#AND HES SO FAR UP HIS ASS HE FORGOT. somewhere along the line he forgot. he missed the point. he spiraled too deep.

[im-smart-i-swear]

guy trapped in a hell of his own creation: haha ive never done anything wrong in my entire life. and im always right:] anyway. why did my little brother move out:(

its so funny to me that at first glance tashi seems like hed be the most 'normal' out of all the clones but at least all the others are slowly healing n shit while hes just getting more and more insane each day and one day hell snap and explode and maim someone

[skylarsblue]

⛤Bo Sinclair ~ Fluff Alphabet⛤

Content: Gender Neutral Reader, the occasional mention of past abuse, mentions of his temper. Note: This is very old, in fact, I forgot it existed. But I re-read it, and it still held up well enough for me. Given my silence as of recent, I figured I should post...something. Divider By @v6que

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?) Bo’s a bit superficial, admittedly. It’s not something he can really deny, nor does he try to. He’ll readily admit to a few past flings that were insufferable, but pretty. It’s not hard for him to be lured in by plush curves and some simple sweet talking. Deep down, he’s a lonely man with a hard time finding connection. I will say he’s a bit of a chubby chaser, for one. It’s not required but he certainly likes his plushness. In general though, though he’s got vanity, he’s not picky. Pretty is pretty, there are many kinds. Be it a nice ass, a doe eyed gaze, or an alluring voice. 

What’s harder to understand is what he looks for in personality. Again, he won’t be actively looking for a deep, intimate connection on an emotional level. It sort’ve just…happens. He’s not sure how and he probably tries to resist it. But this is where it stops being about what he wants and more so what he needs. He needs someone with a lot of patience, some sternness, and the ability to read between lines. He’s not good at expressing how he really feels, sometimes he doesn’t even know what he’s feeling, so he doesn’t know what he should do about his emotions. That’s where you need to be able to notice and take action for him, even if he bitches about it.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?) Bit of a 50/50 here. He’s never thought too hard about it, because he didn’t see a need to. He never planned on getting tied down in any form, and he definitely doesn’t see himself as the fathering type. But, while he’s unaware of it, he has a soft spot for kids somewhere in that hardened shell. Bo just doesn’t know it’s there. Be it of his own blood or a bundle of joy left on his doorstep in a woven basket. At first, he’s terrified. He leaves, he isolates, he panics. But it doesn’t take much more than an innocent giggle and a wide eyed gawk to get him softening. Somewhere in his ribs there’s a child aching for the care he and his brothers never got. He can’t get a do over, but he can prevent it from happening again. He raised his brothers, he loves them beyond words. Being in charge of a baby was basically what he was when Lester was born. Even if it scares him to death, he could be convinced. 

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?) Bo will swear up and down he’s no cuddler, and he’s an absolute fucking liar. It’s just hard for him to find a cuddling position that doesn’t feel too restrictive, which is why he thinks he’s not into it. But he’s starved for gentle contact, and he enjoys the rare feeling of safe peace. During the day, you’re only likely to get subtler stuff. Getting to sit across his lap, letting you mess with his hands, hug his arm, etc. 

But at night, no matter how far away on the bed he starts, he ends up in your vicinity. One of his favorite positions, aside from classing spooning, is when he gets to lay on top of you. Between your legs with his head on your sternum, listening to your heart. It’s one of the few times he lets himself stop being on edge, to fully relax. Bonus if you run your nails along his back and shoulders. Hum a lullaby if you feel like it. Best sleep he’ll ever get.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?) He doesn’t really take you on dates. Not that he doesn’t like them or anything, he just doesn’t often have the time or energy to take you places. Especially if it’s early on. He’s got trust issues, for the first few years he’s worried you’ll run. But that doesn’t mean it never happens, unlike the case with most slashers, he has the means, money, and the lack of a wanted poster on a bulletin somewhere.

He probably won’t go for anything fancy, it’s not his style and it makes him uncomfortable. He’s a vain humble man, an oxymoron. The town outside of Ambrose has its local diner, its little shops, a bar. These are the typical places he’ll take you. If it’s an anniversary and you show you want something more conventionally romantic, he’ll take you to Baton Rouge or a picnic, depends on your preference.

E = Everything (You are my___ (e.g. my life, my world)

   “My do-over.”

It sounds insulting at first, but that’s not how he means it. Bo has been in a routine his entire life, and every stage, every routine, has always been with big negatives. As a child; he’d act out because of the treatment his parents gave, they’d “discipline” him, he’d do it over again. As a teen; he’d get into trouble, weasel his way out of it, do it over again. 

But what he’s never gotten is an actual restart on life. He’s never gotten to, in his soul, start over. He’s always been carrying all his bad decisions and pain with him. So, when you show up, and give him a break in the pattern, it gives him the ability to get a do-over. Nothing will change on the outside, not immediately anyway. However, on the inside, he feels different. You make him feel like a different man even if his behavior hasn’t changed. 

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?) It’s hard to say. He knows his attraction to you is deeper than normal, but the concept of love scares him. It’s a bit too new, a bit too vulnerable. Still, he can’t help but enjoy it. It’s slow to set in, slow to be put in place. He’ll rarely, rarely, say it, and when it finally hits him that his feelings for you aren’t going away, it scares him away. But he comes back. It’ll at least take two years to properly be set, but you’ll see the signs near the end of year one. If you’re observant, that is.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?) Bo is all sharp metal and stinging cuts. He’s never been treated gently and his hands show it, both in scars and in his grip. It’s not that he really means to be rough with you, not in a way that’s unenjoyable anyway. You’re obviously in a very different situation than anyone else, so while he knows how much pressure to apply to your throat, or the crease of where your thigh meets your hip, his gentleness is unpracticed. It’s shaky and uncertain. His gentleness comes from inside, allowing you to see him more as himself than the mask he puts on for strangers, or the hardass he pretends to be for the sake of his emotional safety.

It’s in long glances with admiration behind the pupils. In the slope of his shoulders as they come at ease beside you. The hand he rests possessively on your lower back when you’re in the kitchen. It’s in the moments you catch him at his weakest and he doesn’t run away, but to you instead.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?) Bo’s not much of the hand holding type. He prefers his hand in your back pocket, around your waist, or you hugging his arm. Still though, every now and then it’s that little bit of contact he needs, without being too much. Usually when driving. He’ll lock your fingers together, feel the skin of your palm press against his. Especially if your hands run cold, he’ll always make a comment about it, blow hot air on the back of it in order to warm your hand up.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?) The same as everyone else, really. Likely finding you attractive, another pretty face he’ll have to shoot at. His opinion only changes when he sees how you behave, how the others around you treat you, how you treat him as a stranger. It’ll start to shift. He’s met nice people before, even let a few go because of their situation. Like a single mother looking for gas or a young teen boy on the run from his parents. 

He could justify why he’d let you live, what he doesn’t understand is why he can’t let you go either. Not just because you could tell the cops. But something deeper in him aches at the thought, that long loneliness that he’s been denying for so long.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?) He absolutely is a jealous man. As confident as he can be, he hates gawking eyes running over you. He’s possessive, and while you’re not an object, he does feel like he owns you in a certain way. You can have your free will, but he’s stamped his name on your heart, and he intends to put his initials everywhere he can reach. He won’t show it all the time, it’ll start subtly. Cracking his jaw, a glare, a little less southern kindness in his act. 

God forbid someone come onto you though. It’s not jealousy then, he’s enraged at the audacity. He’s a murderer, one with little to no morals and a severe lack of empathy. But he draws the line at you. Doesn’t matter if he’d a hypocrite, if he had behaved in a similar flirtatious way with taken individuals before you. With you, no one gets any leeway. 

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?) 50/50 based on time, but most likely him. If your timeline includes heavy resistance on your part, he’ll initiate it. It won’t be sweet, it’ll be a move for power, even if he’s gentle. If your timeline includes you being more willing, and open, then it’ll likely be you. This way, you can make it sweet. Convey the kindness you have to him again in unspoken words, allow him to melt against you for once. It’ll be the only kiss he actually remembers. 

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?) Definitely you, and he won’t believe you at first. No matter when you first say it, or how, he’s taken aback. He thinks you’re exaggerating or you’re outright lying. Aside from brotherly love, no one has ever loved him. Not earnestly, not honestly. They may love what he can do, what he can provide, his face. But he knows at the core of his soul, he’s rotten and covered in razor wire. He understands no one wants to hold something that hurts them. But yet here you are, cradling his heart covered in razor blades, letting your blood fall down the arms he leaves kisses on in the dark, when he thinks you’re asleep. 

He’ll say it back after you’ve shown him you mean it. You haven’t walked away, you haven’t hated him, you haven’t dumbed him down to the untalented version of his twin. You’ve stayed, and you’ve cared. He says it softly, almost uncertain if the words can leave his throat. But he means it. 

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?) Coming home to you after a long day and seeing you seem like you’re enjoying yourself. Like you’ve settled into the home, like you’re no longer a prisoner and instead a member of the family. Lester & Vincent were in the same room, chatting, though Vincent silently, and laughing with you. At ease around you like he was, you at ease with them in return. With a warm meal on the stove and a pleasantness in the air. He can see you at your brightest. He swears that day you made the world slow when you looked at him, smiling, beckoning him in on the conversation.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?) Usually he does so on dates. Though dates are sparse, you never come home without him spending at least 200$, half of which went to you specifically. Does he bring you a gift home every day? No. But he knows when you deserve a spoiling, and he follows through consistently. He also struggles saying no to things you want, within reason. Suddenly, 200$ seems like a small price in comparison to your joy. Don’t think you get away without a little comment though.

“You’re a real spoiled brat, ya know that? Better thank me, at least”

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?) Bo’s not one for caring about colors. He knows his favorites are black and denim blue, but that’s about it. Still, the colors that seem to invoke emotion in him, that bring you up in his mind? The colors of the sunset. Pinks blending into purples, and eventually a deep blue. It brings him a sense of peace, and it reminds him that it's the end of the day, so he can come home to you. Listen to you rattle off about something, or sit in silence with the aura you bring into the room. Especially when the dipping sun hits your face just right. Every time it happens, it makes his breath catch in his lungs. And every time he wonders how someone so awful as him got someone so celestial as you.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?) He’s a Southern man, he’s got a surplus to pull from. A classic “sweetheart”, “hun”, and “baby” are frequent. Sometimes he throws in a “sweet thing”, or thang, if we include the accent. Darling missing the ‘G’ and sugar make an appearance now and then. But he’s also likely to give you at least one fond nickname based on something you two have discussed. 

“Anyone ever tell ya you look like a lil rabbit? Cute lil’ bunny, eh? Oh don’t get shy on me now, you had all that talk a second ago!”

As for ones he enjoys, he prefers them simple, nothing that’s over the top. “Love” & “babe” work best most of the time, but he’s got a soft spot for being called “sugar”. One that he pretends to hate but he adores? “Lover boy.” Call him that, trust me.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?) Bo isn’t really for new things anyway, aside from maybe TVs. Even his cars he prefers are old. He’s a pretty firm believer in the “quality back then was better” idea. Still, his heart always goes back to old cars, trucks specifically. He’s a simple man, he wants a simple truck that’ll do its job and last him years. He’ll never understand the hype behind sleek sports cars and shiny leather interiors. 

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?) Rain doesn’t do much for him. Unless it’s a heavy storm, he’s gonna do what he needs to do, albeit in a slightly calmer mood. He finds rain calming, even if he’s not super fond of the mess of mud Jonesy tracks in the house. Storms however, especially heavy ones, worry him. It's not that he’s afraid of lightning, and they’re far enough from the water to not have much worry of any flooding. It’s because Lester hates thunder. On these days, he tries to make an excuse to go see his baby brother. When you catch on, don’t comment, but encourage. Lester always appreciates it and it helps you see Bo’s softer side to being a big brother.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?) Bo’s self destructive, we know this. He doesn’t cope well and he doesn’t like people giving him advice on how to handle his emotions, even if he needs it desperately. On a rough day, he smokes more, he might crack open a beer, but worst of all? He hides, metaphorically. He gets loud, he snaps, he hurts the feelings of people around him because he’s upset. And apologizing isn’t his forte. The longer he’s with you, the calmer he gets, and the more likely he is to direct his anger out, but not at you and his brothers. Coax him into a rant, while he goes on about his gripes, do small things to make him comfortable. Slip a drink in his hand, sneakily place an ice pack on his sore bruises, gently play with the hair near the nape of his neck. By the end of it all, he’ll be tuckered out. Ready for a little couch nap and maybe some lovin’, if you’re alright with him laying on your lap, that is.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?) Bo’s actually the quiet type. Unless he’s angry, he doesn’t say much unprompted. He can carry a conversation though, and he has his subjects that he’ll gush about, you just have to bring it out of him. Aside from rants on cars and some random history facts from his phase as a teenager, he likes to talk about what you bring up. If you’re the talkative type, he enjoys the long conversations with all the topics you seem to pull from thin air. Lighthearted debates and such. But if you’re also the quiet type, he’s more than happy with silent company. He doesn’t need words to be entertained.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?) His hobby of fixing up cars, a cigarette, the occasional beer at dinner time. Laying on you at bed time seems to work really well, he goes as limp as a corpse, almost like his limbs are weighted by how relaxed he gets. Petting Jonesy helps, but he only does that if no one’s looking. He had other things that worked, up until someone ruined it for him.

Piano, poetry, and photography were all things he used when he was younger to ease himself. Each time though, criticism and comparison to Vincent killed his passion for it. He could pick these things up again though, should he have someone the encourage him

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?) He’s cocky, let’s be honest. He likes to show off his looks, since it's one of the few things he’s always had over his brothers, according to others. He doesn’t flaunt things like his truck or the rings he wears, although he takes pride in his appearance. Best bet he’s proud of having you beside him though. He brags a lot. To the point that the people at the bar he visits are sick of you before they even meet you. “I dunno why the bartender don’t like ya, hun. Just don’t worry bout it, she just don’t know you like I do.”

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?) He takes you out to a picnic on the back of his truck, sent a rare prayer to the lord that the weather will match his plan. You’ll probably notice how stiff he is, the tenseness in his muscles is impressive. He’ll drive you two out to a little pasture out of Ambrose, a patch of land surrounded by trees, likely near a large pond or lake. He made sure to do it in Spring, having convinced himself that doing it on the same day he got that first dream would give him better luck. 

He sits with you and slowly relaxes as you coax him out of his shell once more. Like you did all those years ago. Showing what all that barbed wire around his insides is hiding. He’ll get to reminiscing, ensuring to make you laugh. When he stops talking, it worries you. He’s just as worried. He had a speech rehearsed, he forgets it all the second his fingers touch the velvet box in his pocket. Still, Bo will manage to stutter out some paraphrased lines, keeping his gaze down. His confidence is gone, and he feels like he’s five again, begging for the approval he feels he doesn’t deserve.

But then you say yes, you say it with enthusiasm and raw emotion. Suddenly the world has air again and he can bring himself to smile, allowing you a glimpse at his soul when he gets the ring on your hand. The ceremony won’t be anything but a church service in the next town over, in his tux, you in whatever you chose. Only his brothers and Jonesy will be there, but it doesn’t matter to him. As sappy as he feels, it doesn’t feel like a bad thing.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?) ⛤Middle Finger - Bohnes ⛤Cowboy Casanova - Carrie Underwood ⛤Wrecking Ball - Mother Mother

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?) Bo has never seen himself as the type to get married. He’s never considered it really, not until you come along. For a long time, he still doesn’t think about it, until a dream hits him out of nowhere in the Spring and it tips the first domino. Whether his brain put you in a tux or white lace, it doesn’t matter, his heart palpitates all the same. It scares him. So, while the thought is now there, it still takes years for him to actually consider doing it. When he sucks it up and buys a ring, it takes him another five months to actually plan and go through with it.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?) He’s not much of an animal person. Jonesy was found by Lester, and Vincent was the one that convinced Bo to let her stay. He still swears he doesn’t like the dog, but he’s brutally beaten a man to death with his bare hands for kicking her. Simply put, if he had to pick, he’d be a dog person. Pitbulls specifically.

[izvmimi]

Izuku Midoriya is many things.

A hero inspiring a generation coming after him to do their best. The difference between safety and disarray on most days. A lover, a reluctant fighter, a good man to his bones. Your husband, your home, the father of your children.

But today, all he is managing to be is an oversized pain in your ass.

“Do not,” you warn through gritted teeth, scowling out of the corner of your eye while he reaches to tap at the side of the screen of your tablet. The page switches, loading to two pages back from where you were currently reading. “You’re skipping ahead of me. I can’t read that fast.”

You scoff, pulling the tablet away from him with one arm, stretching it further than he can currently reach without moving himself around beneath you. You’re resting in his lap, back pressed against his chest, soft kisses pressed to the top of your head periodically to remind you that he’s still behind you. And apparently also reading along with you, too.

“That’s not my problem. Go get yours and read on your own time.” You look behind you, brows furrowed but he smiles down at you. He’s never even the faintest glance short of looking head over heels for you, the same way he has looked at you since the moment he realized that pounding in his chest and sweat prickled palms were merely the first flutters of what would become a lifetime of unyielding devotion to the woman who completes him.

“But it’s so much more fun to read with you.” His chin comes down to rest atop your head, arms wrapped around your torso to hold you tightly against him. You tap the opposite side of the screen in front of you, going back to the page you were on. “If you change it again, I’m leaving and never coming back.”

Izuku chuckles, holding you tighter against his chest, the back of your head resting between his thin t-shirt clad pecs.

“And where would you go?”

You look up at him, brow raised. In all the time you’ve been together you’ve never earnestly made a back up plan knowing you’d neve really need one but if he wants to play, he forgot who his competition is. You purse your lips, setting the tablet aside, all but forgetting completely about the book you were so frustrated to be interrupted reading.

“Back home.”

He chuckles again, lifting his legs and planting his feet on the couch on either side of you to further cage you against his body. The size difference between the two of you always tends to be most apparent when you’re enveloped between large biceps and thighs, held like the most precious thing that has ever graced the planet and sometimes a lifeline. Thankfully this is not one of the lifeline times and he simply rocks you back and forth, thumbs gently massaging your hips through your yoga pants.

“Do you think I wouldn’t be able to find you there or something? Every pro there knows me and would be calling me before the day is over to let me know you’re good.” Your husband kisses your head again, squeezing you so tightly you groan playfully a little in response. “They’d probably charter a private jet just to send you home to me.”

Now this makes you giggle back, the line of your mouth curving into the beautiful smile he loves to see so much. You tilt your head all the way back and he looks down to meet your gaze, thumbs still moving in persistent circles.

“Maybe I’d find a new place to hide, somewhere far away from here.”

He leans in and kisses your forehead, your eyelids, your cheeks. Every inch of beautiful skin he can reach sitting like this, he kisses it, from scalp to the top of your ear. He is a pain in the ass, especially right now when he’s being too affectionate for you to successfully be annoyed by, but you wonder what he’s thinking when you see the faintest hint of the scrappy smile he used to get on his face when the two of you were younger.

“I’d find you there, too. The world would be too scared of who I’d become without you to let you stay away for long.”

This strikes you as an interesting thing to say. So much of his success is solely dependent on him, at least that’s what you think, but even global heroes know better. A happy, good hero comes from a happy home. Heroes here and abroad know that the Midoriya household is the gold standard of this rule of thumb, your husband always more than eager to discuss the way you seamlessly stitch his lives and identities together.

“You could go to the bottom of the sea and I’d still find you.” He half jokes, raising a brow at your twitching lips. “Space? I’d throw an astronaut out of the window and take his place.”

You laugh, shaking your head and attempting to get away from him. He pulls you to him tighter, kissing the crown of your head once again.

“The mountains? I could just lift them and throw them until they are out of my way.”

Another kiss, this time at your temple.

“Another dimension? Well, I’d find a way. They’re always inventing new technology.”

You turn around in his arms, reaching up to cup his jaw.

“So you’re telling me anywhere I go you’ll follow me?”

Izuku smiles down at you, nodding.

“Anywhere you go is where I belong too.”

i've read this like hundreds of times but just now was truly the best thank you so much for being so kind to me kendy :((

[twelfth-harbinger]

A/n: Enjoy ^^

Mentions: Zhongli convinced you that breaking a contract has its consequences.

Warnings: Nfsw!! 18+ Use of Shibari, Teasing/Denial, Oral, Edging, Mild Exhibition — Semi Soft Dom Punishments etc. don’t read if that’s not your jive lmao.

The Broken Contract Pt. 2

Soaking inside of the mildly luxurious in-ground bath remedied any and all feelings of stress, doubt and anxiety. It may have been the very perfumes and essential oils you’ve dowsed into the hot water. The most potent and fragrant of them all was that of ‘Fate’s Yearning’. The aroma lingered on your body even as you climbed out of the now lukewarm bath. The temperature had cooled beyond your liking.

Below you, the front door opened. It was an action you did not hear as you sat upstairs in front of your vanity. You now wore a robe, brown silk woven and lustrous in color. It was lined with a rich yellow gold with imprinted obsidian scales as a design around the edges and middle of the silky attire. It was clearly printed and produced by the finest seamstress one could find in Liyue. ‘Twas also made in the honor of Rex Lapis — how could you not purchase it with every intention of luring the said archon to your bedside? You couldn’t, which is why it blessed your very skin as you braided your thick hair back into a French Braid; or at least you tried your very best to. It wasn’t until you heard footsteps and the door to your bedroom sliding open did your gaze shift in the mirror to see Zhongli standing with a bag in his hand. He let it rest on the ground by the door a faint smile crossing his features as he laid eyes on you. The sun set quite some time ago, he was expected to be home around this time. This man was nothing but punctual. He met your gaze in the mirror as he strolled over to you, placing a kiss atop your head. You weren’t smiling albeit you were glad to see him. He glanced up at you in the mirror whilst he leaned down to kiss your head. Eyes glinting a bit playfully, which was simply odd coming from him; especially since he’s so stoic.

“What?” He spoke with a light smile, standing upright to remove his jacket. Still facing the mirror, your eyes narrowed a bit and they shift down to the bag only to stare back up at him. “That? Well, my dear it’s a bag.” He reached out to complete the middle of the braid for you, his hands may have been gloved yet despite that you could feel how gentle and delicate his fingers were moving. Unbeknownst to you, he was admiring your entrancing beauty. Something he hadn’t seen this close in well over a few millennia.

“Is it another book on the meaning of life?” You replied with light banter, standing up to face him with a cross of your arms as he lowered them from your hair. His eyes drifted down your figure quickly before he met your eyes. He noticed the robe but you couldn’t tell if he liked it. It was nearly impossible to get an accurate read on this man. You were kind of dreading your impending punishment. You honestly didn’t think you had it in you to sit down and read for 12 hours straight again. He chuckled, his arms crossing along with yours.

“Of course not, that was a different punishment in its own right. It wouldn’t be just if I repeated the same one.” He made a fair-ish point, alas it only made you wonder what he was going to do. He stepped forward, shortening the gap between you both. “Did you eat anything?” He asked, changing the subject. He completely dodged your comment on the contents of the bag. There was no telling what was inside and getting past him to look inside would not be easy. Looking back, whenever you sparred with him he always found a way to knock you back onto your ass; although, you’ve one upped him a few times which surprised him. He wasn’t holding back either...though, that’s a story for another time.

“Yes, I had Jade Parcels before I took a bath.” Your eyes dart to your left, touching down on the bag. It was from ‘Wanyou Boutique’, you could tell by the decorative floral design on the base corners of the bag. Zhongli’s eyes never left your face as you glanced past him, adoring your natural curiosity. He stepped around you and over to the doorway that lead to the bathroom.

“Good. I’ll be in the bath if you need me but please,” he paused before he turned his back. “Don’t look in the bag. It’ll ruin the surprise.” He vanished behind the closed door of the bath. You stood there, arms hugging your sides in a rather uncomfortable silence. What was he talking about, weren’t you supposed to endure a punishment? Did he have a change of heart somewhere during the midst of his day? No, highly unlikely — you broke a contract. Upon hearing the sound of water rushing and clothes dropping to the floor your head turned in the direction of the bag that sat by the door. Would he notice if you took a quick glance inside? Biting down on your bottom lip you quietly tip toed to the door, crouching down as your hand moved to pull the handle of the bag to the side. “Patience, my dear.” You heard, it was his deep voice that pulled you away from the bag. Zhongli’s arms crossed over his bare chest, a bronze towel clung low around his hips. Your cheeks flushed out of the embarrassment of being caught and seeing your lover nearly nude. He held out a hand, pointing to the bag before he turned his hand upright. As you rose you grabbed the bag, you didn’t dare peek inside to see it’s contents. Zhongli took it from you when you made your way over to him. He did not appear to be upset, in fact he was calm and wore a serene yet clearly blanketed expression on his face. Your brow furrowed as you voiced your confusion.

“Aren’t you mad at me?” You asked, for the first time since his arrival Zhongli’s expression softened even if it were only for a split second. He kept his stern demeanor as he shook his head in reply.

“I can never grow truly livid towards you, that doesn’t mean you don’t upset me or make me irritable. They say the ones you love bring you the most discord.” When his eyes fixed themselves on your face his pupils dilated, he loved you. He reached up, his hand resting on your round cheek. He admitted to loving you without directly saying it, could this man be evermore clever with his wording? You leaned into his touch, destitute for his affection. Again, without commenting on the bag he leaned down to place a kiss atop your head once more. Before you could question him, he disappeared behind the sliding doors of the bathroom. Your cheeks puffed out, you found yourself on the bed on the far side of the room. The large ceiling to floor windows by the bed spanned above the beautiful night view of Liyue Harbor to the left. To the right was the vast open ocean, the docks and market place. The view was breathtaking to say at the very least. You sprawled out onto the bed topped with gold and red fine silk linen. He took his time in the bath, you nearly fell asleep waiting for his return. The door slid open to the bath area and he stepped out with the bag in hand.

As Zhongli stood there, he peered down at you. His eyes were soft and hinted at his intentions quite smugly but you couldn’t seem to understand what he was trying to get at. He was glistening having just exited the bath, the bag he had now sat by the edge of the bed. You stared back at him, your eyes glimmering with desire as you crawled to the edge. You reached out for him and he obliged, stepping forward. Without any hesitation you pulled him down into a kiss, if he couldn’t tell by just looking at you, he could feel how much of an effect he had on you by just being there. Kissing you sent electricity through to the core of his very being. Your lips were plump and intoxicating, your skin smelled simply ethereal. A soft but lingering scent, akin to a mist that captures the last light of dusk. Or at least that what Zhongli believed; as well as what Ying’er told you. If he could kiss you and hold you in his arms for eternity he would. Your hands tangled in his dark hair and your grip idly tightened as you pulled him forward. The light moan that left his lips gave you goosebumps. He hasn’t been this close to you in so long, you almost forgot what his touch even felt like. Your hands slipped down his chest as you proceeded to reach for the towel. Your eyes may have been closed but you felt him smirk against your lips as he stopped your hands. He took hold of your wrists and uttered a simple and light. “No.”

You opened your eyes to see him staring back into yours with a hint of mischief. Which, might I add, it’s been throwing you off since the moment he avoided telling you what your consequences were for breaking the contract. Your brow creased and you moved to kiss him again, this time he pulled away leaving you like a lost puppy. He caught your needy gaze and physically fought the blush that might’ve risen to his cheeks. He crossed his arms over his chest and his brow creased a little as if he caved in to his own desires.

“W-Wha?” You mumbled out, sounding a little hurt for a moment. Zhongli let out a deep breath through his nose to regain his composure. He almost negated an important contract for lust. Although it wouldn’t have been his first and certainly not his last but he vowed to see this through when you so boldly stated you didn’t do anything wrong. Now he was going to make you see that you surely did. Your life meant everything to him, throwing it away so carelessly didn’t sit well with him.

“Don’t you want to see what’s inside of the bag?” He asked, piquing your interest completely. Your eyes drifted down as he bent over to place the bag on the bed. You pulled the sleeve of your robe over your shoulder, Zhongli’s bright eyes noticed your subtle movement. Your curiosity was so beautiful and caused your body language to change even if you didn’t take any heed. You scooted over to the edge of the bed and reached out to touch the bag. Zhongli placed a hand over your own. Grabbing your attention and a slight frown he found quite amusing. “Before you look inside, if you aren’t interested please let me know. I will never do anything that will make you feel uncomfortable or unsafe.” His words only made you want to look inside the bag more but what was the most endearing part of his statement was his concerning gaze and how much love it held within. You swatted his hand away, wanting to see what the contents were. Your eyes widened and you looked up at him genuinely appalled. Your eyes darted to the side as you contemplated for a second. — Were those hand-woven red silk ropes? You looked at Zhongli who waited in slight anticipation for your answer. He was ready for acceptance, denial, judgment you name it. He had lived for three thousand years. There was nothing he hadn’t seen. Or so he thought, you pulled out the rope to check how sturdy it was.

“So...old man Bolai makes things like these? That shady bastard, I knew he wasn’t just sellin-“ Zhongli chuckled his smile always seemed to crack his stone exterior. You glanced over at him as you toyed with the rope between your slim fingers.

“I had them made for your, punishment. That is if you’re willing to go through with it.” your brows raised evermore in curiosity. What was he talking about? It didn’t take very long for it to suddenly click, your cheeks warmed and you stared at him.

“Oh! ...oooh.” You mumbled completely tongue tied. You looked at Zhongli who remained calm. “How did you have them made on such short notice?” You asked, out of everything you could’ve asked him it was that. He stared at you in a bit of awe, unsure of how he could go about answering.

“I erm-“

“Wait! No, Zhongli what punishment? I’m not reading the Laws of Life Vol. 132?” He didn’t laugh, only because he knew you were seriously asking. A faint smile did cross his face through as he reached for the rope. In one swift movement be wrapped it partially around his palm and knuckles then shook his head.

“Of course not, I was thinking of shibari-“ you scoffed, your lips quirking up into a passive smile. Zhongli wasn’t really one to be trifled with but your worries melted away when he said he’d let you off the hook and fuck you instead... That is what he said right? No lol.

“That’s hardly a punishment Zhongli, I accept.” Your abrasive gaze and the challenge turned him on, he shifted a bit on the edge of the bed as a light smile began to surface onto his face.

“Are you sure?” He asked, needing your confirmation.

“Are these good for suspension- hm? Yes Zhongli I am okay with this. Feel free to...” you paused looking him over, your eyes burned his skin like heated rocks in a sauna. He utterly adored the way you looked at him. “To punish me as you see fit.” Your words were all he needed to hear. All he wanted to hear in that moment apart from the whimpers you were soon to make.

“Good.” He moved fully onto the bed crawling over to you like a dragon claiming his loot, the bed shifted under his weight as he cornered you. His hand moved up to the string of your robe. “I don’t think Rex Lapis would mind if I removed this, you wore it well. It’s unneeded now, I think your body should be on display in its stead. I’m positive he would much prefer that.” A light grin spread across his lips as he tugged the string loose, the robe slipped off from hanging onto your shoulders and pooled around you. Zhongli leaned down, his lips grazing your shin as he drank in your very essence. His touch made you shudder, you both reveled in the feeling of his lips moving up to your knee and thigh; your skin was so soft and warm. He kissed in between them before he moved up to your navel. Purposely ignoring your needy core. You writhed upon him stopping over your hardened nipples. Your chest perky as you arched your back into his skilled touch. His lips and nose buried in your neck before he met your eyes again. Your breathing hitched in your throat as he smiled down at you he was so beautiful.

“How shall I showcase you tonight? Hogtied? No...no I’ve more sophistication than that.” His eyes drifted over your nude body and his brows knitted together, like he was really trying to figure it out. He kissed your cheek, and then your lips. You didn’t care in all honesty, as long as he kept close and fed into your touched starved needs. His lips curled into a cheeky smile, something unusual for him but it oddly complimented his features. “I know.” He said sitting back, taking the soft rope in hand as well as one of your legs. His fingers gazed your skin as he bent your leg back against the underside of your thigh. “Frogtie, and then the Box-Tie for your arms. I want you exposed yet restricted; order is needed if your punishment is to be done...just.” He spoke the last word in a bit of a taunt, his eyes glinting playfully once again. Your own widened, you were still going to get punished? Damn. With careful skill and consideration, Zhongli began to wrap the soft rope around your thigh and upper shin as well as your ankles and upper thigh. You watched him whilst laying on your back he caught your gaze on him and smiled your way, it was radiant. Your cheeks felt warm again as he spread your legs and repeated his actions to your other leg.

“I didn’t know you knew how to knot properly much less be into Shibari.” He held out his hand to help you up into a kneeling position on the bed. Your words made him smile as he maneuvered off of the bed to stand, he picked up more rope from the bag as he began to secure your hands behind your back folding them gently before he began the tying and knotting process once more.

“In recent years, it’s been popular in and around all of Liyue. First used to restrain thieves and bandits, it soon rooted itself into sexual culture. It’s even found in some parts of Monstadt.” His voice soothed you, it was soft and inviting and coated in silver. “I read about it in a book and went to an...art gallery.” He went where? To a private showing of Shibari? You turned your head to look at him. Your eyes searching his face for an explanation. “Models volunteered to display themselves in light of making Shibari a renowned art form for those it may interest.” You smiled, your eyes narrowing slightly. Before you could open your mouth to speak he pulled on the rope to tighten it around your upper arm and wrists. A smirk spread across his face as he leaned over your shoulder. “Too tight?” He asked, you shook your head and as you did he pressed a sweet kiss onto your temple. “Good.”

Zhongli sat in front of you, his legs and arms crossed. You, were completely exposed for him to see. Your cheeks warmed in embarrassment as he sat there admiring your form as well as his handy work. He had only seen it preformed it was his first time attempting to knot. “Zhongli a-are you just going to sit there?” Your words pulled him away from his thoughts, your voice was small and shy. It made his brow twitch a bit.

“I could.” He replied, a hand moving under his chin in thought. “After all if I were to touch you, you’d learn nothing.” He shifted on the bed and knelt in front of you. His fingers brushing against your round cheek, the other hand slipped around your waist to pull him into his chest. Your eyes were doughy and vulnerable, Zhongli wanted nothing more than to give you what you wanted. “Tell me, sitting here have you thought about the contact at all and your actions?” He leaned down to your ear and kissed you gently, then moved down to trail warm kisses down along your neck. He moved forward to place you onto your back. Your moans were fueling the fire that began to build up inside of him.

“W-what are you talking about?” You mumbled, he halted his movements and you frowned along with him. As he moved back to look into your eyes your entire body tensed, he didn’t look happy. With everything that was happening in this moment it was quite difficult to focus on anything else. Zhongli leaned over to place a kiss on your forehead, your eye closed and you stared up at him.

“What am I going to do with you hm?” He maneuvered behind you, placing you in his lap now. He was already hard, you couldn’t help but want him to remove the towel that was wrapped snug around his hips. The feeling of you writhing in his grasp was enticing enough for Zhongli to move his hand down to your crotch. You were wet, he barely touched you and you were so fucking wet. He slipped his fingers into your heat and your lips parted to let out a moan. His free hand moved up to pinch your nipple, squeezing it between his fingers and tugging lightly. Lips grazed the skin of your neck as he toyed with your body, all you could do was whimper and writhe in his hold; was teasing you relentlessly. His fingers were magic and the slight pain from your stimulated nipples drove you crazy. You lost count at how many time you’ve cried out his name. You could feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes, being played with was overwhelming because he did very little to give you release. He chuckled, you heard it despite being absorbed in your own pleasure.

“You broke our contract and yet all I wish to do is please you. So much that you’ll beg me to stop but...” He removed his fingers from your heat, they were coated with your sweet glacé. Without any hesitation he pushed them past your lips and into your mouth. Your moan muffled as you sucked on his fingers, he watched your tongue dance around them as he pulled you further back into his chest; his free hand snaked up from your chest to wrap around your neck- he did not squeeze. You were now sitting directly on his bulge. Saying he was as hard as a rock is an understatement and a pun he probably wouldn’t find too amusing given his status as an ex-archon. “First, you’re going to sit here and think.” You turned your head as much as you could to look back him, confusion written all over your face once again. He chuckled and lowered his hands from your body he gripped the ropes that were securing your arms. Then pushed you forward and face down into the soft mattress of the bed.

“Zhongli, please...I’m sorry.” You whimpered out, already at your limit there was no way you were going be thinking straight like this. He didn’t do anything yet and you were giving in? He smiled, it was soft and held the patience of a saint.

“Are you now?” He knelt behind you, his hands on your upper waist now. He leaned over to pepper kisses along your lower back and ass before he dug his face inside. His tongue slipped down to your aching hole teasing you before he pushed past your soaking folds. You cried into the mattress upon the feeling of his hot mouth on your core. Your body began to tremble as he had his way with you, he teased you relentlessly sucking on your bundle of nerves as he plunged his thumb inside your aching core. You were so close to coming undone with just that, he pulled away slowly. Albeit only to flip you over onto your back. Your breathing had run ragged your chest squeezing together from the ropes and your eyes half lidded. You were a beautiful sight to behold when you were in heat. Zhongli’s hands moved up your waist and stomach before his right hand wrapped around your neck again, he pulled you down onto his clothed and hardened member with a smile. He liked having you sit there; still, unmoving and obedient. You were in order and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Do you want it?” He asked, his deep voice made your entire body jolt in ecstasy such simple words coming from this former god of a man. You nodded and his brow raised indicating he wanted you to use your voice.

“Yes.” You nod again, and squirm a bit underneath him. His gaze was so gentle, his touch was too it left your body starving. For even such a subtle brush of his fingers shot flames through your entire being. He didn’t budge which ushered a light whimper and a “Please..” To run past your sweet lips his own lips curled into a smile.

“You do not deserve it.” He stated, his smile faltering slightly to a more serious expression. “Do you know why?” He asked, his eyes narrowed a bit as he studied your pained face and your lips. Your body was crying out to his, he could feel it. He was unsure of how much longer he could hold on to his sanity.

“I..I thought I could do it.” You mumbled, Zhongli’s eyes shifted up to meet your gaze, upon noticing the tears forming he removed his hand and let it rest on your waist. He was a bit worried that he went too far. “I was so adamant on completing the commission and fighting those thieves that I didn’t consider anything. Not you, not the contract, my life...will you forgive me. Please.” Zhongli made an audible noise of defeat, he folded quicker than you did. His arms shifted up to wrap around you, you nestled your head into his chest as he hugged you.

“I’ve already forgiven you, you needn’t worry about that. Don’t cry.” He mumbled into your hair and closed his eyes as he rested his chin and nose atop your head. You were the only thing that could cause him any real harm emotionally, he worried about you so much that he lost sleep. If you could wrap your arms around him you would even so, as you moved back to look up at him with a smile he smiled with you. “Do you still wish to continue?” He asked, your comfort was his comfort in all honesty. You did your best to seal your lips with his, he helped and leaned down to kiss you. Pulling you closer than you thought possible. His hands rested in your braided hair as you tilted you head to deepen the kiss. He sat you back onto the bed he pulled back, his hand resting on your cheek. “I lov-“

“Are you going to keep teasing me?” You asked, cutting him off, a soft pout forming on your lips; Zhongli glanced down at them and then up to meet your eyes. He chuckled and let his hands lower to slip around your waist.

“I may, I enjoy the way you writhe in need underneath me. Your whimpers and the way my name sits upon on your tongue is a symphony I do not wish to end.” He pecked your cheek quickly and your face flushed. “At least not so soon, so please. Allow me to enjoy it a little longer.” He quite literally pushed you back onto the bed, with your legs spread automatically from the frog-tie he simply lowered himself in between your thighs. He wasted no time in licking the entrance to your heat, the surprised squeal you let run past your lips urged him to loop his arms around your thighs. He wanted to completely lose himself in your body. A muffled groan rattled through his chest, if you were sitting upright you’d be sitting on his face. He pushed his tongue past your sugar coated folds and curled upwards. Your back arched off the bed and you whimpered out, you were close again, this time closer than ever before.

“Z-Zhongli I-“ You began with labored breathing, you paused upon seeing Zhongli’s eyes peering up at you from below. They glowed ominously, his eyes ensnared you the moment you looked into them; they made your body heat up and tingle. You bit down on your bottom lip as Zhongli’s hands slid along the length of your thighs. His eyes closed patiently upon him doing so, you exhaled and melted into the plush mattress beneath you. Your moan made him twitch, the way you tried to squeeze your legs together at the height of your release but to no avail inevitably made him pull back. You were finally ready for him.

“My darling.” Zhongli pulled you against his chest once again. His stiff member imprinted on the bronze towel he wore whilst it continued slipping further and further down his hips. “How shall I take you tonight?” Your cheeks and body burned as he nestled his face in the crook of your neck and his hands moved up to squeeze your sides as he awaited your answer. He toyed with your body as you caught your breath. His eyes opened to see the window that sat adjacent to the right side of the bed. He trailed kisses up to your ear and whispered low. “My love, shall I put you on display for all of Liyue Harbor to see?” You didn’t answer him in time so, he took it upon himself to figure it out. You could feel this teeth tugging at the lobe to your ear, it made you shiver. Your eyes drifted to the left to half see his face before they drifted over to the window. They instantly widened as he slipped his arm around your waist only to push you up against the window where the side of the bed sat up against. Your chest and nipples pressed against the cold glass and your gasped out. Your body was hot, the sudden chill of the window made you ache with a newfound need for pleasure and release.

“Zhongli- people will see! I-I...” Your eyes fluttered and your lips parted into a moan, the head of his thick member prodded your entrance the moment you began speaking. Teasing you with the feeling of being full. Your hips bucked against the window and his member and he chuckled.

“A fitting punishment then.” You didn’t protest, not that you could as he slipped himself inside; past your slick folds and into the deepest depths of your aching core. He stretched you out in a way that sent fire coursing through your veins and directly to your heat. Your moan was loud, it echoed through the room and rang through his ears. With his arm wrapped around your waist he pulled back to let it rest on the curve of your hip. He smiled happily as he kissed the back of your neck. “Good, you take me well.” He said, as he got comfortable, pushing his hips forward. In doing that, it only made your body press further up against the glass and your insides contract against him.

“Z-Zhongli..” You whimpered out, your cheek smushed on the glass as you watched people walk by. It may have been a bit late in the evening but Liyue Harbor was still bustling even past sundown. Zhongli squeezed your hips and leaned forward to look over your shoulder, only his eyes could be seen in your peripheral. He kissed your shoulder gently and remained still. Despite the way your ass rocked back against him, you knew he wasn’t going to move without your asking. “P-please, please don’t tease me anymore.. I can’t take it.” Your pleas were cute but he was still unmoving.

“I told you earlier you do not deserve it. I may have forgiven you but, that doesn’t mean I’m not upset. Now, if you want pleasure seek it out yourself.” The last sentence made your cheeks warm up again, and a strained groan move past your lips. You thought he’d be the one wrapped around your finger tonight. Yet here you were on a showcase for Liyue Harbor to see, your arms and legs comfortably bound to one another as you sat on his hard cock. Feeling him throb inside of you as you tightened around him. All of these sensations were overwhelming but still you ached for a climax and did not care who witnessed.

You squirmed on him as you began rocking your hips faster, he held you in place as you tried your best to get off on just a full feeling alone. Trying to stimulate your inner spots the best you could in your position. Zhongli watched your body work and you slip into a pool of pleasure and lust as you rode his member; using the window to support yourself as well as leaning into his strong hands. Your moans were exquisite and your closed eye expression made his eyes grow a bit wide. You were so beautiful, he may have been having fun ordering you around but he wanted your face twisted in pleasure as he fucked you raw against that window. Before he proceeded to give in to his urges you started to shudder and a soft moan moved past your lips. You were coming undone in a low voltage release. Still pleasurable but not enough to satiate you. Zhongli let out a light and silent half pleased groan and pressed his head onto your shoulder. Your whimpers and pants were enough for him to give in.

With Zhongli’s other hand — the one that wasn’t resting on your hip, snaked it’s way up your neck and to your lips, his fingers slipping back into your mouth. Finally, he pulled back his hips so just the tip poked at your entrance. It left you feeling empty, you whined in need and before you could beg him he slammed himself back inside with a deep groan stemming from his chest. You moaned out and pressed your forehead against the glass. You knew someone was watching from down below. The excitement of being seen skyrocketed your pleasure and you came down onto him in a slight bounce as soon as he thrusted up. His fingers moved from your mouth and to your hair, running through your locks from the back of your head to the side as he tilted your head back so his lips pressed against your ear.

“I adore the way your body submits to mine, I will treasure it for this night and all to come.” A deep chuckle echoed in your ear, “As will those men and women down there.” He pulled back and let go, both of his hands holding onto your waist now for a steady hold. Your eyes drifted along the streets of Liyue Harbor to see what he was talking about. In the corner by the docks, a group of men caught wind of the show and a short ways away from them by several food stands was a group of women and a few more men who did as well. Your eyes closed as your body jerked upwards against the glass. The rhythm he had accustomed to was that of power and pure skill. He angled you in a way he found your body reacted well to his thrusts. Your vision had become hazy and you slipped away into lust. Being rutted into the way that he did and at the pace and force of what you expect only someone who was once godly would be able to do — albeit in your mind he was still a god. Your body began to heat up again, just like a furnace that was to blow.

“D-Damn it, I’m gonna— I’ll cu-“ Zhongli slowed before you could cum. Which caused your body to relax and tense at the same time. The disappointed whine that left your lips was short lived. He pulled you away from the window only to lay you flat onto the bed and onto your back. He looked down at your body and then to your flushed face.

“I believe I’ve let you climax a few times without my observation gaze upon your face. This last one will be something that I see in full.” He pulled you down onto his thick shaft, bottoming out completely. If that wasn’t enough to make your body burn again he picked up his pace this time with deep and elongated strokes that simply drove you up the fucking wall. The build up was a bit slow in attempts to drag out your orgasm and tire you out. It was working, you wasn’t sure when it began but it did. Zhongli groaned as you constricted around him tighter than ever before. The continuous intense contractions were blinding and your breathless moans filled the entire atmosphere of the room. In the midst of your orgasm you felt a deep warmth pool into and fill the depths of your core. He groaned in your ear knowing how much you loved to hear his voice. Be it deep and melodic that it was his groans and moans were like none other you’ve heard before and it heightened every aspect of the experience climaxing together. He pressed his forehead against yours, the tip of his nose poking at yours. He looked into your eyes and you pouted at him, your ven as he reached down to tug on the rope around your legs and thighs. It loosened with a few pulls before your legs were free. He moved off of you, laying back on the bed at your straddled home freely. With one more pull the ropes around your arms were undone and you were free to move again.

“Are you still upset with me?” You asked curiously, Zhongli’s gaze pulled away from between your thighs the sight of his seed gliding down your inner thighs was a bit distracting and arousing. He met your eyes though, and a light smile spread across his lips.

“Should I be? Did you not learn anything tonight? If you take anything away from this. It is that I love you and will make it known to others if the need arise.” Your eyes rolled a bit, you made a mental note not to show your face around that part of Liyue Harbor for a while. Your arms folded over your chest and you glared down at him playfully.

“I did, I’ll be more careful next time.” He knew he couldn’t stop your form adventuring, as long as you remained aware of how much your life meant to him he would have peace of mind. He reached up to cup your cheek with his hand, you leaned into his palm and laid on top of him with closed eyes. “I love you Zhongli, I...won’t scare you like that again.” You mumbled into his neck, drifting off into a well deserved sleep. Zhongli laid with you in his arms as he pondered about many things, you being the subject of every one of them.

Bonus

A day or so went by, you were on a nightly stroll with Zhongli on your arm. Seeing as you were dragging him around all of Liyue for food, you found yourself under the docks and strolling past Bolai! You turned your head to look out at the water, Zhongli looked down at you with an amused smile.

“My dear is there something out on the water?” He teased lightly, you pouted your lips and turned your head again.

“Shh!” You hushed him trying to walk by without being seen. If only it had worked, Bolai closed a deal with another customer before he caught sight of you two. He waved you over with a welcoming smile. Given you couldn’t control Zhongli’s stride you were dragged over.

“Ah, Mr.Zhongli from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, I didn’t get a chance to get a review from you since our last transaction. I hope that all was well with your order...” Bolai trailed off when he noticed you glaring at him from halfway behind Zhongli. The said Archon smiled and nodded.

“It served its purpose quite well and will continue to do for some time. I thank you for taking the request on such short notice. I will be sure to have something issued with more leeway if the need ever arise.” Zhongli and Bolai talked business like it was something casual that he wanted arranged. Bolai waved passively and smiled at him.

“No no, it was no trouble at all. In fact I will have something ready for you within the next day if you ask. We have a wide array of colors for your choosing.” You perked up at the sound of that, Zhongli looked down at you and arched a brow. Your cheeks puffed out and you looked away from him and Bolai in silence trying to act like it didn’t interest you in the slightest. He chuckled and turned to look over him.

“I will be sure to discuss it with my partner, thanks again.” With a nod of his head Zhongli took his leave with you trailing behind him. You looked at Bolai with narrowed eyes before waking off completely.

“I knew you were a shady bastard.” Bolai chuckled as customers came up to him he placed his hands together and greeted them like you weren’t standing there.

“I’ve no idea what you mean now scram — Ah! Welcome, is there anything I can do for you this fine evening!” You were pulled away by Zhongli before you could ruin his business transactions, he wore a smile on his face as he walked up the incline with you to the streets of Liyue harbor. 

“I must say, you looked intrigued by the assortment of colors. Do tell if you have any in mind, though you’d look breathtaking in anything.” He smiled your way and your cheeks burned with a mild embarrassment. It would seem Shibari would be incorporated in your sex lives often and in a plethora of colors at that. You couldn’t wait to see what the future of love, lust and pleasure held with Zhongli at your side.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

not allowed iv, m | jjk, myg

pairing(s): est. poly relationship – jungkook x reader x yoongi

summary: Your boyfriends woke up and chose violence. Excuse me, Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi? Do you really think you can post one after another on Twitter, send the world into heart palpitations, and not expect your girlfriend to do something about it? Hmm?!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of the pandemic; reader and Yoongi have giant heart eyes whenever they see each other; feels and fluff; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, nipple play, f and m-receiving oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, m-masturbation, double penetration/spit roasting); idol!BTS

that’s right JK posted his blue hair and i absolutely lost it part of ‘not allowed’ series, but can be read alone. basic summary: your boyfriend asked JJK to fuck you, then again, and then they decided to make this a thing; based on real time.

--

Your boyfriends woke up today and chose violence.

Everything was fine. You were on your lunch break, sitting in your kitchen, knowing you would have to get back to work soon. A quick meal and scrub of the dishes left you with you a few minutes to check your phone. You didn’t get many messages throughout the day and you preferred it that way. You took a moment to scroll through social media.

Only to choke a little seeing Jeon Jungkook, the Golden Maknae of BTS, reveal his dark blue locks to the world in the middle of the damn day. Did you almost drop your phone? Yes. Did you not because it was the special edition BTS S20+? Also, yes. The TinyTan SUGA phone case would have protected it anyway, but… still.

You placed your phone aside and went back to your computer, ready to attend work again.

Not quite composed, but it was just a picture, just a picture, just a picture…

Except you knew what Jungkook looked like naked and that wasn’t helping.

Three hours later, you snuck a glance at your phone only to be attacked by the cutest human being in the world, Min Yoongi, SUGA of BTS, sometimes Agust D, all the time lil meow meow because, holy shit, why the fuck was this man so cute? Those damn cheeks. Those eyes. Fuck, you loved his eye shape. And his pretty lips. Damnnit, why couldn’t you kiss him right now?

They’re trying to kill you and ARMY all at once. 

You’re convinced.

You rubbed your temples and took a deep breath.

It is only a coincidence. It doesn’t involve you. They’re only being their usual adorable, attractive selves and giving a gift to the fans. You weren’t delusional. It was their job to do things like this. You knew this and you were used to it. You’ve seen Yoongi say all kinds of things in V-LIVEs and you always thought it was funny. Lately, he hadn’t been responding to them much though. As for Jungkook, well.

Everyone in the world wanted Jungkook, including you, so could you blame the world? No.

Jungkook tried to tell you before that he was shy and you recalled all those see-through shirts he’d worn on stage. All those ab reveals. Hmm, you weren’t fooled.

“I wanted to make sure you were looking at me, noona,” Jungkook had teased you, hooking his arms around your waist. “I had to get your attention somehow.”

Yeah, yeah, your attention and millions of other people.

It made you laugh, until he became your boyfriend, and now it made you choke on air like every other human being who saw him looking that good. Before you had the safety of giving your full attention to Yoongi. Yoongi had always been your priority and you wanted to make sure he felt that way.

Little by little.

Jungkook grew up.

And became harder and harder to ignore.

Even more difficult when Yoongi gave him the apartment key and told him to fuck you in his stead.

You heard your phone ping. You checked your messages, saving your work in the process.

That will teach you to post such sexy pictures.

You twitched. Excuse me? What was Jungkook talking about? Your personal, private Instagram was for expressing your – sometimes eccentric – fashion sense. Was he referring to the images you posted for Valentine’s Day, the ones with the white vinyl coat, red stockings, and sky-high red heels? Hmph. You couldn’t even see your face in those. Actually, you deliberately cut off most of your face in all of your pictures. The most you showed were your lips, always painted to match your outfit. You didn’t want anyone to recognize you, even by happenstance.

Made taking pictures much easier, since you never had to do eye makeup or worry about accidentally making ugly faces.

It was private now, but it wasn’t before, and the only reason you privated it was because you started dating Yoongi. You still wanted it use it as an outlet though, so you left it as is, with your follower count unchanging. It wasn’t that many people to begin with and you were pretty sure a lot of the accounts were bots.

In any case, sometimes you felt like being creative and dressing up, thus you did so on Instagram. You couldn’t dress like that when you went to visit Yoongi. Ah, and now Jungkook too. To be honest, you loved fashion and trying on different looks, but it wasn’t possible unless you were alone. And you were alone a lot, with no one but strangers to appreciate (or be confused by) it.

Might as well take a picture, right?

And if you could tease Yoongi a little, at least from a distance, that was even better.

You forgot Jungkook also followed you now though. 

Dammit. 

Had the photos been sexy? Sure. Provocative, lots of leg, almost a peek of ass but not quite. Red lips to stand out against the white. If the coat was black, it would have been more traditionally fetishist, but that's why you had picked shiny white vinyl. Brighter for the cute holiday. 

Who are you kidding? You wore it to provoke Yoongi.

He texted you after you posted it. Usually, he said things along the lines of, pretty, cute, you look crazy, I like it. Only sometimes did he say...

what the fuck

You had asked him if he liked your post today. 

I'm not trying to pop a boner in the middle of practice, control yourself woman.

Maybe don't post such cute selfies then, you had thought. Then your phone pinged again. 

Send a picture with the coat open. Jungkook wants to see. 

Oh, so now that the maknae was involved, he was going to pin things on the younger one. Two can play at this game. You sent the photo to Jungkook first. You knew that if the situation was reversed, Yoongi would have done the same. Jungkook's reaction had been hilarious.

Noona?! WHAT???

And then a slew of head exploding emojis.

Yoongi had been agitated until you finally sent him the picture too. It had been a fun incident.

Until your boyfriends woke up today and chose violence.

Dammit. 

You stared at blue-haired Jungkook and 'Blue and Grey' Yoongi from the MTV Unplugged performance. 

This just wasn’t allowed. 

-

This visit had a purpose, but then you saw Min Yoongi standing in the hallway waiting for you, wearing an olive-green shirt, hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants, small smile on his lips. Purring your name lovingly after you closed the door, and you realized you missed him so very much, his lovely dark brown eyes and dark hair, and then you were suddenly in his arms and he was hugging you. 

With both arms. 

Yoongi was recovering well and he still couldn't do strenuous activity yet, but he was hugging you with both arms and you wanted to cry because it was so nice to have them both around you. You could've been cool and collected, yet somehow both you and Yoongi had the same idea to first hug and breathe in each other, his fresh, woodsy scent strongly invading your nose and his soft cheek against yours.

"You smell different."

"Do you like it?" you mumbled into his neck, kissing it lightly. 

"Mhm."

You thought it had worn off by now, but the new perfume you had purchased lingered far longer than you imagined, clinging to your hair. Warm spiced sweetness with a hint of sharp smoke. Yoongi inhaled deeply beside you.

"You should wear more perfume," he murmured, hands kneading your waist.

"Someone might notice."

"Nah, your taste similar enough to mine."

He was taking off your coat and you were stepping out of your shoes, being pulled deeper into the apartment, and now his kisses were yours, soft and light, every one saying, I missed you, I want you, I love you. There no need for words when it was Min Yoongi. Fingers tapping down your waist, pulling your oversized black shirt up and over your head. 

"Excuse me?"

You pooped your head out to see Yoongi staring at your chest, jaw dropped and eyes wide. Oh, right. You had been so occupied with hugs and kisses that you almost forgot. Your shirt fluttered to the floor, forgotten.

You smirked. 

"Surprise."

Yoongi made a face at you. Somewhere between angry, aroused, and shock. Good. Serves you right for posting such a cute selfie.

The front door opened. 

Both of you instantly moved, you sliding behind him and into the bedroom, Yoongi standing in front of you, masking your frame. The discarded shirt and jacket could be explained away – that's why you wore oversized men's clothes, usually in Yoongi's preferred color palette.

"Hyung?"

Oh, whew. Actually, wait. No, this was danger. 

"Ah, Jungkookie."

Yoongi placed his hand on your arm and you popped your head over the corner once you heard the door close. Yup. A swift shake of dark blue locks, white sweatshirt and loose black sweatpants, and that mischievous smirk with a wrinkle of his nose. 

Danger.

"Hey, noona!"

Damnnit, planning for two is hard! You couldn't just go put your shirt on and do the grand reveal again. Yoongi grasped your upper arm with his right hand and yanked you from the doorframe. You squeaked, body stumbling into Jungkook’s view.

"Did you plan this?" Yoongi asked with a cocked brow. 

Jungkook's eyes went wide. 

"Uh... no, but I like where this is going," Jungkook replied, smirk growing. 

The black lace bra stood out against your skin, strappy and elegant, molding to the swells of your breasts and the curve downward to your waist, matching the garter belt that disappeared into the black jeans you were wearing. You didn't usually wear lingerie. It wasn't practical and if you accidentally left something behind... it wasn't worth the risk. Yoongi and you took every precaution to not fuck this up. 

Therefore, you only wore lingerie on your private Instagram. 

Only showing little flashes, never the whole picture. And, really, you wore it in your photos to mess with them. It made you feel nice too, so it was a win-win. This set was familiar to Yoongi and Jungkook because you had worn the red version in the original Valentine’s Day themed photos. 

Again, you didn't usually wear lingerie, but Jungkook and Yoongi couldn't just post pictures on Twitter back-to-back, two-shot you, and not expect a damn reaction. That kind of shit wasn't tolerated! On top of all that, you had to wait and get properly tested before getting here. This pandemic extended your frustrations. So, yes, fuck it, you wore the damn lingerie that made you feel the sexiest. Even if your jeans were still on, you knew you looked good. 

No one had to tell you. You checked in the mirror before you left. 

"Is this your response to my text a couple days ago?" Jungkook teased, kicking off his shoes and bounding over to you two. His dark blue hair shimmered in the light, like a night sky covered with stars, smile pure and naughty at the same time, lighting up his whole face. 

Fuck you for being hot, Jeon Jungkook!

You leaned back against Yoongi, crossing your arms under your breasts, pressing them together. Jungkook grinned, the mole underneath his lower lip winking at you. 

"Something like that," you coolly replied. Shit, there was an edge to your voice. Hopefully neither Yoongi or Jungkook picked that up.

"Hmm..." 

Jungkook pursed his lips, the tip of his pink tongue sticking out the side. Ack. You had to look away. You turned and bumped your lace-covered tits against Yoongi's chest. His dark brown orbs flickered to your breasts, sly smile on his lips. 

"This is your fault too, by the way."

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, amused. "What do you mean?"

You dropped your hands, surveying him suspiciously. "You think I don't know? Posting right after Jungkook? That's not allowed! You know what that does to me."

Yoongi leaned forward. Your breath caught in your throat, heart beating fast all of a sudden. You backed up, right into Jungkook's chest. Uh oh. Yoongi hummed, black hair shadowing his face, devious sparkle in those dangerous eyes, his voice a raspy, purring drawl. 

"What does it do to you?"

Your hand fell back to brace yourself and Jungkook's fingers wrapped around your wrist, stroking your skin. You felt him shift behind you and then his lips were on your ear, whispering in his silvery voice. 

"Yeah, noona. Tell us.” His grip on your wrist tightened, squeezing lightly, asserting his presence behind you. “Or you can show us."

...

!!!

How dare they tag team you? First, they visually attack you – and millions of other ARMY – in the middle of the workday, and now this, Yoongi closing in, kissing you once more, deeper, hungrier, with dark intent, smirking against your lips as Jungkook took both your hands, ghosting his long fingers over yours. You whimpered into Yoongi's mouth, body tensing, Jungkook pressing himself into your back, breath against your hair. 

"You smell different," he murmured.

You couldn't reply. Yoongi was sucking on your tongue, making you whine. 

"Warm, sweet, and spicy."

Yoongi released you and you gasped for air, bucking into Jungkook's crotch. "I bought it last week... thought it smelled nice..."

Jungkook nuzzled your hair. "I like it. Makes me horny."

You laughed a little, turning your hands around in his to lace your fingers together. He held your hands firmly, grinding his crotch into your ass. You could already feel his arousal through your jeans.

"Sounds dangerous," you mused. 

"It is," Yoongi chuckled. "But you should keep wearing it anyway. You smell good."

Heat rose to your cheeks. Then you realized your jeans were already undone, being daintily pushed down by deft hands and an amused expression, Yoongi crouching to pull them along. Bit by bit, revealing the matching garter belt, the high-cut black lace panties that framed your thighs, and lace-topped sheer stockings, all the straps emphasizing your softness, sinking into your thighs and ass.

"Fuck..." Yoongi breathed, running his fingertips over the delicate fabric, touch so light against your skin, dancing up your knee. "You're so fucking beautiful."

He looked up at you, eyes so dark they seemed black, playful smirk on those perfect pink lips. Thump. You felt Jungkook pull your arms back and press them to his sides. You grabbed fistfuls of Jungkook’s shirt, staring down at Yoongi advancing between your legs, his smirk growing wider and more teasing, lovely voice low and husky, deep with arousal.

"What's the matter?" Yoongi purred. "Cat got your tongue?"

Your body tensed in anticipation, Jungkook's hands crawling around your sides, one tattooed, one not, fingers hovering over your now trembling chest. Looking down at Yoongi's smug expression, tongue flicking out and teasing you. Reminding you how good he was and how long you'd been waiting. 

Fuck you for being hot, Min Yoongi!

"Don't overexert yourself..." you breathed.

A sculpted brow lifted. 

"I have help now," he reminded you and Jungkook's hands sank into your barely-covered breasts. 

"Fuck..." Jungkook hissed into your ear, running his palms over your nipples, listening to your gasps as Yoongi dived between your thighs, hot tongue sliding against the lace. "Missed these tits so fucking much." His lips on your ear, growling your name, that dominant edge to his silvery voice, tweaking the hardened nubs while Yoongi teased your clothed clit with his tongue, the lace hardly a barrier but still an effective one, the rough threads plucking against your sensitive nerves.

How long had it been? So long, almost forever since Yoongi’s tongue was on you, soft and fast and the perfect pressure, deliberately teasing you and not moving the fabric aside, so close yet so far. If it wasn’t Yoongi, maybe you could tell him to move it, maybe you could beg, but you couldn’t speak because of Yoongi’s tongue and Jungkook’s rough touch, his hands on your breasts, pushing them together, your nipples poking tiny tents in the black lace, running his fingertips over them over and over, his hips grinding into your ass. Yoongi cupped one of your ass cheeks and spread them, your panties bunching in the center, Jungkook’s hardness slipping in, still covered by his sweatpants.

Wetter, hotter, sanity slipping little by little.

“Y-Yoongi… J-Jungkook…”

You tried not to shove your hips in Yoongi’s face, not wanting to strain his neck, and ended up pushing back instead, bouncing against Jungkook’s cock. The younger man snickered, nipping at your ear, pinching your nipples, and you felt a slick squelch as Yoongi’s tongue pushed the lace into your dripping pussy. The moans dragged out of your throat, eyelids fluttering, letting them do whatever they wanted, pleasure flooding all your senses, watching Yoongi wreck you, clutching Jungkook’s sweatshirt, panting their names, leaking more and more, the scent of your juices getting stronger and sweeter.

“This isn’t fair…” you panted. “I’m going c-crazy…”

Yoongi hummed on your clit and you cried out, hips rocking, so good, head tipping onto Jungkook’s broad shoulder, his long blue hair brushing against your cheek and eyelashes.

“Good, because you make us crazy,” Jungkook muttered, pushing your breasts together and squeezing them roughly. His voice was so deep you could feel your back vibrate with his words. His other hand came up and gripped your chin, trailing down and fitting around your neck, the loose sleeve falling and revealing his forearm tattoos, contrasting your lace-covered skin. “Always looking so fucking pretty and making me want to fuck you…”

His index finger came up and pressed against your lower lip. Those chocolatey eyes were watching your face from his peripheral vision, smirking as he witnessed your expression.

“Even showing off these sexy, fuckable lips. That’s not fair either, noona.”

“T-That’s not…”

Jungkook’s hand at your throat dropped and you yelped, his large palm fitting around your right thigh and lifting it up, fingers sinking in. Stockings, lace, garter, Jungkook’s touch, holding your leg up and out, giving Yoongi a perfect view of your glistening core. Then there was more, too much more, Yoongi pushing aside your panties, soaked fabric snapping against the inside of your thigh and then his mouth was directly on you, oh, fuck, his tongue on your throbbing clit, lips wrapped around it, pure suffocating ecstasy, your slick juices dripping down his chin, so easy, it was just too easy for Yoongi to make you feel so fucking good and he looked so sexy doing it too, those cat-like eyes piercing into you, ordering you to cum for him, to spill all over his beautiful face.

“Yoongi… fuck, your tongue is so fucking good–”

Your body rippled with pleasure and you flung your head to the side, away from Jungkook’s ear to moan far too loud, filling up the entire hallway, wanton and lewd, absolutely pornographic and sinful in nature, orgasm gushing into Yoongi’s waiting mouth, shuddering against Jungkook’s hard body. So many sensations, too many sensations. Yoongi sank his nails into your ass, growling as he sucked out your cum and drank it, Jungkook grinding his stiff length in between your ass cheeks, spreading your leg so far that your left one was quivering with strain, tits squashed in Jungkook’s left hand, his warm tongue on your ear, whispering darkly. Dirty, sensual, and your pussy couldn’t stop throbbing, Min Yoongi’s mouth and Jeon Jungkook’s low octave driving you insane.

“You look so fucking good, noona. Your body is so fucking perfect, so sexy wrapped up in lace,” he exhaled, sliding his palm over your nipples roughly, earning more depraved moans. He lowered your leg, slowly, Yoongi lapping at your clit, sending shocks of pleasure up your torso as he cleaned you off. Jungkook’s hand slid down over your stomach, flicking the straps against your skin, small snaps of pain that made you gasp, trapped in Jungkook’s power, letting him take over you. He took a step back, forcing you to arch your spine and look up at him, a curtain of cobalt surrounding that handsome face and those intense brown eyes.

No one could make you feel the way Yoongi made you feel. No one.

So...

Why did staring up at Jungkook like this do things to you? Why did it put your heart on a string and tension in your throat? Get it together. You weren't a teenager. Ask for what you want. He was just so insanely attractive in every way.

Jungkook smirked and you wanted him to ruin you. 

He lifted you up easily. You saw Yoongi standing up and wiping his chin, self-satisfied and amused. He tilted his head and plucked one of the straps on your stomach, a light, erotic sting. Yoongi made eye contact with you, locking you in his gaze. A single look, and your heart was fluttering, immediately smitten. One by one, fingers wrapping around a few of the straps and pulling you to him, backing up, leading you to the bed by own your lingerie. 

"Why today?" Yoongi drawled, tracing the curve of the bra cup, sending shivers over your skin. "Feeling risky?"

You raised a brow, focusing on him, trapped in those cat-like eyes. 

"Control yourself. Aren't you used to this body by now?"

Yoongi grinned devilishly, darting closer, leaving you breathless in his speed. The scent of his cologne and your orgasm lingered on his skin, a delicious combination. 

"Never."

Kissing you, taking your startled inhale, and you could taste yourself, fuck, just something about his skilled lips and your taste had your fingers twisting into Yoongi's shirt, rolling your body into his, still being so careful, but it was so hard because he was making it so hard, teasing you with that deft tongue, bursts of pleasure with every heartbeat you had while captured in Yoongi's lips. You missed it, this intensity, the overwhelming feeling that Yoongi gave you, being able to give in to the want, but you still couldn't give in without abandon, but you were so close. 

So close. 

Ruin me. 

He pushed you lightly and you felt another pair of arms wrap around you, the kiss suddenly broken, but the second touch was familiar now, one tattooed arm, one not, and you knew that if you fell, these arms could catch you.

Jungkook put you in his lap, your back touching his bare chest. Oh, shit. Before you could think much about it, he turned you so you were laying in his arms princess-style. He must have removed his sweatshirt while you were talking to Yoongi, but he still wearing his pants, now sitting in the side of the bed, blue hair messy from your hands and the removal of his clothes. Your arms hooked around his neck instinctively, not wanting to fall, but he had his right hand splayed across your shoulder blades, holding you up securely. 

"Mmm, this is nice," Jungkook murmured, playfully smiling. He nuzzled your nose, tongue flicking over your lips. "Why did you make us wait so long, hm?"

You frowned, breath against his chin. "The number of cases got higher... and you all were so busy... I couldn't get tested until recently."

Jungkook made a disgruntled noise. 

"Hey, public health and safety is important."

He pouted at you. "But..."

"He's horny and wants to fuck," Yoongi cut in.

"Hyung…!"

Yoongi pulled up his chair and sat down, looking amused. 

"He's been jacking off to your pictures."

"N-no, I haven't!"

"Really? I have."

Yoongi's face was completely neutral. It was hard to tell if he was lying or not. 

Jungkook tried to hide his flushed face with your hair. "... M-Maybe I h-have..."

"Tsk, tsk, naughty Jungkookie," you teased.

"Noona..."

"And you?"

You felt Yoongi grasp your chin, tipping you back in Jungkook's arms. Some of your hair fell over your eyes, hazing your vision of Yoongi. Even so, his intent was obvious. You could feel it in his gaze, the burning hunger, his fingertips caressing your chin, leaning forward slightly to observe you. 

I want to ruin you. 

Yoongi didn't have to say it. You knew it, pierced by the predatory glint in his eyes. You could tell he missed this, could tell that he wanted to give in to his desires, wanted to lose control, only limited by his own physical body.

However. 

He pressed his thumb into your lower lip, lifting a brow. 

Jungkook was here now.

Yoongi gave you his trademark open-mouthed smirk. 

"Ruin me," you whispered, staring into those cat-like dark brown eyes. The recognition was instant, pleased that you knew what he wanted. You shifted your attention to the maknae, his chocolate eyes wide, watching your tongue slide out and licking Yoongi's thumb. "Ruin me, Jungkook."

You loved the way Jungkook could turn from blushing anxiousness to sly confidence, and all it took was your words and the way you said them, enabling him in the best way possible. The dark blue hair helped accented the shift in demeanor, creating cool-toned shadows over his lightly tanned skin. 

"Anything for you," Jungkook purred.

You gasped sharply as you felt two fingers slide into you, Jungkook’s thumb rubbing your overstimulated clit. Your body jerked, trying to get away, but Yoongi's hand on your chin slid down, pressing on your chest, holding you still, your name a dangerous rasp from Yoongi's lips.

"Stay still."

Your eyes flickered down. Right hand. Okay. You shouldn’t be worried anymore, but you were. It was habit.

"Yoon–ah!"

You gasped, left arm firmly behind Jungkook's shoulders and the other behind you, your hand on the bed to steady your balance as Yoongi shoved the bra cups down, exposing your breasts. He lowered his head, the contact of his lips on your hot skin paired with Jungkook's thrust of his fingers into your pussy. Instant waves of pleasure overtook you, fingers sinking into the sheets and Jungkook’s hair, fuck, his beautiful navy hair standing out against your skin and, for some reason, seeing that made you feel prettier, thrusting your chest in Yoongi’s face to get more into his mouth, spreading your legs wide to give Jungkook more access.

Only a brief moment of, I should know better, I shouldn’t be doing this, and then Yoongi’s eyes were on you, tongue flicking your red nipple.

Let go.

Was this even fair to them? Could you satisfy both? Could you and should you? But Yoongi’s eyes were telling you to let go, to chase the feeling, to give in, and hunt the desperation and the want. They wanted you. There was nothing like this and there will never be anything like this again.

“Give it to me,” Yoongi growled.

You whined sharply as you felt two more fingers push into you, but not Jungkook’s fingers, Yoongi’s fingers, his thumb joining Jungkook’s on your clit and your eyes rolled back, so wet and aroused from knowing both Jungkook’s and Yoongi’s fingers were thrusting into you, four in total, your pussy sucking them in, back arching as Yoongi sucked on your nipple. So much pleasure, rapidly ascending higher and higher, so fucking full and tight that their fingers were making sloppy smacking sounds, matching rhythm so they filled you completely together, all at once.

You couldn’t stop your hips from meeting them, fingers spreading out in Jungkook’s hair and the sheets as you came hard, gasping their names, euphoria soaring through your nerves, and still they didn’t stop even though your pussy was violently spasming, creating a messy splatter of your juices on the inside of your thighs and their hands. Instead, the pace changed, Yoongi switching sides on your chest, and then you really couldn’t think, because Jungkook was lowering his head too, and now both of your nipples were getting abused, Jungkook’s arm firmly under your upper back to hold you up, not letting you fall.

“Yoongi, Jungkook… p-please, oh fuck!”

Your other hand flew up and buried in Yoongi’s dark locks, both hands in their hair now, one blue, one black, another orgasm crashing down, moan torn from your chest. And they kept going, changing the pace again, your toes and fingers curling, every muscle tense with irresistible, consuming ecstasy that you almost felt a little numb, unable to compute anything else but your body scantily covered in lace, two mouths sucking on your nipples, four fingers stuffed into you, clit engorged and sending violent shocks throughout your system. You couldn’t even discern one orgasm from another, pussy continuously throbbing and convulsing with the continuous, chained orgasms, so wet that it was soaking the tops of your stockings, the sweet honey of your cum the predominant scent in the room.

“I… I-I can’t take a-anymore, please…”

Your legs threatened to close but Yoongi snapped his head up, snarling your name dangerously.

“One more,” he ordered. “Give us one more.”

“Your pussy feels so good,” Jungkook panted, saliva dripping down your chest. “I love it so fucking much, even when it’s around my fingers.”

You were trying to hold back, trying to control it, tensing everything, your core, your legs, your arms, and you didn’t even realize it, but you held your breath too, biting your lip and seeing Yoongi and Jungkook at the same time, both watching you, fingers punishingly squelching into your tight little hole, stretching it out unforgivingly, abused clit pulsating so hard it almost hurt, and it was exactly what you wanted, brimming, boiling pleasure that threatened you on the brink, closer, closer, closer, and the world was almost hazy with how ferociously you had constricted the coil.

“Fuck!”

You threw your head back, back abruptly arching and smacking them in the face with your tits as everything came plummeting down, resolve cracking with a wanton howl, orgasm racking through your entire frame so hard that your body lurched and flinched, Yoongi and Jungkook cradling you while you rode your high, grinding your hips into their hands and carnally moaning, liquid gushing out and dripping down your legs, your ass, down Jungkook’s sweatpants and onto the bed.

It was such an intense orgasm that you were lightheaded, hands slipping out of their hair and falling down, drained, aftershocks causing your body to shudder, even as they removed their fingers. Your clit was still throbbing, pumps of pleasure spreading through you.

It was obscene witnessing Yoongi and Jungkook cleaning their fingers off right in front of you, pink tongues sliding between the digits, licking off your viscous cum, giving you a perverse sense of satisfaction when Yoongi moaned softly and Jungkook groaned lowly, savoring your taste like a fine wine. Yoongi spied your exhausted, smug expression.

“Do you think you’re done?”

You gave him a weak smirk. “I better not be.”

“Sit in Jungkook’s lap,” Yoongi said calmly. “Face me.”

You tilted your head curiously but did as you were told, shifting your still quivering legs so your thighs were on the outside of Jungkook’s thighs, the balance a little difficult, but Yoongi took your hands and placed them around his hips. You held onto him as he lifted his shirt, pulling it over his head.

“Jungkook, rip her panties off.”

Wait, what did Min Yoongi just s–?

Two strong hands dug out the lace trapped in your ass and fastened around the thin fabric.

Riiiiiiip!

“Yoongi!”

The shirt fluffed his black hair as he removed it, dropping it onto his chair. You glared at him as Yoongi looked down at you, expression blank, dark brown orbs full of mischief.

“You knew it was going to happen. If he wasn’t going to rip it, I was.” Yoongi placed his right hand on his left shoulder. His tone dropped, mockingly rueful. “You wouldn’t want me to hurt myself, right?”

Yeah, this was why you didn’t wear lingerie.

But, also, this was why you wore it today.

You felt Jungkook tugging off the now useless pair of panties, plucking them out from under your garter belt. Oh well. You liked the red more anyway. That’s why you had bought two sets, after all.

“Remind me to take all the bits before I go,” you grumbled.

“Sure, noona.” Jungkook dangled the said lacy bits next to your head. You narrowed your eyes and mouth into slits even though he couldn’t see. “I’ll put them in my pocket.” You felt him shove them into his sweatpants.

Were you… going to remember?

Yoongi beckoned you. You shot him a warning look, still annoyed, but Yoongi pointed down to your hands on his hips.

“Isn’t there something you want?” Yoongi mused in that raspy, dark tone, the one that made your irritation fade instantly and replace it with arousal. “Take it.”

He cocked his head, shading his dark eyes with his hair, pink lips parting, the slightest hint of a smirk. Challenging you. Go on. Show me how much you want me. Your body still buzzed with the aftermath of moments before and yet you still lowered your head, sliding your hips back, sucking in a breath as your puffy pussy lips touched Jungkook’s toned chest, smearing yourself on his skin.

“Ooh, I like this,” Jungkook murmured, leaning back a little to give you space. You rocked your hips into his torso, his muscles flexing under you opening, inflamed clit brushing against his hardness. You pushed Yoongi’s pants and underwear down, dipping your head, hearing Yoongi breathe your name lustfully.

“That’s a pretty picture.”

He was only semi-hard, but he was getting harder and harder, watching you grind against Jungkook’s pecs. You knew exactly how to get him the hardest, dipping down and latching your mouth around one of his balls.

“Fuck, yes,” Yoongi gasped, his hand coming up and fitting behind your head. You sucked it into your mouth and then extended your tongue, bouncing the other with your wet muscle while sucking the first one. The first time you did this, Yoongi was literally speechless, sputtering and confused at how you could stimulate both at once and in two different ways, sucking with your lips as your tongue flicked against the other, slurping slightly to add vibration over the sensitive skin. You felt his cock swell, smacking your cheek, fully hard at the combined sensations.

“I still don’t know how you do that,” Yoongi gritted out, keeping your hair away from your face.

“Do what?” Jungkook asked behind you, one hand on your ass and squeezing it.

“She can suck one of your balls and lick the other at the same time.”

“What?!”

You yelped at the sharp sting of Jungkook’s slap to your ass.

“How come you never did that for me?” Jungkook complained, whining a little.

You tried to lift your head, but Yoongi’s hand refused to move. You make a muffled noise of distaste, but Yoongi answered for you as you switched sides.

“Have you asked?” Yoongi replied calmly, sighing in satisfaction.

“How am I supposed to know she has porn star skills?”

“Is this a discussion for right now?” you mumbled into Yoongi’s balls.

“No, because you’re supposed to be swallowing.”

“Wha–”

The second your mouth opened, Yoongi nudged his cock between your lips and you wrapped them around it, moaning as his stiff length slid down your throat, so satisfying, his taste on your tongue, so delicious that you didn’t even want to complain, you only wanted to bob your head up and down, hands on his hips. Yoongi chuckled above you, guiding your head with his right hand, left loosely by his side. You slid your lower body up and down Jungkook’s chest, your increased slickness adding more stimulation.

“Fuck, that’s so damn hot,” you heard Jungkook groan. There was a rustle of fabric and then skin on skin, his muscular arm brushing against your stocking clad thigh with every stroke.

If only you could take a picture and could see how sexy you were, blowing Yoongi with his hand behind your head, tucking the head of his cock into your throat a little deeper every time you descended, your pussy sliding up and down Jungkook’s chest, and Jungkook furiously jacking himself off while watching you suck his hyung off, feeling your slippery clit throb against his skin.

Good thing the door was locked, because of any other member walked in on this, it might have become a damn foursome.

“Close,” Yoongi panted, fingers digging into your scalp. “You want it like this?”

You hummed approvingly in your chest, increasing your pace and fucking Jungkook’s torso harder, nearing your end too, Jungkook moaning louder and pumping himself harder. So many indecent sounds, skin on skin, mouth on skin, hand on skin, moaning, crying out around Yoongi’s cock, his saliva-covered balls smacking you in the chin, you ass slapping down on Jungkook’s chest.

Hot, wet, positively sinful.

The chain reaction started with Jungkook. He came suddenly, choking on your name, shooting up your chest, warm stickiness splattering onto your skin and you squeezed your eyes shut, moaning as you came all over his chest, slippery and sweet, drenching his skin, throat muscles tightening, Yoongi whimpering your name, a rare moment of lost control as he thrust his hips into your lips, coating your throat with thick hot strings, forcing you to swallow fast, the pressure satisfying and overwhelming, gulping it all down eagerly.

You did ask to be ruined.

Just… a little more.

Your eyes were still closed, lazily licking Yoongi’s twitching length. He was panting above you, gently stroking your hair, words so soft that they were almost inaudible.

“I love you…”

You went all the way down and Yoongi groaned, your tongue flicking the top of his balls, rapid, swift laps that made his cock swell again, bending against the roof of your mouth. Yoongi chuckled, knowing exactly what you were doing.

“Still want more?”

You backed up, panting hard, Jungkook’s cum clinging to your chest and lingerie, hair a mess from Yoongi’s hand.

“Want your cock in my pussy,” you demanded hoarsely. “Want you to fuck me, Yoongi.”

He pretended to think about it. “Hmm, I don’t know…”

You got off Jungkook’s lap, snaking around the younger man’s body, crawling onto the bed, eyes on Yoongi, his intense gaze following you, enticed by your movement. On all fours, hips in the air, dropping your chest down a little, the curve of your back accentuating the roundness of your bare ass. Still in your garter belt and stockings, your bra half-off, the lowered cups pushing your breasts together invitingly. Jungkook turned his head, pink lips parting as your fingers fanned out over the sheets, one eyebrow arching gracefully.

“Jungkook in front. Yoongi behind.”

“Do… Do you want a towel or something, noona?” Jungkook asked, blinking rapidly at your assertiveness.

“I want to get fucked and I want to get fucked now, so get over here.”

“Bed’s going to be a mess,” Yoongi remarked, moving quickly, shedding his pants and going for the nightstand, taking out a condom.

“We can sleep in Jungkook’s room,” was your dry reply, yanking Jungkook’s hips towards you after he removed his sweatpants.

“Wha– ack!”

You spread his legs out in front of you, eyes roaming over his naked body, admiring it all, his legs, his abs, his pecs, covered in your drying juices, his adorable surprised face, navy curls around his chiseled cheeks, chocolate eyes round and awed at your prowess. Your hands were on his knees, breasts hanging down, breathing hard, adrenaline humming in your veins.

“You are so fucking pretty it’s unreal,” Jungkook breathed.

You grinned.

“I can’t wait for you to fuck my face.”

Jungkook grinned back at you.

You dove down, tits bouncing before becoming squashed against the bed, Jungkook’s drying cum flaking off as you wrapped your lips around one of his balls, moaning as you felt Yoongi’s hands firmly grip your hips.

“You have to help me a little,” Yoongi murmured.

“I will, hyung.”

“I mean her too,” the older man chuckled, smacking your ass playfully. Your tongue flitted out, slurping at Jungkook’s other ball from the side of your mouth as you sucked the first one, wiggling your ass at Yoongi to indicate that you heard him. Jungkook yelped, hands slamming down onto the pillows and clutching them, moaning out your name.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, holy shit…” His head hit the headboard lightly, speaking to the ceiling and maybe even the higher power himself. “H-How...? Why does it feel s-so good…?”

You felt Yoongi slide in, so easy because of all those back-to-back orgasms, and yet he still hissed at your tightness, muscles holding him firmly. You could cry with how good it felt, Yoongi finally fully inside you once again, filling you up just the way you liked, knowing how to hit your deepest spot right away, skillful and wonderful. You licked up Jungkook’s now hard length, moaning deeply as you slapped your hips back into Yoongi’s crotch. Yoongi moaned to match yours, enraptured by the feeling.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he hissed, nails digging into your ass. “Missed you so fucking much, my love.”

“I’ll do the moving, love,” you gasped back, squeezing Yoongi’s cock inside you. You reached for Jungkook’s right hand and grabbed it, planting it on your head. “Fuck my face, Jungkook. Please. Don’t hold back until you cum.”

Jungkook bit his lip, exhaling your name. “I think I love you.”

“And I definitely love you, so please give it to me.”

You closed your lips around him and sank down, looking up at him and his sweaty dark blue hair, his blown-out pupils, his outstretched tattooed arm, so fucking hot, fuck yes you loved him, him and his body and his work ethic and his sweetness and his firmness as he obeyed your command, thrusting into your mouth from below, filling your throat with the thick head.

Perfect.

You rocked your hips back to Jungkook’s rhythm, matching him, slow at first, but gradually faster, rougher, planting your hands on the bed for balance, completely focused on clenching your core and your mouth to fit the two cocks, giving them the maximum amount of pleasure that you could offer, suffocating them with tightness. It if was obscene before, it was ten times obscener now, Yoongi’s hand on your hip, barely having to move as you smacked your ass into him, Jungkook lurching you forward with his force, clenching his jaw as he chased his release, the bed screaming for help and none of you listening.

“You’re so fucking sexy, fuck, you always make me feel so good, can’t help but want you, need you, miss you so fucking much,” Jungkook gritted out, fingers curling in your hair, desperately and viscerally whimpering out your name as you tipped your head to change the angle, the sensitive head dragging against the roof of your mouth as he buried himself in your throat. “You’re so good to me, such a soft and tight mouth, fuck.”

You arched your back a little more, Yoongi hitting you deeper, hearing him suck in a tight breath at your movement.

“Tighter,” Yoongi growled. “I’m close, come on, give it to me.”

And then he smacked your ass with his open palm, making you moan around Jungkook’s thick cock, pussy clenching around Yoongi’s entire length, and then again, smack! Control slipping with every hit, falling into Jungkook’s pace, the sheer force of his hips pushing you down on Yoongi’s cock over and over, now only focused on hollowing out your cheeks and gripping Yoongi’s cock, the sudden twitching indicating that Yoongi was close, so close, holding out a little so he could watch you longer, torturing you just the way you liked, but he couldn’t hold out for long because you didn’t let him, walls pulsating around him brutally as you came, stuffed so full that you couldn’t think. Yoongi groaned your name, gripping your ass with both hands and digging his nails in your softness, cock jolting as he came in thick pumps, filling up the condom and swelling it against your walls.

It took Jungkook a little longer, but not that much longer, your mouth still locked tight and he hissed out your name, whimpering as he came down your throat, filling it with cum once again, so fast that you had to swallow hastily to breathe, and yet there was more, thick salty dribbles that made you moan, so delicious that you leaned into it, sucking Jungkook dry.

“A-ah, n-noona…”

Your body ached, flinching from oversensitivity, your mind swimming with pleasure. Had it ever felt this good before? You slid off Jungkook’s cock, falling against his thigh and using it like a pillow, chest heaving, sticky all over, lips overused, pussy throbbing, barely realizing that Yoongi had pulled out, far too spent to see straight.

“Fuck, I love you two…”

Yoongi’s face suddenly appeared, smug expression above you. He had crawled over your body, ruffled black hair hanging down, dark cat eyes gleaming.

“Romantic.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Mmm.”

He leaned down and kissed you, smiling against your lips, mouthing his love to you, forming each word against your skin slowly so you knew. You smiled back, showering him with light pecks, mouthing the words back to him. Yoongi purred and lifted himself up, taking you with him.

“I can’t move,” you complained, using your arms to push yourself up to avoid straining Yoongi’s shoulders. He chuckled, not the least bit fooled by your whines. He pushed you into Jungkook’s hard chest, covered in sweat and cum, and sandwiched you between them, your face right beside Jungkook’s, cheek to cheek. You could feel the heat in his face, his hair sticking to it.

“Noona?”

“Hm?”

Everything was far too messy for this cuddle session, but that could wait.

“Is it okay if I love you?” Jungkook mumbled, burying his nose in your hair.

“Mhm,” Yoongi responded, sounding sleepy.

You brushed Jungkook’s hair away from his face. “I would very much like that.”

“Everything is dirty,” Yoongi grumbled.

“You are a main contributor,” you said cheerfully.

Yoongi grunted, leaning against you, squashing you a little harder against Jungkook. Nothing to complain about. You were enjoying every second of this.

“Jungkookie?”

“Hm, noona?”

You reached up and ran a hand through his dark cerulean hair. Jungkook hummed appreciatively, closing his eyes at your touch.

“You know this shade is Cookie Monster blue, right?”

“… Hah?”

“Does that make you Ggukkie Monster?”

Yoongi burst out laughing, raspy and full, a rare moment of Min Yoongi absolutely losing his shit.

-

part v "Sorry, Jungkook, you're not allowed this time."

--

masterpost

[jd-loves-fiction]

➤ Jason Todd x Reader

➤ Warnings: gun kink, unprotected sex [don’t be silly, wrap the willy ;)]

➤ @catxsnow @internalsealpanic​ @littleredwing89

[22:50] Your lungs burn as you leapt from one building to another, begging you to slow down at once. 

No chance of that, not with the sound of heavy footsteps thundering behind you as a grunt is heard after the man chasing you lands. 

So you keep running, despite the tightness of your chest, the soreness of your feet and burning in your muscles. 

But somewhere deep inside, something urges you to stop. Something more abstract than the discomfort you feel.

"Come on, princess. Stop and let's talk this out!"

"No way in hell, you glorified eyesore!" You yell back, jumping yet another gap between buildings almost perfectly. 

Almost.

You misjudge the distance and are unable to stick the landing, rolling across the roof until you stop on your back. You don't move, already hearing how his footsteps become slower. He approaches your defeated form, panting as your ankle throbs slightly. You know you can't run anymore at this point, so why tire yourself out.

Red Hood steps over you, placing his boots on your spread arms, barely applying any pressure, just enough to send a message. 

You can hear his heave, distorted, and you imagine him to be sweating bullets under his helmet, while you cool off with the cold, humid air of late night Gotham.

"Did you need to do all that? I just wanted to talk." Red hood protests, exasperated and still panting as you do the same with a skeptical look. 

"Seems it was more your gun wanting to do the talking." You bite back, feeling small under his gaze, so far up from you, but refusing to show it. 

You can almost see his red helmet contort into a frown as you both know what you said isn't true. He may threaten you but he'd never actually shoot you. No matter how much he tries to hide it, he enjoys this dynamic of yours. And so do you. 

The sexual tension, usually pointed out by others around you, could be cut with a meat cleaver. And it just keeps building. Every encounter or skirmish usually leaves you with sticky underwear and him with tighter pants. You excite him, keep him on his toes, and he does the same to you. 

Not to mention the more intimate moments you've shared. 

Walking the grey line of morality meant that your friends could be your enemies and vice versa. For you two, it meant that one day you could be bandaging each other up (still with the masks on) and the next day you could be the ones creating a need for the bandages. 

And that is fine. You both think it's fine.

Until the tension brewing comes to a head spills over from the cauldron. 

Red Hood takes his feet away from your biceps, stepping just below them to take the weight off and still keep close. He then takes his shinny, polished gun from its holster, not yet having been used on that night. 

His large thighs flex as he crouches over your chest, placing the gun under your chin as you stare into the white eyes of his hood, hoping to catch a glimpse of what's behind. 

"Well, if that's the only way I'll get you to talk." His deep voice, seemingly deepened by the voice modulator, rumbles through your chest as he speaks. 

"There are other ways…" You whisper suggestively, mask slits lowering as you smirk seductively. The complete switch from your feisty defiance to a velvety tone and alluring expression makes him pause. 

"Oh? And what would those be?" The gun feels cool against your skin as he presses it harder against you.

"You could start by taking off your helmet." You say confidently. And just like that, the gun's pressure leaves you as he pulls it away slightly. 

Red Hood sighs deeply, shoulders dropping, "You know I can't do that, princess." 

"Not for me?"

"Not for you, not for anyone I'm afraid."

"Won't even let me try to change your mind?" You purr. Your hands crawl up his tense legs, feeling the muscles quiver under your fingertips before they settle on his hips. 

"I can't promise you anything." His tone turns stern, almost cold, but his breathing wavers at the feeling of your warm hands on his cold body. 

"Then don't. Just let me do my thing and see how you feel afterwards." You suggest, nails scratching just above his belt. His hand flexes for a moment, contemplating, before he traces his gun down your throat and towards your warm chest. 

"Think you can change my mind, do you?" His free hand brushes your hair away from your face before he grabs your chin between his gloved fingers. "Let's see what you got."

You slip your legs out from under him, placing them around his waist and throwing him off balance to the side, following the momentum and sitting yourself over him. 

Red Hood's helmet hits the floor as he lets his head fall back. You lay your weight on his middle before gripping both his wrists while leaning closer to his face. 

"You sound quite cocky. Not much reason to, since you're the one on the ground while I could just get up and run. You'd be left all alone to take care of your little problem." You whisper while grinding your ass against said problem.

"True, but we both know you don't really want to. And it's not so little, princess." His voice is deep and raspy as you continue your hip movements, taking his gun out of his hand. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Then you better start working, doll face."

You scoff at his tone before realizing the safety was off on the gun. "The safety was off?" You ask, shocked, as you turn it on, placing it by your side. 

"Sorry, forgot about it. Had more interesting things to think about." His hands reach for you before you grab them, pinning them beside his head.

"You forgot about it? Not very professional of you, considering your impulses." Your chest meets his as you lean heavily on his wrists. You both know your hold on them means close to nothing and that he could easily get out of it, but he'd allow it if it meant having fun.

"Not the impulses you should be focusing on, sweetheart." His legs bend, urging you forward and making his crotch grind against yours.

“Ooh, I’m so scared of a man whose face I can’t even see. Not to mention the fact that you clearly have a very soft spot for me, sweetheart.” You tease, grinding your hips down firmly, reveling in the deep grunt that makes him chest vibrate against yours.

Red Hood lets out a slow breath, body relaxing completely as he stays silent, “Yeah, you’re right.” he finally says, quietly, absentmindedly. You stare deep into the whites of his mask as he stays tight-lipped and seemingly contemplating something. 

"Can I trust you? Completely?" He asks before you hum, taking your hands away and sitting up. You ignore his boner poking your ass.

"Yes, of course you can." Your expression turns soft and serious as you speak. You hope he can hear your honesty more than see it through the mask. 

He nods before reaching for his helmet, "Wait!" You exclaim as your hands stop him. "What are you doing?!"

"Listen, princess. I want this and I trust you. So I'm acting on all this fucking tension because honestly, I can't wait anymore." And so you let him reach for the back of his helmet, clicking it open with a hiss, before he takes it off and you're baffled by the image before you.

His hair is short and black with a white streak, just as messy and sweaty as you expected. His eyes are a startling, pale green, and they watch your reaction for a moment before his cheeks darken. There's the beginning of dark stubble on his jaw and chin. Even the small scars all across his face, from his cheek to the bridge of his nose, add to his rugged handsomeness that nothing your mind has ever conjured up could compare to. 

"Don't comment too much. We can leave the soft stuff for another time. Right now, I just need to be inside you." The heated look in his striking eyes makes your breath stutter, along with his words. Before you smile cheekily while trailing your nails down his hard abs. 

"'Leave the soft stuff for another time?' That better mean you'll be taking me out on a date, or I'm not having it." You tease, winking at him as he smiles fondly. You take off your mask and place it by his helmet, ego massively boosted by the immensely flustered look on his face as yours is revealed. 

"Do comment all you like. And you can call me Y/N." You whisper into the night, lips a breath away from his. 

"Jason. Nice to meet you, finally."

His soft lips crash against yours as months of tension come to a head while teeth scrape and tongues battle for dominance. You lose it and let Jason suck on your tongue as you rush to unbuckle his pants after raising his shirt slightly.

You feel his hands grip your waist tightly, meaning to flip you under him, before you hold him back by placing your hands on his, "Let me ride you, please." 

"Ah fuck, doll face." Jason's voice wavers as you reach past his boxers to grab his hot member in your cold hand. Your hand moves up and down, feeling him harden fully in your palm as your forehead rests against his. 

Your lips suck on his pulse while your other hand brushes a long scar in the middle of his torso, that you refuse to comment on. 

"Princess, you better stop or I'm gonna cum. And I just wanna do it inside you." He grunts, tugging at your pants while holding your wrist to slow you down.

You take your pants off, thankful for the roof's tall walls and the fact that, for once, it isn't raining like hell. The stone digs into your knees as you settle over him once again. 

"You ready?" Jason asks as you move his cock through your folds. You're not sure of the answer. He looks too girthy for you to take without prep painlessly. But with the burning ache on your core begging to feel him inside, your patience is quickly running out, so you're sure going to try.

You sink down instead of answering, slipping only the head of his cock inside you, making his eyes widen and nearly roll back at the unexpected pleasure, before they close tightly as he struggles to hold his own hips down as you adjust.

"Ah! Doll…" He sighs, hips twitching as they try to raise against the weight of you. You hold yourself up on his stomach as your walls are stretched to their limit, trying not to impale yourself too quickly.

You breathe hard and deep as you move down, the base being thicker makes it harder and not painful, but it's worth it for Jason's face as you finally descend all the way until your hips meet his and he gasps before moaning loudly and deeply. His cheeks become even redder than before, looking to the side at his loud noise.

You lean towards his ear to whisper, moving him inside you slightly which makes him groan again, "Be as loud as you like, nobody can hear you. Plus, not sure anybody cares."

“Fuck, princess, please tell me I can move. I just wanna fuck this pussy so bad.” Jason says, hands holding onto your hips. You nod desperately, already half gone with the feeling of his hard cock fully inside, raising yourself with a whimper and dropping again.

“Shit, doll!” He exclaims, hands helping you move as his hips raise while you drop, his tip hitting you impossibly deep as a layer of sweat starts to form on both of your foreheads, hair sticking to the skin.

“Ah, Jason.” You whimper, grounding your clit against his pelvis at the bottom.

“You feel so good, doll. So warm and wet, fuck…” He sighs, hand grasping your hair and pulling your lips against his as you set a hard and fast pace. 

Your lips barely connect for more than a few moments, kisses interrupted by moans and whimpers as you breathe against each other's mouths. 

Your toes begin to curl as sparks of pleasure travel all over your flushed body, breathing heavy as your heart pounds against your chest. Your body jerks as Jason’s rough and calloused finger starts rubbing firm circles on your clit.

“You close, sweetheart? You gonna cum all over my cock? Clench even tighter, shit!” He sighs, followed by a groan as you do clench tighter around him at his dirty words while the pleasure builds.

“Jason, please! I’m so close.” You moan desperately, muscles twitching as you allow Jason to do the most work with his powerful thrusts and rough fingers.

Your back arches as you finally reach that peak, shivering, nails digging into his stomach as you let him thrust into your pussy until he lets out a grunt once he reaches his orgasm, warm filling you as his cum drips out of you and down your thighs.

You open your eyes, gazing up into the dark sky, catching your breath before looking down. Jason lays back, sighing as the aftershocks of his high wears off slowly, leaving him sated and tired, pent up tension finally released.

You lean forward, ignoring the way your pussy twitches as he nudges the inside, and placing a kiss to his red cheek and smiling at his hazy, faraway gaze.

“So, about that date, you free on Friday?”

[unresolved-kpop-thirst]

happy trails

pairing - yuta x reader

genre - smut, lil fluffy

contains - dom Yuta, chubby f!reader, outdoor sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it fr), D/s, fingering, some body love/praise

wordcount: 1.7k

summary: hiking in the woods and getting it on in the great outdoors like nature intended.

-

"Can we take a quick break?" You ask, doubling over to brace yourself on your thighs for a quick second. You didn't recall this hiking trail being this hard, and you were evidently not prepared for the steeper slopes in the second half.

"We're not too far from the point where it's all downhill," Yuta reassures you, retracing his steps and offering you a bottle of water. Seeing how out of breath you are, he smiles sympathetically. "But we can stop a while here."

"Thanks." You take a swig of water. It's not like it's too tough, you're just a bit out of shape from a whole ass quarantine spent mostly indoors. Yuta seems unbothered, but he had kept up dancing while the world was shut down so it's no surprise he's lost very little athletic ability in comparison.

This trail usually is a cinch for both of you, more for relaxed sightseeing than a challenging hike. You lament your lack of fitness and find a spot to sit and rest amongst the roots of trees lining the dirt path.

"Ugh, I'm in worse shape than I thought," you admit. Yuta crouches in front of you, elbows resting on his knees.

"It's not that bad," he reassures you. "A year of being a couch potato doesn't look too bad on you." He pokes your cheek and you bat at his hand.

"I know full well how you feel about it," you say, narrowing your eyes. He smiles, angelic, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Last night he had squeezed your hips, your thighs, where you've become softer in your sedentary lifestyle, and described in detail how good you felt under his hands. He had surprised you a bit with his enthusiasm for your rounder, softer body, but then you had a sneaking suspicion he would like any type of body as long as it was yours.

That said, the aforementioned enthusiasm was part of why you were struggling today; your inner thighs had taken a battering from his hips and you rode him for nearly an hour, making up for lost time. You'd had better ideas in your life than hiking after a session like that, but the way Yuta always lit up in nature swayed you to go anyway.

He rocks forward, falling onto his knees, and nudges your legs apart with his hands sliding up your bare thighs to the hem of your shorts. You glance up and down the trail. You're not well hidden, but you can't see anyone.

"Yuta~" you sing-song, patting his head. "Whatcha doing?"

"I just missed you," he says, smiling brightly. He shifts to grasp the back of your thighs where they meet you butt, a ticklish spot that makes you squirm.

"We spent all yesterday together," you remind him, "and I'm here now."

"Mmhm," he agrees, kissing your inner thigh. "So I want to touch you more."

"Maybe somewhere a little more hidden?" You suggest, making him grin as you grab his hand and you both stand up, you leading further into the trees.

It's a warm, bright day, and the long undisturbed forest shelters you from the direct sun. Still, when you find a spot well hidden from the path and turn to Yuta, the dappled light on his face is so pretty you have to kiss him.

He cups the back of your head with one hand, the other resting on your waist, and despite what you said moments ago you sigh in relief now you're getting to kiss him again. It really was too long; your body missed him just as much as your heart did. He slowly presses you back until your back hits the trunk of a broad tree, then tugs your hair gently to change the angle and deepen the kiss.

When you run the tip of your tongue along his lip he opens to you eagerly. Just kissing him excites your instincts, a pulse of heat building in your lower stomach. His fingers dig into the soft give of your hip, making you let out a soft, encouraging little sound. His tongue explores your mouth, re-mapping you, claiming ownership, eliciting faint whimpers and moans until his hand glides down your stomach and slips under your shorts.

He finds your clit, skimming over it with his fingertips before pinching it between the pads of his fingers and rolling it between them, and you can't help the needy sounds that leave you or the way you arch up against him, greedy for his hands all over you, his lips on yours. You can only whine in disappointment when he breaks the kiss to look at you.

"Cutie," he says, but it sounds like you're getting a telling off. "You can't be so noisy. What if someone hears you?"

On the contrary, that spikes another sound from you, a startled little cry while he continues playing with your clit.

"I forgot, that's not a problem for you, is it?" He goes on, tucking his tongue into his cheek for a second to suppress a smile. "You like when people watch. When they hear how well I fuck you, the pretty noises you make with me inside you."

You nod mindlessly, his continued attention and his words twisting up inside you, making you clench down around nothing, a gnawing need growing in the pit of your stomach.

"You want me inside, don't you, baby?" He asks, a hint of pity in his voice, and you give him the puppy eyes.

"Mmhm," you respond, taking his wrist gently in your hand and tugging him closer. "I want your fingers inside me, puppy, please?"

The use of your affectionate nickname for him makes him smile warmly, before he slides a finger into your slit. You roll your hips, pulling him deeper and giving an encouraging moan, and then a squeak of surprise when his other hand presses firmly over your mouth. You blink up at him.

"Be quiet," he warns. You nod dumbly. As he starts moving his finger inside you your sounds are muffled against his hand, and you cling tightly to him. He crooks his finger against your g-spot, makes you yelp and buck your hips forward, before he surges forward and presses you into the tree trunk, pinning you there and assaulting that spot inside you until your cunt tightens down around him. "Cum for me. Right now."

You can only obey, a flush of heat rolling over your skin, the tension breaking and your muscles fluttering around him as you cum with a muffled whimper.

He pulls out, manhandling you until you're pressed face-first against the tree and he unfastens your shorts and pulls them down to your knees. "You want your puppy to use you, baby? Use his favourite little toy?"

You gasp as you feel the head of his cock press at your entrance from behind, slipping in your slick, stretching you already as it pushes an inch into your needy cunt. "Y-yes- please use me, I wanna make puppy feel good..."

He drives his cock into you with a firm shove, bottoming out with his hips against yours, growling low against the back of your neck when you gasp and moan at the way he stretches your cunt mercilessly with his girth.

"Feel that?" He asks, grinding into you, and your body allows him entrance, moulding to the shape of him while you whimper from the sheer pleasure. "You made your puppy so hard. You're such a good little toy. I'm gonna breed my pretty toy now, fill you up with cum."

You push back against him and feel his arms come around you, one hand grasping your shoulder and the other on your neck. Then he draws his hips back, slamming back into you to elicit a choked groan. The full force of his thrusts borders on painful, but your pussy clenches and drips around him, serving its purpose as a tight, wet hole for him to use to get off.

"You're squeezing me so tight, baby," Yuta pants. "It feels that good? You like getting your pretty little cunt pounded like that?"

Between his hand on your neck and your barely muffled cries, there's no way you could start to respond. You nearly sob as he brings you to another mind shattering climax, upping his pace as you clamp down around him.

"God, I love feeling my little toy cum on my cock. Makes me wanna breed you." You cry out, feeling him pulse and grow harder inside you, his deep thrusts turning your mind and your legs to jelly.

"Yes, please," you choke out. "Fuck me full of your cum, I'm yours, all yours, puppy."

He growls, movements verging on feral, his nails digging your shoulder as he rails you for all you're worth. His other hand goes tight, cutting off your sounds and your air supply, and you grit your teeth, another orgasm ripping through you before he shoves deep, giving a few short and sharp thrusts and filling your insides with his seed.

You tap frantically at his wrist and he releases you, letting you heave in a few deep breaths and get yourself under control. Yuta rubs his cheek against the back of your neck, almost like he's scent marking you.

"Ugh," he groans. "You drive me crazy. You know you do, right?"

You laugh breathlessly. "I kind of gathered."

He laughs with you, his arms around you turning into an affectionate back hug as he softens inside you. You sigh, content, but aware you can't stay like this forever. Eventually, Yuta gives a brief warning before pulling out, his cum dripping out and down your inner thighs, sending a hot shiver through your body. He pulls your shorts back up, your panties getting soaked from the mess he left, making you squirm.

"Yuta," you whine, "that's gross."

He leans in, kissing your cheek and jaw. "If you prefer, next time I'll gather it up on my fingers and feed it to you." You squeak, both mortified and weirdly turned on at the image. He chuckles. "But this time my little toy gets to walk home proud to be soaked in my cum. Okay?"

Dizzy and sub-spaced, you nod obediently, and he pats your head.

"Good. We've only got about a quarter of the trail left. Let's go."

[katsukisprincess-archive]

The Backseat | Tamaki x Reader

a/n: hello! this is a reupload from my old blog, katsukisprincess. there will be a part two for this piece so that paired with a request to reupload has brought us here <3 please enjoy and let me know if you’d like to be tagged for part two!

summary: The time for your graduation vacation has finally come- a week to spend with your friends before you start your careers as Pros. When you’re about to head to the beach, you realize that you’ll be sitting right with your long time crush, Tamaki Amajiki. The catch? There’s barely room for both of you back there.

wc: 2.8k

warnings: dirty talk, slight dry humping

There was nothing that sounded worse to Tamaki than spending three hours in a cramped car, even if the end destination was his favorite beach. You had this trip planned for months before graduating; Tamaki, Mirio, Neijre, and a few other classmates were over the moon at the idea of spending the first few days of freedom on vacation. Still… there wasn’t a bigger form of transportation available? 

“We’ll have to squeeze in the back.” You motioned between the seats, which you could see partially over mountains of luggage from your spot standing next to the vehicle. Tamaki was beside you, hands buried deep in his pockets and his lips pressed into a straight line, as emotional as he is emotionless. “Mirio had to put one of the three seats down to fit the surfboards, but the two seats should be big enough.” 

Your sentence trailed off in volume as you realized how cramped it just might be. You’d rather it be with Tamaki than anyone else, you decided, and knew he felt the same. On your way back inside to get the rest of your things, you did your best to calm your racing heart and drifting thoughts. 

Three hours pressed up against the man you’ve craved for years. 

How bad could it be?

***

“I’m sorry. I know this is going to be uncomfortable, I-” 

Tamaki cut you off as he crawled onto the seat, just barely half of his bottom fitting, the other half hanging off and being shoved against the harsh board material next to him. “Stop apologizing. I’d rather be here than… up there.” 

He let out a sigh as he nodded in the direction of Mirio and Nejire, who were starting their karaoke before the car was even running. The stacked bags and coolers made it so that only the tops of their heads were visible, and you could tell that the stress of the drive was nearly falling off of him at the joy of having the barrier. 

“You guys good back there? Deku said their car is even worse than ours, can you believe that?” Mirio chirped from the driver’s seat, putting his hand on the back of the passenger headrest to get a good view at the two of you squished in the corner. 

“We’re good, Mirio, thanks!” You responded, sticking your hand up with a peace sign to let him know you were hearing him. He threw up his thumb in response, and almost immediately, the sounds of Nejire’s babbling was drowned out by the running engine. With the scent of saltwater lingering off of the beach equipment and flooding your senses, you leaned your head against the window and tried to doze off.

The first hour of the trip was just as uncomfortable as you were expecting. You could tell how hard it was for Tamaki to balance himself with how little of the seat he had, so you kept trying to shove yourself hard against the side of the car to give him more room. It was an endless cycle of you realizing how intolerable his position was and him realizing how much you were hurting yourself to try to make it better for him. 

A thought crossed his mind- no, he couldn’t. He pushed his thoughts out of his head the best he could, but anytime he saw you flinch as a bump on the road sent your harder against the plastic wall, his heart lurched even more than your presence caused to begin with. He was overwhelmed by the scent of your shampoo wafting in his direction from the cracked window, and after one particularly rough movement, he took advantage of his blurred senses. 

“Sit on my lap.” 

Your head snapped to face him. What did he just say?

It was so low, so quiet, that you could tell he was trying to be private with it. There wasn’t a chance in hell that they would hear you up front with their insane volume, but still, you played along. 

“What?” 

“I-” Tamaki stopped and sighed, gathering his words before continuing. “There isn’t enough room. If you… if you sit on my lap, we’ll both b-be comfortable?” 

Was it a question or a statement? You wanted him to look you in the eyes, but it seemed he was slowly crawling back into the shell that he had lived in for so long. He felt bold at first, but as soon as he saw your questioning gaze with your parted, wet lips, he lost every ounce of confidence. 

This was very visible to you. He was right, though- sitting on his lap would give you both the room and comfort that you had been aching for this entire drive. Even if you were comfortable, which you obviously were not, you would regret giving up the chance to sit on Tamaki fucking Amajiki’s lap for the rest of your life if you didn’t hop onto him like a horse right this second. 

Unfortunately, your actions were much more humble than your thoughts. You lifted yourself off of the seat as gently as you could with the car still in motion, giving Tamaki the opportunity to slide himself under you. When you sat back down, you lowered yourself onto one of his thighs, feeling terribly small against his frame. 

It was an awkward situation, for a moment, trying to figure out how to position yourself against him, but when Tamaki slid one arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest, it fell into place very nicely. He smelled like fresh laundry and trails of food, which you were sure he had more of somewhere close to the seat. If Tamaki was anything at all, he was hungry. 

“Is this better?” You whispered, trying to not invade his privacy too much. His heart was racing against you, and even though he was avoiding eye contact with every ounce of restraint he had, you were pleased to feel his arm grip tighter against you when the bumps on the road strayed you off of his embrace. 

“Much.” Tamaki’s voice was strained, and it took all of three seconds for you to realize that it wasn’t the only thing that was. His cock was thick against the side of your thigh, and you couldn’t tell if he wasn’t moving because he was enjoying it or whether he was paralyzed with embarrassment. 

When he still wouldn’t look at you, you began to wonder if he was waiting for you to adjust yourself the entire time. Using the back of the seat as leverage, you pushed yourself off of him, finally causing him to meet your eyes. Instead of looking grateful like you were expecting, or even embarrassed, he looked almost upset. Words weren’t forming for him, so in an attempt to bring you back to where you started, he pushed his leg up by the toe of his shoe, causing his leg to bounce and causing you to move with it. 

You didn’t have time to cover your mouth to stop the noise that broke free from your throat as his movements caused your panties to drag against your clit. 

In a normal moment, it would have been just any other shift in position. But the discovery of how long and thick Tamaki was had you riled up, as if sitting on him in the first place didn’t do the trick. You could feel a pulsing in your cunt as you sat there, mortified to have made such a raw sound in front of one of your best friends. You wondered what he would do… would he throw you off of him? You couldn’t blame him. In this moment, you wanted the planet to swallow you whole and erase any memory of-

Tamaki’s hand lightly slapping your bare thigh pulled you from your reverie. 

Opening your eyes and pulling your head up from where it was buried in your hands, you met his gaze with confusion. He patted it again, and this time your stomach nearly dropped through your ass when you knew what he wanted, which was for you to straddle his thigh. You were in a sundress, a closet staple for such a vacation, so the idea of exposing yourself so greatly was daunting, to say the least. 

Noticing you were silently debating, Tamaki raised a hand and grabbed onto your chin, directing you to look him right in the eyes. His pupils were blown, his mouth hanging open with his tongue coming out to run against his already wet lips. His face was so close to yours, so close, that you weren’t able to take your gaze off of his mouth when his hot breath was fanning against you.

“I could feel how wet you were since you sat down, don’t play n-nice now.” With his words still barely above a whisper, and his grip on your chin not as harsh as you wish it was, you could tell that he was still nervous about what was happening. While his request seemed lewd, there was a shine in his eyes and a lingering in his voice that let you know that this was something he had been thinking about for far too long. He wouldn’t have risked something so out of character in front of his friends otherwise. 

There was a need in the way he suddenly brought you forward for your first kiss, but there was a desperation in the way that he was internally begging for you to return the colossal heap of feelings that had been growing in his heart for you for too long. Things were changing with graduation passed, and he had one chance to secure you in his future. 

His lips were softer than anyone you had kissed before. It made sense, now that you thought about it, as you remembered all of the times you would peek over at him and see him gently applying chapstick. You wondered if that was the hint that you tasted on him, a soft mix of medicinal balm and the bottled tea he was sipping on throughout the ride. It was an odd combination, but when his tongue tangled with yours for the first time, you knew that it was going to be one that you never forgot. 

You shifted yourself to straddle Tamaki’s thigh as he continued to kiss you. His hands sat limp for awhile, unsure of what to do, really, but the second he felt your hot center on his skin, right under the hemline of his shorts, he let his lust direct him. The new position had him spreading his legs out, allowing his heavy cock to press above the knee you had burrowed between his own. Both of his large hands found home on your hips and began pulling and pushing you along him, starting a slow rhythm of your panties pulling against your sensitive, swollen bud once again. 

Everything was happening so fast, both in the moment and in terms of your relationship, that Tamaki found himself exhaling and leaning his head back against the seat. You began to worry when his eyes fluttered closed and forced him to stop his movements. 

“Tamaki, do you want me to stop?”

Immediately, his head was shaking. He was mumbling, something you knew he did when he was trying to sort out his thoughts. Finally, after licking his lips a few times, he found what he wanted to say. While it was only one word, it spoke the weight of a novel, telling you everything you needed to know about his feelings and giving you the reassurance that you needed to tie the loose ends together in your heart. 

“Never.” 

With more force than you had ever seen him apply to you, Tamaki grabbed your leg that was between his legs and forced it up and around his hip. One quick pull by your ass had you seated right on his dick, which felt impossibly harder than before. His eyes wandered up and over the luggage in front of you to where your friends were driving, checking to see whether they were still immersed in their road trip games. Thankfully, they were, giving him all of the motivation he needed to grab your hair in his fist and yank your head back. 

His kisses started soft on your neck, but the way he suckled down the skin where your heart was beating the loudest was anything but. His grip on your hair allowed him access to the entirety of your upper body, and by the time a few minutes had passed, you were sure that he had laid a kiss on absolutely every inch of it. 

Your hips began moving against his, grinding down and causing him to buck right back up. It began as smooth, soft movements, learning each other's bodies and motions and desires, but it was quick to turn into the roughest dry humping that you had ever seen. You laced your fingers behind his neck for leverage as he pulled your dress straps off of your shoulders, allowing him to slip it off just enough to latch onto one of your nipples. You pulled against his neck as he sucked, continuing to roll against him and swallow the moans that threatened to expose you both.

“I want to be inside of you so badly.” Tamaki whispered around your nipple, letting out the softest of groans. You were both panting at this point, hands grabbing onto whatever would help you drag along each other’s bodies more fluidly. Any makeup you had applied that morning around your mouth was gone, foundation off of your cheeks and chin as his wet kisses dominated you and left you breathless. 

Pushing him back against the seat you grabbed the button of his shorts, releasing the zipper just so that his cock was straight up against his abdomen. You lowered your cunt onto him and rolled your hips up, aligning yourself just right so that it dragged against your clit deliciously. Tamaki seemed to like it as well, and he found a bruising grip on your hips to help you move. 

“We have the next two weeks.” You whispered, setting your forearms on his shoulders and threading your digits through his hair. A good thrust had you setting your forehead against his and exhaling, feeling pent up from how hard it was to stay quiet. 

Tamaki’s eyes rolled back into his head as your pace grew faster, grinding against his cock with a desperation that he had never felt before. He was growing faster to cumming than he wanted to admit, not knowing that you would be releasing yourself any minute. He tried to speak, but his words were breathy and chaotic. “After that. All the weeks. Forever.” 

You crashed your lips onto his as you hit your peak, your hips stuttering against him and hands pulling at his hair. In your rapid movements, you brushed against the tips of his ears, and all of the stimulation across his body had him cumming into his boxers. He thrusted up hard when he came, lifting you up into the air and in dangerously close view of your friends up front. All of your sounds were, hopefully, swallowed by each other's mouths, Tamaki having sucked down on your tongue so hard that you were seeing stars. 

It took a minute to calm down, but once you were both breathing normally again, you pulled back to share a shocked expression with him. He looked blissed out, but when his eyes trailed down to your neck and your chest, his eyes widened and all of the color drained from his skin. To see what he was seeing, you pulled your phone out of the cup holder next to you and opened up the camera.

It wasn’t terrible, but there were multiple hickies trailing down your neck and across your chest. It wasn’t something that you would be able to hide from your friends, especially at a beach of all places. While Tamaki’s stomach felt like it was dropped through the bottom of the car and onto the highway, you could only giggle and kiss his cheek. 

“That’ll be an interesting one to tell over dinner.” 

[laughing-with-god]

In the alternate Victor QQ timeline, what are the Bts Victor's opinions of the other? Have they also ever met Victor Y/N in that timeline as well before the game?

Jin:

Jin doesn’t really like Namjoon.  He found his traps and schemes a bit pretentious and sometimes makes digs during mentor interviews that Namjoon didn’t really deserve to win his games.  People suspect that he’s just upset because he was the mentor of the kids from One during Namjoon’s game and was personally offended that someone outside the career alliance won, and even outsmarted them.  

Jin doesn’t have much of an opinion of Yoongi.  He is kind of impressed that Yoongi managed to win at fourteen but doesn’t fully get the hype over a victor who just hid during most of his games.  He also doesn’t understand why Yoongi keeps snapping during interviews and finds it pathetic, he always wonders why the Capitol hasn’t killed him off yet.  He knows if he had an episode like that, he’d be six feet under.  

Jin felt bad for Hoseok, but doesn’t quite forgive his stupidity.  In Jin’s opinion, Hoseok should’ve known that the girl from 10 wasn’t going to live and he shouldn’t have tried allying with her.  He should’ve saved himself the trouble. 

Jin doesn’t mind Taehying.  He often forget he exists and sometimes does a double take when all the mentors get together like “oh yeah, you’re a victor, forgot about that.”  Taehyung is silent and never approaches any of the mentors that aren’t from District 11, so Jin doesn’t know much about him.  He watched a few scenes from his games and had to admit that for a kid from 11, Taehyung did pretty well. 

Out of all of them, Jin likes Jimin the most.  They both are noted for their good looks and charming personality, were both careers who backstabbed their allies, and are frequently at the Capitol with female sponsors by their side.  A natural friendship sparked between the two and when they are mentoring at the same time, they both push their tributes to form an alliance.  

Namjoon

Namjoon acts cordial with all victors but finds it ironic that he isn’t liked by Jin when he secretly hates the guy just as much.  Namjoon finds him very loud-mouthed and hungry for screen time.  Furthermore, Namjoon doesn’t respect the manner in which he won his games.  Sure, Namjoon knowingly lured tributes into his traps but he never went so far as to promise them his loyalty or protection.  

Yoongi and Namjoon actually got along for a while.  Namjoon was one of the few victors that Yoongi didn’t snap at and would actually have a civil conversation with.  When at the Capitol and mentoring, they both could be seen getting drinks together and having late night conversations.  But this stopped when Yoongi found out that Namjoon was going to go so far as help gamemakers design arenas for future games.  

Namjoon likes Hoseok and Taehyung well enough, he has respect for their game plays but doesn’t go out of his way to talk to them unless a tribute from 3 becomes allies with someone from 11 or 8.  They are quiet and don’t frequent the Capitol often so he doesn’t really get a chance to have a relationship with either of them.  He does get a sense that Hoseok and Taehyung rather work with him than any of the career mentors though.

Jimin....he’s an enigma to Namjoon.  A puzzle that Namjoon can’t quite figure out.  He’s tried multiple time to find out why Jimin volunteered and why there’s such odd rumors about him floating around the Capitol, but Jimin never answers directly and avoids Namjoon at all costs.  Namjoon thinks it’s because Jimin knows he will find out something eventually.  

Yoongi

To no one’s surprise, Yoongi despises Jin.  However, he is quiet about this one-sided hatred and doesn’t say anything when they cross paths.  Somewhere deep inside, Yoongi is self-aware that it’s not really Jin he hates, but what he represents.  Jin was a tribute turned celebrity and thus, in Yoongi’s eyes, a brain-washed Capitol slave.  There’s a fundamental difference between them.  While Yoongi runs away from the spotlight and regrets what he did to earn it, Jin seems to relish in it.  

Yoongi used to like Namjoon.  He appreciated his smarts and title of an underdog, and Namjoon had a calming effect of Yoongi.  But when Yoongi discovered that he was going to be helping Gamemakers with Arenas, Yoongi cut the friendship off.  He would never be friends with someone who lowered themselves to the level of helping them.  

Out of all the Victors, Yoongi gets along most with Hoseok and Taehyung.  Taehyung a bit more than Hoseok, because at least Taehyung doesn’t have a habit of overstepping his boundaries and telling Yoongi he should lay off the morphling.  But the two are quiet enough and seem to share the same sadness every year when the Games start up again, something Yoongi can relate to.  

Yoongi has heard things about Jimin and doesn’t like the bastard.  Yoongi has gone on a drunken rampage on the former career before, and Peacekeepers had to get involved.  Whenever they’re in the same room, he has a habit of muttering insults under his breath like ‘sell out’ or ‘whore’.  

Hoseok

Hoseok knows he shouldn’t judge people for what they did in the games, that the need to survive is overwhelming, that all tributes have their hands tied and are willing to do anything to make it back home.  But Hoseok still can’t understand why Jin did some of the things he did back in his games.  After watching Jin burn his allies alive, Hoseok almost threw up in sheer disgust.  Hoseok places a lot of importance on allies and can’t understand how someone could kill theirs so brutally and unnecessarily.  Hoseok has never said a word to Jin and intends to keep it that way.  

Namjoon is someone Hoseok has heard of before but never really met.  When the games start back up and mentors start scrambling to make alliances, everyone rushes to Namjoon.  He never has really gotten the chance to have a real conversation with him but his reputation proceeds him.  

Yoongi is a fine man under all his trauma, but all attempts Hoseok has made to get him to stop drinking/taking drugs during mentoring has fallen on deaf ears.  He routinely feels bad for the tributes from Six because he knows that Yoongi is no help to them when it comes to earning sponsors or getting allies. Yoongi is too lost in himself and refuses to “kiss ass” to see the situation at hand.  

Taehyung is boderline mute but Hoseok doesn’t mind his presence.  He and Taehyung both relate to using their Victor winnings to help people in their District and both can hardly stomach the games that play every year.  They are decent friends but it’s more out of relatability and tolerance than actual compatibility for Hoseok.  The other victors are too crazy for them, so they often feel like the only sane ones.  

Hoseok has heard things about Jimin, much like everyone else, but was determined to not let rumors get in the way of a potential friendship.  but when Hoseok introduced himself to Jimin, Jimin scoffed at his humble attire and made a comment about his fashion.  Hoseok wasn’t too keen on that and now agrees that Jimin might be the bimbo everyone else says he is.  

Taehyung

Taehyung has only had one interaction with Jin and it left a bad taste in his mouth.  It happened when both were mentoring and the girls from Eleven and One formed an alliance later in the game.  Jin approached him and told him that he hoped there would be no hard feelings when his tribute would without a doubt slit Taehyung’s tribute’s throat while they slept.  Taehyung avoids being in the same room as him now.

Taehyung likes Namjoon, but like Yoongi, he can’t understand why he is helping the Gamemakers now.  In his opinion, Namjoon might as well be a gamemaker if it continues and Taehyung can’t say he respects that all too much.  

Hoseok is the closest thing Taehyung has to a friend.  He understands that he’s not that conversational or even emotional but wherever Hoseok goes, Taehyung follows.  Besides, when they both are alone Hoseok talks enough for the both of them.  He despises going to the Capitol every year but finds the silver lining in the reminder that he can see Hoseok again.  

Yoongi is alright and Taehyung understands his pain even though he can’t really relate to the method Yoongi goes about solving that pain.  Secretly though, he finds his tantrums on TV rather funny and relishes in the shocked looks on the Capitol peoples’ faces.  

Taehyung didn’t have an opinion on Jimin.  But after Hoseok’s run-in with him he now dislikes the former career and can be seen glaring at him whenever they���re in the same room.  Although it’s rare anyone from 11 gets asked into a career alliance, Taehyung always warns his tributes about 4, stating that they’re back-stabbing eye candy.

Jimin

There was a Capitol lady who had employed the services of both Jin and Jimin, and that’s how they met.  They got to talking and realized they have a lot on common.  Both were Capitol favorites, both were former careers who turned on the pack and killed them, both are attractive and enjoy the spotlight of the Capitol.  Jimin likes Jin a lot and he sticks to his side whenever they both mentor.  In his mind, they have to stick together because most of the other victors like to blame the career mentors for every tribute death in the games.  Only Jin understands what it’s like.  

Namjoon creeps Jimin out.  He’s too smart for his own good and Jimin doesn’t trust someone from the Districts who managed to work his way into the gamemaker table.  He steers clear of him.  

Yoongi is a disgrace in Jimin’s eyes.  What happened, happened.  What is the use of flipping out every time there’s a camera in the room?  Might as well enjoy the Victor’s winnings while you can, right?  And if he really hated the games so much, why doesn’t he bother trying harder to mentor his tributes?  Shameful, really.  

Jimin didn’t even know who Hoseok was until he came up to him at the victor lounge and introduced himself as the mentor for District Eight.  All Jimin knew about District Eight was that they were in charge of textiles and clothing, and without thinking he made a comment while looking him up and down, “Isn’t Eight supposed to be really good with fashion?” Hoseok excused himself after that but Jimin secretly felt bad about it, since he was pretty drunk that night.  He’s tried to approach him again but the tall bastard from 11 is always glaring at him to stay put.  

Taehyung doesn’t like Jimin, and that’s enough for Jimin to not like him in return.  Even on the rare occasions when Jimin’s tributes ask him to approach 11, he refuses because it would mean talking to Taehyung.  He’s secretly very intimidated by him. 

[therealvalkyrie]

Painter’s Hands and Guatemalan Coffee: Part 4

the ackerman influence

Pairing/setting: Levi Ackerman x Female!Reader, modern!college!AU

Summary: When you catch your idiot boyfriend cheating, your grumpy roommate is there to pick up the pieces and watch your back as you toe a carefully drawn line in the metaphorical sand.  

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: consumption of alcohol and weed products, intoxication, swearing, pretty dang fluffy

AN: SURPRISE BITCHES it’s out tonight!! An infinite thank you belongs to my beloved @ghostlightprincess for her keen eye for editing and swoon-worthy compliments and encouragements. Seriously, this chapter is dedicated entirely to her. I hope y’all enjoy!! I hope y’all appreciate the love I gave Sasha this chapter because........reasons. Pleease feel free to come scream/squeal/chat in my DMs or askbox! In love with you all<3 ~valkyrie

(read part 3 here)

“Here, thisun ‘sblue!” Hange slurs as she passes you yet another shot glass with Greek letters etched on the side.

“Mmm, I like blue,” you giggle, then clink your shot with hers before you both tip your heads back to pour the liquor down your throats. It tastes inexplicably like turquoise, and you laugh loudly over the thumping dance music in approval. 

The poor freshman charged with staffing the drinks table eyes the pair of you skeptically. “Maybe you two should slow down, you seem like you’ve had enough—”

You round on him, offense written across your face. He’s definitely right, but you aren’t exactly gonna let some pimply, snot-nosed teen tell you how to drink. “Woah, Nelly, this ain’t cocktail hour, this is fuckin’ Greek row an’ I won’t have your judgment,” you waggle a finger in his general direction for emphasis, “harsh my vibe.”

“You tell ‘em, girlfriend,” Hange approves vaguely, hanging off your shoulder.

The freshman holds his hands up in defeat, amused. “No judgment.”

You nod once. 

“C’mon, Han, let’s see if we can find the snacks.”

“Pleeeeeeease…”

You turn away from the drinks table to do just that, angling towards where you remember the kitchen to be — honestly, this frat is huge — and set off through the crowd. Hange trails after you, fingers tangled with yours like they have been all night, yammering on about something you can’t be bothered to follow.

“‘Scuse us, comin’ through, on a mission!” You push past jostling bodies until you reach the far wall and lean against it for the last leg of your epic journey to the fluorescent lights of the kitchen.

Someone calls your name and you look up through squinted eyes to see Sasha leaned up against the counter by the fridge, bowl of chips in her arms and dab pen tucked behind her ear. She’s dressed casually, sweatpants and DIY cropped t-shirt contrasting your jeans and flashy top.

“Sasha! My love! My dearest, sweetest darling!” You stretch your arms wide towards her, Hange jolting forward where you’re connected. “We come in search of snacks.”

Sasha laughs and lazily deposits her bowl on the counter, stepping forward to stabilize you both with a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve come to the right place, my friends.”

She steers you both to sit at the island, wedging you between the only other two people in the kitchen. You vaguely recognize them as soccer players on the university team: a shaggy-haired brunette and a tall blonde. Sasha passes you her dab pen before ambling over to the pantry. You take a hit, then pass it to Hange, who’s looking much better now that she’s sitting down.

“Sash, these your friends?” the blonde asks, peering down at you through red-rimmed hazel eyes. You pluck the pen out of Hange’s limp grasp and offer it to him in greeting, along with a drunk smile. He takes it and grins back.

“Yep,” Sasha confirms with half her body still stuck into the pantry. “It’s the mad scientist one and the architect.”

“Almost architect,” you correct. “Not official until I have my degree! Although, I will agree, Han’s a mad scientist.” You poke her in the side and she swats you away with an eye roll.

“Oh,” the brunette soccer player pipes up from Hange’s other side, now looking at you curiously as well. He’s also high, startling green eyes hooded and posture relaxed. “So you’re Braun’s ex.”

You hide your shudder of distaste by turning back to take a drag off the pen. “Please don’t tell me that’s all I’m known for,” you sigh out with a cloud of smoke.

“Eren, don’t be an ass.” Sasha finally returns with a box of chocolate pretzels and a bag of hot Cheetos. “Pick your poison, hot stuff,” she offers each in turn. You ponder for a second, then reach for the Cheetos. “That’s Eren—” she points to the brunette, who raises a lazy hand “—and that’s Jean—” the blonde reaches for the pretzels. Sasha makes an offended noise and cradles them to her chest.

You introduce both yourself and Hange while Sasha plays defense against Jean’s long reach.

“Sorry,” Eren apologizes to you, leaning over Hange to grab some Cheetos. “I heard what he did to you. Really shitty.” His tone is casual, but the way he’s practically pinning you in place with his eyes makes you twitch.

“Puh-lease,” Hange pulls out the word, long and sarcastic. “‘Twas more than shitty, what that douche did. I’d’ve wrung him out to dry, but she didn’t—”

You cut her off with a sharp poke to her side. “Drop it, Han, I don’t wanna think about it.”

“But— ooh!” She’s sufficiently distracted when you shove your food in front of her face.

“Sorry,” Eren apologizes again.

“S’okay,” you sigh and take another drag, then hold the pen out to him in a peace offering. He smiles slowly and takes it.

“You guys staying over? There’s plenty of room in the basement, and friends of Sasha’s are always welcome.” It’s Jean who offers, returning to his seat beside you with a singular pretzel for his trouble.

“Hmm, might be nice,” Hange muses, but you’re already shaking your head.

“Thank you, but my roommate’d probably have a conniption if I wasn’t home in the morning.”

Hange actually snorts at this, then starts coughing violently because of the hot Cheeto dust suddenly up her nose. You pat her back in mild concern.

“What, they got a stick up their ass or something?” Eren asks.

“Or something. Levi’s just protective.”

“Levi?” Eren’s eyes are suddenly wide, almost fearful. “Levi Ackerman?”

“Yeah.” Your tone edges on defensive. “Why?”

He takes a hit and shrugs before answering. “He’s just my foster sister’s cousin. Interesting family.”

“Oh, you mean Mikasa?” You didn’t know exactly how they were related, but she’d helped Levi move in and it had struck you how eerily similar they were in disposition.

“Yeah, Mikasa. She’s around here somewhere…” As though by magic, he turns to look over his shoulder just as Mikasa and another blonde boy you don’t recognize mosey in from the hallway. She’s leaning down to catch his soft words and he’s talking with his hands, stalling as his eyes light on the little group in the kitchen.

“Oh, hey guys,” he greets. 

“Armiiiin,” Eren greets with a genuine smile. “Come meet some new friends.”

The pair rounds the kitchen island, Armin allowing Eren to pull him in by the arm and Mikasa going to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Sasha. 

“I know you,” Hange pipes up, tilting her head to observe Armin. “You’re in the sophomore biochem class I TA for. Arlert, right?”

Armin ducks his head in a nod. “Yep. Professor LaBelle is a wonder, I had a great time this semester.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Hange’s grin is almost slipping to the dangerous side of intrigued. “I graded your final paper, by the way, and just between us, you set the grade curve.”

He blushes red but his eyes shine with something akin to satisfaction. “Really? That’s a relief, it was a bear to write.”

Eren leans back behind Hange to gesture to you, looking across the kitchen at his foster sister. “Mikasa, this is—”

“—Levi’s roommate,” they say at the same time.

“I know.” Her dark eyes regard you interestedly. “Hi, again,” she greets, saying your name even though she’s maybe heard it once in her life.

“Hi!” You give a small wave.

“What, uh, what,” Jean clears his throat and you look up at him to catch a blush staining across his cheeks and nose. He’s looking at Mikasa. “What’re you guys up to in the basement?”

“We were just going to start a movie, Connie’s setting up the projector,” Mikasa says, eyes flicking from you to Eren. “Wanted to see if you guys wanted to join.”

Jean stands suddenly, his stool rocking from the force of it. “Y-yeah, we’ll join!” Sasha hides a snicker behind her hand.

Eren stands, too, between Armin and Hange, who are still chatting. He looks down at you and says your name like a question. “You coming?”

You find yourself shaking your head again. “I’m so crossed, I think if I even look at a couch I’ll fall asleep. And I, uh,” you yawn, slipping your phone out of a back pocket to check the time. 12:11 AM. “I should be getting home.”

It’s earlier than when you would normally call it quits, but suddenly all you can think about is going home and falling into Levi’s clean, soft-smelling sheets. Plus, it’s the Saturday preceding finals week and tonight was only meant to blow off steam between intense days of studying.

“You stayin’?” You bump Hange with your shoulder, and she looks around at you with wide eyes as though she forgot you were there.

“Hmm?”

“You stayin’ for the movie?”

“We’re watching It: Chapter Two,” Armin supplies, eyes crinkled in excitement.

Hange’s eyes grow impossibly wider behind her glasses and she grabs your elbow a little too hard. “You wouldn’t mind, right? I’ve been meaning to watch it.”

You smile and shake your head. “Wouldn’t mind at all. You stay, I’ll call an Uber.”

The whole group starts migrating in the lazy way drunk and high people do: Mikasa helps Sasha with the snacks; Eren and Jean grab canned drinks from the fridge; Armin and Hange gravitate towards the door, talking fast with words you’ve never heard before. You stay sitting at the island, tapping away at your phone to order a car.

When you stand to find the front door, your high hits you from behind like a fuckin’ baseball bat and you sway dangerously. You whistle through your teeth, low and soft, planting a hand on the counter. Sasha looks over at you in concern, her arms full.

“You okay, babe?”

“Yeah, I just… what is in that dab pen?”

She laughs, head tilting back. “Good shit, right? Got that one new last week.”

“For real…” you trail off, getting your bearings.

“Here,” Mikasa starts, piling even more food into Sasha’s arms, “I’ll walk you out. Levi would skin me if he knew I didn’t make sure your driver’s not an ax murderer.”

Normally, you’d protest, but the room really is starting to spin.

“Okay,” you sigh and allow her to hook your arm through hers. She’s surprisingly solid, and you find yourself leaning heavily into her. “How’re you still sober?”

“I don’t drink or smoke,” she answers, gently pushing past Armin standing in the doorway. “Doesn’t affect me, anyway, so it’d just be a waste of money.”

“Huh,” you grunt, then twist to wave to the group. “Night, everyone.”

A replying chorus of “goodnight” chases you and Mikasa through the dark foyer littered with drunken party-goers. 

“Oh, wait,” she pauses with a hand on the doorknob. “Did you bring a jacket?”

“Oh,” you wrinkle your nose and think back to getting ready in the afternoon. It had been unseasonably warm and your coat didn’t match your outfit. “No, I didn’t bring one.”

Mikasa gives you an odd look and deposits you by the door. “I’ll be right back.”

Your body feels light as you lean back, tucking your hands into your armpits so they don’t float away. Your eye catches on movement in the dark shadows by the staircase and you squint, trying to see who’s there. It takes a second, but you eventually make out a pair of people, well… making out. They’re completely absorbed in each other, bodies impossibly close and you giggle quietly to yourself before your stomach rolls. No, don’t think about… too late.

You shut your eyes tight and turn away from the couple to lean sideways against the wall. The image is too similar, too gut-punchingly familiar.

“Didn’t mean what? Didn’t mean to stick your tongue down my best friend’s throat? Didn’t mean to practically fuck your best friend’s girlfriend in public?”

The biting words and stuttered apologies are still rolling around in your head when Mikasa comes back, thick puffer coat in hand. She hands it to you and you mutter a subdued “thanks,” twitching to dislodge the dull pain that’s settled in your ribs.

“It’s Eren’s, but he won’t mind. He doesn’t wear this one a lot, and you can just give it back next time we see you.”

“Right,” you nod, head moving a little too easily as you slip your arms in and fumble with the zipper. The faux fur around the hood tickles your face as Mikasa flips it up over your head. She’s clearly experienced in the art of taking care of intoxicated people.

Outside, you’re grateful you bundled up because the temperature has dropped significantly since the afternoon. Chilly December wind bites at your face and you bury your hands in coat pockets to save them from the same fate. Your fingers brush against something cold and metallic, and before you know it you’re pulling out a fistful of crumby objects: a super plus tampon, the packaging split down the side; two “for her pleasure” condoms; and, inexplicably, a Hot Wheels matchbox car. An ugly snort escapes your nose and Mikasa looks over at you in alarm. You raise up your fist and she chuckles through her nose as well. Squinting in the dim light of a flickering streetlamp, you find the expiration date on the condoms to be several months ago, so you lean over to a convenient trash can and toss both them and the tampon. The matchbox car returns to the pocket. Who knows, maybe Eren’ll miss it if it’s gone.

Mikasa doesn’t look affected by the cold, only winding her red scarf more securely around her neck as you both quietly wait on the sidewalk for your Uber. A quick glance at the app tells you that it’s three minutes away.

“Are you and Levi close?” You find yourself asking into the night sounds of Greek Row on a Saturday night.

You almost think she doesn’t hear you over the sound of a group spilling out of a neighboring sorority, but then she answers.

“Not particularly. We didn’t grow up together and only connected because of Uncle Kenny a couple years ago.” Her tone is light and casual as she talks about her family, as though you should know who Uncle Kenny is. Should I know who Uncle Kenny is?

“Oh,” is all you can think to say.

“We may not be close,” she starts again, eyeing you closely, “but I think we’re very similar. And I can tell he cares a lot about you.”

“Oh. Right.” Your palms are suddenly sweaty in your pockets.

“He may not show it,” her tone is careful, “But he does.”

You smile faintly and kick your boot against the curb. “He does show it, in his own way. He’s been really good to me.” Somehow, it’s easy to talk about this to Mikasa, even when you get all stuttery and weird having an identical conversation with Hange. Maybe it’s the drugs and alcohol, or maybe it’s because there’s not a hint of judgment in Mikasa’s eyes. Either way, it feels good to speak your feelings into the world.

“Good.” She nods and follows your gaze to where you’re still scuffing the curb. “Some unsolicited advice for you: if you ever want anything besides mutual pining to come out of it, you need to be really obvious. Or make the first move outright.”

This makes you stutter and wring your hands, she just puts it so bluntly. “R-right, the first move…. Oh, I think that’s my car.”

“What’s the license plate number we’re looking for?”

You read it out from the app while Mikasa steps to the back of the blue sedan that just pulled up. She nods, confirming it’s the same, then circles to the driver’s side window, which is cracked open.

“Hi,” you greet the driver, a blonde woman in her late twenties, and confirm her name matches the one in the app before sliding into the back seat. Mikasa leans down to murmur something to her and she nods, glancing back at you in the rearview mirror.

“G’night, Mikasa,” you call out the window. “Thanks for everything. And tell Eren thanks for the jacket.”

She waves as the car pulls away. You settle into the quiet hum of the car and let your mind wander. 

Mutual pining. Make the first move outright….

—

“Mikasa texted me,” Levi says by way of greeting as you stumble out of the car and thank your driver. He’s leaning on a lamp post outside your apartment building when your Uber pulls up, jacket and boots pulled on over flannel pajamas. 

“Levi, stand ominously on the sidewalk often?” you ask, dragging out his name long and sing-song.

“Only for you, kid.” He loops an arm around your waist and steers you towards the entryway

“Not a kid,” you grumble, masking the stutter of your heart at his usual pet name for you. Somewhere in the last couple of weeks, it’s gained a weightier significance, at least to you. It’s endearing and a little distancing and charged all at once and it makes your head spin as you climb the stairs up to your floor.

At your door, Levi unlocks it while you drift slowly in a circle next to him, trying to expend the sudden nervous energy you’ve gained in his presence.

The first move, first move, first move… Mutual pining. Mutual.

“What are you muttering about?”

You hadn’t realized you were thinking out loud.

“Nothing,” you say quickly and pass through the door he’s holding open for you. Your momentum carries you farther than you mean to go, and he catches you by the elbow, reeling you back to the coat rack by the door.

“Whose jacket is that?” He shrugs off his own and eyes the faux fur around your face skeptically.

You fumble with the zipper for a second before he sighs and reaches for it himself, stepping into your space. His face is so close to yours you can feel his breath ghosting over your collarbone as he unzips the jacket.

“Eren’s,” you finally answer. “Look.” You pull the matchbox car out of its pocket and show it to Levi with a wide grin. He stares at it for a second, then the tiniest smile twitches onto his lips.

“He’s a weird kid.” It’s almost fond, with an undertone of exasperation.

“You know him?”

“Yeah, he’s in the art department, too. Graphic design major, marketing minor. I TAed his freshman seminar last year.” Levi slips the coat off your shoulders as he speaks, then hangs it by the loop next to his. 

“Ah, that makes sense,” you muse, wandering farther into the apartment. “He looked terrified when I mentioned you. What’d you do to those poor freshmen?”

“Nothing they didn’t deserve.”

“...ominous,” you hiss, your eyes wide as you let him gently push you into your room. The nervous energy hasn’t quite been expended, and you find your hands wringing with it. Suddenly, you’re rambling about your night as he sits you down on your bed among the laundry that’s taken residence there in its disuse. The stupid song they played at the first frat; Sasha’s excellent food; the blue mystery shot.

“It tasted like turquoise, I swear, Levi! It was like magic!” Your eyes are wide, insistent as you lean forward into his space.

“How does something taste like turquoise?” He ducks his head to avoid your face, fingers untying the knotted laces of your boots.

“You’re the artist, you tell me.”

“I don’t eat my paint.”

“Not even once? Not gonna lie, your paint looks very tasty, sometimes…”

“Are you always this annoying when you’re high?” He tugs the second boot off your foot as you let yourself fall back onto your bed.

“Come on, you love me,” you crow to the ceiling. Mutual pining.

Levi mutters something under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. Where do you keep your pajamas?” He stands and looks around your room.

“Middle drawer, left side,” you direct, lazily motioning to your dresser with an arm. Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to Levi pick his way across the floor and slide the drawer open.

Normally, you can get yourself in bed after a night out just fine. Normally, you slip into the apartment making as little noise as possible, and fall into bed without Levi even waking up. But it feels nice to have his steady hands on you when it feels like your organs might start floating apart at any second. It’s anchoring and reassuring and you can feel the safety of being near him lulling you into a doze.

Come on, you love me.

You shoot up to sitting, mind whirling and chest tight. “L-Levi?”

“What.”

“D-do…” Do you love me? “Do you think I’m pretty?” It feels petty in your mouth and you immediately regret the words, but it would be worse to try and take them back, so you just bite your lip and look down at the floor.

A hand plops onto the top of your head. Levi’s gray eyes meet yours, soft with something you can’t describe, when he tilts your head up. He’s quiet for a moment, then reaches his other hand to thumb your bottom lip out from between your teeth.

“I think you’re very pretty.”

--

(read part 5 here)

[clouditae]

First Love | 11

Yoongi x reader | 18+ | college au | tattoo artist au | angst | fluff | swearing

Word: 2.6k

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

It’s been about a week since you last saw Yoongi. A week since you’ve discovered that he has a past with Sam, the girl you met at the party, but you’re not fully sure if it’s the same Sam and what past they have. 

You never told Ari about this. It was too… embarrassing for you to mention. You did what Ari didn’t want you to get hurt about, and you’re deeply hurt. Sure you didn’t do the actual thing with Yoongi like a lot of girls have, but what you did and what happened after caused a silence between the two of you. It’s not like you’re avoiding him the way he’s avoiding you. He hasn't texted you or talked to you, and Hoseok says there’s usually a girl in his room so he has to wait for her to leave before he can go in. 

Ari would give you worried glances, but you’d brush it off like you’re not about to cry because your feelings for him grew ten times more. When you left his room and went to yours, you lied in bed and cried yourself to sleep. Just like you did the first night of the year. That fear you felt when you were in that room only proved to be right. This ended badly and you’re left feeling empty.

Right now you’re sitting in class trying to focus on the lecture rather than on Sam and Yoongi, and you and Yoongi. You want to know who this girl is and what past they have together to make Yoongi sound so hateful. The only person you can ask is the person who knows him best. Thankfully you’re meeting Ari and Hoseok for lunch after class. 

As your professor finishes his lecture, you pack your belongings and leave the room like a lot of eager students who are just done listening to long rambles about night photography and how to have a better advantage when taking them. Walking down the hallway, you reach the stairwell and follow the group of people heading down. When you’re out of the building, you make your way towards the food court where Ari and Hoseok will be waiting. 

Not having your earphones in, you’re stuck with listening in on others conversations. Nothing is interesting to you; they talk about class or “the bastard is gonna get his ass beat when I see him this weekend—I can’t believe he cheated on me”. Conversations you can care less for. You have your own problems and one of those is how to bring Sam up in a conversation without causing Ari to get suspicious and cause Hoseok to question things. Sweet Hoseok is oblivious, and you want to keep it that way when you ask about her. 

Off into the distance, further away from the court, compared to you, is Hoseok chatting with someone. Your face lights up in realization as you pick up the pace to the food court. With another quick glance at Hoseok, and realizing he’s making his way over, you lightly jog inside and scan the area for Ari. You’re starting to feel the panic as Hoseok gets closer and closer to the building while your eyes continue to glance back and forth in the room. 

Where is she?

“Y/N over here,” her voice rings, hand waving towards you from the far left corner of the room. 

You almost run to her now as you throw your bag on a chair next to you and rush, “Whatever I ask Hoseok play along—I’ll explain everything later—” 

Hoseok has just arrived. “Hey guys,” he says, smiling as he takes a seat next to Ari and places a kiss at her temple. 

You try your best to act like nothing happened. “Hey. Are you guys ready to eat? I’m starving,” you tell them, voice wavering just a bit from the adrenaline of just a simple beating him here. 

“Yeah, let’s get some grub,” he agrees, smiling oh-so happily as he gets up. To your luck he never catches on, but Ari’s now staring at you with a curious look. You give her a begging look and that is all you need to do before she gives up and plays along with your request, but you know she’ll be barking questions the second the two of you are alone. “What are you guys in the mood for? I got an A on my performance so it’s my treat,” Hoseok explains, a huge grin on his face as he wraps his arms around Ari’s and your shoulders. 

“I’ll never deny free food, and congrats, babe.” Ari gets on her tiptoes and places a kiss on his cheek.  

“Thanks, baby, and don’t even argue with me Y/N, you’re letting me pay today,” Hoseok concludes without giving you a chance to deny his offer. 

You sigh, “Then can I have Chinese?” You point to the stand next to the Greek food stand. 

“I’m down for some Chinese,” Ari inputs. 

“Chinese it is!” 

After spending five minutes waiting for Ari to decide what she wants, getting in line and placing your order, and finally getting your food, the three of you sit at the table, munching on your orders. Ari and Hoseok spend a majority of the time talking while you struggle to find a way to bring up Yoongi and Sam. There never seems to be a perfect moment, and the longer you wait, the closer you get to finishing your food and leaving for the day while Hoseok goes back to class. 

But it’s like fate is on your side as Hoseok says, “Yoongi seems to be having a lot of girls over because almost every day when I go to the room, there’s a piece of red tape on the door. This is worse than usual. I know I said this before, but I really want to go in my room once in a while without having to wait all the time.”

It hurts. It hurts more than anything to hear that again, but you can’t let that pain show on your face even as Ari glances at you with a worried expression once again. “Oh, yeah,” you begin, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I forgot to say this last time, but some time last week I heard someone knocking on his door. It was a girl and it sounded like Yoongi wasn’t happy to see her there,” you claim, leaving out the details of being in his bathroom rather than in your room. 

Hoseok frowns. “Really? Did you happen to catch her name or what she looks like?”

“I didn’t see what she looks like, but I think he said Sam?” You try to look like you’re struggling to remember what he said, but his words are so clear in your head. 

You can see the slight shock on Hoseok’s face as he mutters, “Oh.” 

So he does know Sam. “Do you know her?” you question. 

Hoseok can only shake his head as he answers, “Yeah. She’s Yoongi’s ex girlfriend.” 

You need more information. You feel desperate for more information. “What happened between them? It has to be something bad since he didn’t sound happy and you don’t look like she’s a great person.” 

Hoseok picks at his food, taking a quick glance at you. “You can’t tell him I told you this.” 

You do your best not to look eager as you nod. “Of course.” 

“They met when they were sophomores in high school. It was an immediate attraction, and after five months they were dating. They’ve been together for four years before they broke up last year.”

“Why did they break up?” Ari asks, seemingly invested in Yoongi’s past just as much as you are. 

He sits back, running a hand down his face. “When Yoongi is dedicated to something, he’s dedicated. He’s also not good at expressing his feelings. In high school and even now he works on making music, so he tends to be cooped up in his room for days. Sam wanted attention from him—you know, to know he still loves her, but Yoongi struggles with that. Last year Yoongi caught her cheating on him, and that was the end of that.” 

You can’t think of anything to say. He met a girl; he fell in love, and now he’s heartbroken. How long did it take for him to fall in love with her? How long will he continue to let this eat him whole? 

“That must have sucked,” Ari mutters with a sincere tone. 

“Yeah, and I’m really hoping the girl that is in the room isn’t her,” Hoseok groans, taking a bite of his food.

“Never get back with an ex. Especially if they’ve cheated on you,” Ari recites, as if it’s an actual rule written in a book somewhere. 

“What does she look like?” you inquire. You have to know that the woman you met at the party, the nice girl who made you feel a bit more comfortable being there... You have to know that she is not the Sam that broke Yoongi’s heart. But the memory of Yoongi’s dejected look flashes in your head. 

It is her. You know it. You were his distraction in the bathroom when he saw her that day. 

“She has like red blondish hair? Brown eyes. She’s a theater arts major, so if you’ve gone to plays you may have seen her.” He shrugs, finishing the rest of his food. 

“Plays? I’ve been to a few.” Ari taps her chin in thought. “I’m trying to remember a girl with that hair color. What plays has she been in?”

“Uhhh…” he trails off, eyes darting back and forth a bit as he tries to remember. “The last time I saw one was when she was in Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew. She was Katherine? I’m not a pro at Shakespeare, so I’m not totally sure if she played that character.” 

“Oh! The strawberry blonde? She’s gorgeous,” Ari comments, eyes wide with surprise.

Yeah, she really is, you confirm, remembering how pretty she is and how her laugh was so bubbly and warm. You can feel a tinge of jealousy boiling in the pit of your stomach. She’s pretty, friendly, funny and so much more. Yoongi fell in love with her. He’ll never fall in love with you, and you hate yourself for thinking about that. 

“You’ve seen her before?” Ari asks.

You blink a few times in realization that you said those words out loud. “Yeah. She was at the party I went to. She was the other team I was playing against in beer pong.” 

“Really?” Hoseok baffles, voice louder than before. Ari covers his mouth, smiling apologetically to the eyes glancing in your direction. They’re the perfect couple when it comes to being loud. He removes his girlfriend’s hand from his mouth. “No wonder Yoongi was acting weird when he came back. He was in a pissy mood—more than usual,” he adds. 

“Damn. He must really hate her.” Ari shakes her head, pressing the lock button on her phone to check the time. “Oh, babe you should go. Class starts in ten,” she tells Hoseok, looking to him as her phone goes black once again.  

Taking a quick glance at his watch, his eyes widen before he closes the lid to his box, picking it up along with his backpack. “You’re right. I’ll see you guys later.” Giving a quick kiss to Ari, Hoseok quickly leaves the food court. 

The second he’s out of sight, Ari’s attention is now on you. “So are you going to tell me what that was about?”

You sigh. You can’t have a second to yourself before she bombards you with questions, but it’s just like you predicted. “Well what I told Hoseok was what I told you to wait for.” You avert your gaze. “Except I was in Yoongi’s bathroom when Sam knocked on his door.” 

“What were you doing in his room?” You can see the hint of curiosity and playfulness dance on her face.

“What happened that day was a mistake. Sam clearly wants him back, and Yoongi hasn’t spoken to me since that day.” You can see that Ari wants more information as to what happened that day, but you just aren’t ready to tell her. Tell her what will most likely be the biggest mistake you’ll ever make. “I’ll tell you some time, Ari. Just not now.” 

Her being your best friend, she can tell your distress and can only nod, reaching across the table to take your hand in hers. “Whenever you’re ready, hon, I’ll be here and ready to beat ass if necessary.” You nod, now fighting the urge to cry all over again. You’ve been fighting the urge to cry almost every day, and you feel ridiculous about it. “Want to head back to the dorm?” 

You nod again, closing the lid to your entrée box. You grab your backpack, along with your food and follow her to the trash can to toss the food and follow her out of the building. Walking through the crowd, Ari loops her arm through yours, smiling as she leads you to the bus stop to wait for your ride back to the dorm. 

A short, and somewhat crowded ride later, you and Ari lie in your own beds staring up at the ceiling in silence. “I know I have a paper to write, but right now I could care less what the four main issues Hunston discusses regarding in corpus design are. I think I’d rather talk about the Tokugawa era and its fall than anything with corpus linguistics,” Ari complains, the sound of her feet hitting her bed filling the silence. 

You frown in confusion. “What?”

“Exactly!” she whines, “Why did I decide to take five classes this semester?”

“Why did you?” you ask her, turning to your side to see her through the mirror. She can’t see you though, so it always makes you feel a bit weird staring at her without her really knowing it. 

“I want my last semester to be the easiest,” she answers, her smile spreading across her lips. The smile leaves as she sits up and stares at you. Seeing her serious expression, you sit up and look at her. “If you don’t want to do this with Yoongi anymore you should tell him. I’ll make something up to Hoseok if he asks.”

You give her a small smile as your gaze goes down to your hands on your lap. You know you have to end things with him. If you continue to receive these lessons it’ll only hurt you in the end. You can’t keep pushing yourself onto this hope that he’ll one day fall for you. No matter how much you wish for his attention, you’ll never get it. “Yeah, I know,” you whisper, blinking back the tears. 

You hear her moving around before the sound of her feet hitting the floor causes you to look up. She grabs her white water bottle. “I’m gonna go fill up my bottle and then find Rollan downstairs because I have questions about bringing a cat in here.” You chuckle. “Be back,” she sings, opening the door and leaving the room. 

When the door closes with a bang, you let out a shaky sigh and grab your phone that’s hidden under your pillow. You unlock it, going to your contacts and search for his name. Once you tap on his name and open the text, you type away with shaky fingers. 

[1:14 pm] Me: Hey. After thinking about it, I feel like I’ve learned enough to try and find someone on my own. I won’t be needing those lessons anymore. I hate you.

Deleting the last sentence, you hit send.

[dragynkeep]

I saw that you did top 5 best female & male characters in rwby and why, so i was wondering could you do the same but for 5 rwby worst female & male characters you dislike and why.

luke did this ask before along with the best one so i’mma steal this for me.

worst female characters.

robyn hill  —  hands down one of the most annoying additions to the show. she is meant to be robin hood yet fails in the character’s motivations & ideals in every instance, her outfit / general design are clunky & poorly thought out, her personality has the exact desirability of hot garbage juice & she herself is just as appealing. the only slightly fun thing about robyn is her voice actress, the amazing christina vee & the potential she could’ve had that i really enjoy seeing be brought out in fanfics instead. in canon? robyn can go rot.

blake belladonna  —  our resident all lives matter queen who was meant to be a champion for all minorities watching the show, a bisexual icon & a shining example of an abuse survivor ... only to fail on all three. blake’s influence on the racism storyline only makes her come off as a privileged brat who would lecture those who are just trying to survive & blame them for the actions of a terrorist organization she was part of, & it was dropped as soon as her abusive ex was killed. her actions as an abuse survive are nonsensical at times. & blake wasn’t even confirmed to be bisexual representation until eight years into the show & she / her female love interest still aren’t canonically together while the cishet writers hide behind a slow burn excuse that was never applied to their m / f couples.

ruby rose  —  it sounds nonsensical to say this about our main character & i wouldn’t have put her on this before v7 & 8, but her favouritism by the narrative in those two volumes to the point the story would break it’s back to justify her drove me crazy. i was watching this character who we were meant to root for make mistake after mistake after mistake & hide behind her age & inexperience like a coward; like she hadn’t shoved her way into this war & rejected everyone around her who had experience & wanted to help because they didn’t want to do it her way. ruby behaved like a petulant child & i have no doubt that this isn’t going to change.

cinder fall  —  listen she was always a middling type of character for me, i didn’t hate her but i didn’t love her either. cinder was just cinder, a kind of flat antagonist who didn’t go anywhere; until they tried to make her go somewhere & in doing so had her repeat the same character arc like three times. her “backstory” that was just cinderella lazily copy & pasted eight years after people had been asking for it was the final nail in the coffin for me. they waited too long & got too lazy.

nora valkyrie  —  again, not really a character i thought i would’ve put on here after i really started to like her in volume 4 when she & ren finally began to get character development. they were kind of in the background which annoyed me but they weren’t being obnoxious so it was fine. i want to go back to v4 - 6 so bad lmao; nora in these two volumes has been horrendous. not only did she ignore all of ren’s boundaries when he was trying to ask for space, she thought the appropriate action to him asking for that space & struggling to vocalize it was to kiss him without consent. and then, she co opts his entire arc anyways for v8 & now it’s nora who wants the space & ren is being unreasonable, ren is forcing her boundaries, ren is in the wrong. fuck her stupid ass one liner backstory too. nora dropped so far on my shitlist because of her actions the last two volumes smh.

worst male characters.

qrow branwen  —  again much like ruby & nora; i never thought i’d put qrow on here but his behaviour in these last volume especially has just dropped my fondness for him all the way to the grave lmao. he acts so much like ruby, a petulant child who was told no & lost his favourite toy, while acting like he didn’t specifically break that toy. he went from someone who was level headed, if an absolute asshole to a whiny manchild who spent the entire volume crying in a jail cell about how he was gonna kill his dead boyfriend’s boss because he doesn’t wanna admit he got him killed. & then he forgot about that in the last five minutes to cry about his potentially dead nieces, which only left me thinking, where was your concern about them the rest of this volume qrow? so yeah. on the shitty character list you go buddy.

ghira belladonna  —  i would change my mind & make this dumbass number one but he’s always annoyed me so i’m more settled with that emotion whereas qrow is a new development. but ghira is literally worse than annoying, he’s a useless character who takes up space & actively worsens the plot & the character  —  mainly blake  —  that he’s connected to. everything from his useless pacificism to the fact he’s a privileged faunus living in a mansion while his people are in huts to the fact that he’s now retaken the helm at the head of the white fang like?? what about his mentality has changed & how will that prevent another terroristic faction raising up in result of his negligence towards their people in favour of his own comfort driven pacifism?

hazel rainart  —  sir, your motivation is hokey & your hair is dumb & your braid ribs are giving me nightmares. originally i didn’t have as much of an issue with hazel infantilizing his grown twin sister because i thought we were at least going to get some rebuttal to this man using her death to metaphorically & then physically beat on ozpin. but no, he was validated & then had the gall to use her name in order to guilt trip ozpin in the “ no more gretchens ” line  —  like he hadn’t created dozens of gretchens in mistral with tyrian? sir you are a mass murderer  —  & then went out like an ass in one of the laziest redemption arcs i’ve ever seen. bravo, you suck.

adam taurus  —  he’s really not the highest on this list because i recognize that this is more because of milk & kornflake’s white comfort bleeding into their writing of a marginalized man & less of actually him as a character. adam is a bastard but he’s so much of a hate sink that i can’t take him seriously or hate him because of these traits; if mkek told me he killed puppies as a hobby, i wouldn’t hate adam for that, i’d hate them for continually making him edgier & edgier while ignoring their own racism around his writing.

scarlet david  —  this one’s a little bit of a joke one but also, i just hate this catty fay gay. get back in the closet sir because your face annoys me & your attitude stinks. i’m renting the down with cis bus just to run him over. ♥

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 23: Dukeceit

I’m very aware it’s October. But I will get all these prompts done!

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 23 - At a certain age you switch bodies with your soulmate for 24 hours. (I may have changed this one slightly, too.)  

Content warnings: kidnapping mention, food/coffee mentions, homophobia mentions (though none is really seen), just so much caffeine.

The first thing Janus noticed when he woke up was that this was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Which, to be fair, was an accurate reaction, seeing as he was in the wrong room.

His initial thought was that he’d been kidnapped, but no, that couldn’t be right. It was just another bedroom, not a basement or a van or whatever kidnappers used. It was a regular, teenage looking bedroom, with clothes littering the floor and the desk, large posters haphazardly stuck at every angle on the wall, and a phone charging on the nightstand next to him. So, definitely not a kidnapping. 

When his mind finally cleared from his post-waking haze, he sighed in resignation. Apparently the universe had decided that today was the day he would switch bodies with his soulmate, on the day he had specifically set aside to study for a huge biology test that would make or break his grade in the class. Hopefully the school took pity on him and let him redo it. If they believed him, that is… he wasn’t exactly the most honest student.

Groaning, he threw the blankets off him and stumbled to the full body mirror on the door, inspecting the reflection. His soulmate was cute, he’d give him that, but it did nothing to disperse the internal confusion at seeing someone else looking back at him in the mirror. It also felt super weird to be attracted to… well, himself, at the moment, technically? He pushed a strand of white hair, dyed lighter than the rest of the black locks, out of his face and leaned forward, trying to decipher if the eye color was brown or murky green, when the door flew open and hit him in the face.

He yelped upon hitting the floor, rubbing his forehead, and glaring up at the intruder.

“Who the hell are you?” He hissed before he could stop himself, meeting the eyes of a very confused guy standing in the doorway. Blinking, he looked back into the mirror, and then back to the newcomer, wondering for a second if he was hallucinating. It took him far too long to remember the concept of twins, mentally facepalming as the other spoke.

“What do you mean, who the hell am I? Really, not one of your best pranks, Remus.”

“I’m not pranking you. I’m not Remus.”

The other merely blinked, staring at him blankly, until a look of realization crossed his face. “Oooohh! You’re his-”

“Yeah,” Janus snarked, getting back to his feet, “I am. Who are you?”

“Uhm, I’m Roman. Your- I mean, his brother. Remus’ brother. What’s your name?”

He brushed nonexistent dirt off his pajama top, an old and ripped oversized t-shirt, and responded, “Janus.”

“Janice? Huh,” Roman wrinkled his brow, casting a look behind him before stepping in and closing the door behind him, “I could have sworn Remus was gay.”

“I’m not a girl, you deflated airbag. I’m named after a Roman god, and I am very much male.”

Roman was at a loss for words, watching Janus approach Remus’ closet and look through it scrutinizingly. “He has good taste.”

“That’s what you call good taste?” The brother asked, peering over his shoulder at the chaos of ripped cloth and mesh and leather. He was frankly shocked there was any left in the closet, seeing as there was what appeared to be enough for a whole other wardrobe on the floor.

“I wouldn’t personally wear it. I’m more classy than that. But,” He picked out a weathered jean vest, adorned with pins and spikes, “Hot.”

Roman tried to hide his eye roll. “You’ll get along with him well. I came up to get you- er, Remus, but now you, I guess. For breakfast.”

Right on time, a woman’s voice carried up through the house, calling for them. Janus shrugged and followed Roman out the door, abandoning his discovery on a chair and pulling up the first hoodie from the floor. He didn’t generally like to wear oversized things, so he was surprised that the almost blanket-like garment was so comfortable. 

“Ah, took you long enough. It’s getting cold.” Janus took in the downstairs area, a small kitchen and dining room in one, leading off into a living room. It was all comfortable, the sunshine raging through the picture window on the wall closest to the table, highlighting the steam rising off the food. 

Janus stood at the bottom of the stairs as Roman took his seat opposite his parents, gesturing to the seat next to him.

“Remus, sweetie, everything okay?”

For a solid second, he forgot that he was supposed to be Remus and just stared blankly at the woman who had spoken. 

“That’s not Remus. It’s his soulmate.” Roman said absently around a bite of food.

Their mother’s expression turned to delight, standing up immediately and engulfing Janus in a hug that he didn’t return, “Oh, welcome, darling! It’s so nice to meet you! Join us for breakfast, and you can go about contacting Remus later. Sound good?”

“I guess.” He didn’t seem to have a choice either way as he was ushered to sit next to Roman, his plate pushed a little closer to him by the mom. The dad was just taking him in, chewing slowly, and everything in Janus was yelling at him to look away. But Janus was never one to shy away from a stare off, so he kept eye contact, hoping that Remus had the same glare that his own face did. He must have, since the man finally looked back down to his plate.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” Jeez, did this woman always have to use pet names? 

“Janus.” He responded simply, pulling in his first bite of food. It was good, he’d admit, but his own house never had these kinds of… family get-togethers, and to say he was uncomfortable was an understatement. 

“Janice? Huh, must be weird being in a boy’s body, yeah?” Her face clearly conveyed that it was supposed to be a joke, or maybe some fucked up icebreaker, but he was more annoyed by his name. 

“I’m actually-” He was cut off by a sharp kick to the shin, coughing slightly to stifle a curse, and turned to Roman expectantly. The glare out of the corner of his eyes was something Janus wasn’t anticipating, same with the almost imperceivable shake of his head. The message was clear. Forcing a small smile on his face, he turned back to the parents, who were still wholly focused on him. “Yeah, it’s weird for sure.” 

Usually, lies slipped off his tongue with no hesitation. He had to learn to survive, growing up as he had. But this one felt wrong, and so utterly bizarre, that it seemed to burn the roof of his mouth. If that’s what it took though, and he was very sure that Roman’s cutting him off had been to prevent outing Remus, he could take that.

The rest of the meal was filled with small talk between him and the parents, in which he learned that he wasn’t all too far from his own house, where Remus would be waking up. Even so, he didn’t recognize the neighborhood he was in. It was definitely nicer than from where he lived, though, and he doubted that Remus would know where he was either. Poor guy. 

As soon as it seemed socially accepted to leave the table, he did so, loading his dishes into the washer and dashing upstairs. It was only nine in the morning and he was exhausted, dropping onto the bed and noticing the little glow in the dark dinosaurs on the ceiling for the first time. Rather, the remains of glow in the dark dinosaurs. Remus must have taken scissors to them, separating the heads and attaching them to different bodies. He was specifically entranced by a T-Rex with a Pterodactyl head when Remus’ mother’s words flooded back into his mind, and he remembered that he should probably try to get into contact with Remus. One look at the phone on the nightstand, though, and he was getting up with a groan and padding down the hallway. 

It wasn’t hard to distinguish Roman’s room from the other doors; it was the only one with his headshot taped to the front with a star under it, his name written in bold letters across it like a Hollywood star. Janus rolled his eyes and knocked on it, walking in at Roman’s call.

“Can I use your phone?”

“Why?” Roman gave him a hard side eye from where he was splayed across his bed, a script in his hands that he was most likely trying to memorize. 

“I want to call Remus. And unless you know the password to his phone, I can’t get on it.”

“Ah. In full honesty, I don’t even want to know what the cretin has for a password.” With no further convincing, he handed Janus his unlocked phone and went back to scanning the papers, quietly muttering lines to himself while giving Janus the occasion glance. 

He typed in his own number and held the phone to his ear.

“Hello?”

“It’s odd hearing my own voice through the phone,” were Janus’ first words to his soulmate. The voice on the other line, his voice, gasped. 

“Oh shit! Ooooh shit! I would have called, but I couldn’t remember my own number!”

“That’s Remus for you.”

“Stop eavesdropping,” Janus snarled, taking a step away.

“If it’s loud enough to hear, is it really eavesdropping?”

Janus lowered the volume of the phone in response, flipping Roman off. “Hi, Remus, I presume.”

“I see you’ve met Roman. Pain in the ass, huh?”

“You could say that.”

“Okay, first things first. You’re hella hot.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Second, where am I?”

Janus chuckled, which sounded odd coming from vocal chords he wasn’t used to. “About twenty minutes away from your house. Did you want to meet somewhere to switch back?”

“Fuck yes. I want my teeth back.”

“Your-” Janus ran his tongue along his teeth, noticing for the first time that they felt different than what he was used to. The general shape, the curve, it was all new, and odd, and suddenly it was all he could think about. “Why the hell did you have to say that?”

Remus snickered, “Whoopsies.”

“How about Edison’s Bakery, on Westland? It’s pretty much in the middle.”

Roman gave him a thumbs up, mouthing ‘good choice’, at the same time as Remus almost squealed in glee. Apparently, he liked the place. 

“I’ll take that as a yes. In half an hour?”

“Yessss.”

“Before you hang up, what’s your phone password?” He physically recoiled at the response, earning a snort from Roman. “I’m not typing that.”

“That’s the only way you’re getting into my phone.”

“Hold on, how did you get into mine?” Remus only chuckled, and the line went dead. Janus sighed and tossed Roman his phone back, hitting him squarely in the chest. “Not much of a conversationalist, is he?”

“Remus abides to the laws of social constructs about as well as he abides to the laws of nature. That is to say, not at all.” 

“What should I wear? When I go to meet him?”

Roman looked taken aback. It made him scowl in embarrassment, rolling his eyes at the other’s face. 

“I don’t know what Remus likes to wear, dumbass. Don’t get a big head.”

“Uh, the ripped grey jeans with the patch on the thigh and Green Day shirt are his favorite. He usually wears something meshy underneath, but-”

“I’m not wearing mesh.”

“Figured.”

Like all of Remus’ clothing, Janus learned very quickly, the Green Day shirt was also full of holes. Whether his closet had been raided by moths, or it was just his aesthetic, he didn’t know. He could see why mesh would go well under it, but there was no way he would stoop to that level, so he threw on the jean vest he’d first seen and went back to Roman’s room to get approved. 

Deciding against seeing the parents again (Janus didn’t understand his instinctual hatred for them, but it was strong), he scaled the drainpipe outside Remus’ window and used his soulmate’s phone for directions to the cafe (despite the disgust he felt at typing in the password), since he still didn’t know the exact directions from this strange neighbourhood.  After deciphering the bus map, he hopped on the next one to arrive, grateful that he’d found enough spare change in Remus’ horribly unorganized wallet for bus fare. 

Surprisingly, he wasn’t nervous by the time he got to the cafe. He’d have thought his nerves would have eaten at him already, telling him to just turn around and live as Remus for the rest of his life, but they were surprisingly calm. There was just something about meeting a soulmate that didn’t mess with him. They were soulmates; they were kind of supposed to be perfect for each other. That’s the whole point. 

It didn’t take long for him to spot himself in the almost empty bakery, propped up against the large window in a way he would never stand, tracing the patterns on the ceiling with his eyes. Janus sidled up to him- himself? The concept was enough to make his head spin- and, ignoring the slightly Inception-esque nausea of looking at his own body, smirked.

“You’re getting fingerprints all over the glass.”

Remus spun to him, grinning widely, and without further adieu, grabbed his hand. Janus’ vision tunneled before going completely black. A sound like an intense air rush overwhelmed him despite the fact that there was no wind, his ears popped almost painfully, and his mouth went completely dry, but when he opened his eyes again, he was staring back at Remus. Actually Remus. In his own body and everything.

“Oh, my teeth, how I missed you,” The taller crooned, making a show of running his tongue across the outside of his teeth.

“You’re odd.” Never before had Janus been so happy to hear his voice.

“That I am,” Remus said with too wide a grin, tilting his head to the counter. “I waited for you.”

“Glad you had the decency.”

“C’mon, Jay,” He tightened his grip on Janus’ hand, who was surprisingly okay with the nickname (despite having punched people for using it before), “I love their energy drinks.”

“Their what?” Janus had been going here since he was a little kid, and he knew for a fact they didn’t have energy drinks. The overtired barista heard him though, shooting him a look of pure disdain.

“That’s what he calls it. We like to call it the Abomination unto God. I don’t know how his heart doesn’t give out from it. One pump of every flavor, five shots of espresso, top it off with black coffee.”

“Is that legal?” Janus asked incredulously.

“Technically, I just ask for how many espresso shots they can fit in a cup. She was the one to limit it to five.”

“He asked a trainee on their first day working. They filled the whole cup with espresso.”

“I was vibrating.” Remus said dreamily, as if the memory was particularly fond. Despite Janus’ protests, Remus ordered his monstrosity of a drink, pouring at least three sugar packets into the cup to his rising horror, and sat down happily. It was almost enough to make him not want his coffee anymore, watching his soulmate take a long glug of the sludge in his cup.

“So, Janus,” He said when he finally put the half empty cup back onto the table, “How did you find my family?”

Somehow, Janus could sense the underlying question, taking a sip before responding. “They’re fine. Your parents rub me the wrong way, so to speak, and Roman’s a bit of a prick, but they’re fine.” He watched as Remus tossed his cup back again, fiddling with the sleeve on his cup, “I didn’t out you, by the way.”

That was enough to dampen the mood, Remus suddenly looking sullen as he stared at his hands. He blinked rapidly, taking a shaky breath before responding with a quiet thank you.

“They think I’m a girl. So that sucks.”

“They’re homophobic as shit.”

“I figured that out. Is Roman-”

“Gay as they come.”

Janus swirled his drink in his cup, watching the coffee stain the edges. “What will happen if they find out?”

“I don’t want to think about that. Getting disowned, at best.”

They both went silent, almost in solidarity. What could you say to that?

“Do you live alone?” Remus asked out of the blue, drinking more and having the audacity to chew the sugar from the bottom of the cup. 

“My mom’s out of town for work right now.”

“Dad?”

“Never knew him.”

“Shit.”

“That about sums it up.” The two of them chuckled. 

“So…” Remus started, finishing his concoction and throwing the cup into the garbage can by the sugar station, startling the barista. “We’re soulmates.”

“What led you to that conclusion?” He deadpanned, watching Remus as he took a slow sip of his coffee. 

“Hardy har har.”

“Yes, we’re soulmates,” Janus agreed, “Must we make it complicated?”

“Eh,” The other said with a shrug, “Ride with the tide, see where it goes?”

“Works for me.” As Janus finished off the last of his coffee, he could see Remus’ hands had started to shake violently on the table, and could feel his leg bouncing up a storm underneath it.

“C’mon, get up,” Janus laughed, pulling Remus to his (somewhat unsteady) feet, “Let’s go to the park and get your energy out. Hopefully I can get you home before you crash.”

“Aww, you do care.” Remus cooed, laying his head on Janus’ shoulder as they left the shop.

“I believe that’s the point, dumbass. Now, I’ll race you to the park. Three, two, one, go!”

Remus took off at a full caffeine-induced sprint to the park just down the street as Janus continued his leisurely pace, laughing the further Remus got without realizing he wasn’t following. What had he gotten himself into?

Nothing he didn’t want, that was for sure.

[charincharge]

Cruel Summer, Epilogue

cruel summer masterlist

AN: I swore to you I would have this posted before I moved, and I DID (I leave in 11 hours for my cross country drive). Sorry this took forever, I pretty much wrote... a 10k word sequel.

It seems that fate enjoys playing cosmic jokes on Rowan Whitethorn when it comes to the first day of summer.

He and Aelin were supposed to take off for Terrasen yesterday, in order to make it to opening day at the park. Then, after closing, he was going to take Aelin down to the water, beneath the docks, where they’d kissed for the first time. It was going to be perfect. Just the two of them, reunited by the water, watching the sun dip below the horizon, ready for a new summer of memories – this time to be made together. But today was a piece of shit, and everything had gone to shambles. With the app formally launching this week, Rowan’s office was in crunch mode. He tried to escape, but was held back with last minute bugs to fix. He sent Aelin off, telling her he’d meet her there as soon as he was freed from work. But before he knew it, yesterday turned into noon today. And somehow noon turned into five. And then to six. At seven, Rowan finally put his foot down and insisted he would answer any questions from the road. He’d be working remotely all summer anyway. He’d dictate code for them over the phone, if they needed. And they had. His front dash rings with an incoming call from Aelin as he speeds along the interstate, praying to the gods he doesn’t get pulled over. Although with the way his day is going, he wouldn’t be surprised. He sighs loudly in greeting.

“That bad, huh?” Aelin’s sleepy voice comes through the speakers. It’s already midnight, and he’s sure she’s about to fall asleep any second.

“I’ve had about six calls with Darrow,” Rowan sighs. He doesn’t really mind – he loves his job, and loves being part of this team. But, his boss’s perfectionist tendencies have him working long after the clock stops. “I’m so tired,” he complains. “Oh no,” Aelin coddles him. “How far away are you?” Rowan glances at his navigation. “Three hours out. If I don’t hit any more snags.” Aelin chuckles softly. “Yeah, you didn’t forget anything else important, did you?” Rowan groans, thinking of his absolute incompetence as a human. Maybe if he’d been less flustered about rushing  out of work and heading  to Terrasen, he wouldn’t have made this insane mistake. Nearly an hour on the road, Rowan realized he’d forgotten the most important item he needed this summer. Unconsciously, Rowan pats at his pants and finds the lump in his pocket easily. He swallows thickly. His entire plan would have been ruined without that tiny box. Unable to tell her what he really went back for, he lied and told Aelin he’d forgotten his wallet. She seemed to believe him, but he was now running two hours behind. He picks up his pace even more. “I miss you,” he sighs, and he can hear the crinkling of Aelin’s starchy sheets beneath her head as she rolls to her side. “You’ll have me soon enough,” she laughs. “I wish I could have you right now,” he whines, and he can hear the small hitch in Aelin’s breath before she replies. “Oh yeah? And what would you do to me?” Her voice is low and breathy, and he can’t help but groan her name in frustration. He’s been working his ass off prepping for this app launch. And with Aelin taking classes and studying for boards on top of teaching, they’ve both been far too tired to do anything but curl up in bed and sleep. Two exhausted ships passing in the night. Two exhausted, and clearly horny, ships. Rowan swears as arousal courses through his strained muscles. “Should I pull over?” he asks.

If Aelin wants help getting off through the phone, he’s not not participating. Rowan looks ahead to see when the next exit is. He’ll need to find somewhere dark and secluded fast. But Aelin hesitates, and he can practically see her flushed cheeks and wild eyes as she chews on her bottom lip as she debates her answer. “No,” she finally replies, resigned. “Just. Drive fast.” Rowan taps the accelerator a little harder, pushing his new car another few miles above the speed limit. “On it.” “Rowan?” She breathes softly into the receiver. “I don’t care how late it is, wake me up when you get here.” “Yes ma’am,” he laughs. “Love you,” she mumbles sleepily. Rowan blessedly doesn’t get pulled over, and somehow he makes up an entire hour, pulling up the long driveway to Ashryver Estate just after 2am. He turns the headlights off quickly, hoping he didn’t wake anyone. The house looks as imposing as always, its wide balconies and oversized windows glowing under the outdoor lights. But Rowan can’t help but think how different his life is from a single year ago. For one, he and Aelin will be sleeping in her room together, with the complete awareness and approval of her parents. Rowan assumed it would be weird for them to be in the house, so they rented a place of their own, but Rhoe and Evalin insisted they spend at least their first night with them. At least. He supposes when he’s been living with their daughter since last Yulemas and asked for her father’s approval of their marriage a few days later, it can’t be that weird. But still, Rowan’s excited to have their own place. Albeit. A much smaller. Less expensive place.

A large yawn rips its way from Rowan’s mouth, and he decides to leave his bag in the bag seat. He’ll get it in the morning. For now, he just wants to take off his work clothes and get into bed with Aelin.

But of course, nothing about today is easy. Rowan lifts the front mat, expecting the key beneath, but it’s missing. He checks his phone to see if Aelin told him they moved it elsewhere. But no. It’s supposed to be there for him. He reaches under a potted plant just to make sure. But still. No key. He jiggles the doorknob, hoping against all hopes that in this small beach town maybe they left the door unlocked for him. But it remains unmovable. Shit. The gods truly are against him. Rowan flicks his cellphone light on, searching the small path that leads to the backyard. Thorns from the overgrown rose bushes scrape his arms, and he hisses as one catches his skin. Fuck this day. Once he makes it safely to the back patio, he attempts the sliding door, but of course, it is locked, too. Rowan glances at the rose trellis, leading up to the second floor balcony he knows so well. It’s been a while since he climbed it, but he thinks he can. He grasps at the holds above his head and pulls himself up, one foothold at a time. As he launches himself over the railing and onto the balcony, he prays to every god he knows that Aelin has left her window unlocked. It doesn’t budge.

Crouched uncomfortably, Rowan lifts his tender knuckles and knocks against the glass of the large window. He watches as Fleetfoot lifts her head, wondering where the knocking is coming from. She spots Rowan and thumps her tail against Aelin’s fluffy comforter, but doesn’t bark or come to greet him. She’s not exactly the best guard dog.

Rowan knocks again, this time a little louder, and he watches as Aelin sleepily rouses from her slumber. He knocks a third time, and Aelin looks around, confused, obviously thinking that he’d woken her from inside the room. He waves from his crouch as she finally locates him on the other side of the glass.

She pads barefoot across the room and unlatches the window, which finally swings open easily.

“Feeling nostalgic?” she asks, her eyes squinting with unreleased laughter.

“Ha ha.” Aelin is the only one laughing as she helps Rowan through the window, but he can’t help but smile at the way her arms circle his waist and pull him towards the bed at the center of the room. “Where’d the front door key go?”

“Oh no, I forgot to put it back? I must have been more tired than I thought…”

He nods, and her arms squeeze his waist tighter, apologizing with her touch. A shiver runs up Rowan’s spine as her warm hands push the hem of his shirt up his back.

“If you’re too tired,” Rowan begins, but his words are muffled by Aelin tugging his shirt up and over his head. “This can wait until tomorrow…” Her fingers splay across his bare chest, and her lips brush against his shoulder, her eyes dark with want as she insists.

“We’ll sleep in tomorrow,” she insists, tilting her chin up towards his.

Rowan lowers his head to hers, and she hums happily as his mouth caresses hers. He doesn’t have to be asked twice. He lets Aelin lead the way, crawling onto the bed on top of her. Aelin’s hands immediately go for his belt buckle, and he helps her, kicking off his pants one leg at a time as he pushes her nightgown over her head.

Clothes scatter across Aelin’s bedroom floor as the pair climb under the covers. Fleetfoot dodges his flying briefs with a loud huff and slinks under the bed, causing both Aelin and Rowan to laugh. But they aren’t distracted by the dog’s antics for very long. Within seconds, the pair is wrapped up in each other, finally after so long, relishing in the feel of being skin to skin. Rowan’s hands skim up her thighs, and he kisses every inch of her neck and shoulders he can reach. He has every intention of taking his time and worshipping her body, something they haven’t had the privilege of doing in weeks, but Aelin has other thoughts in mind.

She guides his hand between her legs, showing him how much she wants him, moisture dripping onto his fingers before he’s barely even touched her.

“Please, Rowan,” she moans, and Rowan chuckles into her cheek, whispering into her ear with a quiet. “Bossy.”

“You like it,” she says, smirking softly.

He does. He loves when she takes charge. But he doesn’t let it happen for very long. Before she can finish her sentence, Rowan lines himself up with her and slides into her with a deep thrust.

Aelin gasps and wraps her legs around him, digging her heels into his ass as he sits back on his heels and grasps her hips. He’s overwhelmed, as he always is when he first enters Aelin. Warmth spreads through his body as he adjusts their position and pace, lifting her hips off  the mattress to meet him as he kneels in front of her. He loves her this way, splayed out for him, her hair a tangled, golden mess haloed around her head. She breathes heavily with each torturously slow movement of his hips. She bites down on her lip, but releases a too loud, breathy moan regardless.

Rowan shushes her through his chuckles, loving that even after a year, this hasn’t remotely gotten old.

“C’mere.” She reaches out for him, and Rowan is helpless before her commands. He lowers her hips and leans down to kiss her. Fingers tug at his hair, keeping him pressed against her face. Even when their kiss breaks, they’re content to just breathe into each other’s mouths as he moves inside her slowly and deliberately, savoring each moment.

Rowan increases his pace, feeling them both on the brink, Aelin’s nails digging into his back, his lips at her neck – when the doorbell rings.

They both freeze. Rowan stills his hips, and Aelin’s gaze swings to the door.

“Was that our house?” she asks, eyes wide. The doorbell is followed by several knocks.

“Uh, I think so,” Rowan says, glancing at the clock, which now reads 3 am. Who the hell could that be? Fleetfoot pokes her nose out from under the bed and slinks towards the door to sniff under it.

“Do you think if we stay quiet they’ll go away?” Aelin whimpers, grasping his neck tighter. “I’m so close,” she half cries-half laughs. Rowan joins her.

“Me too,” he says, letting his head drop onto her shoulder.

“Just finish quickly,” she says, tilting her hips toward his, and Rowan chuckles into her skin.

Rowan refuses to move as he hears two pairs of footsteps coming down from the third floor. Aelin’s parents.

They listen as the front door opens, but are unable to pick out any words. The door closes just as fast, and he can feel Aelin relax and push her hips against his as her parents make their way back upstairs. He finally gives in and starts moving again, much to both their relief.

The relief is short-lived, though.

“Um, Aelin?” Evalin calls from the other side of the door, accompanied with a quick knock, and Rowan has the good sense to roll off to the other side of the bed, grumbling the entire way, upset to be cockblocked as Aelin tosses on her nightgown. Whatever was happening is officially over now. Rowan briefly wonders if it’s a cursed day as Aelin swings her door open.

“Is everything okay?” she asks her mom breathlessly, and Rowan tucks himself further under the blanket, willing his still prominent erection to subside quickly.

Suddenly, two cops emerge, and Aelin crosses her arms over her chest, backing up into the darkness of her room. Rowan would like to throw a robe over her, too, by the way the two cops are looking at her, but he can’t exactly go anywhere right now.

“Sorry to disturb you, ma’am,” the shorter of the two begins. “But we were notified by your neighbor of a breaking and entering? We wanted your permission to sweep your room for any intruders.”

Rowan groans loudly and lets his head fall back against the pillow as Aelin snorts.

“I’m so sorry to waste your time, officers,” Aelin says politely. “But, uh, there’s been a huge misunderstanding.”

Her eyes flick to Rowan’s, who is still under the covers, but based on the state of the pair of them, there’s little question as to what they’ve been up to.

“Let me guess?” the other cop snickers. “Intruder?”

Rowan waves, and Rhoe and Evalin smile as they wave back.

“Rowan, when did you get in?” Rhoe asks, failing to hide his smile behind his hand.

But Rowan’s fairly certain this day could not get any worse. He’s still erect beneath the covers, and completely naked, and his nearly naked girlfriend is being interrogated by the cops and her parents. He wants to die.

“I forgot to leave the key out for my boyfriend,” Aelin explains. “So, he climbed up the trellis into my room.”

The cops apologize for the late-night intrusion, and Rhoe finally laughs fully. “As you were…”

They close the door with a soft click, and Rowan groans, falling back onto the pillow as Rhoe and Evalin head back upstairs, taking Fleetfoot with them.  

“Intruder,” Aelin laughs as she closes her bedroom door. “The Cortlands would never have called the cops.”

Rowan perks up at that. “Oh yeah, who’d they sell to?”

“I don’t kno-oww!” Aelin hisses in pain and clutches at her foot. “Ow, what the hell did I just step on?” she cries again, stumbling her way over to the light switch. “Was that your belt buckle? Shit, that hurt.”

Rowan squints as the bright bulb illuminates the room, and his heart stops as he sees what Aelin holds in her hand. Aelin stares with wonder at the tiny box that he’s managed to keep from her since he purchased it last December. Six months living together, and she never suspected once. In his haste to disrobe earlier, it must have fallen out of his pocket. He forgot it was even in there. He’s a fucking idiot.

Aelin’s jaw drops as she looks from the box up to Rowan, her blue gold eyes swimming with awe and confusion.

“Rowan?”

Her voice sounds so small and timid and so un-Aelin like, and Rowan’s stomach drops. Does she not want this?

“I swear to the gods, it was going to be perfect,” Rowan says, scrubbing at his face with his hand. He watches as Aelin’s eyes grow impossibly wider. He closes his eyes and imagines the scene he’d wanted so badly. ”I had it all planned out for today. But, then today happened.” He He sighs loudly.” Six months of waiting… to find your ring on the fucking floor.”

He hates the spike of insecurity and flagellation that fills his brain, ready to convince him he’s useless. He’s gotten better about his negative self-talk over the last year, but sometimes old habits are hard to break.

“Six months?” she asks, fiddling with the box in her fingers.

“Yulemas shopping,” Rowan chuckles to himself, but there’s no humor to be found there.

“Rowan.” She repeats his name, nothing more than a whisper from the other side of the room.

“I used to feel like the lesser party in this relationship. And I swear, I don’t feel like that anymore. But, the way this has happened, I’m feeling pretty useless. That, or this proposal is cursed.”

“Can I see it?” she whispers, and Rowan suddenly feels even more nervous, if that were even possible.

He nods, feeling the strain in his throat as it bobs uncomfortably, his throat suddenly dry.

She cracks the box open, and Aelin breathes in sharply as she picks up the emerald, flanked by two smaller diamonds, and laid into a platinum band. It had cost two full months of his paycheck, but he’d seen it and immediately known it was meant to sit on Aelin’s finger for the rest of her life.

She approaches the bed slowly, and his body warms as her awed expression turns into a brilliant smile. He loves when she looks at him like that. Like he’s special. She straddles his lap, bringing one knee to either side of his waist and wraps one arm around his neck, the other cradling the box in her hand still.

Her lips press against this over and over again as she whispers between kisses, “Yes, yes, yes, yes.”

Rowan’s heart pumping wildly as he pulls back to look at her.

“Yeah?” he asks, and she replies quickly.

“Oh yeah.” She grins and kisses him again. “And if you want to do your plan tomorrow, I am all yours,” she says, and Rowan’s heart feels like it’s going to explode of joy.

He slides the ring onto her finger. It looks just as perfect there as he’d imagined, and he can’t resist perssing the newly jeweled hand against his thrumming heartbeat.

“I’ll give it back in the morning,” she says, a small tear trickling down her cheek.

She can’t stop smiling, and neither can Rowan, both of them mumbling “I love you,” over and over as Aelin climbs into his lap to finish what they started earlier in the evening.

~*~

Rowan wakes before Aelin, which is highly unusual, but she did say she was tired. He glances at the glittering gems on her finger and kisses it softly. He can’t believe this beautiful creature is actually going to marry him.

“Mmm,” she smiles back in her sleep, and he can’t resist pressing his lips against hers.

As he distracts her with sleepy kisses, he slides the ring off her finger, and she pouts immediately. “I’ll give it back soon, I promise,” he says softly, and her smile returns. The ring finds its way back into the small velvet box without any problems, and Rowan pulls on clothes from the floor and pockets it immediately. “Coffee?” he whispers into her ear, and Aelin nods, eyes still closed.

Rowan heads downstairs and grabs his bag from his car, and decides to shower before bringing Aelin coffee. After working all day, then sitting in a car for nine hours, and then engaging in sexual activity for most of the night, he could really use a shower. Plus, maybe he can tempt Aelin into joining him, he thinks.

Upstairs, though, Aelin is already in the bathroom and looking worse for wear. Dark circles rim her undereye, and her cheeks looks pale and sweaty. She flushes the toilet and walks slowly to the sink to rinse out her mouth.

Rowan drops his bag from his shoulder and rushes to her. “Aelin? Are you okay?”

She shakes her head and shrugs. “I think you might be right about the cursed proposal. I’m so sorry,” she apologizes, splashing water onto her ashen face. “A few of my students had this stomach thing, and I thought I escaped it, but…”

She stops and breathe slowly through her nose and out through her mouth. Her eyes flick to Rowan’s in the mirror, looking disappointed and upset.

“Hey, hey,” he reassures her, pushing back her damp hair from her clammy forehead. “You never have to apologize for getting sick.”

Aelin had also caught the flu from one of her students in January, a terrible cold in March, and strep throat that turned into an ear infection in April. Rowan was extremely grateful she’d already gotten the chicken pox otherwise their May would have been really upsetting. It turns out Aelin’s immune system kind of sucks.

“Good thing is it’s only a twenty-four-hour bug, so we can just push until tomorrow?” she says hopefully.

Rowan kisses the top of her head. “Get back in bed. We’ll worry about that when you’re feeling better.”

Aelin grumbles all the way back to bed, but she must be feeling extremely sick if she followed his directions so quickly. Aelin is one of those suffer in silence such people, who likes to think that if she doesn’t acknowledge not feeling well then she won’t be sick. As if she ignores her problems they’ll cease to exist. Rowan has to admit, when he discovered that he was fairly relieved. He’d thought it only applied to him. Oh how wrong he was. If the fact that she climbs into bed without any hesitation is any indication, she currently feels like shit.

“Who gets sick during the summer?” she complains to herself, but when Rowan comes out of the shower, she’s already fast asleep again.

He wanders downstairs to grab coffee for himself and is only slightly surprised to see the whole family there.

“Uncle Rowan!” Gavin cheers, throwing himself around Rowan’s thighs.

“Hey, bud, you’re getting really tall,” Rowan laughs. “And strong,” he continues, realizing he’s unable to walk with the little boy grasping his legs.

“Where’s Auntie Ae?” Gavin asks, his blue eyes wide with wonder and curiosity. Rowan recognizes that look. It’s the look of a man obsessed with Aelin Ashryver. He doesn’t particularly blame the child.

“She’s still sleeping,” Rowan answers the little boy, who immediately looks disappointed.

“Someone wore her out?” Lysandra jests, welcoming Rowan with a warm hug and a nudge to his ribs.

“Very funny.” Rowan says, though his tone lacks any humor.

Aedion snorts. “Come on, it’s a little funny. And a great story. Locked out, and then interrupted by the cops while banging?”

Rhoe chokes on his coffee. “I don’t think I used the word banging.”

“No, you used the words ‘being intimate’ which is somehow much grosser,” Aedion laughs again, taking a long sip of his coffee.

Rowan’s cheeks are burning, he can feel the flames go all the way up to his ears. This is why he’s grateful he and Aelin have their own rental they can check into tomorrow.

He ignores the conversation at the table and instead lets them know Aelin isn’t feeling well.

“So she’s not coming to the park today?” Gavin pouts.

“I don’t think so, but maybe tomorrow?”

Appeased, Gavin rushes off to play with Fleetfoot..

Rowan wishes the family a good time at the park and heads back upstairs, wanting to check in on his sick girlfriend. Wait, no. Not girlfriend. Fiancée. He grins at that.

Upstairs, he climbs into bed next to Aelin’s slumbering form. She immediately curls into his thigh, and his mouth twitches upward when she sighs his name in her sleep. His fingers run through her hair, and he basks in a moment of silent happiness. In sickness and in health, right? While Aelin sleeps, Rowan opens his laptop to see about a hundred emails waiting for him. He answers them dutifully as he sips his coffee. His work only halts when Aelin launches herself out of bed and stumbles to the bathroom, still half asleep. He itches to help her, but he’s learned from previous experience that Aelin does not like to be coddled when she’s sick. Instead, he opens her windows to let some fresh air in. The room fills quickly with the crisp scent of salty sea air traveling on a breeze. The shower turns on in the bathroom, and Rowan returns to his never-ending emails while he waits for her to emerge.  A cloud of steam billows around her skin as she opens the door. Her skin has regained some color, a pink flush to her cheeks and her eyes look brighter. “Napping helped?” “How long was I out for?” she asks, her voice hoarse as she curls back up next to him. He glances at his watch. “Only a few hours. How are you feeling?” “Like crap,” she laughs. “You should go downstairs. You do not want to catch this.” “I don’t know,” Rowan says, stroking her cheek. “I wouldn’t mind staying in bed for a few days.” Aelin shivers and nuzzles further into his side. “You’ll mind it when you’re hunched over the toilet.” She sniffs the air and a greyish pallor takes over her complexion. “If nothing else, can you take your coffee cup downstairs. The smell of anything food-related is...” “Not good?” he asks, and as Aelin goes to shake her head, she rushes into the bathroom again and slams the door shut. As loathe as he is to leave her, Aelin is right. He can’t afford to get sick right now. So, Rowan takes his laptop out to the patio with Fleetfoot keep him company as he finishes his work. When Aelin finally makes her way downstairs at the end of the day, she looks significantly better. The whole family sits at the dinner table, and their heads swivel to the disheveled blonde, still wearing her pajamas. “You look like you’re feeling better.” Aelin nods in affirmation and Rowan breathes a sigh of relief that it seems the worst has passed. “Can I make you toast, Fireheart?” Evalin asks her daughter, who wrinkles her nose at the large dinner spread on the table. “No, I need something cold for my throat.” She pats at her neck. “Do we have any ice cream?” Rhoe laughs. “Yeah, she’s feeling better.” “Freezer,” Evalin directs her, and Aelin makes herself a bowl of mint ice cream quickly before taking a seat on Rowan’s knee. Rowan looks at Aelin’s empty ring finger as she eats. He can’t wait for tomorrow. Can’t wait to make it official. ~*~ “Twenty-four-hour bug, my ass,” Aelin frowns as she exits the bathroom the next morning. She’d been so convinced it’d passed when her ice cream stayed down last night. Apparently not. “This is the worst.”

Rowan pats the fluffy comforter next to him, and Aelin crawls on top, cuddling into his side like a cat. It’s been a long time since she felt this sick before. And she had the flu earlier this year. Stupid music students and their germy fingers!

“Rowan,” she whispers, wondering if she should admit what she’s about to admit. “I’m starting to believe in the curse.”

Rowan snorts too loudly, taking her comment as a joke, but she’s not so sure. Three days in a row his plans have gone to shit, and Aelin is starting to feel antsy to have that stunning ring on her finger again. She missed its weight as soon as he pulled it off yesterday, and she’s ready for it to be returned to its rightful owner. Her.

As if he senses her agitation, Rowan drags his fingers through her hair, scratching her scalp and playing with the strands like he knows she likes. Her eyes flutter close, and within a few minutes, she’s asleep again. Aelin wakes again in the late afternoon feeling groggy but with an even stomach. She takes a quick shower and brushes her teeth and heads downstairs, where Rowan is lounging out on the back patio. His computer glasses are perched on his nose as his fingers type a mile a minute, probably fixing some bug that Darrow couldn’t reprogram. His brows are furrowed, and he bites his lip – his concentrating face.

He finally looks up as she approaches the doorway, and she watches as his wrinkled forehead smooths out, his serious face replaced by one of delight. It makes her heart beat faster.

“You must be feeling a lot better than this morning if you’re looking at me like that,” Rowan says, closing his computer and standing to greet her. His arms welcome her with a warm embrace, and she inhales deeply as he wraps his arms around her, tugging her close.

“Is everyone at the park?” she asks, lifting an eyebrow suggestively, and she can’t help but smile as Rowan’s eyes darken.

“What happened to being concerned about me getting sick?” he asks as his fingers trail patterns against the thin fabric of her tank top.

“Who said we had to fuck face-to-face?” Aelin says, tugging his shirt with her hands. “Just bend me over the kitchen island.”

“Aelin,” he groans, pressing his face into the top of her head. She can feel his chest vibrate with laughter against hers, letting her know that her idea is  being rejected. But if the other things moving against her are any indication, he’s not completely disinterested.

“As tempting as that sounds,” he begins, and by the look on his face, she knows he’s been thoroughly tempted, “I was kind of hoping not to be interrupted the next time we do it. If you’re really feeling better, though, maybe we should move into our own place tonight?”  

Aelin grins excitedly. As much as she loves Ashryver Estate, she’s thrilled she and Rowan will have their own place this summer. Where they can be as loud as they want. And desecrate every single surface.

It takes them barely thirty minutes to pack, and Aelin calls her parents to let them know they won’t be there when they return. Aelin assures her parents she feels better, that the bug has run its course, and apologizes for sneaking out while they’re gone.

She and Rowan pull up to the small brown house nearly simultaneously. It’s not on the beach, about a fifteen-minute drive from Aelin’s parents, and about a ten-minute walk to Lysandra and Aedion’s, on a small residential street dotted with lush green trees and bright verdant lawns. They drop their bags in the foyer and immediately wander around the place, taking in the cozy, beach town vibes.

The backyard is perfect, and Rowan opens the screened in porch door for Fleetfoot to run around the wide gated lawn. At the center is a long, narrow pool, which glistens a bright turquoise. Aelin can’t wait to spend her summer lounging in it.

As they make their way back into the house, they finally make their way to the kitchen. Its immaculate marble counters are dotted with decorative bowls of lemons, and Aelin notices Rowan nearly drooling at the Viking double ovens. But what has her attention is right in the middle of the room.

Rowan follows her gaze and his green eyes darken, a shade of forest that she knows means trouble for her. The pair practically race to the kitchen island, and they make good on Aelin’s earlier suggestion, well into the evening.

~*~

Aelin wakes in the middle of the night, gasping for air, feeling overheated in her own skin. She must have had a nightmare, but she can’t remember what about. She looks down at a dreaming Rowan for comfort, his eyelashes twitching against his tanned cheeks, and feels her heart swell in her chest. She loves this man so much. She can’t believe she’s going to be his wife. Years ago, when Chaol had thrown around the word “marriage,” she’d flinched. Literally. Flinched. Now, she aches to let everyone know that this man is going to be her husband.

She leans down and kisses his bare shoulder. “Rowan,” she whispers against his skin, and he stirs slightly. “Rowan, wake up.”

He startles awake, bolting upright faster than he has any right to do, and looks her over seriously. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she says, and he exhales quickly.

“Why am I waking up then?” he asks, looking at the clock. It’s barely past 4 am.

“I know you wanted to do your perfect proposal, but…” Rowan’s face pales in the moonlight, and Aelin reaches out to reassure him quickly. “I don’t need a perfect proposal. I knew when we left here last summer that you were it for me. You’re kind and funny, and you understand my terrible humor without making me feel stupid about it.” Rowan smiles at that one, making her stomach flutter. “You’re ambitious and proud, but you have never asked me to change what I want or to make myself bigger or smaller. You just love … me.” He swallows and nods. He does. She knows he does. Which is why, she barrels on, confessing what she’s been ruminating over the last two days in bed.

“I want to marry you so much,” she breathes, her voice cracking with the weight of her emotion. “And even though I don’t know what your plans were, I know this wasn’t even close to what you imagined. But,” she pauses and bites at the skin on her lip as Rowan leans closer. “I can’t imagine us doing anything traditionally, can you?” He shakes his head and rubs his thumb against her bottom lip, unhooking it from her tooth. She smiles at the gesture. “I loved my accidental proposal,” she says more boldly, “And I want to tell everyone I know immediately. I want to have a celebratory dinner with all our friends, and I…” Her voice cracks again as a rogue tear falls from her eye. “…want my ring back.”

“Right now?” Rowan asks, unshed tears in his eyes, and Aelin nods readily. As Rowan crosses the room to the dresser and pulls the small velvet box from his sock, Aelin’s heart starts pounding again. This is really happening.

He shakes his head slightly as he opens the box and pulls out the ring. It gleams under the soft glow of the moon, casting emerald shadows across their white duvet.

“You know, that was a hell of a proposal, Ms. Ashryver.” He smirks, and she cocks her eyebrow in return.

“So what’s your answer, Mr. Whitethorn?”

He pretends to look pensive for a second, before sliding the ring back onto her finger. It fits perfectly. “Yes, I think I’d like to marry you,” he says, leaning close to her lips. “And what about you? You’ll marry me, too?”

“I already said yes,” she whispers. The tension hums between them, both their hearts pounding with the electric current of their promises. “Yes,” she answers again, and Rowan pulls her beneath the blankets with him.

~*~

“You know your initials are going to spell AAW, now, which I find absolutely adorable,” Lysandra says as she takes Aelin’s splayed hand in her grasp. Her eyes narrow in on the new piece of jewelry, examining it like a hawk.

“It’s stunning, Ae,” she concludes, and Aelin can’t help but peer over Lysandra’s shoulder to grin at the man of the hour, taking beers out of their fridge.

“I know,” Aelin says, her cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so much at her family and friends’ enthusiasm over their “very expected” nuptials, as Manon put it.

The doorbell rings, and Aelin attempts to extract herself from the small circle of women who have huddled around her hand to “oo” and “ah,” at her ring, but Rowan is faster. He welcomes her parents into their abode with a wide smile. Evalin and Rhoe drop off giant catering tins filled with food, prepared by Emrys, on the kitchen island.

Rowan throws Aelin a knowing smirk, and her cheeks pink remembering the thorough way they debased that particular part of the house last night.  

Lysandra chuckles softly and whispers in her ear, “I hope you Cloroxed that.”

Aelin’s pink cheeks darken, heating wildly at Lysandra’s knowing smile. She must look shocked, because Lys simply shakes her head and shrugs. “How do you think we got two kids? Please. Aedion and I used to screw on every surface in—”

“Okay!”  Aelin holds up her hand. “I don’t need to know.” She gags, feeling slightly queasy at the image of her brother and his wife going at it. “But yes, we invested in Clorox wipes this summer.”

“Smart girl,” she says, squeezing Aelin’s shoulder lightly.

Aelin rolls her eyes and heads to the island to help her fiancé unpack the food and welcome her parents. They greet her with hugs and kisses, and Evalin can’t stop smiling. Neither can Aelin, though. She’s getting married. To Rowan. She’s never felt this kind of happiness.

When Aelin goes to lift the foil from the food, Rowan pushes her away. “Go, sit. I’ll make you a taco.”

The food smells heavenly. Emrys has outdone himself, Aelin thinks to herself as she takes in the spread of multiple taco fillings and accoutrements. And in a separate Tupperware, just for her, is her favorite potato salad, labeled with her name and the word, “Congratulations!” underneath. She thinks she might cry.

“Grilled adobo chicken with corn salsa, guac, and cheese?” she asks, and Rowan nods.

“Chips?” he asks, and she shakes her head, instead pointing to her special Tupperware. He winks at her and shoos her away, back to entertain everyone as he calls out, “Food’s ready!” A line forms across the island, and Rowan oversees food distribution as Aelin wanders back out to heir friends. She knows what he’s doing. By staying by the food, Rowan doesn’t have to socialize or make small talk. Things he loathes. She doesn’t call him out, letting him retreat to his comfort place of the kitchen as she makes her way out to the screened in porch where most everyone is sitting.

“So, when do we get proposal details?” Elide asks, sipping at her beer. Lorcan frowns, commenting that proposals are private, and Aelin briefly wonders if those two are next in line to walk down the aisle.

She smiles as slides onto the chaise next to an outstretched Dorian, who’s already working on his third beer, and tells a very vague and abridged version of their proposal.

Manon laughs every step of the way, relishing in the ridiculousness of their premature proposal. “And the ring traveled across the room from his pocket, hm? How aggressively was he kicking them off?”

“Manon, my family is here,” Aelin hisses.

“Your family knows what you two were up to in your bedroom all last summer,” Aedion laughs loudly, “And apparently this summer,” he continues, pulling Lysandra into his lap, as the room bursts into laughter at Aelin’s expense.

“I hate you all,” Aelin groans as Rowan walks into the porch, both their plates in hand.

“I hope not,” he says as he hands off the plate to Aelin. “Otherwise, the rest of our lives are going to be pretty awkward…”

“You know I love you,” Aelin says, batting her eyelashes. “You bring me food.”

Rowan rolls his eyes and takes a large bite of his taco. Aelin does the same and nearly moans in satisfaction. It’s so spicy and so good. She really hopes it stays down. The only food she’s had in the last two days has been ice cream and toast.

As she devours her plate, she listens to Elide and Lorcan’s summer plans, nodding and hmming in all the right places. She saved her potato salad for last, because you should always save the best for last, and excitedly plops a piece into her mouth. She chews twice before she spits it back out onto the plate. The whole room silences.

“Sorry,” Aelin apologizes, covering the chewed potato with a napkin. “I think the mayo was off.”

Rowan takes a bite of it himself and cocks his head to the side. “It tastes fine to me. Are you sure you’re not still sick?” he asks, leaning over to feel her forehead. It flushes under his touch, but not because she’s sick. She’s been fine for over twenty-four-hours.

“I’m fine,” Aelin whines. “But that mayo was not.”

Manon opens her mouth and closes it. And then opens it again. “Maybe you’re pregnant.”

“No…” Rowan and Aelin reply quickly at the same time, before glancing at each other, and then back at the room filled with their friends and family. Their expressions range from amused to suspicious to horrified to confused, and suddenly Aelin thinks she’s going to be ill all over again.

“That’s not possible,” Aelin comments confidently. There’s no way. She went back on the pill as soon as she went home last summer. Although now that she’s thinking about it, she’s not a hundred percent sure she actually bled during her last placebo pill week. But she must have, right?

“Aelin?” Rowan asks, his voice unreasonably high. He leans forward and places his hand on her knee, and she looks down at it, placing her hand atop it, before looking back at him.

“I think we should go to the pharmacy.”

“Oh, I’m coming too!” Elide announces, downing the rest of her beer.

Aelin rushes out of the house without saying goodbye to anyone. She assumes Rowan makes some excuse for their departure, but she doesn’t have time to delay. She needs to know and needs to know now. How the hell could this have happened? There must be some other explanation. Her knuckles are white on the steering wheel as Rowan hops into the passenger seat, and Elide slides into the back.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, and Aelin nods tersely.

“Uh huh,” she replies, but she’s not entirely sure how she feels.

Inside the pharmacy, Aelin pulls three different brands of pregnancy tests. Rowan stands awkwardly beside her, arms crossed, perusing the back of each.

“I don’t know,” he says calmly, but his wild green eyes betray his panic. “Is there a best brand?”

Aelin doesn’t know. She decides to get all three.

As they wait in the check-out line, Elide giggles loudly.

“Aw man,” she places a hand each on Rowan and Aelin. “Remember the last time I ran into you here? You were buying condoms.” Her eyes flick to the pregnancy tests. “Why’d you stop using them?”

“Elide!” Aelin hisses, and Elide grimaces at her tone. Rowan pays quickly and swipes the bag of the counter and returns to the car. She looks at Rowan, his eyes simmering with worry as he looks her over. “The mayo was off… wasn’t it?” she asks again, and Rowan reaches for her hand, taking it in his larger one and shakes his head.  

Aelin speeds home, ignoring everyone as she makes her way into the guest bathroom and pees on every single stick. She’s taking no chances. She sets a three-minute timer on her phone, and slinks against the bathroom door, falling until her butt hits the cold tile of the floor. This was absolutely not the engagement celebration she had anticipated.

Through the door, she can hear Rowan lean against the other side. He must be sitting, too. His head thumps against the wood and she breathes in deeply, eyes screwed closed.  

“I love you,” he murmurs against the door, sliding his fingertips through the crack beneath it. Aelin brushes her own against his, and she releases some of the panic she’s been holding in her shoulders at his calming touch.

She stays like that, until her alarm goes off. And she can feel that tension creeping back into her body, which is suddenly frozen with fear.

“I can’t look,” she says.

“You have to look,” Rowan insists through the door.

“I don’t want to,” she groans. “And I don’t have to.” She pauses. “You can.”

She can hear his sharp exhale. “Do you want me to?”

“Please,” she says quietly, and she can hear him stand. The doorknob turns and he pushes the door open. Aelin shifts slightly so he can get through, and he walks straight to the counter top where the tests are laid out, getting her pee all over one of the fancy hand towels.

Aelin closes her eyes tightly, thinking that if she closes her eyes, she won’t have to see the result. But of course. She forgot about her ears. Rowan’s breath stays steady as he turns and crouches in front of her.

“You’re pregnant,” he whispers. Aelin’s heart thuds. She knew she was. As soon as Manon said the word, she knew.

“It was those stupid antibiotics when I had strep,” Aelin grumbles, putting her face into her hands. “I knew there was a chance, and I didn’t say anything. Why didn’t I say anything?” This was so not the plan. Her feelings are all over the place. “Rowan, what are we going to do?”

She opens her eyes, shocked to see how close Rowan is to her. He cradles her face in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheeks gently as he probes into her with a loving gaze. It takes her aback for a second. The way he looks at her. Gods, she loves him so much. She blinks and is surprised when a tear rolls down her cheek. He wipes it away and kisses it. The small gesture is enough to solidify how Aelin feels.

“I know this isn’t the right time for us. It’s so soon, and you’re in the middle of your schooling, and I’m going to be looking for a new app to work on soon, so… if you don’t a baby right now…” He swallows, his voice pained as he continues forward, and Aelin can’t gasp soon enough. “I’ll support you no matter what—”

“No!” Aelin shakes her head.

“No?” Rowan asks, quirking his head to the side, and Aelin finally lets her tears spill over her cheeks.

“No.” She shakes her head, giving him a watery smile. “This is our baby. I want this.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and she nods again, blinking rapidly. She can’t blink the tears away fast enough, so Rowan kisses them away, pressing his lips against her eyes and her cheeks until her crying abates.

The pair kissing in the bathroom don’t even notice when their party departs, too busy being wrapped up in one another.

~*~

Rowan is woken up in the middle of the night, again, by his fiancée. He loves her more than anything, but he’d really enjoy a full night of sleep one of these nights. Preferably without her yelling at him.

“Rowan!” she growls, rousing him from his pleasant dreams, and hoisting him up. Her face is red with anger, her eyes glittering in the moonlight, looking ready to attack.

“Hmm?”

“I can’t believe you knocked me up! Now we have to have a shotgun wedding!” she yells, louder than she has any right to in the middle of the night.

“Can it really be considered a shotgun wedding if I proposed to you before I knew you were pregnant?” Rowan asks, trying to pull her back down, and immediately regrets it, based on Aelin’s increased anger.

She frowns. “I don’t want to be fat at my wedding.”

Rowan laughs sweetly and pulls Aelin into his arms. “You won’t be fat. You’ll be pregnant.”

Aelin pushes herself out of his grasp and glares. Ok. Wrong thing to say, clearly. “I refuse to be fat at my wedding,” she growls, flopping back onto her pillow. “But if we wait until after we have the baby for me to get my body back… that could be two years from now.” She rolls over and faces him. “I don’t want to wait two years.”

Rowan scoots down until he’s facing her, his legs tangled with her bare ones beneath the covers. “First of all, you’re beautiful, no matter what.” Aelin scoffs, clearly not believing his truth. “But, we don’t have to wait.” He can’t help but kiss her surprised face. “Let’s get married this summer. Here. It’s where I’d want to do it anyway.”

He can see a hundred thoughts racing through Aelin’s blue eyes as she contemplates his proposal.

“Plan a wedding in two months? My mom is going to die.”

“If it’s too much…”

“It’s not too much,” Aelin replies, snuggling closer to him. He runs his hand up the back of her tank top, feeling her skin warm the pads of his fingers. She presses closer to him, her curves against his chest, and he dips his head down to kiss her.

“It’ll still be a shotgun wedding,” Rowan says through kisses. “The people who don’t already know will surely figure it out when the baby comes six months later.”

“As long as I look good in photos, I don’t care.”

“Good to know motherhood won’t affect your vanity,” Rowan chuckles, and Aelin gasps.

“Rowan, we’re getting married, and we’re going to have a baby.”

Rowan shakes his head. “I know. What have we done?”

~*~

If Rowan thought last summer was a whirlwind, it’s nothing compared to a summer with a pregnant, last minute wedding-planning Aelin. As soon as they told her parents the plan, Aelin was off to the races. They’ve decided to forgo everything traditional, much to Evalin’s distress. The only thing Aelin has insisted upon is Rowan not seeing her wedding dress beforehand, which he has no problem with.

In fact, he’s been fairly uninvolved in the wedding plans, leaving the decisions to Aelin. He found out very quickly that she had strong opinions about flowers and colors and food. The only thing he’s insisted upon participating in is the guest list – which includes only twenty of their closest friends and family.  He knows that number isn’t even a tenth of the amount of people who attended Aedion and Lysandra’s wedding. Aelin is expected to have a high society wedding, but she and Rowan are defying expectations left and right with their lives. But somehow, it doesn’t seem to matter. They stopped asking for approval from anyone the second they got together, and everyone seems to be okay with that.

Rowan smirks as Aelin sighs loudly from the back seat of his car. Her arms are crossed against her chest, pushing up her breasts to make an even larger than usual swell of cleavage. Despite her insecurities, pregnancy looks incredible on Aelin, and Rowan can’t help if his eyes flick to her chest more often these days.

“Stop checking out my rack, Rowan,” Aelin frowns, and he laughs boisterously, tipping his head back in amusement at his grumpy fiancée. “It’s not funny. Look at the road.”

Rowan stares harder. “We’re at a stoplight.”

Aelin’s lips curl into the most adorable pout, and her blue eyes widen.

“You know, you could have driven up here with me,” Rowan says of the empty passenger seat next to him, and Aelin shakes her head.

“No, changing levels is the one thing that makes me queasy,” she explains.

“Which is why you should have driven up here,” Rowan says. “My mom is going to insist that the pregnant girl sit in the front.”

“Adults sit in the front,” Aelin snaps, and Rowan smiles.

“I hate to break it to you, but you are an adult.”

Aelin frowns again. “You know what I mean.”

They drive in silence for a few more seconds until the tension becomes so thick that Rowan has to ask. “Are you nervous about meeting my mom?”

It’s all the prompting Aelin needs to explode. “Yes!” she shouts, throwing her arms up in defeat. “Of course I’m nervous! I’ve stolen her son away from her. You didn’t even go back for Yulemas,” she prattles nervously. Rowan watches as she emphasizes with her hands, a sure sign of Aelin’s stress. It’s completely unfounded, though.

“Aelin, you don’t understand,”  Rowan throws her what he hopes is a reassuring smile over his shoulder. “You made Dora’s dreams come true by dating me, much less marrying me and incubating our child. She loves you.”

Aelin barks out a laugh. “Incubating?”

Rowan shrugs. “What would you call it?”

“Incubating works,” she replies with a snort, and Rowan can tell he’s had some luck in calming her nerves.

By the time they arrive at the airport, Dora is already waiting on the curb with her bag in her hand. She’s come to spend the whole wedding week, spending time with Rowan and meeting her in-laws before they make it official. Rowan’s been playing it cool, but he is incredibly excited to see his mom.

He hops out of the car and welcomes her with a big hug as soon as he can. Aelin nervously exits the car and waves hello. He watches as Dora’s eyes go wide as she extricates herself from Rowan and throws her arms around Aelin.

“You are even more stunning in person,” Dora says, causing a soft blush to appear on Aelin’s cheeks. “How are you feeling? Sick at all? How are the cravings? How are your studies? Are you teaching at all this summer?”

“Uhhh…”

It’s so rare that Aelin is flustered, that is gives Rowan some sort of sick pleasure that it’s Dora Whitethorn, who makes her nervous. Rowan can’t help but smile as he watches his two favorite women meet each other. As he expected, Dora goes straight for the back seat when it’s time to return to the car, and it’s a fight Aelin loses quickly.

“Told you so,” Rowan says, winking at a disgruntled Aelin, as she buckles herself in.

“Has your son always been so self-righteous?” Aelin asks the white-haired woman making herself comfortable in the back of Rowan’s roomy SUV.

Dora’s green eyes twinkle as she hums. “No, but he’s always been a pain in my ass.”

“Mom!” Rowan can hear her snickering behind him, and Aelin’s eyes widen in joy. There’s nothing she loves more than teasing him. He forgot that these two share that interest.

“It’s true, baby,” Dora laughs. “You’re constantly making things much harder than they should be. Aelin should know what she’s getting herself into.”

Rowan frowns as Aelin laughs harder. “If I get left at the altar I’m blaming you.”

Aelin snorts loudly and puts her hand on her stomach. “As if I’d raise this chicken on my own. No offense, Dora, but I seems really hard. I don’t know how you did it. And so well.”

“Sometimes you get a good egg,” Dora says with a small smile just for Aelin. “Now, tell me all the gossip about everyone who’s going to be at this wedding. I just flew ten hours and am ready to be entertained.”

~*~

“Stop fidgeting,” Manon hisses, swatting Rowan’s hands away from his carefully brushed hair.

“I can’t,” Rowan admits, tugging nervously at a lock of his hair. He’d meant to get a haircut before the big day, but clearly that hadn’t happened, and now his hair is just a smidge too long, falling into his eyes ever so slightly.

Manon glares, her heavily lined eyes throwing him a look that could kill. And he knows she means it. Rowan stands still, taking a deep breath and attempting to center himself as Manon rolls up the sleeves of his light blue blazer.

“How are you this nervous?” Manon asks, quirking her red-painted lips into an amused half-smile. “Dorian is officiating.”

“Don’t remind me,” Rowan groans. How he said yes to that idea, he’ll never know. Aelin must have been in the midst of performing some incredible sexual act for him to agree to that detail. But it seemed too important to her say no. Plus, it’s not like there was anyone else he’d rather do it. He was just… nervous. About what Dorian might potentially say in front of their guests. After all. He’d been there since the very beginning.

“He loves you both,” Manon says with a sigh. “And I do too. Although if you ever use it against me I’ll deny forever.”

“You love Aelin?” Rowan asks, and he watches as his best friend rolls her eyes and hip checks Rowan. She adjusts the thin straps of her navy jumpsuit, smoothing out the silky fabric to assure her minor assault hasn’t messed up her wedding look.

“I just told you I’d deny it.” She places her hands on her hips, examining Rowan up and down, before adjusting the small white pocket square in his blazer. “There. Perfect.” She says with a pat to his chest. “Ready?” she asks, and Rowan nods.

Rowan leads Manon through the gates of Ashryver Playland and lets his worries ease away. He’s not sure why he was ever nervous. He’s about to marry the most amazing woman in the world.

Beside the pier, in the location where Rowan had intended to ask Aelin to marry him, is a small walkway leading out to a platform on the beach. Ten chairs flank either side, filled with smiling, familiar faces. Dorian waits at the center of the platform, beneath a stunning arch of twisting greenery dotted with pale flowers.

As the sun starts to descend, a dark golden haze casts itself over the sand. He watches as it turns to orange and then pink beneath his shadow. And then he knows it’s time.

Rowan smiles as Gavin leads Fleefoot down the aisle, spreading pale flower petals across the platform with his other hand and then takes a seat next to his family, who congratulates him with high fives and cheers. Fleetfoot happily thumps her tail as Rowan gives her a smile, too.

But his attention is diverted immediately as everyone stands to welcome Aelin. His heart thumps wildly in his chest, hammering against his ribs as he spots her face. Aelin lifts her chin up toward the colorful tie-dye sky and takes a deep breath. As she takes her first step onto the platform, she smiles the most beautiful smile Rowan’s ever seen. He’s sure his face mirrors hers, and he can’t help but laugh as she scrunches up her nose slightly and sticks her tongue out at him. Gods, she’s perfect.

His eyes never leave her grinning face. When he takes her hands in his, when she stands here facing him, all the way until they say, “I do.” He’s not sure what he was ever worried about, because he barely even hears Dorian’s officiating, too busy being swept up in the turquoise-gold of Aelin’s eyes.

When Dorian announces, “You may kiss the bride,” Rowan doesn’t think twice before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. If she’s surprised by the exuberance of his kiss, Aelin doesn’t show it. She matches his fervor with equal force, soft lips parting to let their tongues explore each other’s mouths a little too thoroughly for public consumption.

“Now everyone knows how Aelin got pregnant,” Dorian snorts quietly behind him, and Aelin smiles and laughs into Rowan’s mouth.

Seeing his opportunity, Dorian interrupts them before they can go in for another kiss. “I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

Rowan lifts Aelin, scooping her from under her knees, and cradles her against his chest as he bounds off the platform.

“Where are you going?” Dorian yells as Aelin squeals loudly. But Rowan doesn’t care.

He finds the pole he was looking for immediately. Below the pier. Where he first kissed Aelin. He wants to kiss her there as his wife for the first time.

“Rowan!” she gasps as he presses her against the wooden beam, his mouth finding hers quickly. He can feel her soft fingers in his hair, tugging him against her, reciprocating his kiss, making his pulse race just like that very first time.

He pulls away panting, and rests his forehead against hers.

“I love you so much,” she whispers. “But if you ruin my dress before we get a picture together, I’ll murder you.”

Rowan laughs and lets her down, and they both kick off their shoes and sink their toes into the sand. He finally lets his eyes trail down her body, taking in her flowing white dress and grins.

“I’m going to be honest, I just looked at the dress for the first time.”

She smacks his shoulder, and he recoils, grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips. “You’re perfect.”

She tilts her head to the side, letting her loose waves fall over her shoulder. “You’re a sap.”

“A sap you love,” he retorts quickly.

“Gods help us,” Aelin laughs, reaching up to kiss him again. But Rowan has other thoughts in mind. He trails his lips down her neck to her chest, loving the way the neckline of her dress emphasizes it.

“Oy!” Dorian cackles, “Let’s keep it PG. There’s people who want to eat dinner soon.”

Rowan flicks him off. “We’ll meet you there.”

But Aelin grabs his hand and pulls him to follow Dorian.

Their small reception is only a ten minute walk away in the Ashryvers’ back patio. Aelin made the playlist herself, and they covered the pool with a temporary dance floor. Emrys made the dinner – no mayo in anything and sparkling cider to last well into the night.

Rowan walks hand in hand with his bride across the sand, walking the familiar stretch from Playland to the Ashryver Estate. Only this time, everything is different. Nothing is a secret. And they both belong in a world of their own creation – one they’re going to start getting ready to bring a life into.

~*~

“What are you thinking?” Aelin says from her perch on his lap, well into the evening. She runs her fingers through his hair, now disheveled from hours of dancing and too many sips of champagne.

“I’m thinking that I can’t wait until next summer,” Rowan says, cracking a smile at Aelin. She rubs her thumb against his cheek and presses her lips to his.

“The last two summers weren’t crazy enough for you?” she asks. “You want to know what it’s going to be like with an infant in the mix?”

Rowan pales. “Oh my god, Aelin, we’re going to have a baby.”

“Did you forget?” she says, holding back a laugh.

He shakes his head. “No. I just…” He pauses. “What are we going to do with a baby at Playland?”

Aelin laughs, leaning her tired head against his shoulder. “Well, we’ll obviously take them on the Firecoaster, first and foremost. Then the High Flyer. Oh, and the Bumper Cars.”

Rowan can feel his lips turning down into a frown as he imagines his child on the dangerous rides.

“Rowan, I’m kidding,” she assures him, and he squeezes her side, causing her to let out a sharp cackle. “We’ll figure it out,” she finally says quietly. “We always do.”

She tightens her hand around his, and the pair sit together, wrapped up in each other, long after their party has ended and their friends have gone home, telling each other stories of summers to come and memories yet to be made.

~*~

I have loved writing this fic so much, and I don’t truly want to say goodbye. Which is why if you ever want a futuretake with these two, I will be more than happy to take prompts. ALSO, in case you hadn’t seen, I started a new Rowaelin fic called I Don’t Want To Wait (linked the masterlist).

Per usual, if you’d like to be added to my TOG taglist, please message me HERE.

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[itsallmightbitch]

Stitches (Part Three)

Lol, did my last post say 12,000 words? I meant 15,000. Shit son, apparently All Might smut is way too much fun to write.

Pairing: Villain!All Might x Reader

Rating: Um... what’s higher than Explicit? Super Explicit?

Warnings: Oh fuck, like... all the smut. All of it. Described in ALL of the detail. 

Word Count: 15,740. Jesus.

Summary: After finding out that All Might protected you from the sick affections of a dangerous villain, there’s nothing left to do but to give in to all those pesky feelings.

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

His back was to you when you entered, his wide shoulders taking up a hell of a lot of room in your usually spacious kitchen. He didn’t turn to look at you, though you knew he’d heard your footsteps. You bit your lip and stared at him for a moment before striding forwards and, much like a person who put their hand in a tiger’s cage, you laid your own in the centre of his back.

 To your surprise, he didn’t turn around and bite it off. No- instead, his body reacted to your touch, muscles tightening and his breath leaving him in a shaky exhale.

 “Hey, look I’m sorry. I should have left it-”

 “He was gonna goddamn rape you, kitten,” All Might bit out abruptly and your hand froze against him, like all the air had been sucked out of the room and not in a good way. He still wasn’t looking at you and you didn’t know why. Why he was so dismissive of the feelings that he clearly had.

 For- for you.

 You swallowed.

 “How you even got involved with that filthy cunt, I’ll never know,” he growled, shaking his head and you heard a creaking groan as he squeezed down on your counter tops- white knuckled. You didn’t dare attempt to save them for fear it might be you next.

 Suddenly, there was a light breeze and he was on you- his hand fisted in the front of your top and you were being lifted into the air.

 “Hey!” You squeaked pathetically as your feet left the ground, one hand wrapping over the top of his wrist.

You weren’t airborne for long though, as he twirled around and set you ass first on the counter he’d been seconds from destroying. Then he was standing between your thighs, arms enclosing you and his palms flat against the wall behind your head.

 The thick, corded muscles in his biceps tightened under his skin, bulging.

 Hot damn, that horny little voice in your head purred.

 Your body sang out at the contact, thighs coming up tight around his hips without even being told to.

 He wasn’t finished talking, even though the electricity crackling in the air was becoming impossible to ignore. Your gaze dipped to his lips and the corner of them quirked, attempting not to react to the way you let him do as he pleased and even seemed to like it.

 “Shigaraki called me. Told me that word was getting around that Scissorhands had his eye on another girl. Couldn’t stop talking about this pretty little thing that he was gonna have his way with. Absolutely enamoured with her…” he said and his voice turned harsh. “And everyone knows when he gets that way, some helpless man or woman is gonna end up dead.”

 You flinched when he spat out the word in disgust and his eyes softened just the slightest at the fear that flitted over your face. You didn’t need him to spell it out for you.  

 Suddenly, All Might’s fingers came out of nowhere, trailing along your cheek and then down your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

 He touched you like he was touching glass and you leaned into it, desperate for more than he was currently giving.

 He didn’t give affection like that freely. You took what you could, nuzzling your cheek against his palm. His thumb trailed a line over your cheekbone and he took a moment to study you before he continued.

 Your body was on fire.

 A girl could get used to being looked at like that.

 “I asked him why the hell I should give a damn about anything that fuckin’ creep was up to. None of my business right?” he snorted, the irony not lost on him seeing as it had turned into his business incredibly quickly. “I’m not the cops, sweetheart, understand?” he ducked his head to look you in the eye and you nodded firmly. “And, I’m no goddamn hero either.”

 Oh, you begged to differ- despite the fact that you would never, ever voice that out loud.

 His hand trailed back up to your face and he tugged you closer, all feral intensity and heat. Your head swam and your arms came up to lock around his neck. His face was inches from yours and you longed to pull him in to your lips but he wasn’t finished talking and there would be no moving him until he was done.

 “But then,” he laughed darkly, almost incredulously. “Shigaraki said your fuckin’ name.”

 Ice crept down your spine at the timbre of his voice and that primal instinct to run in the face of danger was screaming out at you in the back of your mind. But you stayed put, trapped in the iron cage of his arms with your legs folded around his hips. The rational part of you knew, just… knew, that he wasn’t going to lose his temper.

 The tension in the room was leading somewhere far different.

 “Your name,” he said and to your surprise, a shudder ran along his spine. You could do nothing but stare at him in awe.

 “I didn’t want you to bother you with it-” you choked out but got no further when he slammed his lips to yours, bruising and hard. You gasped into the kiss and his tongue invaded your mouth with force, like he’d been desperate to get back to you since you’d stopped kissing him earlier.

 He kissed you for a long time, taking in every little gasp and moan like a man starved. Like he was making sure that you were really here.

 You could barely move under the weight of him pressing against you but instead of feeling claustrophobic, it was almost comforting. He was hot and hard between your legs and you felt an overwhelming eagerness to get this ride moving.

 All Might tore his mouth away suddenly, breathing hard and you whined, trying to follow his lips.

 But instead of ravishing you then and there like you’d hoped that he would, he leaned in to your face- eyes hard like diamond and his words a low, animalistic snarl that sent a wave of both fear and arousal pulsing between your legs.

 “I ripped his fucking head off for even thinking about you like that,” he said, eyes boring hard into yours.

 Your heart hammered in your chest, attempting to break free of your ribcage.

 With an air of finality to the statement, his hands on your waist hoisted your pliant body into his arms and you clung to him, your face buried against his neck. You didn’t need to be able to see to know he was carrying you to your bedroom.

 You laid hot, open mouthed kisses along his throat and rolled your body against his.

 The fingers against your back pressed harder and you were just a little proud at how much he seemed to enjoy your touch. The most powerful man in Japan- hell, in the world- sighed under your fingertips like he desired nothing more but to skip the walk to the bedroom and just fuck you right there on the carpet in the hallway.

 But he stumbled inside eventually, kicking your door shut behind him so you wouldn’t be watched by small, curious eyes.

 You were tossed inelegantly into the centre of your bed, breathless and already missing the heat of him.

 “All Might…” you said, voice thick in your throat as he stood at the edge of the bed. His chest was heaving, eyes wild as they traced a line along your body. You suddenly felt a little intimidated by the sheer size of him. “Um, you do remember your promise right?”

 The question came out a lot softer than you meant it to. Almost shyly. His eyes snapped to yours, lip curling.

 He didn’t answer, so you elaborated.

 “Ya know, not to break your doctor?”

 You finished with a squeak when one knee pressed experimentally onto the mattress and it creaked in protest, dipping under the weight of all that muscle. It didn’t deter him though. He added the other and you both paused for a second.

 “Or her mattress,” you grinned cheekily, lopsided smile causing his eyebrow to raise. You didn’t know if he liked you teasing him or if he was just relieved that he wasn’t going to have to fuck you on the floor, but the tension in his frame abated a little and the smirk he returned was almost a smile of his own.

 Yours widened and you crooked your finger at him.

 Swiftly, he grabbed your hips and away you went again- pulled between his legs with no effort and honestly, you should be annoyed over how he was just moving you around like his own personal doll- but the look he was giving you from above was enough for you to keep your opinions to yourself.

 “Oh kitten, don’t you worry. Daddy doesn’t forget his promises,” he cooed, his massive hand splaying over your stomach. Your brain basically shorted out and you forgot basic math and your fifth birthday party.

 It took you a moment to choke out a response.

 “Oh come on, you big pervert! You know it weirds me out when you say shit like that,” you protested weakly, unable to really concentrate on telling lies when his hand slid up to cup your breast over your shirt. You choked out a moan instead, all soft and pathetic and he laughed at you.

 Of course he knew you were bullshitting him. He’d felt the way your stomach muscles had quivered and tightened when he’d called himself ‘daddy’.

 Fuck, when had that even become a kink!?

 “You gonna keep telling yourself that?” he asked, and his forefinger and thumb pinched your straining nipple and tugged. It was just hard enough to straddle the line of pleasure and pain but it still made your inner muscles clench down on nothing in desperation.

 You had a feeling that pain and pleasure went hand in hand with him. Maybe not on purpose, but anyone that big was just prone to it.

 “Hmm, did I ever mention that you have great tits?” he asked airily, like he wasn’t currently cupping a handful of one and interrupting your thoughts. His other hand was stroking a line down your side, almost soothingly but to you it was anything but.

 His touch was lighting a fire in your belly and you really wanted him to quit being all handsy with you and get on with it.

 “All the bloody time,” you said pointedly, your fingers finding purchase on his wrist but not to push his hand away. Instead you urged him to palm your breast harder and he pushed them together and up, breathing a low happy sound in the back of his throat.

 He stared at you like he was about to worship you and hell, what did you even do with that information aside from lay back and write the words ‘ENTER’ and ‘HERE’ on your thighs?

 Where did you put that permanent marker, anyway?

 Coherent thought went bye bye again when he moved his hands away to push your flimsy t-shirt up. You gladly obliged. You sort of owed him seeing as you’d been ogling him for most of the night at this point. It was only fair.

 He let out an appreciative sigh at the sight of your breasts spilling out of your bra and it only took him a second to undo it- thank you, inventor of the front clasp, you thought happily. His groan was almost a growl as he indulged himself, sliding both hands along your ribcage until he was cupping handfuls of your tits and sweeping his thumbs over your taut nipples.

 “Well, Daddy has a new favourite thing,” he said, then leered at your surprised expression. “What?”

 “You always told me you were an ass man,” you pointed out, as though he wasn’t fondling your breasts and looking at them like he was about to write a fucking sonnet.

 “Times change, baby girl,” he laughed lewdly, tongue running over his canines. “Oh yeah,” he eyed them as though sizing them up. “I’m definitely gonna fuck them.” He pushed them together again and the sensation was sending sparks bouncing across your skin.

 “Oh, it’s just what every woman wants to hear,” you countered, your damsel in distress voice coming out as you dramatically whipped a hand to your forehead and pretended to swoon. He grinned, showing off his perfect teeth. Dipping over you, he kissed you like the goddamn world was about to end.

 All deep and languid, letting you wrap yourself around him and press your bare breasts against his chest. He nudged you and moved until his hips rested between your thighs instead of vice versa, pushing forward and grinding the length of his cock against you.

 Oh now that was a feeling you were familiar with. How you’d missed it.

 You were breathless when you broke away, arms tight around his neck and when he went to pull back, you refused to let him go. You didn’t want him to stop kissing you like he was about to go to war and not come back. Like a starving man.

 “Fuck sake, you even turn me on when you’re being a sarcastic little bitch,” he growled breathlessly, then laved a hot line across your jaw and settled on your pulse point. “S’ a shame you want me to go all soft and slow on you, kitten,” he said, distaste evident in his voice. “I’d love the chance to fuck that attitude of yours right out of you.”

 Who said he wouldn’t get the chance eventually, you thought, amused by the way his big talk earlier had come back to bite him in the ass.

 Ooh, biting…

 Biting could be involved.

 You flashed him a smug grin of your own, nipping along his jaw and knowing full well that he could pull away and take you however he damn well pleased. But the important thing was… he didn’t. He stayed encased in your arms, indulging your more romantic side- despite complaining about it the entire time. It was time to bring out the big guns.

 “Hmm, I thought Daddy didn’t break his promises?” you sighed, all breathy and aroused and despite the slight weirdness you felt saying that, it was well worth it for the look on his face. His eyes widened and his jaw went slack, staring at you as though you’d just asked him to shake hands with Endeavor. You really loved it when you managed to catch him off guard.

 It took a moment for what you said to sink in but when it did…

 “Fuck me,” he groaned and buried his face in your shoulder, biting and licking patterns that had you arching up from the bed as heat flooded through you. He planted an open mouthed kiss over a nipple, then sucked hard and your head pressed back into the covers hard, almost choking on your own breath.

 There was no doubt about it, the man had an amazing mouth and you could hardly wait to have him stare up at you from between your legs.

 If anything, it would shut him up for a few minutes.

 Nipping and sucking until you were a sensitive mess, he moved across to your neglected breast, leaving the other pink and wet from his mouth. He seemed like he was in no rush to get to main event, content to take his time on your chest. He dragged the flat of his tongue across your peak before his teeth scraped against it, tugging, teasing and drawing your hips up against him when you cried out.

 You’d always assumed that he would be a ‘taker’ not a ‘giver’. How wrong you were, you scolded yourself.

 Eventually, he became impatient too and bunched the top of your pajama pants down, signalling you to raise your hips.

 Some small, insecure part of you tensed up as he dragged the pants down your legs and off, taking your panties with them.

 You expected him to dive right back in but when had he ever done anything expected of him?

 The answer was never.

 Instead of absolutely ravishing you, he stood slightly hunched over at the foot of your bed, just drinking in the sight of you naked before him. Feeling far too exposed under his hungry gaze, you squeezed your thighs together and shot him a somewhat uncomfortable look that he chose to ignore.

 “My eyes are up here, you know,” you said, swallowing against the tide of insecurity as his heated gaze danced a slow path over your naked body. It was like he wanted to memorise every inch of you, and the intensity silenced any other sarcastic comments you were about to make.

 “M’not looking at your eyes, doll,” he snorted and then his hands reached for your closed knees. “You not gonna let me enjoy this? Huh?”

 Fingers digging into them, he pried your legs apart and you couldn’t really do much to stop him, just relenting and feeling dizzy from all the blood rushing to your head. It was a good thing you were already on your back.

 “Goddamn, kitten,” he murmured, eyes fixed between your legs. He let out a low, pleased noise as he stared at the slick arousal that had been coating the inside of your thighs ever since you’d climbed into his lap earlier.

 “This all for me?” he asked, as if he didn’t already know the answer. The asshole just wanted you to say it. He trailed his hand along the inside of your thigh, coating his thumb in your wetness and getting dangerously close to your aching pussy. You wanted to buck forward, have him touch you for the briefest of moments but you managed to get a hold of yourself before you did.

 “Yeah,” you breathed shakily as he brought his thumb to his lips and sucked on it, eyes closing briefly as though he was enraptured by the taste. “Just for you.”

 You saw his cock twitch violently against the fabric of his pants and when he was done licking his thumb clean, he went back for more. His finger trailed over your pussy ever so softly and you shivered, your hips bucking in want of more but he didn’t repeat the motion, bringing his finger to your lips instead of his.

 He observed you, amusement dancing over his face when your eyes snapped up to meet his.

 The whole thing was so intense that you barely hesitated, meeting his silent challenge and clearly surprising him- if the way his eyebrows rose suddenly was any indication. His expression quickly changed to one of satisfaction as you pulled his finger into your mouth and wrapped your tongue around it.

 The taste of your own arousal wasn’t exactly familiar but it wasn’t repulsive either and so you sucked his finger clean and just to show him that you were no pushover, you bit him playfully.

 He beamed at you, pleased by your boldness.

 “Such a good girl,” he cooed, tugging you up for another gut twisting kiss. You melted, the praise going to your head. “Gettin’ so wet for me. I knew you would.”

 “Who says I’ve been thinking about you?” you teased against his lips and then let out a laugh when he shot you an incredulous, irritated look. Hopefully you hadn’t offended him too much, you thought wickedly. As if anyone else could even hold a candle to him.

“You’re not going to huff with me are you?” you asked, nuzzling a kiss against the corner of his mouth, nose brushing his. “Because I’m pretty sure that would be a crime.”

 “What part of Number One Villain do you not understand?” he grunted. For a moment, when he didn’t move to kiss you again, you worried that you actually had annoyed him. But then-

 “Then again, I suppose I’m not that fuckin’ mean.”

 Without warning, he shoved his knee between your legs and pushed them apart again and you keened when he slid one long, thick finger inside of you. The surprise of the sudden intrusion made you jump but his other hand held you steadfastly to the mattress. He laughed at your expression, clearly enjoying taking you by surprise like that.

 The fucking asshole.

 “Now, who were you thinking about again?” he asked, voice dangerously low and your traitorous muscles fluttered and shook around his finger, your body way ahead of your brain. If this was the sweet stretch you felt with just one finger, what the hell would his cock be like?

 You tightened your grip around his neck, breathing heavily again.

 “You didn’t think to warn a girl?” you scowled at him, attempting to be annoyed even though your body was far more receptive to him. You felt your inner muscles clench again, pleased to finally have him inside.

 You assumed that he would give you a second to adjust.

 He clearly assumed differently.

 He pulled his finger out and then pushed back inside, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs along with any other complaint that you’d had to say. To your annoyance, instead of calling him a prick, you whined instead- because apparently the pleasure centre of your brain was now running the show.

 Oh well. You could chew him out later for… oh, whatever it had been that had annoyed you.

 You could feel the arousal dripping out of you, making a mess of his hand. He didn’t seem to care though, just crooking his finger instead to accentuate the little wet noises he was drawing from your body. The slip and slide of him was addictive and you pressed your hips down, needing more.

 “You gonna answer me, kitten? Or should I just stop?” he asked, slowing the thrusting motion of his hand suddenly. You managed to make a noise of protest, well aware that he wouldn’t continue until he was satisfied. This is what you got for being a smart ass.

 “You, for fuck sake! I’ve been thinking about you,” you managed to choke out and it seemed to appease him- thank God. He hummed and continued what he’d been doing, a little more self assured now than before. His eyes watched your face, drinking in the expressions you were making.

 “Christ, look at you. Soaking and needy and I haven’t even fucked you yet,” he murmured and if it was awe in his voice that you heard, you didn’t point it out for fear that he would stop again.

 Thankfully, he seemed to have no intention of it.

 Your nails dug into his back sharply when he added another finger without warning.

 “Fuck!” you rasped, your throat hoarse already from the sounds he was causing you to make. Two fingers was definitely towing the line of pain but the sweet flood of endorphins every time he slid back inside you was worth it. He scissored his fingers, widening you until it suddenly became too unbearable to handle and you reached down, pushing at his forearm to make him stop. It was all well and good preparing you but he kind of needed to slow down or there’d be nothing left to prepare.

 “Ah! Stop, stop,” you managed to choke out.

 To your relief, he paused- still inside you up to the second knuckle of his hand. You relaxed back into the bed, chest heaving and your pussy throbbing in both relief and protest.

 He raised an eyebrow at you in question, fingers still buried but unmoving.

 “Sorry,” you said, sucking in a breath. “It’s just, um- been a while.”

 Definitely not a lie. Between his erratic visits and all the work you’d been bombarded with over the past few months, you’d barely had time to get yourself off let alone find someone else to do it. Besides, there was always that pesky voice in the back of your head that whispered that no-one would ever live up to him.

 You were about to find out if that voice was right, or full of shit.

 “Trying to get you ready, kitten,” he rumbled, sweeping his thumb across your clit. You shivered, thighs tightening. “Otherwise I’ll end up hurting you for real and that might ruin our plans for later.” He sounded almost soft in that moment, concerned about your well being and your stomach swooped low in response to the concern he was displaying.

 What more could you ask for in a man, anyway? Well, murderous, villainous tendencies aside.

 It took you a moment to nod, your body more than ready to continue now with the circles he was pressing against your clit. Tight, fast little movements with the pad of his thumb that made you shiver. The knot in your stomach was winding tighter and tighter despite the mild discomfort and you knew that you would come if he continued like that.

 “I can take it. I can. Please keep going,” you mewled and your voice even sounded pathetic to you but you didn’t care.

 “Please keep going, what?” he said, his fingers starting to pump again, agonisingly slowly.

 You knew what he wanted to hear and all your reservations from earlier swiftly vanished.

 “Daddy,” you whined out, knowing full well you didn’t have the energy to deny him. You just wanted to come and you needed him to get you there. “Don’t stop, Daddy,” you begged again and his deep, feral groan of pleasure was like music to your ears.

 “You’ll be the fucking death of me, kitten,” he said, rocking his hand into you and with every thrust, he widened his fingers just a little more. He was trying his best to prepare you for the absolute monster between his legs. It would almost have been sweet of him if you weren’t currently such a mess of slick arousal and sweat because of him.

 You came with his name on your lips, muscles clamping around his fingers tightly as your body shook. It was like you’d touched a live wire, everything going taut for a few seconds before you slumped back into the sheets- breathing heavily and twitching with a wave of aftershocks.

 Oh damn, you managed to think.

 Looking up at him and seeing the look of sheer arousal on his face, you expected him to simply just gather you up and fuck the remaining energy right out of your body. You certainly didn’t have the willpower to resist as things stood.

 Jesus, it was hard enough remembering your own name.

 Instead, he pulled out of your embrace and slid his fingers out of you as well- leaving you feeling empty and sore. You made a noise that could have been a protest or that could have been relief but you doubted you could answer if asked.

 Without warning, he was gone from where he’d been hovering over you and for a moment, your orgasm fogged brain couldn’t quite comprehend the speed that he’d vanished at.

 Where the fuck had he gone?

 “Um, All Might?” you asked blearily, lifting your head to search for him- before all ability to form words left you and you gasped sharply, hips leaving the bed in a wave of overwhelming sensation. Well, at least now you knew where he was.

 A moment later he was holding your hips in his hands to stop you from bucking again and repeating the motion that had almost sent you through the roof.

 His thick, hot tongue dipped inside you before he flattened it and dragged it though your come and up, over your sensitive clit. Your eyes crossed in a very unsexy way and you were suddenly glad that he was focusing all of his attention on your throbbing pussy because this was not your best game face.

 Not that you could help it.

 You’d always wondered if he’d be good in bed. Despite those frustrated nights where you argued with him, hated him- or pretended to anyway, it had forever been in the back of your mind.

 The answer was apparently- really, fucking good.

 Your hands, which up until now had been fisted tight in the sheets below, reached out so you could bury your fingers deep in his hair, tugging hard enough to hurt. He didn’t seem to mind- the only indication that he’d even noticed was the tightening of his fingers on your soft hips.

 You were going to have fingerprints there tomorrow. Reminders of him taking what he wanted from your body.

 Reminders of his mouth, covering your clit like he was a man starved and the groan he let out vibrated through you hard enough to made you shake. He lapped at the new wetness that seeped out of you, seemingly endless, and used it- mixing with his saliva to make you slippery and soaking.

 It was a sensation that you would have squirmed at had you been in the right frame of mind.

 But right now, that coupled with the slide of his tongue and the way his nose would bump against your clit only served to turn you into a whining, sobbing mess. You hiccuped his name, breath catching when his teeth lightly grazed you. His tongue parted you again and pressed inside and the fingers you had in his hair curled again.

 How the hell could he even get that deep?

 Fuck, who cares- it felt phenomenal.

 He was gripping your ass now, feasting on you like a man starved with both finesse and a sort of frenzied eagerness- like he’d thought of having you like this before a thousand times. He didn’t seem to care about the obscene noises that your body was making and so you stopped caring about them as well. They only seemed to entice him more, like he wouldn’t be satisfied until you were loud enough for the neighbours to hear.

 Pointing his tongue he pressed it sharply upwards, catching your clit and applying the briefest of pressure- but it was enough to send a pulsing wave of pleasure through you.

 You jerked hard in his hands, fingers gripping his hair hard enough to hurt even him and you felt him grin against the inside of your thigh before he pressed a kiss there.

 More kisses followed and you swiftly realised that he was teasing you, waiting for you to ask him to continue.

 “Do that again,” you pleaded breathlessly and when you glanced down after a few moments of him not complying, you saw his usual smirk directed right back at you. That self-assured, prideful expression that you’d love to wipe off of his face. He raised himself up an inch or two on his forearms, finally letting your hips go.

 Your body sank into the sheets, exhausted but still craving the pleasure that he was currently withholding.

 “Now, I thought we’d talked about this,” he said smoothly, as though he wasn’t concerned if he continued or not. Like it didn’t even bother him. His nonchalance infuriated you to your very core. Here you were, stripped bare and exposed and he was toying with you for his own personal amusement. If only he wasn’t so damn good at it, you might have protested. “That’s not how you get me to do something, is it?”

 “Oh come on,” you groaned, pressing your head back in irritation. He was really going to make you do this again? How could he be so obsessed with hearing you talk when all he ever did was try to shut you up?

 “Too chicken. I knew it,” he taunted, nipping his teeth against your thigh. One palm smoothed up over your hip, then flattened over your stomach.

 You bit back the pleasant sigh that had threatened to slip out at the touch, stewing in a silent fury instead.

 Chicken!? You!?

 You would fucking show him who was chicken. Without warning, you sat up swiftly- almost headbutting him. You must have caught him off guard because he didn’t even try to push you back down with his hand- even though he would have had no trouble. Without even contemplating if it would piss him off or not, you gripped his chin, much like he had been doing to you all night.

 His eyes went comically wide as you brought your face close to his.

 “Do that again, Daddy. Please,” you said, in a voice you didn’t think you’d ever actually used before. Or known you could use. If he wanted you to talk dirty to him then you were going to bite the goddamn bullet and make the idiot happy.

 You didn’t actually expect it to send him into a frenzy- but hey, more orgasms for you.

 You hit the bed with a thump and suddenly, his thumbs were spreading you apart and his mouth was on you again. This was different than before though. Less languid. No more taking his time to tease the orgasm out of you. No. All Might was on a fucking mission.

 He growled against you and then rolled his tongue across your clit like you’d asked.

 Your eyes threatened to roll back.

 Maybe they did. You didn’t fucking know. You were busy focusing on the absolute animal between your thighs and trying not to pass out.

 Clearly you didn’t have a clue what you’d been asking him for. Mindlessly, you draped your legs over his shoulders- your heels digging into his back as you attempted to pull him closer. One hand fisted in the sheets as your back arched up and away from the bed, mouth slack as all reasoning and ability to form words left you.

 Someone was making noises worthy of a damn good porno and- oh. That was you.

 “All Might, please. Please, oh fuck,” you babbled mindlessly, screwing your eyes shut in some feeble attempt to keep it together. Like you could even try. You moaned, high pitched and pathetic, swivelling your hips under the constant attack of his tongue- desperate for him to bring you over the edge.

 Then, he rumbled something and you almost didn’t even hear him, considering your ears were ringing with your own gasps and you were on the very verge of coming. You almost ignored it, dismissed it… but…

 You only just registered what he’d said before he went back to flicking your clit from side to side quickly. Fuck, even your bullet didn’t move that- fast! You bucked, spasming softly and looking down at him over your breasts. You expected him to be focused on the task but his eyes watched you instead of what he was doing.

 You wondered if he was waiting for you to do as he’d just said or whether he was just watching the bounce of your tits.

 Probably both.

 But you weren’t going to pass up the chance he’d just given you. He could be called All Might, Daddy, whatever the fuck else later. Right now-

 “Toshi!” you cried, hips canting upwards from the bed as his tongue filled you again. At the sound of an age old nickname- one he hadn’t let anyone call him in years, he yanked you down hard with his massive arm slung across you to keep you still and went to fucking town.

 Blearily, you wondered just how many tongues he actually had.

 Six? Seven? Fuck-

 Said tongue curled inside you and you felt the pressure building out of nowhere, the same pressure that you could usually sense long before it happened. You didn’t even get a chance to warn him before you were coming again, for the second time in twenty minutes.

 You felt warm liquid spill from you without warning as your orgasm wrecked you and heard him grunt in what sounded like surprise. But then his mouth was back on you and he was helping you ride the wave right until the end.

 Past the end.

 The overwhelming sensation was suddenly far too much, your clit throbbing and pleading for a reprieve. You finally gasped and found the strength to push his head away, clamping your thighs together in some vain attempt to slow the pulsing. Your breathing stuttered, eyes shut tight as you attempted to come down from your high.

 Okay. Good had been a total understatement.

 When you finally managed to open your eyes again, All Might was staring you down with a dark, hungry expression on his face.

 His, um, very wet face.

 Every molecule in your body squirmed with embarrassment and you felt your face heat up before you could do anything to stop it. You probably should have warned him but, in your defence, you’d never actually done that with someone else.

 You were as surprised as him.

 “Yeah, um… sorry about that,” you muttered, gesturing to him without looking him in the eye. “I… don’t do that very often. And you know, never with someone…else,” you trailed off, clearing your throat.

 He made a noise in response and you glanced up to find him grinning, shark like and looking pleased with himself. Your embarrassment lessened a lot because he clearly hadn’t minded.

 “What are you sorry about? M’I the first guy to make you squirt doll?” he asked teasingly, his voice a delectable rumble that seemed to find it’s way right between your legs again. You clenched around nothing, abdomen quivering without your say so. How could you possibly be ready to go again!?

 His grin widened, like he was going to devour you but you answered him before he could.

 “I guess you get a gold star,” you said and relaxed backwards.

 Before you could stop yourself, you were giggling into your hands, hiding your face from him. Of course he hadn’t minded. Christ, if he wasn’t the most wanted criminal in the entire universe you would gladly drag him home to meet your folks.

 Not only was he pretty much a walking, talking sex God, but he’d coaxed two orgasms out of you with barely any effort. Coupled with the fact that he’d let you call him Toshi… Well, you might have to stop talking for a while in case you fucking proposed.

 You covered your face with your hands, still laughing as you felt him press a kiss to the inside of your knee.

 “Well shit. She’s broken,” he snorted. “I was hoping you’d hold out a little longer.”

 Scrubbing your face, you lifted your head to look at him. He was resting his chin on your stomach now, grinning at you in that teasing way he did sometimes. The one that made your heart feel funny in your chest. His hair was a mess and you reached out to smooth down the kinks you’d made.

 “Hey, once I get feeling back in my legs-” you warned, nudging his head to the side with your hand.

 “Who says I’m gonna let up for that long?”

 Now there was a promise you wanted him to keep. But for now…

 “There’s a towel in the en-suite, Romeo,” you managed to say, pointing him in the direction of your little adjoining bathroom. He glanced towards it, taking your hint.

 Suddenly, he was gone and the lack of his weight caused the bed to rise. You bounced a little, worried mildly if these springs would actually hold up under any real action. He reappeared from your en-suite, scrubbing the proffered towel over his face.

 You finally took a moment to really look over him, drinking in every little move he made. The way the muscles in his arms tightened and relaxed as he moved, slicking his hair back from his face to try and control the mess you’d been making of it.

 The steady rise and fall of his chest, no-where near as erratic and pumped up as yours was yet but hard enough to let you know that he was just as aroused. His shoulders, all broad and powerful and bloody Hell was it even hotter in here suddenly or was that just you?

 That little happy trail of blond hair that led under his tenting pants was what called to you the most though. You wanted to trace your tongue down it.

 He noticed you watching him from the corner of his eye and waggled his thick eyebrows at you when you managed to pull your eyes away.

 “What, now you’ve got me where you want me, you think you can just ogle me?” he asked, throwing the towel at your head. You laughed, catching it out of the air but it quickly fell from your fingers when he started undoing the knot that currently held his pants up. “Tit for tat, sweetheart?” he asked, knowing full well what your answer was.

 The smooth material found no purchase on him once the knot was undone and they slid down, only catching very briefly on the head of his cock.

 Then there was nothing in the way. No pants. No towel. Just him, in all of his thick, veiny glory.

 Holy mother of God.

 You almost drooled out loud. Was that thing even fucking legal?

 You’d felt him earlier sure and even seen the outline of him enough to have a rough guess as to what he looked like but neither of those things had adequately prepared you for this.

 He postured and preened under your slack jawed appreciation, before striding forward towards the bed. The monster bobbed as he walked as if to fucking say hello- like he was the third person in the room and you felt yourself get all swollen and gooey at the mere thought of licking him from base to tip.

 Yep. That thought had most definitely climbed to number one on your to do list.

 You managed to swing yourself up onto your knees as he approached, holding your hand out to stop him climbing onto the bed like he intended. He quirked an eyebrow at you, cocking his head to one side and surveying your expression for any signs that you might be about to pull the plug and leave him with a serious case of blue balls.

 Like you would.

 “You’re not getting on this bed until I’ve sucked your cock,” you said as confidently as you could. It seemed to work, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards in a leer. He splayed his hands as if to say, ‘come and get me if you dare’ and how were you supposed to back down from a challenged like that?

 You had no idea where the overwhelming desire to suddenly have your mouth on him had come from, but it was right there, driving you to grip the base of him and tug him forward gently. He chuckled, following your lead with no complaints.

 Damn, where did you even start?

 A prominent vein ran long the length of him, so you dipped your head and traced the point of your tongue along it- much like he’d done to your clit when he was making you see stars earlier. You could feel the burn of his eyes on the top of your head but you were undeterred from your mission, following the line of the vein back down to the base again.

 Despite how stoic and above all this mindless pleasure he tried to remain though, he couldn’t hide it when he twitched involuntarily under your fingers. Pleased that he wasn’t as untouchable as he thought he was, you hid a grin by flattening your tongue along the underside of him coating him in saliva from your hand to just under the head.

 Fingers trailing upwards, you gripped him somewhere in the middle and tugged his foreskin back- giving you a perfectly mouthwatering view of the shiny, dark pink head of his cock.

 A thick bead of precum escaped from the slit and oozed downwards. You didn’t even have to think before you were catching it on your tongue. More followed and for a few moments, you continued the lazy lapping motion to taste as much as you could.

 Under your free hand that rested on his thigh, you felt his muscles tighten every time you made those little breathy sounds of enjoyment.

 “You enjoying that, kitten?” he asked all pleased with himself. You let your gaze flick up, meeting his eyes just as your pressed a searing, open mouthed kiss to the tip of his cock. His jaw clenched, cockiness falling away as he grunted out an obscenity.

 “Mmm hmm,” you confirmed, just as pleased with yourself for getting a reaction out of him. He wasn’t the only one who could play games.

 “Yeah you are,” he said, sounding almost proud. Of what, you didn’t know but you would take it anyway. You swirled your tongue across the head again and heard his breath catch. “My good fuckin’ girl,” he continued and you felt a sweet, tight burn begin in the tops of your thighs. Despite your protests, his filthy mouth really turned you on. “Rub it over your lips, sweetheart- get them nice and shiny for me.”

 You did as he asked, sliding the hot, dark tip over your lips and coating them in the never ending precum flowing from him.

 “Just like that, fuck,” his head fell back, tendons tensing in his neck.

 The whole time you had been trailing your tongue over him, you had been working up the courage to actually get your mouth around him too. All Might was, if you did say so yourself, a very well proportioned man.

 Not just intimidatingly long, but also thick around as well and you could almost feel the tendons in your jaw protesting already.

 But, mama didn’t raise no quitter.

 Finally working up the nerve and relaxing your mouth as much as you could, you parted your lips over the head of his cock and pressed forward. He exhaled a long, low sound of appreciation that honestly, made the effort worth it. You inhaled deeply through your nostrils, soldiering on until you couldn’t physically take any more of him without choking.

 Although… he would probably enjoy that.

 But you weren’t about to start deep-throating him right away. You had to save a little bit of mystery for the next time after all.

 Glancing up, you saw his abdomen twitch with pleasure and you would have grinned had your mouth not been full. You hadn’t done this in quite a while and never with someone who could literally break your jaw if he decided to jerk his hips. Granted, you wouldn’t mind seeing him get all whiny and lose a little of that constant control he seemed to maintain.

 Thankfully, despite the tension in his shoulders All Might was the very picture of restraint, like he knew that any quick movements would probably leave you with no teeth.

 Might put a dampener on the night if he had to take you to A&E.

 Still, all those old tricks you knew of came rushing back. You weren’t above pulling a few of your moves out, especially seeing as he’d almost blown your head off earlier with his own mouth. You refused to slack off.

 So you hollowed your cheeks as hard as you physically could with so much of him filling your mouth and then drew back up slowly, moaning in satisfaction as you did. Just like sucking on an ice pop. You rolled your wrist at the same time- determined to draw a reaction out of him.

 You weren’t disappointed.

 He drew in a sharp hiss of air between clenched teeth and his massive hand curled into the hair on the back of your head. Wanting more, you repeated the motion again and felt his fingers tighten then relax, tighten, relax. With every bob of your head, every smooth lap of your tongue on him, he let a little more of his tight control go.

 “Ah! Fuck,” he grunted, head falling back and you finally released him with an obscenely wet pop.

 Giving your mouth a break for a moment, you used the combination of saliva and precum- now flowing freely- to lubricate your hand and slowly, teasingly, began to jerk him off. It was almost fascinating, the pull and drag of his foreskin and the way he pulsed under your fingertips.

 He rubbed his palm through your hair, tugging gently and winding his fingers through it- like he was playing with it, encouraging you.

 You licked a long stroke from base to tip, nuzzling at him, practically making love to his cock with your mouth.

 So far, your free hand had been switching between fondling his balls and stroking along his thigh. Smirking slyly while he was otherwise engaged, you tested the waters a little bit. It wouldn’t hurt, after all. Making sure you were distracting him suitably by sucking the head of him into your hot mouth again, you let your fingers play further between his legs.

 Across his perineum, keeping your eyes on his face the whole time.

 His lips quirked in a savage smirk when he realised just what you were trying to do.

 “Where do you think that hand is going, doll?” he chuckled deeply, but he didn’t seem too perturbed by your sudden brave exploration. You shrugged and hummed something nonsensical- although you did have a mouthful of him at the time. Speaking was sort of out of the question.

 You tried to look as innocent as possible but there was no way he was falling for that.

 “Gotta buy a man dinner before you play with his ass,” he waggled his eyebrows and you had to pull away, leaving a string of drool connecting your lips and his cock. But you were laughing all the same at the thought of All Might getting uptight about something at last.

 “I technically bought dinner last week,” you told him, your voice husky and your face aching- but desperately wanting more. You slid your fingers forward further but didn’t get where you were going because he suddenly swept down and lifted you into his arms. You let out a childish giggle, and pouted at him when he brought you up to eye level. “You’re no fun.”

 “Look at you, finally gettin’ all kinky on me,” he muttered, eyes tracing your features and then settling on your swollen, shiny lips. It was apparent that he couldn’t resist from the way he lunged forward, one hand on the back of your neck to stop you escaping.

 Not that you would want to. He didn’t seem to mind that your lips were still sticky with his cum because he plundered your mouth almost wantonly, letting you wrap your legs around his hips while he did.

 He drew your bottom lip between his teeth, biting it softly, tugging on it and then releasing it.

 Your face was impossibly close to his and the urge was just too much when he released you. Without really thinking about it, you ducked your head and nuzzled your nose against his. A smile broke your lips and you gently cupped the back of his head. He was unmoving under your fingers but you didn’t really need him to move, too caught up in the softness of the moment.

 Body humming from two orgasms and the taste of him still on your tongue was making you bold- affectionate even.

 When a big, muscular arm wrapped around your waist you knew that he was, albeit tentatively, accepting you getting all sweet on him. For a now anyway.

 You took what you could get.

 Spearing your fingers in the hair at the back of his neck, you trailed soft, lazy kisses over his throat, his jaw, his lips. Wherever you could reach, supported by the steel band of muscle against your back and your thighs caught on his hips.

 Eventually though, the unprecedented affection seemed to become too much for him and he pulled away.

 But his smirk wasn’t as sharp as it usually was, nor were his eyes as hard. He said nothing about your little detour and instead, pulled you back to his mouth- rough and passionate again. You found it hard to mind because the aching desire was even more desperate to be quenched.

 Two thick fingers trailed through your pussy and you quivered in delight, sighing.

 “Hmm, think you’re up for the challenge now kitten?” he murmured, before sucking his fingers into his mouth and turning your brain into putty.

 “You think you can handle me?” you grinned salaciously, even if the false bravado behind your words was just that. So false. This was going to be a rough ride and you were starting to wonder if you were actually as prepared as you’d thought.

 He didn’t throw you down on the bed and ravage you though, like you thought he would.

 Instead, he set you down and sat on the bed- which creaked in protest- and moved himself back until he was sitting with his back to your headboard. You watched him go, mouth watering and body yearning to follow. How did a guy as big as him move so gracefully anyway?

 He was like a big cat. All, thick powerful muscle but with practised, self assured movement.

 When he was comfortable, he gestured to his lap invitingly and who were you to refuse an invitation like that?

 He reclined, looking the very picture of nonchalance, lazing with one arm slung above his head and the other palming across his cock- which rested thick and hard against his toned stomach. A fresh wave of arousal and heat crashed over you and like a moth to flame, you went to him.

 You crawled on all fours along his body until you were face to face with him, finally finding yourself in the same position you’d been in at the start of all of this, only with far fewer clothes. Well, for you at least.

 How could one man look so sinful and yet so beautiful at the same time?

 Your fingers traced the line of his cheekbone, examining his features in a way you never had before.

 This villain, scourge of the earth who struck fear into the hearts of the most powerful heroes- how, you wondered, how could he be so gentle with you? He could break you apart, physically, mentally. Do whatever he wanted with you. But he didn’t.

 For all the badness in him, something light threatened to shine through despite his desperate efforts to keep it away.  

 You didn’t get any more time to ponder the mystery of him though. His big hands came to grip your waist and then he was helping you rise up. You allowed him to guide you, anticipation mixing with apprehension.

 The blunt head of his cock prodded you, then slipped between the lips of your pussy. He made a happy sound, like he enjoyed the heat and the wetness he found there and you couldn’t help but stare at him intensely.

 He noticed you, matching your look with a fiery gaze.

 “Don’t tense up,” he said warningly, giving you a pointed look as though you were going to disobey him. You understood that he was telling you something that would possibly lessen the pain but all you could do was nod dumbly, throat too tight with nerves to answer.

 He seemed appeased though.

 He let go of your waist, one hand going to your hip and the other slipping between you both to grip the thick base of his cock.

 You kind of wished you could see him do it. Maybe later, you would ask him to give you your own personal show. Your mouth watered suddenly at the thought.

 The head of his cock slid between your lips, once, then twice, as he coated himself in the arousal that was steadily dripping out of you. You attempted to relax as much as you possibly could, but you knew it wouldn’t be enough. It was hard to relax when something that fucking big was threatening to rip you in half.

 Then he was pressing in and his other hand was pulling you down onto him with an agonising slowness.

 Jesus fuck, you thought blindly.

 You inhaled sharply as his head stretched you far more than you thought it would. Your mouth fell open in a silent, pained gasp. Sucking in another breath, you forced yourself to not tense up- aware that it would only make things worse.

 Tears burned sharply in the corners of your eyes.

 Clearly that damned tongue of his had wiped all sense from your idiot brain, seeing as you’d quite willingly gotten this far.

 You panted softly, digging your fingernails into his shoulders in an attempt to calm yourself and bypass the overwhelming stretch. He exhaled through his nose, eyes concentrated on where he was sliding slowly inside you at long last. He didn’t notice when you drew blood from him with your nails. Either that or he didn’t care.

 He showed no signs of letting up or stopping, despite the clear struggle you were going through.

 You were a little grateful that he was powering through. If he stopped now then you might chicken out from attempting it again and to be honest, you didn’t want to stop. Past this pain was the sweet bliss of having him inside you- a bliss that you’d often fantasised about.

 “Ah!” you hiccuped, high pitched and pained as the head of his cock finally slipped inside you with the feeling of a ‘pop’. Despite your attempts not to do it, you accidentally tensed up like he’d told you not to. “Ow, motherfucker!” The words were said through gritted teeth, a tear escaping down your cheek when you squeezed your eyes shut and his gaze snapped to your face, feeling the hard protest of your muscles.

 “I told you not to fucking tense up,” he said, exasperated and shaking his head at your disobedience. You shot a watery eyed a glare at him.

 “Listen, jack ass,” you snapped. “How about we put something the size of a goddamn baseball bat into your vagina? See how well you take it!” you swallowed, still breathing hard but lucid enough to be sarcastic. Good, at least you hadn’t lost all of your brain function. He huffed a sharp laugh, not bothered by your bitchiness.

 “You wanna stop then?” he asked, surprising you.

 “No,” you muttered, petulantly. “… Just- just gimme a second.”

 He grunted out his agreement and when you finally looked at his face you saw red staining his cheeks and his chest rising and falling quickly. Looks like you weren’t the only one affected in all of this. It gave you a tiny thrill that being inside you, even a little bit, was drawing a reaction out of him.

 “At least you’re enjoying yourself,” you managed.

 “Guess I’m impressed, is all,” he smirked, tonguing the inside of his cheek and letting his gaze roam over you. He tweaked your nipples, gliding his hands over your breasts and then down to your trembling thighs. “Didn’t think you’d be able to take it the first time around.”

 Frowning at him and his lack of faith in you, you jabbed him in the chest with one finger.

 “I’m no pushover,” you informed him and as if to prove your point, you chanced a quick, experimental squeeze of your muscles around his cock. He let out a sharp, choked moan of surprise, eyebrow quirking at your sudden boldness. You did it again and found that, although the sting ebbed and flowed, it wasn’t as bad as it was when you’d started.

 “You good now, sweet cheeks?” he grinned, clearly ready to get on with the main event.

 “Giddy up, cowboy,” you said, challenge in your voice and confidence flooding through you. You would keep up with him if it fucking killed you- a determination to make him proud pulsing through you and while you would normally ignore such a base instinct, the urge to fuck him until you both couldn’t walk was louder than anything else now.

 He snorted and then wasted no time in tugging you down further, keeping his eyes locked on the sight of his cock slowly being swallowed by your cunt.

 Inch by inch, he disappeared inside of you and with every new milestone reached, your body shook and protested and trembled. Thank God you’d already come twice. Without foreplay this would have been absolutely impossible.

 By the time you were halfway there, your breathing had steadied and you had loosened your death grip on him bit by bit.

 It no longer hurt like a bitch. There was an edge to the stretch, yeah, but now that it was consistent your body was becoming used to it.

 Never before had you felt this mindnumbingly, satisfyingly full. Your collection of dildos, the ones you’d thought were pretty big when you’d bought them, were almost pathetic in comparison to him. They definitely hadn’t prepared you for this.

 As you sank down, feeling more confident that the pain wasn’t about to overwhelm you, you slid your hands down to his chest and felt your mouth go slack when you finally stopped the descent. A groan caught in your chest, stuttered and choked.

 You rolled your head back, relaxing now that the hard part was over.

 “Well, look at you,” All Might purred out and you convulsed around him at the sound of his voice. He grinned at you, obviously enjoying the sight of your red cheeks and the heaving of your chest, which was making your tits bounce ever so slightly. “You’re taking Daddy’s cock so well.”

 Your stomach clenched when he said that. His calloused hand trailed across your belly then down and he thumbed a circle over your clit when he dipped it between your legs. He slid two fingers either side of where his cock was joined with you.

 You shivered as a pleasurable throb broke through the sustained discomfort at long last. That was fucking nice and you wanted more.

 To his credit, he gave you a few long moments to adjust to the intrusion- not prompting you to move and seeming content to just study you, impaled on his cock as you were. You took the few seconds of reprieve to lean against his chest. Another few moments and you were brave enough to attempt a few experimental, shallow bounces on him that made him hiss out a swear word.

 “Fucking hell,” he said. “You’re tight as a fuckin’ virgin, darling. Feels like you’re strangling my cock.”

 With your new found confidence, you shot him a cheeky smile.

 “You wanna stop?” you parroted his question and to your delight, he laughed and pulled you forward against him. The movement pulled you higher off of him but thankfully, it didn’t jostle you too much and slowly, but surely, you sank back down with a satisfied sigh.

 “This thing should come with a warning label,” you informed him breathlessly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. His eyes followed the movement, his thumb coming up to draw a line across your lip.

 “S’that right?” he said and then waggled his eyebrows at you. You choked out a pathetically girly giggle and it seemed to bolster him. He really did enjoy having an audience. “License to thrill?”

 You groaned, and not from pleasure.

 “God, you’re so fucking cheesy sometimes, it’s embarrassing,” you said, pushing his head to one side. “License to thri- I mean, honestly,” you balked.

 He didn’t seem particularly perturbed by your petty insults, especially when you followed them up by leaning in to plant a hot kiss on his lips. He returned it, fingers winding around the back of your neck.

 You loved it when he was goofy. It happened so rarely and it turned you on like nothing else.

 His kisses were far too good, you decided as his tongue ran across yours and teased your mouth until you were a panting mess of horny. Rising up slowly, you found that you couldn’t quite tear your lips away from his, letting him nibble your bottom lip and then suck on it. Your thighs trembled as you sank back down and you shuddered from the heat of pleasure that coiled inside you and snaked along your limbs.

 He moaned into your mouth and the sound spurred you on.

 Moments later, you rolled your hips and just sort of- went for it.

 Pride welled up in your chest as you did. Not only had you sucked it up and probably broken the world record for actually taking his cock but it was you, you, that was currently putting that look on his face. That heated, contented look as his gaze caressed you from your tits to where he was sinking in and out of you.

 So far, he was keeping to his promise of slow and hard.

 You pulled in a breathy noise, pitched higher than normal as you squeezed experimentally around him. To your delight, he answered you with a guttural groan- and then to your surprise, his hands came up from your hips where he’d been setting the easy pace.

 One splayed across your back and the other… cupped your cheek?

 Oh, nice, you thought warmly.

 Then, quite unexpectedly, he tugged your face close and your forehead met his.

 Oh fuck. It should be a crime to look at someone that fucking intensely. Butterflies exploded inside you and something unnamed and previously quiet, reared it’s head and roared.

 Your eyes went wide but anything you had to say about it was swiftly cut off by the sudden jerk of his hips, sending him forcefully back inside you. You jumped under his hand, crying out in both surprise and pleasure. You hadn’t exactly expected that to feel good but the stretch of your pussy was turning sweeter as you became used to his girth.

 His breathing had turned heavy without you noticing but when you finally did, you managed a grin at him, swivelling your hips sensually and rising up a little further with each bounce.

 It was erotic, the slap of your thighs against his and the feeling of tightness winding in your stomach. He sighed out your name in pleasure and it was like music to your ears.

 “Does Daddy like that?” you asked, all breathy and cocky.

 His lip curled in a leer that both aroused and worried you, mainly because it meant that he was up to something-

 He thrust upwards again and anything else you might have had to add, caught in your throat.

 “Oh holy shit,” you managed after a moment- because unlike before when he’d seemed content to let you set the pace, his thrusts continued, harder and faster than you’d thought you could take. That’s what you got for being full of yourself apparently. Oh the tragedy, you mused headily as your body became pliant and loose under his sudden show of dominance.

The hand that had been on your cheek dropped away to your breast, cupping it and pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He tugged lazily, just enough to make you whine for more.

 “You have no idea how much I like it, sweetheart,” he growled out, his mouth finding your neck suddenly. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long, you know that? Ever since you chewed me out for breaking in and called me an asshole,” he snickered, red hot kisses searing your throat between every word. “My little firecracker, s’what you are.”

 You felt the nip of his teeth, then felt him grin wickedly against your neck. You knew what he was thinking before he did. Alarmed, you managed to say-

 “Toshinori, don’t you dare-”

 But it was too late and he effectively shut you up with another hard thrust just as you were slipping back down onto him. He met you halfway and your brain fucking rattled in your head from the force of it, pleasure shooting like electricity through your veins. You managed a garbled noise that wasn’t even close to words- let alone a protest.

 While he distracted you with mindless pleasure- not that you were complaining- he sucked a bruising hickey into your skin where everyone could see it. His way of marking his territory, you supposed.

 You should probably be mad about it, but some little primal part of you drowned deliriously in the knowledge that he clearly wanted everyone to know who you belonged to.

 You could complain later, your decided, finding a delicious rhythm now and not wanting to let it go for the sake of scolding him.

 Satisfied that he’d marked you appropriately, All Might lazed back against the headboard and seemed content to just watch you bounce steadily on his cock. His eyes followed every movement, every twitch, every roll of your hips. He rumbled out an encouraging word or two whenever you managed to take a little more of him and seemed fascinated by the slick wetness you left over his shaft.

 His fingers came up to play with the hickey he’d left on your neck intermittently, as though he was making sure it was still there.

 You could feel arousal dripping out of you, making your descent easier each time and pulling wet sounds from you with every thrust.

 You rested your hand on his stomach, giving you extra leverage to continue as your legs began to shake with the effort. How he could keep so much composure was beyond you, although, you could see the cracks beginning to form in his perfectly crafted expression.

 The darkening of his gaze, the way his lips parted and is tongue snuck out to wet them. The corded muscle of his neck twitching, the flare of his nostrils and the clench of his jaw every few seconds told you that you weren’t alone in the heady, sweet pleasure.

 Tugging his hand up from where he’d been idly toying with your breasts, you slid one of his fingers between your lips and met his eyes. They seemed to blacken dangerously but when had you ever heeded a warning from him? You laved your tongue over the pad of his finger, moaning and reaching up to cup your breasts in lieu of his hands doing it.

 You tugged on your nipples, riding him with exaggerated rolls of your hips like you were going for the fucking Porn Star of the Year award- all while moaning obscenely around his finger.

 Suddenly, your world tilted and you felt dreadfully empty as he pulled out of you completely.

 “Toshi!” you protested with a shriek.

 You were flying backwards and your back hit the mattress with a sudden muffled thump- knocking the air out of you. Then, much like he had been earlier in your kitchen, All Might was fucking on you in seconds- almost smothering you with his muscular form. His eyes were wild and he snarled into your neck, nipping and biting.

 One hand gripped your thigh to tug it up over his hip, roughly.

 All you could really do was comply under his sudden assault, hooking both legs where he wordlessly instructed you to, locking your ankles over his lower back. The head of his cock nudged your clit and you suddenly found yourself stuffed full again when he thrust back inside you without warning. Thankfully, riding him for so long had adequately prepared you for the sudden intrusion.

 Your back arched, a half halting scream filling the room, surprise mixed with pleasure.

 But- but- oh holy shit, you weren’t complaining seconds later when he rocked his hips and slid deeper, almost to the hilt. This new position was making it easier for him to hit different angles and fuck, you hoped and prayed you weren’t going cross eyed because you had very little control of your body’s reactions right now.

 All you could do was lie there and accept that he was very much in charge.

 You dragged your fingernails down his muscular back, feeling the tension in his shoulders as he ploughed you into your bed without mercy- thrusting with hard, measured strokes that kept you pushing steadily towards another orgasm.

 “Goddamn, fucking tease,” he growled, teeth bared in a dangerous snarl that looked almost animalistic.

 The knot in your stomach unwound at lightening speed, surprising both of you.

 You bucked and whined and generally made it known that your orgasm had hit you like a truck. If the downstairs neighbours hadn’t heard anything so far, they’d have heard that. He clearly wasn’t unaffected by it, his fingers grasping onto your headboard.

 Distantly, you heard a groaning crack but you ignored it, drowning in too much pleasure to care what it was.

 He pulled out of you fully after a moment and you felt another flood of come follow him, your muscles taut and your hands scrabbling for purchase on his shoulders. He swore, sounding wrecked by the fact that he’d made you squirt a second time in one night.

 You were equally as impressed but lacked the actual diction to say anything about it.

 Feeling horribly empty all of a sudden, you whined needily.

 “Come back,” you begged pathetically, reaching for him. He lunged forward, the base of his come soaked cock in his fist to steady it and then pushed back inside of you again in one long stroke. Your eyes rolled back and your weak sob of pleasure was cut off by his mouth covering yours.

 The intensity of the pulsating pleasure between your legs was almost too much to handle, but the thought of it stopping- of him not being inside you any more- was somehow even more unbearable.

 He kissed you wantonly, his tongue imitating the push and pull of his cock and when you pulled back to breathe, you heard the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard before.

 All Might- no- Toshinori whined for you and followed, seeking your mouth again.

 You obliged, victorious. Your muscles fluttered around the shaft of his cock and a vein was dragging across your g-spot with every thrust.

 His hand covered your ass, squeezing one cheek with a brutal grip that was sure to leave a mark. He seemed to be unravelling quickly now, his thrusts losing their regular rhythm. You managed to roll your hips upwards, meeting him halfway.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, trailing sloppy, open mouthed kisses across your neck and chest and the wet heat of his mouth was blissful. “Where?” he asked suddenly and you looked at him stupidly, brain turned to mush and pretty much unable to comprehend anything other than the rapid pulsing of his hips against your thighs.

 Oh you would have so many bruises tomorrow.

 “Huh?” you asked, you voice hoarse and choked as he brushed a thumb over your clit out of nowhere.

 “Gonna come, sweetheart,” he managed an amused smile, nipping at your jaw with sharp canines. “Where d’ya want it?”

 Honestly, it was out of your mouth before you could even think about it. You were on the pill- you knew that much in your foggy ass brain and you also knew that you didn’t want him to stop. Not now. You were rapidly approaching orgasm number four and you knew that if he came inside you, it would push you over the edge so hard you might just shatter.

 Gripping his hips, you tugged him deeper and he cocked his head at you, hair falling over his eyes from where you’d been gripping it before.

 The surprise on his face was stark and you managed a triumphant smile.

 “Inside,” you said, all weak and exhausted but determined all the same. During the exchange, his hips hadn’t stopped or slowed, keeping up the powerful pace. But as soon as you said that, they stuttered and his rhythm slipped completely.

 “Christ,” he groaned and you saw the arm supporting his weight flex, muscles bulging and you had to admit it was a glorious sight to behold. His other hand found your hip and tugged you up to meet his quick, desperate thrusts. “You’re fuckin’ amazing kitten,” he groaned and you knew that this was most honest thing you might ever hear from him.

 Your body responded to his praise, shaking and trembling with the force of his thrusts.

 “You too- God, you too,” you muttered, mindless words of affection spilling out of you. You cried out, body jackknifing when he shifted and the angle changed suddenly. Oh God, that was good. So good. You drew your tongue up and across his throat before kissing him hotly. “I’m so glad- so glad you came back to me Toshi.”

 “You- ugh,” he grunted, his voice hitting a higher pitch that warned you he was close. You tensed in anticipation, desperate to see him unravel on top of you. “You gettin’ all sweet on me baby?” he laughed but there was something else under that bravado that made your heart skip a beat.

 He actually wanted to know.

 “Always- fuck- always been sweet on you,” you said. “Just you!” You cried out, hands sliding along his sweat soaked back, wanting him closer. “Toshi!”

 His body tensed suddenly and then he was coming, exploding inside you and coating you with hot, sticky warmth. You moaned, the feeling of him tensing in your arms and his hot, laboured groan of your name, more than enough to push you over the edge again.

 You pulsed in waves around his cock, breath hitching and nails raking across his shoulders, your final orgasm knocking all of the energy out of you at last.

 He panted, hips bucking as he filled you- still very much in the throes of his own orgasm. He bit down on your shoulder, muffling his swearing and growling as you twitched. Just how much- holy shit!

 Your eyes widened as he pulled out of you swiftly, leaving a messy trail of mixed come dribbling out of your abused pussy. He gripped the base of his cock and just- kept- going.

 Warm, thick come splashed in lines across your stomach and your muscles spasmed again at the sight of his cock, twitching and spurting and generally making a mess of you.

 Eventually, it tapered off and he let go, slamming his hand into the bed beside your head and fisting the sheets in his fingers. His breathing was heavy, almost feral as he attempted to come down from the high of his orgasm. You could still feel the combined come flooding out onto the ruined bedspread below.

 You wanted to press your thighs together but his hips were still between them and his cock rested against your stomach, thick and hot and slick.

 It took you both a moment to get your breath back and you saw him glance down at you when you shifted at long last, wriggling out from under him. You didn’t make it far, when his big hand circled your wrist and tugged you back underneath the sweltering heat of his body.

 “Where d’ya think you’re going, kitten?” he asked lowly, eyes flashing.

 You tutted, patting his cheek fondly to reassure him that you weren’t exactly running away.

 It wasn’t as though you could. These legs were out of commission, clearly.

 “Unless your brain short circuited or something, I’m covered in come thanks to you. I’m going to get cleaned up,” you informed him, flashing him a grin. To your surprise, he rumbled out a deep, low laugh and ducked his face to yours. He kissed you, long and slow and toe-curling, enough to practically melt you into the mattress again.

 You flopped back, now content to just stay here forever.

 “Stay,” he ordered and slipped away from you, leaving you in a messy heap on the bed.

 Oh, these sheets would have to go. Absolutely ruined, you thought mildly as the water in the bathroom began to run. Maybe Toshinori would carry you to the shower, seeing as your legs felt like jelly.

 You didn’t need to ask him though. He returned with a washcloth, wrung out with warm water and before you could say a word, he pressed it against your pussy. It was the most intimate thing you’d ever done- with any man, let alone the most prolific and feared villain in the world. Yet, here he was, cleaning you up after absolutely mind blowing sex.

 He glanced up at you, noting your awed, slack mouthed staring.

 He rolled his eyes.

 “I might be a jack ass, sweetheart, but I still have manners,” he informed you gruffly, rubbing softly between your legs to clean you up. You lay there and let him work, the cloth cooling rapidly and feeling wonderful on your heated, sweaty skin.

 He ran it over your abused thighs and then your stomach, wiping away the result of his orgasm with a stoic expression, and ignoring the giant fucking heart eyes you were sending in his direction. They could all say what they wanted about him. This villain. This man.

 They didn’t know him like you knew him.

 When he seemed satisfied that you were both clean, he helped you sit up and then crouched at the end of your bed- looking a little awkward for the first time ever. The tension was suddenly palpable between you, neither one of you knowing quite what to say to follow such a class act.

 He reached out, hooking a finger under your chin and lifting your face to his.

 “You want me to leave, kitten?” he asked huskily and your heart dropped hard like a stone.

 “What!? No!,” you said, before swallowing back your panic and steadying your voice. “I- I’d like it more if you stayed, I guess.”

 You slid your fingers over his wrist, then up to weave your fingers between his, examining the stark size difference between your hands. He watched your face all the while, eyes dark and unreadable.

 After a moment of silence, he said, “Alright then.”

 At long last, your eyes fell on his chest and your lips quirked, a smile spreading over your face. Reaching out and being careful not to touch them, you ghosted your fingertips over the red gash that had been the beginning of everything.

 To you, anyway.

 What he felt on the matter was still unclear, but his fingers laced with yours was promising.

 “Hey, they held up,” you said proudly, satisfied in the knowledge that despite the fact that you’d just ridden one of your patients, you were still pretty damn handy with a needle. And hey, doctor-patient relations were at an all time fucking high, let’s face it.

 “S’more than I can say for your headboard kitten,” he answered and, frowning at the strange answer, you turned your head. Your face dropped it’s lackadaisical, high expression.

 “Oh for fuck sake All Might!”

 That had been the creaking noise you’d heard earlier. You’d completely forgotten about it- busy being fucked into oblivion.

 He cackled wickedly and you didn’t get to properly survey the mangled, crushed frame of your headboard- because he was tackling you to the bed and laughing evilly into your neck. You’d thought that for once, a whole day would go by without him breaking something but… well, you couldn’t really blame him all that much right?

 It had been partially your fault.

 You snorted a laugh at last and he pressed your joined hands into the sheets above your head. Suddenly, you realised that he wasn’t laughing any more, staring at you instead with a deep intensity- the same kind he’d unleashed on you when he’d pulled your forehead to his.

 Much like then, butterflies came to life in your stomach, rendering you somewhat uncomfortable under the searching of his eyes. As expected, you defaulted to dumb humour in a lame attempt to hide your feelings.

 “What, do I have come on my face or something?”

 His lips quirked.

 “Not yet.”

 You tutted, making a noise halfway between amusement and annoyance.

 “No but for real, why are you looking at me like that? Not that I’m complaining or anything… A girl could get used to being looked at like that you know-” your babbling was abruptly cut off when his lips found yours in a soft, almost lazy kiss. The fire was still simmering inside you and you melted into it, your free arm coming up to wind around his neck.

 When he pulled back, he squeezed your hand- knowingly or not and you sighed in contentment.

 “What the fuck have you done to me, doll?” he asked, cocking his head at you. You didn’t have an answer for him. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wasn’t supposed to-” he bit off the last sentence, looking irritated, almost angry at himself for saying too much. When those shadowed, piercing blue eyes met your again, you found that for once, you didn’t know what to fucking say either.

 There was so, so much that you wanted to.

 Me too? Thank you? I’m terrified every time I look at your stupid face because it makes me feel actual feelings?

 “Get attached?” you said instead, settling on the least crazy of all your other options and he looked away, up towards your hands- fingers still laced together much like your bodies had been. Still were, really.

 A muscle in his jaw ticked hard and you leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek to remind him that with you, judgement was a hard thing to come by.

 You kind of got it, anyway, being in the same boat and all. You weren’t exactly supposed to get attached to the most wanted man in the world. You weren’t supposed to be able to look past all of the bad parts, the violence and the anger and the crushing self loathing. You were never meant to have seen the man underneath, let alone feel anything for him.

 Having sex with him was like removing that last, invisible barrier that kept all these complicated, messy emotions in check. There was nothing to hide from each other now.

 You were falling for him. Hard. It both terrified and excited you in ways that you’d never felt before.

 He was having a whole fucking emotional rollercoaster of his own, it seemed.

 “Something like that, yeah,” he hedged, thumb sweeping across the back of your hand. You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him and his eyebrow raised.

 “So, it’s exactly like that. Don’t be pedantic.”

 “Don’t be pedanti- are you fucking serious?” he spluttered, looking pissed off at your nonchalance. There was nothing like riling him up to get all of those emotions loose, after all. “I’m trying to be… Ah! I don’t fuckin’ know. What’s the word for stupid, emotional and weak?”

 “Heartfelt?”

 “Yeah. That’s the one,” he grunted, but he was half smiling when he said it. His face fell to your neck and whether it was to hide his expression or just to kiss your throat, you didn’t know.

 Apparently he was as useless as you were when it came to emotions.

 With your free hand, you traced patterns across the broad expanse of his shoulders. You didn’t want to push him- barely knew what to say yourself. He shifted his weight to the side after a moment, so that he wouldn’t crush you, settling heavily into the mattress beside you on his stomach.

 Wordlessly, he lifted his arm and you moved underneath it, curling against his side.

 “I kind of like it… you being attached,” you said honestly after a long, contemplative moment. Your fingers toyed with the hair on the back of his head and you didn’t expect him to answer you really. His hand brushed across your stomach.

 Laying there, relaxing in the afterglow, it was easy for sleep to tug at you despite the all encompassing ache you could feel.

 So, you almost jumped when he finally did speak.

 “Yeah,” he said, his voice low and grumpy and irritated as he always was. “I kinda like it too.”

 You smiled, twisting your head to press a kiss to his temple. He said nothing else and neither did you, simply letting the stroke of his fingers lull you away to blissful slumber.

 There was so much to say, so many things to work through and cope with and stress over- but, not right now. Right now, he was here in your arms and he wasn’t All Might. He wasn’t the monster the world condemned and feared- painted as a mindless beast to the masses.

 He was just Toshinori.

 And he was yours.

[hyphypmic]

Samatoki/Ramuda/Ichiro React to Pick-up Lines

Hello lovely people! This is a commission I made for @iloveuro-san-blog <3 

Thanks for your support!

--

Samatoki

Samatoki didn’t know how to respond the moment the pickup line left your lips. He smiled at first, then tried to suppress it, but then he failed. It looked more like a grimace if anything. He was trying so hard to keep his hard facade, but honestly he was one song away from humming the tune and one inch away from wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“You okay?” You asked cautiously. “Did you pull something?”

“Um.” He looked at you. “Haha.” He managed. “What was that?” He felt his cheeks heat up but did his best to ignore it, even though it kept growing.

The two of you were seated on the couch in the warehouse, watching a movie when you simply said: “You’d make a great troy bolton. And I’d be your Gabriella.” (Yes, you convinced Samatoki to watch High School Musical with you. It involved a bet of some sort and you won it.)

“It was a compliment!” You blushed, turning back to the screen.

“Y/N.” He said and you looked at him, and you were shocked by the unreadable expression he had on his face.

“I—.” He made a motion with his hand, but aborted it. “I…” Samatoki really had no idea what to say.

You blushed, and realized you were looking into his eyes for too long. “Movie’s great.”

“Not as great as you though.” Samatoki muttered. Then his eyes widened when he realized what he said. “I mean…” He tensed up. “You… well… you are, great.” He looked down and sunk deeper into his hoodie.

“What?”

“Fuck you.” He said louder, the blush apparent on his cheekbones. “Go back to watching, idiot.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, smiling to yourself. “I’m glad we’re watching this together.”

Samatoki scooted closer, tension fading from his shoulders. “I am too.”

OTHER REACTIONS:

“Well I like you too!”

Then it just

You know

Everything breaks and he’s like a soft mess

Or he goes like: well what was that? stupid?

Then you get hurt then he goes like: gah no I like you you fucking IDIOT!”

—

Ichiro

Ichiro stood there soaking wet, him falling for the simple bucket on the doorframe prank. He was smiling at you and laughing, admitting that you got him.

However, the prank backfired on you because Ichiro naturally had to be wearing the thin white t-shirt. And naturally his abs had to stand out. You started blushing furiously.

And of course Ichiro noticed this. He smiled at you. “Do you want a hug?”

You weren’t exactly dating him, but you weren’t exactly not dating him. It was weird, but there was definitely something in between you two. The fact that you stared at Ichiro’s abs is definitely a sign that you didn’t just see him as a friend.

“No!” You backed up, picking up the bucket. “Don’t you dare—“

“Come here!”

“No!” You screamed and you started running away from him. The apartment was small, but the two of you managed to obstacle race around it. Ichiro even went as far as to do flips in between the love seat and the couches. The most you could do was jump haphazardly.

The two of you were laughing, eventually ending up in the bedroom, you jumping on the bed and standing, Ichiro doing the same.

You brandished your bucket. “You can’t get me, Ichiro!”

He smiled. “Try me!” And quicker than you could react, he grabbed your bucket and pulled it away from you.

“Nononono!” You managed right before Ichiro crashed into you and tackled you on the bed, giving you the biggest, wettest hug. “Get off me!!!” Ichiro started tickling you and you cried out. “St-o-o-o-op!!!” You said in between laughs, Ichiro only laughing in response.

You managed to roll the two of you over and pinned him on the bed. He laughed, but then the two of you quickly realized in what position the two of you were in.

The laughs quickly died into silence, and Ichiro reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. “Gotcha.” He said softly.

“Got me.” You replied, a soft smile on your face.

OTHER REACTIONS

Tbh I honestly think this is perfect for Ichiro haHAHAHA

But I feel like he’d be the type to confess his feelings properly and make you smile while he says it

—

Ramuda

Ramuda wasn’t expecting a pickup line from you, however, he knew just how to respond to it. Ramuda immediately hugged you. “Oh! You cutie.”

Your eyes widened. “I—“

Ramuda laughed and held your hand. “Your shirt is indeed made up of partner material.” He then kissed your hand. “How did you know?”

There was this thing between you two, but only now was Ramuda taking seriously… or maybe he was playing with you.

Ramuda smiled and giggled. “I like you!” He said and hugged you again. “Wanna get some ice cream? Though I’m sure it won’t taste as good as you!”

“I—“ “You’re definitely the dessert to make me finish my meal.”

“I—“ Ramuda pulled you along, rattling off pickup lines like there was no tomorrow.

“Oh.” He paused. “I forgot where the ice cream place is. I’m lost.” He looked at you with big eyes. “Can you show me the way to your heart?”

“R-Ramuda!” You managed, blushing furiously, though enjoying him holding your hand.

Ramuda laughed. “Let’s go! I’ll feed you something creamy!”

“RAMUDA!”

He only smiled at you and continued to pull you, as if starting on an adventure.

OTHER REACTIONS:

Doesn’t respond and just takes you somewhere

Is the type to go like: aren’t we a thing?

Or he claps back immediately and makes it super smooth because its ramada

And he’s having so much fun with you and stuff


—

Saburo

Saburo blushed and his mind went blank. For all his intelligence, he couldn’t come up with a retort. “I—“ He blushed even harder. “I— thank you.” He paused. “Um…”

You didn’t think about what you were saying at the time, the “did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” just popped out. You were blushing as hard, if not harder, than Saburo.

“I…” Saburo put his hands in his pockets. “Are you from Tennessee?” He mumbled

You were taken aback. “What? No, I’m from Japan—“

“Because you’re the only ten I see!” Saburo blurted out.

The two of you both stared at each other, neither of you processing anything.

“I’m sorry!” Saburo put his hands in front of him. “Don’t hurt me!!!”

“Why will I hurt you?” Your eyes widened.

“My pickup line is so bad!!!” Saburo exclaimed. “I’m sorry!”

“Mine is bad as well!!!”

The two of you stood there awkwardly, but you noticed Saburo’s eyes get wider and you started laughing. “You’re so cute!” You managed and you fell to your knees laughing. The whole exchange was so dumb you could barely take it.

Saburo watched you with a surprised expression, his face red, only to get an even louder laugh from you. It wasn’t long though until Saburo started laughing as well. The way you were rolling around on the floor was too much for him. He lay down beside you on the floor, ignoring the stares from everyone else. The two of you stayed like that for a while until the laughter faded and you were sitting back to back to each other. Your hand found Saburo’s and held it. “I like laughing with you, Saburo.”

Saburo giggled and squeezed your hand. “I like laughing with you too, Y/N.”

OTHER REACTIONS:

It’s a permanent 404 error

Instead he just goes like: I like you too

And it just evolves into a cute baby confession and it’s wonderful

—

+BONUS Samatoki: surprise confessions

“I like you!”

Samatoki stopped rapping and the speakers just disappeared. He then walked towards you. “The fuck did you say?” He shouted from where he was.

“I said I like you, you dumb fuck! That’s why my attacks are so fucking weak towards you!” You yelled, putting a hand to your chest. “You and your stupid fucking hair and your stupid eyes and your eyebrows and your fucking CHEST FUCKING BUTTON IT UP!” You knew you were rambling but he was walking towards you and at this point there was no point stopping your confession.

He looked like he was going to punch you, with his fists balled like that.

“What are you gonna do about it huh?” You shouted at him, your rival turned crush. “What? Wanna kick my ass personally?” You didn’t care if the two of you were from separate divisions and would occasionally fight, you liked him and that was that.

Samatoki stopped right in front of you. He growled. “Say it again.”

You stepped closer so you were mere inches from his face, your emotions and adrenaline high from the battle the two of you just had. “I. Fucking. Like. You.”

The air was silent for a beat. “What?” You furrowed your brows and balled your fists. “The fuck are you gonna do?”

He then grabbed your shirt and pulled you in closer. “What I’m supposed to do.” He said lowly and kissed you.

You weren’t expecting that and you instantly melted into it. He pulled away after a few seconds. “I fucking like you too, dumbass.”

You kissed him again and you couldn’t imagine a better way to end the day.