#I need a new season now please I’m gonna eat my own hand

[scrunkly-scribe]

I fucking miss him so much.

[carmenized-onions]

Two Steps Back. | Advanced Payment

logline; it's time to retrace your steps. both of you.

[!!!] series history, this is the thirteenth; nothing distresses me more than when i see people read this out of order PLEASE BABY PLEASE

Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin’ added to. constant headache was actually in season 3? my brain. my power.

Or, maybe you'd like a playlist made especially for this chapter? Consider this my Fishes special.

portion; 17k new record again, please god tell me it gets shorter from here on i'm so. tired..

possible allergies; you will know exactly what trigger warnings you need upon reading seeing the first line. Also! I watched Season 3, and injected some lines from it into this, including the finale. I don't consider it full spoilers, because it's an entirely new context, but you might wanna catch up before you read this one!

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader so excessively gendered, in this chapter. my bad.

it's my birthday so if you typically lurk legally you have to tell me your thoughts on this one! Also it's once again the new longest, so like. cmon.

“What are you, Amish?”

You blink, craning your head back to look up at this annoying giant. You’re too tired for this shit. This is your one day off this week and you’re spending it fixing faulty lights with your dad, at some shit diner. Why did you agree to start coming on jobs? Why’s this guy gotta bother you on your lunch break? What’s wrong with you not wanting to smoke? Pardon you for not wanting to kill yourself with tobacco—

“Ah, no, I’m just uhm—” You gesture your hand to your head. “I get migraines, kinda easy, so I can’t, uh— Can’t indulge.”

He nods, he opts to stand next to you, while you’re sitting on the curb. At least the smoke will blow over your head, this way. You try to eat your lunch in peace. He does not let you have this moment of peace.

“Jack, right?” He nudges your foot with his. “That’s what your pop’s calls you, at least?”

“Yeah. Everyone calls me Jack.” You nod. Guess this is a conversation now, whether you want it or not. “You’re Mikey? The owner?”

“The Original Chicago Beef, in the flesh.” He nods, and he says it like he’s proud but he doesn’t look it. He leers at your partially consumed tin foil wrapped sandwich. “You bring your own lunch?”

You shrug. “Uh, yeah, grilled cheese with pork—” 

“Why would you—”  The door to the kitchen swings open, as Mikey grimaces. You both turn your heads to see another guy come out— Oh it’s that one, the one that cannot stop talking about his divorce— Mikey consults him. “Yo, Rich, do I look like some jamoke, to you? Just wonderin’.”

Rich, tilts his head, and his legs follow after him, “No, cousin, whatssup?” He takes the cigarette from Mikey, when it’s offered up.

“Well, our little fixer friend here—” Mikey nudges you, again. “—seems to think me a fuckin’ ass.”

Now when did you say anything like that? “Wha—”

“Stop making lunches, I’ve been watching you come in here with your little lunch pail the past few jobs, you eat free ��ere, aright? You’re workin’.” Doesn’t matter what you said. Mikey sees you. Mikey’s always seen you. 

‘workin’’ is a bit generous. The most you do is hand your dad tools, hold a flashlight, and ask too many questions. You definitely could do more, but he knows you're too tired. He really just wants to spend time with you. You pretend to not know his ulterior motives.

“We’re gentlemen here, sweetheart.” Rich bends down, so you can see him past Mikey’s frame, at your level. He reaches a hand out for you to shake. “Richie. Jerimovich.”

You’re not gonna remember that. You take his hand and shake it. “Jack. It’s— I’m just Jack.”

You’ve only got one hand on your sandwich, to shake Richie’s hand. So, like a school bully, Michael takes your loosened grip as his opportunity to grab it from you. “Yoink—!”

You whine, “C’mon—” “Let me make you a real fuckin’ sandwich, sweetheart—” “I’d just like my sandwich, alright?” “Oh, it’ll be your sandwich, alright? You think I don’t make good sandwiches? Richie, she doesn’t think I make good sandwiches.”

“Fuckin’ insane, cousin.”

You attempt to defend yourself from the peanut gallery of one guy. “Not what I said!”

“Why do you keep bringing lunch, then?”

Because it’s easy? Because it’s orderly? Because you’ve been in a full state of autopilot for the last threeish years and every day you’ve eaten the same breakfast and made the same lunch and then you go on your shift and then someone nearly dies and sobs in your arms and then you sit on the edge of the ambulance and you eat your grilled cheese and pork? Because if you break the routine it’s all gonna hit?

“I just like making my own lunch.”

“Well, stop. You’re breaking my heart.” Michael takes a bite of your sandwich. You click your teeth. Germs. You’re going to chastise him, but he doesn’t let you. “You like pork more than beef?”

“I think beef is fine.”

“Not what I asked.”

You take too long to respond, meaning the lie won’t be believable, so you have to tell the truth. You have to tell The Original Chicago Beef that— “I… I like pork more.”

“How dare you—” Barks Richie, the guard dog, apparently. Mikey stops him, putting a hand up.

“No, no, I asked the lady a question. She’s wrong but I asked. Fair’s fair. We express our fury like gentlemen, Cousin.” He nods, to himself. Thinking. About what is beyond you. God, so much for a lunch break. You point to your sandwich in his hand.

“Can I have that back—” “No. I’m makin’ you a goddamn real sandwich.”

You all but growl, really. You start to stand up. God, this guy is pushy. “I just said, I prefer—”

Mikey’s already making his way back into the kitchen, with the last half of your lunch as hostage. “Oh, I’ll make you a fuckin’ pork sandwich, aright?”

Mikey’s guard dog stamps out the butt of the shared cigarette, walking backwards into the kitchen, following Mikey but watching you. “He’s gonna make you fuckin’ pork, aright?”

“Aright!” Is all you can yell back, at your wits with the two dumbest most stubborn middle-aged geezers you’ve ever met.

Richie holds the door open for you, so you don’t get locked out. Alright, maybe he is a gentleman. You hear Mikey’s voice ring, from inside the kitchen. “And if you’re not doin’ nothin’ for your dad, try to fix the fuckin’ coffee machine, would you?”

This fucking guy. 

You have waved at him a couple times, here and there, while helping out your dad. But now, you’ve officially had Michael Bear Berzatto in your life for a solid ten minutes. Doesn’t feel like it.

Carmen Anthony Bear Berzatto has officially not had you in his life for ten minutes. Doesn’t feel like it. Feels like you’ve been gone for years. But you’re probably still just outside, talking to Richie and Syd. How is it still Friday? What time is it? Almost six? They’ve still got four fucking hours of service to go? No, that’s a good thing. This is a good thing. Doesn’t give him time to think. Everyone needs to stop staring at him. 

What a fucking monster. What did he even say? He can’t remember anymore. He remembered ten minutes ago, and now it’s gone. Completely walled off in his memory. What did he say? Why did you make that face? What did he say to Richie, again? Why did you step in front of him? What did you say, again? What did Richie say? What happened? He can’t remember. He knows he did something fucked up but Carmen cannot remember what happened twenty minutes ago. That’s bad, right?

“I need hands!” Carmen does not recognize the fact that he’s working until he hears his own voice.

Right. He’s on expo. He’s doing expo. That’s what was happening twenty minutes ago, he thinks. That’s what was happening, right? Doesn’t matter. This is what he’s doing now. Fak comes back in and takes the tray to run. He looks around for a moment, confused. 

“Where’s Tony?”

“She’s gone.”

Fak pauses. You don’t leave, that doesn’t match up in his brain. It doesn’t really match up in Carmen’s either, but this is what’s happening now. “What’d’you mean she’s gone?”

“I mean she’s fucking gone, Fak.” Carmen barks back, practically. Such a fucking monster. Could Fak tell him what he said? Doesn’t matter. Carmen nods to the plate. “Table twenty-five, go.”

“...Where’d she go—” “Fucking go, Fak!”

There is a loud, thrumming buzz. The type that goes off after a game. Or maybe after a wrong answer. Expo clock. Since when did it have a sound setting? The kitchen flinches, including Carmen, including a meek-made Neil, and look to the clock behind them. 

Time has stopped. 0ERR is all it displays now. The sign ‘EVERY SECOND COUNTS’ is real ironic, now. What the fuck happened? You would know. You’re still outside, Carmen could get you. Carmen could get you and say he’s sorry for whatever happened. The back of his head feels like it’s hemorrhaging. He needs to go to a doctor. Maybe a paramedic. Carmen could get you, ask you what he said, and also ask if he is actively dying, right now.

“Fak.” 

“Carm?”

“Table twenty-five.” Carmen points at the plate again, with his sharpie. Then points behind him, to the broken clock. “Then fix that.” 

“Why not call To—” “Do you want a fucking job here or not?” “I—I do—” “Then do your fucking job, Fak.”

Carmen doesn’t need you. The Bear doesn’t need you. They can function just fine. Everything’s fine, without you. Everything’s normal. Everything is the way that it should be. He is shaking so much— When did he eat? Has he eaten? What the fuck is wrong with him? What happened twenty minutes ago? Or was it twenty-five? No. That’s table twenty-five, he’s mixing up his numbers. What time is it? He doesn’t know. The whole kitchen doesn’t know what time it is, anymore. You are gone and so are the minutes. 

Fak leaves, with the plate. Shrunken. Following orders. Carmen just turns everyone into himself, doesn’t he? What a fucking monster. He knows how bad it is to be him, and yet he still does it. Look at the orders, Carmen. Run fucking expo. So fucking slow, Carmen. Look at the orders. 

The crumpled piece of paper you handed him twenty minutes— Thirty? Fuck. The fucking note you handed him some amount of time ago. It sits on his table, next to all the actual orders. He rereads it, instead of the five cavatellis he’s supposed to be yelling about, right now.

Walk-In Hotfix, $80

Plumbing Repair (Service + 4 Hours), $250

Oven Wiring Fix (House call), $70

Oven Hotfix + Replacement Thermocouple, $120

Non-Gratis: Pinot Grigio, -$20

Advanced Payment, M. Berzatto. -$2,500

You forgot the booths. And taxes. And you should probably get paid a half day, for serving for the past half hour. You also forgot all the times he called you, texted you, came over, the bookshelf you brought him, the basil, the rosemary water, cleaning up his trash, every time you tried food for him, every time you told him everything was going to be okay, every time you made everyone breath in here like it was going to be okay— You forgot everything you do. Priceless. Easily, you are owed millions, from Carmen. 

He flips over the note. He reads Sweeps’ quick scribings from David, the fucking asshole out front, the fucking asshole in his head. 

Cherry + Lamb, good flavour. A lot of elements. Fresh, Unique. Overall good? Ig? Weird tone.

Said he’d like to speak to ‘Wine Girl’ (ick), mentioned Michelin connect? Number = Connect? (Ick)

You didn’t eat the cherry and lamb dish. That just connected, in his head. You didn’t get to eat it. Not only did you not get to eat it, the motherfucker outside did. Fuck. You were trying to be nice, but you’ve fucked him. Unique is practically a slur to his Exec. Carmen has fun when he makes things for you— He plays— That’s not what his Exec wants. He wants two elements, max. The fact that David actually liked the flavour is nothing short of a fucking miracle. Carmen could throw up. He’s definitely getting an ulcer, again. Where’s your Tums? Fuck, you took it with you, didn’t you? 

It’s embarrassing how many rules he forgets to implement, when he cooks for you. Boundless, unrestricted— When he cooks for you. Doesn't cut a single concept. It’s mortifying that someone other than you ate it, let alone David fucking Fields.

Carmen’s eyes feather, almost closing, but not completely. He scratches his fingers through his hair, destroying the cast of gel it’s been stuck in. His curls are desperately trying and failing to reform. It doesn’t matter how much he runs his hands through it, he cannot get it to smell like you again. He cannot find you in himself, he cannot find you in his kitchen. That’s what annoyed him, earlier, wasn’t it? That you were everywhere? That you were carved in, everywhere? He thought he didn’t want that?

His knees bounce where he stands, he bumps into his jacket under the table. Right. You left it. Are you cold? Turtleneck was thin. You looked so good. You always look good. Better, in his clothes, but you always look good. Did he remember to tell you that? Probably not.

“Where—” Fuck, he really is going to throw up. “Where we at on Booth Twelve’s dessert tray, Chef?”

You said it was okay for Carmen to give your number out. You gave your dish out. You shelled yourself out, for Carmen. It feels like a cave is being hollowed out, in his throat. He is so angry and he doesn’t know who it’s for. He doesn’t know where to put it. Is that what happened twenty-three— twenty-four minutes ago? Did he give it to you? No, he gave it to Richie, right? That’s how it started. Marcus hands off the dessert paddle to expo, silently. No one wants to talk to Carmen. That’s probably fair. What did he say? Probably bad. It’s already huge they haven’t walked out on him, yet. Has anyone walked out, yet?

Marcus is here, Syd is still out back— Well, actually, she might’ve left with you, she should if she can. Are you still out there? Tina wipes her eyes, working at the oven you fixed thirty— No, forty— Fuck— Earlier. It’s probably the onions from the broth making her tear up. No, it definitely is. Fak is out front, Sweeps is out front, Richie is still out back.

What did he say to Richie? Something about kids? There are no servers to hand off dessert to stupid fucking booth twelve. Carmen cannot keep looking at the family he’s ruined, in whatever way he managed to ruin it. He grabs the dessert tray. He’ll deliver it himself. He can do it all himself. He’s good by himself.

You’ve been out of Carmen’s life for 0ERR minutes. Yeah. That’s exactly how long it feels like.

“Try it try it try it.” You mumble, hurriedly, excitedly, to Marcus. The bread guy. He’s the nicest of the bunch, so far. You hand him the mug. He takes a sip of the coffee you’ve been perfecting for the last six jobs here, give or take. You’ve been in The Beef’s life for two months or so.

“Holy shit.” He nods, digesting it— Actually digesting it, which means— “It’s edible.”

“I know!” You all but shout, too excited to hide it. You’ve finally figured out how to make this thing produce what it’s supposed to— Instead of what is essentially arsenic with coffee flavouring.

Your excitement makes a line cook behind you grimace. The one you’ve still got yet to win over. “My ears, kid.”

“Sorry.” You reply lightly. Your back is turned to her, so she can’t see you cringe to Marcus, crying for help, practically. He’s sympathetic. He kept saying you just need to prove yourself, but it’s been taking forever, what else can you prove?

He decides to fast track you. “Yo, T.” She nods. She respects Marcus. But you’re just some girl that’s been in her walkway for the past seven weeks. “Try it.” He hands her your edible coffee.

She rolls her eyes, already nonplussed, but she takes the coffee. She is genuinely impressed, for a split second, before it turns into a coy sarcasm. “Wow— You’ve made not poison, great job, baby.”

“I’m gonna get better.” You respond instantly. That’s something you noticed Tina likes. Quickness. “I’m gonna make you a good coffee.” Determination, too.

“Bold.”

“Thank you—”

“No.” She pushes the coffee to your chest; you grab it before it spills. “I like it bold.”

God, she’s so scary. “Heard.” She’s so cool. 

She watches you, for a second; wants to see if you crack. You don’t, thankfully. She folds. She finally kinda likes you— Or rather, is willing to admit it, in some small way. “You can come tonight.”

You can come to family, tonight. It takes everything in you not to cheer. You should mix them drinks. Or is that too try hard? No, it’s the perfect amount of try— Right? It was your old party trick in college, you should use it. Prove yourself.

“Cool.” Is all you can say, without seeming like a desperate nerd. 

You've been slowly cutting away at every relationship in your life, par for your family— And even that hangs by a thread— And you thought you were fine with that. You thought you were good like that, but once you got used to The Weirdos of The Beef, you cannot help but desperately want friends, again.

Every moment you get outside of your twelve to twenty-four hour EMS shifts, you spend it here. You’re tired, but it might actually be worth it; to talk to people instead of rotting in your apartment for half a week every week.

What month is it? March? When's Squid's birthday again? Did you miss it? It's the one time a year you get to talk without the underlying pressure that you have to hang out now.

Happy Birthday, what have you been up to? Oh, same thing as last year? You're irrevocably a different person now but you're also still the same? Nothing much? Same here. We should see each other soon. We won't. I won't say I love you because I don't want to be weird. Even though we used to say it every day. I will never know you like I used to, and so I won't even try. Same time next year?

Working in The Beef reminds you of her. Reminds you of the other stubborn cook in your life. Was in your life? Don’t think about that. Sometimes you hear her dad's voice out front, buying himself a half-hot half-sweet braised beef sandwich. Sometimes you think about going out there and saying hi. Sometimes you think about asking about Syd. Sometimes you think about asking how the catering gig is going. Sometimes you think about asking if she needs you anymore.

You never do.

“Aye.” Mikey claps your shoulders, bringing you back to earth. You didn't even realize he was behind you. He digs his hands in, a sudden and always painful massage. His preferred way of saying stop fucking tweaking. He leans over your shoulder, looking at the coffee cup that doesn't look as pitiful as it usually does. “Good job, kid.”

“Thank you—” “Now figure out how to make it worth drinking.”

You scoff, rolling your shoulders to push him off you. “I'm fuckin’ trying!” 

His hands stay in place, but his massage does become gentle, and actually decent. Per usual. You’re not sure how he always manages to get the knots. “T say you can come to family?” 

You had to get all yeses that you are now in fact family to join for family. You look over your shoulder to face him. “Mhm.” 

“Good.” He looks around. “Your dad here?” 

You nod. “In the basement, something about your furnace? It's fucking beyond my skill set, so I'm up here until he needs me.” As much as your dad started doing this to hang out with you, heads got too hot with you fucking up which tools to hand him one too many times; repeatedly yelling same team in a more and more distressed tone did not seem to be helping either. Whatever. Gave you more time with the coffee machine. You’re going to make this thing your bitch, one day. One day this thing is going to sing for you.

“Oh, good.” And with that, he's already pulling you to his station. “You can help me with family brisket, then.” 

“Nooooo—” “If you want family you gotta be family, Jack.” 

You whine, but you don't mind this at all. Mikey sees you. Mikey knows you; probably better than he should. He knows you always need something to do.

“Pork?” “Pork.” “Fine.” It's your recipe, so you must oblige.

He's good. Mikey is good. Mikey pays attention. Mikey's made the cycle break in a way that doesn't hurt.

Carmen needs to apologize to Richie, for never taking his stress over running front of house seriously.

Carmen hates being out front already and he’s only just stepped out. Why is everyone looking at him out here, too? He should also apologize for whatever he said forty minutes ago. Thirty-five? Doesn’t matter. What’s important is handing this dessert tray to the fucking jagoff. The man who Carmen dreamed of becoming, the man who he’s now scared he’s become. David Fields. Former Executive Chef. Too many accolades to list. 

“Dessert is served, hope you enjoy, Chef.” Carmen manages to bite his tongue for this guy, so why can’t he do it for the people he actually gives a fuck about? He’s a fucking coward. He swallows, setting the dessert paddle down in front of the stupid five fucking guests. Far too big a party, for a fucking walk in. And all they got for dessert was the fucking tasting paddle? Why are they skimping now? Assholes. All of them. Carmen knows all of these people. Well. Knows their faces. Remembers working with them, but never really talked to any of them. Why would he? He was focused. He was good.

“Thank you, Chef.” Says David. It feels like lightning, to hear those words. But not in a good way. It should feel like an accomplishment, to hear this guy say anything remotely positive, to Carmen, but it doesn’t. It feels the opposite, honestly. Feels like something’s wrong. Getting this guy’s approval is wrong.

This is the part where Carmen is supposed to leave. This is the part where the server goes back to the kitchen and continues their job. But he can’t. He’s stuck in place. He’s back in front of the fire, and he’s not putting it out. Carmen swallows hard and his spit feels like glass all the way down his throat. His Exec stares at him, nearly coy— Like he knows. Like he can see the invisible snake coiling around Carmen. Like he knows that Carmen desperately has something to say. 

“Let’s have it, Chef.” David goads.

Fuck it. Fuck everything, fuck it. Not like the night can get worse. “Can we step out, for a second, Chef?”

“Lookit this.” Mikey pivots his phone to you, for you to see a photo he's just been sent.

It's of… “What the fuck is that?” You've got no clue. Some weird spiralling array of colours. 

“I've no fucking clue. Food? Apparently?”

It's April, and Mikey has let you in. You will not realize how big a deal this is until it's too late. But right now, you're just happy to be hanging out with him before open. Without your dad, too.

Their most frequent regular’s favourite chair broke, one of the legs just fully gave out underneath him. It's an easy fix. Mikey could probably do it himself. Fak or whatever the fuck his name is could absolutely do it himself. Mikey called you, instead. Called you. Not your dad. You think this'll be your first and last solo job. Naive.

“Carmy?” You assume, he's the only person that's on that rich people shit. Michelin Star Chef, baby boy with big dreams.

“Yessir. He’s still killin’ it.” Is all Mikey says, tucking his phone away. You frown at him, screwing the chair leg in, sitting on the floor. He groans. “Don't gimme those eyes, Jack.”

“You should reply!”

“He doesn't need a fuckin' reply.” 

You tilt your head, the look you give him translates to ‘Are you forreal?’

He just sighs, exasperated. “You don't get brothers, Jack.”

“I literally have brothers, Michael.”

“Yeah but it's—” He gestures to the general air, attempting to explain nothing. “It's different. We communicate different.”

“Sure.” You can admit that. “I'm sure the dynamic is very different brother to brother, brother to sister. But like—” You jiggle the chair leg, alright maybe it's not that easy of a fix. “It sucks bein’ the baby, I know that much.”

“You're the baby?”

“Yeah, why?” You lift your head from the chair back to him. “I got middle child energy? I’ll fuckin’ kill you.” 

“No, no— Oldest.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Thought you were one of me, Jack. My own blood.”

You scoff. But it’s not something you haven’t heard before. You’ve got the blood of people who’ve had to take care of people. “Well, being the only sister kinda made me the oldest sister.”

You pad your hand around the floor, searching, before looking up to Michael, again. “You see the fuckin—?”

He tosses you the chair leg cap, before you can finish asking for it. “You’d like Nat. Similar ideologies.”

“I would love to know how your younger sister fuckin’ survived you, that’s for sure.”

He laughs, at that. “She’s a trooper. Surrounded by some of the worst men Chicago has to offer.” He looks at the coffee that you painstakingly crafted for him, this morning. “This is actually kinda fuckin’ good, Jack.”

“Do you have to add actually and kinda?”

He rolls his head back, neck straining. “For what you had, it’s fuckin’ perfection, alright? Happy?”

“Fuckin’ delighted.” You throw the chair up onto its legs, and it stands. “You?”

He gets up from his seat to try out the chair. He takes the coffee with him. There’s a split second where you’re scared that actually this was too hard a job for you and Mikey is going to fall and the hot coffee is going to careen everywhere and fucking scald him and you told him he needed to get a first-aid kit in here but he hasn’t gotten around to it yet—

Mikey sits, and the chair works. He takes another sip of your chai coffee blend, like a vote of his confidence. He never had any doubt you could get the coffee machine to work, never had any doubt you could make a good coffee, never had any doubt you could get the chair to stand strong. Mikey has always always believed in your capabilities, even when you haven’t, and has always been happy to prove yourself to yourself. Mikey is really good at being an older brother, you think. And forget that he never texted back the real baby of his real family.

“Fuckin’ delighted, Jackie.”

“Never fuckin’ call me Jackie.”

“Heard.”

Two executive chefs stand in front of a restaurant, there’s probably a joke in here somewhere. Carmen doesn’t care to find it. He watches your car drive out onto the road, out of the corner of his eye. That’s it, then. You’re gone. He fishes a pack of cigarettes out from the chest pocket of his chef’s uniform. 

“You should quit.” Says David, so high and fucking mighty. As if he doesn’t house a bottle of wine daily.

“I’m aware.” Carmen lights it anyways. You don’t smoke. Did his mouth taste bad, every time he’d kiss you? Probably. You probably just bore it for his sake. Maybe that’s why you so rarely went for his lips. He takes a puff, it doesn’t calm him down. 

“Your hair is fucked.” 

“And the food?”

“Busy. You can lose the basil and eggplant. You’ll re-learn.” David tilts his head, thinking, smarmy. “Someone got in your head.”

“Someone other than you, yeah.”

“Awe.” David smiles, something he so rarely did in the kitchen, but perfected in public. His tone is so perfectly pouty, like it’s disappointing he’s not the only one living rent free in Carmen’s brain anymore.

Carmen steadies his eyes forward, to the street. He cannot look his own personal nightmare in the eyes, but he can say what he’s always wanted to say. “Why are you such a fucking asshole?”

“How am I an asshole?” “Can you stay ‘til after close?” “You’re welcome.”

Carmen turns his head to face him now, eyes wide like plates. “I— I’m welcome? For—For-for what?”

“You were an okay chef, when you started with me.” David doesn’t fear eye contact. David’s probably never had a bad day in his fucking life. “And you left an excellent chef, so you’re welcome.”

Carmen’s never even heard the fucking word excellent come out of this man’s mouth. Let alone to describe him. It doesn’t feel good, for some reason. It still doesn’t feel good to receive praise from him, despite the fact that he’s everything. 

“You…” Carmen needs a second, to catch his breath. He probably should quit smoking. “You gave me ulcers, and panic attacks, and— and nightmares— You— You know that? You understand that?”

“Yeah.” David’s entirely unfazed. All he’s heard is a list of benefits, in his head. “I gave you confidence and leadership and ability— It fucking worked.”

Is this what it working is supposed to feel like? Is this what it feels like to function? Is this what it means, to make it? If it is, then what the fuck does not making it feel like?

“I’m— I’m, I’m— I’m actually fuckin’ stunned, right now, I—” Carmen rubs his hands over his eyes. “My life stopped.”

“That’s the point.”

“That’s the point?”

“You wanted to be excellent. You got rid of all the bullshit, you concentrated, you focused— And you got excellent. And it worked. You’re here.”

You’re not bullshit. You’re not bullshit and he shouldn’t have done whatever he did to make you leave. Carmen is anything but excellent, without the people behind him, and he’s realizing that now. He’s an idiot, because you told him this, the second day of knowing him you told him this. He has a wonderful team— A family— A family he now considers you a part of. And he tanked all of it, everyone— Why? Because he had a bad fucking day? Because a dish got sent back? Because he fucked up tremendously? Boo-fucking-hoo, Carmen. It takes an idiot like David, who thinks he’s a genius, for Carmen to realize they look exactly the fucking same— And that is the actual thing that’s mortifying, tonight.

The real mortifying thing, isn’t that you were so fucking sweet and considerate of his stupid fucking brain and his stupid insane aspirations— It isn’t your dish. The mortifying thing is he prioritized the man in front of him, in any regard. It’s mortifying that Carmen made you feel like you had to prioritize the man in front of him.

“I just— I just made the—The only fuckin’ good thing in my life leave because— Because you got in my fucking head.”

David just raises his brows, like Carmen’s fucking stupid. Like there’s not a problem here. Because to him, there isn’t. And once again, the stupid fucking Exec repeats. “You’re welcome?”

“I’m—” The door opens, and for a moment, despite the fact that he watched your car disappear minutes ago, Carmen still thinks there’s a chance it’s gonna be you; begs a higher power that it’s going to be you. It’s not. It’s Richie. 

“Hey asshole—” Richie stops, when he sees David. “Ah. You’re needed, Chef Carmen.”

“Cousin— You’re needed, pronto.” 

“Not your Cousin.”

“Heard and resented.”

Richie’s had a habit of calling you cousin, lately. You pull your head out of the back of the Ball-Breaker arcade machine. Its controls are allegedly on the fritz, but you’re pretty sure Chi-Chi just sucks at this game. “Whaddya need? Do I have to run front a-fucking-gain?”

That was a fun out of nowhere three hour shift with zero restaurant experience— Par for bar. It will not be the last.

“Nono— Just a cuppa coffee? More like six.” 

You kiss your teeth, tutting him. “You know how the fuckin’ machine works—”

“Want your coffee?” He corrects, like stroking your ego will make you fold. It does. You stand up, stretching your legs.  

“Fine. Just get me a list of everyone’s—” He slaps a folded note against your forehead. “Orders.” 

“Fucker.” You take it off your head to read. “Whatta ‘bout Mikey’s?” He’s missing from the list.

Richie shrugs. “Surprise him, he’s out back— In one of his moods.”

You don’t know how uncommon it is for Mikey to be so out of it. You’re meeting Mikey during his slow but certain downward spiral, but you don’t know that. No. How could you? No, so you think it’s normal for Mikey to occasionally leave rooms and turn inward. 

“Aye aye, Rich.”

He kisses your temple as you pass him, making an all too aggressive ‘muah’ noise, because that’s what fake Italians do, as a form of thanks, and lets you go work your magic on the coffee machine. 

You’re pretty integrated into The Beef, at this point. How long has it been? You don’t really need this list of orders, but it’s good to visually ingrain in your brain. You’re thankful to Mikey for investing in a bunch of Torani’s syrups for your coffee dreams. You’re here enough for it to be worth it, anyways. 

You’re probably gonna start being here a lot more, soon. Well, maybe.

You haven’t told anyone yet, about what your dad told you this morning. That he’s gotta retire, soon. Like soon, soon. Now, you’re faced with a decision— Keep going with this EMS thing until your body fails and you need to be wheeled out by your own coworkers, or take on ownership of a small family business directly after the fucking pandemic. Really good options, here.

You’re leaning towards the latter, at the moment. You’re leaning towards being called here, for half your jobs. It’d be hard to make ends meet on just whatever crack change Mikey is able to pay you— But you used to bartend in college— You could work dailies whenever you’re short. Probably. It probably won’t be that hard. Could it be harder than what you’re doing now? Could it be harder than watching someone flat line? Probably not.

Ebra, watered down black coffee. T, two sugars, one milk, cinnamon and chocolate syrup. Marcus, spiced coffee. Sweeps, water in a deli cup— A delicacy. Richie, two sugars, cinnamon syrup, ideally boiling hot. 

But to be fair, people need someone like you. People need paramedics. Is it selfish for you to decide you can’t handle it anymore? Should you let your body break before you let yourself go on one? Fuck. Fuck. Where’s Mikey? You’re feeling the knots build up again. 

Out back. Richie said he’s out back. You pick up your coffee, and Mikey’s— cinnamon and caramel, this time— And head out back. 

And you see a sight that you’ve actually seen plenty of times.

You’ve just never seen it in the back alley of The Beef. You’ve just never seen it happen to a friend. You’ve just never seen it happen to Mikey. You don’t drop your coffee cups in some sort of dramatic shock, or anything like that. Because that would take time. It’d take too much time to be shocked. You just turn around, immediately, partially crashing into the door as you run back in, breaking the mugs and spilling scalding hot coffee over your hands and chest— You don’t feel it, you don’t give a fuck. 

“Cousin!” 

You’re a mom friend. That’s what Syd used to say. You carry Tums, painkillers, cough drops, pepto— All in your purse or pockets. You keep a lighter on hand. You keep safety pins— All ranging in size, just in case of a clothing mishap. You keep kid’s band-aids in your wallet. You’re a mom friend. Everyone used to find you also carrying a naloxone kit a bit dramatic, like you were overdoing it. You always hoped they were right; that it would never be used. Regardless, you'd always replace it when it expired.

“Cousin get my fucking bag, now!”

“Right.” Carmen’s honestly kind of surprised, to be needed. But it’s probably just cover, to talk. People don’t typically need people like him, especially not Richie. He nods to David. “Chef.”

“Chef.” David nods back. He looks at Richie. “Where’d your translator go?”

The fuck? Richie does not look phased, at all. He also looks like he’s been crying— So it might just be that nothing phases him, right now— But at the very least, Carmen would expect some surprise. So this disrespect must not be new. Why didn’t he tell him?

Maybe he did, actually. Maybe that’s what happened forty minutes ago? How’d that lead to you leaving? 

“My what?” Richie knows exactly what David’s getting at, but he asks anyways, to embarrass the fucker.

But David doesn’t feel embarrassment, it’s just not in him. “Your somme.”

“She had to leave early.”

“Ah,” He nods, “You’ve got her number, by chance?”

A deep and sharp exhale, through Richie’s nose, as he desperately tries to be a good host. Tries to be star material. But he runs his tongue across his top teeth and he just can’t bring himself to bite it. Richie hates both of the men in front of him right now. “I do, I do, actually— I’ve had her number for three years, memorized, y’know why?”

David shrugs, delighted to upset someone. “She your wife or something?”

A sharp, terrifying chuckle, honestly— One that hides any sign of a smile. Rich steps forward. “Oh, I should be so lucky. I would be so fucking lucky, if a woman like that—” And he pivots his head, to speak very deliberately, to Carmen. “Decided for some Godforsaken fuckin’ reason, that I was worth an ounce of her precious time— Let alone her hand.”

“If only, truly, David.” Still looking at Carmen, squarely in his face. “If fuckin’ only. If I had someone like that— I’d be on hand and fucking knee, for her.”

“Chef.” Carmen’s talking to David but looking at Richie, but that might also be because he can’t look anywhere else. 

“Chef.” David shrugs, whatever fight here is beyond him. He doesn’t fucking care. Carmen knows the Michelin thing was bullshit—Certainly David can put in a good word, but inspectors are anonymous, that’s the whole point. But his stupid fucking Exec wanted to see if Carmen would stoop so low as to take the bait. It also wouldn’t hurt to get your number, you’re perfect. Carmen doesn’t think he’d have taken the bait, but the fact that he’s not sure speaks volumes.

David steps back into The Bear, and an Executive Chef and his dead brother’s best friend stand outside their restaurant. There’s a joke in here somewhere, and it’s probably Carmen.

“I’d fucking kill him.” You shake your head, when Mikey tries to brush off the end of his story like it’s no big deal. “I can’t believe no one fuckin’ said anything.”

“They might’ve.” He sniffs, arms crossed— Guarding himself. He sits opposite of you, both sitting on the floor of his office, backs against either wall. “But I couldn’t fuckin’ hear anything but him— And then the fucking car, obviously.”

You can tell he’s trying to move on. He wants you to ask if his mom was okay. You don’t honestly care, and you don’t care if that makes you a bad person, either. 

“You’re not nothing, Mikey.”

It’s close to midnight, a humid but cool August midnight. A week or so, since Mikey’s overdose. You’re finally christening your jumpsuit with a patch from The Beef, on the left shoulder. You do keep stabbing yourself with the sewing needle— If you were sleeping beauty you’d be fucking dead. 

“I know.”

“Mikey, you’re not.”

“Don’t fucking Good Will Hunting me.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” You both laugh, but you’re still stuck with him, at that dining table, in your head. You’re still hearing Uncle Lee screaming, despite never actually hearing it. “They should’ve said something.”

“It’s different when you’re there.” He shrugs, again. “Hard to speak in those rooms.” 

Your lips stay tight, for a moment. There’s a long silence of just staring at each other, because you want him to know that you’re completely serious when you say— “I would’ve said something.”

“Sug tried to say somethin—” “She told you to stop, that’s bullshit.” “She was mediating—”

“And why the fuck were you the one that needed to calm down, exactly?” You frown, deeply. You don’t have anything against Sug, but this story just rubs you the wrong way. The way no one was on his side verbally. “Just cause you’re the guy, means you can’t stick up for yourself? I hate that shit.”

He thinks on that, for a moment; because no one has ever said the thing out loud, never acknowledged it. He nods, tucking one knee up to rest an arm on it. “It sucks, being the guy.”

“It fucking sucks to be the guy!” You shout back, emphatic, practically jumping to agree— You jab yourself again. “Fuck, ow— Yes, it sucks.”

“And—” You’ve really opened a faucet for him. “And no one wants you to acknowledge that you’re the guy— Like you can take the compliment, but you can never say ‘I know, I’m doing it on purpose.’”

You poke at the tip of your nose with one hand and then to Mikey with the other, bang on. “No one wants the guy to know they’re the guy!”

“We always know!” “We always fucking know!” “We’re the guy on purpose!”

It’s rare for people like you two to talk and actually get along. The typical stereotype is that two sweethearts will always end up butting heads, too intimidated— But instead, you’re both just able to honestly commiserate over being who you are. The Guy. The Dependable One. The Head.

“You shouldn’t have to always be good and—and like, understanding of every single fucking person— Especially when they’re a dick!” You yell, exasperated. “You are allowed to fucking stick up for yourself!”

He tightens his lips in a line, because he agrees, but he has been so trained to lay down and take it. To take the teeth; it’s one of the many many jobs of being the guy. You know it just as well. He sighs, “I know.”

“You’re worth standing up for, Mikey.” You emphasize. They should’ve said something. It shouldn’t have been on you. You shouldn’t have had to defend yourself. They should’ve protected you, like you did for them. Like you always do for them. 

His eyes flicker, a bit. He clears his throat and punches his chest, shaking his head out of it, because if he doesn’t, he might actually fucking cry, and that’s not what the guy does. “Okay.”

You nod. “Okay.”

He kicks your foot with his. “Now tell me some fucked up thing that happened to you, Jack.”

You laugh, and it quickly turns into a groan as you try to come up with something. “I uh… Oh! I fuckin’ hate the nickname ‘Jack’, that’s something.”

“Oh?” He leans forward, teasingly intrigued— You’ve thrown him a bone, because you’re the guy, too. He’s able to focus on this in lieu of himself.

You nod and continue. “My dad gave it to me, when I was really really little, like five or six— And it was ‘cause I like— For a kid, I was really into uhm, like— Like everything?”

“Like a nerd?” “Like a nerd.”

You chuckle. “I liked helping him go on jobs, and barely being able to hold flashlights. And I liked learning what all the wires and the pipes do— I liked doing chores and like— Making shit for people, or doing shit for people, if it made ‘em happy.” You’re a little too zoned in, on your sewing. The motion helps keep you grounded. “And so he would go like Awe, my helpful little Jack of all Trades, you can do it all.”

You pull the string up and out of the fabric, taught, dramatically high. “Which like, of course he was trying to be like, a good dad and hype me up— But my kid brain just garbled it and translated ‘you can do it all’ to ‘you have to do it all.’”

“Damn.” He cringes but laughs, sympathizing. “You got ‘guy’d’ at fuckin’ five?”

“Well, when did you get ‘guy’d?!” You snap back, he takes a moment to think about it, sighing.

He shrugs. “Probably five.” “Exactly!”

You both laugh, a bit too aggressively, honestly; compensating for the sting. Mikey sniffs, adding. “So that’s why you hate it? ‘Cause of the weight?”

“‘Cause of the weight.” You nod. “Like a constant reminder, that I need to be like— constantly at service.”

“Yeah.” He nods, eyes looking down. Thinking about far too much, and though you have become his closest confidant, there are still parts of him that he won’t show. “Drinking helped?”

“Drinking helped.” You close the last stitch on the patch. “Which is funny, because that whole thing started from wanting to be helpful.”

“Oh yeah? How’s that?”

“There was uhm—” You can’t help but laugh a little, at the ridiculousness of it. “There was this girl, and she was my best friend, and she fucking loved— Or I guess still loves— Cooking. And even as a dinky little highschooler, she’d have me try shit, and it’d be like— So luxe.”

“Right.” Mikey smiles, thinking of all the dishes that have been foisted on him by the precocious cook in his life.

“And I wanted to be like… equally impressive. So I started doing research on wine pairings and shit, so I could have something to talk to her about, have somethin’ to say other than wow great job— Because I could tell she always wanted more.”

“And so you became an alcoholic?” “I haven’t gotten there yet!” “Well stop burying the lead!” “Oh don’t you point a finger when it comes to burying a fucking lead.” “Oh, fuck you.”

“Anyways!” You clap a hand on your knee, casting aside the completed sew job. “I’d give her pairings based on research— still teens, so we couldn’t drink yet, but she appreciated the thought. And then I went to college and she went to CIA and we were talking and then we graduated and suddenly we weren’t…” You knock your fist against your hand a couple times. “We weren’t talking, anymore.” 

“And so you became an alcoholic?” “Kinda.” “Oh. I was being sarcastic.” “Yeah, dontchu feel guilty as fuck now?” “What happened?”

“It was easy.” You shrug. “I started working at pubs in college, I was getting free drinks all the time, I was trying more wines for her— I didn’t really see it as a problem, because like, I didn’t do it to function, I never reached for anything like ‘oh I fucking need this.’”

“That’s how it starts.”

“That’s how it fuckin’ starts.” You nod. “Then suddenly we weren’t talking and I became an E-M-T, and then suddenly I was watching people y’know, live through the worst moment of their lives or die, and I— Suddenly I did need that drink.” You should’ve just called her. She would’ve done a lot more for you than a bottle could. But you were stupid and tired, and still are.

“Who coulda thunk it?” “I know! Ridiculous.”

“How long you been stable, again?” 

“Six months, four days… But who’s counting?” You laugh, and so does he.

You’re both very literally counting. And the buzzer of a timer going off on your phone reminds you of that. You both stare at it, in a daze, as it officially hits Twelve in the morning. Once you silence it, you look to Mikey. 

“Michael The Bear Berzatto, you have officially been sober for twenty-four hours.”

He smiles, no teeth, but he smiles. “Gimme.”

“Be patient!” “I am being the most patient a person can be.” “Yeah that’s fair.”

You opt to go for the cupcake first, a big One candle sticking out of it. “This is stupid.” Says Mikey. “Have some fucking whimsy in the face of adversity.” Says you, pulling out your disposable camera. 

“Do we need photos?” “What the fuck else are we gonna put in my folder?” “I dunno, write me sonnets.” 

“Do you want sonnets?” You ask, and the worst part is Michael can tell you’re being sincere. You would write him sonnets, if he only asked. You would do anything, if he only asked. You quit being an EMT, immediately after seeing the state he was in, last week. You are here for Michael, and he only has to ask.

He shakes his head and blows out the candle when you lift the cupcake to his face, and he makes a wish to whatever higher power exists, that he won’t drag you down with him. 

You thread a 24 Hours in Recovery chip onto the embroidery thread you were using and tie it off. When you present it to him, he bends his head down. “Chip me.”

“That’s not what chip me means.” “It means something?” “I’m pretty sure chipping someone means shooting someone—” “Well Google it, Chip.” “Well, fuck, ok— Chip?”

He shrugs, “Better than Jack, no?”

You throw the necklace over his neck, like you’re knighting him. You grow a great degree softer. Even when he’s deliberately not supposed to be The Guy, when he’s supposed to be working on himself, he’s still your guy. Still looking out for you just as much as you look out for him. He will never realize that you consider the exchange equal.

“Yeah, better than Jack.”

“This sobriety thing is going to be easy.” “ —Okay, so— The thing is, everyone kinda says that after twenty-four hours and then a week or two in, it actually hits—” “It’s gonna be so easy.” “I love that you think that and I want you to keep that hope up, I also think maybe let’s just be easy on ourselves if it gets hard—” “It’s not gonna get hard.” “That’s what she said—” “Fucking gross!”

He throws his arm over your shoulder, a loving noogie, but a noogie nonetheless. You try to hit him from below, it’s a failed flailing. You both start laughing and he stops, opting to just hold you there. You hold his forearm with your hands, and sigh.

“...Even when it’s not easy, we’re on the same team, okay? Don’t forget that. That we’re on the same team and I love you.”

He squeezes you a little, bicep curling. In fifteen seconds you will complain that he’s choking you, but right now, he says, “I’m not gonna forget you love me, Chip.” and neither of you know this is a lie, yet.

“I’m sorry.” Carmen sniffs, is he actually going to cry? Holy shit, he might cry. “I don’t know what I said—”

“You don’t know what you said?” Richie scoffs, he can’t help but laugh. “You don’t know what you fuckin’ said? Ah— It’s— It’s all good, man. You don’t know what you said, so it’s all good—”

“I’m apologizing—” “Nonono— No— It’s all good, I don’t need a fuckin’ apology. I know how you feel now, so it’s all fuckin’ good.”

“I love you—” “You love me? You love me? Oh, that would’ve been nice to hear half a fucking hour ago.”

Has it really only been thirty minutes?

“No— No, you know what?” Richie takes a choked breath, pressing his index finger over his nose and mouth, then points it to Carmen. “If that’s what your fuckin’ love is— I don’t fuckin’ want it. And I don’t want that shit for Chip, either— So leave her the fuck out of your fuckin’ love or whatever the fuck you think that is, too.”

That one hurts, because it’s true. Carmen can’t say anything to that; the silence just eggs Richie on more. “Oh, was that a low blow, to you? Cause I’d say saying it was her fault was a pretty low fucking blow— Kinda below the belt shit, if you ask me—”

“What?”

A silence louder than anything either of them have ever heard hangs in the air.

“Fuck you mean what?”

“I said what?” Carmen’s spit still feels like glass, he is destroying his throat. “What—What did I say?”

Stunned, Richie is stunned. And he can’t tell if Carm’s lack of cognizance in the situation makes him more or less angry. He’s pretty sure it’s more. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Cousin, what the fuck did I say to her?”

“You said she failed him.”

Yeah, Carmen’s gonna cry. Carmen is absolutely going to cry. Not weeping, but a tear. Just the one. Just the one, and the dry heaving. The dry heaving and just short of falling over, managing at the last minute to fall onto his rear. He slides his back against the full length window of The Bear. All the guests will get to witness his full blown meltdown. Who fucking cares. He cards through his semi-matted hair, again— It’s not fucking working. It’s not working and he might as well tear his hair out because there’s no reason for it anymore if you're not in it.

“I am a monster.” Not said like a question, not said with emphasis, not choked. Completely monotone. Zero pulse. Said as a fact as simple as the sky is blue. And it is. Because now that he remembers that one thread, he can follow it back. “I am bullshit.”

It’s hard to kick someone, when they’re down. It’s hard to say all the things you want to say to a person, when they’re just saying it about themselves. Richie just stares, debating his options. He could so easily choose to destroy what’s left of Carmen. Frankly, Carm’s sitting at the perfect angle to kick his fucking teeth in. Richie came out here with full intent of throwing Carmen through the window. Came out here with the full intent of proving he’s a fucking problem.

“...I don’t know how to fix it.” But Carmen looks up at him, with a never before seen level of humility. “How do I fix it?”

His best friend loved this guy, and unfortunately you also seem to be on the verge of loving this guy. And even more regrettably, Richie loves this guy. He shrugs, and to any onlookers, his response would seem to be lacking any level of empathy. 

“Stop being you.”

“You don’t love me!”

“Of course we fuckin’ love you!”

“You don’t fucking love me!”

Like tidal waves, Richie and Mikey crash against either side of the walk-in freezer door. Mikey desperately trying to escape the freezer; you and Richie desperately trying to keep him in. 

Your phone rings, in the middle of this. “Ah, shit, she’s calling back, hold on—” You slide your back off the door slowly, giving Richie time to place extra weight where your body was to keep it closed as Mikey relentlessly slams. He’s pivoted to screaming like— Well, a bear, now. 

You move just a few feet away— Enough to fog up the yelling, but not enough that you couldn’t run back to Richie if his arms start to numb. 

“Yo, T.” You answer, thankful that somebody has finally returned your fucking calls. To be fair, it’s painfully early— But how is no one awake an hour before they have to clock in? C’mon.

“We’re doing this because we love you, fuckin’ numb nuts!” 

“Don’t be fuckin’ mean when he’s in a vulnerable state!” You kiss your teeth, yelling to Richie behind you, just as Tina tries to say hi. 

“I am not a fucking patient, Chip!” Another slam, another violent jiggling of the door handle. You’re pretty sure that shit is going to break off one day, if he keeps doing that. You don’t know how right you are now, but you will in a year or so. “Open the fucking door!”

You only remember you’re on the phone with Tina when she pipes up, vaguely hearing the yelling on her end. “...Two week milestone going well?”

“Just fucking peachy, T.” You grimace, rubbing the space between your brows. “You think it’s healthy to lock him in the freezer? I feel like we are fucking this up.”

“Why’s he in the freezer?”

“Guess who was—” You turn your head to Richie, when you speak into the phone. “So fucking stupid— And left his fucking xanax just out in the open with his unfinished breakfast?”

“I apologized—” “You didn’t do nothin’ wrong, Cousin! Now open the fucking door!”

“Yeah, I think freezer is the right call.” Says Tina; you’re both not sure if that’s true, but at the very least when he’s in there he can’t hurt himself or either of you. But fuck, he must be cold. Maybe that’s good for his nervous system? Every yell just mounts with guilt— But you’re his sponsor now. You are not his friend right now, you’re his mentor and you’re meant to do this. This is definitely— slam— the right thing—scream—to do.

“Yeah, probably.” You nod, to no one. “Well, basically, if you can let everyone know to just— Not fucking come in, today, or at the very least not come in for like— At least three hours. Maybe six. It’s not like you can work anyways, the freezer’s off limits until further notice.”

“You sure you don’t need us to come in?”

“Ah, T, that’s a nice thought but—” You wince, as you hear a crash from inside the walk-in. “I don’t know if it’s better or worse, for more people to witness this.”

Richie can tell what the crash is, because he himself has dropped shit an innumerable number of times in that walk-in before. “—Did you just knock over the fuckin’ stock—” “Fuck yourself! Fuck yourself! This is my fucking restaurant! Let me the fuck out, Richard!”

“Let’s just say call me back in three hours.” Is what you settle on. You don’t want to see this, and you don’t want anyone else to have to see this. And when Mikey eventually comes out of his rage state, he will be glad that the only two people that actually saw him like this, are his two closest friends. “Can you let everyone else know?”

“Yeah baby, I’ll let ‘em know.” First time Tina’s called you baby with sincerity instead of sarcasm, you wish you could savour it, but you’re so distracted with everything else that you really don’t even notice it. “Keep yourself safe too, alright?”

“Okay, Mama.” You reply with what is really only half sarcasm, and let her go. You sidle up to Richie, back on holding the door closed duty. Backs against the walk-in door, holding Mikey in, despite punch after punch after punch. He’ll wear himself out, eventually, but you’re terrified about how long that’s going to take. So is Richie.

He nods to your phone. “How long?”

You don’t need to check to know. “In six hours, he’ll be at two weeks.” You wince as one of Mikey’s hits against the door very directly targets your back, putting it in knots. “But it’s not like he’s suddenly going to go, oh well it’s been two weeks so I’m normal now, though.”

Richie just nods, pensive. “M’sorry.” 

You shake your head. “I was just bein’ a bitch, we’re all getting used to it, I gettit, just try to be safer.”

He nods again, looking down at you as the beating seems to slow down. Richie tries to imagine a world where you two aren’t here right now; for some reason, he finds that universe more miserable. “We’re so fucked.” Because here it’s you two. You’re so fucked but it’s you two. It will take more than a year for you to figure out that’s how Richie feels.

“I know.” You punch back against the door, alerting Mikey— Not that he wasn’t already alert, and speak to both of them. “Same team, though!”

One last resounding body slam into the door, with everything Mikey has— It moves, just a bit, but not at all enough to open it. And then, a long silence. To the point where you and Richie look at each other, worried if Michael has somehow just died in there. But then a quiet voice speaks, like a white flag being raised. 

“Same team.”

You look to Richie for permission, he’s just as clueless as you are here, as to what the right call is. With the most trepidation one could have, you put your hand on the handle and just start to pull on it, not even close to opening it. But Mikey notices the way the hinge moves by a hair, on the other side. 

“Don’t open it.” You know he’s up to the door, just opposite of you. Not capable of looking at you; not capable of looking at him. “Six hours. It’s just six hours.”

But you can hear each other. And maybe that’s all you really ever needed. To be able to hear each other, even when he’s not here. 

“Six hours. Same team.”

“I don’t know how.” Carmen’s nose twitches. “I don’t know how to stop being fucking—Garbage— I’ve tried—” “Have you?”

It’s a bit knife twisting, from Richie, but necessary. “Have you done the work? Cause it’s— I don’t think you have, Carm.”

“...What the fuck kinda work can I do, to fix me—?” Richie snaps his fingers, pointing at Carmen, interrupting him. “That— That is the exact fuckin’ problem with you, Cousin.”

Carmen almost rolls his eyes, putting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. “What, that I’m self-aware?”

“That you just fuckin’ give up.” “I don’t just give up—” “You do! You give up and you go wah, I’m a Chef with issues and I’m gonna make it everyone else’s fucking problem—” “I am asking for help—” “Are you? Because the last person that helped you just ran out crying.”

Richie exhales, eyes closed. There’s a long forced silence, as a few tables full of patrons exit The Bear, awkwardly shuffling past what is clearly a crisis between the people that have been serving them tonight.

“That was below the belt, I’ll admit.” Says Rich, once they’re out of earshot. 

Carmen just shakes his head, though he cannot look at Richie, though he can’t refute anything. 

Richie steps next to where Carmen sits, and like an olive branch, Carmen lifts up his arm to offer his cigarette. Richie accepts, thank God— Thank you, for softening him up, because if you hadn’t, again, Carmen would be going headfirst through the fucking window right now.

“Don’t yell ‘t me—” That honestly hurts more than getting thrown through a window. “But I don’t think you got Andrea, at all.”

Andrea? Oh. “Chef Terry?” The Ever’s owner, Richie means. 

“Andrea.” Richie nods, taking a puff. “Every second counts— I don’t think you got it.”

Carmen just shrugs, shaking his head, sure, he worked there for years and Richie worked there for days, but sure, he’s the one that didn’t get it. “Yeah? What’d I miss?”

“It’s not meant to make you fuckin—” He gestures to the general form of Carmen. “Tweak. It’s not about speed or— or— like firin’ off on all fuckin’ cylinders.” 

“Then what is it?”

“It counts because it counts.” Richie hands the cig back to Carmen. “It’s— The fucking—” He kisses his teeth, trying to figure out the best way to explain. “When you took like, a million goddamn years to make that fuckin’ mont— Mont— What was it?”

“Montmorency.” Your cherry sauce. Carmen spent too fucking long reducing it, yesterday. He redid it like five times. He’d redone it so many times the autopilot in his brain fucked up that fucking plate yesterday, and it threw his entire life into a spiral. No. That's not what happened. He threw his life into a spiral.

“That was worth it, cause it— Cause it took time. Does that— Am I making any fuckin’ sense? Terry did this shit better, fuck.” Richie rubs a hand over his face, you’d probably be able to explain this better too. “It’s not the thing you’re doing that makes it count, it counts because you’re doing it.”

The value is in the time, not what is delivered. It does not need to be the most special, hyper condensed, hyper focused, upper echelon second to count. It will count because it counts. Time spent is worth it, no matter what was bought. Every second you spend, will always count. All the work and the not work and the love and the not love— It all counts. It counts because it counts. You care therefore you care. Any effort made is good effort. 

Why does Carmen keep taking eons to learn what you are always trying to tell him?

The door opens, again. Instead of more patrons, Syd steps out— Wondering where the fuck her Exec and Host have gone. “Are we good?” 

“No.” Says her Exec and Host. She nods, that’s good, cause she’s not good either. 

“Who’s runnin’ house?”

“No one.” Lies Syd, Tina’s running the back, Sweeps is running the front, but she wants to freak Carmen out a little. She grabs the cigarette from Richie. “Burn the money, I say.”

“So, what you’re asking me to do— If I’m understanding, correctly, which— I might not be— You want me to take all my money, okay, and place it in a fucking furnace? Is that right?”

“So I’m sensing—” You curl your hand in the air. “A touch of hostility, which is fair.”

Bargaining with Uncle Jimmy isn’t the easiest thing in the world— Especially when this is your first time meeting him— And you’re begging him for money. Well, helping Mikey beg him for money. 

“Listen, Uncle, please.” Mikey swallows, leaning in, elbows on the table. It’s nearly the end of January. New year, fresh start. No better time to pitch a half-baked pipe dream in the middle of The Beef’s dining room. “It’s not like I’m brand new to the restaurant gig— We turn profit, here, we can fuckin’ pay people.”

“Can you pay me?” “We will—” “Or you could just let me cut my losses—” “I wanna do something real, Uncle.”

“Why’s she here, again?” You shrink, when Cicero points at you. You swallow. 

“I’m here as… Proof… That he wants to do something real.” You have to stop yourself from doing jazz hands, doubling down on the awkwardness will not make it go away, that is sadly not how that works.

Jimmy stares, for a moment, the cogs in his brain almost audibly whirring, as he stares at the space between you and Mikey, where you sit, at the other side of the booth. “Are you having a fuckin’ baby or somethin?”

The visceral reaction from your side of the booth is immediate. The worst part is he’s not even the first one to ask something like this— No, the manager at Wells Fargo was.

“What the fuck!” “Come on, Uncle…” “Do I— Do I look like a Milf, what the fuck is going on—” “She could be my daughter!” “Alright— So that is a little far, but the sentiment—”

“Alright, shut the fuck up, what is so fucking real that I’m suddenly going to hack up—”

Mikey tosses his necklace onto the table. It shouldn’t be physically possible, because it’s on a string, but it still manages to roll for a comically long time, like a coin, over to Jimmy. To thine own self be true. One Month.

“You will not be giving your money to some fucking junkie, Uncle—”

You wave a hand, interrupting Mikey. “Verbiage.” 

He swallows and nods, taking the note. A hard lesson to learn. “You will not be giving your money to— To— You— You’re gonna give your money to someone who is trying, alright?”

Uncle Jimmy hasn’t looked up from the chip since it landed; Mikey continues. “And— And I’m gonna bring Carmy on, and we’re gonna do like—Like high level shit. Like a real fuckin’ Michelin level—”

“How many times have you gotten to a month?”

“First time.”

Jimmy frowns, crossing his arms. “How many times have you tried getting to a month?”

“Five.” Michael says, “Six.” you correct. Christmas was hard. Christmas was extremely fucking hard. You weren’t with the Berzattos, upon Mikey’s request— And neither was Carmen, upon Mikey’s ignoring him completely. And that made things a little fucking hard. 

Jimmy just nods, arms still crossed. He’s forming some sort of plan, in his head, you’re just not sure what it is yet. He looks to you. “So you’re his sponsor, then?”

“Yessir.” “Do you feel qualified to do that?” “No-sir.”

Mikey kicks you under the table, your proclivity for honesty is not doing a great job selling this whole restaurant idea. You kick him back. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to feel qualified.”

“You sober?” “Not really.” “Well that’s kind of a key factor, I’ve heard.”

You sigh and lean forward, putting your hands in your lap. This is Mikey’s Uncle— Well, is he, actually? Unsure. But he gives as much of a fuck as you do, so you spill your guts, because you know he’s poking because he’s worried that some kid is taking care of Mikey and it’s the blind leading the fucking blind. 

“I’m stable. I drink, sometimes— But never more than one glass, and never multiple days in a row. I’m coming up on a year, I still attend A-A— Though not as often as I’m told I should— And I’ve told Mikey that turbulent month long benders and a full blown decade long opioid addiction are not the same thing and I really shouldn’t be his sponsor.”

Mikey leans forward as well, then, meeting your level. “And I told Chip— And our coord— That I won’t do the program without her.”

After a long moment of silence, taking his time to digest every bit of information, Jimmy nods to the folder on the table. “N’ this?”

“It’s like a… Proposal?” You look to Mikey for help, he shrugs. This motherfucker— You’re not even a stakeholder in this, why are you talking? You turn back to Jimmy. “It’s like a promise.”

You open the folder, there’s loose sketches you’ve put together of The Bear’s signage, plus Carmen’s original piece— It was fun and weird, to work off of an artist you’ve never met before. There’s also cut outs from the New York Time’s and Food and Wine magazine showing off his award winning talents. 

“We make money now.” Mikey finally chimes in, crossing his arms. “Imagine what we could do with him.”

“It would be cool!” You wingman. A little too excited for someone who’s never even breathed in a Michelin restaurant. “It’d be cool to have, like, a fine-dining establishment on North Orleans.”

“Or you’d completely cut out the audience that already likes The Beef.”

Mikey defends, “The people don’t know what they like, yet.” while you spread out some more papers across the table, showing off screenshots of food Carmen’s texted, that Mikey has never replied to. “They will like this shit— It’s— It’s art, Uncle. When they see this, they won’t give a shit about sandwiches.”

“They’ll give a shit about the price.”

“Uncle, I’m the guy.” Mikey uncrosses his arms, straightening up his posture, because now it’s serious. “I can— We can do this.”

As you continue to spread out papers, Uncle Jimmy stops you, seeing a peculiar page in the pile. He points to it, so you fish it out and hand it to him. He squints. “Joint bank account?”

You nod. “It’s so I can keep an eye on his spending and withdrawals.” Mikey tries not to wince at the fact a kid is in charge of managing his finances. You try not to wince at the fact that despite managing his finances, he's still reset six times.

“Y’know banks are a fuckin’ scam, right?”

You do not entertain Jimmy for a second, finally losing your whimsy. Your leg is shaking underneath the table— Thank God these tables are bolted. “I know that this is the first time in twenty years that my best friend is keeping savings.” 

Not just living paycheck to paycheck, anymore. Not spending every penny on painkillers, anymore. Mikey is saving up because now there is a future to spend it on. Cicero swallows, nodding, eyes looking down, thinking deeply. 

When he speaks again, it’s to say the most insane thing you’ve ever heard. “Ten grand a week.”

Your reply is in sync with Mikey, both jumping forward in your seats. “What?”

“Every week.” Jimmy pushes the chip back to your side of the table. “Every week that you keep going, that’s ten grand.”

You flail your hand under the table, grabbing for Mikey’s— He does the same, and it’s like a contest for who’s going to break who’s hand first, with how hard you’re holding each other. 

Mikey’s first to ask the question, “Is that… Starting now or starting since I—”

“I’m so glad you asked, fuck no, that’s starting now.” He points to you, now. You flinch. “You’re gonna piss test him every fuckin’ week. I’m not fucking around about this.”

“Right. Heard.” You can only nod, because if you express anything else, it might just be screaming forever and ever. He pivots back to Mikey.

“And it’s gonna be cash— It’s not going in that fuckin’ joint, aright?” “Heard.”

“...Alright. Deal.” Cicero comes forward in his seat, and shakes Mikey’s hand. And despite not being a stakeholder, he reaches for yours, too; you shake it, and after a moment, he ruins this excitement stirring in the room, moving out of the booth. “I gotta piss, now.”

When he leaves for the bathroom, Mikey leans his head to you, putting his chin on your shoulder, whispering, “Art of the deal.”

You push his face away immediately, laughing. “Shut the fuck up! Why did you make me lead that shit!?”

Tomorrow Mikey will relapse again, and you’ll reset his necklace for the seventh time, but you don’t know that yet. Carmen’s gonna be so excited, when he finally comes back to Chicago and gets a sober brother and his dream restaurant. You’re excited to meet the guy, one day. Fingers crossed he likes you. 

“That was fucking nuts.” Sydney decides that’s the best way to surmise it. “Like more than usual.”

“I’m aware.” Carmen can only nod, and despite the fact that he’s just going to lie down and take this, it does not remove the bitter feeling in her heart at all. Syd’s fucking mad, and she wants him to know. 

“I’ve— I’ve literally only ever seen her cry like, like during Pixar movies or when we graduated. Like she just— That’s not a thing she does. I, I’m so— I literally don’t know what the fuck to do, right now.” For a second, she thinks her vision is flickering. “Oh my god, am I finally having a stroke?”

The three restaurateurs look up to see their neon white logo of a bear’s head, flickering and occasionally buzzing out. Richie’s the first to speak, as they all blankly stare at it. “Who are we gonna call, f’this?”

If this was yesterday, or maybe even if this was an hour ago, it wouldn’t be a question as to who they’d call. Carmen scratches the back of his head, the flaking hair gel is getting itchy. “Ted?”

“Who’s Ted?” Asks Syd; that’s not Tony, Terry or Tommy.

“Ted Fak.” Richie and Carmen answer at once, she almost gasps. 

“They’re multiplying?”

Richie rolls back into his memory. “There’s eight— No, fuck, nine of them— I always forget Avery.”

Sydney just nods and hugs her shoulders for warmth. They all keep staring at the flickering bear, like moths.

“I don’t—I don’t have anyone, except her, y’know?” Syd sniffs. “Like after my dad, it’s— it’s literally just her. She’s my best and only friend.”

Carmen presses the palms of his hands over his eyes, “Heard.” 

“I don’t want to choose between her and my career.” Carmen thinks she’s pausing, so he waits, but she’s not talking. That was the end of the sentence.

“Heard.”

“If that’s what getting a star takes, I don’t want it.��� That’s huge. That’s a big statement, from Syd of all people. That gets the men to turn their heads from the light to her.

Syd continues to stare at the flickering bear, which lights up the two single straight streams of tears perfectly. It’s silent. She’s not snivelling or anything, she just shakes her head in tight swivels, biting her inner cheek. “It’s just— it’s just not worth that.”

“How can I fix it?” Maybe Syd will have a better answer than Richie did, something a little more actionable. She finally flits her gaze from the light down to Carmen, where he sits. 

“Can you stay after close?”

“—Nobody in this motherfucking city knows transit etiquette— Why does everyone get on and go ‘wow I love standing in the walkway’— I’m so— There was so much seating just ahead of the blockage, Mikey, I’m so pressed, I’m literally—” You massage your brows, finishing up your rant from this morning’s commute. “I can’t. I can’t.”

“If you weren’t a little passenger princess, this wouldn’t be a problem, Chippy.” “I have my fucking license! I just don’t have a car!” “Then buy one!” “With who’s money!?” “Mine?”

A terrible running joke, from Mikey, is telling you to spend his money— The money he gets from staying sober. The money he’s saving for The Bear. The reason why he thinks this is funny, is because you have no fucking idea where he’s been putting it. But you know he hasn’t spent it, so that’s all that really matters.

You just huff, leaning back against the wall of his office as you watch him work, arms crossed and cringing as he futzes with the wiring. “You’re going to light us up like a Roman fucking candle.”

“It’s Jewish lightning—” “Top twenty-thousand reasons we do not say that— Number One—” “It’s gonna work! Just trust me!”

Mikey’s office looks a lot more lively, lately. He never cleans up the mugs of coffee you give him, every morning. He says it’s his way of tracking which flavour is his favourite, since you’re always switching up. It will never change from the chai spiced blend, and you both know that. It’d be more accurate of him to say he likes the sticky notes you tack on to each mug, saying you love him and saying he needs to keep going.

“I could fix it, y’know.” At that, Mikey turns away from his distressing handiwork to look at you. 

“I know. But I wanna prove I can, too.” 

That hits you right in the chest. You want to tell Mikey that he never has to prove anything, with you; never has to lift a goddamn finger. But he would hate to hear that. “Okay.”

You hear from outside the office, the back door opening. “Child incoming, no expletives please!”

“What the fuck is an expletive?” Mikey asks you, whispering.

You whisper back, leaning forward off the wall to close in on him. “It’s what you just did.”

Eva runs in, the way that kids do— The way they kinda waddle. Immediately up to you and Mikey. Uncle Mike and Aunty Chip, she calls you both. Sometimes Uncle Jack— Because she hasn’t completely grasped the concept of gender yet— Good, no one should.

“Watch!” You have yet to even say hi, before she immediately attempts to do a cartwheel in the middle of this very small office. 

“Good job, Evie!” You clap, after she just barely lands safely on her shins.

She nods, “Can you do that?”

“Honestly? I don’t think I can.” You look up from her to Mikey. “Can you?”

“Can I cartwheel?” He stumbles back, slapping his hand over his chest. Gutted. “Can I cartwheel? Eve— She doesn’t think I can cartwheel.”

“Insane, Uncle.”

“Not what I said!” You can’t hold back your laughter, what a shining this kid has taken to her dad. “I’d love to see it, I really would!”

Mikey just shakes his head, kissing his teeth. How dare you offend his honour, in this way? This forty-two year old man can absolutely cartwheel with the best of them. In five minutes he definitely isn’t gonna eat shit in the dining room of his restaurant. He pats Eva on the shoulder. “You go with your dad and clear out some tables out front, I’m gonna need space.” 

“You’re gonna break your neck, Mike.” Richie chimes in, standing in the doorway now, waiting for Eva to return to him. “I don’t wanna plan your funeral.”

“Please, you would plan a terrible funeral.” “That’s bull—”

“Expletive!” You cover Eva’s ears. She just laughs, looking up at you with that cute and bizarre blank kid stare. What a little patoot. 

Richie looks to you, forgetting the bit for a moment, “Y'need a grocery run, tonight?”

You nod, removing your hands from Eva, but then she holds them there. Goddamnit, kids are an awful idea but she's fucking cute. “Pay you gas money in the form of Wendy's?”

“Marone!” Richie exclaims, poorly, grabbing your face by the chin and top of your head to kiss your cheek just short of a million times. “The perfect woman—”

“Not Italian!” is the synchronous reply from you and Mikey.

Richie rolls his eyes, “Not Italian— Fu—”

Eva interrupts him, taking as much as a shining to you as she does her father. “Exp—Expultive!” She looks at you for approval and you nod in delight.

“Just go set up front, would ‘ya?” Mikey brushes Rich off, the man just rolls his eyes, picking up his daughter from you to fly her off like an airplane. 

“Let's set the stage for your Uncle’s neck injury, sweets. Bwwwwrrr—” Richie makes good airplane noises. Richie’s a good dad. You will never find a good time to tell him this. You watch Mikey’s back flex, as he cracks back into the hole of wires in the wall. He's been working hard on a lot of little things lately. 

You will not realize he is trying to make things clean and square, until it is too late. Right now, you’re just happy, because, “You’re already at three weeks again, and you haven’t even noticed.”

“Oh, I fucking noticed.” He doesn’t face you, when he says it, but it’s with a hearty chuckle. He’s noticed it violently, he’s just getting very good at the first month, now— Well acquainted with the burn out. “But now there’s money on the line, I can’t lose.” 

It’s not that money’s on the line. It’s that his brother is on the line now. And Mikey couldn’t do this for himself— but the guy could do it for his brother. So he’ll just be the guy, that’s what the guy’s do. Six hours, same team. Nine weeks, Mikey, come on.

“Well you’re doing good, I’m proud of you.” 

“You believe in me?” He says it like he doubts your conviction. You nearly punch him in the back of the head.

“Of course I believe in you.”

Mikey bites his inner cheek, though you can’t see his face. “...Why are we keeping the candles?”

Ah. You’ve still got the one and two candles in his drawer with a lighter, ready for the next cupcake. They’re slowly but surely melting with each reset, eventually they’ll be incomprehensible. Do you believe in me? If you do, why are you saving them? Do you think we’ll need them? That’s what Mikey’s asking. You scoff. 

“You’re so stupid.” “What the— I confide in you and I get this—”

You interrupt him, arms crossed. “One day, one week, one month, one year, fuckin— When we get to double digits? Ten months? One decade?”

He’s mum, at that. You add. “We’re getting our fucking mileage out of these candles, Mikey. I believe in you.” You think Mikey has a future, still. Mikey knows he doesn’t. He changes the subject because if he doesn’t, he’ll tell you everything and you will stop it.

“I want you to start talking to Carmen, when he comes back.” You should’ve asked Mikey why he was so certain Carmen would be coming back. But you weren’t smart enough. 

“What the fuck?” You snort. “Okay, out of literally nowhere—” “You’d like him.”

“He sounds very nice.” “He’s not. He’s a—” “Ball buster, yes, you’ve told me.” “He’d like you.” “Why?” “Cause you’re you.”

“Wow, pretty inarguable there.” You can only smile, unable to see the wheels turn in Michael’s head. “Guess we’ll be besties.”

“I meant talk like talk—” “Are you trying to hook me up right now?” “He’s a virgin, so it’s definitely not a good deal for you—” “And— And why are we talking about your brother's sex life— Did we already explode and this is hell?” “I just want you to be prepared for what you’re getting into, he gets performance anxiety so—” “Mikey!”

“You’ll talk to him?” Mikey turns away from the wall, wanting you to look him in the eyes and promise him.

You shake your head and roll your eyes, but stick a hand out for the Berzatto to shake. “Yes, Bear, I’ll talk to your virgin Michelin star ranked brother.”

“Thank you! I ask for so little.”

After close, after everyone but Carmen, Sydney, and Richie leave, the three make plans to meet in Michael’s office. Carmen will go in ahead to hide your folder because he doesn’t want to see it himself and he absolutely doesn’t want anyone else to see it. Even if one of them could very well explain it, because he’s fucking in them. It’s fine. He looks at your wrapped up painting in the corner of his office. Carmen considers for what feels like a decade, whether or not he should open it. But he hasn’t earned a gift from you, so he doesn’t— Not for now, at least. He hasn’t earned your art right now. 

Underneath your ICE folder is his notepad— The one he was scribbling recipes for his Exec into, the one he scribbled your recipe into, and underneath all that torn up paper— His list, from this morning. The non-negotiable rules he wanted— Wants? To add to The Bear. There’s twenty-seven. Half of them are spelt wrong as he wrote them while absolutely losing his shit, this morning. This list did not go over well, when it was proposed during family, at two in the afternoon. Some of these could still work though, right? At least the technique and the boxes and the—

Richie comes in, not knocking, and immediately spots the list. “Oh good.” He grabs the notepad and rips off the twenty seven points. Leaving only the title, NON-NEGOTIABLES. 

“Come the fuck on—” Says Carmen. Richie rolls his eyes, tossing the list onto the desk. Richie can tear him and his stupid fucking list a new one another time— Richie and Carmen can sort out their own part of the fight in a week, when they take a twelve hour road trip. Right now though, they are both completely focused on you. 

Sydney comes in with two labelled deli containers of coke. Time codes and everything, she can't turn it off. She hands one to Rich, the other one is for herself. That’s fine, soda on Carmen’s shredded throat really wouldn’t be great right now anyways. She takes a sip, looking over Carm's shoulder. “Oh, we’re doing a real list, now?”

Carmen just sighs, letting the dig go, because he deserves it. He clicks his pen, sitting down, ready to write, without hesitation. “Go.”

Richie leads, “You need to fucking relax.”

“Lay off her,” Sydney waves her hand over her neck. “Leave her the fuck alone, for like a week, minimum.” 

“No— What? No— You should call her like now—” “Absolutely not the right move—” “Solve it hard and fast—” “Why hard—?”

“I’m just gonna wait.” Carmen decides, typically Syd is the right one, anyways. Plus if he hears your voice right now he might throw up and he doesn’t have your tums, anymore. “Next?”

“An exorcism.” Richie doesn’t laugh, when he says it. “Also read fuckin’ Runnin’ on Empty— By Doctor Webb.”

The two cooks just look at him, like Richie’s grown five thousand heads. He groans before they even say anything. “I’m fuckin’ well read, shut the fuck up— It’s—” He snaps his fingers, pointing to Carmen’s list, “It’s an audiobook, too, on fuckin’ Spotify— Listen to that shit on your commute you have no excuse.”

“Yes, Chef.” Carmen writes it down, he also writes down under things to look into, catastrophizing, while he’s at it. Richie watches over his shoulder, and adds, “Look into sublimation and behavourial dysfunction.” 

Syd’s still reeling over the sudden character growth. “You need to relax with the self-help books.”

“Yeah, well you need to read Mark Wolynn’s ‘It Didn’t Start With You.’” Richie’s got lists of books now, instead of zingers. They somehow hit harder.

She’s got no come back for that other than a surprised pout and nod, taking her own phone out to write it down. “Yes, Chef.”

Carmen pipes in, not looking up from his list of to dos “Should I also read that one—” “Yes.” “Heard, Chef. Next?”

“It cannot be on Tony to be your fucking punching bag. If you’re tweaking— Keep that shit between you and your therapist—” Syd switches from her notes app to search, “We’re finding you a fuckin’ therapist.”

“Is that covered in our contract?” Didn’t he write it? Carmen doesn’t know.

“Doesn’t matter. Also I don’t know, but doesn’t matter.” Syd hasn’t read it yet. She also doesn’t know.

You are worth a couple out of pocket fees. Well, more importantly, Carmen is worth a couple out of pocket fees— Well, alright, he’ll discuss his weaknesses of self-prioritization with the therapist. 

Before Carmen can even say next, Richie adds. “Also you smell like shit.” The hair gel is pungent in a bad way.

And before he can defend himself, Sydney adds, not looking up from her phone, “We’re going to fuckin’ Kohl’s after this and we’re getting you a skincare— And haircare— routine. You’re seconds away from breaking out, I bet you use fuckin’ Palmolive dish soap.”

“Well— I’ve been using Tony’s, actually—” “We know.” It’s a completely synchronized interruption. 

“It’s been her signature scent, since highschool.” “Who do you think took her grocery shopping when she didn’t have a car?” “I thought I was having a flashback everytime you walked by in the kitchen, this past week.” “You should go back to it.”

“I know. I will.” He’s got every intention of re-upping on your shampoo and conditioner, when he’s taken on a shopping spree to get his shit together. Hopefully you won’t mind him copying you. “No more Five in One.”

“You’ve been using fucking five in one!?”

Carmen thought, yesterday, naively, that he would do right by you on Friday. He didn’t, he did the very opposite— But even if he did, that’s weak shit. Carmen’s not gonna do right by you for just one single fucking day. Carmen’s gonna do right by you, for the rest of his life. The three get to well over twenty seven points, and he has every intention of showing up to it. He’s gonna be your man, and he’s going to fucking earn that title. He’s going to prove it.

“Okay. So can you tell me what happened on February 22nd?” She’s a shit therapist. You’re imagining both you and her dead in your head. You’ve been imagining a lot of people dead in your head, for the last two weeks. Every time your dad comes to check on you, you imagine that he’s a ghost. 

You imagine having a passing conversation with someone, maybe catching up with Syd, one day. And she’ll ask you ‘Meet any interesting people?’ and you’ll say ‘Yeah. But he killed himself.’ That’s gonna suck. You didn’t prepare for that one. So you need to prepare now. Look at all of your friends and family, and imagine they are dead— And introduce them as such. ‘That’s my friend Richie, he died.’ Make it hurt now, so it doesn’t hurt then. 

You didn’t prepare enough. Didn’t do enough. Countless little mistakes and moments you missed. The therapist is looking at you, oh right, it’s your turn to talk again. You’ve told her all these cute little stories but now she wants to hear how the sad shit went. Or maybe it was all sad shit. Maybe it’s all coated in a film of grief, now. 

You’ll tell her that Mikey was very thorough, with his plan that you didn’t know about. He waited until he thought you were out of the city— When he knew you’d be out of the city. When your sister in law delivered your nephew and you went to Oak Park to visit. 

Just days before, you celebrated three months of sobriety with him and Richie— You’ll tell the therapist, excitedly, that this was his longest streak so far, it took him a year to reach three months— It was a big fucking deal. You were beaming all day. You didn’t realize, however, that days after Uncle Jimmy had made his deal with you two, that Mikey did the math. Figured out exactly how many weeks he’d have to be sober, to get three-hundred grand. 

Thirty weeks. Roughly seven months and two weeks. He did it. Not in sequence, but he did it. You’re still not sure where that money is. Uncle isn’t either. Maybe Carmen will figure it out. It’s meant for him anyways. You’ll say that Carmen will figure it out in such a way that she asks— “And do you hold animosity? Towards his younger brother?”

You look at her like she’s a psycho, because she is. Replying incredulously, “I don’t fucking know him.”

‘My best friend Michael is dead.’ ‘My best friend, Mikey, is dead.’ Doesn’t sound right. Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue. 

“Do you wish you did?”

“I really couldn’t say I give a shit, ma’am. Can I tell you about the guy I did know, though?”

She nods, you roll the fuck on. You tell her that the morning after you got to your brother’s place— February 22nd, you all decided instead of staying for the week, as you’d planned, as Mikey planned, you’d instead go home early. Because as much as you wanted to be helpful, having more people in the house was stressing the new mom the fuck out. Understandable. So you took a train back to Chicago early. 

You got home, and you found that you’d gotten some mail, waiting for you on the floor, shoved through the mail slot of your door. Bill, bill, invoice, spam, coupons, handwritten envelope— Ah. Mikey’s handwriting. A deep unsettling feeling burrowed its way into you. It just says For Chip. There’s no letter inside. No. There’s a debit card, his, of your joint bank account, there’s a key, yours, a copy of your key to this apartment, and a necklace, his— With his three month sobriety chip hanging off of it. 

You call him, immediately. He doesn’t answer the first time. You call him again. He answers on the last possible ring. 

The inciting incident, the thing that pulls you in, and permanently alters the trajectory of your life—                Is honestly quite boring, because it’s just a phone call with an old friend.

“Yo, Ice-y!” A classic nickname, reserved purely for phone calls with Mikey. Because in his phone, you’re 0ICEChip, so you’ll show up at the top of his contact list, if he’s ever found unresponsive. Typically a pro-tip reserved for those in hospice care.

You don’t entertain him. “Where are you?”

“I’m just out for a walk, sweetheart.” “Shut the fuck up out for a walk— Where the fuck are you?”

He hums at your snarky tone. “Nephew didn’t take a liking to you?” “I came home early.”

The silence is long, and you can hear the heavy wind coming through his phone. He’s outside. He’s somewhere outside. It’s a cold night. It’s usually not this cold at the end of February, but it really fucking came down, this morning. 

“Oh.”

“Why did you leave this shit at my door? Where are you?” You thought of 0ICE but you didn’t think to have him turn his location on? Fucking idiot. Fucking idiot. You didn’t do enough. ‘My friend, Bear, is dead.’ You didn’t prepare enough. “Bear, c’mon, what’s going on? I told you, if we need to reset, it’s two steps forward, one step back, it’s okay—”

“It’s not.” “It is! We will get there!” “I’m not. You’re gonna get there, I’m not.” “That’s not true!” “I love you but we both know this was a pipe dream.”

“Mikey—”

“Chip, I’m not going anywhere. You’re— You’re fucking going somewhere. I can’t— I can’t let— We both know where I’m going and it’s nowhere you should begin to be.”

“You don’t get to make that choice for me. You don’t get to make that call. I decide what I bet on— Mikey, where are you?” You’re walking out of your place, you hadn’t even closed the door before leaving again.

Fucking idiot, you should’ve bought a car. How are you supposed to get to him on foot and train? Fucking idiot. The snow is beating down, the wind is cutting into your face. ‘My best friend died on February 22nd. On the State Street Bridge.’— Why didn’t you get a fucking car? You didn’t do enough. You can’t remember any of your training, right now. What are you supposed to say? “Are you using?”

“No. No. I’m— This is me, Chip.” “No it’s fucking not, Mikey! Shut the fuck up, where are you!?”

“I love you, I didn’t want this to be— I-I—I’m not killing myself, Chip.”

“You’re not?”

You shouldn’t have believed him. You should’ve just kept walking. You would’ve figured out where he was, eventually. You should’ve called the coast guard, or some shit. Should’ve just figured it out.

“I’m not. I’m— I’m okay, I’m really just going for a walk— I-I just— I had a… I— I don’t want you to be my sponsor anymore. That’s it.” It made sense. He didn't want you to feel hurt, so he was hesitant. It made sense.

“Why?”

“Cause you’re a kid, and I can’t make you responsible for what I do.”

“I’m not a kid.” “To me, you are.” “Then we’ll find you someone else.” “Yeah, okay.”

You pause, for a good bit, listening to the shakiness of his breath. “You’re cold, Mikey.”

“I’m okay.”

“You’re just cold.” That’s all that’s wrong. He’s just cold and he doesn't want you to be his sponsor anymore. “Go inside, soon. Come home.”

“I will.”

Mikey always had that way of making you think everything was going to be okay, even when it wasn’t. “Okay.”

“I want you to start treating our joint like an advanced payment, by the way. A million things are always fucking breaking at The Beef, there’s no point in wiring all the time.”

Mikey wants this to be clean and square, too. Because he couldn’t figure out the wiring by himself— He needs to make sure his baby brother is taken care of, he needs to make sure his restaurant is taken care of, he needs to make sure that you have something to do because Michael fucking saw you. 

“Yeah, that makes sense.” You nod to no one. “I think your toilets fucked, speaking of.” You laugh, everything’s okay. There’s a long silence, and you think he’s hung up. 

“Good. Okay— You should— You should come fix it, sometime soon… Love you, Chip.”

“Love you, Bear.”

You will tell your therapist that after that phone call, you went back inside, cleaned yourself up, unpacked unused toiletries, changed out of your borrowed brother’s sweats into your nice pajamas, because Mikey said he would come home. He said he would come home and you believed him because he never lied to you before. You set up the things he left for you in your handmade clay dish tray; so he can take them back. Just because you’re not his sponsor, doesn’t mean he shouldn’t keep his chips. 

You will tell your therapist that you fell asleep on the couch, waiting for Michael. You will tell her you woke up to a phone call from Richie, and all he said, wavering, was, “You should come over.” Richie doesn’t ask things. Richie will always say, come over. You don’t know why that’s the signal you get, since you seemingly must have missed so many other obvious signs, but you know then that your— Your— Your best— Fuck, the knots are fucking debilitating, fuck fuck fuck. 

You will not come over. You will walk, in the cold, to your dad’s place. You will not bring anything with you. You will stay there and rot for two weeks, as will everything in your apartment. He will force you to go to this several hour long therapy appointment because he can’t keep watching you do this, and you will resent the woman you are telling all this. 

You will continue to see her, for five more sessions, because the first six are covered under your insurance. She will help in a lot of ways, she will hurt in others.

Wells-Fargo will ask if you want to close your account. You don’t want to, but it’ll accrue monthly banking fees, so you take the money out and close it. You buy a shitty maroon 2004 Dodge Intrepid off Facebook Marketplace with the two and a half grand. It barely functions as a car. But it will drive. The next time someone needs you. You can drive. Next time you’ll think of everything, next time you won’t fail.

You stop paying the phone bill, for your business line. It goes defunct. You just don’t think you should be trusted to be helpful, for the next little while. You will blame your father for this, when people ask about it.

On the day of his funeral, you will go. You will go, and you will sit on the curb across from the church, and you will not go inside. It's just not possible. You will buy a pork chop-cheese sandwich from a bodega nearby and you will eat it on that curb and it’s only then, after shoving it down for so long, that you will scream and cry.

You will leave before anyone sees you, and you will go to State Street Bridge, and you will set up a small vigil. You will finnick with the candles and the flowers until you feel they are perfect. They will never get perfect. You just don’t want to leave. You have a tendency to do that. 

You will stare at the little stuffed bear, the roses, the picture frame of him, and you will finally say it aloud. 

“My best friend, Mikey, died.”

When Carmen shows up, two hours later, not honestly that long after you finally left, he will add a bouquet and a prayer candle. He will readjust all of your work, to his preference, and then readjust it again and again and again— and he will finally say it aloud. 

“My brother, Mikey, shot himself.”

No matter how you say it, it won’t roll off the tongue.

And about thirty-nine weeks from that day, you will be in New York, at a wedding, talking with the virgin Michelin star ranked brother, as you promised.

You will have abandoned your bar after making confessions under the counter, and have instead co-opted the single stall gender-neutral bathroom to have ample time and space to tell each other everything you’ve told your therapists. Even now, neither of you can get the words to roll off the tongue. 

But Carmen manages to make “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry— I will never be able to surmise, how sorry—” roll off well enough. Alas, he’s interrupted, by a knock on the gender-neutral bathroom door, made by the only fuckers that knows you two are in here. 

“Guys I— Guys I don’t know how to run bar, and I don’t think I should’ve been trusted, with this.”

Carmen will not look away from your bleary-eyed face, he will not break his focus even when you laugh at the sudden tension break. He will just tell the Faks to fuck off and figure it out.

“I’m gonna fix it.” Carmen will tell you, and you will nod and say, “I will too.”

Because it’s not just on one of you, anymore. It can be both. The shared burden. The shared grief. No more fucking shoes, because it's all out now.

It’s not negotiable.

I love when tumblr drafts fully start to lag and my macbook lights on fire because the post is too fucking long. I have so much to say about this chapter but I think I will just make a separate post entirely about this. Because I’m. I’m really proud tbh not to toot my own horn but I think I kind of maybe a little bit ate with this one. 

Fun fact, that you may or may not believe: The Carmen scenes? Not planned. Fully did not plan to do any of that. This was going to be entirely Mikey flashbacks, originally— There might’ve ended up being more honestly, if I didn’t add Carmen, but after Something to Do when I started writing I was like,,, these cats aren’t cooking, Carmen’s side is missing a second beat before the third. And so, here it is. 

I know everyone was expecting a depression week for Carmen— And to be fair, I also kind of was. But I then thought, nah. They’d done too much work, and I don’t think Rich/Syd would allow him to wallow. Like get your shit together, not for you, for her. Ugh. 

Speaking of Rich and Syd— FUCK man my heart. The way their scenes from the past and present meshed together in such a deeply painful way I’m sooo SICK WITH IT!!! WHAT DID YOU THINK?!?!! Just fuckin— The way Tony was too scared to reach out to Syd but it’s SO FUCKING OBVIOUS that Syd was on the other side of Chicago thinking the exact same shit i’m SO SICK!!!!! I’M HACKING UP A LUNG HERE!!

Anyways it’s my birthday send me well wishes and an essay on what you thought I’d love to hear it. I know this was a tough one. Thank you for getting through it with me lmao. Tag list! Hope I didn’t forget anyone, pwease note i ownwee add pweople who swend theiw twoughts— It also may or may not hurt my feelings when people don’t read this text at the bottom. It might. It might a lot.

@anytim3youwant @navs-bhat @whoknowswhoiamtoday @gills-lounge @slut4supersoldiers @sinceweremutual @itsallacotar @catsrdabestsocks101 @popcornpoppin @renaissance-painting @lostinwonderland314 @v0ctin @ashtonweon @sharkluver @fridavacado @hoetel-manager @mrs-perfectly-fine

Next Part

[lunaroserites]

Art and Ice - New Perceptions

Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Loki, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, a lot of the avengers cast is mentioned.

Summery: This kinda a filler chapter, some cute fluffy moments between Bucky and Doodle happen.

This might a 2 or 3 parter (it's gonna be more because cannot help myself). College AU, our boy Bucky is on the hockey team, and reader is an art major (because I love that trope and couldn't help myself)

Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Friends fluff, swearing, mentions of college students being college students. Bit of friendly harmless flirting between friends. Bucky is a playboy. Flirting. Mentions of not eating or drinking for a hours (ADHD Brain)

Word Court: 3539

Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! ❤️

Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, without my express permission, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3

Catch up here: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

It wasn’t a surprise that your college finished out the regular season on top. Your college was known across the country for its sports programs. 

It didn’t surprise you when Bucky showed up with a bright cocky smile the day after the last away game. “Ooooh Doodle!” He said in a sing-song voice. 

You looked over your shoulder setting the paint brush down, raising an eyebrow at him, “yeeees Bucky?” You matched his tone perfectly. With all the away games you haven’t seen him since the weekend, you have made some decent progress on the painting of him. You were giddy to show him what you completed in his absence. 

“Guess who scored a date with Mandy, the head cheerleader?” He was beaming. Your heart sank momentarily, your facial expression dropping slightly before you composed yourself and gave him your best dazzling smile. 

“I’m not sure Buck, I’ve always been terrible at guessing games,” you murmured, trying to hide the discontent in your voice as you looked back at the canvas to compose yourself. He didn’t seem to pick up on your change in mood. 

“Ah come on Doodle, I’ll give you a hint. He’s charming, on the hockey team and incredibly sexy,” he sounded so cock sure. 

You turned to face him and tapped the end of the brush on your lip, feigning that you were deep in thought and then a bright smile split across your face. 

“Oh! I know who it is,” you said excitedly. “Sam!” You faked enthusiasm before turning back to the painting but not before catching his face drop for a moment. 

“Pfft, he’s about as charming as an out of tune piano,” Bucky deflected. “Come on Doodle, it’s easy.” 

“They’re easy huh?” You mused. “So must be you then,” you said flatly without missing a beat. He laughed awkwardly behind you. 

“Uh, yeah it’s me,” his cocksure attitude was gone and he sounded a little deflated. 

“That’s nice Buck, have fun,” you said quietly. 

“It’s not until tomorrow night,” he said, “I wanted to come hang out with you tonight,” your heart clenched and you bit your knuckle to stop the pang of hurt that threatened to crush you, you didn’t trust your voice at the moment so you just nodded. 

“How much of the painting have you done?” He asked quickly, changing the topic. You were grateful. “Last time I saw it you just had some base colours on.” 

You had the puck almost done, you were painting as if the puck was being shot at the person viewing it. Slightly different from your original idea, but you liked how it was turning out. Bucky was now standing next to you and you could smell the deep woody and amber tones of his cologne. He always smelled good, even after playing a game or practice. It was something you appreciated about him, Thor would smell like a locker room after practice. It was awful. 

You quickly focused back on the canvas and not how much you wanted to stick your nose into the crook of Bucky’s throat and inhale the heady scent he wore. This little crush was getting out of hand, you needed to squash it quickly. 

“That looks amazing, Doodle,” Bucky said in awe as he looked at the painting. “How do you make it seem so real?” 

“Practice, and a little luck,” you said with a shrug. Bucky moved out of the way when you picked the brush up and started to work on it again. “The inspiration was also a big help,” you looked over your shoulder at him and winked. He gave you a dazzling smile back. “What are you doing today?” He had pulled some books and notes out on the table and was staring down at them. 

“I’m studying for my astronomy final,” he said, his tongue caught between his teeth. His arm crossed over his chest and the other hand held his chin as he looked down at his notes. 

“Mind if I put some music on?” He hummed and you clicked the play button and let the music wash over you. You got to work, getting lost in the music and the brush strokes. 

The soft notes of Work Song by Hozier played soothingly over the speaker and you hummed softly along to the song and swayed gently back and forth. You jumped when you felt Bucky’s hand cup your shoulder and slide down your arm clasping your hand in his. 

“Can’t have a pretty thing like you dancing by herself,” he said softly. He pulled you to him and started to sway you two gently to the beat. Your heart was racing a million miles a minute, your cheeks were a bright shade of red as you hid your face against his firm chest. 

He moved you two effortlessly, he guided you in a small sway. He was smiling down at the top of your head as you leaned your cheek to his chest. His hand held the small of your back gently to him. 

You couldn’t believe this was happening, he was dancing with you randomly. It was completely out of the blue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain. He was firm and warm under your touch. He held like you were as fragile as blown glass, his touch feather light and respectful. You usually hated dancing but something about this moment felt right. 

As the song came to close and Bucky took a step back from you, you started to miss the contact as quickly as you lost it. He was smiling down at you and kissed you knuckles of the hand he had been holding at the time. “Thank you for the dance m’lady,” he tipped his chin and gave you a devilish smile. You couldn’t find words to express who you felt at the moment. 

“Thank you kind sir,” you stuttered back. He laughed his beautiful rich as chocolate laugh and made his way back to his studying and you went back to your painting feeling lighter than before. The pit in your stomach growing deeper, you could still feel his warm hand on your waist and the way he held you so carefully.

“Loki I don’t know what I’m going to do,” you whined as you draped over his lap dramatically. You had texted him “code red” before you left the art studio, Bucky had offered to drop you off at your apartment but you declined like you usually did. Code red meaning ‘I need you please come get me.’ Which he did without hesitation. 

“Darling you’re being a little dramatic,” he ran his fingers through your hair trying to sooth your nerves. 

“Loki, I’m not being dramatic. We had this whole conversation about just being friends and spending time together without him waiting to get me in bed,” you exclaimed. 

“Which he probably still does,” Loki added, you glared at him. 

“Not the point, how can that conversation mean anything if I can’t even hold myself to it,” you said in an exasperated tone. “Loki, he danced with me, out of the blue. Just took my hand and danced with me,” you peaked up at Loki who was running his long fingers through your hair, he had an unreadable expression. “Who does that nowadays, it’s something my grandpa would do with nana.” 

“Little brother,” Hela’s sing-song voice called as she poked her head into the room. “Oh hello sweetling! I didn’t know you were visiting,” she smiled at you. You had always liked Helena, she was always nice to you. She gave Loki and Thor shit when we were teens and they were acting like typical teenage boys, insensitive and immature. She looked you over, draped over Loki’s lap, your arm thrown over your eyes. You looked miserable, she entered the room further and sat down on the edge of Loki’s bed and gently touched your shoulder. 

“What’s the matter sweetling,” she asked soothingly. 

“Nothing Hela, stupid feelings and a crush a stupid boy,” you whined. She laughed at that. 

“Men tend to be like that, this is why I like women,” she chuckled. “Seriously sweetling, it can’t be that bad, who is it?” She asked softly. Her eyes drifted to Loki for a moment and he made a face. 

“Bucky Barnes,” you groaned. Hela’s eyes widened and she groaned. 

“You’re telling me you’re upset over that overgrown toddler on skates?” She asked with a raised eyebrow, you looked at her, god she was so pretty. You nodded and sighed heavily. 

“I know, I know. He’s just so.... Ugh.” Loki chuckled and Hela glared at him. She grabbed your hand and rubbed her thumb over your knuckles soothingly. 

“You know a couple years back he tried asking me out. I rejected him. He called me a stuck up bitch,” she said, you raised your arm off your eyes and looked at her. “He wouldn’t even let me tell him I had no interest in men, especially younger men.” You nodded and that was what Loki meant when he was rude to Hela. “He later saw me with Val on a date. He felt like an idiot and apologised for how he acted.” 

“He did?” Loki asked, he sounded surprised. Hela nodded. 

“He learned his lesson. Learned a few things too. From my understanding he’s not as pushy as he used to be,” Hela added. “Shame what happened with his girlfriend and her sudden departure to Alaska. He was apparently a lot different when she was here. She broke his heart. It doesn’t excuse his behaviour but it definitely gives perspective.” 

“You know Nat mentioned that he had a long term relationship that suddenly ended,” you said back, thinking back. 

“Val knew her better than I ever did, she apparently just packed up and left. No explanation, not warning. She was just gone. Barnes was devastated,” Hela said thoughtfully. 

“Huh, well that definitely adds perspective,” you agreed. 

“It doesn’t excuse his behaviour though,” Loki reiterated. You and Hela nodded in agreement. 

“What should I do?” You asked Loki after Hela left. He sighed and looked down at you, eyes swimming with uncertainty. 

“I’m not sure darling, if you told him what do you think would happen?” Loki asked softly. 

“He would probably pick up on trying to sleep with me again,” you groaned. 

You ended up spending the night at Loki’s house with him, falling asleep on his bed. 

“You know, it's a good thing you don’t share a bed with anyone,” Loki shoved you away from the centre of the bed. “You’re a fucking bed hog,” you couldn’t help but laugh at his groggy disgruntled voice. 

“Apologies Loki,” you laughed as he huffed. 

“Bull shit,” he exclaimed while standing up and going into his ensuite bathroom. You stood and leaned against the door frame while Loki pulled a brush through his hair and did his skin care routine. “Do you want me to bring you home so you can change and stuff? 

“I would appreciate it,” you smiled at him. 

“Morning Wands,” you called as you came through the front door, Loki right behind you, he grabbed your coat and hung it up as you pulled it off. 

“In here,” she called out as the toaster popped. You and Loki walked into the kitchen together. “Morning Loki,” she gave him a dazzling smile, which he returned. 

“I’m making cinnamon toast and eggs, hungry?” She asked. 

“I’d love some, I’m going to grab a quick shower and change.” 

“Princessa!” Peitro wrapped you in a hug tightly as he walked behind you and snagged a piece of toast off your plate. 

“Get your own,” you batted his hand away. 

“But I want yours,” he teased. You heard Wanda and Loki chuckle at you both. 

“I have a plate for you too, stop stealing hers,” Wanda ushered him over. 

“What plans do you have today?” Wanda asked as she sat down next to you. You looked to Loki, it was his turn to plan the Saturday plans. 

“The new book I’ve been waiting on is finally here so we have to stop by the bookstore in town,” Loki said, “then I think we’ll drive up the coast, we need pictures for our photography class.” You smiled at him, so thoughtful. “Then maybe some dinner and a stroll through the park,” he finished. 

“God Loki you’re making me look like a terrible boyfriend,” Pietro whined, you snorted into your juice and leaned back laughing loudly. 

“Maybe you should take notes,” Loki teased. You and Wanda were laughing together. Loki was an incredibly thoughtful friend. That’s why you adored him so much. But that’s where it ended. You two were the best of friends and that was where the line was drawn  and there was never a need to cross it. It took time for people to understand your friendship and the boundaries you two had in place. 

“Sounds like a fun day,” Wanda said thoughtfully. 

“What about you Wands? Vis is still abroad isn’t he?” She nodded at your question. 

“I’m going to practise with Pietro, it’s a nice day to be out in the sun,” she answered. “Vis gets back next week.” 

“I had fun today,” you said softly as you and Loki walked through the park after having supper at a sweet little Mexican restaurant. Loki had his hand on the small of your back guiding you and keeping you close. 

“I did too,” he hummed. You two walked around a little more, taking a seat on a bench to watch the setting sun. You looked out over the green space and saw some couples sitting in the grass relaxing. One couple caught your attention. 

“Is that bucky?” You said quietly, tipping your head in his direction. Loki squinted and nodded. 

Bucky was sitting a little ways away leaning back on his hands. Mandy sat next to him completely ignoring him. Something twisted in your heart as you looked at him looking up at the sky and she was scrolling her phone. Loki rubbed your shoulder soothingly. Drawn back to him you gave Loki a sad smile. 

“She probably just wants to sleep with him,” Loki whispered. You nodded in agreement. 

“He likes space a lot. He’s talking to her and she is not even pretending to listen,” it broke your heart. Soon his date leaned over and they got up from their spot. He trailed behind her as they waltzed across the green space toward Bucky’s truck. You watched him follow after her like some love sick puppy. 

But then for a brief moment his eyes connected with yours. His eyes narrowed in on you and he paused for the briefest moment as he looked at you across the field. You couldn’t place the look in his eyes, but it was something akin to longing, maybe you couldn’t be sure. As soon as it started it ended and Bucky was gone with Mandy into his truck. 

“Darling,” Loki’s smooth voice filled your ears and you looked at him. “You okay?” You nodded and sighed. 

“I think so,” you mumbled while shaking your head to clear it. 

You didn’t see much of Bucky over the next few days, practice and studying seemed to completely take over his days. He would text you little updates, ask how your day was going, remind you to drink and eat snacks. Your phone going off startled you out of the trance you were in. 

It was a FaceTime request from Bucky. You slide the answer button and gaze at him with a quizzical look. “Hello,” you chuckled, propping the phone on the easel. 

“Hey doodle,” his hair was wet and he was shirtless, you tried to not look at his shoulders. “Miss me?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you. 

“Like a toothache Bucky,” you mused. Your shirt rode up as you stretched your arm to reach up on the canvas. Your phone left you a perfect anglee for Bucky’s eyes to follow the now revealed skin. You didn’t catch him licking his lips at you. 

“I’m hurt doodle,” he feigned hurt and clutched his hand over his heart being dramatic which made you laugh. There was a sudden knock on the art studio door, you looked over your shoulder and then back at the phone. Bucky was trying really hard to not look suspicious. 

“What did you do?” You asked as you grabbed the phone and opened the door, you looked down and he shrugged. Opening the door you were greeted by a delivery driver. You raised an eyebrow and squinted at him. 

“Delivery for Doodle?” The driver said, he looked completely over the day and didn’t bat an eye at the nickname. 

“I didn’t order,” you looked down at your phone and were met with Bucky’s shit eating grin. “You cheeky bastard,” you accused him. “Thank you,” you took the food and sat down at the table in the art room. 

“Thanks Bucky,” you were touched. He had ordered your favourite, everything completely how you liked it. You had only ever ordered this once in his presence, weeks ago. He remembered. “You even remember the extra sauce,” you could feel tears well up in your eyes from how sweet of a gesture it was. You quickly rubbed the tears away and smiled at him. 

Everyone in your life had been so busy you barely spoke to them, Bucky had been the most consistent person by far. You didn’t blame the others, you had barely kept in touch being swapped with final projects and finals. Everyone was just busy. The fact he took the time to send you food, made your heart soar. 

“I figured we could eat together,” Bucky said as he sat up and positioned the phone so his hands were free and you could see his full torso and face. You almost choked on air seeing him. He was fucking hot, you stoped the that train of thought immediately and looked at his face and not his peaks or squishy tummy. He was a big dude, firm but soft looking. You wanted to run your fingers over his torso. 

“I’d like that,” you were impressed with how composed you sounded in that moment. 

“How’s the projects going?” He asked. You shrugged and sighed. 

“They're going. I’m almost done with three of them and I finished the last one this afternoon,” he nodded. Silence fell over you two again but it wasn’t uncomfortable. That was something you noticed shortly after his visits to art studios became more frequent, silence with him was comfortable and you never felt the innate urge to fill it. “How’s studying?” 

“Good, the practicals will be easy. I hate written exams,” Bucky was a kinesiology major, doing astrology classes for electives. What surprised you early on was that he was actually doing well in classes. It made you question those Reddit comments you read saying he cared little for academics. He wasn’t a valedictorian or anything but he was passing with 3.1 GPA overall. You weren’t surprised when he mentioned he wasn't interested in the arts, and that he only did the two mandatory English classes. 

“You got this,” you said to him with a smile. 

“So do you,” he gave you a dazzling smile back. “I'm sorry I haven’t been coming to visit,” he said quietly. 

“It’s okay, we’re all busy right now. I haven’t seen Nat in 4 days, she was hauled up in the dance studio getting ready for her practicals and the final performance,” you shrugged, the performance arts program did a big show at the end of exams the whole campus was invited to purchase tickets for. The funds raised went toward funding future projects. You had your ticket, and an extra because Loki had bought his and forgot to tell you. 

“She hasn’t been at practice either, Barton has been insufferable,” Bucky said with a mock exasperated sigh. 

“I’m not surprised,” you chuckled and smiled at Bucky, he admired the way the corner of your eyes crinkle when you smile like that. 

“You’re still coming Friday?” Bucky asked. 

“Of course,” you nodded. “Actually I have a question to ask you,” he looked at you attentively and waited. “I have an extra ticket to the performing arts final show after exams, did you want to come with me?” You didn’t build your hopes so high that he would say yes. “If you don…”

“Yeah, love too Doodle,” he cut you off. Your face lights up with a bright smile. 

“Awesome,” you cheered excitedly, you wouldn’t soon forget the beautiful smile that graced his face, you both looked into each other for a moment, smiles morning one another. You didn’t want to look away from him, his eyes snapped from yours at the sound of a crash from another room and some yelling. 

“Dammit Scott,” Bucky groaned and looked at you apologetically. “Gotta go Doodle, I’m going to try and swing by the art room tomorrow.” 

“Bye Bucky,” you waved at him as he waved the call ended. You saT back in the chair for a moment before giving up for the night and packing up to go home.

AN: Thank you all so much for reading! I've have been really enjoying writing this series!

Taglist: @vicmc624, @calwitch, @learisa, @aaqua-tofana, @charmedbysarge, @blackbirdwitch22

Feel free to send me a message if you have a request or would like more, or would like to be added to the tag list!

[zepskies]

How would Beau comfort reader who’s gotten home from work and is feeling overwhelmed and sooky? I’m in need of comfort my the cutie patootie pls and thank you beloved 🫶🥺

Hello, my love!

I know it's been a while since you requested this @chernayawidow, but I’m so sorry you’re feeling down. It’s my pleasure to fulfill this prompt for you! 😘💞

AN: This is sort of a sequel to “Didn’t Mean to Stay,” but can be read as a stand-alone.

Word Count: 3,000 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, lots of hurt/comfort, fluff, and feels.

Imagine: Beau gives you the support you need.

You heaved a sigh while climbing up the short flight of stairs to your apartment. Why the hell you decided to live on the second floor, you had no idea…

Okay, mainly for the safety aspect of being a single woman living alone, but at least for the past year, you hadn’t been all that single (or alone, for that matter).

Seeing Beau’s truck in the parking lot reminded you that your boyfriend was already home from work. It was rare that you got here after him, but you perked up a little.

I hope he got something for dinner. Your stomach began to rumble at even the first stray thought of food. After the ridiculous day you’d had, you’d happily eat your weight in just about anything.

A hearty sandwich, Chinese lo mien, a whopping burger with fries…hell, you’d eat a whole damn bag of pizza rolls. As long as it was hot and you didn’t have to cook it.

Once you managed to insert your key and unlock the apartment, immediately there was too much sound coming from the living room. Guns and blasting and whoops and hollers. It all grated on your ears and your frayed psyche.

You grimaced as you locked the door behind you.

“Are we being invaded?!” you called.

Mercifully, the cacophony ceased as you walked into the living room and found your boyfriend with a sheepish smile. On the TV was an old western classic, The Magnificent Seven.

Typical, you thought. Your Texan cowboy loved his westerns.

“Sorry. Too loud?” he asked.

“Just a touch,” you replied.

“Well, I’m glad you're home.” Beau nodded at the TV. “Was gonna ask you what your Netflix password is.”

“What, don’t tell me you settled for 1960s cowboys?” you quipped.  

You dumped your purse on the coffee table and sunk onto the couch next to him. Beau slid an arm around your waist and pulled you in closer. You obliged by shucking off your shoes and resting against him, with your head on his shoulder. You let out a long sigh.

“Well, that was my fallback plan. See, damn Netflix booted me out and I’m really gearing up for that new season of Cake or Cake,” Beau said, with a somewhat childish smile that almost succeeded in tugging your lips upwards as well. Your brows drew together.

“Cake or…oh my God. You mean Is It Cake?” you asked. You nearly slapped yourself with your own hand as it came up to cover your eyes. Your shoulders shook with silent laughter.

“Ah, yeah. That one.” Beau grinned.

“I just can’t figure out how I keep guessing so wrong," he continued. "It looks like a hat. It should be a hat. How the hell is it actually cake? These guys are just so damn talented, I’ll tell ya. I mean, I’ve eaten my fair share of quality cake, but I ain’t never eaten a hat cake…though that does sound good to me, now that I think about it. Heh, I could finally say, ‘if that ain’t real, I’ll eat my own hat.’ And I’d actually be able to take a bite.”

Now, normally you found boyfriend’s diatribes incredibly endearing. Beau was a talker, and you appreciated having him with you at social gatherings. Not only was he great at connecting with people (something you very much admired), but the man was damn good at filling a silence.

Today, however, he was feeding the headache pulsing behind your eyes. You loved him dearly. Yet you were tempted to dig your nails into your own arm just to stop yourself from snapping at him to please, stop talking.

“Speakin’ of food, that reminds me. My stomach’s damn near ready to eat itself.” He eyed you. “What’s for dinner, baby?”

Your hand slid from your face and slapped onto your leg. Your head slowly turned to him.

“I don’t know, Beau. What’d you cook?” you said tartly.

It was an effort, considering how comfortable you were while tucked against him, but you moved his arm off your hip and lifted your heavy-feeling body off the couch. Shaking your head, you trudged a path over to your room.

You didn’t see it, but Beau frowned. Though you heard him follow after you. You did your best to go about your business, unbuttoning your pants and starting on your blouse. You were just so damn tired, and probably still anxious. Even your hands were trembling and fumbling with the buttons.

Still, you sensed him coming closer, saw his sock-covered feet out of the corner of your eye. The rest of him was comfortably dressed in sweatpants and a wool sweater you bought for him last month; he was getting better, but still acclimating to Montana winters.

“You’ve been here all this time,” you grumbled. “You see how late I’m coming in, and you don’t think, hey, my girl’s gonna be tired. Why don’t I figure out how to work the stove so she doesn’t have to worry about feeding my six-foot-ass, bottomless pit—”

Beau’s hands stilled yours, and he took over unbuttoning your blouse to help you. He bent his head enough to catch your eyes, smiling a little at your grumpy face.

“All right, all right. I see your point,” he said. “You had a bitch of day, huh?”

“The longest of my damn life,” you said. The stress of each moment played behind your eyes. So much that they stung with unshed tears when you raised your gaze to meet his.

Beau’s brows furrowed in sympathy. He paused in what he was doing to stroke your cheek and press a tender kiss to your forehead.

“And I wanna hear about it, but first, you go take a nice long shower,” he said. “What do you feel like eating?”

“Food,” you said petulantly. But he was being too sweet for you to be all that annoyed with him. A reluctant smile was growing across your lips. Beau smirked.

“You in the mood for Italian? Chinese? Maybe feeling a little adventurous and wanna try that Greek place down the street?” he suggested. “I think they deliver.”

By now he’d worked your blouse open. His hands were finding their way along the curve of your waist, smoothly across your skin, then meeting at the small of your back. He pressed the heel of one hand there, where he knew your shitty desk chair often made you ache.

You gripped his strong arms for support and leaned into him. You let out a sigh and rested your cheek against his chest, where he dropped another kiss on the top of your head.

“Greek sounds good, actually,” you confessed.

“Mmm, hell yeah. You want chicken, steak, or lamb on your gyro?” he asked. You felt the reverberation of his hum, and it was weirdly soothing. Though his question reminded you of one of your favorite movies that you too often quoted to him: My Big Fat Greek Wedding.

“What you mean he don’t eat no meat?” you said with a giggle. Beau’s lips moved to your forehead, and you felt the shape of his smile.

“It’s okay, I make lamb,” you both said together.

He chuckled and held you a bit tighter, secure and comforting. “All right. Lamb it is…you think they got cake on the menu?”

When you laughed, it was muffled by his sweater.

After a hot shower, good food, and three episodes of Is It Cake later, you were falling asleep on your corner of the couch.

All through dinner, Beau had listened to you vent about your day. About the problems your coworkers had hoisted on you to solve in the midst of a massive project you were already tackling. How your boss then blamed you for not coming to her first before you overloaded yourself, and how you’d very seriously contemplated going to HR before you figured just dealing with it would cause you less grief in the end.

Your boyfriend listened and gave his two cents, both supportive and fair. That was another thing you liked about him; he was always fair.

Now, he roused you out of your drowsy state when his arms wrapped around your frame and lifted you up.

You whined in protest. “Whaaat? Don’t move me.”

“Nope, you’re goin’ to bed,” he said, in his sheriff’s voice that boded no argument. You grumbled, but you still snuggled closer to his chest and pressed your sleepy face into his neck.

Smirking, he walked you into the bedroom and laid you down on your side of the bed. He came to your place often enough that he now had his own side, complete with his own nightstand and a couple of drawers of your dresser, even a bit of closet space.

You really should’ve just told him to move the hell in already, but you weren’t like Beau. He was a man of action. He processed things quickly and made decisions just as fast. His job demanded him to be that way.

You tended to drag your feet. You also tended to worry, and weigh pros and cons, and you were cautious by nature. Even dating this man had been a slow process, for which he’d been very patient with you. (And you with him, especially in the beginning as he learned to open up to you.)

The evidence was plain to see, as he raised the blankets and helped you roll underneath them. You just took him by surprise when you grabbed the front of his sweater and pulled him down with you.

“Hey!” he laughed. He had to brace himself against the mattress before he crushed you. His knees fell on either side of your hips while your arms twined around his neck.

“You’re a wily one, even half-asleep,” he remarked. You smiled and threaded your fingers through his soft brown hair.

“Like a rattlesnake in the tall grass,” you teased. In fairness, the two of you had gotten into watching David Attenborough's nature documentaries.

Beau’s brows raised, his smile deepening.  

“Oh yeah? Better not mess around then,” he chuckled. “I might just get bit.”  

You snorted. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You leaned up until your lips were nearly brushing his. Beau’s eyes lowered to your face, taking in all the things that felt more like home than his little trailer near the woods.

Just before you would’ve closed the small breadth of distance, you veered away from his mouth and went for his neck instead. He even flinched at the tease of your teeth playfully biting him.

"You little vixen!" He laughed deeply as he unwound your arms from his neck. He pinned you down to the bed and pressed his hips down into yours over the sheets. But it was his claiming lips that stopped you from fighting back.

Your shoulders trembled with giggles that he swallowed up, kiss after kiss. Your eyes closed as he dragged the sheets down away from your body. His hands caressed you through your thin tank top, brushing over a hardened nipple with the back of his hand, then squeezing your breast through the fabric.

You sighed into his mouth. “I know I kind of started this, but I’m really tired, baby…”

“Who says you gotta do anything?” rumbled his rich voice.

A tremor of heat ran through you. Even with your eyes closed, your exhausted body responded to his touch. His lips drew a hot, wet path down your neck, all while his hands did sinfully good things, sliding under your tank top and gliding against your skin. You let him take it all the way off, followed by your pajama pants and cotton panties, though he paused to squeeze your ass in appreciation.

“Someone’s been doing squats,” he noted, grinning down at you.

“Nah, just an extra slice of that honey cake,” you retorted. Apparently, the Greeks liked honey on everything.

Beau’s head tilted. “Huh. Well, I do like me some cake.”

You laughed, then jolted with a yelp when he slapped a bare cheek.

But you couldn’t just lay idle when he started on his own clothes. You sat up and helped him raise the sweater up and over his shoulders, but he stopped you.

“I mean it. You just lie back and relax,” he said, giving you a charming grin. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes; he was just too damn good to you.

While he finished taking off the sweater, your hands drifted down to the waistband of his pants. You caressed the hardening length of him, earning a hiss and a groan from him.

“Can’t I just…” you tried.

With difficulty, Beau grabbed your wrist. He raised a brow at you and guided you back down.

“For once, I’m ‘a need you to listen to me,” he said, kissing your cheek and then the other side of your neck.

You breathed a laugh, but it caught on a moan as his fingers brushed through your wet folds. He made a sound of approval. And those nimble fingers gathered some of your wetness and began circling slowly over your clit.

You sucked in a breath and arched against him. You even whimpered a little as his free hand wound through your hair, giving him further access to your neck. He hummed against your skin and grazed his teeth under your ear.

“I gotcha, baby. Whenever you need it,” he said, low and steady. You gripped his arms for dear life as two of his fingers slipped deep inside you. You panted into his neck, rocked your hips mostly in time with his fingers as they twisted and pulsed around your tightening walls. His thumb rubbed against your throbbing clit.

“Please,” you whispered into his neck, squeezing your eyes shut. “Want you inside me.”

“We’re gettin’ there,” Beau nodded. He was breathing harder too, just from anticipation. The sounds you were making, the way you were squeezing his hand from the inside had him painfully hard.

“Now,” you insisted. Your hands moved to grip his hair, and your lips met his in a devouring kiss.

Beau matched your passion with closed eyes and furrowed brows. He’d had a plan for you at the start of this, but what kind of man would he be if he didn’t abide by your wishes?

So he withdrew his fingers from your slick pussy, even though you uttered a shuddering breath. It took everything you had within you to remain still and resting against the pillows as you caught your breath. You wanted to wrestle down his sweatpants yourself and show your boyfriend how appreciative you could be.

But you also appreciated what he was trying to do. You watched him with tired, but still hungry eyes as he kicked off the pants and the boxer briefs and returned to you, bracing a forearm above your head after he spread your legs and raised up your knees.

He lowered himself between the warm cradle of your thighs and kissed down your chest, licked between the valley of your breasts.

You arched up again when his tongue found your nipple, swirling around it, and finally taking it between his teeth. His hips rolled against yours, making his cock press against your core teasingly.

“Beau, for the love of God,” you moaned.

He chuckled. “Maybe you oughta learn how to be patient.”

You grabbed his bearded face between both hands and raised him up to you. He noted your challenging brow, but also your smile.

“Maybe you shouldn’t tease the rattlesnake,” you replied.

Beau laughed and ducked his forehead against yours. “Okay, darlin’. I’m sorry.”

He nosed at your cheek, angling for a kiss. You tipped your head back and welcomed his lips, especially when his tongue slipped past to tangle with yours. His forearm was braced above your head, but his free hand left your hip to line himself up to your entrance.

Another shudder went through your body as he finally slid home inside you. The shape and feeling of his cock was familiar as it stretched your inner walls, and you caught his moan in your mouth.

Your legs wrapped around his hips and squeezed, forcing him in deeper. His eyes screwed shut as he lost focus for a moment. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of the feeling of you, or the sound of your voice, or the way you trusted him, but still tried to give as much as you took.

He pulled out nearly all the way, slowly sliding back in so you’d feel every inch. You clenched on him as a tremble ran through your body.

You uttered a broken gasp of his name that spearheaded goosebumps across his skin. And his next movements were faster, though just as deep.

He followed the encouragements of your voice, especially when he shifted his hips at an angle he knew would make you writhe. His fingers stroking your already sensitive clit, in time with his last wild thrusts, had you threatening to rip out a chunk of his hair. Instead, you gasped in his ear and dug your fingers into his hips.

His own release followed yours shortly after; he could only resist you squeezing the life out of him from the inside out for so long. And you held him afterwards, even though he still had a trembling arm braced above you.

Your hands smoothed up and down his back, trailing lightly with your nails. His breath was hot, but not uncomfortable against your neck.

You felt absolutely boneless as your legs slid from his hips. He pulled out of you soon after, but your embrace kept him from moving very far. He rested on his side, and you turned towards him. You both knew you’d have to deal with the sheets and the cleanup, but not just yet.

You carded your fingers more soothingly through his hair and drew his face back to yours.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whispered. And you didn’t just mean in this bed. “I haven’t had that in a long time.”

Beau’s smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “You don’t gotta thank me for that.”

“Yeah, I do,” you nodded. Your lips formed a tired smile before they pressed softly to his. “I love you.”

Beau took a moment to brush a sweaty strand of hair away from your face. He’d believed in second chances before he met you…just not for himself. Meeting you made him swear by them.

“Love you too,” he said.

And the warmth of that bone-deep knowledge was more satisfying than even the heftiest slice of cake.

AN: God, I love Beau. I miss Big Sky. 😭 But feel free to let me know what you think of this one! It's only my second time, but I really do love writing this guy. ❤️

And tell me...are you team cake 🍰 or team pie 🥧?

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[milykins]

Halloween Hotness

Prompt – Wearing A Sexy Halloween Costume

This also would count for Kinktober I believe

Sorry for the corny title! I figured I should write something for spooky season. This also stems a little bit from the new Tales of the TMNT series on Paramount+. I thought it was adorable and sad how the guys all had these great Halloween costumes and never even got to enjoy the party.

This is the first time I've written a turtle x reader and I decided not to use (Y/N). It just feels out of place in my writing, writing ‘you’ is hard enough, I’m so not used it. Please be gentle, it was really difficult to get the tense right.

Thankfully, my lovely friend @danceingfae helped me edit this.

Michelangelo x Reader

Content Warning: Aged up characters, 18+, smut, female reader, penetrative sex and mild sexual harassment.

Bayverse Turtles but could easily be another iteration.

In this prompt you decide to surprise your SO turtle boyfriend (Mikey in this case) with a sexy costume on the way to a party on Halloween.

Mikey absolutely loved Halloween, if he had to choose, it’s his favourite holiday. He loved the whole scene: dressing up, feeling like a regular guy and free candy! What’s not to love? This year you both agreed on a couple’s costume. He was going to be dressed as Bat-Turtle and you were going as Catwoman.

“Almost ready, Babe?” He called, bouncing on the balls of his feet in anticipation. His brothers were all doing their own thing out and about and you two were about to head to April’s Penthouse Halloween Party.

Sticking out your tongue, you carefully swiped the black eyeliner along the lower eyelid and placed the finishing touches on the top lid. Your cat-eye liner just had to be perfect. “Almost!” You called back.

The costume you picked out consisted of black leather with matching lacy black underwear. Slipping it on, you turned this way and that noting the lines of your bra showing under the suit and frown not liking how obvious they were. Not needing a bra anyways, especially with the tight leather pushing the girls up, you discard it then zip the suit all the way up, rubbing your hands over the now smooth area. Last touch was your mask, ears, thigh-high boots and sexy cat tail. Smirking at your image you stick you tush out and give it a wiggle while thinking, Catwoman, eat your heart out.

All Mikey had asked is for you to find a costume. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to see when you emerged. He hummed ‘spooky scary skeletons’ while he waited.

“I’m ready!” You sang, skipping out to join him.

Mikey turned to look, a huge smile coming to his face. “Awesome, Babycakes! That means we can… go…” he trailed off, mesmerized at the sight of you. “Holy shit…” He breathed, taking a long look at you.

You gave him a twirl. “Do I look okay?” You asked innocently. You knew you were having an effect on him and you loved it.

When he finally found his voice there was a husky edge to it. “Y-yeah…” he cleared his throat, jumping around you to get a better look, his cape swirling as he moved. “You look AMAZING! You look super hot, Babe!”

Your cheeks turned a little pink as you smiled, very pleased with his reaction. “Thanks, you look great too.” You lightly fingered the soft fabric of his cape and traced your finger around the horns of the mask he wore. “Shall we go?”

“Yeah!!” He replies, still a little dazed by your beauty but excited to show you off at the party. “Just watch, you’re gonna be the hottest babe there!”

You giggled as you walked toward the exit, your tail swishing hypnotically along with your hips.

Mikey is once again distracted by the way the leather tightly accentuates your ass. “So fucking sexy…” He whispered before following you and putting his arm around your shoulders.

Mikey is somewhat of a celebrity, word had gotten around about how he and his brothers had saved New York City and videos had popped up all over YouTube describing their heroic efforts. Mikey had not been shy or that humble about it. He’d signed autographs, taken selfies… so when the two of you entered the room, the cheering erupted.

Mikey loved a good party, but he loved showing you off even more. Throughout the night he took every opportunity to introduce you, he kissed you, danced with you, He’d made it very obvious that you two were an item. He was so proud that his girlfriend was so gorgeous and wanted everyone to know.

Sometime during the party, April had dragged Mikey away to introduce him to a couple fans and promising it would be quick. As minutes ticked away though, you wandered to the balcony and stepped out into the crisp air, closing your eyes as a small shiver runs through you. It was quieter out here, most preferring to stay in the warmth of the penthouse. For you though it was a nice break from the noise since Mikey was busy elsewhere.

A moment later you hear the door open and you smile thinking Mikey had come out to bring you back in to the party. As you turned with a smile, it faltered to see that it was not Mikey, but two men dressed up in dark clothes. Not sure, or caring what their costumes were, you give them a small nod of hello then try to step between them to get back inside.

“Where you going, kitten?” One said staying next to his buddy so you couldn’t get through. The look in their eyes up close made your heart start to beat nervously and you cleared your throat to try and speak clearly.

“Inside, back to my boyfriend,” you say giving them a knowing look and trying not to let them see your hands tremble. Everyone knew who your boyfriend was, it was definitely not a secret.

“Come on, sexy kitten, come be with a real man, not like that freak could satisfy you anyway…” They said.

You were already uncomfortable the moment you tried to get past them but after that comment you were angry. “No, thank you.” You said firmly. “Not interested, get out of here before he kicks your asses.”

“I think you might want to reconsider.” The one guy said, caging you in against the wall. “What’s he gonna do? He don’t scare us.”

You attempt to push his chest to escape but find the other guy has blocked you. “Not so fast, kitten, give us a kiss before you go!”

“No!” you say firmly, and your training with Mikey kicks in. You suddenly strike upwards with the heel of your hand and attempt to kick him in the groin. Both hits actually made contact and he yelped in pain. “You little bitch!”

His friend rounded on you to retaliate and you go on the defensive, wincing slightly because you really don’t want to be hit. As anticipated, they rounded up on you and you keep your defenses up. There’s small shaking in your hands which the men grinned seeing. Hating that, you take a breath as they reach back ready to swing their arm towards your face.

The hit never lands as the man is suddenly is ripped away from you and a soft growl is heard. “These guys bothering you, baby?” Mikey sounded different, like he was trying to restrain himself from ripping them apart.

You nodded, crossing your arms. “Yeah… seems they forgot who I belong to.”

“Thought so. They were just leaving.” Mikey grinned. The words are said cheerfully though there’s an edge to them. In a moment he’d grabbed both of the guys by their shoulders and was practically dragging them to the exit.

He knew April wouldn’t mind if he acted as a bouncer for a couple of creeps and throws them through the door into the hallway. “Thank you! Don’t come again, assholes!”

He shut the door, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself. Then he went to make sure you’re okay.

You haven’t moved, still trying to calm your racing heart and hoping the evening wasn’t ruined. The feel of strong arms wrapping around startles you but in moments you recognize the feel of Mikey’s arms and lean back into him taking comfort in his touch.

“It’s just me, Babycakes… Are you okay?” he whispered against your neck.

You nodded and reach behind to caress his face. “I’m okay… I’m sorry… those guys…” You felt a little emotional and your breath hitched.

Mikey swiftly has you turned, in his arms and pulled tight against his chest. “No, no, no, no…” he said. “You did nothing wrong, it’s my fault, I’m the one who left you alone. I’m sorry…”

You melted into his embrace and wrapped your arms around his neck. “It isn’t your fault either.” Then kissed him.

Mikey’s arms tightened around you as he angles his mouth, deepening the kiss. Relief coursed through him as he felt your body melt against his. You were safe, you were real, and you were his. His kisses are soft but demanding as if he’s trying to drink you in, taking everything you have to give.

Willingly, you reciprocate, softly whimpering against his lips. A sound of wanting, an invitation for more. You need him now and you don’t want everyone staring as some are currently doing.

Mikey can scent the sweet smell of your arousal instantly, and breaks the kiss. He brings his forehead against yours, a silent question of your desire as you take in each other’s soft breaths.

You get lost for a moment in the bright, baby-blue hues of his eyes and your grip on his arm tightened as you whisper. “Let’s get out of here.”

Your adorable turtle boyfriend in a black, plastic Batman mask doesn’t need any more of an invitation than that. He scooped you up gallantly, like the knight in shining armor he is and you’re out of that party before you can even blink.

Mikey easily found somewhere private for the both of you. An alcove, tucked away from prying eyes. As soon as your feet hit the ground his lips are on yours again, hard and demanding. His arms pulling you in so tight and quick, you gasped into the kiss. You placed your hands on his well-formed, muscular plastron and rubbed. He quietly churred from the contact. You felt more than heard the sound rumbling through your hands bringing a smile to your lips. You loved it when he made that sound.

He brought his hand down to your perfectly round bottom and squeezed it before giving it a light swat. Your arousal spiked as you groan softly, showing your desire openly for him. Mikey never wanted you to hide how much you wanted or needed him.

Mikey began pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, scenting you more as your need grew. “Damn, girl… you smell incredible, You know, I’ve been holding back all night from doing this… from wanting to touch you, feel you… Almost lost it when I saw those assholes harassing you.” His large hands move, exploring your body, sliding over your soft curves, squeezing and gently kneading the skin still tightly clad in the black leather. He suddenly slides the mask part of the costume over your head because he wants to see your face.

You do the same to him, easily removing the black mask and letting it fall where it may. He smiled, kissing you again deeply, his larger tongue exploring your mouth, pulling yet another moan from you.

His kisses are hot, demanding as he left your lips, sucking your pulse point. “Seeing those creeps bothering you…” he murmered, his thumb on the zipper, the only thing holding your costume together. “They knew… they knew you were mine…” He looked angry then, his focus off of you and away. Rarely he’d accidentally allow himself to go to a dark place regarding your safety.

To snap him out of it, you placed your hands on either side of his face. “I’m yours Mikey… all yours” You whispered. “I knew you would come for me.”

His gaze snapped back to yours and he breathed, coming back to himself. Looking into your eyes is like coming home, like finally getting air after holding his breath. “Mine…” he growled and claimed your mouth once again.

You encouraged him by reciprocating desperately, your thighs rubbing together as you feel much too constricted now with what you’re wearing. You reach and move his hand. The zipper click-click-clicked down a little before he realized what you were doing.

Mikey broke the kiss, smirking like a kid in a candy store. He can’t contain his excitement as he finished what you started, pulling that zipper down. Your breasts sprung free of their confines and were in his hands immediately.

“Ohh…” You breathed, shivering when your breasts found the open air then covered by his large, warm hands. “Oh, yes…”

He squeezed them gently, thumbing the tips in just the right way to make you gasp. “You have the most perfect tits, baby… so sexy…” His hot mouth is on them in an instant, his tongue tracing each pert nipple with ease.

Your body trembled and you felt the flood of heat and wetness go straight to your core. ”M-Mikey… ohh that feels good…”

“Hm…? You like that? I love the way you taste, babe…” He grinned, pushing the suit down one arm at a time and lower still. His hands splayed across your belly, relishing in the feel of your soft skin. “How wet is that sweet pussy of yours?” he husked.

You felt his fingers slide lower and arched toward him with a gasp. One of his thick fingers slid into your heat while is thumb carefully circled your very sensitive nub. You moaned low in your throat. “Fuck…”

Mikey groaned, hearing you swear was the best compliment, and a total turn on. He allowed himself to drop, groaning at the wetness he felt as he’s touching you. “Baby… you need me to fill you up?”

“Yes!” you gasped, grinding against his hand.

His fingers move achingly slow. “Say it, Baby…” he is so hard for you it’s almost painful.

You trembled, a desperate cry upon your lips but you gave him what he wanted to hear. “Mikey! Fuck… fuck me please!”

His costume’s gone, joined by yours in a hot second. You’re braced against the wall then with him poised at your entrance. “Can’t wait to make you scream…”

“Please…” you gasped out, knowing he loved it when you begged.

Mikey held your gaze, arms wrapped tightly around you. “I’ll give it to you, Baby…” he eased himself in, groaning at the way your hot, slick, channel stretched to accommodate him. “Fuck, you feel amazing… you always take me so good…”

You gasped at the initial but welcomed intrusion and arched your back with a soft cry. You felt so full, so incredible, you felt complete with him. “Mikey…” you breathed his name, full of passion and need. You caressed his face in the most gentle affectionate way. An unsaid declaration of the love you feel for him.

He felt it too. This connection you shared was like no other. “I know, Babe…” he said as he began to move within you. “I got you…”

His movements are slow at first, unhurried, he just wanted to feel you, hear the soft sounds of pleasure you made as he deeply thrust into you.

Your legs wrap around him more tightly, encouraging him to speed up his movements a little. “More… Yes… Faster…” You moaned.

Mikey absolutely obliged by moving his hands to your thighs. He thrust his hips harder, angling himself so he could hit that sweet spot deep inside of you. “Love this… love these sounds you’re making for me, Babe… love you so much…”

You can’t even answer him because he kissed you hard after those words. You whimpered against his mouth instead. You felt your body start to tremble and your inner walls clench all around him.

“You’re close…” His voice is ragged in your ear. “Scream for me… cum hard… just for me…” he redoubled his efforts fucking you harder into the wall, staving off his release because yours is that much more important. He needed to feel you first.

You do scream, a choked undulating cry as your body tenses up. You’re flooded with raw, unadulterated pleasure as you cum hard.

Mikey is not far behind. He jerked his hips, thrusting deeply a few more times with a ragged groan before filling you up completely with his release. He tries to make it last as he’s milked for all he’s worth, his essence is dripping down your thighs when he’s finished.

Catching his gaze again you breathed harshly as he huffed his own deep breaths. He reached to cradle your jaw, giving you the softest of smiles. “That was amazing Babe… you’re so awesome, I love you so much.”

Although Mikey wasn’t always the best with words, the true meaning was always here. He easily made you swoon with his heartfelt declaration. “I love you too, you always rock my world…”

“Always will.” He grinned and swiftly pulled out, forgetting about the gush of fluid that always followed when he did that. “Shit, um, oops? Actually, can’t be sorry, that’s always so, damn, hot.”

It was impossible for you not to laugh even more. “Yeah… I don’t think we’re going back to the party, Mikey…”

“Wasn’t planning on it. Still got our Monster Marathon to do, remember?” He looked so pleased and so excited, it was the cutest thing in the world.

“Right.” You managed to pull the suit back on over the mess and zip it up. “Take me home, Bat-Turtle.”

Mikey has his costume grabbed and you in his arms a second later. “With pleasure, my fine, feline.” He grinned, kissing you once more before leaping off into the night.

Most memorable Halloween you’ve ever had, it is quickly becoming your favourite holiday.

The End.

Tag List - small for now but if you'd like me to add you, let me know!

@iridescentflamingo

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[paniniichan]

Ballade of the Lost Ones - Wandering / Chapter 2

Characters: Yuzuru, Tsumugi, Niki, Madara, Rei Proofreaders: Aru, Oli, Azu

＜Several Days After the Bag Thief Incident＞

Yuzuru: Cleaning, cleaning, funfufufu~n♪

Moving the broom to a fixed rhythm is the most efficient way to sweep up the falling petals. My skills haven’t faltered either. 

Ah, meeting expectations as expected…♪

Oh, there seem to be more sakura petals falling over there. I’d like to clean those too if possible.

But I’m almost out of time, and in addition, I mustn’t completely take over someone else’s job. I must restrain myself.

Tsumugi: ……

……? (Rubbing his eyes as if he’s hallucinating)

Yuzuru: Oh? Aoba-sama, a pleasure to see you. 

You seem to be in a state of shock, are you alright?

What is the reason for you staring at me with such bewilderment?

Tsumugi: …Ah, this is ES, right? My brain confused this place for Yumenosaki Academy for a moment there. 

Maybe I should instead be asking why you’re cleaning here, Fushimi-kun? ES has its own cleaning staff, after all.

Yuzuru: I am well aware. I believe a member of staff was cleaning here until a short while ago, but it seems they’ve been absent for a while now.

When my hand subconsciously reached for it, a strong yearning swept over me and I simply began to clean. 

Since I have been living in the dormitory and no longer need to clean the Himemiya Family’s estate, I’ve completely lost the opportunity to pick up a broom.  

Tsumugi: Ah. Now that you mention it, I can see what you mean.

You don’t need to use a broom in any of the dormitory rooms. And all the other spaces are cleaned by the janitorial staff. 

Yuzuru: It is as you say– Ah, it’s that time already…!

Thank you very much for your understanding, Aoba-sama. Anzu-san has called for me after this, so you’ll have to excuse me soon.  

Tsumugi: Eh? You too, Fushimi-kun?

Truthfully, I’ve been called by Anzu-chan as well. You’re heading to the “COCHI” Meeting Room, right?

I was also going to head over there in just a moment.

Yuzuru: You’re going as well, Aoba-sama? I was sure it was a task I had to take care of.

Judging by this situation, others may be assembled as well.

���30 Minutes Later. “COCHI”, a Coffee Shop Near ES Building＞

Niki: Huff, huff. Hiyaaaa~☆

Madara: Hi there! –Huh, wait? What’s up, Niki-san? You’re sweating like crazy.

Yuzuru: So it seems that Sakuma-sama, Mikejima-sama, Aoba-sama, Shiina-sama, and myself were all summoned to this place.

Niki: –Wha!? There’re way more people here than just me!?

What even is this? Anzu-neesan told me to come here so she could get my help with something, no doubt about it–

I thought I was gonna be taste-testing a new menu item, I even skipped all the way here from the dorms!?

I never once gave up, even when it felt like my legs were gonna break!!

Rei: So then, is that why you’re sweating so much? I can’t imagine you’d sweat that much naturally in early spring.  

Madara: Hahaha☆ Aren’t you just overflowing with energy?!

Niki: Noooo, I can’t do this anymore… I used up all my energy just getting here, I can’t move anymore. Goodbye, cruel world…!

Rei: Shiina-kun, what on earth are you doing? You’re being unexpectedly serious. 

Tsumugi: It would be fine if you ate something while waiting for Anzu-chan, wouldn’t it? There’s still some time until the meeting is supposed to start. 

Niki: Whoa! That’s a great idea!! Alrighty, I’ll take one “Seasonal Burger Plate”!

＜About 10 Minutes Later＞

Niki: Nomnomnom…♪ 

Madara: Niki-san sure eats a lot. Since I’m a big eater myself, I feel a sort of connection with you ☆

Yuzuru: I do recall Mikejima-sama set up food and drink carts at the school gates relatively frequently. 

Madara: That really brings back the memories. I can remember how a furious Keito-san would rush in after a while like it was just yesterday. Hahaha!

Yuzuru: Please do not laugh about such matters. As I was not a member of the student council at that time, I could only watch and remain in my position–

Oh? It seems like Anzu-san arrived at some point during that exchange. In that case, let’s end the stories of reminiscence. 

Anzu-san, welcome. …Yes, there are five of us gathered here. 

Ah, now that everyone who Anzu-san called for is present, shall we begin?

For what important matter did you bring us here today?

Eh? There’s someone you want to introduce me to?

–Ah, you are…

Niki: Nomnom– Aaah~! Aren’t you that guy whose bag was snatched the other day!?

Rei: What on earth do you mean by snatched?

Yuzuru: Truthfully–

＜Several Minutes Later＞

Rei: …Hm. So to summarise your story–

Fushimi-kun and Shiina-kun happened upon a scene of larceny, and this man they helped also happens to be a film director.

Madara: It seems that coincidences like these truly do exist.

Though I don’t think I’ve heard the story of “I met someone downtown who also happened to be a film director” before.

Rei: Well, there is a phrase that reality is often stranger than fiction.

 In any case, this director wanted to request for Fushimi-kun and Shiina-kun to star in his film and therefore made an offer to ES for a film production, however…

At the present moment, ES’ hands are full and he was pushed aside. 

Tsumugi: It’s a shame to say this, but as someone who is involved with office management I can give some insight.

Every department has its hands full with something this time of year, so it’s not easy to plan new projects. Therefore I think something like a movie that takes a lot more time is even more likely to be dismissed. 

Niki: Hm? Isn’t that strange though? Why did Director-san come here with Anzu-neesan if ES rejected it?

Yuzuru: I believe Anzu-san raised her hand to take on this plan as a part of “P Choice”.

Rei: Oh, I see. What a good idea.

After becoming an independent individual from the “P Association”, Ojou-chan has become responsible for the “P Choice” project.

Certainly, since this is the case, she can also take over projects that have been rejected from ES.  

Niki: So then the reason we were called here today is… Yuzuru: We will be appearing in this director’s film as a part of “P Choice”, correct?

[eadanga]

A Royal Christmas Part 4

Summary: Liam and Riley celebrate Christmas at the palace with their families 

Liam woke up and turned to see Riley sleeping peacefully he smiles She’s so beautiful I love my queen so much let me make her some breakfast in bed He slowly gets up careful not to wake Riley and walks to the kitchen. He puts on a kettle to make tea and begins making breakfast for the two of them. He hears footsteps behind him and sees Michael coming into the room

“Hey man”

Liam smiles “Hi how are you doing?”

“Ok that smells good”

“Making my wife some breakfast”

Michael chuckles “Of course so when will”

Liam grins “You’re little girlfriend will be here today”

“She’s not my girlfriend…yet”

Liam laughs “Of course of course”

“So how did everything go last night?”

Liam sighs “Riley was really mad at her dad especially after he called her fake I think she needs to talk to him”

“Yeah now that they’re all cooled down they can talk hopefully they work it out today”

“Hope so too” Liam hands him a plate of food smirking “Here you go eat before your lover shows up”

“She’s not my” Michael laughs “Ok thanks man”

Liam chuckles then continues making breakfast. He puts everything on a tray then goes to the bedroom and slowly opens the door. Liam smiles when he sees that Riley hasn’t woken up yet he places the tray on the nightstand then kisses her softly “Good morning my love”

Riley doesn’t move so Liam gently shakes her “Sweetie it’s time to get up”

Riley smiles and slowly opens her eyes “Good morning Liam”

“Good morning love I have something for you”

“You do?” Riley looks over at the table and sees the breakfast she grins “Awww Liam this is so sweet”

“Anything for you love” He kisses her softly “Hope you’re ok after last night”

“I’m fine Liam just hope my parents don’t act like jackasses today”

“Don’t worry if they bother you or upset you in anyway I’ll send them home”

“Really Liam you sure?”

“Absolutely no one will upset my queen again”

Riley kisses him “Thank you Liam now are you ready for our annual tree lighting?”

Liam grins “Yes they got all the lights set up on the tree I can’t wait to light and officially start the Christmas season”

Riley giggles then digs into her food. After breakfast Riley gets dressed and heads out with Liam to do last minute Christmas shopping. Riley had not spoken a word to her dad after their argument last night.

“Got everything love?”

“Yes don’t you just love Christmas Liam?”

Liam smiles “Yes I enjoy everything about it the traditions I had with my parents”

“We’ll now we’re starting new traditions as a couple and soon we’ll have our family”

Liam smiles “Yes I can’t wait for it our own perfect mixture of me and you it will be amazing” Liam kisses her forehead “Love when do you think we will”

“Have our own baby?” Riley giggles “Liam you heard the doctor it takes time if doesn’t happen within the next 2 years then there’s other methods we can try”

Liam smiles “Of course love but I believe it’ll happened soon the doctor said we’re both healthy I trust it’ll happen”

“Me too I can’t wait maybe we’ll have a girl first”

Liam chuckles “No I think we’ll have boy first”

Riley smirks “Please Liam I have a gut feeling and my instincts are never wrong”

Liam chuckles “We’ll see my queen now let’s head back”

They head back from shopping and head back to the palace. Riley finds her dad and mom sitting in the living room drinking coco. Her mom looks up and smiles “Hello dear”

“Hi mom” Riley hugs her

Her dad looks up “Riley can we talk?”

“Later dad I need to put this stuff away” Riley walks away

Her dad sighs “She’s still pissed at me”

“Well do you expect after the way you were talking last night?”

Liam sits down next to him “Sir I think you need to stop being so be so pushy on your daughter”

“I just want what’s best for her why did she even have to get into this royal stuff it’s dangerous and then her face is gonna be everywhere and the paparazzi are following her I can’t stand that!”

Liam nods “I understand”

“No you don’t you were born into this life she wasn’t she doesn’t need all this extra stuff in her life that’s why I want her to be with someone who’s not internationally famous then her life will be peaceful and not full of drama”

“To be honest sir everyone’s lie is full of drama but I’ll make sure Riley is protected no harm will against her”

“You can’t promise that anything could happen to her” Her dad stands “I don’t want empty promises I want my daughter safe” He walks away

Her mom turns to Liam “Just give him time he’s just overprotective”

“No I understand him but nothing with happen to Riley I promise you that”

****

Riley immediately puts all the stuff into the room and pulls out her cell phone

“Hey Riley!”

“Hana did you make it yet?”

“Yup it’s almost done Liam’s gonna love it how have you been doing I know it’s been hard to not show how you’ve feeling around Liam”

“I’m ok getting through it thank God it has been bad but that tea you gave me has been helping me thanks so much”

“Anything for my best friend I’ll see you later”

Riley grins as she hangs up I can’t wait to tell him

Tags: @indiacater​ @mfackenthal​ @the-soot-sprite​​ @hallowdiamond​ @princess-geek​​ @iaminlovewithtrr​​ @gkittylove99​​

[leossmoonn]

Unexpected

masterlist

pairing - nathan scott x fem!reader

type - fluff

note / request - “sara idc if this is just a concept or a full fic but i just need smth ab a bookstore date w nathan royal scott i cannot get it out of my head🤩” This is reallt short lol. Enjoy.

summary - nathan surprises you with your first date

warnings / includes - mild language, food consumption, kissing. early seasons

————

*gif isn’t mine*

“I feel like you’re taking me to a dark alley,” you say.

Nathan chuckles, “and what if I was?” “At least buy me dinner first,” you remark.

He grins, holding onto your shoulders as he guides you out of the car. “Don’t worry. You’ll eat tonight.”

You let out a snort. “And what does that mean? You think you’re gonna get lucky tonight?”

“Just getting a first date with you makes me lucky,” he states. “Mm, such a sweet talker. I have no idea how Peyton could hate you,” you tease.

He rolls his eyes. “Maybe I will take you to an alley.” He begins to walk backwards.

“No, no! I won’t make fun of you anymore. I promise,” you say.

“Can you really promise that?” He asks. Your lips upturn into a slow smile. “Depends.”

“Depends?” He questions. “Yep. If you’re nice to me tonight,” you explain.

“Of course I will be. I’m always nice.”

“Yeah, okay. Anyways, I would like to take this blindfold off, please.”

“Right. My bad.” Nathan leads you away from the car and to the bookstore, opening the door for you and gently pushing you in.

“Hey, at least this dungeon is air conditioned,” you joke. Nathan rolls his eyes. “I know I’m a jackass, but I’m not a murderer.”

“Mm, I don’t know. You can’t be too sure they days, you know? A girl’s gotta be safe.”

“Well, you can trust me. This place is very safe and public. If I tried anything — which I won’t — people will come to your rescue,” Nathan assures you.

“There is a lot of movement and talking here,” you nod. “When do I get my sight back?”

“Just a few more steps.” Nathan walks you two over to a small table by your favorite book genres. There was a candlelit dinner all set up with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in the middle. It was secluded but open.

“Alright. In three, two, one.” Nathan takes off your blindfold and you anxiously open your eyes, becoming stunned.

“Did you do this?” You whip your head around to face him. His cheeks are painted pink and he has a shy smile on his face. “And what if I did?”

“Then I’d think you were a great guy, Nathan Scott.”

His heart soars at your words. “Good. That’s what I want to be for you.” He leads you to the table and pulls out your chair. You sit down with a ‘thank you’, scooting yourself in and resting your elbows on the table.

“So, what’s on the menu 23?” You ask.

Nathan blushes at his given nickname. It’s what you called him before you ever knew his name. When all you knew that he was a jackass basketball player, who managed to keep his girlfriend — “keep”. You and your best friends, Haley and Lucas, referred to him as that, using it as a derogatory to unhuamize him. But now it was used as a term of endearment.

“Your favorite,” he answers. He lifts the lid off the plate and you can’t help but laugh. “What?” He frowns.

“I just — mac and cheese with breadsticks?” You question.

“I… I heard you talking to Haley about how the mac and cheese and breadstick combo at the one restaurant was amazing, and now it was your new favorite meal.”

Your eyes widen and you soften. “It is my favorite meal. I was just surprised at how you knew. This is really sweet, Nate. Thank you.” Your hand rest a on his and you squeeze his knuckles assuringly.

His heart flutters at your touch and he avoids eye contact. “Dig in whenever you’re ready.”

You nod, picking up your fork and taking a stab at the mac and cheese. You hum at the creamy and slightly spicy flavor of the cheese. “This is so good. Better than I remember.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Nathan grins. He takes off the lid of his own meal, revealing a sandwhich and fries with pickles on the side.

“That looks so good,” you lick your lips.

“Want a piece?” He asks. You shake your head. “I’m content with my kid’s menu dinner.”

He chuckles, “if you say so.” He takes a big bite of his sandwich, smearing mustard in the corner of his lips. You can’t help but laugh.

“What? Is me eating a sandwhich so funny?”

You giggle and shake your head. “You have something on your lips.”

He takes the back of his head and wipes his lips roughly, managing to miss the spot. You shake your head and wet your thumb, leaning over the table and cupping his cheek. His heart stops as you cup his cheek, gently rubbing off the condiment. Your eyes stay glued to his lips even seconds after you’re finished. He does the same, unconsciously leaning towards you.

Your eyes flicker back up to his eyes and your stomach churns as you see how dilated his pupils are. You give him a soft smile and pull away. “All cleaned up.”

He sits up in his seat, his ears becoming pink. “Thank you. I’ve always been a messy eater.”

“Oh, is that so?” You smirk. He grins, “yep. And not just with food.”

You roll your eyes at the comment, taking another bite of your mac and cheese. “So, how did you manage to get the library to agree to this?”

“I just asked nicely,” he answers. “Nathan Scott asking nicely? Oh, my god. I think the world is ending!” You gasp.

“Oh, whatever,” he rolls his eyes. “I can be nice, you know?”

“Mm, I know. Why aren’t you more nice?”

He sighs and takes a sip of water. “I guess all my life I’ve been taught to be rude.”

“You can always rise above.”

“Yeah, I’m realizing that.”

“And I’m very proud of you for doing so,” you grin. He smiles back. “Really?”

“Yep. You are almost a changed man.”

“Almost?” He asks. “Well, I have yet to see you read a book,” you smirk.

“Ah — I read!”

“Yeah, comics?”

“That involves reading!”

You giggle, “I suppose. You know, I’m still surprised you picked a bookstore to have this date. I remember you saying how people at bookstores are weird and you don’t want that to rub off on you.”

“You’re right,” he nods. “Maybe I shouldn’t spend time with you.”

You gaso and take your breadstick, smacking his arm. “I am a sophisticated young woman, mind you. And I don’t go here all the time.”

“Liar.”

“Oh, yeah? And how do you know.”

“I see you here every other day. You’re always returning books. You must not a life because you are always here.”

“Have you been talking me?” You raise your right brow.

His eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No, no! I just… Peyton would drag me around here to shop a lot. I just happen to see you sometimes.”

You can’t push doesn’t the smile that fills your face. “So, you did know who I was before we met?”

He awkwardly avoids eye contact. “I knew your name. And… I know that you like fantasy-adventure books.”

“That’s kind of cute, you know,” you hum. “It’s not creepy?” He asks.

You shake your head. “Not if you consider everything I know about you.”

“Well, I don’t exactly keep everything a secret.”

“True. Well, as long as you don’t know my social security card.”

“Actually, I do,” he says with a grin. “If you did, I’ll admit, that would be impressive. I don’t even know it,” you remark.

You two spend the rest of the evening chatting. It took you both an hour and a half to finish your food. After dinner, Nathan took you for ice cream. You walked back to the bookstore, ending up snuggling in a nook by the dinner table. You were in Nathan’s lap, resting your head against his shoulder. His arms are around you, holding you close to him. His chin rests against the crown of your head and he inhales your sweet shampoo scent. You’re reading one of your favorite books to him.

He’s not paying attention to the book, though. He’s more so admiring you. The way your lips move, your soft breathing, your brows furrowing as you lose your place. He loves seeing how fast your eyes move across the page, how your voice sounds like honey.

“What are you staring at?” You ask. “You,” he says, his voice unwavering.

You smile and set the book down, propping yourself up with your elbow. “Is this book boring you?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. There’s just this really pretty girl that I would much rather pay attention to.”

You cup his cheek and gaze into his eyes. “You’re really sweet, Nate. I’m glad I went out tonight.”

He gently grabs your hand and plays with your fingers. “Thank you. I’m really trying.”

“I know. And I appreciate it. Nobody has ever done this before. This is stuff you see in a rom-com.”

“And I’ve never done this before. It was fun. I like doing this, actually. It makes you happy, which makes me happy.”

“I am really happy.” You whisper as you rest your forehead against his. Your eyes search his and your heart palpitates as you see him staring at your lips. Your eyes flutter close as he moves in and brushes his lips against yours. Your hands move to his neck and you tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing yourself up against him and kissing him fully.

His lips fit perfectly with yours as you kiss him. His hands grip your body firmly, but in a caring manner. He doesn’t kiss you like you would expect. He’s gentle and passionate, not quick and messy. It feels just right.

You pull away, in a little bit of a daze as you look at him. He’s grinning from ear to ear.

“You look like you just wont be lottery,” you remark.

He cradles the back of your neck. He pulls you close again, softly caressing your skin. He looks at you lovingly, his grin never wavering. “I just did.”

————

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@arkofblake @murdockcastleslut @gbcslut @valluvsu

[trashywritestrash]

Babysitter

Pairing: Steve Harrington x single mom! reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: no season 4 spoilers, reader has a named child, child’s father is not around, child cries/kicks/throws a tantrum, some light cursing, Lucas may be a little OOC but I tried my best.

A/N: i literally did this now in one sitting and it has not been edited at all and is not going to be. i just started and didn’t stop, so enjoy the experience i guess lol

also my birthday is on sep 17th and i’m gonna turn 21 so i kinda wanna do a big celebration with y’all but idk if y’all would want that or what we would do?? opinions pls

also this gif just seems to fit the vibe of this fic lol

gif by cloudsongs

You hadn’t had to hire a new babysitter in years. Unfortunately, your long-term trusted babysitter had just left for college out-of-state. So now you have no other option but to try to find someone else. And, somehow, you ended up hiring Lucas Sinclair.

Lucas was not someone you knew well, but he seemed like a responsible kid. And your daughter Emmie was (according to your last babysitter) an easy child to take care of. She was polite and clean, and overall very cheerful. You knew Lucas didn’t have any experience babysitting, but Emmie would be a good learning experience for him. Still, you left him the number of the bar and he promised to call if he needed anything.

So you went out with your friends in a dress that was only a little too tight, more makeup than you usually apply, and heels that you’d regret later. You had to go all out because your friends would tease you otherwise. You had given birth to Emmie fresh out of high school, so you had to ditch them a lot in order to take care of her. They understood of course, but they made it clear that they wanted you to enjoy your twenties— no matter how many times you’ve told them “I am enjoying my twenties! I love my daughter, and she makes them fun”. They insisted that it wasn’t the same.

You gave Emmie one last kiss as you said goodbye, leaving her in Lucas’ capable hands.

Or so you thought.

Unbeknownst to you, as soon as your friends had picked you up, Emmie had completely changed. She was mean to Lucas in the way a three (almost four) year old can be. She refused to eat, wouldn’t take her nap, threw her toys around the living room. Worst of all, she told Lucas that she didn’t want to be his friend. All of this happened within 15 minutes of you being gone.

Lucas couldn’t call you. You probably hadn’t even made it to the bar yet, and he didn’t want to ruin your entire night before you could have any fun. So he called the first person he could think of.

“No way in Hell, man! You’re on your own!” Lucas heard Dustin’s laugh as he spoke.

He groaned, “Please, Dustin! I don’t know what to do, she doesn’t listen at all!”

“How am I supposed to help? I don’t know shit about kids! Call someone else.”

“Like who?” Lucas asks, threw his hands up even though Dustin couldn’t see him. “I tried Mike already, but he’s busy.”

“He’s not busy, he just doesn’t want to. Call Steve, he’ll know what to do.”

Lucas heard a thump from the living room and his heart almost stopped beating. “Shit— I’ve gotta go! I’ll call him!” He hung up the phone and ran to the other room. Emmie was standing on top of the coffee table, looking down at her cup of juice that she had just knocked onto the carpet.

“Juice!” She cried.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ll get you more juice! Just get off the table.”

Emmie clenched her fists, “No!” She stomped on the table, causing the vase on it to shake. Lucas’ eyes widened and he rushed forward. He picked Emmie up off of the table as she kicked and screamed, trying to beat him off of her. “No! I want down!”

“I’m sorry, but you can’t be up there! You’ll get hurt.” He brought her into the kitchen and sat her on the floor. Emmie started to kick his leg out of anger. Lucas ran to the fridge for more juice, but found that there was no more left. “Shit.”

Emmie froze when she heard Lucas swear. He turned around, startled by her sudden stop. Her eyes watered as she stared at him before she burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably. “I want Mama!” She plopped down to sit on the tile floor and kicked Lucas’ legs whenever he tried to get closer. He grabbed the phone off of the wall, forced to deal with the kicking as he called Steve.

The second Steve answered, he couldn’t get a word out as Lucas cut him off. “Steve! I need your help, it’s an emergency!” He gave his older friend your address and Steve promised he’d be there as fast as he could. Before he hung up, Lucas added “And bring juice!”

—————

Ten minutes later, Steve knocked on the door. Lucas ran to the front door, immediately opened it, and pulled Steve inside.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked as Lucas dragged him to the kitchen by his wrist. Emmie was still on the floor, still crying.

“She’s been crying and fighting me this whole time, I don’t know what to do— Did you bring the juice?” Lucas grabbed the jug out of Steve’s hand and smiled at Emmie. “Look, Emmie! Steve brought you more juice.”

“Don’ want juice! I want Mama!”

“Your mom will be back later. But right now you’ve gotta eat something.” Lucas tried to get closer again, but Emmie kept kicking.

“No!”

Steve stood there with wide eyes, taking in the scene in front of him. “Don’t just stand there, man, do something!” Lucas shouted at him.

“I don’t know what to do either! I’m not a baby whisperer!”

“I’m not a baby!” Emmie insisted, still kicking and crying.

“Then stop acting like one!” Lucas snapped. Emmie started crying even harder.

Steve rolled his eyes at the younger boy, “Nice job, doofus. What did you think was gonna happen?”

“Just help me!”

For a moment, Steve just stood there thinking. Then he crouched on the floor so he could be level with Emmie.

“You’re Emmie, right? I’m Steve. I’m Lucas’ friend.”

“Nobodies his friend ‘cuz he’s mean!”

“Well, I’m his friend. He’s nice after a while, I promise.”

Emmie seemed to calm a bit, but only a bit. “Pinky promise?”

Steve nodded and held out his pinky to the little girl. “Pinky promise.”

She held out her pinky and locked it with Steve’s before she quickly pulled it back. Emmie had stopped kicking, but still cried. “I miss my Mama.”

“I know you do, but what would she say if she saw you acting like this? Would she be happy?”

That made Emmie frown. “No. Mama would be mad.”

“She probably would be. And we don’t want Mama to be mad, so you have to eat and listen to Lucas. Okay?”

“But he’s mean! He said a bad word!”

Steve frowned at Lucas. “Did you seriously curse at a child?”

“No! It just… Slipped out when I saw she was out of juice.”

“He has to say sorry!” Emmie crossed her arms and pouted, but her tears slowed.

Lucas frowned, feeling ashamed. “I’m sorry, Emmie. I shouldn’t have said that word.” Emmie huffed in response.

Steve turned back to her. “Now you have to apologize to Lucas.” She goes to argue, but Steve cut her off. “You’ve been kicking and screaming at him all night. And you said some pretty mean stuff to him too.”

She looked down at the floor and grumbled out. “Sorry.”

“Say it like you mean it,” Steve ordered.

“Sorry, Lucas.” Emmie looked up at Lucas as she apologized. She sounded a lot more genuine the second time. He gave her a small smile and a nod.

“Now,” Steve started, “What do you want to eat?”

Emmie was quiet for a moment before she decided she wanted mac and cheese. Lucas nodded. “I can make that for you. Do you want to stay with Steve while I cook?” The girl nodded at that. She had completely stopped crying already, but her face was still red and wet from tears.

“Come on, Emmie. Let’s go get you some tissues.” Steve stood up from the floor and waited while Emmie twisted around and struggled to get up. She stopped wiggling and looked up to Steve, not saying anything as she held her arms out. “You want me to pick you up?” She nodded, so Steve carefully lifted her off the floor, being as gentle as he could be with her. He carried her to the living room and sat her on the couch. Steve grabbed the box of tissues from a side table and handed Emmie one.

“Here you go. Can you wipe your eyes?” Emmie nodded and wiped her tears with the tissue and then her nose. “What do you want to do until dinner is ready?”

“Munch Bunch.”

Steve quirked a brow, “Munch Bunch? What’s that?” Emmie got down from the couch and walked over to the television set. She grabbed a VHS tape off of the shelf and handed it to Steve.

“Munch Bunch.”

He nodded and put the tape in the player, then started it and sat on the couch. Emmie got back on the couch and sat next to Steve. She looked up at him. “How old are you?”

“I’m twenty. How old are you?”

Emmie held up three fingers, “Three.”

“I see.” Steve exaggerated his reaction, sounding more impressed than he was.

“My mama’s twenty. You’re the same.” Emmie smiled, proud of herself for making that connection.

Steve brushed it off, assuming she got her mother’s age wrong. “How old is your dad?”

Emmie shrugged, “I don’ know. I don’ have a dad.” Steve froze, not knowing what to say.

“I’m sorry, Emmie.”

“It’s okay. My mama is the best, so I don’ need a dad!” Steve had the fleeting thought that Emmie wasn’t going to feel that way in a couple years, but he didn’t say it out loud. He didn’t have to say anything because Emmie’s full attention was focused on the television. A couple minutes later, Lucas brought dinner out to them and they ate on the couch.

—————

When you got home after your outing, it was almost eleven o’ clock at night. You entered the house and saw Lucas with someone else, picking up toys in the living room.

“Hi, Ms Y/L/N!” Lucas smiled, stopping his work.

You looked between Lucas and the other man carefully. “Hi, Lucas… Who’s this?”

“This is Steve. He’s my friend. I called him ‘cuz he has experience babysitting.”

Steve didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. Emmie hadn’t been wrong when she said you were about his age, but she didn’t say anything about you being pretty. His brain started working at half capacity as soon as he saw you. “I’m Steve.”

“Hi, Steve,” You tried to stop your voice from wavering, but you were sure that your unease was clear. “Where’s Emmie?”

Lucas was the one who responded again, “Asleep in her room. She kind of had a fit earlier and it tired her out.”

You nodded, “Okay. Wait right here, okay? I’ll be right back.” You went down the hallway to Emmie’s room and walked in. You found her sound asleep in her bed, dressed in her day clothes instead of pajamas. She looked safe and content, which eased your nerves a little. When you went back to the living room, Steve and Lucas were right where you left them.

“Steve, could you stay here for a minute so I can talk to Lucas in the kitchen?”

“Oh— um, yeah, of course.”

Lucas followed you into the kitchen and you turned to him once you were out of earshot. “I’m not upset or anything, but I wanted to let you know that if you ever babysit for another family, you should ask the parents before you invite anyone over. I know Steve is your trusted friend, but I don’t know him at all, so I was thrown off when I came home and saw him in my house.” You spoke gently, doing your best to convey that you weren’t angry.

Lucas’ eyes widened a little, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about that. I was just in over my head and didn’t know what to do… Emmie was out of juice, so I asked Steve to pick some up and then he helped calm her down. I’m so sorry…”

“It’s okay, really. Emmie’s okay, that’s all that matters to me.” You gave him a smile and he instantly relaxed. “What did she do during her tantrum? And do you know why it happened?”

“She threw her toys, screamed and cried a lot. She also started kicking me whenever I was close enough. But I think she just missed you.” You could physically feel your heart break at those words. “It started as soon as you left, it was just a complete switch.”

You frown, “Jessica was her babysitter for basically her whole life… Maybe having new people here with her scared her. Stranger danger and all that. Still, I’m sorry she acted that way. That’s not how she is usually.”

“It’s okay. Once she calmed down, she was really good the rest of the night.”

“Thank you, Lucas.” You smiled and reached into your purse, finding the envelope that you had already put together as Lucas’ payment. “Here you go. Is your mom still coming to pick you up?”

Right as you said it, you heard a car in your driveway. “That must be her now.” Lucas followed you to the front door, which you opened to be greeted by Lucas’ mom. “Thanks again, Lucas. If you ever want to babysit again, you have my number.” He said his goodbyes and was out of your driveway in only a few minutes. That left you with Steve.

“Hey, sorry about all that… Um, let me grab my purse really quick and I’ll pay you Lucas’ rate.”

Steve is quick to shake his head. “No, you don’t have to do that. It’s all good.”

“At least let me pay you back for the juice. Unless you want to take the bottle back home with you?”

He chuckled, “Nah, I’m alright, thanks. But you don’t need to pay me back for it. It’s just one jug of juice.”

“I feel bad,” You frown. “You came all this way and helped take care of Emmie all night. I don’t want to just not pay you.”

Steve gave you a charming smile, but you could tell he was still a little nervous. “Instead of paying me, you should let me take you on a date. It’ll give Lucas some more experience without me to fall back on.” As soon as he finished saying it he grimaced at his own words. “I’m sorry if that was weird. I’m usually a lot more smooth than this, so I totally get it if you’re weirded out right now and think I’m crazy or something.”

It was your turn to laugh. “It’s okay, Steve. It was weird, but in a cute way.” You saw him blush a little and that encouraged you to keep going. “I’d like to go on that date.”

Steve smiled wide, chuckling a little in relief. “Good. Cool. Great. I’ll, um, I’ll write my number down so you can call me?” You nodded and grabbed two pieces of paper and pens so that you could both exchange numbers.

And just like that, you had a cute guy’s phone number. Plus, he was good with your daughter, which was a big green flag for you. You parted ways, promising to call each other soon to set up your date. As you watched his car pull out of your driveway you started to think. Maybe Steve could be more than a babysitter.

—————

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[toonblabbers]

Balls to the Walls Random Headcanons

A/N: Just trying to flex and expand my writing with other characters: Ace Edition - Ushijima, Iwaizumi, Aran, Hoshiumi, Asahi, Yamamoto and Sakusa!

I didn’t write about my big sexy himbo Bokuto because my blog is like almost 90% him

This contains some mentions to smut so hey: minors DNI! Thanks!

 Ushijima:

Service top with a dash of Dom. Got a big cock but he doesn’t know what to do with it so please help him out.

Had one (1) partner before you and they told him he can be too rough so now he’s the literal definition of Gentle Giant. Again tell him what to do and how you like it

He on the other hand…Well he’s got a hard body from years of strength and endurance training. He has very specific spots where he’s super sensitive, but he’s easily embarrassed about them

One spot is right behind his earlobe. Sit in his lap, pinch his ear and gently rub it between your fingers. The sight of Ushi’s eyes fluttering closed as his breathing picks up is truly a sight to behold

Another spot is his wrist; stare him in the eyes and kiss his wrist before a match to have his knees quake a little and shorts feel a little tighter

Actually loves to discover new kinks with you. He finds it more romantic than having a quiet dinner with you in an expensive restaurant

Can be a big ole needy baby during the off season of volleyball. Tugging on your shirt when you leave the bed, follows you into the bathroom, stands behind you in the kitchen or when you’re doing laundry. He’s not vocal with his words but more with his body

Don’t tease him though; it’s still a very new feeling for him to express

 Iwaizumi

Hates fighting with you but loves to pull you close and soothe you with a hot kiss

Has big Dom Daddy energy, but there are a few ways to make him start to crumble under you touch

If you use any piece of clothing to pull him in closer to you like his collar, his tie when he wears one, or his belt. Lean in like your gonna kiss him, stare at his lips then his eyes and then just walk away like nothing happened. You bet your sweet ass he’s gonna follow you to get that kiss

Another way that he refuses to admit he likes: play with his nipples. He’s got some fairly big and dark nipples compared to his friends and they get hard easily. Brush your fingers over them when you lean in to kiss and he’s got diamonds poking through his polo shirt

One way that he will admit is ass play. Now he’s not ready to full on take a cock in his ass, but things like your fingers, anal beads, or a vibrator? Makes him practically cum on the spot

Loves it when you get rough on him. Not like in a “I’m gonna slap you” kind of way but in the “grab him by the hair and demand he fucks you properly when he’s taking it too slow” kind of way

His cock pulsing hard inside of you and his eyes dilating is a dead giveaway of how much he loves it

 Aran

Admittedly, he doesn’t have a monster dong (sorry not sorry, not all fucking black guys have a big cock so stop fetishing it thanks – from a black woman) but it does have a nice curve to it

He’s a disgusting romantic so full on he will bust out the candles, the rose petals, and the silk robe waiting on the bed for you. He saw it in a movie once as a kid and wanted to try it ever since

He so cute though because since he is a big romantic, he’s always cooking you breakfast and singing a little song in the morning for you. He even does a little dance while carrying the tray off food just to see you smile in the morning

He’s also such a soft Dom dude. Admittedly a little scared to try an bottom for you but man does he make you feel loved when he’s in between your legs

Loves to hold your hands or hold you close when he cums. Wants you to feel how his whole body shudders because of how good you make him feel

Big ole cuddle bug so it’s best to have some towels and water bottles by the bed cause neither of you are moving unless he says so

He’s a man a of quality and not quantity, so yeah you guys only go one round of sex cause he’s bone tired after he cums. That doesn’t mean he can’t make you cum multiple times though

Hoshiumi

 A short King. We stan (I’m 5’9 so he’s short to me)

He is a meeeeessy boi dude like if ya’ll in a hurry to fuck, he’ll quickly slobber all over you and use as much spit as he needs to slide home. Loves how tight you are, but he’s careful enough to make sure it doesn’t hurt you…..too much

Loves. To. Fuck. You. Both. Dumb.

Did you just cum? Well he’s not stopping until he cums. Did he just cum? Well he’s not stopping until you cum. Wants to keep it equal

Please sit on his face. He loves it. And if you play with his balls like rolling them in your hands and squeezing them? He’s whining and panting while eating you out like a mad man

He adores it when you play with his hair when you’re cuddling. Just don’t be surprised if he starts humping against you. It just feels so good

He’s very competitive so god help you if you’re with his friends and they start talking about their sex stories.

If there’s a friend there (Hinata) that talks about the kind of kinks they do with their partner and it’s something you guys haven’t tried before? Guess what’s on the list tonight

 Asahi

God just hold him. He needs it. Another one that's is a great service top for someone who loves to lead from the bottom (me @ me)

Not the biggest set in the world but he's got passion so sex is almost always soft and sweet

He's still hot in his own ways like the way his deep grunts start to turn into softest and sweetest moans

Or the way he stares at you; eyes swirling between lust and loves with tears threatening to spill

Please don't be mean to him unless he asks. It's evident that he holds a lot of insecurities and he's trying his best for you. Love and dote on him because his aftercare is top tier

Even if you guys don't do anything special or crazy. Just some straight vanilla sex, he always makes sure that you're comfortable before you go to bed

Also he helps you establish a nightly routine with him so what's not to love about that?

Yamamoto

SIMP ALERT. Be ready for one of the LOUDEST simps out there. 

I'm talking a bigger simp than all the setters for Hinata or all the captains for Daichi

You can fit so much passion and respecting people juice into this boy right here

I don't see him being a wild boy but if you're into it then so is he. Want him to spank you? He's gonna ask how hard baby.

However if you want to do something that he seems a bit hesitant on, he’s gonna try to be overconfident with everything. Make sure you talk to him and make sure you have a solid agreement with with him. Communication is key with him!

He's a little sloppy and lazy with his aftercare but you know what, it's always fun with him

I don't know much about him but he gives off that vibe of a man that runs on pure fiery passion and motivation. Like if he’s feeling like loving on you tonight? Be ready to not do a damn thing cause youre gonna be his precious pillow gem (idk if there's a gn term for ‘pillow princess’)

Sakusa

Ooof. Where do I begin with this beautiful man. Pretty body with a pretty cock to match for starts

He’s sexy man but he has these cute little moles all over his body. He personally doesn’t like them but please kiss each one even the one on his butt. He may not voice it but he loves it so much

He will gladly do the same for you; kissing you every part of your body that you may not like about yourself.

Doesn’t have a high sex drive, but when he’s in the mood, damn you better clear your plans. He believes in both quantity AND quality so you will be thoroughly fucked out when he’s done with you

I see him as the kind of dom that goes for the kind of pleasure that benefits you both. Not a selfish lover but also not an absolute giver like the others

Yeah there are nights where he wants to treat you but others nights he’s gonna make you work for it

Tagging: @hiddenbluee, @kou-taro, @justcoffeewithoutcaffeine​

[burnedbyshoto]

initiation

— “Marriage within my family is different,” Shouto stated, trying to carefully choose his words. This put you off just the slightest bit; Shouto had never been one to be careful with what he was saying after all. “For us to marry, our future spouse must be initiated into the family.” The word initiation hung heavy in your ears.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader + todoroki family x fem!reader (endeavor x reader; touya x reader; fuyumi x reader; natsuo x reader)

warnings: 18+, smut, hardcore, gangbang, cream pie, choking, degradation, breeding, slapping, anal, anal fisting, size difference, finger gag, piss kink, older sister kink, facesitting, squirting, handcuffing, sadist!todoroki’s, masochist!reader, fuck machine, daddy kink, overstimulation, rimming, punishment, cucking, double penetration, biting and marking, mating press, orgasm control, slapping, praise, latex, healable branding, blow Job, hair pulling, mental break

word count: 28,823

a/n: i kept the beginning & rewrote the rest of this. like last time, please do not read if you’re even remotely uncomfortable with hardcore settings. this is some twisted cult mind thinking the todorokis family got in this fic. it’s not for everyone, stop reading immediately if its not for you. thank you & sorry. it took 3 hours for me to transfer this all over LOL ;-;

kinktober day 10 main kink: gang bang | kinktober masterlist

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Golden wisps of light shone through the open window; the gentle winds of spring pushed forward, filling the quiet room. Shouto lay in the warmth, blocking you from the light, casting shadows on your face. He had woken up moments before, his chest warms with content and deep admiration while he drank in your sleeping form.

Last night had been your fifth anniversary, and as a couple who was always doing something in the day, the night had been perfect for the two of you. Shouto had made the both of you dinner; he’d had Bakugou teach him how to make your favorite meal (Bakugou might have also fixed the seasoning when Shouto wasn’t looking). The two of you enjoyed a night of dinner, video games, and passionate, amazing sex. 

Shouto knew that there had been something wrong with you. There was the smallest bit of disappointment in your aura for the entirety of dinner, significantly heightening at the end of desserts. It had faded with time, talking, and interaction, but he had seen it, felt it lick against his chest in slow, chilly tendrils. 

Under the covers of the bed and the warmth of the rising sun, Shouto reached out and rubbed your cheek with his thumb.

Your skin was soft under his rough fingers, and he slowly traced the curves and lines on your face. Dipping down to where your lips were and traveling in the part between the lips he knew intimately. There was no stopping him when Shouto’s lips pressed against the tip of your chilled nose. 

But it was enough of a touch to wake you up. Shouto watched your heavy eyelids part open, tired eyes coming to meet his own in a kind gaze.

“Good morning, my love,” Shouto murmured.

Your dry lips smacked together, a grumble deep in your throat while you shifted your naked body closer to him. “Morning, you're warm…” you mumbled into the valley between his pecs. “What time is it?”

“Noon.”

“Mm, horrible,” you grunt, and Shouto chuckled. He wasn’t much of a morning person either, but you were someone who put even night owls to shame when waking up. 

“I’m going to go shower, then I’ll make us breakfast,” Shouto told you, his fingers brushing your hair from your face. “Want to join?”

“So you can try to sex me up in the shower?” you scoff, but your tone is light, joking, loving. “I’ll take five minutes of extra sleep.”

“You’re a brat,” Shouto smiles, unable to keep the joy from his voice while you chuckle throatily. He presses a kiss to your mouth, ignoring both of your gross mouths before going to do as he said. 

The shower didn’t take long, and Shouto was dressed in sweats before moving out to the kitchen. As he prepared breakfast, he heard the shower turn on, and he smiled softly that you had taken the initiative to get out of bed before breakfast was ready. By the time he was wrapping up, you had emerged from the bedroom.

You wore an oversized shirt of his, barely reaching down to the curve of your ass.

“Mm, thank you,” you chirp when Shouto places the plate of food before you; it was nothing crazy, just a bowl of white rice made via the rice cooker, your eggs just as you liked it, and a serving of mixed veggies. You grab onto his shoulders to bring him into a sweet morning kiss that definitely was minty, unlike the last time.

The both of you ate in silence, the good night's sleep still slowly letting you go from its grasp; his gaze, however, remained on you the entire time. That disappointed air came back to cling on you.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong, angel?” Shouto finally spoke up once you were done; now that you had food filling your stomach, you seemed calmer.

Your eyes focused back onto him, the slightest bit of shock highlighting on your face at his keen judgment, but you shrugged, your smile sad. “I thought you were going to propose last night, that’s all.” Those words shouldn’t have caused Shouto’s eyes to slam open, his entire body stiffening over, and even if it was slightly, he knew you could read him better than he could read himself at times. Your jaw dropped a bit, confusion evident in your face. “Why’d you react like that?”

Shouto purses his lips, composure regained. Marriage had definitely been something the two of you had talked about, and to Shouto, he saw you as a life partner. He knew that he never wanted to part with you, ever. But marriage? A proposal on his own end would mean… no, he wouldn’t do that to you or himself.

“I wasn’t planning on proposing last night,” Shouto fully admits, watching the way that your head nods in recognition. “But… I also won’t propose to you, ever.”

Now that's new information to you. 

It was now five years of being in a committed and loving relationship. The five years filled with late-night conversations of your future, yet you had never really talked about weddings and such. Granted, in your mind having a list of what to call your future children seemed like a marriage sort of ending.

“Wait, what?!” you gasp, confusion, and something deeper growing within your stomach. “Why wouldn’t you ever propose?!”

Shouto’s face is grim, his nostrils flaring while he looks to the side, his mind going a million miles a second. 

“I can’t tell you,” he hissed venomously, his shoulders taut and flexed in his anger. “I wish I could tell you, but it's not my place too,” he looked back to you, his eyes honest, sincere, and flickering with possessive jealousy. “I want to propose to you, y/n, I want to marry you, I want to be yours in more than just soul and love… but to do that… I can’t put you or myself through that.”

“What are you going to be a groomzilla? I met you when you were fifteen, trust me I can handle you—”

“No, it’s not that,” Shouto sighs, but there’s a soft smile on his face for a second, an indicator that you had amused him despite him. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“Well then, tell me,” you reach across the counter to hold his hands. His hands are warm in yours, spreading heat throughout your body. You pressed a kiss to his knuckles, continuing to do so until his ears were tinged pink. 

Shouto groans, his hands grasping yours and pulling your hand back to his mouth, and he presses a long and silent kiss to the back of your hand. His eyebrows were scrunched together, the heat in his hands fluctuating, indicating the emotional turmoil going on within him.  He places one more kiss upon your hand before pulling his lips from your hand, but he still keeps his hold on your, not willing to pull away.

“Marriage within my family is different,” Shouto stated, trying to carefully choose his words. This put you off just the slightest bit; Shouto had never been one to be careful with what he was saying after all. “The Todoroki’s that my father came from have family traditions; traditions that must be held up to no matter what. Over time and society's modernization, some have survived, and some have not, but one thing has stayed this entire time. For us to marry, our future spouse must be initiated into the family.”

The word initiation hung heavy in your ears.

Whenever the word initiation was used, it was done in the context of cults. 

Shifting in your chair, your head tilted to the side, “Initiated?”

You were a Pro Hero, though, someone who was greatly respected within the country for your strength and ability. You could handle anything they threw your way.

“I can’t tell you what it is,” Shouto snarled, his face running with a million conflicting emotions, but above all, anger and enviousness hung on. He wanted to tell you, but he couldn’t, his hand gripping yours harsher than it had been while he tried to stay calm. “But only my family can allow you to marry me. I can’t even propose until after the fact, and I don’t want to put us through that.”

“I don’t care what it is, though,” you whisper, your thumb stroking the side of his hand, trying to get him to reason with you. Your free hand reaching out to hold onto his cheek, willing Shouto to look at you. His eyes met yours again, and there was nothing in them that proved that he didn’t love you; he wanted to marry you too. You purse your lips before it melted in a warm smile, “No matter what your family has for me! Even if I have to eat Touya’s burnt to a crisp curry! I’ll do it for us, for you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to see you doing what you’ll have to do,” Shouto grunted, his cheeks burning with his words. “I just don’t want to have you be put into this situation, I can’t have you doing this for marriage. We don’t need to be married anyway. We don’t need to be married to love each other forever.”

But just as much as you could read Shouto’s emotions and thoughts like an open book, he was the same for you. His eyes softened immediately at the sight of your reaction that lasted for what felt like a millisecond.

“What’s wrong?”

You sigh, your body stilling while you shook your head, “I can’t be with you forever without being married. I know having a band around our fingers and having the government recognize our relationship isn’t what love is about, but I just… I value marriage. I want to be a bride, I want the ceremony, the reception, the day spent in love with you. I know that in the end, marriage doesn’t mean shit, but I want it. I want to tell our kids — if we have kids — about our day, show them videos and pictures of how it went. I want to be able to talk about it. I can’t be in a relationship where we go unmarried… and I love your family! And I’d like to believe that they love me too! I’m sure we’ll be okay.”

Shouto’s face solemn, his stomach twisting. This was something he should have seen coming. It was something he knew was coming, but it still made him stoic hearing it. 

Todoroki Shouto was in love with you, all of you. You indeed were it for him, and he knew that and recognized it, but this was something you wanted. Something he now denied you for his own reasons, and while they were honest intentions, they still didn’t benefit you. But you were his everything.

“Fuyumi and Natsuo’s spouses never show up to family events anymore because of it, you know?” he stated, not to scare you, but just a sad and honest observance. He didn’t want you to stop showing up to family events either. He loved seeing you there with everyone and didn’t want that taken away. He looks at you and sees you nodding. You had been there for weddings after all, but you had no interactions with them, with the entire family being there besides that event. “You’re sure I’m the one that’s meant for you?”

Your head nods without hesitation, an ember burning brightly in your eyes. You would be an idiot if you thought he wasn’t.

“Fine, brat,” Shouto sighs, walked from the other side of the counter to stand next to you, his hands letting go of yours to rest on your hips, his forehead pressing against yours. “I’ll talk with them, I’ll see when this shit initiation will take place.”

He still hadn’t proposed, but the mere thought of everything happening soon sent bubbling joy through you. A giggle escaped your lips seconds before you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, but Shouto’s mouth bit back at yours, drawing you in with passion and fire.

“What could they possibly do?” you mumble against his lips, your lips curling into a smile when he lifts you from the chair, his fingers sneaking under his shirt on your body to rest on your soft hips. “It’s not like I’m going to die.”

.

..

..

..

.

Shouto arrived at his family's house the next day, and without even entering the house, he was already dreading this talk. Sucking in his teeth, he opened the front door, exchanging his shoes for slippers, and continued into the house.

Bright laughter and conversation greeted his ears once he made his way out of the front room, and he looked into the kitchen where his parents and siblings stood, eating and talking.

“Shouto!” Fuyumi chirped, having seen him immediately. “You showed!”

Shouto watched his entire family turn to look at him, smiling when he bent down to hug his sister and mother. Touya winked at him, stealing a bite of food from Natsuo’s unsuspecting plate. Natsuo was waving, his eyes pinched closed while he chewed, and Enji was flipping something in a pan but acknowledged Shouto with a simple nod.

“We weren’t expecting you for dinner!” Rei smiled, brushing Shouto’s hair from his face with a kind smile. “Why didn’t you bring y/n?”

Shouto inwardly winced; he was hoping to have this conversation after they had all eaten. He knew there might be a chance to have them suspend the initiation for you had it been after they’ve eaten after all. But at the mere mention of your name, the words poured from his lips, unable to stay in.

“I want to marry her,” he said simply, and at that, they all froze.

The conversation ceased, and Shouto felt the grey and blue stares of his parents looking to him while observing his siblings. The sizzling of the pan's food mockingly loud, popping and exploding at the lack of attention on it.

“I don’t agree with the initiation, the thought of sharing her… pisses me off, but she needs this,” Shouto further explained. His heart hammers in his ears, the squeeze of his stomach, making him nauseous at the knowledge of what was to come. It was inevitable, unwilling to change despite the many years and horrible results. “So, I’m here to tell you that it’s happening, and your approval of our pre-engagement.”

“Wow, Shoucchan, she must have you by the cock and balls for you to change your mind like that,” Touya was the one to break the silence, his eyes glinting with devious joy. 

“Yeah, are you sure you’re going to go through with this? I mean, you hated just participating with our spouses!” Fuyumi said, concern deep in her eyes.

“Cock and balls,” Natsuo coughed out, and Fuyumi threw a glare at their laughing brothers.

“Well, we’ve been dating for five years, and she says marriage is something she wants,” Shouto shrugged, his hands sweating from his parent's lack of response. Of course, the initiation would only take place should they allow it, and while he wanted to hear his parents admit that they loved you, he didn’t want to listen to it too. “And she’s the one for me, so here I am.”

“Cock and balls!” Touya and Natsuo cackled like a pair of hyenas, and Fuyumi turned on her heel, going over to reprimand them. 

But Shouto was now focused on his parents. Enji held onto the spatula with a steady hand, and how Rei was watching her husband cook. Shouto wasn’t registering anything his older siblings were yelling about, his attention solely on his parents, who finally looked at one another. Silent conversation through their eyes alone before finally, they looked at him.

Grey and blue met greys and blues. 

“And this is what you want, Shouto?” Rei’s voice speaks up. Her voice is soft and gentle, her eyes reaching him with motherly warmth.

“Yes,” Shouto responds in complete earnest. He wanted you above anything else.

“And y/n doesn’t know anything about what we do?” Enji asks, his stare leveled and unshakeable.

“She knows there’s an initiation,” Shouto admits, unable to lie to his parents. “I told her that was the reason why I wouldn’t propose, but she doesn’t know anything that entails.”

A soft hum sounds from Rei’s lips, her head nodding in her thought. Once more, Shouto watches his parents look at one another, silent communication between the two of them before they turn back, finalizing looks on their faces.

“Well, we absolutely adore y/n!” Rei smiles warmly, tears coming to her eyes at the thought of her baby finally getting married. “We had always hoped she was going to be the one you married!”

The strangest feeling of relief, pride, and horror sunk through Shouto while his mom enveloped him into a hug. Many more hugs were passed around, and Shouto’s smile never perked while his siblings and dad eventually embraced him in congratulations. They all wore wedding bands, the metals only shining brighter while they moved around dinner finally ready.

“A week from today, does that work?” Shouto asked, knowing full well that it would be the day you had off and the day following off. He knew that you were going to need it. 

“We’re retired, any day works,” Rei giggled, pushing Enji with her shoulder while she brought the plates of food to the table. 

“I’m free, too!” Fuyumi announced with a thumbs up.

“I can push my schedule around,” Natsuo mutters, but signals that he’s all for it.

“I guess I can, y/n is pretty enough to have me wanting to show up,” Touya sighs while slouching on the floor.

“Try and put your ugly hands on her,” Shouto snaps at his older brother, his eyes narrowing while Touya lazily smirks. 

“Oh, they’ll be in her too!”

“Well, it’s agreed upon, next week we will have our initiation,” Enji announces, his eyes narrowing at his sons, who were growing in hostility and anger. “Meet here at noon, do not tell y/n anything of what’s to happen, or else. Any objections?”

“No.” came Shouto’s response through gritted teeth.

“Good, now Shouto, are you joining us for dinner?”

“...yes,” Shouto grumbled, choosing the seat closest to Rei and sat down with a scowl that seemed more like a pout.

“Well then, here’s to the future happy couple!” Rei cheered, a glass of warm sake lifted in joy.

“Cheers!”

One week later.

You had returned home late after the day Shouto went to visit his family, exhausted and ready to collapse into Shouto’s loving and muscular arms. But when you returned to the house, you were shocked to see that he was sitting on the couch. Fingers fisted into his hair with his irritation and disbelief. 

“It’s taking place this day, next week,” Shouto groaned when you sat beside him, pressing into his side with your lips to his shoulder in silent comfort. “I’m sorry that this is the only way you have to marry me.”

“I guess you’re lucky I love you that much,” you tease, your fingers rubbing his arm. Shouto snorted, his face turning to look at you. His face was grim, obviously not at all happy with whatever the initiation was, but his eyes always warmed when he looked at you. And you were delighted to have his lips press against yours. 

So, there you sat in the car, you were dressed up in a flattering dress because the presentation was always important when meeting the Todoroki’s. You were serious about marrying Shouto, and you hoped that you would get their approval no matter what it was. 

Sighing, you looked to Shouto, who was to your right driving. His hands clenched so tight around the wheel that his knuckles illuminated with white. He was stiff, glaring out in the distance of the road while he breathed harshly. He had said that there was no official dress rule and that it would be acceptable if you showed up in anything. True to his word, Shouto was wearing a plain white t-shirt, that was partially tucked into his dark jeans. You had always enjoyed this look on him, but there was something you had to do about his smoldering aura. 

You sigh and tug his arm towards you. The way he attempts to jerk his arm away doesn’t escape you, but you still clutch his arm and lace your fingers with his. You place a soft kiss to his fingertips and smile when you see him shudder slightly and then relax. It’s a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

“You look ready to crash the car, are you okay?” you ask, stroking soft lines to the back of his hand with your thumb.

Shouto sighs and looks over at you. His face is still set with annoyance, but his eyes brighten, and his lips quirk into the smallest of smiles.

“Like I’d crash the car with you in it. If I wanted us to die, I’d be much more dramatic than that,” he says, and you laugh in protest. His smile brightens, and he brings your hand to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss to it.

Shifting in the leather seat to face him a bit better, you stretch towards him, your eyes narrow with curiosity, your fingers pinching his cheek. “Answer my question, brat!”

Shouto sits there for a bit, gathering his emotions before he sighs, irritated once again.

“It’s going to be a lot today, I know you said you could handle it and whatnot, but I’m still worried,” Shouto expressed, the slant of his eyebrows coming together, his eyes flashing as he looks at you for just a moment. “I don’t want you to hate me for this, and say you don’t want to marry me after it’s over.”

Your eyebrows scrunch. 

You knew that this had been bothering Shouto all week, and he had been rougher in every aspect. Even in bed, he had been rough and hard, leaving you breathless, bruised, and impossibly sore afterward. “You know it’s going to take more than your family initiating me for them to scare me off.”

“Yeah, I know that. I hope you keep to that opinion too,” Shouto sighs, your hand that held his tightening. “I just don’t want the worst to happen. And the worst thing that could happen is that you don’t understand why we do what we do and that you’ll leave me. Or maybe even tap out, which would mean you didn’t pass the initiation.”

“Well, I think I’m a lot stronger than you’re giving me credit!” you exclaim, pushing his arm once more so that he could glance your way once again and see how serious you were about this all. “I’m going to pass with flying colors and hear Endeavor, and Rei say I’m the best daughter-in-law!”

“I’m sure you are already the favorite, but I’m not trying to underestimate you, love. It’s not going to be easy,” Shouto sighs, his eyes glancing over to you as the two of you pull into the driveway of the Todoroki’s main estate. “This can take a turn to the worst really quickly.”

“I’ll be fine. I survived three years as a target to the League of Villains and survived. This’ll be easy as pie,” you reassure him. 

You didn’t know how to take his uneasiness. Was it a hoax? Some initiations were simple things that were way overhyped, and you weren’t sure where Shouto stood on this exactly. Shouto nods his head as he unbuckles his seatbelt, and he’s out of the door before you could question him about his insecurities. You sigh and unbuckle your belt, knowing how anxious Shouto is.

You brush your hair out of your face, and the car door opens. You looked up with a small grin as Shouto offered you a hand.

“I can’t tell you how long this’ll take, but I hope that at the end of this, you’ll love me as much as you did last week,” Shouto says. The words stir butterflies in your stomach while you roll your eyes playfully. 

As if you could ever stop loving him.

Humming, you let Shouto help you out of the car, and you couldn’t help but bring your serious boyfriend in for a gentle kiss. The kiss lasts more than a few seconds, his lips trying to get everything out of you, but you pull away, not wanting his family to be looking at the two of you somehow. The irritability on Shouto’s face is gone when you pull away, but he isn’t hiding the fact that he wanted the kiss to be longer.

“I love you,” he whispers like some prayer, a hope that you won’t hate him for this, and he closes the car door behind you.

“I love you, too,” you smile like a lovestruck idiot while he begins to lead you to the front door. “This’ll be fine! I’m sure your family will be happy with me.”

Shouto doesn’t respond, his attention focused on unlocking the front door. He slides it open and puts out a hand, holding you with a firm hand to your waist. “Let’s go.”

You smile in grace, thanking him while you stride in. You took off your heels, replacing them with their guest slippers while Shouto slides his feet into his own. The two of you walk with entwined hands, instinctively you moved towards the living room area, but was surprised when Shouto veered towards the opposite side of the hallway. Still, you said nothing, figuring that maybe it was a part of the initiation. 

With no idea of where he was taking you, you followed after Shouto, your anxiety building when you stopped outside of the house's training room. You had been in here a few times, Endeavor had invited you over for some rounds of sparring.

You remember it was the first time meeting the then number one hero as Shouto’s girlfriend, and to say the least, you had left a great impression. But still, you were in a dress, there was no way you’d be able to fight his family dressed like this.

“I love you,” Shouto whispers, his hands grabbing you by the shoulder, his stare intense. “I need you to know that.”

You chuckled, your own growing anxiety starting to taste bitter on your tongue, “I know, baby, I love you too.”

Shouto nods, his lips pressing a rigid and unmoving kiss to your lips before he sighs. He pulls away, nodding once more before turning to the doors. He opens it and ushers you in.

Much similar to when you had first come into this training room, it was void of any work out equipment, the floors lay barren except… was that a bed?

“Welcome, dear,” Rei’s voice speaks, and you turn your head to see that the matriarch of the Todoroki family is sitting in an elegant chair. Deep ruby red fabric that made the white-haired woman pop even more as she sat on it. In her hands sat a wine glass, the silvery-white dress on her setting an ethereal scene before you.

“Hello,” you respond back, your smile warm and sincere despite the way your stomach rolls in anticipation. 

What was going on?

“Shouto,” she called out, her hand gesturing towards the chair that was beside her. 

You blinked multiple times.

The chair was daunting. Made of steel, completely bolted to the floor with an excessive number of holsters attached to it. 

What on earth was going on?

There isn’t enough time to react, your face being held firmly within Shouto’s hands, and an angry, bitter kiss is scorched against your lips until he is forced away. You stay put where you were, confusion limiting your actions, but you could tell just by staring at his back that Shouto did not want to do this.

Shouto took a seat on the chair, his nostrils flaring, and his eyes an inferno.

“Y/l/n y/n,” Rei spoke with what you could only describe as glitter to her tone. The wine glass was pressed against her knee, her grey eyes observing your every move. “Do you want to marry my son, Todoroki Shouto?”

“Yes,” you speak with no hesitation, despite the anxiety bleeding into your tone. 

Her lips spread into a kind smile, her head partially nodding, and with a lift of her wine glass, the final words you would later find out to be incriminating spilled from her tainted bitter lips.

“Will you do anything we demand of you to marry him?”

A beat.

“Anything.”

A dark glint fell against her typically bright eyes, and as if from thin air, Touya and Natsuo appeared at Shouto’s side, the restraints being done immediately. His ankles, calves, and thighs were strapped to the chair, his arms shoved into a device you knew well to be a quirk nullifier, and a muzzle on his face, his head strapped to keep his gaze on the bed in the room.

You moved towards Shouto, a dread filling you because were you supposed to fight off his family while wearing this dress?! 

But before you could even begin to question what was going on, a large and hot hand envelopes your wrist, and you’re pulled backward against a taut chest.

“Welcome to our initiation!” Rei informed you sweetly, the red liquid finally spilling past her lips and into her waiting mouth.

You looked up the second you collided with a firm chest, but you can’t say you were expecting Endeavor to be behind you, one hand encasing your wrist and the other pressing your hips to his thigh. The patriarch of the Todoroki family towered over you in his height and massive build, but he wasn’t staring at you, his eyes not at all concerned by your horrified expression. Instead, he was staring at Shouto, a cold smirk on his face.

“She’s quite dolled up,” he spoke, the tone of his voice sending a shiver of fear down your spine.

Enji looked down at you, almost thrilled that you hadn’t already passed out like some other people who have tried the trails of this initiation. “He didn’t tell you what was going on today, correct?”

“N-No,” you flinch, feeling the way that his heavy hands touch the insides of your thigh lustfully. Did you imagine the way that his fingers seemed to feather over your skin?

“Each blood member of the Todoroki family gets an opportunity to breed you,” Rei piped up, and with your heart pounding in your ears, you looked over at the white-haired mother who was surrounded by all her children. Touya smirking, Fuyumi smiling, Natsuo winking, and Shouto glaring holes into his father's head. “They get to fuck you in however way they see fit to make sure you’re cut out for my baby boy. Don’t tap out for the next six rounds, and the Todoroki last name is all yours.”

There’s no denying that you finally understood why Shouto didn’t want to propose, but with your fears still forming cohesive sentences on your lips, a loud sound of tearing fabric beats the words from your mind.

“Wow, that’s some lingerie she’s wearing, Shouto, are you sure you didn’t tell her?” Touya asks, his lips pulling into a snide smirk while your arms instinctively went to cover the indecent state you were in. It wasn’t as if you had worn lingerie. As a matter of fact, you were only clad in a simple black cotton pantie and bra, but that didn’t keep you from blushing like a prude. A loud rattling of chains is the only noise from Shouto, but you were too busy trying to fight the tears forming in your eyes when Enji’s hands met your breasts.

Twisted feelings squirmed under your skin while Enji manipulated your breasts, tugging at the warm flesh. You felt frozen to the core. What was going on?!

“What are you doing?!” you splutter the moment Enji raises you from the floor, his hands twisting you so that you are now facing him, and adjusting you roughly so that you were only aware of him. 

You and Enji had a good relationship, but there was no denying that the look on his face right now was one you should never give to your son's significant other. His face was dark, the scar on his face looking more ragged, impossibly wild. 

“You seem like a nice girl,” he states, his hands pressing your hips firmly against his crotch, and you could feel the growing length that he had in his pants. “Nice hips, firm legs, you’d look so pretty full of cum, so pretty pregnant with our blood.”

Something curls deep within your skin, sitting restlessly onto your nerves only to be interrupted by Enji’s teeth burying into your neck. You flinch away, your body trembling under the undeniable embers that sprout as he inflicts a bite on you. Enji sits on the edge of the bed, his hands gripping your waist so that you were straddling his thigh. The muscles' indentations and curves on his legs added an unholy feeling to the slick that soaked your panties.

His eyes train on the way you sit on his thigh, your cunt growing wet and wetter when he shifts you back, then forward. Your puffy and sensitive clit continued to rub up against the rivets of his muscle. You whined loudly at the teasing friction, the stupidly soft friction, and if he was anything like Shouto, there would be much, much more. 

“You’re so tiny compared to me,” Enji growls, continuing to grind you against his thick thigh. It was almost a ridiculous sight, you on his massive thigh. His distinctive muscles ridged against your sensitive clit, stimulating you to no end while you cried mercy, and his hand smacked your pert ass.

“What— What are you doing?!” you squeak and flinch when you're slammed against the mattress. The oxygen in your lungs shortens immediately; the burning of your skin explodes when the panties are burnt from your body. 

“Do you not understand what Rei meant when she said we get to breed you?” He asks, his eyes taking in the way that your legs are hopeless in shutting him off. The thickness of his hips and thighs overwhelmed any strength you could ever have. The sounds of a zipper echo in your ears, and you barely have time to peer down when his cock comes out.

Hard as a rock, thicker than your forearm, and already leaking.

“I must admit, the day Shouto brought you home, I was hoping this day would come,” Enji chuckled humorlessly, his left hand fisting his already erect cock, and his right hand slamming your struggling hips down. “Now, let’s see what exactly about your cunt drives Shouto wild.”

If you thought you knew what pain was before right now, you had to be wrong. 

Enji’s girth was overwhelming, nearly splitting your shuddering tight walls while he buried his cock entirely within you. Nausea builds in the back of your throat, your hips bucking in their relentless attempt to adjust to the way that he was splitting your walls in two, and the choke that gargles from your mouth only seemed to be a sweet symphony to the other members of the family. 

“SHIT!” you cried, painful tears pushing past your eyes, dripping down your cheeks while Enji shuddered.

“You’ve got a really tight cunt,” he growls, his hips shifting against you, setting off another round of painful screams while he situates within you. “No wonder why Shouto wanted you for himself… mhm, this is nice. A tight young pussy always means a fertile womb.”

His hips then begin to thrust upward into you, the tip of his cock unable to reach the beginnings of your walls that he seemed to attempt to get to with each powerful blow. But it was his girth that had your body tensed, back arched in pain, eyes clenched in nothing but pain.

Pain. Pain. Pain.

“Hey!” SLAP. 

Your head snapped to the side, a burning, stinging pain on your cheek, alerting you that your eyes were closed. Your piqued breathing spluttered as if you were having some sort of asthma attack. Enji looked down at you, turquoise eyes burning devilishly down at you, his lips curled into an unapproving snarl while his hands pushed at the bottom of your knees. “Don’t you dare take your eyes off me this entire time. Don’t waste my time.”

You whimper loudly, the feeling of his forcibly moving hips getting to be much easier on you, no longer a wave of intensive horrifying pain, but mild throbbing pain. “You have to be gentler, you’re so much bigger than mE!!!”

The sheets' fabric under your body seared with heat when Enji shoved you further onto the bed. The bed dipped under his weight, your legs twitching almost pathetically around his waist while your sight nearly blackened with his next action. With his drilling hips and snarling speed, your screams and shouts of pain, pleasure, and fear were interrupted by an enormous fist around your neck. And his mouth pressed into your cheek.

“Don’t you know how to teach your whore to be quiet, Shouto?” Enji hisses, his thick hand clenching around your neck. Oxygen refused to flow to your lung, and you went light-headed, choking noises emitting from you while he continued to slam his cock in you, your clenching and almost splitting walls unable to keep up with the speed of the retired number one hero. “I don’t want to hear you drown out my lovely wife at all, do you understand?”

Your head throbbed, the blood forcibly kept in your head, and the lack of oxygen made your world spin. 

Rei?

Soft whispers hit your ears, and in a panic, you realized that Rei was, in fact, speaking. Her attention is on you, eyes bright with lust watching her husband's cock ramming into you with the speed and strength of only accomplished pro heroes. But she was whispering to Shouto, who seemed to be doing everything in his power to escape. 

But as if you could read Shouto’s mind, his eyes reached yours, and you didn’t see regret at all in his eyes. No, nothing in him stated that he didn’t regret putting you here, because there was a simmer in his eyes. Something that told you that he shouldn’t be enjoying this… but he was. 

That sent endless shivers down your spine, emitting choking coughs from your mouth.

“There we go,” Enji sighs, his broad chest pressing your thighs into the bed, cutting off what limited oxygen you had left, and increasing pleasure within you by a tenfold.

“Shit, such a filthy fucking cunt you have,” he savages, your walls spasming against him with his wild, obscene thrusts. He moves his hands so that they press against your knees, pushing them into the mattress, increasing the ability of which he drills down into you. Your strangled scream goes unnoticed by Enji, your fingers scraping against his scarred back, a desperate plea for him to be softer.

But he wasn’t someone who cared.

The sounds of his cock slamming into your sopping pussy created loud wet noises that made you cry in embarrassment. Your face felt like it was seconds from popping out, Enji’s weight crushing you on top of the abhorrent position he was fucking you in, but he found it as an excuse to speed up. His rugged grunts are warnings in your ears as his cock finally hits your cervix with consistency that makes you wail. The stretch he gave you was boggling, and you were progressively less aware as he drilled in harder. His slams were so hard the sound of his thighs hitting your ass let out a continuous and loud slap.

There was no denying that you and Shouto had been rough in bed. Hell, at least thrice a week, he had your skin bruised and bleeding, his back forever scarred with your fingernails, but this was on a whole new level. 

The force in which Endeavor slammed his hips to meet yours, the growling pants in your ear that sent a liquid fire that could never match the heat of his quirk to your core when your head smashed against the bed frame. “That’s fucking right,” he laughs, drool pouring past your lips, your eyes crossing. Pleasured sobs expelled from your lips, invigorating something powerful within the entire family who watches on with impatient stares at the sight of your squeezing cunt around Eniji’s cock. “Take my fucking cock, bitch, don’t fucking pass out yet, we’re not done.”

He pistoled into your gripping core with the intent of getting himself off, uncaring, unmotivated by your pathetic whining, and crying. But your thrashing and wailing do not stop Enji, nor do they lessen the pace and the force he’s settled in as the bed begins to creak with every powerful thrust.

“I needa— holy shit, r-right there!”

“What? Do you need to come already?” Enji mocks you pushing up off you so his back is curved, and your body so small underneath him.

Your eyes can no longer stay open as the only noises leaving your mouth are whines and begs for more. You forcibly clench around him in an attempt to stir a reaction from him, but all he does is snarl quietly as he continues his rutting force. The pounding is rhythmic. His balls bruising your ass where he hits you. The feeling of Enji’s cock entering and leaving you draws your eyes to the back of your head as you pathetically whimper his name, his thighs hitting your ass at bruising force, only adding to your pleasure. Your heart hammering in your ears as you heard Enji snap at you.

“I thought I told you to keep your eyes on me at all times.”

Before you could even pathetically open your eyes, his cock has removed from your cunt, your body spasming from his lack of fill. Your mouth sobbing at his absence, a need for him to return despite the undeniable tremor and ache of your core. He’s off your body as well, and oxygen floods your lungs in dizzying and shallow pants. Your vision fuzzies out, and you stare almost brokenly at Shouto, who meets your gaze with a burning fire.

“Watch and learn, Shouto, this is how you handle someone who doesn’t know how to listen.”

You don’t have time to digest his words, Enji grabbing you by the roots of your hair and pulling you to your knees. You only manage to get a sharp cry out, pain flaring in your scalp when you're thrown onto your knees before Enji. 

Your body feels tired already, sore, and beaten, but Enji looks down at you with blazing turquoise eyes, and his calloused fingers rub at his length. You blink once, thrice, and his hot and wet with your slick cock slaps your face. “Open up, whore.”

There isn’t any time to question because the crown of his cock pushed past your lips and the taste of Enji and your essence filled you. 

But ever so demanding, Enji wastes no time starting his punishment.

You try to keep up with the momentum of his viciously thrusting hips, your jaw already aching with the vast space you need to keep his cock in your mouth, and you choke against him the moment his swollen head hits the back of your throat. Enji groans, his hands cemented onto the back of your neck, his moans tight and low, and his cock twitching in your mouth.

“Look at you, you’re good at this,” Enji observes, his fingers moving to slap your sensitive nipple, making you cry around his cock. “Too fucking good.”

The words ignite a fire within you, and your legs tremble in unneeded glee, but there’s something about the way that having all their eyes piercing your every move, studying the way your cheeks subconsciously hollow around his cock that thrills you. You wanted them all to fuck you until you were nothing less than a mess. You needed him to give you his cock back instead of sucking him off, your cunt crying in need of being filled — needing more than the undesirable rubbing of your thighs together.

 Your arms shot out, gripping the back of Enji’s thighs as you willed him closer. Your jaw widening, hot breaths of air expelling from your mouth. You could feel Shouto’s angry eyes burning you. So you moaned louder, your tongue lashed against his swollen head. Enji’s thighs clench when your mouth sucks against the head of his cock, your tongue pressing flat against the tip.

 “Did someone finally fucking wake up?” Enji grunts, his hips moving with more unrestrained power into your mouth.

Making a pleasant sound, you hollow your cheeks out and taste the saltiness of his pre-cum. Delighting at the harsh curse, you guided him further in. One of his hands is soon braced on the fuck machine between your legs, but the other is tangled in your hair, pulling it and twisting it as he wishes. He’s pulling hard enough to hurt, tears springing uncontrollably into your stinging eyes, enough so that you can choke against him, the angle and the position on your back already increasing the likelihood of that happening.

Enji’s grip on your hair tightens, and he realizes that you’re keeping up, his once sneer evolving to one of sinister appreciation and glee. His dance between aggression and savagery is an art. You don’t have time to trail his bulging veins with your tongue; he steers his cock further down your throat. You don’t bother to hide how satisfied you are by his action as you relax your throat, letting him all in.

 “Fuck,” he hisses, his hips bucking forward, he can’t stop himself from demanding more. You don’t mind; you open wider to take more of him in, and his cock thrusts further down your throat. He’s now panting, in his desperation, judging from the strangled sound he makes as you take him even deeper. “I didn’t think you’d be able to do this. I guess we’re — shit — full of surprises.”

The thought of being good enough makes you moan, and you gag softly, trying to take him deep enough now that he must be able to feel the vibrations from your throat because that makes him hiss out another curse. He’s shaking with the effort of slamming his cock down your throat. Your fingers holding onto his clenched muscles to the best of your ability.

The raw, primal, and wet noises of his cock entering and leaving your throat are maniacal, your hands leaving his thighs to press onto your needing cunt. 

He’s underestimating you, however; you could take him in all power and length he could muster. You know that as you begin bobbing your head, and the hiss that breathes past his lips. Digging your fingers into your clit, you cry around him, and finally, he notices what you’re doing.

Enji grunts, his hands slapping your hands away from your weeping walls. You choke against his cock, the building pleasure in your core gone, leaving you behind sputtering and gagging against his slamming cock, “Did you think I stopped fucking your cunt so you could do it in my stead, whore? That’s my cunt to fuck right now, don’t you dare. Fucking. Touch. It.” Every enunciation has your nose burying into his skin, the tears flowing from your eyes intermixing with the drool that is pouring from your mouth as he shoves you back down onto the bed. 

You gasp loudly, your chest heaving with the burning pain as you stare at his purpling, thick cock that looks seconds from exploding. You shiver in delight.

Shouto stares at you, his once fiery eyes silent ice. Cold, dangerous, deadly.

“Such a disobedient daughter-in-law. First, you don’t look at me. Next, you deliberately touch yourself when you’re supposed to be pleasing me?! How am I supposed to believe that you’ll be suitable for my precious Shouto when you clearly can’t follow instructions,” Endeavor chides, his hand twisting something you can’t make out. Your eyes were heavy, pain, and pleasure swelling through every active cell in your body. “Let’s hope you don’t choke on your saliva, now do we?” There was nothing you could say in response as his fingers buried in your mouth, and you gag at the pressure on your tongue.

And just like before, pain exploded in your body. The fingers in your mouth pressing unfairly into your mouth further inducing the choking madness that threatened to have you puking against the sheets as he shoved inch by inch of his completely swollen cock into your tight cunt. You fail to keep up, broken, horrible sobs muffled from your mouth while he finally bottomed out in you.

You twisted in pain, trying to move away from him, but were held in place. 

“Stay still, and take it,” Enji growls, not at all amused with the panic fluttering through you. The way that Shouto held your tearful gaze made your spinning head nearly fall off your shoulders. So cold, so unattached to what was happening. Your sobs soon fade to gargled chokes, your ass clenching against his deliberately moving cock, but Enji seems to enjoy that you were adjusting so fast to what was going on. Slowly, your sobs become whimpers, whimpers becoming heaving breathing until you adapt to the jarring pain that was Enji’s fat cock in your pussy again.

“Make sure you suck my fingers, whore,” he whispers, and with that, he seems to unleash everything he had, no longer caring about how you were feeling.

In and out, he moves, his hips moving faster than a manageable speed, only slightly hindered by your clenching velvet slicked walls, and your eyes welled with tears at the constipated feeling in your stomach. His fingers tweak and pull at your clit, then nipples, savagely teasing them, uncaring that your lips left drooling puddles on the bed, you could barely suction around his thick fingers. 

Your gaze was still locked on Shouto, his gaze delighting you. But as if Enji could read your thoughts, his thrusting movements became quicker, harder, and more solid until a familiar sensation of his balls slapping your skin burns into your mind and your body.

You whimper against the bed, your teeth sinking into his fingers, your back arched to sinfully, your eyes crossing in your delirium. Drool coats your chin, your body nothing more than his fuck toy. Enji’s sweating, unshaven chin scrapes against your shoulder, his voice diminishing into growls and snarls, the pinch on your clit, making your hips buck against his cock, and he began to barbarically slam into you.

 Your body moves with his every movement, your slick dripping from your cunt, and he lets go of your nipple. In your crazed state, you sob at the loss of contact, but his hand strikes against your soaked clit with a loud sound. The force alone nearly sends your eyes focused, your vision blurring when his finger dives into your lonesome asshole.

 More and more fingers join his initial one working double the speed of which his hips slam into you. His fingers pushing the limits of your ribbed walls; he curls his fingers against your walls, dragging and coaxing them deliciously against your clenching heat. Moving his fingers against his cock; the thin walls that separated his fingers and his cock brushed together, sending you into a new frenzy while you sobbed his name against the gag.

Begging for more, begging to come.

“I want you to come now,” he snaps, you moaned loudly, knowing that he was nowhere close. “Come, you filthy bitch, cum against your father-in-laws cock.”

You garble against the gag, your jaw unable to move for its slack against the mattress, electrifying pleasure singing your nerves, and with a loud smack to your pussy, you come hard against his cock, clenching him in a vice grip.

Each powerful snap of his hips sending your back arching to the heavens, the balls of your feet digging bruisingly into his back. In and out he goes, your cunt nothing more than a cocksleeve for him, and your wanton screams and mewls taking him further and further.

Enji all but laughs into your ear, his hand pressing your head so that you could stare at Shouto while he fucked your pussy, his breath hot and heavy in your ear while he taunts you. “Wouldn’t that be embarrassing? Nine months from now and not being able to tell if the bitch in your womb will be from the rest of my sons or me. You, my son’s future wife, giving birth to his half brother half son, that would be something, huh?” you sob in the thought, not because it’s horrible, but because it makes your cunt throb ludicrously in thought. “I’m going to fill you up so good, whore. You’ll be leaking my cum for days. I’m going to make sure you carry the Todoroki gene, and I hope that it’s my son you carry.”

The words incite clenching heat in your core, your lips unable to form anything but a weak, pitiful moan because the thought of being filled to the max with Todoroki cum makes your mind spin. More, you want to milk them all dry. You want nothing more than that.

With a ragged breath, a consecutive full thrusts that send his cock slamming against your cervix, Enji cums fully within you. His load is long and heavy, your belly feeling like it's bulging when he finally emerges from your cunt. His once hard cock limping in his hands while you lay there defeated, your intermixed cum spilling from your pulsing cunt. 

“Look at that,” he muses, and you can feel warm, thick liquid dripping from your cunt and down onto your ass. “A pretty dessert.”

You lay on the mattress, breathing ragged, uncomposed, desperate. “Come on, you’re going to have to do better to last another five rounds,” Enji growls, his hand guiding his cock down to you, but he was on his feet. Towering over you, you turned to look at him, eyes heavy with everything you’ve been through already, and then something warm hit you. Warm, wet, retched smelling. Urine fell over your legs, splashing among your stomach and ankles, soaking you with secretion you never thought would touch you in such a way. 

“Isn’t this what they do to mark a bitch?” he asks, his voice filled with humor as if he had told the world’s funniest joke. But the spirit dies quickly, replaced with a sinister seriousness that has you gasping in both horrors and need. “Don’t forget who you belong to now, y/n, you’re the Todorokis’.”

 “Leave it to this fucking idiot to piss all over you when no one else has had their fun,”  a grumbled response comes to your left the moment Enji leaves your side. 

Your neck aches, your throat raw when your eyes locked gazes on Touya, who looked at your naked, piss-drenched body with a look of disdain. “I can’t fuck her like this, how fucking gross are you, Endeavor? Just because you go first, so you don’t have limp dick during the best part doesn’t mean you get to fucking do this.”

Touya’s hands grabbed you by your wrists, yanking you up onto your feet so that you stood off the bed. His hand gripped the ruined sheets, burning them instantly. There was nothing left behind on the bed, not even billowing ashes as you stared with your jaw-dropping in thought. Then something cold, wet, and smelling heavily of chemicals pressed against your skin. Touya rubbed cleaning towels against your body, rubbing you dry with a look of disgust on his face.

“I’m not against pissing on whores, trust me, but like hell I’m fucking someone covered in Endeavor’s piss,” Touya growled, shoving you onto the bare mattress to clean off your legs. Your skin felt rubbed raw by the time he was done with you, but you lay there, staring up into his turquoise eyes while his head tilted in thoughts. He took in your body with cold, calculating eyes, an aura of mystery falling on him. “You really are hot. I almost can’t blame Shouto for not wanting to give you to us in this way. I would never share a slut like you, that’s for sure.”

Your chest hitched. The way that he stalked you up onto the bed, crawling after you with an almost crazed, almost insane glint in his eyes that screamed at you, was dangerous. Every cell in your body telling you that this wasn’t safe, that you needed to get away, but you wanted that ring on your finger. You wanted Shouto.

“Where do we begin?” Touya asked, his voice void of the craze you saw in his eyes, sinisterly sweet, utterly dangerous.

There was no helping the way your instincts told you to run, nor that you listened to your instincts without even noticing most of the time. With every move he made towards you, there was an equal retreat from you. But with as little as three moves away from him, Touya grew tired of your game of cat and mouse. And his lips curled into a snarl. 

“I guess the old man didn’t do shit about your independent flare, did he?” Touya spat, his eyes narrowing, his hand grasping your ankle before you could even think of escaping further. “Let me tell you something slut. I don’t like playing around. You give me what I want, when I want, when I say so, or else you’ll get fucked over. Do you understand?”

You couldn’t say yes or no; you only kicked the air when he dragged you towards him suddenly, your knees burning into the bare mattress, your lips gasping loudly. You were dropped onto his lap; Touya was now sitting at the edge of the bed, his knees burying into your stomach, and you wheezed with the pressure. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, your head trying to look at the eldest Todoroki son, your body shifting in your raising fear. You knew what was going on, you weren’t that much of an idiot, but the panicked words still poured past your lips before you could try to stop them. His hand pressed against your bare, sore ass. His hand moving up and down your cheeks, circling and kneading the soft flesh as if in contemplation. But for you, it was nothing short of anxiety-ridden torture.

There was a moment of silence while his hands disappeared from your skin, and you thought maybe he wasn’t going to spank you after all. Licking your lips, you turned your head to see what exactly his expression was. But you were too late.

His hand rose and fell with extreme force. His right hand slamming down against your ass cheek, the sharp slap noise made your body clench in his wake, you shriek while your skin throbbed in his path. The pain made your legs buckle, a hot pressure reigniting in your core, and another loud slap repeated on your other ass cheek.

You yelped loudly when Touya yanked your head back. The arch in your back was dramatized by this action; your back ached as another heavy slap echoed against your throbbing, sensitive skin. His light, almost wild breathing hits the shell of your ear, and chills shoot down your spine when he snarls.

“If I want to be cruel, you better understand that you have no say if I am or not!” he laughs in your ear, his hand landing harshly against your throbbing, pinching skin. “Was the rules of the initiation to make sweet love to Shouto’s wannabe wife? No—” his hand comes down against your ass with great powerful slaps, ignoring your growing shriek and screams— “it was fuck you however we wished. I don’t give a fuck about what you want, about the way Shouto is seconds from ripping from his chains. I will fuck you until you’re blistered and bruised. Do. You. Understand?”

You can’t find the will to answer, your body convulsing and shaking with pained pleasure, your tongue unable to form any sort of words from the stinging, burning pain, the only noise you can emit are screams. The next spank that comes across your ass nearly sends you tumbling off his lap. Your arms pressing desperately onto the edge of the mattress and onto the floor, the weight and struggle to keep yourself upright was a challenge as Touya abused your ass until you could feel the outline of his hand rising from your skin.

“Answer me, slut.”

There was no stopping Touya’s heavy hand against your pert ass, his nails digging into your stinging flesh, and you could not think of anything but how your cunt throbbed for the man beneath you. Your sobs of pain had slowly turned into those of pleasure, and you could feel Touya’s fingernails most definitely cut into your sore cheeks, the cut flesh stinging even more than the others. It delighted you.

“Y-Yes, Touya!” you pant, your body trembling in your blossoming excitement and need for more.

“You like this, don’t you,” he barks with nearly crazed laughter while he rubs circles against your heated skin. His eyes are locked with his youngest brother, uncaring about your reactions, but gleefully seeking the way that it was on Shouto who could match the raging glare Touya had perfected. “Look at her, Shouto! She’s a desperate fucking slut! Do you fuck her like this at home?! She’s trembling with excitement, and she was trying to get away from me this entire time. Should I fuck her until she no longer wishes for your cock? Maybe she’ll leave you for me! Ha! The thought of that! I wouldn’t mind a slut looking like this! With no clothes, no way back from this? Oh, she’s perfect!” His laughter is cut off at the way the chains and the metal around Shouto’s wrist for a moment are unable to contain his quirk, the metal building with frost and ice, coloring red on the other end. Touya grins, his eyes dropping from his raging baby brother to return his attention to you. “Count the number of times I spank you, I want to hear you counting and thanking me every time.”

Slap.

“One.”

Your words were barely above a hoarse whisper, just enough for the entire family to hear you count as you trembled like a leaf on his lap. His taunting words to Shouto had a significant effect on you, on top of Shouto managing to for a brief second overpower the quirk canceling restraints had you seeing the heavens and the hells while you sighed contently. His upper lip pulled back into a sneer as he let go of your hair, throwing your head down. You yelped in pain when your head smashed into his thigh and once again when his fingers went and pinched your swollen pussy lips.

“I know you can fucking scream louder than that, don’t make me ask again for the thank you too. I’m not doing charity work. Try again.”

Slap.

“One! Thank you!”

Your mind reeled as Touya continued his conquest against your ass. 

“Two, tHANK YOU!” you screamed, feeling his burning hand landing against your ass.

Touya’s laughter rang merrily in your ears as he continued to abuse, to slam his palms against your ass. You could barely remember the number you were on the numbers pouring past your lips. Nothing more than some thickly coated babble that he took in acceptance anyways. The added sensation of his alternating heated and standard hand that almost felt like ice against your burning, blistering ass increased the desire in you to find you as you were now. 

Ass bright red and in the air, your blood long dried against your throbbing skin, thighs trembling where they were pressed onto Touya’s lap, and saliva and tears seeping onto your weak, shaking arms.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he cooes as two of his fingers slide against your wet slit, and your ragged moans fill the room with the need of more. He continues petting your folds, and while his other hands move to gently stroke your abused ass, your hips begin to buck against his wandering hands, trying to get them to slip between the folds. “Such a greedy little slut. Do you want me to fuck you with just my fingers? That would be a little boorish.”

His chuckle is barely heard by you, for as he said that, he pressed the head of three of his scarred fingers into your cunt. A sharp whine slams from your throat as he pulls away just as quickly. The empty teasing of his action makes you crave more. You shift your ass back, the action full of temporary regret as soring pain flashes through your lower body. He did not hold back.

Gritting your teeth, you continued pushing against him, craving more.

“Is this not good enough for you?” Touya chuckles, but there’s that twisted humor to his laughter that sinks like a stone in your stomach. “Wonderful, truly perfect.”

His weight shifts, and the next thing you know, your back on the mattress. Your ass presses against the rough material, and you sob in pain at the feeling of the blisters and burning, bruised flesh of your ass pressing into the mattress. You fall onto your knees, trying to alleviate the coursing pain that throbs through your body from his past ministrations. But Touya is busy doing something else, his hands handling something black, shiny, and tight.

“W-What is that?” you grimace through your pain, your eyes watering slightly while you stare up at Touya, who stretches the black material in his hands. The material is foreign to you; you’re unsure of what it is, only that you’re increasingly positive that it’s latex and that there are two small holes in the center of them.

“I’m an ass guy,” Touya states simply, his eyes concentrated on the latex in his hands before his eyes dropped to your chest. “But I can appreciate a good pair of boobs when I see them. You, my darling fucking slut, need… something done to yours.”

Your eyes blink rapidly while you take in his Chesire grinning form, his hands stretching out the material once again as he stalks towards you, his steps on the mattress commanding and near fearful to you. His hands brought to your chest and slammed you're onto your back. You howled in the stabbing pain on your ass and back, the raging anger from Shouto a bare wisp when Touya straddles you where you lie. His knee keeps your hips from rising off the bed, the painful stabs spreading through your body as you desperately cry in need of relief.

“Oh, I love when a slut cries,” Touya brims with sadistic joy, his tongue reaching towards your cheeks and licking the salty, hot tears that pour from your eyes. “The last bitch who came our way passed out after the old man fucked her, I like you a lot. I wonder if you’ll pass out with me! Don’t worry, though; if you do, I’ll make sure to wake you back up! I won’t let you miss out on anything!”

Through your sobs, your eyes remain clenched, trying to focus on anything that wasn’t the stabbing heartbeat in your ass. But when you finally cracked open an eye, tears still heavy in your eyes, dripping with no restraint, did you finally see what that latex was for.

Your breasts were roughly put through the holes that looked no bigger than a child's fist. Touya’s hands roughly guide your breasts through so that they come out on the other side. Immediately you could feel the discomfort in this; the blood circulating in your breasts slowed to the point of no blood passing, your breasts throbbing with every beat of your heart that caused blood to flow there. 

Through this latex trap, your breasts are shaped into something akin to teardrops, the skin already discoloring from the lack of proper flow. You moaned in pain, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Touya slapped your tit.

“Oh yeah, there we go, so much prettier!” he delighted, his finger flicked your engorged nipple, your bottom lip trembling with undeniable pain. “Does that feel good, y/n? It looks good, I hope you’re fine?”

You can’t find the words to respond, your head swimming with drowning waves of both pain and pleasure. Your eyes can only heavily blink, but your gaze was miles away, unable to focus or see anything as you attempted to adjust to the thundering pain. “Imma… fuck…” was the only thing you could manage.

Touya’s head cocked to the side, his hands still paddling your breasts around with no care to the way you were pathetically whimpering with every small stroke of his fingers.

“You want to fuck already, slut?” he asked, a mocking frown on his face while he shook his head. “You haven’t even seen my cock yet!”

While he stood up, his foot still pressed your aching ass onto the mattress, and you wheezed heavily. Proudly, Touya discarded the boxers he wore and freed his cock in all its glory. You stared at his cock, your pain is forgotten suddenly at the sight of the piercing full cock he had. The swollen dripping red head of his cock bounced up to hit his stomach, and you could only look at the piercings that littered his genitals. There were so, so many of them. Many of which you knew by name already, but so much more you couldn’t even begin to name.

“What?” he mocks, his lips splitting into a curling smile. “Never seen a real man’s cock before?”

He gave you no time to even consider what to do, for he reached down, his fingers clenching your hair at the roots, and threw you back up onto your ass. Your skin sang in pain, feeling as if it was melting as it pressed against the rough mattress. His hands tugged up and down against his pierced cock. The white hair of his pubes almost glistening in promise to be soaked in both your essence with time.

“I expect to be fucked well,” Touya says, his fist guiding his cock toward your grimacing mouth, and his other hand bringing you closer and closer. “Open those slutty legs.” 

Your legs don’t open on time, and the leaking pre-cum smears all over your legs. This was unacceptable for Touya, and his eyes flash dangerously, his hand striking against your cheek, bruising your face as you cried out. But he takes this as an initiative to thrust your legs open and sinks down as far as he can go while not straining you yet. 

This was a whole new level of sensation. Touya’s cock, while not as big as Shouto’s or Enji’s cock, had the ice-cold piercing lining all over his cock, tickling and dragging against your puffy, swollen walls. Your fingers pressed up against his back, and you moaned at the new sensations. You push further against him, adding to the now frantic rhythm, fucking against his cock with enough vigor to make Touya cackle out your name.

“Look at you go! You are a good cock slut! I had my doubts, but fuck — yes, just like that!” his voice a mantra for your actions, his hands pressing flat on your neck and shamelessly, recklessly fucking you faster.

You relax against his rocking hips, you’re focused on your breathing as his cock moves up and down your cunt, the piercings adding to the stimulation. 

Deeper and deeper, you feel his cock move within you. But one hand moves from your neck and slams down against your breasts. Just like that, your bodily discomforts thrust back into you at full speed, your body contorting and hissing at the way your breasts throbbed in pain. However, with your attention broken, Touya slammed his cock all the way into your cunt, the steel point of a piercing stabbing your womb

It caught you off guard, your throat legs kicking his hips, suffocating gags and chokes emitting from your mouth while you forgot how to breathe through the pain and his hand around your throat. Your hands pounded on his back, your face feeling like it was purpling, your body thumping with your pounding blood, and lack of air.

“Hold it there, slut, hold it!” Touya hisses, his eyes gleeful and sadistic. Your eyes blinked heavily with tears when you looked up to see Touya’s eyes closed, his eyes rolled to the back of his head in a pleasurable activity. “I know which piercing you’re feeling… good…” he sighs, finally pulling you from his length. You spluttered loudly, hacking for air when he removed his hand from your throat. 

With a twist to your throbbing nipples and a yank of your hair, his cock carded between your sopping lips. Moans and pants spilling out with every wild thrust of his against your clit. 

The feeling of his calloused fingers digging into your side, flipping you over, stung with a burning sensation. All you know is that your body burned where he touched you, and your thighs ached as you settled on your stomach. You wanted his cock buried deep within you; you wanted more than anything to feel those piercing rutting against your sopping walls without restraint. You wanted more.

“How the fuck am I supposed to fuck you like that?” Touya snaps at you, breaking you from your trance. Your eyes widen when you shift your head to look at Touya, whose cock is fully erect, and you realize in growing heat that he was going to fuck you from behind. Something was maddening sweet about these Todoroki men fucking you from behind, to feel their tight chest pressed against your back.

Your fingers dug into the mattress as you groaned loudly, your ass rising off the bed, but not enough for your knees to position themselves correctly. His body heat radiated onto you from behind, and you rub your thighs together at the thought of Touya gripping your ass as he drilled into you from behind. He drew nearer, spacing your rubbing thighs apart, so your heated cunt met the unmerciful cold air of the room.

You spluttered against the mattress, your voice a soft and needing whine as you stared behind you in desperation.

“You fuck me with your cock,” you reply back, hoping that in moments like these, it would help in your favor. You’re not sure what effect it took on Touya, only that his lips pulled back into a shark-like grin, his turquoise eyes drowning you in a deep color while he barked in laughter.

“Get on your knees,” Touya smoothly stated, his voice creamy smooth, adding to the gentle way that his fingernail was caressing and stroking your soaked inner thighs.

“Nope.”

“Oh?” Touya breathed, his tongue dragging across his lip in a way that made you shudder at your response. This was a mistake you made, you knew that, but the blistering fire in your core made you reconsider.

There was no time to react when Touya’s hands were suddenly filled with ties, and he grabbed your wrists in his hand and tugged you behind you towards him. Before you could attempt to pull back, to resist being bound because you absolutely hated not being able to move your arms, the tie is properly looped around your arms, and you’re locked in place.

“Now on your chest and knees like a good slut,” Touya directs, running a hand through his sweaty locks while spreading out his stance, still on his knees. The ties were almost uncomfortable with how tight they were, and you remained stagnant, staring at the white-haired sadist who was looking increasingly more frustrated with you. He was someone who commanded and demanded respect and attention, and you had your own fun chipping away at it all. But with your lack of action, his expression sours, and he grasps your hair in his hand, yanking you back so that your chest lifted off the bed, leaving only your discolored nipples grazing the mattress. “Are you fucking deaf?”

You gasp loudly when Touya’s hand slams your face to the mattress, your back curved, arms pressed into your shoulder blades.

“I thought sluts had better form than this,” Touya sneers while pressing a heavy hand against the center of your spine. You adjusted immediately under his force, your back arching with your pert ass in the air still bright and blistered in the air. “There, you look much better.”

The mattress pressed against your chest in a suffocating way, your heart hammering as you realized what was to come.

Rei’s voice drowned back into the background, and you looked at the giggling wine drinking monarch of the family, but regret-filled your loins, the coil in your stomach lessening in your fear. Touya was above you, silent as a monk, giving no emotions or feelings for you to read, that is until he began. The bed shifted by your knees, and you could only imagine what was happening as you could feel his pierced cock carding against your sopping folds, the piercing on the top of his cock dragging deliriously against your puffy clit. With a shivering moan from your lips, he pulled back before slamming profoundly and entirely into you.

A raw scream ripped through your mouth, your body nearly collapsing under his touch. His piercings were staggeringly cold in your heated cunt, sizzling, and burning against your puffy walls. There was no denying the fact that they added a whole new world of friction, deliciously and viciously dragging against the curves of your spongy walls, your bucking, spasming body doing nothing to make the pleasure any less. It only gave you more, and with the stinging in your ass. the loss of feeling in your breasts, and the now twitching overstimulated feeling in your cunt. Your eyes slammed to the back of your head.

The pure unadulterated lust and strength in every drop of his cock in your cunt were something you thought you should handle — but those piercings had drool pouring past your lips. With each hypnotizing slam of his hips, shrill shrieks of pleasures ripped from your throat, and you preened your head to look at Touya.

Sure enough, Touya was positioned on his feet, his knees bent as he dropped into your awaiting cunt with such savagery that your eyes rolled back watching him. Sweat dripped down his neck, his hands gripping your bruised and battered ass like some type of life support, and the squelching noises of your slamming sex were making your body weak.

“That feels so — ohmygod ohmygod — do that! Yes, yes, yes!”

“I want you to look at Shoucchan!” Touya bristled, his smile burning against your back. “Look at him, and tell him who’s making you feel this way?! Who’s making your cumdump pussy throb and clench with need and desire?”

“Y-You!” You scream, your hips buck against his slamming hips. It was so raw, so rough, and you were enjoying every passing second. “You are!”

“Look at him fucking bitch!” Touya snarls, his hand slapping your ass with a powerful stinging force, and his fingers moved to pinch your inflated breasts. You howled in a pleasure-filled pain, your tearing eyes looking at Shouto in your hysteria, a drool covered smile pressed to your face as you meet his raging eyes, his body trembling with what you knew was rage and jealousy. 

“T-Touya’s making me feel so good, Shoucchan,” the nickname drips like a taunt from your mouth as Touya rocks into you with unforgiving rage and power. The squelching of your meeting sex almost as loud as your babbling voice. “He’s fucking my cumdump pussy, making it throb a-and clench!”

Touya puffs out with your praise, all while he continues to fuck you roughly. He was in a zone, his bright eyes standing his ground as his younger brothers stared at him, feeling like it could kill someone right now. His concentration was like steel as he pounded into you again and again. Your inner walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating cock, weeping with the pleasure stunted stimulation of the plenty of piercing viciously rubbing against your inner walls, and the heated pressure had built up all over again.

His cock twitched within you; it knocked the breath out of you; his fingers twisted into your hair, snapping you back.

“Fucking gonna fill you up until you’re overflowing,” jerking your head back towards him again, and you sob as your legs tremble against his increasing power. “You’re gonna be so full with my cum, you’re going to be my breeding slut, carrying my fucking child after all this.”

You feel your eyes cross, screaming out his name as your walls clamp down fiercely against his length. Touya curses loudly, his hips slamming completely against your hips and staying there as sticky substances eject from his throbbing head. Touya lets out a string of curses, and you moan, knowing that he came on you. The both of you collapse on the bed, ragging shallow breaths tumbling from both your chests as you attempt to steady yourselves.

“Just so you know who you fucking belong to here,” Touya taunts, but his words aren’t for you, but instead Shouto. You feel his finger press against the skin right above your ass, and you blink once, twice, and suddenly scorching white, impossibly unbearable heat burns into your skin. 

His finger burned brightly with his quirk, blue flames dancing across your skin as you howled and screamed in pain. He had branded you with his name, ‘Touya’ scrawled messily against your skin, white, bloodied, and blistered with the disappearance of his finger.

“Touya!” Rei snapped, her eyes narrowing on her eldest son as Shouto managed to break through the restraints, the chains clattering loudly on the floor as Enji and Natsuo both did everything they could to restrain him where he sat. “You weren’t allowed to brand someone who isn’t yours, you know that!”

“Oh relax,” Touya rolled his eyes, his cock removing from your quivering cunt with a low sigh. “It wasn’t anything permanent. It should only last a week if you put ointment on it. If we still got that shit for when Shouto got burned, it should heal up in seconds.”

You remained on the bed, painful, heavy tears pouring down your face as you sobbed.

The latex was burnt off your body, and your breasts throbbed in grateful pleasure at your sudden release. But you could feel his name engraved into your skin, and it hurt. You sniffled against the mattress, your body sweaty and gross as his cum seeped out from your cunt. A soft hand pressed to your brand with some ointment that made you cry, even more, tensing against a gentle touch.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Fuyumi’s voice was gentle against your pounding ears. “I’ll fix you up, and then you’ll be good to go!”

You don’t remember passing out from the pain, but you know that some time has passed when you open your eyes. You can still feel the low throbbing pains of your back where Touya had etched his skin, but it was no longer causing you awful pain. A soft groan passed your lips while you felt a gentle stroke of fingers brush over where the branding had once been.

“Oh! You’re conscious again!” Fuyumi cheered delightfully, her lips pressing to your sweaty temple with a gracious smile. “I’m happy to tell you that we managed to salvage your skin! The blisters and burns are all gone!”

A soft whimper presses against your teeth as you nod in thanks, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. “Thank you,” you rasp, your eyes fluttering in the way coolness washes over your still blazing skin. Fuyumi’s quirk doing wonders to your beaten skin. 

“I’m glad you’re doing okay!” Fuyumi continued to chirp, and your fingers trembled, your head nodding at the way her tone was so, so sweet and light. Was she going to be the most comfortable fuck so far? You certainly hoped so. “Please know that you have to call me nee-chan, or else your nee-chan will get upset. Do you understand?”

A hitched huff passes your lips, and you nod, you understand… wait! Your head snapped up, your body aching at the way you twisted around to stare at Fuyumi, who was looking at you still with a sugar-sweet smile on her face and the biggest fucking dildo sitting on her strap. 

Nee-chan?

“Let’s begin!”

Let it not be said that you couldn’t follow instructions. This entire past twenty minutes or so, you had been as obedient as one could be when you found out your boyfriend’s family was a cult — and even more so obedient then you ever expected yourself to be. The word nee-chan dripped from your lips in an echoed distant prayer when Fuyumi rolled you over so that your back was being pressed into the mattress. 

You squealed at the sensation of your sore backside pressing into the rough material of the mattress, your eyes clenching while you flinched at the spectacle. 

“I’ve always been outnumbered by my brothers and my father. I’ve seen their cocks in action, and the first time I got to join in on someone, my dildo was pathetic. I couldn’t get anyone to scream the way they did through my strap energy. I know I eat pussy better than they do. Still, I wanted to make sure that I was better than them in everything,” Fuyumi’s words are informational, trying to explain just why the dildo she was using was what you would consider being a dragon dildo. 

She moves the dildo against your clit, your body twisting and contorting as the artificial veins drag sinfully against your aching nerves. her hands pressing against your abdomen as she did so, gently thrusting, studying the way that you keened and gasped for more. “We got to do this so many times! Did ya know that my poor brother Natsuo brought three girls to this initiation? None of them passed! It’s not so fun fucking people who can’t keep up… that’s why I’m so happy Shouto found you, y/n! You’re keeping up so well!”

A particular thrust of her hips lands a staggering white-hot jolt up your spine, your head tossing backward as you moan, your hips rising instinctively to grind against the dildo she refuses to put in. You’d never been with any girl before, and this was all so new, to begin with. When your once dry mouth seemed to pool with your saliva, your abdomen was built with electrifying pressure. You could only think of getting more from this. You wanted Fuyumi to fuck you to oblivion. 

But she had plans, ideas to do before she even considered planting her dragon cock into your sopping pussy. 

“Tell me if you like this or not, little sister,” Fuyumi teased, her eyes moving to focus on your already hazed ones, her hands pressing down on your diaphragm, and her lips erotically pressed to the side of your breasts. She spends a few seconds lavishing your breasts with attention, her hot, wet tongue flicking and twirling your skin around, trying to make you squirm even more under her conquesting tongue.

“I-It feels good,” you mewl, your breasts singing in grace and pleasure of how her tongue flicks and curls over your pebbled nipples. 

But you omitted nee-chan. 

Her fingernails pinched and twisted the sensitive skin near your lymph nodes, a pained gasp emitting from your lips while you writhed under her. Your pants are heavy and loud while Fuyumi tuts against your breast, “Try again,” she commands, her mouth tearing into your skin.

“It feels good, nee-chan,” you gasp, your eyes noticing the way that the anger and ferocity seem to melt away from her eyes. Replacing it with nothing but warmth and kindness in her place.

It sent an odd shiver down your spine; this was the persona of someone you knew was dangerous. Stay on her good side, and you would be rewarded. Get on her bad side, and well, you had a gut instinct that she would be worse than even Touya. Fuyumi’s teeth leave your skin, moving on to continue to lavish your body in her sweet lips and gentle kisses. She left behind a trail of bites and bruises, your skin purpling and brightening wherever she left. 

Her skin was unparalleled so far, each strike and curl of her tongue, making you pant in such fervor you nearly forget to add nee-chan on multiple occasions. But you were a quick learner, a good learner, especially if she was to be treating you like this. With her lips dancing and grazing against your skin, you felt amazing. On top of the way that the dildo still continues to drag through your folds, teasing, stimulating your abused cunt. 

You were turned on, almost painfully so. Your clit throbbed, and your nipples ached with an unrestricted need while Fuyumi pushed up against your breasts, her hips circling and snapping into you. 

Fuyumi’s hands trail down, squeezing your soft thighs in her grasp, pulling your legs up closer to her, wrapping your sturdy legs around her form. The adjustment sends jarring shivers down your spine. Your lips fall open, stuttered gasps drenching the room as the vein on the dildo grows bigger and more complicated with this new reach, this new angle.

Her hands felt delicate against your skin, almost like porcelain but with an undertone of steel to her grip. And you gasp as in your blinded state, her lips latching onto your neck. Her teeth nibbling on your vein makes you moan, your back arching as she presses on, unafraid of what she’s doing.

“Tell me…” She breathes against your skin. Your fingers clutching her biceps between your hands as you lie against your seat. “What does my dirty little sister want?”

Your eyes open. Degradation was something you’ve never tried before. But those words send heat towards your cunt. You moan as her fingers trail under your tank top, her nails dragging against your sensitive skin. Her hands are on your waist, and she pulls your legs until your ass is pressing against the bottom curve of the dildo. Your hips come to roll against hers, a movement that causes her to hiss.

Her smile makes your walls flutter in anticipation as your mouth opens to answer, your tongue slippery in your mouth, “I… I want to be fucked. I want my nee-chan to stick her dildo in me, and claim me. I want my nee-chan’s to taste my cunt. And I want her to fuck me without holding back, I don’t want my nee-chan to hold back at all.” 

Your flushed face can barely stay facing Fuyumi, but you shiver at her head dropping backward, a preemptive moan escaping her mouth at the thought of doing all those things. You weren’t ashamed to admit it, and you glowed at her inability to look at you right now. “I want to be used as your sex toy. Using me after dominating me in whatever way and desire my nee-chan wants – shit!”

There’s a hard thrust against your aching core, and Fuyumi has your hands above your head. Cold metal circling your wrists as you watch her handcuff you to the bed frame. “Fuyumi?!” you gasp, flinching when her hand comes down to strike your cheek in your slip up. You splutter against your stinging skin, your eyes watering while you continue to stare at Fuyumi, who looks down at you with a pout, her eyes so, so sad at your slip up.

“Call me, nee-chan, let me be your big sister!” she begs, a hopeful smile tugging at her lips and connecting with your collarbone. Goosebumps shoot through your body as your hands pull against the restraint. The cold metal hissing against your burning skin, cutting into your aching joints, her hands rutting the dragon cock against your pulsing clit.

You pant as Fuyumi pulls away, her fingers discarding her thin shirt while she grinned. 

“Don’t you just look lovely like this? Saying things about how you want to be fucked without restraint, but look at you! You barely survived, Touya! What makes you so confident that you’ll last with me?” her finger fork between your clit, your body twisting and shuddering under her milking fingers, her keen eyes studying every little way you bucked and moaned against her. “Such a fucking dirty little sister, aren’t you? How long can I make you wait for me to do anything but tease your puffy pretty clit, hm? Did you want me to fuck your dirty fucking pussy already? Do you want my cock to ram into you already? Claim you as mine?”

An aroused and insulted moan escapes your lips, and Fuyumi presses a heavy hand to your throat, immediately cutting off the airway, making you splutter and gasp under her weight. “I want an answer, y/n-chan.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head just momentarily, your breath hitching when you return her kind yet fearsome lust-filled eyes. Fuyumi was emitting some type of confidence that confused you to no end, yet it was very quickly overwhelming you. You wondered if she really was the reason why all those girls before you had failed?

“I’ve n-never done this!” you stammer in embarrassment while her fingers push apart your thighs. She inches backward slowly, her grey eyes taking you into completion, your hips rising and falling in your desperate need and crave of attention for your throbbing heated core.

Fuyumi chuckles, she slides her hands to your knees, pressing heavily onto them while she lowers her head. Her hot breaths hit your soaked core in gentle coaxing waves, causing you to whine, your hands tugging at the restraints in boggling need. Chills of pleasure spread among your skin while you whimper out her name, your hips stupidly rising to find a home, and she does nothing to ease your struggles. “I’m glad because you’re going to be my little sister, y/n! We’re going to be the best sisters, much more than the ones I got from Touya and Natsuo! But you promise you’ll only be mine? Promise that I’m going to be your only big sister?” Fuyumi begs of you, her fingers tracing your clothed slit. Your head nods rapidly in agreement, your hot puffing breathes heavy.

Fuyumi squealed in excitement, that same childlike glee washing over her. With the dragon cock so longer on your pussy, you looked down in a moment of sadness. Still, you were met with her two fingers thrusting up into your weeping cunt, angled perfectly for the first time doing it — you swear you can taste colors when she brushes against your g-spot without even trying. 

Your back arches off the bed. your body almost twisting in your attempt to get her out of your spasming core, you scream her name. “God, you’re such a tight little sister! I thought that after Touya and my dad, you’d be much looser, but that’s okay! You really wanted this to be the end result, didn’t you? You want your nee-chan to split your pussy in two!” Fuyumi squeals, her fingers curling into your walls. You sob in response, the overwhelming pleasure spreading like fire through your body as she coaxes her fingers against your walls. Her other hand shoots out to your parted mouth, sinking two fingers into your mouth as you whine when she presses down against your hot, pink tongue. “Come on, I know you can take my fingers! Show your nee-chan how well you suck!”

You moan against her fingers, your tongue swirling and pressing between her nimble fingers. But further down, your stomach tightens, and your hips bucking against her fingers, your grinding, rolling hips desperate to get her to do more to you. And as if she could tell that you wanted more, that you needed more, Fuyumi’s head tilts down to suck onto your puffy clit. Your muffled moan only riles her further, her body shivering against yours. Her tongue peeks out, while her gaze falls on yours, the pink, soft tongue swirls your throbbing clit around in her mouth, the sucking sensation of her mouth making you plead to her around her fingers. Her eyes are locked on your desperate eyes. She doesn’t stop, her fingers now scissoring within you as you shudder against her movements.

And much to your pleasure, she continues.

Her tongue strokes against your clit, lapping at the puffy bundle of nerves. Her nose buries into your clit while she stroked your soaked slit, teasing your entrance with her tongue despite her conquesting fingers. But it does something to you, your body trembling with want and need, and you can’t help but scream in desperation.

“Fuck, nee-chan—!” your hands clutched at the metal chains of the handcuffs. They bury into the palms of your hand while Fuyumi continues her assault upon your cunt. Her fingers run against the walls of your cunt by your belly, goosebumps, and fluttering sensations knocking through you with every hither motion of her fingers. But it was that tongue of hers that had you seeing the stars and the universe. Her tongue alternated from thrusting within your pulsing core, teasing your clenching flesh, sucking and nipping, and your blazing clit. She kneaded your clit between her fingers as you felt an unusual sensation creep up on your lower half. The feeling to pee was overwhelming your body as you tried to ignore it. Your eyes clenched shut as Fuyumi’s mouth, and fingers continued rutting into you, the loud squelch of her skin against your core sounding around the room, your cunt clenching down hard against her dancing fingers.

Fuyumi lets go of your clit all too soon and sighs happily. “You’re such an amazing little sister! Your pussy is so wet and so tight for me! You even squirted without me doing anything too drastic, and I don’t even have a cock in you still! Are you going to come so quickly again? You’re not going to tap out on your nee-chan before she’s done, are you?” Your head shakes fast, your back arching off the seats as you try getting more friction to your pussy that had experienced a goddesses touch and now wanted more. “I know you’re a good whore, you won’t come yet right now, right?”

Her fingers leave your mouth, and you cough with her disappearance. Your chest heaves as if you had been gagged or choked. Not at all what was happening to you right now, but in anticipation of what was to come.

“Nee-chan, please, I want you now!”

Fuyumi doesn’t even flinch as she instead removes her fingers from within you and runs her slick covered fingers against the dildo, much to your soft whimpers. 

You watch with increasing lust as Fuyumi removes her lacy snow bra. Now in front of you, gloriously naked and beautifully armed with that dildo, you wanted to kiss your cervix on her hips. She’s beautiful and perfect, and you wanted her to ruin you. Her breasts look full and ready to be touched, her curves making you feel jealous as she leans back over you. “Did you know you have the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen, y/n-chan?” You grunt, not at all liking all the talking and wanting her to sink that fucking dildo into yours. “Do you need to come now? You were taking my fingers so well, and I think my pretty little whore sister needs to come. I sure want to come; don’t ya, y/n-chan?”

You sob as your hands pull desperately against the restraint, your body unable to move from your position. “Yes, nee-chan, I want you to fuck me!” you cry as her fingers trace the sides of your body, your hips squirming under her touch. “I want to come, and I want you to cum on me.”

“You say such sweet things for a little sister,” Fuyumi giggles as she pushes your trembling legs back, the dragon cock held and guided with one hand to your awaiting dripping hole. “I hope you’re ready!”

“Please fuck me, please fuck me so good,” you plea, your eyes closing as you readied yourself, the tip of the dragon cock pressing into your eager cunt.

You could clench your eyes closed, the feeling of Fuyumi’s hips twitch with a whimper at the direct plea. She pulls out slightly and then pushes back, adding a tiny, yet powerful snap to herm hips, and your resulting sob for more seems to finally convince her exactly how much you needed to be fucked beyond sanity.

Finally, finally, Fuyumi buries her dragon dildo into your stretching, clenching cunt. Your jaw drops in a silent scream, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as the thick cock pushed slowly into you as if to torture you. You realized where you wanted Enji to be slow in burying his fat cock in you, you wanted her to be fast — this burned so slowly with her slow pace, and if the Cheshire grin on her face spoke anything, she knew that this is what you were thinking too.

Every vein on the dildo pulses against your vice walls, her hips steady as she lowered herself further into you. Your ragged exhausted pants hit her cum stained and sweaty chest, and the both of you look down to see that only half of the dildo fit in you. You’re surprised that much fits in you, but the fullness in your core tells you that it makes sense. Your eyes clench while you adjust to the size of that monster, but Fuyumi doesn’t take too long to recover from her own hesitations. Fuyumi’s hips then start rutting into you, hitting your hips in a fast, barbaric rhythm. And every single inhibition has left your body — this is like no dick you’ve ever experienced before, nothing has ever filled you out in such a way and… holy shit, what was that?! Your chants become incoherent screams when you realize that with every thrust of her hips, the dildo was vibrating against your walls.

“Yes. Yes, yes! Shit! Keep fucking me, keep—god, please don’t stop, nee-chan, it’s so good, it’s so so good—nee-chan!”

You can feel every millimeter of Fuyumi inside you. The dildo smashing unapologetically into your cervix that has you singing to the heavens, her steel hands in a bruising grip on your throat — not effectively silencing your whorish scream. Your essence sliding down and smearing all over the crease between your thigh and cunt – and all the time, Fuyumi’s momentum is building.

She drills faster and faster, she pleads that her younger sister is happy, the only thing you can hear is your pleasure-filled sobs and the smacking of her hips against yours. Your body twists and convulses, your wrists tremble from being held back, and with a climactic high, you came with an echoing sob. 

You lay broken against the bed, your body heaving and twitching when Fuyumi pulls the dildo from your cunt. You whimper heavily at the loss of contact, your wrists weakly circling in a poor attempt of drawing her near. Fuyumi cries happily while she tumbles off the bed, kissing you softly on the cheek as she removes the handcuffs.

“Because I can’t stuff you full with my cum, that’s it from me for now,” she sighs before disappearing with a soft giggle of delight.

You lay there for what felt like an eternity, your body sticky with sweat and cum, sore and throbbing from everything else you’ve endured.

“You seem to be a good girl, y/n,” Natsuo’s voice rings clear as day by your thighs.

With eyelids that felt like lead, you peered at Natsuo, smiling at you with kindness. Had it not been because Fuyumi had also approached you with the same sweet smile, maybe you would have reacted differently, but no. You were ready.

The Todoroki’s were cunning, deceitful, and powerful.

But there was a soothing coldness to his fingers. Soft coldness spread through your aching body, helping alleviate the burning sensations that trademarked the other Todoroki members. There were bruises all over your body, welts, and tears in your skin.

You didn’t mind them. After all, the masochist in you had been born ten times over today, it seemed. 

“There are some rules you must know before we begin,” Natsuo spoke with direct clarity, his face soft yet stern, his fingers gliding aimlessly around your heated inner thighs and cutting through your hood to your clit. You gasped loudly, your body spasming under his tantalizing touch, and he chuckled, his lips pressing to your knee. “You will address me as daddy, nothing else. Secondly, you will obey me, no matter what I say, or else…” his fingers forked through your clit, squeezing the sensitive nub between his strong fingers that had your body convulsing underneath him, “You will get punished, and I don’t want to hurt you, baby girl.”

There was a buzzing in your mind, a sweet need to see what would happen if you denied him. So far, it has only led to good things for you, things you would not have exchanged for the world. But still, you knew better than to test them out in the beginning; Enji’s handprint on your neck was more than enough evidence to tell you to wait until later.

“Hands and knees,” Natsuo spoke, his hands stroking and massaging your inner thighs in a way that just further ignited the fire that spewed madly within your loins.

Rolling onto your knees, your arms buckled beneath you as you positioned yourself for him, your pert ass in the air, bruised and swollen beyond its initial appearance. You drop your back, allowing for the arch of your back to entice him to show off for your current daddy and Shouto, who was watching.

Without looking, you knew that your asshole was wet with the leaking cum of both Touya and Enji would have both filled you up plenty. And Natsuo stared at the milky opaque substance with interest, his arms crossed his chest.

Impatience began to soak through your skin, a pout on your face as you wiggled your ass for good measure, trying to capture Natsuo’s attention.

“Daddy, please do something!” you whined and broke his stern gaze from your ass to your eyes. 

His eyes were dark, sparkling with that energy they all seemed to possess: cunning and possessive. A smirk spread on his lips as he chuckled, stepping closer to the bed.

“Where would you want me to touch you, princess?” Natsuo questioned, his hands already assuming a position on your ass, pushing the mounds of flesh apart only to let them come back and slap together. Your cunt, having already been abused, still sparked with life, but it seemed that a chill ran through your ass. Only having had Enji’s fingers up your ass, you craved for something more, something sturdier — thicker. “Show your daddy.”

You whimpered, teetering onto one hand as your now free hand grabbed your breast, pinched your nipple, and moved to your puffy clit. 

Natsuo watched you like a hawk, his eyebrow-raising when your fingers slipped between your wet folds and even glided to your tight asshole. 

“There?” he spoke, his voice sounding restrained and tight.

You moaned, “I want daddy’s cock everywhere.”

Biting your lower lip, you saw Natsuo groan, his fingers slipping into your cunt, pleased with the heat and the wet juices that still remained. 

“You’re so fucking tight, princess,” Natsuo groaned, his mouth placing approving kisses on the small of your back. “I thought they were going to ruin you for your daddy, but fuck… I wonder… daddy wonders how tight that pretty little ass of yours is.”

You shiver at the prospect, your eyes pleading for him to indulge in his thoughts as you wiggle your ass in approval.

“You want that, huh, princess, you want daddy to breed that little asshole of yours!” Natsuo grinned, his teeth scraping the length of your spine, and you shook with glee.

“Yes, daddy! I want you to breed my asshole, please fuck my asshole!” you begged, feeling his calloused fingers already circling around your hips, trailing to your outer than inner thighs as you trembled against him. 

Natsuo pressed sloppy, wet kisses from the top of your ass down until he met your slicked inner thigh, just avoiding the throb of both your ass and cunt. You keened against him, fingers burying into the wet mattress as you tried not to beg too loudly, you mustn’t disturb your daddy. 

“Such a good girl, princess,” Natsuo praises, his fingers curling within your cunt again, slicking his fingers up with your essence. They pump within you lazily, and you moan loudly, eyes fluttering as you press your face against the mattress, your walls forcibly clenching against his fingers. He eventually pulls out of your wet heat, and teasingly, horribly edges you when his fingers circle around your clenched muscle, getting close enough for you to whimper, but too far for any sort of pleasure. “Good fucking girl,” he repeated, his other hand moving to your clit, pinching and tugging at the nerve with soft, languid strokes. “Daddy thinks you deserve to be treated.”

You didn’t have the chance to support his decision for his hand came smacking against your ass with a powerful thrust, nearly sending you toppling over as you shook against him. He spanked you again, and again, and again—the flesh on your ass bouncing against his movements, sending Natsuo into a wide grin of amusement. 

“Tell me where you want daddy’s mouth the most right now,” Natsuo asked, fingers clenching your ass, massaging the sore flesh in his cold hands. 

“My ass!” you sobbed, feeling entirely spent by every little movement. “Daddy, I want you to eat my ass!”

“Such a dirty princess,” Natsuo scoffs, but there's enjoyment in his voice, and his warm, hot breath expels against your pert, puckered hole. 

You shook against him, rotating your hips as you felt the ghost of his lips breeze against your hole. His fingers, still wet with your slick, suddenly invaded your ass, and you keened loudly at the feeling of two thick fingers suddenly pressing past your unsuspecting, unanticipated hole. You, like a bitch in heat, rolled your hips, your breathing heavy and hot as you nodded your head in wordless praise.

“Fuck…” you managed, your eyes barely in focus to see the throbbing cock tented in Shouto’s pants, and you grin.

But as his fingers press downward onto your hole, you shudder, mouth falling open when his wet, hot tongue presses through your asshole, licking and lapping at the skin that was untouched by his fingers. You shook manically, your body trembling as he ate your ass, the wet, lewd noises almost pornographic as you screamed for your daddy.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, arms restlessly moving behind you to shove his face further between his ass, to get his tongue even further in your anal cavity. His thumb was spreading the slick of his saliva all-around your asshole, his fingers and tongue probing further into your ass, allowing you further penetration as you moaned his name.

His mouth completely surrounded your muscled hole, and your vision blacked when he sucked on your asshole, letting your legs shake furiously as you trembled with the vacuuming sensation. “Holy shit — daddy!” you squeaked in shock, back arching even further as that new sensation burned through your body. But he didn’t stop there; he continued to move forward, continuing to assault your pretty and raw ass.

His tongue fucked your ass, and his other fingers slipped into your cunt, his middle finger rubbing your clit as you shook with waving rolling pleasure. Your head snapped to look at him, eyes desperate and keen on looking into his amused, bright eyes. They sparkled with joy, winking at you with no remorse as his tongue flicked the innards of your anal cavity. 

“You like me eating your ass, princess? Tell me how much you like my tongue in your ass,” Natsuo growled against your rim, voice shaking your core, making your eyes flutter with the growing need. “Tell your daddy.”

You moaned loudly, your ass shaking with the need for him to focus even more on your ass as senseless babbles poured from your throat, “Daddy’s tongue feels so funny in my ass! It’s so wet, so hot, so long! It makes my ass feel f-funny!! Daddy’s making my ass and pussy feel so good!”

Four fingers pressed into your hole, and you screamed in the alarming pain, your teeth sinking into your arm as Natsuo thrust his fingers in and out of your stretched and wet asshole. He drilled into your sloppy ass, uncaring of the way that Shouto snapped at him, only drinking in the vulgar cries of his name that you continued to supply him in endless amounts. 

“Can daddy add his last finger into your ass?” Natsuo asked, his thumb scraping the cleavage of your ass. “Can daddy put his finger in and fist your ass? Daddy knows you can take it, princess, you’re doing so well, you can take daddy’s cock in your pretty little ass.”

His pumping fingers were too much for you, your head mindlessly nodding in agreement because the moment five fisted fingers entered your ass, you could no longer think straight. Natsuo smirked, his tongue whirling within your spasming hole.

With his fist now entirely in your ass, you struggled to breathe, your lungs feeling as if it was in your ass, and the fingers that once delighted your cunt was replaced suddenly with his thick, throbbing cock. 

You couldn’t remember what was right, what was up, or your name at the entirely full feeling of his cock and fist in your cunt and ass. You shook violently, cumming immediately as he bottomed out within you and wasted no time in snapping his hips into you. Except, his fist suddenly leaves your clenching, gaping asshole, and he rolls you over, cock resting on your stomach as he looks at you with wicked pleasure.

Natsuo grabs your legs, hoisting them up so that the angle of which he was attempting to fuck you in was prime breeding position.

“Daddy’s going to give your pussy what it wants now, and he’s going to overfill you with his cum until you dripping him out for days… you’d look so cute pregnant, y/n, so fucking cute.”

You’re not sure if that last part was for you or for Shouto, whose gaze is still carved into every slick cover curve on your body. But it makes you let out a strained moan, a moan that has his lips spreading into a smile against your jaw. Without much time to think, time to even attempt to grow comfortable with the situation you were in, his hips snapped upward, his cock fully hard and bottoming out in you with one powerful snap.

Your knees are subsequently buried within the mattress by your head. Your body aching in this position, and your toes curling and pressing against each other. Natsuo lays on top of you, the penetration deep and thrilling, and his hands pressing your forearms above your head. The weight of having him on you is exhilarating, and while you feel your face drum with the blood staying in your head, the feeling of his balls bouncing against your ass sends you spluttering with undenied lust.

His cock slams against the wall of your cervix repetitively while his lips attach to your neck. Each blow into you is massive and powerful. Powerful enough to have you crying so loudly, you can hear it ringing against the walls, his hands bruising your forearms in his. The thrusts are so powerful, incredibly jolting with your head bouncing on the mattress.

Again and again, he slams into you. His thrusts knocking the wind out of you until you release his hands and find yourself digging your fingers into his back, crying out his name desperately while his teeth find a home on your neck. The powerful pounding of his cock makes you mewl loudly, your hips jerking up to meet his, your heels digging into his back, lifting you off the bed to meet his powerful, sweat breaking thrust.

“Cum in me,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back in pleasure behind the blindfold, “breed me, please, breed me.”

“You’ll be full of my fucking kids in no time, your cute belly will be round with my kids, not those old as shit men,” he snaps against your jaw, his cock throbbing within your pussy, and loud echoing slaps fill the room. 

You couldn’t take the feeling of how his body moved perfectly within you; the strength and power behind his every move were almost too natural as if this was an everyday thing. You let out noises reasonably similar to a purr, grinding your cunt against his conquesting cock and laughing breathlessly at his low groan.

“You like this, princess?” Natsuo bites at your jaw, his thrusts making you shriek out his name as he buries you further into the bed, your nails digging into his flesh. “You like the way my cock fills your pussy the same way my tongue ate your ass?” 

You nod rapidly, your eyes closed, your mouth open, your pants tumbling from your mouth. Your sanity was lying on a string, his actions the reasons for your downfall.

His leverage was small, but every thrust seemed to have his cock pulled out of you nearly completely. Before he drilled back into your pussy. The noises of your connecting wet sex left a loud echo with your squelching pussy around his hot cock.

“You like the way I fuck your pussy? The way that I’ll fill you with my seed for days to come?” he growls into your ear, his hips inhumanly slamming into you.

“I need you to breed me,” you sob, the fire in your face as bright and hot as the one between your legs. His sweaty forehead pressed against your collarbone, and his lips sunk into your skin.

Your mind goes blank when a mighty crash goes through you. Natsuo is entirely lost in the feeling of your clenching vice walls, his ragged breaths hitting your skin with every excessive, overpowering roll of his hips. You cry while your head thrashes against the mattress, your forearms slamming against his head while you pant.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he growls, and once again slams into you. “No wonder why Shouto didn’t want to share you.”

His hips continue to drive into you, a show of just how much he wanted to fill you, claim you despite your Shouto sitting so nearby. His thick cocking strained your walls, but the way his cock would twitch within the confines of your plush, spongy walls had you reeling for more. Your teeth biting into his skin when an incredibly hard thrust sent your eyes to the back of your head, your back arching, cunt squeezing as you tumbled off the high point.

“Cum, sir,” you beg, your hips wildly thrashing against his. “Please, fill me with your seed!”

That’s all it takes, and a hot and heavy load shoots through you, and Natsuo collapses onto you. Your jaw-dropping and gaping like a fish out of water while your eyes fluttered with your crashing high. There’s a silence for a while, the weight of Natsuo on your body a comfort until he’s pulling away from you, cock slipping from your cum filled cunt, and body abandoning yours on the bed. But you don’t look; you’re too tired to look.

“Get up, fucking whore,” a voice breaks your thoughts, and your closed eyes twitch towards the Touya’s voice. There was a pause before he spoke again, a smirk evident in his tone.“It’s time for the best part.”

Your eyes focused hazily onto the group of family members around you, your thoughts racing a mile a second in the horrific wonder of what was to come. 

You had already gone through them all on your own. You had seen how they fucked you on their own grounds, their own terms, but this was different. There was obvious tension in the four of them, dynamics, and intense feelings unable to be muffled in this state. Their personalities when it was just you and them clearly having been discarded. Their actions and thoughts are now clearly swayed by who they were now forced to work with.

Shouto was the last one to be married, you knew that, and you were the only one he’s dated. With that knowledge, you knew that they’ve never been in a situation like this before. 

You glanced at Enji, whose face was stern and solid. There was no emotion on his face, save the scorching embers in his eyes that passed between his sons. A fire curled in your core when that same gaze fell on you, and you immediately understood what he was rationalizing. He was older now, especially when he fucked the other spouses — he was no longer the true alpha. By the looks of how there was no bite to his face, you knew he was here to see which son was best.

Touya looked at you in a possessiveness that should be reserved for the one he loved most, not someone like you. His eyes stared straight into you, unwavering, unmoving. You were nothing more than some lucky bitch in his eyes, but a bitch that he was going to make sure everyone knew was his. His chest puffed out in want and excitement, a hint for anyone to challenge him. He was going to make sure everyone abided by him — he was the one fighting hardest for the proper alpha role.

Fuyumi was the complete opposite. Even though she had probably fucked you the best out of everyone in the circle, she came off as a non-threat. Her fingers gentle while cleaning you up from the sweat and cum that marinated your body. You can’t even pass up a thank you for you’re beyond words. She was a tricky one, someone who commanded things from the shadows and behind a sweet smile. Fuyumi could take Touya down if he wasn’t careful. 

Then there was Natsuo. His gaze continuously shifts between his older siblings as if in worry, in fear of what they might do or say to him — as if he didn’t tower over them. If you weren’t so dazed by the sheer pleasure of this all, you might have wondered just what might have happened between them all before. Still, it is evident that he had begrudgingly accepted his subordinate role; you could practically taste that in the air, but the defiance shone brightly in his eyes. He still wanted you as much as they did, and he would be damned if he gave in without a fight.

Finally, Shouto, who still was strapped to the chair, but he was someone you were well aware of. He’d always been the unspoken chosen one of the family, someone who undoubtedly would kill both Enji and Touya for how they stared at you. You shivered at the thought.

For the first time that night, the vast bed would finally be used to its full potential. 

They all climbed on at once, the bed sinking on multiple locations, and your hands pressed onto the mattress, excitement coursing through your veins as they drew nearer. You were unsure where to look first, who to give your attention to first because good god, you wanted them all on you, in you. But Fuyumi was without her strap on, and your eyes fell onto Shouto, who was staring at you with a raging hard-on. Rei petted his hair while she drank what was definitely her tenth glass of wine, her own eyes swimming with lustful mirth.

It takes no time for all of them to mount the bed, and suddenly, your face is covered while Fuyumi plants her slick wet pussy over your gaping mouth. Hands pressing against your ass to lift you up as a cock that feels vaguely familiar to Natsuo fills your ass out, and the cold piercings of Touya's cock press through your tight cunt as you whine into Fuyumi’s folds. You feel something hot and thick press into your palm, and you know it's Enji’s cock.

“How is she still this fucking tight?” Touya moaned, his hips pressing into you, bottoming out inside you. You moaned loudly inside Fuyumi’s core, her loud mewling ringing in your ears as you awkwardly, inexperienced lapped at her soaked folds as the brothers' cocks moved within your throbbing cunt and ass. “You think her fucking quirk is the reason why she doesn’t ever loosen up despite having been pounded to hell and back?”

Your hand tries to run up and down Enji’s cock, fisting his thick length as you eat Fuyumi out with more vigorous, more confident laps. But the piercings on Touya’s cock and the veins on Natsuo’s cock seem to be hypersensitive against your spent walls. The feeling of two, irreplicable cocks within your ass and cunt, making your head spin as your teeth graze Fuyumi’s clit, fingers tracing Enji’s cock.

Fuyumi's hand reaches behind you to clench at the roots of your hair as she shifts her hips, wasting no time to allow herself the greatest amount of pleasure against your virgin mouth. Trying to replicate what you knew well from Shouto, and what she had done to you so many minutes earlier, your tongue pushed against her slit, not going through, but just enough to lap at the essence that had already pooled from her lips. And then a satisfied groan escaped her as the tip of your tongue pushed against her cavern. And she rocked against your face, falling even deeper onto your face.

“Yes, just like that, little sister!” Fuyumi bubbles, her hips grinding down lower on your mouth, your nose pressing awkwardly onto her circulating hips. 

Your hips thrust upward against Natsuo’s and Touya’s cocks, and both men fumbled their tongues, their cocks slamming within you, grazing your cervix and hitting your guts in a single stroke. Your fingers nearly let Enji’s cock slip from your grip as you tried to focus on getting them all to feel good; you wanted to win this, wanted to get that ring on your finger and make them submit to you being one of them — the best of them.

“You really picked a great one, Shoucchan, oh my god—” you caught Fuyumi off guard as your hand slips from beside you, curling against her clit with accurate precision given the way that she nearly collapses against you. “Yes, just like that! Yes, yes!” she chants, her hips grinding down on you, your back pressed against her breasts, giving her the only other stimulation you could. 

“Enji, she’s doing so well.” 

A voice called out sweetly in the background, and your eyes skimmed to the side to see Rei at the foot of the bed. Her wine glass she had been drinking this entire time abandoned on her chair and Shouto struggled against the restraints with shivering shudders of the chains. Enji’s eyes looked down at his wife, and he nodded in agreement, pulling out his length from your hand and watching his sons thrust into your cunt and ass like it was god's one and only gift. 

Rei’s tongue playfully lolling out while she continued to observe the erotic scene before her. She wet her lips at the sight of her daughter riding your face, the vulgar moans that sang from your lips as Fuyumi praised you again and again. 

“You’re so good at this,” Fuyumi whines, her thighs tensing around you, her weight pushing against you, and you moaned while grinding your nose on her large clit. “I'm gonna cum on you, y/n-chan.”

“Do you think we need to teach our sons how to fuck women better?” Rei questioned, her gaze peering on your tear-soaked ones. You whined against their cocks as you struggled to keep up with the impossibly wide stretch of your ass and cunt as they fucked you savagely, uncaring of what noises you were screaming for them. But the rhythmic hitting of both their cocks against the slick of your sweaty, slick skin. 

The piercings of Touya’s cock became a more burning feeling, and when your eyes fell back up to Fuyumi’s bright tear-filled eyes, you were almost surprised to see that it was no longer raging lust in them, just joy. You choke against Fuyumi’s core, the sweet taste of her essence doubling on your tongue with the removal of your nose for breathing. But you struggle to breathe and continue dancing your language between her folds with your fingers as assistance, her fingers return to your nipples.

As your tongue twirls and lifts, her fingers roll and pinch. 

She matches your every move with something new on your fingers, getting you to kick out your legs in building release, and her hips roughly buck against your face, her cunt quivering against your touch.

Hissing loudly, you nearly scream at the way her fingers pinch your nipples. And she cries at the way your tongue laps at her juices as if you were a starved woman. And she came harshly, entirely on your face. You didn’t even recognize the sensation of the two cocks suddenly exiting your body, only that they were done.

 Your gasping concentration was broken when Fuyumi abandoned you from above, and you pushed off the bed with heavy arms, only to meet Natsuo’s chest — it seemed he tossed Touya from the bed. He rolled you over so that he was beneath you, chests pressed against each other, his length carded between your ass, grinding against your wet slit. Your essence mixed with his pre-cum that quickly soaked his cock, and you looked down to see Natsuo ease you up and onto his length into your pussy with one deep thrust. 

“I didn’t get to tell you this, but you’re so fucking tight,” Natsuo’s voice was gruff and victorious when he began to move inside you. Touya’s voice growled loudly in these deceitful actions, his body scrambling behind you while you took in Natsuo’s impressive length again. Fuyumi rolled in front of you, her ass shaking in the air, and she winked at you.

“Eat my ass?”

And for your nee-chan, you did.

Touya sinks behind you, Natsuo’s victorious position is unable to be challenged while continues to rut into you from below, his thrusts slow and deep. But Touya spreads your ass cheeks apart, your abused, pert puckered hole prematurely clenching at the knowledge of what’s to come. You could tell from the heat on his fingers what his intentions were, and you moaned deeply into Fuyumi’s wet asshole at the teasing sensation of Touya’s fingers against your awaiting hole.

Fuyumi keens. “Yes, just like that,” she moans, her hands moving to her breasts, deliberately touching herself while your tongue flicked and fucked her ass. 

Your half-lidded eyes gazed up at Shouto, who had a vein throbbing angrily on his temple, his skin flushed, his pants still angrily tented. You had half a thought to remove your mouth from Fuyumi’s sweet core, to flash a teasing smile from your position that you knew he wanted in on, but you were cut off well before you could consider pulling away. Touya’s spit hits your ass, the cold, thick liquid sending indescribable sensations through your spine, and just as quickly, his cock sank into your tight, pretty ass and began a fast, savage pace inside you. 

Natsuo hadn’t bothered to stop his thrusts. Making it more challenging for Touya to penetrate you, and the searing pain of your holes being fucked by two different cocks simultaneously had your face-planting further into Fuyumi’s ass. Natsuo’s own fingers slithered down between your pressing hips to rub rapid circles around your clit to try and help you forget the pain of your tight hole being invaded. 

Both men bottomed inside you, both of them still continue to fuck you, unable to show a moment of hesitation now that they were face to face.

You sobbed at the feeling as Touya's steel ball piercings pushed against the sensitive and tight walls of your ass. Both of their grips on your waist and hips, pushing you and pulling you against their throbbing cocks. Your head turns away from Fuyumi’s rimmed asshole to find where Enji and Rei were. The family's matriarch quickly and if not expertly sucking her husband's cock with the skill and demeanor of teaching you and her family.

“Watch, children,” Enji commanded, but his voice was weak, obviously too lost on the feeling of Rei’s tight, hot mouth to really care what his sons were up to.

“Nobody wants to see that shit, geezer,” Touya snapped out as he grinned at the way Natuso’s cock rubbed against him as both males for a moment matched in pace. 

“Shit,” you cried into Fuyumi’s cunt, your fingers trying to fuck her wet cunt and ass, her praising words falling on your deaf ears. This felt like nothing you had ever felt before, pleasure coursed through your whole body as you felt the tight coil inside you desperately close to snapping. Natsuo’s fingers continued to rub messy circles on your clit as your breasts bounced at Touya’s rough, deliberate thrusting. 

“Don’t stop!” Fuyumi snaps, her hand reaching behind her, grabbing you by the roots of your hair, pushing you back against her clenching asshole. Your nose burying into her crack, your tongue prodding against her throbbing walls. She emitted a low, pleasurable whine at that, her hips snapping vigorously against your face.

“I’m needa… holy shit, I needa cum.” you whined against Fuyumi’s core, your fingers weakly curling within her, the pleasure was overwhelming as you felt yourself teetering closer to your bliss.

 “Cum, princess, cum for daddy.” Natuso bit against your collarbone as he continued his rough pace inside of you, his allowing words the impetus for your release as you came with a cry. Your body clenching and tensing around both men as you ride out your orgasm, your fingers shaking within Fuyumi’s core, your entire body spasming.

“I’m almost there, keep doing that with your mouth, and I’ll get there. You can do this, y/n, I know you’re good with that mouth of yours. Eat my fucking ass out, I know you can do better,” Fuyumi’s appreciate chanting while your tongue dripped with your saliva and her essence. She made your cunt clench against Natsuo, a sharp whine on your voice, vibrating all the way to her core, her sweet voice inciting liquid fire and lip biting motions from you.

Natsuo’s breathing stammered against your sweating chest, his eyes clenching shut while he hammered even faster into you. Your body bouncing with new power as he thrust sloppy and sloppier, “Gonna breed you, gonna fill you up with my sperm, princess.”

And with that promise, your eyes crossing with undenied pleasure as he still continued to thrust up into you despite his promise. 

“Boys, you’re a-already done?!” Enji barked, his fingers fisted into Rei’s hair, his hips snapping up into her mouth while she took him in with ease and grace you only dreamed you could have. There was a gagged giggle from Rei, who pressed further against Enji’s cock, her nose burying against the soft pubes on his pelvis, and Enji’s attention quickly stolen away.

They, however, were not done quite yet. He pushed your body down at more of an angle so he could continue his harsh thrusts inside you. Pressing you further into Fuyumi’s dripping cunt so that her essence was smeared all over your face so that your tongue could reach even further into her clenching cunt while your eyes roll back. 

“You fucking liked that, didn’t you, slut? Bet you wished you could see just how you’re affecting this family. Bet you want us all to fill you up like the dirty cumslut you are. The breeding whore that you are. But I’m the only one you actually want cumming in you, right?” Touya continues to roughly pound inside you, a hand coming down to tear into your ass as you feel your body shake at the feeling of another orgasm, legs trembling as your body convulses. 

“Yes, just like that!” Fuyumi cried, enjoying the way your fingers ran against her spongy walls, and she clenched around both your tongue and fingers. You can feel her body convulse as she cums, and you moan as her taste floods your senses, overpowering even Touya, who thrusts into you three more times, sending hot cum inside your ass with a grunt. 

Saliva and slick dribbling down your chin while Fuyumi collapses before you. 

You moan pathetically when you feel the hot, thick cum of Natsuo spilling inside your womb, and all siblings are out for the count, cocks still buried in you, but no longer fucking you.

“I think you still that shit geezers cum in you,” Touya observed, landing another harsh smack on your behind. The motion made you lurch forward. Your mouth never felt so lonely. 

“Please, please,” you babbled while trying to persuade the brothers to continue to fuck your holes mercilessly, your words muffling with your wanton cries and pleas. He grunted at the sensation, his cock twitching inside your cunt as you knew he was reaching his end once again. 

“Please, what?” Natsuo snapped, his hips unable to keep from thrusting so powerfully upwards, you nearly tumbled forward. 

“Say it louder!” Fuyumi gleefully sang, her fingers digging into her cunt, her hips thrusting up to pleasure herself. Her foot moving upward to press against your chin in a power move that made you bite down with intense vigor on your lower lip.

“Please put your cum in my mouth, otou-san!” you desperately screamed.

But there was a growl that came from Enji, and your eyes watched the way that Rei’s mouth expertly took in her husband's cock with no still, no hesitation, or an ounce of pain. Your vision was crossing and blurring in pleasure at the light but synchronized thrusting of both Natsuo and Touya. You shivered, watching Rei commanded herself against his length, and with a powerful and loud grunt, Enji came into Rei’s mouth. A wanton moan left your lips at the sight of Rei pulling away from him, a trail of saliva and cum keeping his cock tied to her mouth, but even you could tell she didn’t swallow.

Your heart hammered in your chest when she rose up to her full height, her grey eyes meeting yours immediately, and she strode over. Every step is slow, powerful, and commanding.

She smiled sweetly, something you hoped meant that you were doing well in this entire situation, and as if to ease your doubts and worries, her lips pressed against yours. You could say that it was a kiss, but the way that she climbs onto the bed, ignoring her masturbating daughter, allowing your head to stretch backward, you know that it isn’t. 

Milky white and thick substance dribble past her lips and into your mouth. It’s a messy exchange, sloppy at best, but your mouth opens, a blind and degrading attempt to get every single drop of Enji’s cum to pour into your mouth. You swallow it all, gasping when Rei pulls away, her fingers stroking your cheeks with fondness and joy, “Good girl!”

You were done.

Your chest heaves at the sight of Shouto’s siblings and father leave your bed one by one, your body deflating when the cocks leave you, but somehow Touya is the last one to leave. His mouth presses into your ear before he goes, his fingers hidden by his figure twist at your nipple, your mouth whining softly. “Make sure you give Shouto a hard time, don’t give in.” 

Your eyes lock with Natsuo, who nods in agreement, and you realize that this was something they had wanted too. 

The worst part is that you want to see it happen. What would happen if you push Shouto past all his boundaries after all of this. And with that, he shoves you onto the bed. You feel like the world is spinning as you lie there. The realization of everything that’s happened to you within the past however long, the incessant need for more. You wanted more of this, you wanted Shouto more than anything too, but in this mental slip, you knew that you were going to make Shouto work for you. These alphas commanded it, after all. 

You laid silently on the mattress. Your body used to the maximum, the feeling of cum still seeping from your throbbing cunt that felt like it could cum no more today. But more importantly, was the clanking of metal hitting the floor, proud chuckles sounding in the air that makes you keen for the sound against your ear, and the sound of a storm approaching hits your ears. 

Oh yes, you were so beautifully fucked, and yet, you were so, so ready for it.

.

..

.

Shouto had never, ever felt this way before. 

White-hot fury and jealousy corroded his veins, yet there was unmistakable pride as he watched your used, cumstuffed body lay on the bed. He’s unsure if the lips that press to his cheek are his mother or his sister, unsure if they whisper something against his sweating, hot skin. He watches his father remove the restraints from him, steam curling out of the quirk cancelers as they dropped heavily to the floor. 

He hated this initiation; he hated having to share you. He didn’t want you anywhere near his family anymore, not with how you were able to keep up with their monstrous personalities in bed. 

Shouto was the baby of the family, but he was the best — the perfect creation of them all — and he was going to prove it. With his body finally free, and his family taking their seats, his siblings' grins searing into his back, he stalked over to the bed where you lay. You reeked of sex and his family’s cum, and his eyes narrowed at the way your eyes were closed in your exhaustion.

Ten minutes his ass, he was going to fuck you until he saw fit. 

You were his, after all.

Delirium filled your body while you stared up at your lover. 

Eyes wide in hunger, desire, and an unquenchable need that you had no idea existed within you. His wrists were bright red, the apparent struggle from being contained in his chair almost too obvious. His fingers rolled against his tender flesh, but you turned your focus over to the panting Todorokis’. They were all sitting in their chairs, sweat lining their brows, clothes barely on, and staring at you like you were the best sacrificial whore. You were the best, you wistfully sigh, your giggles escaping your mouth despite Shouto climbing onto the cum-stained bed with you.

The bed was loud in your ears, but the throbbing need and your weakened body still managed to wiggle away from Shouto despite it being his turn.

He hadn’t broken free from the restraints, you thought, pouting when his steel-like grip fastened onto your ankle and yanking you back towards him. Whining softly, the barely healed welts from Touya’s burning fingers on your ass dragged against the bed, and you looked up at Shouto with a pout on your face. Weren’t you enough for him to destroy the restraints that bound him?

You struggle against his hold, almost forgetting that it was Shouto on the bed when Touya and Natsuo chuckle. But something happens.

For the first time since you had entered this room, a pair of hot lips slam against yours—deadly, hot, and burning with passion, lust, and possession. Delicious and voluptuous moans escape your lips, your hands pressing flat against his bareback. His white t-shirt was tight on his body from his sweat, and his muscles pressed roughly against your body. You whimpered in your desire, trying to keep up with the way that he was devouring you with his mouth.

His tongue pushed into your mouth, sweeping across your tongue in the way that you liked it, the way that always made your back arch, and your breath hitched. Your moans are swallowed by his mouth, and his fingers dig their way further and further into your bruised hips. You try to pull apart from his lips, but when you pull away, Shouto is on you again, his lips glued to yours, his jean clothed bulge grinding into your raw, exposed cunt. 

You cry out loudly, your fingers digging into his back, your body arching into his because fuck was he already giving life to your cunt that you thought had died out several sessions ago. But it was rough, it was uncomfortable. 

“S-Shouto, your jeans!” you squeak into his mouth, your nails tearing through his shirt. “It hurts!”

“You can take it,” Shouto persisted, his mouth leaving yours and moving to your ear all while the fabric above the zipper now rubbing up against your clit in a way that made you pant harder against his mouth. But his next words are venomous; they’re dripped and soaked with unrestrained, raw jealousy that sends a powerful shiver down your spine when he whispers it in your ear. “Take it like you took all their fucking cum, you fucking whore. I know you probably enjoyed it — having them cum in your cunt? I can taste that stupid bitch and asshole in your filthy fucking mouth, how disgusting is that?”

“I didn’t h-have a choice!” you cry, his fingers expertly rolling against your clit, making your hips manically buck against his clothed hard cock, the building pressure in your core blazing higher and higher with his every stroke and move. “I had to get them to cum!”

“And when they told you to tell me who you belonged to? You really think that was a part of getting them to cum?” Shouto snarled, his teeth biting roughly into your skin that made you sing in pleasure-filled pain. His hips stop rutting into you, but you could hardly notice with your own desperate, wild thrusting. A wet spot drenched the crotch of his jeans, and you’re positive it’s all from you. “Tell me who the fuck do you belong to?”

“The Todorokis’!” you sob, and Shouto sneers.

His hands place themselves powerfully on your throat and your waist, shoving you away from him.

You cry in desperation, the orgasm that was seconds from exploding taken from you within a blink of an eye. Your head bouncing off the mattress while Shouto glowers over you, his eyes never this angry, and his lips pulled back into a snarl.

“So you think you’re the community whore?” he quietly rages, and you feel disgusted in the fact that his anger sends lustful shivers down your spine. “Guess I’ll have to fucking retrain you—” his lips pressed against your ear, his hot puff of airs spreading goosebumps wherever he touched— “You’re mine, only mine.”

“I’m going to make you taste like me again, gonna make every inch of you they ruined erased with my touch,” Shouto announced to you, his body still working around the bed, taking in everything he needed to make this just right.

Your eyes twitched while you watched him undress, the t-shirt flung towards his sitting family, his jeans dropped to the floor. You managed in heated anticipation as the cock you were ever so familiar with sprung free when he took off his underwear. Like a trained bitch, your cunt clenched and your mouth water while you watched the swollen, angry head bounced against his lower abdomen. He wasn’t the girth of Enji, the size of Natsuo or the monster that was Fuyumi’s strap, but still staring at the entirely long and thick cock made your mouth water, your eyes fluttering in need. 

“Are you going to fuck my mouth?” you begged in delicious need. “Please fuck my mouth, Shouto!”

“I did say I take all of them away, didn’t I?” Shouto narrowed his eyes as he stared at you. His hand reached to the box, a thin layer of ice overcoming the entire machine before he came up. “To kill their cum in your belly. Like fuck they’re breeding you.”

Your eyes blinked rapidly; the thought of ice-penetrating your readying cunt reminded you of the few times you’ve tried this before. “W-Wait but that really—”

“Still haven’t learned after all this time?” he sighs, shaking his head. “That’s okay, you’ve always been a stubborn bitch.”

Your eyes widen in horny horror; he was allowed to do anything he wanted to you. Your shoulders strained, and you attempted to relax in the tied position, but Shouto was having none of that.

Grabbing you by the back of your neck, Shouto thrust you forward. Your parted and bruised lips were near the swell of his balls, the base of his cock. 

“Right there,” Shouto approved when your tongue took a slow and dreadfully long swipe at his throbbing cock. “You belong to me, and will only carry my children. I’m not putting my cock in your cunt when it’s full of their cum,” he says with a coy smile, his feet thrusting your knees further apart, dropping your needy cunt onto the iced dildo without so much as a sigh. 

Your back curled with the foreign bitter and icy dildo that seemed to melt within your blazing walls. You screamed his name, your body twisting at the cold intrusion, your body feels so wrong, yet the thrill and shivers that pulsating from your core made you moan like a bitch in heat. If it wasn’t for Shouto’s hold on you, you knew that you would have collapsed onto the mattress, but his grip was firm, and his eyes glinting in approval.

“Now,” he affirms, the smirk on his lips heard a mile away as he turns on the machine. Immediately the fuck machine blows into your tight and slippery cunt, your eyes rolling backward at the mere sensation of the speed it was at. A loud mewl leaves your throat, the icy cock pushing further into your slippery core. His fingers snuck behind your head, gathering your hair, and a sob croaked through your voice as your body finally relaxed against the cold fucking. “Continue.”

With your head tilted backward, Shouto yanked his hand up, your head snapping down with a pained yelp, and with his other hand, he guided his cock down, sliding into your long-abused throat. But ever so eager, so apt to get his family to know they had no right over you, Shouto wastes no time starting his conquest.

You try to keep up with the momentum of the toy and his viciously thrusting hips, your hips grinding down against the toy despite its insane speed. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, and you gag against his cock. Shouto chuckles, his hands keeping steady on your hair, keeping your bobbing head at a pace he enjoyed. Your lips remained wide, your eyes blinking rapidly at the feeling of his hot flesh pressing dangerously against your tongue. He moves to knead your breasts, the bites, and bruises littering your chest, something he sneers at, something he jabs his fingers onto. You cry against his cock, the vibrations from your resulting actions making him moan low and tight.

“Look at you, so desperate,” Shouto snaps, his fingers tweaking your nipples, pulling your lower lip down, so saliva poured without the ability to be stopped. “So fucking needy.”

The words ignite a fire within you, and your legs tremble in unspoken glee as cum and water drip from your cunt. You wanted him to fuck you until you were nothing less than a mess. You needed him to give you his cock instead of this stupid fucking machine. You wanted nothing more than for him to claim you in front of his family to show that you were more than capable of joining their ranks. You wanted him to be yours and forever yours.

You wanted Shouto, you needed him.

Your deep moan of epiphany took Shouto by surprise. Shouto peering down on you with bemused eyes, the rolling of your hips against the machine that was making it angle into you differently, and your stomach bulged with every slam of the defrosting dildo. Your tongue pressed up against his swollen head, pressing flat against the leaking tip. Shouto’s thighs clench in his suppressed pleasure when your mouth sucks against the head of his cock, your teeth teasingly running against the underside of his cock, against his vein.

“I guess it doesn’t take long for you to remember whose whore you are,” Shouto grins, his hips moving more unrestrained into your mouth.

Making a pleasant sound, you hollow your cheeks out and taste the saltiness of his pre-cum that soaked onto your tongue. Delighting at the harsh curse, you guided him further in, your throat relaxing with every inch you take, and tightening with every slam of the dildo. It was swinging highs, your throat clenching when you relaxed your cunt. It was a game, and it was one that Shouto was fond of.

He’s pulling on your hair hard enough to hurt, enough so that you can choke against him, the angle and the position on your back already increasing the likelihood of that happening.

Shouto’s grip on your hair tightens, and he smirks when he realizes that you’re keeping up impeccably. His dance turns aggressive and contentious; it’s too much for you to keep up with, the echoing wet gags emitting from your voice a beautiful reminder of you being a fuck toy to him. He steers his cock further down your throat. You don’t bother to hide how satisfied you are by his action as you relax your throat and hollow your cheeks.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his hips bucking forward, he can’t stop himself from craving more. You don’t mind; you open wider to take more of him in, and his cock thrusts further down your throat. He’s now panting, in his desperation, judging from the strangled sound he makes as you take him even deeper. “Just like that, angel.”

There it was, you brightened at the nickname you were so used to hearing from him. Just as quickly as you caved back to him, he was back to you in full steam, he was yours, you were his. He was doing this for you, despite everything that would happen to the two of you after this night was done. He loved you, and every maddening, savage thrust of his hips only proved that.

The raw, primal, and wet noises of his cock entering and leaving your throat are bordering deranged, added onto that is the dildo penetrating your sopping cunt again. The pressure is back, and it’s settled deep in your lower belly, and you want to cum more.

Your choking noises music to both your ears; he doesn’t let up, only snapping his hips faster, harder, rougher. Your eyes begin to roll backward at the force, his balls slapping you in the chin with every slam of energy.

But you love the sensation of the raw and primitive fucking he was giving you, and you felt your hips thrusting forward, the ice keeping the block in place cracking under your powerful twist, your walls clamping against the insanely moving dildo. Yet, when you shift lower onto the dildo, trying to get the slowly heating dildo to kiss your cervix, his hands locked behind your head, and you cry around his cock, saliva dripping from your lips and your chin, falling on your chest and his thighs.

“That’s right, take my fucking cock, just like that,” he snarls, taking giant thrusts until his cock is completely buried in your throat, your nose pressed into his balls. Your tongue still desperately revolves around the veins on his cock while you choke against his pounding force. You choke against him, the noise music to his ears, while your legs spasm as your orgasm is drawing nearer and nearer.

“Angel,” he manages to get out through gritted teeth, his face immediately recognizing the tremor in your body, the crossing of your eyes. “Fuck, y/n. You’re not gonna cum just… just—” he cuts himself off with another groan as the tip of his cock hits so far down your throat you feel your neck bulge, and his foot kicks the box away, ripping the no longer iced dildo from your cunt, stopping yet another high from crashing into you.

There’s a brief moment of panic as you struggle to breathe, the sudden dismissal of the dildo catching you equally off guard. The force is a bit more than you expected, but you relax, trying to get yourself to calm back down. But then you inhale through your nose and force your throat to rest until you can take him all in, the oxygen burning as it makes its way past his cock in your throat. Not long after that, Shouto lets out a long, loud groan when his seed shoots down your throat.

It explodes in your throat, and to your horror, you find yourself struggling to take the sheer force of his load and the fact that he just seemed to keep unloading within you. Uncontrollable panicked coughing and choking rattle your throat while Shouto is still balls deep in you. The second he removes his cock from your throat, you collapse awkwardly onto the bed, your core throbbing from your denied orgasm, and your airway burning as cum drips past your lips.

You continue hacking, the bitter taste of cum scorching your throat, and you continue to let his cum run down your chin, dripping onto the cum soaked mattress. It burned and hurt to breathe. Turning your head towards Shouto, who turned off the fucking machine, his eyes were locked on you already, a condescending smirk on his face while he ran a hand through his hair.

Whatever he had used to hold your wrists and ankles in place were burned off the moment he got back on top of you, his hands pressing onto the mattress by your head the moment you managed to relax. Your eyes were hazy in lust and love while his eyes pierced through you heavenly. The smile that spread on his lips made you sight softly, his lips once again pressing against yours.

You pushed back against his mouth, allowing his tongue to roll deeply, languidly in your mouth. His lips were gliding effortlessly on yours. Quiet yet commanding while he slapped your cunt with his once again hard cock. 

“Shouto, I wanna cum,” you plead against his lips, your hands grasping onto his shoulders while you roll against his hard cock. “Please let me cum.”

“Don’t you think you’ve cum enough, angel?” he asks, his mouth trying to drown out every sound you made. “I finally made you taste like me.”

You stagger out a groan, your body trembling in desperate, uncontrollable need, “And I taste so good now! Please let me cum!””

Your begs do nothing to get Shouto to slam his cock in your cunt, but his teeth sink against old bites, igniting your skin, making you whimper under his touch. “Beg more,” he snaps, his fingers moving to grip your waist, his mouth hovering above yours, smiling when you follow after him like a trained bitch. “Tell me why you deserve my cock in your cunt.”

“I only want your cock,” you mewl, your arms wrapping against his neck, slamming his lips back onto your mouth. Your legs wrap around his waist, your hips grinding into his cock to reinforce your point. “I want your cum in me, I want my pussy to taste like you again! I want to feel your cock kissing my cervix, please Shouto, give me your cock.”

“You really are a mindless whore, aren’t you, angel?” Shouto laughs while he moves up, and to the credit of his strength, quickly lifts you well, his fingers burying into your soft, sore ass. “What do I have to do to get you to fucking fight back with me now? Are you really that desperate for my cock that you’re not even going to be the brat that I know you are?”

However, there is no time to argue the glee in Shouto is too grand to even consider making you bite back. He tosses you back onto the mattress, grabbing your legs and dragging you closer to him, your sensitive ass burning against the cum soaked bed until you are before him. Your pained breaths still as Shouto smirks down at you, his hand picking you up by your waist and flipping you over so that you are on your stomach.

Your gaze meets the other Todoroki’s who look at you with prideful, adoring looks. But before you could relish the feeling of their accepting eyes, Shouto has his chest pressed against your ass, his cold and hot skin burning into your ass, and his right hand angling his once again hard cock upwards to your cunt.

“Shouto…” you whimper, his teeth branding your skin. “Why didn’t you brand me properly.”

“It’s no fun fucking you if you pass out,” Shouto claims, placing a pillow underneath your head, and your heart swells at his actions. 

“Breed me then,” you pout, your eyes looking up at your lover as if gazing upon a god. Sweat trailed down his body. Your slick somehow all over his body, and yet he looked down at you with a smirk. You wanted his nine-inch cock finally pressed inside you, drilling into you until you lost sight of what was wrong or right.

“You want me to breed you?” he asks, his hands trailing to the underside of your thighs, slowly, teasingly lifting them up in a press he knew you enjoyed most. “Do you deserve to be bred?”

Your head nods, your teeth tearing into your lower lip when you grab his cock. You rut it between your folds letting new and old essence slick his cock up again, your eyes fluttering while your face heats up at the sight of his powerful, heavy eyes refusing to break contact with you. “I want you to fill me up, daddy. I want my belly bulging with you cum, I want you to cum in me, fill me till I ooze.”

There was a ragged breath that exhaled from Shouto’s lips while you aligned his cock right back up into your drumming cunt, his eyes blazing into yours with both fire and ice, and he said exactly what you want him to say. “I’ll make sure to fill you until you’re dripping with my cum for an entire week,” Shouto promises, and his hips slam within you.

There is something about having the wind knocked out of you when put into a mating press by Shouto that never fails to have you act up. Your knees are buried within the mattress by your head, legs dangling over his shoulders, your toes curling and pressing against each other, while longing, loud cries of lust power through your throat. Shouto lays on top of you, the penetration deep, and his hands gripping your hands. The weight of having him on you is exhilarating, and once again, his lips press hungrily against yours while balls deep within you.

His cock slams against the wall of your cervix repetitively while his lips overwhelm you. Each blow into you is massive and powerful, every stroke of your entangling tongues sends shivers down your spine. It’s powerful, ardent enough to have you sobbing in glee into his mouth while he kisses you, his hands clutching your smaller ones in his.

Again and again, he slams into you. His thrusts knock the wind out of you until you release his hands and find yourself digging your fingers into his back, pulling him impossibly closer so you could feel his heartbeat against your chest. You cry out his name desperately while his teeth find a home on your neck, sinking into flesh he had broken not so long ago. The powerful pounding of his cock makes you ebulliently cry, your hips jerking up to meet his, but you’re useless against his heavy downward thrusts.

“Impregnate me, baby,” you babble, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, “breed me, breed me, breed me!”

“You’ll be full of my fucking kids in no time, your cute belly will be round with our kids,” he rumbles, his cock throbbing and twitching within your pussy, and loud wet echoing slaps fill the room. Your nails claw at his back, cutting into his flesh in multiple places with clean four red lines.

You couldn’t take the feeling of how his body moved perfectly within you. The raw strength and power behind his every move were almost too natural as if this was an everyday thing. He was the one made for you, you knew that with every barbarous thrust, every perfect cry that was swallowed by his mouth when he came back to kiss you. His lips are intoxicating as they are swollen and bruised. You let out noises reasonably similar to a purr, grinding your cunt, raising your hips against his dominating cock, and laughing breathlessly at his low groan.

“You like this, angel?” Shouto sucks on your tongue despite the glimpse of humor in his eyes, his thrusts making you shriek out his name as he buries you further into the bed, your nails scarring into his flesh. “You like the way my cock fills your pussy? You like the way that despite all the cocks you just had, mine is still your favorite?” You nod rapidly, your eyes closed, your mouth open, the saliva string between the two of you breaking, and your pants tumbling from your mouth. 

Your sanity was lying on a string, his cock, and body the reasons for your downfall.

The muscles on his back seemed to flare dramatically, your screams became silent, your voice giving out as your eyes crossed, your tongue falling out of your mouth in a physical reaction to your pleasure.

“You look so cute like this. Look at how your belly fucking bulges when I fuck into you,” he growls into your ear, his hips unequally slamming into you. You shook, eyes barely able to look at your stomach that expands with every thrust, and you moan in fervor.

“I need you to breed me,” you strangle out, the fire in your face as bright and hot as the one between your legs. His sweaty forehead pressed against yours, and his lips recapture yours.

Your mind goes blank when a mighty crash goes through you. But Shouto must not have felt the familiar spastic clamping of your inner walls as he continues pistoning his hips into you, hitting your cervix, and pushing it further up with every slam. You cry against his mouth, your hands shoving at his shoulders as the feeling of your orgasm is too strong to deny, and he slips out of you.

You squirt wildly, your juices going everywhere, his cock viciously slamming side to side against your folds, wetting his groin area, and splashing against the bed.

“Fuck, you’re mine. You’re beautiful, and you’re forever mine,” he promises, and once again slams into you.

Your scream is silent, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your fingers digging into his neck, and your toes curl. His hips are driving, persistent, and have a goal in mind. You can barely keep up with him, your long overstimulated body wanting to collapse, but he doesn’t stop.

The bed creaks loudly under you, his hand shooting out to the headboard, the reinforced back thundering where he made contact, but he continues to drill into you over and over again.

“Cum, alpha,” you beg, your hips wildly thrashing against his. “Please, overfill me with your cum!”

“Who do you fucking belong to?!” he snarled once more, and you convulsed, white-hot pleasure shooting through you as your mouth, heavy by his ear, whispers a simple phrase.

“Yours and only yours.”

That’s all it takes, and a hot and heavy load shoots through you, and Shouto’s hips jut into you a few more sloppily, wildly inconsistent times until he too collapses onto you. Neither one of you reacts as his family claps, but your mind and cunt is full of Shouto to care — your nose burying appreciatively into his neck. His body twitching while his cock remains hard within you, the feeling of his cum swimming in your cunt, making your head spin with euphoria.

Drowsiness hits you quickly, and Shouto’s immense body heat is quickly putting you to sleep.

He doesn’t pull out of you yet, and the feeling of his cock growing soft in you makes you whimper, and he flips the two of you over so that you’re laying on his chest. His hands send warm and cooling waves through your body, helping soothe the aches in your tired body.

It takes a bit longer for you to allow him to climb off you; you wanted to have him pressed against you still, to be in this space with him and only him. But before Shouto can leave the bed to gather what he needs to clean the both of you up, a small pleased sigh comes from the seating area. Your eyes focused on the family who all watched you two with accepting, loving looks, and you try to calm Shouto, who stares aggressively at his family as if they had never seen you naked. However, Rei was the one to walk over to your sweaty sex smelling bodies and hugging you both tightly.

“You did so well, y/n!” Rei whispered against your ear, her hands holding both yours and Shouto’s when she pulls away, the kind motherly look in her eyes despite it all. “You deserve the Todoroki last name! I can’t wait to see what becomes of you two! Welcome to the family, Todoroki y/n!” 

Despite the intensity of the past hour, it’s this that makes your face burn, your stomach dancing with butterflies at the slip of her tongue.

“Maybe we can have some more fun later?” Touya raunchily grins while they file out of the door, his laughter like a bell in the wind when they do leave. 

You sigh softly, your head shaking. Your head looks down at Shouto, who’s looking down at his hands, his possessive expression gone, replaced by sincerity and ethereality. “What’s that?” you hoarsely whisper, your fingers grazing his wrists, your eyes widening when you saw a ring sitting in the palm of his hand. “That’s a beautiful ring…”

Shouto nods a hum on his lips in his agreement. He pauses, eyes dragging to your face, and the softest smile overcomes his face.

“Y/l/n y/n, would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

You smile, a giggle erupting in your lungs, the pain of your body ignored as you crawl to him, your hand pressing onto his cheeks, your head nodding.

“Yes.”

“Welcome to the family... Todoroki y/n.”

[sxdmoonchxld]

Operation: Pop The Cherry | JJK

Jungkook x Virgin!Reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: rough bathroom sex, college au, unprotected sex, teasing, fingering, Jungkook has a virgin kink if you couldn’t tell by he title, lowkey sadistic JK, Gay BFF Jimin, mentions of alcohol and weed, brief mention of homophobia. bIG diCK Jungkook, more belly bulging, and I forgot what else

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: Against you better judgement and thank to your best friend Jimin. You somehow agreed to let a stranger on campus known as the Cherry Popper, too well..pop your cherry.

Alternatively: You're a virgin. Jungkook has a fetish/kink for fucking virgins.

A/N: I guess i’ll keep putting this note until i stop reposting my old stories. I use to be lizardsocial, and this fic was previously called Game. You may still be able to find it somewhere on tumblr. I edited this fic heavily and it’s honestly a new story, but there are still some elements from the fic it used to be still in there. Unedited so please let me know of any mistakes or typos. Like, comment, reblog, let me know what you think. Enjoy!

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Bass boosted pop music seeped through the dense walls of the energetic room. Strobing bright colored beams danced to the rhythm of the music in mesmerizing synchrony. The musty odor of marijuana, booze, and sex-saturated air shrouded the room in a turbid veil, covering the sea of drunken undulating bodies packed in the cramped living room.  Empty beer cans and other various booze bottles mixed with burnt-out blunts accompanied the young adults. You groaned with irritation and disgust. You didn't want to be here, but to your chagrin, you had a promise to keep.

It wasn't a secret that the college nightlife was unquestionably not your type of 'scene.' You quite frequently elected to willingly engage most of your time in your freshman dorm, wrapped in your weighted burrito blanket. A nightstand stockpiled with all your favorite snacks, lights dimmed low, and lavender incense burning, filling your room with the aroma of relaxation. The perfect setting to binge-watch your favorite show for the umpteenth time, the shifting distorted brightness of your computer screen, projecting the scenes against your face. 

It's kind of funny how you got yourself into this mess in the first place. The one time you decide to take the chance and branch away from the alternate antisocial hermit, your personality had adopted as its own had come back to bite you in the ass. You admit, lately, you've been neglecting your best friend. Your reasonings generally varying from the classic 'oh I was sleep' to deliberately silencing your phone, not wanting to hear the constant shrill ringing of the default ringtone. You loved Jimin, you truly did, but you could only take so much of his eccentric mashup of bubblegum and rainbow sparkles that was his personality. Eventually, guilt began eating away at you piece by piece until you ultimately caved in and invited your friend over for an impromptu movie night in your dorm room. 

Not even 30 minutes into the movie, one that you had been dying to see, might you add, Jimin commenced his drunk and high chattering. He had already started 'pre-gaming' before he came over; Six shots of straight Vodka and 2 blunts. Every day you prayed for this man's liver and brain function; with how much he drank and smoke, you would think he needed it to function. 

"Oh! Oh! Bitttch. Did I tell you about that football player, I fucckked last week!" Jimin started slurring on certain words. You noticed his eyes were glossy and glazed over. 

"No, you didn't, Chim." You sighed, completely giving up trying to watch the movie. You would have to watch it on your alone time. 

"Reeaally?" Jimin slurred, a goofy grin uplifting his lips.

"Yes, really. You haven't told me." Amusement lightly coated your voice. 

"Welll, his name is T-tae, Tae-tae something. Hold on, it's coming to me." Jimin said, rubbing the sides of his temples, trying to remember the guys' name. 

"Taehyung! That's it!" Jimin shrieked, snapping his fingers in victory.

You looked at him startled. You remember Taehyung from high school. You didn't recall him being at this college, though. Well, it wasn't like you paid attention to many things outside your bubble anyway.

"Wasn't he homophobic as fuck in high school?" You asked, genuinely interested.

"Yeah, he was. Buttt I guess he was trying to cover up, that he was actually on the DL." Jimin smiled, whispering the last part.

"DL? What's that mean?" You inquired

Jimin looked at you with a look of betrayal. "It means he's on the down-low, meaning he didn't want anyone to know he's gay. Girrl, I'm too crossfaded to be explaining this to you."

You chuckled, " My bad, Chim. So was it good?"

"Fuck, no! Dick was straight trash. The only thing that saved him a little was that his dick was huge." Jimin said, wiping away a pretend tear from the corner of his eye. 

You laughed boisterously at that. If Jimin wasn't so adamant about becoming a professional dancer. He could seriously take up a career in comedy.

"Speaking of dick. When are you gonna get some?" Jimin asked, turning his body to face you completely. As you looked at him, you noticed his eyes seemed a bit clearer, and his face wasn't as red as earlier. Not only did Jimin drink like a fish and smoke like a chimney. He was somehow able to sober just as fast.

"Oh my god, Jimin. Please don't sta-"

"Mmm, no missy," Jimin said, wagging his finger in your face.

"Don't you hear it?" He said, cupping his hand around his ear as if he was straining to hear something.

"Hear what?" You replied, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms against your chest.

"The cobwebs and tumbleweed living in your cunt."

"Jimin!" You shrieked, slapping the arm closest to you.

"Don't Jimin me! You know it's true, I swear you're gonna be a 40-year-old virgin, and by the time you finally make the decision to have sex, it'll be too late!" Jimin yelled, stumbling to stand up from the couch.

"First off, ouch. I won't be a 40-year-old virgin. That's very insulting. Second, I do plan to lose it soon. I just haven't found the time or the right guy." You said, looking down at your feet shyly. You did want to lose your virginity, but with being an introvert with a mix of social anxiety and just a dash of seasonal depression for added flavor. It was hard even to get out of bed sometimes. Much less going out and trying to find someone to do the do with.

"Oh! Well, if that's all, then I got you covered, babe. Time? Next week Friday at Jihyo's dorm. As for the right guy, I know a dude. He has like a kink for that kind of thing." Jimin answered nonchalantly, now scrolling through his phone, probably on his social media page.

You looked at Jimin, head tilted to the side, confused. "What kind of thing?"

"Oh, you know fucking virgins and shit. Popping their cherries." He said, popping his "P's."

You sputtered, exasperated. What the fuck. You didn't kink shame, that was for losers, but he can't seriously expect you to do something like that.

"What the actual fuck. Jimin, are you serious?"  

"Deadly." He said, looking you square in your eyes. His tone of voice haven dropped an octave lower.

"Jimin no. I-i can't."

"Jimin, yes! Err, I mean _____ yes, you can! Come on, it's a once in a lifetime experience. Plus, it's not like he's a total stranger. I've known him since he was 8 years old. I use to babysit the little shit head." Jimin said, waving his hand in the air, trying to swat away a rogue fly.

"Wow, Chim. You know, now that you put it like it makes me feel a lot better about the situation." You said tone dripped in sarcasm

"Really?" Jimin squealed, a delighted twinkling in his eye.

"Of course not! Don't be stupid!" Offended, you gawked at Jimin. You swear sometimes he could be so dimwitted.

"Come on, please? At least meet him, and if the vibe is not right, then you can leave no harm done." Jimin pleaded, his attention back on you. Was it crazy that you were actually thinking about agreeing to this? Jimin did have a point. It was sort of a once in a lifetime opportunity. He did know the guy, and if you didn't like the vibe, then you could just bounce, right? Right?

Sighing in defeat, your hands dragged down your face and turned towards a pouting Jimin. Grabbing at his deflated shoulders, you shook her lightly, and with urgency in your voice, you spoke, "Alright goddammit! I'll do it, but you have to stay by my side the whole time, no running off, you understand!" 

You watched Jimin's face quirk into a sly smirk. You swore you could see the cogs in his brain churning. Damn, you were going to regret this. You had the tendency to make deals when pressured. Most of the time, those agreements ended up backfiring on you, confining you in the proverbial rock and a hard place. 

"Yay! Operation: Pop _____ Cherry has commenced. Okay, so will meet at the auditorium on the art campus. From there we will walk to Jihyo's dorm, it's only five minutes. Promise me you'll actually show up and won't flake on me." A complacent expression rested arrogantly on Jimin's features, a single pinky finger extended towards you. 

"Don't give this situation a not-so-secret code name. And I can't believe I'm saying this but, I promise." You agreed, interlocking pinky fingers, yours thumbs coming up to press against one another.

"So I'll meet you at the location Friday, don't be late, and wear something sexy. No granny clothes." he chirped, making his way to your front door.

"Wait! You're leaving already?" you frowned, looking at the clock on your wall. He's only been here for an hour, and 30 mins of it were spent persuading you to hurry up and lose your virginity. You didn't even get to finish the movie together.

"Sorry babe, but I have a dick appointment." he shrugged, putting his arms through the sleeves of his jacket.

"Can you at least tell me the name of the guy who's supposed to fuck me?" you huffed, honestly you were done for tonight. As soon as Jimin left, you were heading straight for bed.

"Oh yeah, how could I forget." Jimin slaps the center of his forehead. "He's a real cutie. I would fuck him if he wasn't as straight as an arrow." Jimin looks off to a far wall, eyeing it with jealousy.

"Just tell me his name, please." You pleaded. Oh yeah, that's definitely a headache forming. You could feel it already. Jimin snaps out of his daydreaming and spins his body towards you.

"Jungkook."

Time skip to a week later, and precisely as you suspected, what a mistake that whole conversation was. Now here you were at this fucking dorm party with people you didn't know or care to get to know. Jimin had left you as soon as he saw his next piece of ass. Restlessly you hauled down the short black dress that insisted on riding up your ass, the soles of your feet protesting in the slim heeled shoes. Floundering your way into the packed building, you couldn't help but query where Jungkook was. Jimin was supposed to get around to send you a picture of the mystery man, but that never happened. Funny how now was the best time you decided to question why exactly Jimin was your best friend.

"Well damn, the pictures Jimin sent me doesn't do you justice at all. You're fucking hot." You recoiled from the closeness of the voice, the heated breath sending chills skittering down your spine, and the hairs on the back of your neck ramrod straight. Heat spurred to your face when you whisked around to meet an absolutely gorgeous guy. Like unfairly gorgeous guy. You stared wide-eyed, taking in his chiseled facial features, paired with wide doe eyes and bunny smile decorating his face. Somehow, someway he's mastered looked soft and sexy at the same damn time. And fuck was that a dangerous combination for your pussy. Your heart too, but more so your cunt.

"U-uh, thanks? Who are you exactly?" You watch as he recoils back from your with a look of apprehension on his face.

"A-are you not ____?" he stutters cutely. You think you can see the beginnings of a blush burning his cheeks. You nod your head once to confirm his question. He stared at you a minute longer before you see the recognition spark in his chocolate orbs.

"Jimin didn't send you my picture did he?" Shaking his head with his eyes close, you get the courage the scan his face a bit more. Yeah. He's definitely blushing.

"Sorry. I guess seeing you here, I thought Jimin would have...prepared you better." Shaking your head from side to side because your words refused to come out. You watched as he backed up a bit further from your personal space and thrust his right hand out to you. 

"The name's Jungkook, or J.K. Whatever suits your taste."

With clammy hands, you taking his outstretched hand marveled at how it almost covers your hand. Now that he's moved back from you, you now had to chance to see how tall he really was. Maybe about 6 to 7 inches taller. You look down at his feet and eye his combat boot, perhaps a little shorter but still taller. And big, yeah, definitely bigger. His oversized black jacket did little to hide the broadness of his shoulders and chest. You let your eyes travel down the length of his body. You bet he's hiding some killer abs under his shirt. And holy fuck, his thighs.

"You like what you see, baby girl?" Teasing, he's teasing but God, if his voice didn't make you pussy throbbing pathetically. Whimpering slightly, you let out a meek "Yes." God, you hope he didn't hear that.

Much to your dismay, he did, hear you. How he heard you with the music as loud as it was, was a mystery to you. But you watched his pupils dilate, and his nostrils flare slightly. Jungkook tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes rake up and down your scantily clad body. His heated stare scrutinized across your body, intrigue exerting over him, as he analyzed the way the snug-fitting dress molded to the curves of your shape. He could tell you didn't do this often. His dick twitched in his jeans with enthusiasm. 

It's the increase in pressure of your hand that makes you realize you're still holding his hand. You go to retract your hand from his. However, yelp shrilly as he tugs you closer to his body. Both hands now resting on his chest, and his wrapped around your waist. Fuck, you could feel the warmth and coarseness of his hands through your thin dress. A spontaneous tremor racked your body. The heat-transmitting from his frame mixed with the floral yet musky undertone of his cologne made you somewhat featherbrained.

"Fuck, you're so soft." You squeak as he squeezes your waistline, pulling you even closer against his body. You were now putty in his hands.

"Jimin told you my....preferences, right?" his voice caressed your ear. Just a slight movement or subtle twitch, and his lips would be on your skin.

"Y-yeah, he did." It should be an embarrassment how frail and breathless you sounded, but that didn't matter.

Jungkook hid his smile behind your ear. This was just too easy. Just how he liked it. He almost felt bad- almost. He was gonna ruin you utterly and completely, mold the shape of cock in the walls of your pussy. His name spilling from your lips, voice going hoarse by how loud he would make you scream. Fuck he couldn't wait. He's had virgin's before, a lot of them. That's his whole M.O. The cherry popper, virgin fucker, whatever. Jungkook's heard all the names in the book. But there's just something about you, you just had an air of genuine innocence, and he couldn't wait to defile it. 

Jungkook pulls his head back, enough to where his eyes can trail over the bared skin of your neck, and the sprinkling of perspiration sparkling off the bright strobing lights, no doubt from nervousness. His tongue traced over his thin upper lip, watching the droplets of sweat spiral down the curve of your neck. He wanted to taste you. 

"Alright, then." He jerks his body away from you. You're no longer touching his chest, but his hands are still on your waist. 

"Let's enjoy the party before the fun really begins. Every done body shots before?" Jungkook spoke casually, undeterred by the way you recoiled back or the look of stupor on your face.

"W-what? B-body shots, why?" you squeaked, failing to keep from stuttering over your words. Is this how it's supposed to go? Is this normal? You're bewildered, and just a bit perturbed. Were you just imagining that sexual tension that was going on just moments ago? For sure, you thought Jungkook was gonna throw you over his shoulders and haul you off to the nearest unoccupied bedroom or bathroom. At that instant, you didn't care. 

Jungkook regarded the war of emotions wage across your features, merriment and strobing lights twinkling in his eyes. Fuck, you were cute, so desperate staring up at him with a pout on your face a puppy dog eyes. He could honestly just take you back to the closest room and fuck the shit out of you. But he wanted to play with his prey, a bit more. The wait made it that much more satisfying.

"Don't pout too much, baby girl or I may not be able to contain myself. Follow me. The table is this way."

Jungkook didn't indulge in answering any of your questions you rambled off at him, delighted to see you trailing on his heels like a lost pup. Jungkook directed you further into the dorm, and like a dog on a leash, you followed. In the center of a sparse room sat a scraped up black table. You observed the area. It was devoid of many people. The several that were present made no recognition of your proximity in their intoxicated state.

"So who's first?" Jungkook asked, setting the bottle of tequila, rim salt, and limes down on the table.

"U-uh, I don't know. I guess it doesn't matter." You shrugged hesitantly. You were way out of your element here.

"Perfect then, you first." Jungkook should be ashamed by how excited he was at getting to sample your skin. It looked smooth, felt soft when he had you in his arms, and would no doubt probably taste as sweet as it seemed. You nodded in docility, wandering over to crawl on top of the table, being attentive to your dress. You lay flattened against the table, shiverings racking your body as he began pouring a trail of salt between your cleavage. 

He poured himself a shot in the depression of your throat and tore the lime in half with his bare hands. Smirking at how you flinched when he thumped the liquor bottle down beside your head. Jungkook pushed the other half of the unevenly split lime towards your lips, a silent gesture to take the lime in your mouth. Jungkook watched as your lips curled gently around the hull of the green citrus. A flare of lust stirred in his loins at the action. He couldn't wait to see your lips stretched around the head of his cock. He observed your eyes clamped closed as he began dropping his head forward to your chest. It was adorable and innocent. He noted the way your lips slackened around the citrus in your mouth, your chest heaving in speed, the closer his tongue trailed to your neck.

You tasted splendid, just as sweet as he thought. The salt on your skin did nothing to deter your natural flavor. If anything, it enhanced your sweetness, rendering your skin damn near mouth-watering. Jungkook's ears perked at the breathless moans slipping past the fruit perched against your lips, drawn out by the repeated pass of the wet, pink appendage lapping at the salt line between the valley of your breast. Committing your muffled moans to memory, he lapped persistently at the collection of salt and tequila in the hollow at the base of your neck.

You face flammed in embarrassment as panting moans effortlessly tumbled from your mouth. Who knew your chest and neck was such an erogenous spot. Despite your shame, you couldn't stop wriggling, shifting your thighs together for some form of friction to sate the rising arousal dampening your panties. You yelped at the sensation of blunt teeth nibbling at your skin before soft lips came to suck at the shallow indentations. Fluffy hair with an undercut came into your line of vision as Jungkook lifted his head up to your lips. Your heart stammered tortuously against your ribs, flirtatious eyes stared lidded with searing lust, his head advanced closer to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed, lips puckering against the bitter hull of the lime.

Jungkook closed the distance, slanting his mouth over the lime, blocking his contact with yours. He sucked against the sour fruit, acidity puckering his lips, residual tartness flowing to your cracked lips. Jungkook withdrew from your mouth, taking the drained lime hull with it. Your saccharine moans were heaven to his ears. It had awoken something inside him, fueled his fire in knowing that possibly no one had ever heard such a sweet sound. He wanted more, craved more. 

"Have you ever been kissed before, sweetheart?" Your eyes followed the movement of his tongue, poking out to moistening his lips. 

"Yeah, once in like 3rd grade." Who hasn't snuck behind a tree or hid underneath the dark coverings of playground equipment to lock lips with a childhood crush?

He grinned salaciously, body moving to rest between your spread legs. Oh, now he was really excited. Your lips were practically untouched. Just another part of your body to claim first. You jumped when palms pressed flat against the revealed skin of your thigh. Gently, Jungkook rubbed lazy circles on your skin, never lowering or furthering than the hem of your dress. He felt you wiggle beneath his hands, observed your eyes, glimpsing―darting about, should you concentrate on his face, or his hand, uncertainty was etched on your face.

"Amazing." He groaned, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, before grinning again. His face inched closer to yours, his lips but a breath apart, warmth flickered against your lips as he talked, level and smooth. " Well, how about I become your second?

And then his lips were on you, the soft muscle mangled itself to your lips, tentative and sluggish to give you a chance to register his mouth slanted upon yours. Jungkook chuckled against your lips at your unresponsiveness. He guesses you were a little shell shocked. It only takes a few more stagnant seconds before you're shyly reciprocating his kiss. Delicate, shaky movements highlighted your inexperience. Increasingly, Jungkook increased the pressure behind lips, his hands spreading to enclose around your waist, dragging you closer against him. One of Jungkook's hands removed from your waist to bury itself in your hair, gently his fingernails scratched against your scalp, an airy moan was his reward. 

Hands completely abandoning your midsection, one gripped the meat of your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the table, flush against the tent of his denim jean encased manhood, the other embedded in your strands pulled sharply on your roots, a loud gasp tearing from you. Jungkook took that opportunity to advance his tongue into your gaped mouth. His tongue wrapped itself around yours, briefly wrestling for dominance before easily pinning your tongue in submission. His hips ground against yours, the heat of your covered core teased him through his jeans. 

He thoroughly explored your mouth, swallowing the now copious cries leaving your mouth. Reluctantly, Jungkook tore himself from your kiss-swollen lips. The ravished looked suited you perfectly. You looked beautiful, thighs brazenly spread, eyes glazed over in lust, your sticky chest heaving from the length of the shared kiss. Even in the dim lights, he could make out the taunt pebbling of your nipples. 

Your mouth gaped wide, flapping about like a fish out of water, trying despairingly to draw air into your lungs. Your first kiss definitely didn't compare to this much. Your wide eyes flicked between Jungkook and the floor, your bottom lip tucked firmly between your teeth, feeling shy as he just stares at you. Releasing your teeth from your lips, you timidly touched your mouth, admiring how plump they've gotten from the intense liplock.

Wordlessly Jungkook hitched you over his shoulder, winded with a grunt as his defined shoulder blades dug into your stomach and what sounded like a growled vibrate up into you. You squirmed lightly in his hold, scared he was going to drop you, and secondly, your panty-clad ass on display for the party-goers, not that anyone was looking. 

You watched the continuous panels of hardwood floor move beneath you as Jungkook carried you to an unknown destination. You couldn't believe you were really doing this. Were you actually going to have sex with a complete stranger? Someone who was known for explicitly fucking virgins. Realistically, you should be ashamed, yet, you conceded full control to him without a second thought. What did that say about you? About your character? Would you now be labeled as 'easy' or a 'hoe' after all this was done? What was going to happen between you and Jungkook? 

The flick of a switch stirred from your thoughts. You shield your eyes with your hand at the bright lights pouring into the room, or rather a bathroom. Jungkook loved the confusion marring your features. He wouldn't fuck you in his bedroom just yet. That was a privilege you would have to earn, no matter how intrigued he had become with you. There's always humiliation to be had in the corruption of innocence, and fucking you in the bathroom was a good start. He planned on making you watch him as he destroyed your body, popping your cherry, stretching your tight virginal hole to accommodate his length, and claimed it as his own. Jungkook shuddered at the thought, his possessive nature taking a turn for the worst. 

Impatiently Jungkook sat you on top of the bathroom sink counter, his lips smashed against yours, the previous tenderness was gone, vanished into a puff of smoke. Teeth banged, and tongues flailed recklessly against each other in the heat of passion, with you struggling to keep up with the demands of his dominating kiss. Thick fingers trailed beneath the hem of your dress, tickling the expanse of your thighs. Jungkook wasted no time in shifting your slick soaked panties to the side, a warm digit gliding effortlessly through your damn folds.

"Fuck, you're already so wet. You're enjoying this a little too much, baby girl." Jungkook growled, panting against your lips. His finger breached your sex, you tensed deftly around the foreigner intrusion, stretching your weeping walls. 

"Ah, Jungkook." You cried listlessly, rocking your hips against his stilled finger. He felt so good inside you, and it was just his finger. Maybe this experience wouldn't be as bad as you heard. Now you couldn't wait to see what his cock felt like embedded deep within your pussy. Jungkook pumped slowly, eventually introducing a second finger to help loosen you up more. You were gonna be a tight fit, very tight, but that just made it even better. You hissed at the slight burn as he began scissoring his fingers apart with each withdrawal. Your hands wrapped around his neck as you buried your head against his broad chest, your mellifluous moans suppressed by the fabric of his shirt. 

"G-go faster, please." You begged, your body adjusting and quickly becoming frustrated by the snail's pace his fingers were pumping. You bucked your hips against his hands, hoping he would ease the growing discomfort boiling in your stomach. 

"Have you ever had an orgasm before, babe?" You nodded eagerly at his question, whining as you bucked against his hand again.

"Oh, really? Who gave it to you." Slow, he was going too slow you wanted, no you needed more friction, more stimulation from him.

"M-me. I-i did." Jungkook loved how you stuttered, it stroked his ego and filled him with arrogance to know it was him, and only that was capable of making you stumble over your words.

"Mmm, and how did you do it? Did you rub this little clit of yours raw?" You cried louder when his thumb flicked at your clit, the stimulation further drawing the appendage from its hood.

"Or did you fuck this tight hole, with these tiny fingers of yours?" At those words, a loud, choked moan, even muffled by your face in his chest, echoed throughout the white bathroom. Jungkook had gone deeper inside, almost to the third knuckle. Another moan left your lips as he twisted his fingers inside you, his palm now facing upwards.

"Though you and I bought know they couldn't possibly reach deep enough to touch the spot you really want." It's euphoric, no better yet orgasmic, the sheer shock of electric pleasure that zaps through your body when he finds the spongy bundle of nerves. Your body jerked heavily, legs go to snap close, only to be stopped by his broad body between your thighs.

He chuckles softly, stroking your thigh with his other hand. Jungkook shifts his head down, bringing his mouth closer to your ear. He exhales quietly, warm air tinged with tequila and lime caresses the light hairs on you around your ear. " I found it, huh?"

You whimper, rubbing your head up and down against his chest.

"You want me to speed up the pace, sweetheart?" Jungkook's voice is delicate now, so gentle. But you're confused, overwhelmed, and scared. It's never felt like this when you did it yourself. Your not sure if you could handle the feeling, so you don't provide an answer to Jungkook's question.

"Don't ignore me ____, that's not nice manners. I'll ask again." You clench around his fingers as Jungkook inches just a bit deeper. 

"Do you. Want me. To go faster?" With each pause, he arches his fingers in a 'come here' motion, pressing deeply against your bundle of nerves, the sensation of having to pee accompanied with each thrust.

 "Y-yes, faster, more. Pl-lease." Fuck, you sounded so pretty begging for him if he wasn't addicted before. You had him sprung now. Jungkook buried his face in the crook of your neck, the sharp smell of tequila and salt still lingering on your skin. He sucked at the junction where your shoulder and neck met. You bucked harder against his fingers, your juices now dripping to coat his palm is sticky cream.

"If you wanted more. Why didn't you just ask?" Jungkook said deviously. Confused, you felt withdraw his sticky digits, walls gripping to stop their departure. Without warning, Jungkook flipped you over onto the counter, your knees buckled at the sudden change in position. Your faced burning at your displayed state, droplets of your essence dribbled from your pussy, slicking up your inner thighs. You yelped as Jungkook grasped at the length of your hair, pulling back pointedly, your neck craned back to observe him addressing you in the mirror.

"You've been wondrous for me ____. Such a sweet girl." He expressed, his empty hand disappearing behind your perked ass to fiddle with the groin of his pants. 

"Truly, you have. Your response and reactions to my touch have really gotten me riled up. It's been a while since I've tittered on the edge of losing control." You wheezed, starting to panic as you felt the thick head of his cock slap teasingly against your slicked throbbing hole. Oh, God, he's huge. Jungkook's cock might just tear you apart. You shifted your hips forward, pressing against the cold marble of the bathroom counters door.

"I-i don't think, I can t-take it Jungkook, you're too b-big. It's my first-time, r-remember?” Your stuttering worse now, but you're scared.

Jungkook pulls your hips back with the hand the was grasping his length, the side of your hip now coated in his pre-cum. His hand lays flat in the crease of your back, forcing you into a perfect arch. 

"You can take it, all of it. And don't worry, of course, I remembered your fragility. I'll go slow, I promise." You plead silently with your eye contact through the mirror. 

"You ready?" You nod once an advert your eyes down to the sink.

Your mouth shakily falls agape as he slowly began pushing the head of his cock into you. It burns, but not as bad as you had anticipated. You take the chance to look back up into the mirror, adamant about giving Jungkook a thankful smile for his gentleness. That vision that greets looks like it jumped right off the page of your favorite erotic story. 

Jungkook's got his head thrown back, the edge of his t-shirt clenched tightly between his teeth, your eyes trail the drip of sweat that follows the curve of his jawline. You have a clear view of his abs all the way down to the v-cut of his hip, to the happy trail that leads to a neatly trimmed bush of pubic hair. You clench tightly around him, efficiently aroused by the view. You feel his cock throbbed heavily inside you, even getting bigger if possible.

"You like that, sweet girl? You like seeing me struggling to contain myself because you're so tightly around me. This little pussy trying to milk me for all I can give you." You love it. You feel powerful in a way. Do you really feel that good around him?

"Yes." Jungkook draws out the 'S.' 

"You feel amazing, so warm and wet. I wished you could see how coated in white you've got me, and I'm not even all the way in yet."

You scream soundless as he bucks into you, shoving in half of his length. It doesn't hurt anymore. You just feel stuffed full. Lifting a trembling hand, you take the chance a feel the lower part. You noticed swelling that wasn't there before, intrigued; you push down against it, moaning in shock you realize it's Jungkook's cock. 

"Yeah, baby girl, that's all me, well, most of me. You ready to take the rest?"

"Yes! Please!" That's the clearest you've been all night. You don't get an answer as Jungkook immediately picks up his pacing, thrusting into you faster. He wastes no time pumping deeply into your tight pussy, his tip smashing against the entrance to your cervix as you pant and grit your teeth in slight discomfort, overshadowed by pleasure. The burning sensation is back as he fucks in deeper with each brutal and swift stroke. But you don't care cause it still feels amazing. You can hear yourself, sloppy and soaking wet, echoing throughout the bathroom. You're drooling down his pistoning cock. You can feel it dripping down your inner thighs. Your head jerks violently against your shoulders, to weak support your head from his menacing thrust. 

Tightened vocal cords released strained shrieks of praise; from your mouth, drool dripping from your lips, into the sticky cleavage of your breast, and sweat coated your skin. The coil in your stomach was quickly tightening, never had you felt anything so deep inside you. If you ever had sex with anyone else, they would never compare to Jungkook.  You were fucked both figuratively and literally.

Jungkook pulled you further from off the sink, the new position allowing him even deeper. You clawed at the marble tops underneath your fingers, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. That sensation of having to pee is back again.

"J-K, I-m. I have to-," You don't get to finish as the band in your stomach snapped. Silently you announced your release; if it wasn't for the new wave of cum coating his cock, or the fluttering tightness of your walls, Jungkook might have missed your orgasm. He wasn't far behind you. The constant clenching of your ridged walls around his cock, had him reaching his limit sooner than he would like. Jungkook had half a mind to pull out but decided to gamble his odds. You're the first person he's fucked raw in a while, and with three deep thrusts later, he was shooting his hot seed right against your cervix. 

Breathing heavily, Jungkook lets you fall against the sink, observing as you crumpled against the sink countertop. Pride swelled his chest as he watched his seed bubble out of your well-used hole. He's never contemplated going farther with the virgins he fucked. He wouldn't make any hasty decisions now though there were still a lot of things he wanted to do with you. He would sleep on it and revisit the idea in the morning.

"So would you say, Operation: Pop Your Cherry was a success?"

You giggled, winded, still having difficulty catching your breath. You straighten up against the bathroom counter, the majority of your weight still resting on the object as you had yet to regain the feeling in your legs.

"Jimin and his stupid code names. I swear when I get a hold ass, he's dead." You warned already preparing your revenge on your best friend. You stare at Jungkook in the eyes through the mirror, smile a bit goofy, you say.

"Operation: Pop My Cherry. Mission complete."

[waitimcomingtoo]

hi bestie! xmas request for u <333 could you do one where the avengers clearly know that peter and the reader like eachother, so they (very undiscreetly) place mistletoes literally everywhere in the hq to get the lil babies of the groups to kiss? thank uuuuuuu love u!

Under The Mistletoe

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Masterlist

“Good morning everyone.” You greeted the Avengers as you walked in the kitchen one morning.

“Good morning.” Peters eyes followed you as you sat down next to him at the table. “I made you hot chocolate.”

“You did? You’re so sweet.” You took the mug from him and kissed his forehead. “Thank you.”

“Well you mentioned last night that you were always freezing in the morning so I thought this would warm you up.” Peter smiled sweetly at you, face flushed from the kiss.

“You’re too good to me. I was gonna put some whip cream on it. Do you want some?” You offered as you went to the refrigerator.

“Sure. Thank you.” Peter nodded as you put some whip cream on his hot chocolate. The rest of the Avengers watched the interaction, exchanging knowing glances every once in a while.

“So, what did you guys do last night?” Natasha asked curiously as she leaned on her hand.

“We went on patrol together and then walked around the city. It was snowing so it was really pretty.” You smiled as you remembered the night before. Natasha and Bruce made eye contact, giving each other a knowing look.

“Didn’t you get cold?” Bruce asked for his own amusement.

“My suit has a built in heater.” Peter told him.

“But Y/n’s suit doesn’t.” Tony added, understanding what was going on.

“Peter had his arm around me so the heat kept us both warm.” You told them as you sipped your mug, making everyone gush.

“Uh huh.” Tony nodded as he watched Peter put his arm around your chair. “So you went for a moonlit stroll through the city. Pretty romantic, don’t you think? Was it a date?”

“What?” Peter sputtered. “No.”

“We’re just friends.” You nodded a few too many times.

“You got some whip cream on your face.” Peter noticed the white dollop on your nose.

“Oh. Oops.” You laughed in embarrassment and went to wipe it off.

“I got it.” Peter wiped your face with his thumb, leaving both of you in a blushing mess.

“Thanks.” You giggled, gazing lovingly into his eyes.

“Right. Just friends.” Rhodey grimaced as he watched the disgusting love fest in front of him.

“So what are you doing today?” Natasha asked, finding the whole situation hysterical.

“We were gonna watch some holiday movies in my room before patrol.” Peter told her.

“Speaking of that, do you want to get started?” You asked him. “We have a lot to get through.”

“Sure. Bye guys.” Peter waved before resting his hand on the small of your back and leading you out of the room. Once you left, the Avengers let out the collective laugh they had been holding in.

“So…they’re in love, right? We can agree on that?” Tony asked as he looked around the room, seeing everyone nod at him.

“I have never seen anyone so whipped.” Rhodey laughed as he sipped his coffee.

“How have they not admitted their feelings?” Nat asked the room. “It’s so obvious.”

“This is worse than me and Nat.” Steve commented.

“Or me and Nat.” Bruce added.

“Or me and Nat.” Tony agreed.

“When are those crazy kids gonna get together?” Steve chuckled as he opened the newspaper.

“This gives me an idea.” Tony narrowed his eyes as he got a familiar devilish glint in his eyes.

“Oh no.” Steve recognized the glint. “This can’t be good.”

“By the end of the holiday season, I want Y/n and Peter to be together.” Tony said decidedly. “This will require a group effort in making it happen. In the weeks leading up to the holidays, I expect each and every one of you to get our dear Peter and Y/n to realize they like each other.”

“How do you expect us to do that?” Nat humored him.

“You will all plant mistletoe somewhere in the building.” Tony grinned wickedly. “The mistletoe that gets the most kisses out of them wins.”

“Wins what?” Bruce asked, just as intrigued as the rest of the team.

“Whatever you want. I don’t know if the giant building with my name on it gave it away, but I have money.” Tony stated. “Lots of it. Or how about this, the winner can pick and design a new room to be added to the tower.”

“I could use a physical therapy room.” Rhodey spoke up. “I don’t know if you guys remember, but my legs don’t work on their own anymore ever since I fell out of the sky.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.” Steve realized.

“Yeah. Nobody really talks about that.” Bruce agreed.

“I think we could all benefit from a new training room.” Nat threw in. “The old one has a permanent sweaty man smell.”

“We already have a training room. What we really need is some personal up keeping. Keeping myself this blonde is not cheap. A hair parlor in the building would be nice.” Steve suggested.

“Parlor.” Tony chuckled under his breath.

“I second that.” Bucky piped up.

“Of course you do, Jared Leto.” Tony teased.

“We don’t need a hair salon. What we need is another lab.” Bruce declared.

“Or a ballet studio.” Nat gasped.

“I think we should install an Olive Garden.” Bucky shrugged.

“How about a room full of murals of myself?” Thor smiled. “You can all gaze upon them and push yourself to stop being tiny and small.”

“Or another gym.” Rhodey shrugged.

“Or a wine cellar. But for beer! A beer cellar.” Thor cheered.

“We can discuss the room later.” Tony quieted everyone down. “If you really want these things, get the kids together. You know what you have to do.”

Tony

You and Peter often ate breakfast together in the same spot everyday, and Tony used that information to his advantage. He skillfully hung some mistletoe above your usual seats and patiently waited for your arrival. Soon enough, Tony heard your footsteps coming into the kitchen.

“Hey Petey.” You rubbed Peter’s back before taking a seat next to him. “Hi Mr. Stark.”

“Hey guys.” Tony smiled before looking up and gasping. “Oh golly gee, would ya look at that? Mistletoe! Who put that there?”

“Oh, wow.” Peter said as he looked up to see mistletoe hanging above the two of you. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Yeah. I probably wouldn’t have looked up if you hadn’t pointed it out.” You said skeptically as you eyed Tony.

“Ha.” Tony forced a laugh. “Well, now you see it. Bye!”

He quickly left the room and hid behind a wall where he could watch his plan unfold.

“That wasn’t at all weird.” You chuckled as you turned in your seat.

“He probably put Red Bull in his protein shake again.” Peter laughed as well, fingers brushing yours a little on the table.

“Yeah.” You nodded, suddenly feeling awkward now that you were both aware of the mistletoe hanging above your heads. You both looked away from each other, red in the face and sneaking occasional glances at the plant.

“I, um, I’ve never actually seen mistletoe in person before.” Peter said to break the silence. “I’ve only heard about it in songs.”

“Me too.” You nodded rapidly. “Or in movies and stuff.”

“Yeah.” Peter gulped. “And stuff.”

You looked at each other for a moment, shy smiles on your faces.

“I mean, since it’s both of our first times getting caught under it, it’d be a shame not to honor the tradition.” You suggested sheepishly as you averted your eyes.

“Right.” Peter said quickly. “It’s tradition. We basically have to.”

“Yeah. It’s practically a right of passage for the holiday season.” You said simply as you leaned closer to Peter.

“Exactly.” Peter agreed, leaning in as well. Your faces were almost touching now, just a few more inches until contact.

“Um.” You let out a nervous laugh before shutting your eyes and leaning in. Peter met you the rest of the way, your lips connecting directly under the mistletoe. You smiled a little into the kiss before pressing your hand to his cheek to keep him in place. Peter pulled away after a minute, gazing fondly in your eyes as he opened them. He’d been waiting to kiss you for the longest time, and it was just as perfect as he imagined.

“Thanks.” Peter said, squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment after he said it.

“You’re welcome.” You laughed at him, squeezing his shoulder in admiration.

“I’m glad we could, erm, fulfill the tradition.” Peter laughed at his own awkwardness as he shook his head.

“Me too.” You nodded with a flushed face. “I feel more in the holiday spirit already.”

“Same, same.” Peter trailed off, looking around the room to distract from the awkwardness.

“Can we just pretend that didn’t happen and eat our breakfast?” You requested, looking at him shyly.

“Please.” Peter agreed. “It never happened.”

Rhodey

Bruce was making his way to the lab when he saw Rhodey hiding behind a wall, staring at hanging mistletoe.

“Why are you standing here?” Bruce whispered as he stood behind Rhodey.

“I told Y/n to meet me in the kitchen and I’m sending her a bunch of texts so she keeps her eyes on her phone. I also told Peter to meet me in the theater. They’ll have to go through that doorway where I strategically placed mistletoe. Once they bump into each other, they’ll have to kiss and I’ll get a point.” Rhodey explained his masterplan in a hushed tone.

“Why do you want them to bump into each other? Can’t they just see each other in the doorway?” Bruce whispered back.

“Man, have you ever seen a romantic comedy?” Rhodey sighed. “The girl has to bump into the boy so he knows she’s clumsy and not like other girls.”

“I think you’re getting a little too invested in this. It’s just a room.” Bruce reminded him, beginning to think he was behind on the contest.

“Its not about the room.” Rhodey insisted. “I just want to beat Rogers and his stupid parlor.”

“Shh.” Bruce hushed him. “Here they come.”

Bruce and Rhodey watched as you and Peter smacked into each other in the doorway.

“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t looking.” Peter said as he caught you from falling.

“That’s okay. I wasn’t looking either.” You smiled at him, staying in his arms.

“How are you gonna get them to notice the mistletoe?” Bruce whispered.

Rhodey silently took out a large fan and switched it on, sending a breeze towards you and Peter. The breeze made the bells on the mistletoe chime, causing you and Peter to look up.

“Is that mistletoe?” He asked as he pointed to it.

“It looks like it.” You commented. “I guess Mr. Stark decorated the tower.”

“Kinda crazy we got caught under it twice.” Peter chuckled nervously, hoping he’d get the chance to kiss you again.

“I know. But hey, it’s tradition.” You shrugged, also hoping you’d get to kiss him.

“Yeah. Tradition.” Peter was barely listening to himself speak as he stared at your lips. You laughed a little as your arms went around his neck, pulling him into a soft kiss. It was just as good as the first time, if not better. You pulled away after a moment and sighed against his mouth.

“I, um, I gotta meet Rhodey in the nitchken.” You stumbled over your words.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to see him in the popcorn palace.” Peter spoke, not even knowing what he was saying.

“I’ll see you later, Petey.” You squeezed his arm gently and made your way to the kitchen.

“Bye.” Peter mumbled before going to the theater. Rhodey turned to Bruce with a boastful grin and held a finger to symbolize the point he has just gotten. Bruce swallowed nervously, realizing he had to get on it if he wanted to win.

Bruce

“Banner.” Tony came to Bruce’s side with a suspicious look. “You look awfully devious today.”

“You’re much more likely to walk next to someone than to be caught under a doorway with them. That’s why I put a bouquet of roses and mistletoe on the table between their rooms. Every time they pass it, they’ll have to kiss.” Bruce explained as he turned to Tony with bloodshot eyes. He had been working on the plan all night and it showed.

“You unsuspecting genius.” Tony gasped.

“How is that unsuspected?” Bruce deadpanned. “I’m a certified genius. That’s why I was recruited.

“Yeah? And I’m a certified freak. 7 days a week.” Tony said as he stared at the bouquet of mistletoe. It didn’t take long for you and Peter to come out of your rooms and meet in front of the bouquet.

“Hey, Petey.” You greeted him. “What are you up to?”

“I was gonna grab a snack and then watch Dance Moms compilations.” Peter told you.

“Without me?” You pretended to be offended.

“I was gonna ask you to join.” Peter rolled his eyes sarcastically.

“I’d love to.” You smiled at him. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, is this mistletoe?” Peter realized the bouquet right as you were about to leave.

“Damn, it’s everywhere, huh?” You laughed as you touched the roses, warmed by the color.

“Do we still have to kiss of its not over our heads?” Peter wondered.

“Yes!” Bruce whispered sharply.

“You heard that too right?” Your eyes widened as you looked around for where the voice came from.

“Yeah. I thought it was my conscience.” Peter sighed in relief. Your eyes flickered from the bouquet to Peter, back to the bouquet.

“I mean, we might as well kiss.” You shrugged. “Mistletoe is still mistletoe.”

“You’re right. It would be a waste not to.” Peter nodded eagerly.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” You smiled as you pulled him into a kiss. This kiss lasted longer than usual as you both let it linger.

“The plan was smart but you only got one kiss out of it.” Tony whispered to Bruce as you and Peter went to the kitchen.

“Just wait.” Bruce told him. Some enough, you and Peter returned with an armful of snacks.

“Oh, we passed it again.” Peter said robotically, knowing you’d pass it again.

“Oops.” You said sarcastically. “I guess we have to kiss again.”

“Ugh. Every time.” Peter rolled his eyes as he pulled you towards his lips. You gripped his shirt collar and continued kissing him as you pulled him into your room.

“See?” Bruce smirked. “Certified genius.”

Down the hall, Natasha had seen the whole thing, chewing her lips as she came up with a plan.

Natasha

Natasha set her plan in motion a few days later, waiting in the kitchen for you as she stirred a bowl of muffin mix. Peter sat at the counter, reading over one of Bruce’s articles in a book. You came into the kitchen wearing an ugly Christmas sweater that matched Peters, the sight of you making Peter smile.

“Hi Nat.” You beamed at her as you took a seat next to Peter at the kitchen counter. “Whatcha making?”

“I’m making muffins with the berries from mistletoe.” Nat said cheerfully. “They should be really good.”

“You bake?” You asked curiously. “You mean they taught you culinary skills when training you to be an assassin?”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. For example, I love ballet. We might even be getting a ballet studio in the tower soon.” She said coyly, making you and Peter exchange a suspicious glance.

“Wow. That’ll be really cool.” Peter played along, skeptically of her intentions.

“Right? Does this look okay to you guys?” Nat asked as she held the mistletoe above your head. “I can’t tell it it’s good to use or not.”

“It looks fine to me.” Peter shrugged as he looked up at it.

“Oh, silly me.” Nat clicked her tongue. “You guys are totally under it. I guess you’ll have to kiss.”

You and Peter exchanged another look before pecking each other on the lips.

“Hmm. I still can’t tell. Can you check again?” Nat asked as she held it up again.

“It still looks fine.” You told her, growing suspicious.

“And you still have to kiss.” She sighed like it was an inconvenience. You narrowed your eyes at her before kissing Peter on the cheek.

“Are you guys sure it’s okay? One more time, please.” Nat held it over your heads a final time. Peter looked at you skeptically before leaning in for a kiss. Both of you were well aware of the sneaky smile on Natashas face.

“Wait, let me see if I can find another one.” Natasha took another bunch of mistletoe out of her grocery bag and pretended to inspect it. She made a whole show of it, making it look like she simply couldn’t find out if it was okay to use. She sighed sadly and looked to you guys for help before holding it up. You and Peter laughed in disbelief before kissing on the lips.

“Wow. Did I accidentally make you guys kiss 4 times?” Nat spoke loudly, as id she was letting all the people in the tower know. “That’s a lot. Looks like we’ll be getting that ballet studio after all.”

“Yeah. That is a lot.” Thor appeared in the doorway upon hearing Natashas declaration. He eyed you and Peter with a ponderous look on his face, becoming aware that he was losing the competition.

“Oops. I just remembered that mistletoe is poisonous.” Nat finished her bit. “Guess I won’t be making these! Bye guys!”

She swiftly left the room, leaving the mistletoe on the counter. You and Peter looked at each other, equally confused about what was happening. Thor walked further into the kitchen and pretended to take interest in the mistletoe. He held it up over his head before holding it over you and Peter.

“Are you two sure this mistletoe is good for use?” He asked, stealing Nat’s idea.

“We’re not kissing for you.” Peter told him flatly.

“I never liked you anyway.” Thor stated as he dropped the mistletoe and left the kitchen. He wandered the tower until he found Pepper reading in the living room.

“Pans. I have some bad news.” Thor sighed as he laid on the couch like he was in a therapists office. “The competition your husband started is rigged.”

“Why do you say that?” Pepper wondered.

“Because I’m losing!” Thor whined. “Gods do not lose to humans. Unless it’s a contest for tiny people.”

“How many kisses have you gotten?” Pepper asked, well aware of the contest.

“0 so far.” He sighed. “Everyone else has four or five. Banner has seven!”

“So you just have to come up with a plan that blows everyone else out of the water.” Pepper shrugged.

“Like what?”

“Everyone else has gotten them to kiss, right?” Pepper asked.

“Yes.” Thor nodded.

“You can get them to date.” Pepper said like it was simple.

“Why, that’s brilliant! Thank you, Pans!” Thor cheered as he got off the couch. “You have done me well.”

“You’re welcome.” Pepper chuckled as she flipped the page.

“Wait, your husband is also in this competition.” Thor realized. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because when Tony wins something, he gets way too cocky and thinks he’s above doing any laundry or cleaning.” Pepper explained. “Someone else has to win or he’ll buy Mexico or something.”

“Thank you, lady Pans.” Thor grinned. “I will not disappoint.”

Thor

“May I come in? I’m just kidding. I am coming in regardless of your answer.” Thor chuckled as he barged into your room. You and Peter had been sitting on the bed, jumping from fear as he came in.

“Hi, Thor.” You said skeptically as Thor pulled up a chair. “Can we help you with something?”

“For the past few weeks, the Avengers have been holding a stupid contest that I am losing to see who can get you two to kiss the most.” Thor explained. “They have been using mistletoe to carry out this stupid contest.”

“Wait, what?” You and Peter looked at each other in shock. Suddenly, the strange behavior and random mistletoe sightings all made sense.

“That’s why there’s mistletoe everywhere?” You asked. “And why did you guys do this in the first place? Why us?”

“Because you two like each other.” Thor shrugged. “And everyone knows it. Except for you two. You don’t know it.”

“What?” Peter sputtered. “We do not-“

“Shh.” Thor hushed him. “Don’t talk to me. Talk to each other. You’re welcome.”

Thor smiled kindly before getting out of his chair and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

“I can’t believe they did this.” Peter groaned. “Forcing us to kiss because they think we like each other? Who comes up with that?”

“I know right?” You agreed. “How we feel about each other is none of their business.”

“Exactly. And what do they know? If I liked you, I think I would know.” Peter forced a laugh, well aware that he liked you.

“Yeah. We would know.” You nodded before looking at him skeptically. “We would know, right?”

“I don’t know.” Peter answered honestly. “It’s kinda hard to tell how I feel about you. I never know if something that happens between us is platonic or romantic.”

“Me either.” You spoke softly as you put your hand on his. “Kissing isn’t really platonic, though.”

“I guess not.” Peter chuckled as he looked at you. You stared at him for a moment, heart beating in your ears as you thought out your next step.

“Peter, do you like me?” You asked slowly, looking at him through your eyelashes.

“Um, kinda, yeah.”

“Kinda?” You laughed softly at his answer.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed and squeezed your hand. “I don’t know what to say in this situation.”

“Just tell me how you feel.” You shrugged.

“I feel like I’ve been lingering around places where the mistletoe in hopes that you’ll walk by and kiss me.” Peter confessed, looking at you with a shy smile.

“Well that’s not platonic.” You teased him, leaning into him a little.

“No, it’s not.” Peter agreed. Your eyes flicked to his lips briefly before leaning in to kiss him, pulling his face closer to yours with the hand that wasn’t holding his. He kissed you back once he got over the surprise, sitting up straighter to get closer to you.

“You don’t need mistletoe to kiss me, Petey.” You whispered once you pulled away. “You can do it whenever you want.”

“I’m gonna take you up on that.” Peter smiled softly at you.

“I hope you do.” You flirted before connecting your lips to his again. On the other side of the door, Thor had his ear pressed up against the crack, listening to every word with a huge grin.

“I am so going to win this contest.”

Tag List 🏷

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[cooloddball]

JIB9 (JIBCON, 2018) ANYALYSIS-PART 1

I never know how to begin these things so let’s just dive in.

Jensen and Misha enter the stage as Alex is leaving. Jensen commends Alex and Misha whistles and Jensen says don’t hurt my ears or something. And so it begin. Misha says he regretted it [whistling] immediately.

 I’m hard of hearing you know why because I whistled. This joke didn’t land Misha. Sorry.

Jensen says “Hey” like he wants to say something to the audience but Misha does this weird thing where he runs his index finger down his nose and touches his chin.

I think this was Misha trying to communicate his disappointment that Jensen didn’t get the joke. He wanted him to get the joke. Misha e tries to find his seat so he could sit but Jensen catches on that Misha needs him so he says, “Hey what? I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.” Aww :)

Misha leans his ear closer to Jensen and says, and Jensen leans even closer and they have this back and forth banter about not hearing what the other is saying.

To mention something personal, I am usually very uncomfortable when people lean into me, I like my personal space unless it’s someone I’m really close to and even then not always will be with them getting up close and personal.. They seem okay with it so good for them I guess. Personal space who?

“I don’t understand your accent” Misha says. I don’t know if this is an inside joke because Jensen says “shut up,” playfully and they sit down.

Jensen applauds Alex and Misha whistles again and Jensen has to look away faux disappointed because they just talked about whistling. Misha!!! Stop being naughty.

Jensen even rubs his ears to show that he can’t hear properly. LOL.

That’s like super loud dude.

 I actually find it really weird when Misha and Jensen call each other dude. It sounds unnatural because Jensen often calls other men-pal, bud, or man and Misha usually uses people’s names or says my friend so and so. So maybe this is what they call each other? I know when I talk to my bf or my friends I call them dude (gn) especially when I’m shocked about something. So, it’s not a biggie. Just noting this because they do this a lot with each other.

Misha does this super cute shoulder shrug with the biggest grin on his face. How can a grown ass man be that adorable. I don’t know how he does it but well he did it and it’s adorable. No wonder Jensen wants to put him in his pocket and take him home.

“I’m compensating.” And he looks at Jensen with this shit eating grin on his face as if challenging him and it’s like Jensen looks like he can’t breathe for a second it was literally three seconds.

 “[compensating] For a lot of things that’s wow.” Jensen says. Misha keeps grinning. Of course Jensen would know what Misha is compensating for wouldn’t he?

 Should we talk about Alex?” Jensen asks looking at Misha.

Loudly “Yeah.”

“No I don’t think so.”

What did you ask how was the pantheon? 

Jesus I love their madness. They play off each other so well.

They say they are working on teaching alex to talk about inappropriate things.  Side note: It’s funny though because Alex looks like their love child. He looks like Misha, and to some extent Jensen, his hair, sense of style and even the way he carries himself is all Jensen. So weird. What if –What if---nvm.

Jensen mentions he remembers his first season of spn. Misha looks at Jensen and says no you don’t [remember] and Jensen agrees that he doesn’t. Yes finish each other’s sentences why don’t you? He says he doesn’t remember that far back and Misha has this far away look as if he is trying to remember something and starts laughing and Jensen has this smirk on his face. IDK what is going on but these are moments I wish I could read minds.

The way Jensen is looking at Misha though.

So Misha mentions how Jared pranked Alex during the tattoo scene of s13x02. The moment Misha mentions Jared, Jensen stops smiling.

Knowing what we know now about the fallout I want to mention something. When Misha talks about Jared and his prank on Alex Jensen doesn’t seem too enthusiastic about that. Hmm and he circles back to talk about Alex then he calls Jared a toddler? But Misha makes it sound like Jensen was referring to Alex by saying easy prey . 

Misha shows the face Alex makes when they are on set together because of the pranks and the jokes.

Jensen adds, “Do you know how many times I’ve seen you do that?”+  Jensen is so excited. I mean anyone who says this is PR then they are crazy. You can’t fake emotions like that no matter how good of an actor you are.

‘The way Jensen calls Misha ‘this one’ It sounds so couply. Like when one half of a couple says, “this one is always a crying mess when we watch the notebook” or something akin to that. Any that’s just how I interpreted it, I could be wrong.

And this is how Misha is looking at Jensen when he says “this one”

That moment when Misha touches the back of Jensen’s neck and Jensen touches his thigh and they think it’s too gay because because Jensen acts like he just touched dirt and Misha brushes off his thigh and smells it. Now that’s acting.

Jensen checks Misha out (he specifically looks at Misha’s arms) and then asks “how’re you doing bud?”

Misha says good and that cringe moment about clothes sharing starts and oh I can’t look…okay I had to look  because cringe. But the way Jensen is looking at Misha is giving me the courage to and also I had to for the sake of this analysis I had to look.

“This morning Jensen was like, ‘hey, here’s that shirt you wanna borrow that shirt to wear to the convention today and I was like ‘no dude I’m not wearing your shirt to the convention to the convention’ and he’s [Jensen] like don’t worry it still has tags on it it’s fine. And I’m like no thanks , I’m not gonna wear your fucking shirt to the convention. And then at lunch I spilled salad dressing all over my shirt like sweet so thanks for the shirt.”

The whole time Misha is telling the story he’s not looking at Jensen he’s looking at the crowd. Jensen on the other hand is checking Misha out while biting his bottom lip. There’s a lot to unpack here.

Jensen:  ‘I knew. Umm..”

Misha:  “You are like Misha didn’t bring his bib today so…”

Jensen:  “He didn’t bring his bib? We are probably having you know some pretty----no I was literally have a shirt that I brought that…cause I try to wear something new for every time there are pictures being taken of me just cause that’s the culture we live in now…”

Interrupting moose enters.

*I will do a comprehensive analysis on the clothes sharing confessions, lies and half truths in another post. Boy (gn) do I have tea.”

I think when Jared is giving Jensen the balloons Jensen asks him if Daniela or someone else sent him to join them but I think he came of his own volition.

Jared is asking Jensen to untie a balloon for him but Jensen doesn’t look too thrilled

Misha must’ve noticed the tension between those two so he asks, “how good a knot did you tie?” 

Jensen’s like, “You know what? I tie a knot that a professional knows how to tie.” Okay kinky, tell us more about knots Jensen. (Sorry for this but knowing the A/B/O or rather the Omegaverse was started because of Jensen and now he’s  talking about tying a knot and…you know what nvm)

Misha pretends that what Jensen is saying is sus so he and Jared have a back and forth wondering what Jensen is talking about as Jensen unties the balloons. Yeah sure Misha like he hasn’t tied …you know what? This is getting uncomfortable even for me. Can we move on?

But Jensen won’t let me move on because he’s like, “seriously that’s how you tie a knot.” Of course you’d know sir

Jared adds, “Or it’s not” can someone shut this man up, please.

Jensen doesn’t like his friend’s joke and he has something to say about it,  “Did he have to join us?” Was this a joke? Was it serious? Who knows but recent events seem to suggest that he might’ve been serious but made it look like a joke.

Jared asks for one balloon and Misha tries to reach for one but Jensen keeps pulling them away so Misha can’t reach. This is so playful and adorable. Misha snags one finally then gives it to Jared. One flies away and he tries to reach for it but he’s not tall enough. 

“Do you want some help?”  Jared asks and laughs then Misha gives him the finger. 

Jensen gets grumpy after Daniela brings Misha a colourless balloon so he hits it with his microphone then he hits his and  sits on it and pops it. Fuck that was hot for some weird reason. I could watch him pop balloons all day.

Misha and Jared’s reaction when Jensen sits on the balloon.

Misha tries Miserably to pop his, Jared can’t look, Jensen is still grumpy but the more Misha struggles the happier Jensen gets and he even manages a smile.

This was hilarious though. Their face journeys.

Jared brings a watermelon and gives it to Misha but Jensen slaps it out of his hands and shows he doesn’t want him to do it from the way he’s waving his hand.

The only thing Jensen wants Misha to wrap his legs around is his waist, or his neck or shoulders or whatever. I don’t know which method of wrestling they prefer, I’m not a professional wrestler I mean I’ve watched WWE a few times but-

Jensen seems happy, I don’t know what Misha says to him before he sits but Jensen seems okay until…

Jared hands Misha the pink balloon holder and says, “You gonna want this for later,” 

Misha doesn’t look too happy about it either but he’s always a good sport. Poor guy, so he plays a long and looks at the holder which interestingly is pink and phallic. I know Jared was joking and yeah the joke wasn’t that funny but Jensen is super pissed because he asks, “Is he?” looking at the balloon holder.

Jesus Jensen wtf? But I honestly understand him, I mean why would Misha need that weird cheap plastic thing when there was the real thing waiting someone in a pair of Levis.

Jensen says, “well… some parts of this”  I can’t quite make out what he says.

Misha tries to make it a light moment by saying it looks like something horrible happened and that gets Jensen to laugh and then Misha bends over to uh..to drop the melon and the phallic object and Jensen’s eyes shoot right down the citrusy-juicy stone fruit goodness. He catches himself looks away and then looks at the crowd while chewing on his bottom lip.

Okay sexual jokes are fun but not every time Jared. I mean c’mon, not everything is a gay sex joke. This is the one thing that sells him out as a straight dude. He makes way too many gay sex jokes it’s not even funny.

They have this weird back and forth about Jared having some notes. Argh. It’s weird. It’s like they are fighting. You see how girls fight and act like like they aren’t fighting but you can sense the seething anger in the undertones of their voices? That’s the vibe I get here. Even Misha is confused because he keeps looking between the two wondering why notes are so important of a discussion that warrants a back and forth. Or maybe it’s just me. IDK.

Misha has to jump in and save the day “He’s [Jared] is just looking through for pictures] Misha explaining to Jensen why Jared has to read the script forty times while Jensen only reads it once.  WTF is going on boys? You were doing so well before and now things seem totally awkward *cough*fallout*cough*

Jensen looks totally done like he wants to be anywhere but here, seriously look at him.

It gets so awkward so much so that Misha has to prompt a fan to ask a question. As I said earlier, no one is such a great actor to fake emotions. Jensen keeps proving my theory. Something was going on with j/2 that day and no matter how hard they tried to mask it, it came out and it wasn’t pretty. Then again, maybe it’s just me and nothing was going on.

A fan asks how they like stories to end and  before he can answer, Misha quickly glances at Jensen then goes ahead and explains how he likes the story to leave him on a cliffhanger.

Misha has barely finished talking before Jensen chimes in with a “I Do NOT!” Look at Jared’s and Misha’s faces. Something was clearly going on and I think it had something to do with the show because Jensen didn’t seem okay since Jared came on stage. He says how he wants a finality to things otherwise jerks. They were clearly talking about the show, Jensen, for a good actor you are acting really weird. It is about the show because he says, “we are just dead”  Something very weird was going on. Maybe at this time they already had had their meeting with TPTB in LA and he was told to take it or leave it and Jared and Kripke didn’t even hear him out. My poor baby, Do all the spin offs King and you should star in all of them like you deserve.

He even says that spn dying is not a finality. He looks super pissed. What did these people (Jared and tptb) do to him? They broke him. He was doing so well.

Luckily a fan asks them if they can dance so Jensen goes to the wheel and Misha gets up. I think he knows Jensen is angry and he has to try to make his man happy the best way he can. Jared is suffering from second hand embarrassment as am I. Jared can’t look, same Jared this is so cringe. But Jensen can’t help himself, as he is coming back from spinning the wheel he checks out Misha’s citrusy-juicy goodness again 🍑

Misha please stop. I love you but this is embarrassing. Okay so let me look at Jensen instead. He looks like those gentlemen waiting for the debutantes at a debutante ball because of the way he’s standing looking at Misha dance. Subtle sir. Very subtle. I mean if my friend was dancing like that I’d be laughing at them not watching longingly. Just saying, but that’s just me.

The way Misha looks at Jensen and starts rolling his hips. Sirs, can you not do your mating dance in public? There are children in the audience. 

Even the way Jensen cues in the music so he can dance looks like he’s in the Victorian era asking the music master to play the song he asked to be cued in so he could dance with his sweetheart or something. Am I going crazy? I’m going crazy.

The whole dancing scene was just cringe.

Mish explaining what Castiel does when the boys go to sleep 

Hold on, when Jensen asks what Castiel does when the Sam and Dean are asleep in their respective bedrooms, he made sure to emphasize respective bedrooms and we all know the reason why. Stay speaking facts king.

Anyway, when he asks Misha to demonstrate for us what Cas does, did he expect that Cas stands there peeping into Dean’s room and wanks or what did he expect? Honestly I’m just curious, what did he want Misha to demonstrate exactly.

Then he gets up to demonstrate it himself . 

When Misha says that the episode will be called ‘I’ll just wait here ten” Jensen unicorn laughs and when he realizes he was laughing to hard at Misha’s joke he says, ”I don’t get it.” Yeah sure Jensen it was clear from how hard you laughing to the point where we could see your tonsils that you didn’t get it. Good one. Misha maintains a serious face and even shakes his head.

A fan asks Misha what Castiel would have in his room. Misha says just a bunch of catnip. I don’t know what is so funny again that it warrants Jensen to hide his face because he’s trying not to laugh too hard. Does the word catnip or Cas being a cat mean something to you? Is it because Misha is cute like a kitten? Do love to rub his tum and hear him purr? Does he rub his nose along your beard like a cat would? What is so funny?

Then Jensen adds, “and kitty litter.” So adorable. I want in on the inside joke.

Misha says that he would have a poster of a cat hanging from a tree that says, “Hey it’s Monday” and Jensen laughs so hard. Then Jensen makes sure to add, “he has that poster in his trailer.” How do you know?

Why are these two dorks so happy about the mention of AU Cas? 

Then the way Jensen is excited about asking Misha for a demonstration of AU Cas 

 WTF am I watching? Help. But the eye fuck and the way the laugh.

Look how hard Jensen is laughing when Misha says what went through his head is that “they met at a club.” Pray for Jensen. He needs help. Serious help because no one is ever that funny all the time Jensen.

You can see how Jensen’s mood changed after Jared said that is the best acting he has ever seen Misha do. Jared seriously read the room. That part of the video has been discussed before so I won’t get into that.

The way Jensen’s eyes widen when Jared says Misha really wants to answer the who is your rock question. It is subtle but it happens. He also raises his eyebrows  as if to say “really? leave my husband alone.”

Okay did Jared expect Misha to say Jensen was his rock or??

Jensen is acting weird through Misha’s answer. He’s mostly stoic, like he’s holding his breath? Can I also mention how handsome Misha looks? But I like Misha’s answer and it’s so beautiful that he married his best friend. Everyone who wants to get married should marry their best friend. What do I know though? Marriage is a foreign concept to me.

Jensen asks how many mothers there are in the audience.

Jared carries on with “how many of us have mothers?

Misha: That’s quite an impressive turn out. So many people didn’t raise their hands.

“They are like no I was genetically engineered in a lab.” Okay hear me out. Jensen knows what you know who believe that  his kids and Jared’s kids were made in a lab because they couldn’t stand to copulate with their wives because of how much they hate them because Jared is his on true love. If you didn’t know this I’m sorry to divulge this disgusting piece of information to you but you can’t unsee it now so you are welcome. I swear I think this was a jab at them, no one can convince me otherwise.

Even Jared and Misha’s reaction to that is pretty telling. Then Jensen adds “And some of you probably were” I think he means those soulless fans who send their wives and kids threats and also hate on Misha every chance they get. Go off king.

He talks about how his wife is also his rock aww Jensen

Remember how Jensen was being weird during Misha’s answer? Misha is being weird as well, mostly stoic and looking at a fixed spot on the ground. I want to know what was so interesting.

Oh that micro expression from Jared, his right eye widens the moment Jensen says “I have some amazing pebbles in my life.” Did he think Jensen was going to out himself? He was like oh shit oh sit it’s happening.

The glee on Misha’s face when when Jensen calls him a pebble aww Jensen.

I know what I’m about to say is controversial but I think that by pebbles Jensen meant Misha. It doesn’t make sense that he was comparing his wife and his friends. The only person he would relate his wife to is his husband. I know this sounds crazy and people will definitely not be happy about this but that’s my opinion.I I know he loves Jared and he is his bro for life  so if he was referring to them both wouldn’t he have pointed to them both?

Jared talks about how sometimes he doesn’t want to burden the people he really loves with what’s on his mind all the time and Jensen points to himself in a very aggressive way. Jesus Jensen way to be subtle. Fuck. Also Jensen nods vigorously when Jared says look for your pebbles because sometimes pebbles are what you need to get back to your rock.

It’s time to sing a hbd song and when Misha asks Jared “did you volunteer for this?” That’s when Jensen places his hand on Misha’s knee and says “I got it” He’s like, babe seriously? You are gonna ask Jared to sing when you know I got the voice for it? Seriously? I’m right here babe. I sing to you every night and you gonna do me like this? I got this and you are mine.

He caresses that leg and gets very comfortable on it, draping his arm from the elbow down on it. Possessive much? It’s clearly not the first time he has parched on that leg. The hand was on that leg for 1 minute and 15 seconds. Yes, I counted.

The intimate way in which Jensen and Misha they are seated is so awkward that Jared scoots away from them.

 Damn, son. Jensen’s vocals are out of this world. So good.

Jesus Jared “Deeper, deeper feel it” Is that what they were screaming through the hotel walls last night? Tell us more.

Misha is so uncomfortable and Jensen is so done.

So overall this part was basically cockles being cockles, Jensen being possessive of Misha, Jared being Jared, Jensen being done, the girls are fighting and Misha is the referee. 

That’s the end of part 1.

Part 2

[xmalfoyweasleyx]

I hate that girl - F.W

Summary: Fred doesn’t really know how to cope. He hates y/n and everyone loves her. But is the feeling truly hate, or something else?

Warnings: Mean Fred, eating, semi-smut it's just oral: male receiving, a little hair pulling and stuff like that :)

A/N: Maybe I'm going to write a PART 2, with the rest of the smut? Idk? What do you guys think? x

Words: 2,1k

It was summer, finally, my favourite season. I sat at the table with my family at the Burrow, enjoying my moms dinner.

“So, y/n is coming tomorrow mom, you remember?” Ron asked while trying to put a big piece of meat in his mouth.

“Of course I remember dear!” Molly smiled.

“Pfffttt ohno” I sighed, making the whole dinner table glare at me.

“Don’t be mean Fred, I really don’t know what’s wrong with you” Ginny said angrily.

What was wrong with me? That girl was wrong.

I hated how my whole family fell for her trap. Like she’s so innocent. They all believed her act. But I knew the truth, I hated the girl. She wasn’t sweet and shy and helpful. I just knew it. She couldn’t be. I didn’t believe it.

I never liked the girl. She visits us every year, being very good friends with... yea, almost every person here.

She was a liar, I saw it in her eyes. The girl was always like: “Molly can I help with the dishes” or “Hey George, I looooveee the new joke product” with her silly sweet voice.

No I didn’t fall for that. She didn’t even say those things to me any more, I've already scared her away. Well, great. That’s great.

“I really don’t understand why you hate her that much Freddie” George sighed when we were back in our bedroom.

"Well and I don't understand why you like her that much Georgie, are you in love with her or something?" I accused him.

"It seems like you are the one in love with her, silly brother" he answered laughing.

What the hell??

"WHAT? For God's sake! Why would you even think that?!" I screamed defensively. George only laughed.

"I give up" he smiled. Leaving me extremely irritated.

Me in love with y/n, like I said, I hate that girl.

*

I almost threw up seeing the girl acting like that.

We were all welcoming her in the living room. She hugged Ginny, then my mum and Ron and... you know how it goes.

Then she hugged George giving him a kiss on the cheek. Urgh disgusting. It was my turn. It was clear she didn't really know what to do. It was pretty awkward.

"Fred" she nodded staring at me full of doubt. She gave me a sad look and I almost fell for it.

I knew my sister was looking at me with eyes full of anger without even looking her way. I couldn't take it any more and just left without saying a word.

"I'm sorry about him" I heard George saying to her. "It's okay" she answered softly.

*

It was quiet at the burrow, everyone was already asleep. I've always been the only person in this house that stays up this late.

I was getting tired so I decided to get ready for bed. Even George had ignored me all evening, I don't get it, why are they this mad? I mean, okay, I wasn't very nice to y/n. But I can do what I want and I can dislike who I want, what do they have to do with it?

So I opened the bathroom door and before I could process what happened, my face was already bright red. Y/n was changing, her, apparently pretty, chest was bare in front of me.

The first thing I did was slap my hand to my face, trying to close my eyes and hide the redness. What the actual fuck, did I just see the girl naked?

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE THIS LATE" I screamed.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I should've locked the door, I'm sorry" she answered embarrassed.

Okay how could I ever get this image out of my fucking head?! Yes, she did have an impressive body, and...but... BUT NO FRED, NO.

"Stop apologizing all the time, for god's sake, it makes me crazy" I hissed angrily.

She didn't really answer and she ran past me, I didn't even see the look on her face. Maybe that was a good thing, because I knew I may have been a bit too mean this time...

*

"Fuck Fred, keep going" y/n moaned, she looked like a mess and her perfect boobs bounced up and down when she rode me. It was the hottest and the best thing I've ever felt. Moans and grunts left my mouth. "Fuck I'm cumming baby" I grunted.

Suddenly a loud knock on my bedroom door woke me up. Y/n wasn't there any more.

Shit, was this a dream, an actual sex dream? About her?

"FRED WAKE UP IT'S ALREADY 1 PM, WE'RE GOING TO SWIM!" I heard my little sister scream at the door.

I freaked out immediately. I could never face y/n again after this, why did it happen? Why is my brain like this? And then I had a little problem down there too, I had an obvious boner.

"I'm coming Gin wait a minute" I answered nervously.

An hour later, I finally reached the lake that was a mile away from the burrow. The others were already there.

Great, swimming.

The dream was still spinning around in my head. I was so confused and like it couldn't get any worse, they decided to swim. Why today?

This was the worst moment ever to see y/n in her bikini. I saw her from a distance. God she looked hot. Her perfect boobs in the red bikini top, and damn it, that ass...

Bloody hell, STOP IT FRED, I just got rid of my boner, I don't need it to come back again.

"There you are Freddie, finally!" George smiled when he saw me. Damn it.

Y/n looked up too, still smiling at me even though all the mean things I said or did to her. Her hair was in a perfect bun and I could see her red bikini better now. I never really realized how sexy and good she looks until now, until the moment I walked in on her changing this night. Or maybe that was the problem, maybe I always knew, but shut it out?

But what if this was her trap again? The trap everyone fell for except me. I couldn't allow myself to fall for it, I promised myself!

I walked up to them and tried to get out of my confusing thoughts. "I'm sorry I didn't realize I slept for so long" I answered trying to sound okay.

"Guess it's because you were still up pretty late" y/n joked. Her pretty smile appeared and out of nowhere my legs were weak, like jelly.

"Fuck y/n SHUT UP, SHUT THE HELL UP" I snapped out of nowhere. My face went red and the others looked at me in shock.

It was quiet, y/n gaped at me, speechless.

"I.. I-" I tried to apologize when I saw y/n her hurt eyes, but nothing came out. My heart broke when a tear fell down her cheek. Maybe I was wrong about her.

I was the bad person in this story, not her.

She ran away and I heard her sobbing behind me.

It wasn't a trap, she never acted like she was an innocent sweet girl, she really was an innocent sweet girl. It wasn't her trap, it was my own trap, a trap I made up in my own head.

*

I heard sobs coming from her room. I stood behind the door. I promised my siblings I would apologize, because it was true, maybe I was wrong about her.

I opened the door slowly.

"Fred, please go away, you don't have to act like you're sorry because I'm crying. I know you hate me." she sobbed when she saw me.

“N-no, I, I don’t know what’s wrong with me” I stuttered.

She looked confused. Her red eyes really broke my heart. It was my fault.

I sat next to her on the floor and put my hand on her leg. She seemed shocked.

“Why do you hate me?” she whispered.

I sighed. Not really knowing what to answer.

“I don’t hate you, I just had the wrong idea about you y/n, I’m stupid.” I answered.

It was weird, she was still in her bikini and this was so not the right moment, but I felt that bulge in my swimming trunks appear again. I guess it’s because of the dream that was still so damn clear in my head. And of course, the fact that my hand was stroking down her bare leg.

Before I could cover it up, her eyes were already on it. Fuck.

We both didn’t utter a word. It was silent.

“You have a problem down there” she whispered, breaking the silence.

I gulped, trying to not get red.

“Is that why you hate me? You just want to fuck me?” she grinned extremely bold.

I wasn’t really used to being this speechless. But she was right. So, so right. So I just nodded.

Suddenly she was on my lap. My breath hitched in my throat. Her, so perfect, boobs now pressed to my bare chest.

“You make me crazy, I can’t even explain how crazy y/n” I finally said.

Her hands were now stroking my hair. Shit. My tummy tingled. Was George right, am I in love with her?

“So you just decide to be mean Freddie? Ignore me? Hurt me? Why?” she squeaked, searching for a rightful explanation.

“I... I’m sorry, I don’t know what I feel. I’m so confused but I know I was wrong about you now. I’m sorry for hurting you.” I apologized.

“It’s okay Freddie, I understand, we have enough time to find out how we feel” she promised me while lightly stroking my cheek with her small fingers.

A wave of electricity went from my feet to my head. So is this what being in love feels like? I wasn’t sure, maybe it was something else. I’ve never experienced this before. But one thing was sure: my pants got too tight now.

And that’s when I felt her move slowly. She moved the (oh so thin) fabric of her red bikini against my clothed cock. I could feel everything that was underneath and a shock of pleasure went through my whole body.

She kept grinding down on me, a soft whimper left her mouth and a grunt left mine.

I slammed my lips on hers. They moved perfectly in synchrony. They were soft and sweet. It was perfect.

I’ve kissed before, a lot. But this. This was different. The passion was overwhelming.

Her tongue explored my mouth while I helped her hips grind up and down.

She stopped the kiss and her beautiful y/e/c eyes locked with mine. In an instant, she was already on her knees in front of me, pulling down my swimming trunks.

"Can I?" she asked politely. I nodded eagerly.

She kissed my tip gently making me gasp a little. Her beautiful, soft hands stroked down my thigh.

"I'm pretty sure you're finally gonna stop hating me after this" she promised.

"You already succeeded princess" I praised, making her eyes go wider because of the nickname.

She started to kitten lick my tip slowly and my hands were already in her hair, making a ponytail with my hand.

She took my whole cock in her mouth, all at once. A grunt escaped my lips when I felt my tip hit the back of her throat.

"God y/n where did you learn this" I moaned huskily.

A smirk appeared when she started to bob up and down. I tried to control myself but I couldn't resist from pulling on her hair a little, guiding her head up and down. It was clearly something she liked because a moan left her mouth. The oh so sexy sound and vibrations made me grunt loudly. "Fuck baby" I moaned

I tried to hold it in but my hips started to pound a little into her mouth, making her gag on my cock.

"I'm gonna cum" I stuttered. One second later her mouth was already gone. I whined with a frown.

"Now already Freddie?" she smirked.

"Please don't stop, your mouth is amazing y/n" I asked trying to not sound too desperate.

She didn't answer but put her lips back, taking my cock in her mouth again. Now she started to suck fast and harder, making me go completely crazy.

She was so beautiful and so so so sexy. I couldn't hold in any longer. My head fell back and my eyes scrunched shut, a loud moan slipped from my lips when I came. I've never felt this amazing before. It was perfect. Y/n stuck her tongue out, showing me she swallowed all of my cum.

"Good girl" I praised huskily.

"Did it feel good?" she asked. She looked a little insecure now.

I grabbed her hips and placed her on my lap again.

"So good, I think I might be in love with you, and not just because of this moment, but for so many reasons y/n" I admitted.

"You.. you do?" she whispered getting red and shy. But the little smile on her lips said enough

_____

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Adventures at Sunset

So, this wasn’t a request at all. I’m just, really trying my best to get SOME kind of writing done and the past few days I’ve been thinking of Tamaki a lot and yeah...so, please let me know what you think? It’s been like, five fucking months since I last wrote smut.

Soooo, yeah, let me know what you think and enjoy the merman Tamaki!

Also, maybe click the navigation...send in some reqs? Dragon au has my interest currently but, anything is welcome.

Navigation 

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

.

 “Hey, Tamaki…”

 .

 Tamaki hummed faintly in curiosity from beside you as you stared up at the night sky, cold ocean water lapping gently at your skin while you floated peacefully beside your closest friend. It still felt unreal to you, how you had befriended a merman; such a shy and awkward one as well. However, you had known him for nearly an entire year at this point, such novelties should have worn off by now.

 “You’re being really quiet tonight” You frowned slightly at your own words, moving so that you were in front of the now fidgeting octopus merman; watching as his cheeks took on the loveliest shade of cherry red. Though why he was so embarrassed seemed to escape your notice.

 “I don’t think I’m being that quiet” You raised an eyebrow in response to his soft mumble, swimming around him until you were able to embrace him from behind; taking your perch on his back while he stuttered beneath you, turning his head to look at you as if it would help him figure out why you were currently climbing him like he was your very own playground.

 “You reckon? I’ve heard rocks say more than you have in the past few hours…we’ve been floating in silence since sunset and it’s starting to get boring!” You pouted, shuddering when two of his tentacles moved to wrap around your arms; keeping you steady on top of him. Yet another thing that you weren’t used to, his tentacles.

 They could move like they were arms; they were strong as well, but having them against your bare skin was something else entirely. You weren’t sure if you enjoyed it, or if it simply freaked you out, so for the majority of the time; you avoided having them against your skin, always doing your best not to offend the anxious octopus.

 “Sorry, I was just thinking” Tamaki looked away from you as you spoke, prompting you to rest your chin against his shoulder; trying your best to get a good look at his face. You weren’t the best at reading people’s emotions, but you were always willing to give it a go.

 “About?” You reached up as you questioned his silencing thoughts, poking your finger against the surprisingly warm skin of his cheek; squishing it until he let out a quiet grumble of protest.

 “I’m not gonna be able to see you for a while” He frowned down at the water’s surface while you blinked in surprise, leaning over his shoulder to get a look at his expression; curiosity already eating away at you. You loved your nightly swims with the awkward octopus beneath you, if they had to stop then you wanted to know why and for how long.

 “You can’t come here anymore, okay? Not til Summer…” Tamaki continued speaking, lifting his head to look at you before a startled noise escaped him at the close proximity between your faces; his lips having brushed against your own with the heartbreaking information.

 “But…Tamaki…” He shook his head, his tentacles wrapping around your body and removing you from his back. Instead, depositing you in the water in front of him while he tried his best to avoid your inquisitive gaze.

 “No buts, don’t come here until Summer. Okay?” He managed to glance at your face as he spoke, watching you for the briefest of seconds before suddenly, he was gone. The only sign that he had been there in the first place was the ocean’s surface bubbling from the movement of his lightning-fast escape; leaving you swimming there alone. Confused as to why you couldn’t see your friend for such a long time and frustrated at the lack of explanation.

 .

 ~  ~  ~

 .

 You groaned out softly, reaching up to rub your head as you tried to sit up into a more comfortable position; a dull ache already settling in the back of your head while you attempted to figure out what had happened to you. The last thing that you could remember, was that you had gone to the beach at sunset, looking for your favourite octopus.

 Technically, he had told you not to show up during Spring, but it was only two weeks into the season when you had decided you couldn’t go that long without Tamaki’s company.

 “You’re awake…!” You blinked in surprise, looking towards the worried-looking merman that sat in the shallow part of the water; a few of his tentacles spread out over the damp rocks that littered the ground. Apparently, the two of you were beneath the large jetty that was located near your meeting spot. It made sense to you, given that it was so dark beneath the structure that any passer-by wouldn’t be able to see the two of you; it was as if you didn’t exist to the rest of the world.

 “I…yeah, I guess so. What happened?” Tamaki grimaced at your question, looking away from you while you moved to crawl towards him, the sand crumbling beneath your weight as you did so; causing you to partially sink down, too wet to actually support the movements that you were trying to make.

 “I’m sorry, it was my fault…this is exactly why I told you to stay away until Summer!” Tamaki groaned out the complaint, reaching up to tug at his hair while you managed to land a hand on one of his many tentacles; shuddering at the way it curled around your arm, practically yanking you up against his chest.

 “Tamaki, I don’t understand. What happened? How is this your fault?” You frowned as you mumbled out the questions, gently pressing a hand to his chest in an attempt to put some space between the two of you; his body too hot to be against currently. You already struggled not to stare at him on a good day, but the warmth that he currently provided was in no way helpful to you. It simply made you want to get closer to him.

 “Spring is…it’s basically mating season for merfolk (Name), it gets hard to think clearly. So, when you got in the water and I saw you…” He trailed off as his tentacle pulled you closer, Tamaki’s face now buried against your neck with his laboured breath sending shivers down your spine. An entirely new experience for you.

 “Ah…I remember…” You trailed off, your eyes going wide as you recalled the way his tentacles had dragged you beneath the water’s surface. They had curled around you in places that had made your head spin, refusing to let you go and apparently causing you to black out.

 “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry (Name)…” Tamaki trailed off, his arms snaking around your waist as he leaned into you more; the sudden shift in weight causing the both of you to go crashing back, Tamaki landing on top of you and pinning you to the wet sand below.

 You groaned out softly from the impact, squirming beneath him to try and regain some form of steadiness so that you would be able to get out of the embarrassingly intimate position that you had landed yourself in.

 “Don’t…!” Tamaki bit out the demand in a low groan, causing you to freeze beneath him, eyes wide as you lifted your gaze to meet his hungry one; heat rushing to your cheeks. The usually shy and timid man above you, was now a hot mess and you, well you were the poor soul trapped beneath his starving gaze.

 “Do you…understand why I told you to stay away now?” Tamaki spoke in a hushed voice, leaning down until your noses were touching; his lower half pressing down against your body and leaving you completely trapped. It was because of that, that you shook your head silently, gulping at the low groan that escaped the man above you; finding the sound a little too attractive.

 Before you could think of anything else to say, Tamaki’s mouth closed over your own. His lips rough and demanding against your own while the tentacles attached to him began to wind up around your legs; a hesitant tip pressing up between your thighs and rubbing against your bikini bottoms, pulling a cry from your startled form.

 Tamaki took it as an invitation, his hot tongue pushing into your mouth and enticing you into a foggy headed war. Oxygen seemed to be declared unnecessary while your body leaned up against his own, surrendering yourself to the soul-stealing kiss.

 “I tried to warn you…” Tamaki groaned out the words quietly, trailing a series of kisses down your neck while his hands explored your vulnerable body; practically swallowing you whole as you tried to regain your breath. Cheeks flushed with your head spinning. It was amazing what a simple kiss could do to you.

 “I didn’t want to scare you away…!” He bit down on your nipple through your bikini top in his frustration, causing you to cry out his name breathlessly. The very sound encouraging his exploring tentacles to slip beneath the cloth of your bikini bottoms, rubbing up against your slick-covered folds firmly; Tamaki desiring more of your noises.

 “Tama…ki…hold on…” You moaned out the words softly, squirming beneath him while he began to travel lower, his lips practically scolding hot against your skin the lower he went; a needy whimper escaping you when his tentacles removed your bikini completely, allowing Tamaki’s mouth to close around your sensitive clit.

 .

 “I can’t. I told you.”

 .

 You moaned out as his tongue worked against your clit mercilessly, his hands grasping at your thighs desperately; pulling you closer to him while his tentacles moved higher on your body, wrapping around you and rubbing against you until you began to turn into a squirming mess.

 “I’m not saying stop, I’m saying hold on!” You cried out loudly, curling your toes when his tentacles suctioned against your nipples the same time that he flicked his tongue against your clit firmly; sending a jolt of pleasure throughout your body.

 You whined softly, leaning your head back as he paused his ferocious advance on your body; taking the deep breaths that you needed. It was a lot to take in all at once, especially given the treatment that he was giving you. You had no time to think, to consider what this would mean for the two of you.

 “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you…” You mumbled out the words in a whisper as Tamaki moved back up to look down at you, his head hovering over your own once again while he licked his lips; a look of curiosity reflecting back at you.

 “But…is this really just because of Spring?” You closed your eyes as the question left your lips, squirming beneath him when you felt his tentacles move against your body; embracing you and exploring you all at once. Such a strange feeling.

 “Spring is when we breed” You pursed your lips at his confirmation, frowning up at him as you opened your eyes. Even though you had expected that to be his answer, it didn’t make it hurt any less; you had wanted a different answer, one that you likely wouldn’t get.

 “But usually, I hide away in my cave, where no one else bothers me.” Tamaki leaned down to place a kiss on your cheek as he spoke, smiling faintly at the shocked look that covered your face.

 “…I told you to stay away, but I still came here to wait for you…” He admitted with a hesitance that sounded so much like his usual self, you couldn’t help but reach up to poke his cheek; a quiet giggle slipping past.

 “For two weeks?” He nodded in response to your question, making you gasp out loudly with a simple grind of his hips; his previously concealed dick now rubbing up against your folds, throbbing and dribbling precum.

 “Do you want me?” He whispered out the words nervously, burying his face against your chest while you squirmed beneath him; the sand beneath you almost as uncomfortable as the desire that your anxious octopus had stirred up.

 “Mm, I want you.” You hummed out the words he was oh-so-desperate to hear, gasping out his name when the hands on your thighs tightened, holding you still while he buried every inch of his aching cock into you; stretching you around him and filling you more than you had previously imagined possible.

 His hips moved harder than you could keep up with, your body bouncing up and down with each thrust while his mouth trailed over your chest and neck, covering you with harsh bites and tender kisses.

 “Tamaki…! Oh my go—mmph!” Your eyes widened as one of his tentacles invaded your mouth, stuffing it and pushing deep inside to silence your too loud moans. Even though no one could see the two of you beneath the jetty, they could still hear the two of you and apparently, Tamaki wasn’t going to allow the two of you to be busted.

 “Shh, you can moan as loud as you want later, when no one can hear us” Tamaki mumbled out the words, groaning low as he continued to fuck you; every now and then grinding up against you and making you whimper around the tentacle in your mouth, tears building in the corner of your eyes.

 With each of his thrusts, he was managing to hit your sweet spot and those slow grinds were pure torture to you; a constant stimulation that your body couldn’t keep up with.

 .

 “You sound so good…”

 .

 You gagged around his tentacle when it thrust deeper, coughing and choking on desperately needed air the moment it removed itself from your mouth; allowing you only a moment’s relief before it was once again shoved back down your throat.

 “You’re squeezing down on my dick…do you like that (Name)? Choking on my tentacle?” Tamaki groaned the question into your ear as his hips bucked uncontrollably, his teeth sharp against the cartilage of your ear when he bit down; causing a muffled cry to escape you.

 You moaned around the tentacle in your mouth when Tamaki’s thrusts grew faster, his rhythm going out the window the closer he got to his release; yet another tentacle moving to join the mind-blowing pleasure as a familiar heat began to build up in the pit of your stomach.

 You gagged violently when the tentacle began to move against your clit, matching the pace of Tamaki’s thrusts while you tried your best to keep breathing through your nose so that you wouldn’t pass out from a lack of air.

 “(Name)…I’m nearly…” Tamaki moaned into the soft skin of your neck as your body arched, a muffled scream escaping you while your orgasm rocked through your entire body; making your walls clench around Tamaki’s throbbing cock.

 It was enough to push him over the edge too, if you were to go by the way his hips slammed up against your own; his body going tense as your name left his lips in a shaky groan. Tamaki’s thick seed filling you with each slow roll of his hips, the tentacle against your clit and the tentacle in your mouth retreating so that you could catch your breath and recover from the earth-shattering orgasm that you had the joy to experience.

 “D-Damn it…next time, take us somewhere else first…!” You whined out the complaint, reaching up to rub your sore throat while Tamaki mumbled apologies from above you; his face a dark crimson red.

 .

 “I’m sorry, I really am…don’t worry, I’ll take us somewhere else now…!”