s doing so well or that he’s making you feel so good and he might cum right there and then.

♡彡 N = No : Something that they wouldn’t do/turn off’s

• Anything public, extreme degradation and extreme impact play or something like that.

I don’t think I really have to go in depth as in to why not, but let’s just say that he’s a reserved guy who’s very aware of his size and strength and how mean he can get if he wants to.

♡彡 O = Oral : Preference on giving/receiving, skill, etc.

• Being completely honest, he might prefer receiving a little more, but he also loves getting you off multiple times only with his mouth so...

He wasn’t very skilled tbh (he was pretty bad actually let’s be real here), but with some practice and your guidance he got pretty damn good ngl. You trained him well >:)

♡彡 P = Pace : Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc

• Fast and rough by nature baby.

However he will slow down if asked, and during the first few times.

♡彡 Q = Quickie : Their opinion on quickies, how often, etc.

• Not the biggest fan really, but still enjoys a casual quick blowjob/handjob every once in a while.

♡彡 R = Risk : Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? Etc.

• If you happen to have a kink that he either never heard about before, or didn’t really pay attention to, than he might be more open to experiment it with you and indulge you in it. However if they’re way too extreme he might hesitate and hold back a bit. He enjoys a couple of risks, as long as it’s between his and your boundaries.

♡彡 S = Stamina : How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?

• Are you kidding he can almost literally go on forever if you wanted to. He lasts pretty long actually, he has good self control after all ;)

♡彡 T = Toys : Do they own toys? Do they use them? On themselves or his partner?

• Probably wouldn’t really think about buying some unless you bring it up. You guys probably own a couple of basics (bullet vibrators and maybe a dildo), so he can use them on you. Wouldn’t mind if you use them on him when he subs tho.

♡彡 U = Unfair : How much do they like to tease?

• He doesn’t tease often because it’s not really his thing, HOWEVER, when he does tease... let’s just say that you’re in for a ride.

His way of teasing it’s almost torture tbh, and it’s mainly touches, or some warning of what he’ll do to you if you’re the one teasing too much. He mainly does it to stop you from teasing him, but this doesn’t mean that you won’t feel a hand going up your thighs randomly every once in a while.

♡彡 V = Volume : How loud are they? What sounds do they make? Etc.

• He isn’t really that loud, and he doesn’t make much sound sadly. It’s mainly deep grunts and gasps, might moan when he cums after a while.

♡彡 W = Wild card : A random headcannon for the character.

• He only subs when he’s feeling particularly vulnerable, and subconsciously needs for someone to take care of him. Or if he knows that that’s what you like and he wants to make you happy lol.

♡彡 X = X-Ray : Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes

• He’s a proud member of the thicc cock gang and you cannot tell me otherwise.

No but fr, he’s t h i c k, barely above average length, but thick. I feel like it might be a little darker than the rest of his skin, and the tip gets pretty red easily. Pretty veiny too, and he’s uncut.

♡彡 Y = Yearning : How high it their sex drive?

• It wasn’t too high before, but it kinda is now. He kinda became addicted to how you feel around him ngl, and also he likes how it helps him relax~

♡彡 Z = Zzz : How quickly do they fall asleep afterwards.

• He gets less tense after it for sure, but he doesn’t really get sleepy. He can do it and than carry on with his day (after making sure you’re alright of course) if needed, or he can also let you cuddle against him and get some rest if he wanted to.

#jotaro kujo #kujo jotaro #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro headcanons #jotaro kujo headcanons #jotaro part 4 #jotaro part 3 #jotaro imagine #jotaro x y/n #part 3 jotaro #part 4 jotaro #part 4 jojo #jojo x reader #jojo hcs #jojo headcanons #jotaro smut #[🎀]— txt.

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secretlyblue12 · 3 years ago

Text

Day 3: Distraction

Day 3! I wasn't quite sure what direction I wanted to go in this one, but wanted to bring the sbi brothers in somehow XD hehehe, can't think of any triggers for this one off the top of my head.

It wasn’t a good plan. Tommy hated the plan, actually, but he didn’t have much of a say in the matter. Wilbur had deemed him the distraction, and so now he had to figure out a way to get Techno focused on him long enough for Wil to sneak into his room and put random shit all over it from outside.

It shouldn’t be too difficult, he thought to himself. Techno was already out sitting next to the porch, but he was bound to know something was up if he saw the two of them going inside together.

Tommy took a deep breath, not quite sure how he was going to pull this off, but ready to do whatever it took.

“Hey, Tech. What’re you reading there?”

The Piglin didn’t even bother to glance up at him before responding with a resounding, “What do you want?”

Tommy stuttered to a halt and fell into the familiarity of their usual interactions. “What do you mean, I don’t want anything. Can’t I just be taking an interest in my big brother for once? You know-”

Techno scoffed, marking his page and setting his journal off to the side. “You never just take an interest without having some kind of ulterior motive. Let’s cut to the chase then, what do you need?” Which he wasn’t exactly wrong, Tommy had a tendency to ask for things a lot, but still!

“I’ll have you know I just wanted to see how you were doing, is that so bad? Besides, it’s been a long time since you’ve told me about what you were reading or practicing.” He whined, sitting down next to the middle child. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Wilbur sneaking into the house from around the back. “So talk, tell me about whatever it is the great Technoblade does in his free time.”

Techno didn’t look amused or convinced but didn’t push Tommy away when he settled across from him in the grass. “Mhm, sure. The book I was reading before you came over is the history of the roman empire and its rule, but you hate history so if that’s all you wanted you’re free to leave now.”

Wilbur was running back and forth to pick up different items, a bucket of snow, the occasional flower or animal. Tommy had to fight not to laugh when Wilbur struggling to catch a rabbit.

“What’re you laughing at?” Techno asked with a suspicious glint in his eye. He started to turn around to look behind him when Tommy all but flung himself into his lap.

“Wait! I- um, tell me about it. I was just thinking about something funny, I want to know about the ramen empire.”

“Roman.”

Techno relaxed back down much to Tommy’s surprise. “Fine,” He said, grabbing Tommy around his waist and keeping him captive in his lap. This could only spell trouble for him, Tommy thought, squirming slightly in the olders grasp. “But you learn better by doing so I’ll use your body so you remember. Okay, so it all started when The Romans came over and defeated Greece in the battle of-”

Tommy jumped when he felt Techno’s hands slide under his shirt and move from one side across his stomach to the other. “Wait a minute, Techno, I-”

“Quiet Tommy, otherwise you’ll miss it. You’d like this part cause it had a lot of fighting. So they took over Greece and there was this big battle called the battle of Cornith which is the fall and official transfer pretty much. Here, I can simulate what it would have looked like,” Techno shushed him, before digging into both sides of the softness in his stomach, jumping from side to side every few seconds to keep him guessing.

“Tehehechnoho naha, I dohon’t need ihit! I gehet it!” Tommy cried out, kicking his legs and trying to push the offending hands away, not that he was having much luck. Every poke and prod caused him to jerk one way or the other, but that just moved Techno’s hand to a new spot which made him jump right back. It was an endless cycle.

“I really think this is going to help you remember Tommy, quit fooling around and laughing, I’m trying to teach you about a serious historic moment.”

Techno continued, moving from different battles until he eventually was just sharing the different myths he thought were interesting while scribbling one hand over Tommy’s belly and the other up near his neck. Tommy had forgotten all about what Wilbur was meant to be doing, though he guessed he did work as a distraction.

Tommy was practically melted against Techno by the time he stopped, huffing and still giggling to himself while rubbing the tingles off his skin.

Techno just picked his book back up, letting Tommy get his bearing at his own rate, though the teen didn’t seem to want to get out of his lap any time soon. Techno was warm and comfortable, and Tommy didn’t feel like moving anymore.

He stayed in that half-doze until Phil called them all in for dinner. That night he’d hide in his room, listening to Wilbur’s frantic laughter and pleas for mercy after Techno finally made it into his, now destroyed, room.

#mcytickletober #mcyt tickle #day 3 #lee!tommyinnit #ler!technoblade #tickle fic #tickling #blue's fic #mcyt #mcyt tickle fic

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jayeray-hq · 3 years ago

Text

Br(Atsumu)

Hey everyone! This is the piece for @maizumis sfw brat collab! It's 100% sfw and if you enjoy it make sure to check out the Masterlist!

If you like this and want to see more of my writing for Atsumu check out my Character Masterlist!

Post Time Skip/Manga Ending Spoilers!

Warnings: None all Fluff

You watched amused as Atsumu slumped over the counter of his brother’s restaurant, arms pressed to his sides dejectedly and cheek smooshed against the hard surface. You couldn’t see his face from the angle you were at, but there was no doubt in your mind he had a pout on his face.

Osamu was standing behind the counter, clearly purposefully ignoring his brother’s sulking as he shaped onigiri in his hands, a thoroughly exasperated look on his face. His head lifted when he heard the bell overhead ring as you entered the shop, but a quick finger to your lips kept him from greeting you by name.

“Welcome to Onigiri Miya what can I get ya?” he chimed automatically, the usual bored drawl in his voice.

“How much for your twin?” you asked, your voice making Atsumu jerk a little in recognition, though he didn’t bother lifting his head, choosing instead to heave a sigh and pointedly ignore you, letting you know exactly what kind of mood your boyfriend was in.

“You can have that for free,” Osamu told you, face scrunched up in disgust, “In fact if yer haulin’ trash outta my restaurant I almost feel like I should be payin’ you instead.”

“Who you callin’ trash, ya scrub,” Atsumu sneered at his brother, finally raising his head to glare at his brother.

“Who else but you, ya trashy scrub!” Osamu retorted, not impressed in the slightest.

Luckily there was no one else in the restaurant at the moment to watch their antics, because while you found them entertaining you knew some found them more than a bit intimidating. Still you didn’t think either twin would be too happy if they actually started brawling in Osamu’s restaurant so you walked up behind your boyfriend, threading your fingers through his hair and gently tugging backwards until his head was resting against your chest.

He immediately quieted down a bit, though you could tell from the look on Osamu’s face that he was still glaring at his twin. Carefully you rested a hand on his shoulder and stroked your fingers through the soft golden waves, massaging his scalp in a way you knew he loved as you asked, “Rough day, Tsumu?”

He let out a huff, but didn’t bother to respond, clearly purposefully ignoring you, even if he didn’t actually pull away from your hands. You rolled your eyes at this childish behavior exchanging a look with Osamu.

“Don’t do that,” Atsumu hissed at the two of you.

“Do what?” Osamu demanded exasperated.

“Talk to each other like I ain’t sittin’ right here in front of ya,” your boyfriend retorted angrily.

“Ya really need to get yer ears cleaned out if ya thought we were talkin’ ya deaf scrub,” Osamu hissed, thoroughly fed up with your boyfriend who was clearly looking to pick a fight.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re ignoring me Tsumu?” you asked patiently, knowing that when he got in this kind of mood patience was the best way to deal with him. If you snapped back or got sarcastic it would only escalate the situation.

“It’s only fair,” he grumbled, still pointedly not looking at you, “Since you’ve been ignorin’ me all day.”

“Ignoring you?” you repeated completely and utterly baffled, “But weren’t you practicing with the rest of the Black Jackals today? And you know I was working too.”

“Ya didn’t let me kiss ya goodbye this mornin’ and ya ignored my texts all day,” Atsumu sulked, “I was startin’ to think ya weren’t even goin’ ta come fer our monthly dinner.”

“I was going to be late, and you were refusing to wake up,” you told your boyfriend reasonably, more amused than annoyed now that you knew what was bothering him, “But I still kissed you goodbye Tsumu and I even left a note for you.”

“Ya left a note?” he asked, voice perplexed though still sulky, “Where? I didn’t see it.”

“In the fridge on top of the bento I packed for you last night,” you told him puzzled that he hadn’t seen it, “Where I was sure you’d see it.”

“I forgot to bring my lunch,” he told you miserably, which definitely helped to explain his mood. Atsumu almost never ate if he didn’t bring his lunch with him insisting the food wasn’t good enough and didn’t match his diet plan. However, when he didn’t eat he tended to get hangry, which had no doubt contributed quite a bit to his foul mood.

“Sounds like a you problem,” Osamu jeered, clearly unimpressed. He of all people knew how nasty his brother could get when he didn’t eat. You gave him a look over his brother’s head again, trying to tell him not to rile him up again, and he raised his hands in surrender.

“Yer doin’ it again,” Atsumu whined, though he’d lost the slightly bitter edge from before.

“If you don’t like it, then maybe you should turn and look at me, so I can’t talk over your head anymore,” you pointed out mildly, feeling a bit like you were dealing with a sulking toddler, but willing to indulge him for now seeing as these kinds of moods were rare nowadays, something Ojirou had told you was clearly a long awaited sign of maturity from the former Inarizaki setter.

Your boyfriend huffed, but in the end swiveled his seat to look at you as you took the seat next to him. However you knew exactly what to do to coax him out of his bad mood. Gently you cupped his face in your palms and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, pulled back for a second, then pressed a longer lingering one to his willing mouth.

“There,” you assured him nuzzling your nose against his affectionately before pulling back, “The kiss goodbye I owed you from this morning, and a kiss to say I’m sorry.”

“Ya forgot to give me a kiss hello,” he pointed out, though you could see the corners of his lips pull upwards as you coaxed him out of his mood.

You grinned and leaned forward to press another kiss to his lips, enjoying the feel and the warmth of it as he cupped your face with one of his hands and held you close for a long moment both of you ignoring Osamu who was fake gagging in the background.

“But why didn’t ya text me?” Atsumu asked you when you parted again, his forehead resting on yours as he peered at you with anxious honey brown eyes, “I thought ya were mad at me.”

“My phone is dead,” you told him, with an affectionate huff, pulling it from your pocket and handing it over, “I must’ve forgotten to charge it last night.”

“Oh,” he told you, playing with the power button and refusing to meet your eyes clearly a little embarrassed at his overreaction, though he did quietly clarify, “So yer not mad?”

“I don’t think I have anything to be mad about,” you admitted, then teased, “Unless you’ve done something I should know about…?”

“No!” he protested immediately hands waving wildly in front of him as he declared his innocence looking entirely too alarmed, “I haven’t done anythin’ I swear!”

“I believe you,” you told him with an amused giggle, grabbing one of his flailing hands and interlacing your fingers together.

“Ya shouldn’t,” Osamu interjected with a huff, “If he hasn’t done somethin’ stupid recently I’ll eat my hat, and if he really hasn’t then he’s goin’ to be due fer it in the near future.”

“I’m not that bad,” Atsumu hissed at his twin, thoroughly offended.

“Ya are,” Osamu jeered, though it was more on the teasing end of things, “Otherwise ya wouldn’t have come in here and moped around, floppin’ all over my counter like an ugly fish and makin’ a nuisance of yerself because ya thought yer girl was mad at ya.”

“How can ya call me any sort of ugly when we have the same face!” Atsumu complained, exasperated. The argument was one you’d heard a thousand times now from both twins and somehow it never ceased to amuse you.

“It’s cuz I ain’t a whiney baby like you,” Osamu huffed.

“Princess, tell him I ain’t a whiney baby,” Atsumu whined, completely proving Osamu’s point and making you giggle helplessly as he pouted at you, informing you, “Yer my girlfriend, yer supposed to be on my side.”

“I am on your side,” you assured him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his pouting lips unable to help yourself, even as you told him, “But you are a bit of a brat Tsumu.”

“A what?” Atsumu asked, thrown by your use of English. He’d gotten better at speaking it a bit, picking up words here and there, though he did get thrown off sometimes when you threw out random words.

“A BrAtsumu?” Osamu repeated, his head cocked to the side in utter confusion.

You gaped at him for several seconds repeating the word over in your mind giggles beginning to spill from your mouth as both twins looked on with identical looks of confusion on their faces. The looks only made things worse and you began to howl with laughter, nearly falling out of your chair if not for Atsumu’s steadying hands.

“Brat – Tsumu, Bratsumu,” you managed to stutter out, wheezing as you tried to catch your breath, “It’s perfect, Osamu it’s perfect.”

“I don’t get it,” the onigiri chef informed you flatly, though you could see the corners of his lips curled upwards, amused at your amusement if nothing else.

“Brat means gaki,” you explained as you caught your breath, clutching Atsumu’s forearms for balance earning a snort of amusement from your boyfriend’s twin.

“Oy, oy, should ya really be callin’ yer boyfriend a brat,” Atsumu protested, though you could tell he wasn’t actually upset, just exasperated, “Especially when I just saved ya from either face plantin’ or crackin’ yer head open. What happens if I decide to drop ya huh?”

“Then I guess I’ll have to do this,” you told him lunging forward to wrap your arms around him instead to better brace yourself.

He caught you easily with a huff of amusement and cuddled you close pressing a tender kiss to your hair before he nuzzled his face into your neck with a warm chuckle as he asked, “So guess that means ya love me after all, even if ya are makin’ fun of me.”

“I always love you Tsumu,” you assured him affectionately, pulling back slightly so you could peer up into his eyes and hoping he could see how serious you were about this, “Even when you’re being a BrAtsumu.”

“Love ya too princess,” he told you fondly pressing a soft kiss to your hairline, “Gonna love ya fer ever, and m’sorry fer bein’ a pain today. Was just rough, cuz I thought ya were mad at me, an I woke up late, forgot my lunch, and didn’t do well in practice.”

“It’s okay Tsumu,” you assured him tenderly, “You weren’t that bad, though I’d appreciate if in the future you talked to me before getting angry.”

“I will,” he assured you nuzzling close.

You sighed in utter contentment, enjoying the feel of his arms, though you knew you probably shouldn’t stay too long. You were in public after all.

“Would the two of ya knock it off with the lovey dovey crap already, yer goin’ to scare away my customers,” sure enough, Osamu interrupted, though he looked more fond than annoyed, even if he was clearly giving it a go, “An where’s my apology huh? It was my counter ya were attemptin’ to merge with.”

“Thanks for putting up with us Osamu,” you told him sincerely, cutting in before your boyfriend could, meaning every word. The man really did put up with a lot at times and you really were grateful for it.

“Yeah well, the least I can do fer ya fer puttin’ up with my lump of a twin,” Osamu told you clearly a little embarrassed as he pulled off his cap and ruffled his hair, heaving a sigh, “Yer really good fer him ya know, too good if ya ask me, but thanks fer takin’ care of the scrub.”

“It’s my pleasure,” you told him honestly, “He may be a scrub, but he’s my scrub and I really do love him you know.”

“I know,” Osamu told you with a fond smile, “Of all people I’m glad it’s you that’s goin’ ta be my future sister-in-law.”

“Oy, what did I tell the two of ya about talkin’ like I ain’t here,” Atsumu protested, though there was a slightly wavering edge to his voice that told you he didn’t actually mind all that much, the pink flush on his cheeks letting you see how touched he was, even as he rushed to change the subject, “Besides we’re here fer food Samu so why aren’t ya feedin’ us?”

“Fine, fine,” Osamu told him, rolling his eyes and clearly deciding to concede just this once, “What do ya want ya big glutton.”

As the twins bickered a bit you couldn’t help but smile, enjoying the warmth of Atsumu’s arm around your waist and the way you could clearly see how both twins kept an eye on your comfort even as they argued, always sure to include you in the conversation and to let you know you were free to interject at any time.

Osamu had always made sure you felt like you were part of the family, and Atsumu, though he could be a brat at times, but he was your brat and he doted on you like nothing else. Looking at them you could almost see the future, with you solidly at Atsumu’s side coming to visit Osamu in his shop so you could all catch up together, hopefully someday with a spouse for Osamu too if he wanted one, and children that would argue the same way the twins did causing mayhem wherever they went.

It was a lovely dream for the future, one you hoped with all your heart would become reality, but for now you were content to simply enjoy the moment savoring every second of being loved by the biggest brat you knew.

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