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wonwoonlight · 1 year

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my daisy special: little flower | kim mingyu

➝ CEO!Mingyu x Reader

➝ fluff // slice of life // marriage!au // est relationship // a little angsty // hurt comfort..?

➝ warning: mentions of pregnancy (it's literally the plot jshdbf), mentions of sex (no smut scenes), soft Mingyu D:

➝ word count: 4.6~k

A/N: hi! it's been some time since i write this couple. ngl i miss them so much and it gets me a little giddy to see them still popping up in my notif haha. anyway! i'm posting this as a celebration for my 3k milestone, i really i wish i could've written more but i'm happy with how this turns out and i hope this suffice hehe thank you for the love you've been giving to my daisy and please enjoy!! do tell me what you think about it🩷

my daisy masterlist

[✾✾✾]

You have a set of problems.

You’re pregnant.

You don’t know how to tell Mingyu and Gyuri.

And, last but absolutely not least because it’s the one that you think is the biggest of them all:

3. Gyuri just told you she doesn’t want a sibling anymore.

Biting your lip to the point where it almost bleeds, all sorts of feelings run through you as you stare at the three pregnancy tests in front of you. All of them are positive, which didn’t come off as a much of a surprise, if you’re being completely honest.

You noticed the symptoms almost immediately weeks ago, but you didn’t want to jump into conclusions and a part of you wanted to brush them off as something else–everything else. Oh, you threw up? Perhaps you ate something wrong. Oh, you’re lightheaded? You definitely didn’t sleep enough the night before. Oh, your period is late? Happens sometimes when you’re a little too stressed.

You were just delaying taking the test. But, deep down, you knew.

How could you not when you and Mingyu haven’t been using any sort of protection for the past year? It’s not that you’re trying for a kid, but the both of you have decided that whatever happens, happens. You’ve seen a lot of people hoping to conceive and unfortunately not get pregnant even after years have passed.

If you somehow get pregnant without even trying, you’ll just accept that it’s what you’re meant to do.

Plus, you don’t think the both of you would ever be ready for a kid if you plan to have one–nor the emotional baggage that would come if you decide to try only to find out you’re not pregnant just yet.

So, after a lot of thinking and Gyuri’s 7th birthday last year, the both of you agree to just forego protections since. If you end up getting pregnant, it’ll just be a pleasant surprise. You both would love to be pregnant, and you’d like to think you’re mentally (and financially) prepared enough from that point onwards.

Okay.

First thing first.

“Baby?” Mingyu knocks on the bathroom door, wondering if something’s wrong because you’re way too silent and it’s been a whole ten minutes since you’ve excused yourself to the bathroom. “You okay?”

You blink back the tears at his voice, still staring at the pregnancy tests in front of you. You’re happy, you really are, and you know Mingyu would be elated.

But Gyuri?

It was just last month that she declared she’s not up for the sister life.

“Ma, I don’t think I want siblings anymore.” She said out of nowhere when she was cuddling with you. Mingyu was outside the city for a business trip, so the two of you decided to have a girls’ night; complete with the disney movies, pizzas, ice cream, and everything else that definitely left Gyuri too high on sugar by the end of the night.

“Yeah?” You tried to indulge her, though something inside you dropped at the revelation. Gyuri had always been excited at the prospect of being a sister, and she played the older sister role very well with Junseo, Jennie’s son. What changed? “Why?”

“Junseo is enough.” She shrugged, playing with the material of your pajamas. “Also… I don’t want to lose you.”

You laughed at that, but quickly got concerned when Gyuri seemed to be fairly serious about what she had just said.

“You wouldn’t lose me, Flower.” You reminded her with a kiss and a tight hug. “What made you think so?”

“You’d need to take care of the baby all the time…” she trailed off, and you once again wondered what made Gyuri to be this much attuned to her own feelings when she’s only seven. “Dunno… I just want you and Papa for myself.”

“Oh, my little Lili.” You pulled away at her words, cupped her face and reminded her that you’d never abandon her, siblings or not. She didn’t look convinced, though you couldn’t blame her because you kind of understood where she’s coming from.

Gyuri had been an only child for all her life. It was probably a little lonely, but she received all the love she needed and wanted from every single person around her. When Junseo came around, she was just excited that she finally had a friend, some sort of distant relative, and she readily took the older sister role for him.

But you knew sometimes she found him annoying. They’re kids, could you blame them? But Gyuri was a little too mature for her own good, and she’d just run to you or Mingyu when Junseo annoyed her instead of fighting him like any other child her age would. She wouldn’t even cry out of frustration.

She’d frown, try to tell Junseo off, and if he still didn’t listen, she’d just leave and settle by her parents’ side.

It worried you, if you’re to be completely honest. You and Mingyu had never asked her to suppress her feelings, but Gyuri rarely threw a tantrum and the both of you had been worried that it would eat her inside out at some point.

“Just me, you, and Papa.” She closed the discussion, hugging you tighter and eventually falling asleep on your lap.

“Daisy?” Mingyu tries once again, and even calls your name when you still don't answer. You take a deep breath and straighten your posture. Okay, no use doing a grand announcement to Mingyu. He’d be happy either way and you’d rather tell him immediately. You both have more important things to think about than a surprise: Gyuri’s possible reaction to this.

“Coming,” you finally answer before opening the door.

Mingyu looks concerned, not wasting any second to ask if you’re okay. He’s a little startled when you grasp his hands, holding them tight before asking him not to freak.

“Daisy, you’re scaring me.”

You manage to give him a smile though, because despite the worries, you are happy to know you’re pregnant. There’s a life growing inside you–a baby that is both a mix of you and your husband.

As much as you worry about Gyuri, you’re still giddy at the fact that you’re finally pregnant–that your family is growing. And a part of you is relieved that Gyuri’s reaction is the only thing that seems to be of concern. Everything else is fine. If there’s any problem, they’re not big enough for you to think of them now.

Perhaps seeing Mingyu helps too. Because now you’re biting your lip to stop yourself from grinning too hard. You just knew his reaction would be priceless and you can’t wait to let him know about your current situation.

“Daisy, don’t play with me.” He frowns at the sudden change of your mood, but complies when you pull him into the bathroom.

He’s a little confused when you keep your silence, and he’s just about to ask again when he notices the sticks in front of the mirror. You feel him freeze for three whole seconds, and you finally grin when he turns to you, as if making sure that it’s what he thinks it is.

You nod even if he’s not saying anything, and it’s him who surprises you because Mingyu tears up and he almost whimpers if not for the fact that you jump to hug him. The whole situation is a little funny, but it’s not appropriate to laugh just yet so you let him have his moment. Years from now when your kids are old enough to understand, you'll definitely bring this up just so you can all tease him together.

He sniffles as he buries his head on your shoulder, which you’re sure is very uncomfortable due to his height. Mingyu doesn’t seem to care though, and he hugs you tighter like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t.

“Gyu?” You finally call him after a while, and he lets you pull away so he can look at you. He’s not crying, but his eyes are glossy and he’s still sniffling as if to hold back his tears.

You've seen this before. Twice, to be exact. The first time was when he finally proposed properly (whatever that meant) even though he already knew you'd say yes. The second time was on your wedding day, when you finally reached him at the end of the aisle with Gyuri holding your hand.

You smile softly as you search for his face, then you cup his face to pull him down for a gentle kiss. The feel of his breath against your face still makes you fuzzy inside, and when Mingyu presses his lips deeper into yours, a giggle escapes your lips until eventually he joins in, bringing you back in time and to some other universe where you go to the same highschool together, and you're a high-school couple still fresh in love.

“When should we go to the doctor?”

“We can go tomorrow?” You offer, reminding him his parents are in town. “Leave Lili with your mom? And then we can tell her too after.”

“Tomorrow it is.” He squeezes you once more with a happy grin, but only then realizes that you’re holding something back. “You okay?”

“Lili is in the living room with Wonwoo and the others, right?” He nods. “Let’s talk in our room, then.”

You haven’t been able to tell Mingyu about your talk with Gyuri that day and now seems like the perfect time to do so. He listens to you quietly, and you see the way his face falls as you tell him everything, the way it clicks to him why his daughter seems more reluctant to play with Junseo nowadays.

“I’m happy, Gyu. I really am. But Lili…”

“We’ll talk to her. Let’s think about it after the doctor appointment tomorrow, okay?”

You nod. It’s almost magic the way you relax at his words and his touch. And as you catch Mingyu looking at your stomach with a dazed smile, you let yourself be happy and push your worry to the back of your mind.

[✾✾✾]

Mingyu cries when the doctor does the ultrasound and confirms you’re pregnant.

[✾✾✾]

“What about names?”

You laugh at the big puppy that is your husband. Sometimes you wonder what would Seungkwan do if he ever catches Mingyu like this. For someone that is practically a big pile of mush when it comes to you, Mingyu is unexpectedly very good at keeping it low at work.

You thought he’d crack with Seungkwan eventually. But no. Even when you’re out for a friendly dinner after work, Mingyu would keep the PDA to a minimum. There’s some sort of pride battle going on between the two men that you’d never be able to figure out.

“I think we’d need to find out about the gender first before starting to pick names, Gyu."

“I mean… we can always just look for unisex names first…” He pouts a little, which urges you to kiss him. So you do exactly that, catching him by surprise though he’s definitely not complaining.

Mingyu hums into the kiss, his palm cupping your face and his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek.

“You’re very excited about this, aren’t you?” You pull away, just enough distance between your lips to talk.

“Mhm.” He drops another peck before entirely pulling away. He pauses before he continues, his palm never leaving your face as some sort of melancholy fills his eyes. “I didn’t… get to do this during… well, Gyuri’s pregnancy process.”

Your lips drop open to say something–anything. But nothing comes out, and you also know that anything you might’ve said regarding that part of his past wouldn’t help. So you decide to talk about what’s to come instead.

“Well, now we get to do this together for the first time.” You grasp the hand that’s on your face to give it a squeeze. “As long as we’re together, right?”

He tears up again, and you hold yourself back from teasing him and instead grin before you pull him into another kiss.

As long as you’re together.

[✾✾✾]

It’s almost a month later that you decide it’s time to let Gyuri know. You’ve told both of your families and your close circles, and while you initially thought you’d tell Gyuri once you start showing, after talking to your mom and Mingyu’s, they both agree that it’d be better to tell her sooner rather than later.

And here you are in her bedroom, sitting beside her as you break the news.

“But… I told you I don’t want a sibling.” She tears up. And as much as you’re ready for this reaction, it still breaks your heart to hear her say this again.

Mingyu drops to his knee to look into her eyes, his palms grabbing her small hands as he carefully chooses his next words.

“Can you tell me why?” Ha asks softly, and when Gyuri sniffles, her lips trembling as she stares back at him, he’s suddenly reminded of those years he had Gyuri all by himself. The time when he insisted that he could do it alone, that he didn’t need anyone’s help, and that Gyuri was his so he’d do everything on his own.

That he owed her that much.

It’s… been quite some time since he spent some time with her, huh? After you come into the picture, it never occurs to him that he might need to spend some alone time with Gyuri. The kid also seems happy with you around, and the last time he had gone out only with Gyuri had probably been… months ago when you went on a business trip.

“You told Mama already, yeah?” he tries one more time, and when she nods, he continues. “I want to hear from you, though. Can you tell me?”

“I don’t… want to share you and Mama.”

Mingyu nods, then tells her how you’d love her still, that none of you are leaving her behind, that you need her to be with you.

“We will need you more because of this, Lili.” You caress her head. “I will need you to help me. Not only because of your sister or brother. We need you. Mama and Papa always do.”

“But–but you’ll still need to take care of the baby a lot…”

“Flower, we will take care of you both. No favorites, we promise. Please don’t think we’ll stop taking care of you because of the baby, okay?”

Gyuri shakes her head, and this time she drops her gaze to avoid yours as her lips start to tremble again. You share a worried look with Mingyu. You know Gyuri doesn’t want a sibling, and this is actually a problem that a lot of families have, but you still don’t have a clear grasp of how much this actually bothers her.

The both of you watch as Gyuri turns and falls into Mingyu’s embrace then circles her arms around his neck. She’s not sobbing, which is good, but it’s concerning just how upset she seems to be.

“Lili?”

She shakes her head, seemingly done with the conversation.

Mingyu throws you a look, then signs you to leave for a bit because, at the end of the day, Gyuri is still more honest with him than she is with you. Perhaps he can coax her a bit more like this. Just like the old times.

He takes her in his arms and sits on her bed, simply holds her on his lap as he lets her have her moment.

“Flower, will you look at me?”

She’s reluctant, but she pulls away and Mingyu almost regrets asking her to because she looks crestfallen. Is the idea of having a sibling that upsetting?

“It’s been long since it’s just us two, huh?” He says instead, smiling a little. Does she even remember the time when it’s just the two of them? She was three before you came into their lives. “I always share you with Mama now.”

“Papa miss Lili?”

“All the time.” He answers without missing a beat. “But Mama also does, that’s why I don’t mind sharing you with Mama. Do you want me to be selfish and take you for myself instead?”

Gyuri frowns and shakes her head. “No. Lili wants to be with Mama too.”

“You like Mama a lot, huh?”

She nods but doesn’t elaborate.

“Do you think we will stop loving you if you share us with your sibling, Li?”

The words from her lips come out as a mumble. Mingyu doesn’t really get what she’s saying, but he’s satisfied that she’s open to talk now.

“You know, when you were a baby, I didn’t want to share you with Grandma and Grandpa.” He says, thumb rubbing against her cheek. “I was afraid they’d take you away from me.”

“Why would they steal me from you?” She giggles at the prospect of her grandparents taking her away from him.

“I was just afraid I was not a good Papa for you.” Gyuri seems to have a hard time understanding this, tilting her head adorably that earns her a soft kiss on the forehead. “But Grandma and Grandpa just wanted to help. They didn’t want to take you away from me.”

She blinks at him, trying to see where this is going.

“The baby… won’t take us away from you, Lili. I know you’re worried, but I promise we will always, always love you. It’s because of you Mama and Papa are together, you know?”

Her eyes dim at the mention of the baby once again, and he tries to be patient for her sake, caressing her hair as he tells her a thousand reasons why you, him, and the baby need her. That she’s not getting left behind in any way.

“That’s not it.” She starts, her voice small. But her next words are never ones he expected. “Lili… is not Mama’s baby.”

It takes Mingyu a few seconds to understand what she’s saying, and when he does, he’s cold with the realization that this scenario is also possible.

You were insecure about being a mother figure to Gyuri, afraid that you’re not enough for her. He has never imagined the same kind of insecurity would be present on Gyuri’s end.

She’s… insecure because she’s not your blood and this baby would be?

“Oh, Kim Gyuri…” He hugs her again, the puzzle finally clicking. “You’ll always be Mama’s baby. She loves you a lot. Remember when she took care of you when you were sick a long time ago? She wasn’t your Mama yet but she played with you and took care of you anyway.”

Gyuri probably doesn’t. But Mingyu does. How could he not when it’s probably the start of his relationship with you?

“Do you want to talk about this with Mama?” He tries softly. “I think she will be able to understand more if you do.”

“Mama won’t be mad?”

He smiles at her worries, shaking his head and assuring her you wouldn’t be mad at all. “She will be sad if you’re upset, though. Do you want Mama to be sad?”

“No…”

“Let’s go?”

She nods and asks him to carry her. When they arrive in the master bedroom, you look up from the bed, looking concerned still.

Gyuri doesn’t say anything, but leans to you and reaches out her arms so you’ll take her instead.

“Hi, baby.” You kiss her head. “How are you feeling?”

She shrugs, but she leans on your shoulder and lets you caress her hair. Mingyu sends you a look. Apparently, whatever talk they had hasn’t really resulted in anything, not that you expect her to change her mind just like that. Still, Mingyu mouths something about asking Gyuri, so you do.

“You wanna tell me something?” She hesitates, so you do it first. “Can I share something with Lili, then?”

At her nod, you take a deep breath before you start.

“I’m afraid Lili won't like me anymore because of the baby.”

“What? No… Lili always like Mama.” She frowns. “Lili just… Baby…”

Mingyu sits on the bed next to you, encouraging Gyuri to continue as he tells her it’s okay. You look at him in question, but he doesn’t give you any answer. Perhaps the talk did result in something, after all.

“Mama won’t be mad, I promise.” He adds, making you even more confused. “Do you want me to tell Mama instead?”

She nods, burying her face on your shoulder to hide.

You urge Mingyu to talk, hugging Gyuri closer to reassure her that you’re not going to be mad at all.

“She said she’s not… your baby. But the baby will be.”

Huh.

What?

You need a moment to take that, Gyuri–what?

“Lili, what makes you think you’re not my baby?” You ask sadly, wondering if it’s okay to pull her away from your embrace. “I choose to love you, baby. And I will need you to help me take care of me now, not only the baby. Having this baby means I will need you around me more often, you know?”

You and Mingyu spend about another thirty minutes reassuring Gyuri nonstop, thirty long minutes that is luckily not spent calming her tears down. You don’t even know if that’s what you’re supposed to do; should you be giving her space instead?

But that’s always the thing about parenting, isn’t it? Sometimes you make the wrong choice and Gyuri gets the end of it, and sometimes you think you’ve pushed her too much only for Gyuri to actually get the message and fix her mistakes.

“And, you know, I think baby told me that they’re already very excited to see you.” You try another approach. “When this baby is born, you would need to teach them how to play and to draw and to use the bubble bath. Mama and Papa are too old for that.”

This seems to get her attention, and she asks if she can ask them to play with her big barbie house that Junseo seems to hate with all his heart.

“Anything you want, Flower. This baby is going to be your sibling, you can ask each other to play everything if you want, would you do that?”

“Hmm… Is it a brother or a sister?”

You share a smile with Mingyu at last. She’s no longer declining the idea, at least.

“We don’t know yet. Do you have a preference?”

“As long as they’re not annoying like Junseo.”

That you can’t be sure of, but you laugh with her to ease her mind. For all its worth, you’re actually a little touched that Gyuri cares that much about being your flesh and blood. It’s going to be different, your love for her and your love for the baby growing inside you. But you don’t think it would have anything to do with one of them being your own blood.

No.

It’s true. You choose to love Gyuri. She’s not your biological child, and you practically fell in love with her from the first time you saw her by herself in SVT Inc.’s building. But it’s not as easy as people believe it to be to keep on loving her. You have to constantly think about the line you need to keep as someone who’s not her mom, but you definitely care for her and love her too much to be just another person in her life.

Gyuri also depends on you a lot, sometimes even foregoing her father just so she can bask in your comfort. And after the whole fighting episode that ended up with Mingyu proposing to you, she’s even more clingy after it’s clear that she’s allowed to call you her Mama.

“So there’s… a baby… inside you?” She asks after a while, looking at you with wonder.

You take her hand with a smile and place her palm on your stomach. Obviously, none of you can feel anything just yet, but you tell her you’ll be able to in a few months and you'd like it if she’ll be there for it.

“You will have a lot of big sister things to do.” You tell her seriously. Gyuri likes having responsibilities (it’s definitely the perfectionism and hard-working tendency from her father), and if there’s any way where you can make her feel that she’s needed, you’re ready to let Gyuri do whatever she chooses to do. “Decorate the baby’s room, buy new toys, hmm… What more do you think we need to do, Gyu?”

Mingyu grins as you ask him this, and he pretends to think also before throwing the question to his daughter instead.

“What else, Li?”

She takes her time to think, which melts your heart to the point of nonexistence because you didn’t expect her to take things this seriously. And when she finally knows what to say, you almost tear up because you didn’t expect her to say that at all.

“Buy Mama a lot of food?” She offers, a frown on her face. “Eunji says her mom eats a lot when pregnant, is that true?”

“Oh, my baby.” You hug her hard and melt against her body. Gyuri is going to turn eight this year, and whilst she’s almost too big for you to hold now, sometimes it feels like she’s just the small girl you met five years ago. Has it really been five years since you’ve met her and Mingyu? “That is true, alright. And I think some people eat sooooo much ice cream during their pregnancy, will you eat them with me?”

Gyuri giggles at your exaggeration, though of course she happily nods at the prospect of too much dessert.

“I will make a list!” She suddenly jumps in excitement, wiggling on your lap. “So many toys to buy. Can I sleep with the baby? When will the baby come? What do they like?”

You tear up at the change of attitude, so it’s Mingyu who answers even if he wants to tease you about it.

“In nine months. And they will like whatever you get them. But don’t buy too much just yet, okay?”

“That’s so long!” She gasps.

“Yeah, but that means we’ll be all prepared, right?” He grins at her, one arm going around you while his other hand ruffles Gyuri’s hair. “You need to practice to be a big sister, too! Will you be able to do it?”

Gyuri nods vigorously, promising that she will be the bestest sister ever. “And I will help you too, Ma. You will call Lili everytime you need help?”

At this point, you’re already crying as you nod. Gyuri panics a little, tries her best to wipe your tears when Mingyu assures her that you’re crying because you’re happy.

“Do you want to see a picture of the baby? You can’t see them clearly, though.”

Surprisingly, Gyuri shakes her head. But before you can worry yet again, she beams and says she wants everything to be a surprise. “But tell me when you find out if it’s a boy or a girl?”

“You can come with us to the doctor when we find out, Flower.”

She squeals in excitement, the previous stand on wanting to be a big sister seems to have returned. Gyuri starts to ramble about the amusement parks and all her favorite places that she wants to visit with the baby, and you finally share a relieved smile with Mingyu.

He leans forward to peck your lips, whispering that he’s excited for another beginning for your family. The smile on his face is the most beautiful you’ve ever seen. With his heart full, he hugs you both tighter into his chest and simply laughs when Gyuri whines, asking him to let go.

[✾✾✾]

A/N: thank you again for 3k!! see you on mwty special <3

my daisy taglist: @yslshua@penny-quinn@nollixtrml@dnylwoo@itsveronicaxxx@john-and-paul@wheeinz@rjsmochii@w0nuuu@boowanie@n6body@imtotallydef@wwssi@bythe8@cheolright@coupsiekkuma@hoe4wonwoo@kyeomjjigae@jh-fn @clairdelunesstuff @yoongischeeksluv @onlywonforhui@janandbeyond@treasure-hwa@teddy-cheol@tito-jun@projectjuvia@notscoupy@jeonshuawreads@cheoriemoawa@wtfkidult@itsdnguyenxoxo @nothingbutadeadesceane@juli-ssi @soonchanshua@wonunuu @cottonsthings@youcanreadithere

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thelovelylolly · 5 months

Note

hi there :) i loved your latest Billy fic, it nearly brought tears to my eyes. could you please do a fluff alphabet with Billy ? Thank you 🤍 keep writing, you're so good at this !!!

Fluff Alphabet w/ Billy Hargrove

A/N: aw thank you so much love! i hope you enjoy <3 (also this isn't proofread bc im tired, what else is new lol)

A: Affection (how does he show affection/is he good at it)

He mainly shows it through physical touch or little acts of service. He's not very vocal about his love, he much rather show it. He loves to hold your hand or have an arm around you at all times.

B: Beauty (what does he think makes his s/o beautiful)

While physical looks are a huge part of his attraction towards you, he really loves your personality. He loves the little quirks about you, little things that only come out later on in your relationship. It's almost like he's the only person who knows about those things, and it makes him feel so special.

C: Comfort (how he comforts his s/o after a rough day)

He'd take you out for a drive. He'd let you pick the music to blast from the speakers in the car and let you roll the windows down. He loves to hear you scream the lyrics to your favorite songs and if he knows the song, he'd sing a long, too :)

D: Dreams (what does his dream future with his s/o look like)

He wants a home and kids, but he's terrified he'd become just like his father. He knows if he pursues the family life with you, you would never let him become like his dad, but it's still a fear he'll always have.

E: Equal (is he more dominant or soft in the relationship)

It's Billy, even ooc, he's the dominant one. He doesn't see himself as superior to you in anyway, he just knows what he wants and he's gonna get it, y'know? Your happy to let him take the wheel in the relationship, but you both know that you'd take it back if needed.

F: Fight (how would a typical fight go and how easily would he forgive his s/o)

At the beginning of your relationship, Billy would pick fights over stupid things. You fought back, putting him in his place of course, until the fighting became too much and you sat down with him to talk things out. After that, the fights nearly stop, only happening over serious things.

G: Gratitude (is he grateful for all his s/o does/has done for him)

He's so grateful for you. You helped him cope with the abuse he'd gone through, you were patient with him as he unlearned toxic habits he had because of his dad, you were an angel to him and he will always be grateful for you.

H: Honest (how honest is he to his s/o)

He's pretty honest with you. He only hid and lied about things to you at the start of your relationship, but once his walls come down, he doesn't have anything to hide. He mainly stopped hiding and lying to you because he never wanted to lose you over it.

I: Inspiration (did his s/o inspired him to become a better person)

Yes, 100%. Like before, you helped him cope with the abuse he had gone through. You helped him work on himself to become a better person, a person he would've never become without you.

J: Jealousy (does he get jealous)

Yes, yes, yes. Did I mention yes? He's so scared of losing you that if another guy tries to make a move on you, Billy is by your side in a second to scare the guy away. He knows you wouldn't leave him, but he can never too safe.

K: Kiss (where does he kiss his s/o, where does his s/o kiss him)

He loves to kiss you anywhere, but especially on your lips. While he's kiss other girls on the lips, you were different. Every time he kisses your lips, sparks fly like he's kissing you for the first time again and again. Your favorite place to kiss him is the top of his head. He loves wrapping his arms around you when your standing in front of him while he's sitting, so you would press soft kisses to the top of his head. Just gentle intimacy :)

L: Little ones (how is he with kids)

Not good AT ALL. Unless they're his, he does not like kids. He'd try to put up with other people's kids if your babysitting them or something, but he doesn't like taking care of kids that aren't his. If they are his, he's one of the best dad's out there.

M: Marriage (does he want to get married)

Yes, but I feel like he doesn't want a traditional wedding. If you want one, he'd be down, but I think he'd prefer a courthouse wedding with a small reception with your closest friends afterwords. He doesn't see the point of dropping thousands of dollars on one day, but like I said, if you want a traditional wedding day, he'd be happy with it.

N: Nicknames (what nicknames does he have for his s/o and vice versa)

His go-to pet names are 'babe', 'baby', and 'sweetheart'. He isn't good at making personal nicknames, so he just sticks with the simple pet names. You do the same, usually calling him 'babe' or 'handsome'.

O: On cloud nine (what's he like when he's in love)

When he's in truly and deeply in love, his playboy personality disappears. He's a gentleman and a sweetheart, making sure you know he loves you. At first, he doesn't say it a lot, but after a few months, he'll be saying "I love you" every chance he gets.

P: PDA (is he okay with pda)

He loves PDA. He loves having an arm around you or his fingers intertwined with yours. It's mainly because he wants to tell the world your his s/o and he wants to show you off.

Q: Quirk (a trait of his that makes him a great partner)

When he loves, he loves hard. He's kissing you, cuddling you, hugging you, doing things for you. You name it, he does it. He puts his whole heart into his relationship with you because he adores you and you treat him better than anyone else does.

R: Romance (how romantic is he)

He's romantic, but not in a cheesy way. He does the dinners and flowers, but not only on special days like Valentine's day. He also gets you little gifts no matter the occasion. You spotted something you wanted but didn't end up getting? It's on your bed a few days later with a sweet, short note from Billy.

S: Security (how protective is he)

Jealous AND protective. If he gets a bad vibe from someone, he's immediately finding a reason to get you out of the situation. He'd put himself between you and danger if it ever comes down to it. He puts you before him in a dangerous or uneasy situation.

T: Thrill (does he like new things in the relationship or does he like routine)

He loves adventure, so he likes to try new things. Mainly new date locations and activities to keep things fresh. I have a feeling he wouldn't like going back to the same place over and over again (unless it's your favorite restaurant or date location).

U: Ugly (what are some of his bad traits and does he know about them)

His temper. It's gotten better because you pointed it out to him, but it used to be so much worse. He used to have such a short temper that your arguments would be over stupid little things. It was because that was how he defended himself from his dad, so that's how he reacted whenever he felt threatened or criticize. Luckily, you helped him out and now he's much better.

V: Value (is his relationship his main priority)

YES!!! Billy is head over heels in love with you, of course you and your relationship is his priority! You're basically his entire world <3

W: Wild Card

He likes to be the little spoon when you two cuddle. With your arms around him, it's a reminder that you're there with him and you love him enough to cuddle with him. It's a comfort thing, and you don't mind it at all.

X: XOXO (how often does he kiss, hug, and cuddle with you)

Any chance he gets. He loves his arms around you and his lips on yours. If you need some distance, he'll respect that of course, but physical touch is definitely one of his love languages.

Y: Yuck (something he doesn't like)

Too much complaining. He understands complaining about your day or a person neither of you like, but he doesn't like it when you or anyone is constantly complaining like they're impossible to please.

Z: Zzz (how is he when he sleeps)

Since your relationship started and you two started to sleep in the same bed, he sleeps like a baby. He snores a little bit and tosses, too, but you two are always touching one way or another while you two sleep. After a while, Billy couldn't fall asleep without you with him.

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x you #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things fan fic #stranger things fanfiction

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bandaged-writer · 2 years

Text

𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗜𝗧 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧.

↠ pairing. dazai x reader

↠ genre. angst, heartbreak, happy ending

↠ warnings. not proof-read

↠ words. 1k

↠ summary. you knew that if you turned around, you would never be able to let dazai go and let him have the life he deserved

↠ notes. it's been actual years since i've posted anything on this account and the first thing i write at 7 am gotta be angst 👩🏻‍🦯 anyways, i hope you enjoy this little something i whipped up on a whim ✨

When the lights illuminating Yokohama were exceptionally pretty, in a spot that only you and Dazai knew, the birds were still chirping underneath the setting sun. The sky, dipped in hues so blue that it rivalled the sadness within the man's heart, hung above you like some sort of omen.

"You called me out here to say goodbye, didn't you?" Breaking the silence first, you gave Dazai a smile. One that he admitted to adore when he thought you were sound asleep in his bed.

"How did you know?" Dazai asked, a rare, surprised glimmer in those eyes that always seemed so void of any life left.

You chuckled, it lacked any humor. "I have heard of Odasaku's passing, Osamu. Rumor had it that a mafia executive went after him and never came back. I had a hunch it was you."

Dazai let a half-smile grace his features. Attentive as always, although your head seemed to be up in the clouds, believing in everything that was deemed good, but refusing to judge him who had done everything that was deemed evil.

Before Dazai could speak another word, you beat him to it. "You wish to leave, don't you?"

Not the brightest tool in the shed, they liked to call you. But you had managed to figure Dazai out, an endless puzzle of complex thoughts and an inexplicable desire for death that ran as deep as the ocean. Despite that, you willingly drowned in his sea.

"I can't hide anything from you, can I?" Dazai came to a stop in the middle of a field of grass, trees and dandelion seeds as he took in your appearance.

Your eyes got glassy underneath the last sunrays and threatened to spill like an overflowing sink and for once, Dazai understood a feeling he had never quite felt before until he lost Odasaku and stood in front of you.

The fear of losing those he loved.

He always said that the things worth wanting were always lost the moment he obtained them, yet he feared this moment, because this was the end of the one good thing he managed to obtain.

Dazai remembered the day he met you for the very first time at Lupin by Odasaku's side. The only person left of a small-scale group, Oda had said while you were shoving a piece of strawberry cake down your throat. Oh, how horribly you had cried and how hilarious you looked with whipped cream stuck to the corner of your lips.

Back then, Dazai hadn't thought much of you. You were merely another person with another tragedy upon their shoulders. Too innocent, too soft for the mafia. Not even one good quality did you possess that could qualify you to be part of the Port Mafia.

Each time Dazai had seen you again, you'd prove him wrong and his interest in you was the demise of the heart he had buried six feet under.

"It's okay if you wish to leave. I won't stop you," you said and cupped Dazai's cheeks. His skin was warmer than usual, you silently noted.

"I will never see you again once we turn our backs on each other. Are you sure?" He leaned into your touch, his hand resting atop yours.

"Of course!" Now, the tears were rolling down your cheeks and you cussed underneath your breath. "Ah, you shouldn't see me cry. You have to remember my smiling face!" Hurriedly, you wiped the tears from your face and forced a smile upon your lips. "Girls look prettier when they smile, after all."

Dazai couldn't help the light-hearted laugh slipping his lips or his hands that dried your tears. "Belladonna, how could I ever forget your smile?"

The last sniffles left you. "Promise?"

"..I promise."

And when dandelion seeds got stuck in Dazai's hair while he was wearing a smile so gentle, you knew it was the right decision to let him go. Whatever plan he had up his sleeve, you knew it was better than being stuck in this hell disguised as the mafia.

Yes, he'd be well.

Even if it was without you, this was all you had ever wanted for the man you had terribly fallen in love with.

He'd be well.

Standing on your tippy toes, fingers grasping the soft fabric of his blazer, you pressed a kiss to Dazai's cheek. Your breath fanned across his skin as you spoke in soft, broken tones. "Take care, Osamu."

A heart heavy as lead beat within your chest as you turned your back to Dazai and walked away. Each step was more painful than the previous, each step tore that heart within you apart, but you couldn't bear to see the face Dazai was making.

You knew that if you turned around, you would never be able to let Dazai go and let him have the life he deserved.

It wasn't until five years later that Kunikida pulled Dazai back to the Agency after his hell of a partner nearly buried himself on a client's farm. Kunikda was certain that he would die of a heart attack caused by none other than the bandage-wasting machine that went by the name of Dazai Osamu.

"If you wanna bury yourself, do it in your free time! Because of you, our next client has been waiting 5 minutes and 35 seconds longer than scheduled!," Kunikida scolded his colleague, dragging him up the stairs by the collar like a sack of potatoes.

Dazai whined. "You sure love your schedules, huh?"

When Kunikida ripped the door open and the light coming from within the Agency briefly blinded Dazai, he could hear chatter and laughter coming from within. One voice belonged to Yosano, another one to Tanizaki and the other one to someone who he had silently cherished like a prayer in his heart.

"Oh! There they are." Yosano said.

After years of vowing to yourself to not turn back, you finally did. Not a hint of regret lingered in your eyes when you saw Dazai again and smiled at him like you always did when he used to cross paths with you in the mafia.

The decision to let him go that evening was indeed the right one, you concluded after seeing the spark of something in his eyes.

"Right. I have a request for you."

#bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu x reader

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mugiwara-rosewolf · 1 year

Note

Hi again. Requests on Sabo at your service 😂 I love it too much 😍 anyway. I'm still here because the first request was great! You write very well. I put you if you allow me in the favorite writers that I discovered on this site! ♥ and also if ever another idea comes to me, let me come back to let you know *bows*

Good ! we're going to go to my dear and adorable Sabo.... I don't know if you write nfsw? Let me know if it's yes or no (so I can see what kind of request I'll send you)

So, reader will be in the revolutionary army before Sabo, she meets him at her mission in fuschia. Then after his accident, she helps him to overcome this ordeal and years later, Sabo discovers that he loves her but how to tell her given how much he is not comfortable with himself and says to himself he doesn't deserve happiness

I don't know if it's angst or not, but it's too hard to be soft... Especially the last sentence. Sabo-chan, you deserve all the stars in the universe, don't think like that 🤧 a happy ending at the end where I (reader) comfort him. I trust you to bring sabo's insecurities to the fore and how reader comforts him

Hello friend! Thank you again for such a wonderful request! I appreciate the compliments and would be honoured to be included among your favourites. I love this idea, and I really hope I did it justice.

(P.S. - I'm okay with writing NSFW stuff. I haven't had the chance to update the rules section of my blog to say so because I am fairly new to the genre, so just a fair warning).

(P.P.S. - HOO-boy, this got out of hand. IDK what possessed me but ~ I'm afraid I'm gonna have to break this fic into two parts. I hope that's okay 😅).

Anyways - Enjoy!

All My Life

Part 1

Sabo x F! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: Slight Canon Divergence, Revolutionary!Reader, Besotted!Sabo, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Amnesia, Light Angst & Mild Cursing.

This was the life - her life. Ever since birth, she'd been raised under the credo of the Revolution. It was as a favour to Dragon himself that Y/N and her parents left HQ to live under deep cover in the East Blue. A secret of the highest clearance was hiding there, he told them. The orders were to 'guard it with your life'.

She'd been born this way. The Army's youngest ever spy.

And that's precisely what she did. The moment she met a kid named Monkey D - she knew her mission had begun. Guard it with your life. Guard it with your life. Her leader's words rang in her ears for years after that. Keeping a razor-sharp eye on those blasted pirates that blew in and out of town with the wind. Biting the hands and feet of those blasted bandits whenever they invaded. Their leader, 'the Bear,' would never risk the humiliation of admitting half his wicked scars were from the end of her daggers.

When young Monkey D came away from those tumultuous times with merely a few stitches under his eye (self-inflicted, mind you), Y/N was half tempted to consider her mission a success. Little did she know -- the lion's share of her protective duties had only begun.

***

He wouldn't remember this for years. For years. And part of him was still ashamed to admit it to this day. He wouldn't remember the (h/c) girl with those fierce (e/c) eyes and that wicked pair of daggers at her sides. He wouldn't remember how she was his brother's first protector. Bandaging his rubber-skinned wounds and wiping his cry-baby tears with calloused hands. He wouldn't remember how the dappled sunlight of the jungle would play across her hair, sparking the flint in her eyes. How she could swing from the branches as limber as the wind and carve all their initials into the trunk of their tree house. Years went by, with him never knowing those golden days existed.

What he remembered, instead, was a hospital room. Bandages prickling his skin from head to toe. The smell of cotton was overpowered by night sweats and disinfectant. Not to mention the stench of Ivankov's various perfumes and powdered shoved in his face as soon as he awoke. Y/N would always laugh remembering that part, telling him he 'screamed like a monkey'. She'd be laughing so hard she'd be wiping tears. Mostly happy ones, he thought.

She was right there at his bedside when he woke up. Gripping the brim of his hat so tight, her knuckles were white. She handed it to him so he could see his name embroidered on a little tag on the inside. Sabo. Part of him feared he wouldn't remember that much if not for her.

When Dragon and the others discussed the idea of sending him home...remembering that jolt of fear of panic stills sends a shudder down his spine to this day. He cried out against it. Begged them to let him stay. He's not sure his please would've worked if Y/N hadn't protested alongside him. Telling them about the horrors she'd witnessed in Grey Terminal. The cruelty of the Goa Kingdom. When she spoke, there were tears in her eyes.

Years passed, and together they stayed.

She brought him books while on bedrest. Told him stories when his eyes got tired. Shared meals with him by candlelight in that lonely hospital den. Not all the stories were happy, but that was okay. Cause her voice captured each emotion expertly. Even when she wandered to his bandaged side, he learned to read her voice as clearly as any picture book. Learned what it sounded like when she smiled when she laughed.

She was right there beside him when he woke up from night terrors. Or when the headaches set his vision on fire. When shivers wracked his body, locking his bones together till he couldn't breathe. She was right there beside him. Her calloused hands pawed at hospital sheets when they finally removed the bandages. He saw his fingers for the first time. Her breath caught. She wouldn't think he heard her, but he did. How could he not?

The Doctors held up a mirror - and he saw it all. The molten skin coating half his left side gleamed in the dim light like a spider's webbing buried into the cracks of his flesh...absorbing his left eye. The blue of his eye had exploded like those supernovas he had read about in books. He tried to look, to see the doctor without turning his head, but all he saw was a blurry minty white. Like the sheets beneath his hands. Like the pallor on Y/N's face when she finally saw the damage done with her own two eyes. --And she cried.

He never thought it'd hurt so much to hear her cry.

She was on his left side the first time she told him about her family. How mercenaries had captured and tortured her best friend. How her parents had been lost trying to help others escape this huge fire that Nobles had set in the slums of her home. She told him spontaneous fires started there sometimes with discarded metals or glass catching the light in the summertime, but it had never been so bad as that day. From the pit that swallowed his gut, he knew instinctively that fire was no accident. All those people... razed to the ground on someone else's whims. Sabo felt sick to his stomach.

It was the first time he had tried to reach out to someone. What with his squeaking-taut skin, stiff muscles and aching bones. But he swore his heartbeat stopped when she wrapped her arms around his ribs. When she buried her salty tears into his collar, everything paused. Frozen in time. In the moment when her warmth was pressed against him. Where the drumbeat of her heart somehow eclipsed his own.

Looking back now, it seems almost silly how long it took him to figure it out. They knew how much trouble they'd get into sneaking into each other's barracks at night to read, study, or just talk until the candles burnt out - but they did it anyway. Sometimes they'd goof off in class just cause they knew they'd get detention together. He'd volunteer to peel apples and potatoes with her and Koala for kitchen duty. He'd drape his coat over her shoulders when she fell asleep in the library. He knew she'd always pick up his hat if he ever forgot. Or if some punk was dumb enough to try and swipe it off his head. Sabo swore she was even more protective of that hat than he was, sometimes.

She tried to brush him off when he teased her about it. But even though he could no longer see the blur of her hair on his left side - he could still hear how her callouses brushed that little tag stitched on the inside. The one with his name embroidered in small, crooked blue letters. He took that hat and shoved it atop her head.

She squawked and shoved at him, 'What the he-Sabo!'

Sabo laughed. 'Come on, why so serious, Y/N? The hat's just as much yours as it is mine. You can wear it whenever you like.'

Y/N stilled. It took him a few strides to realize he could no longer hear her boot strides beside his. He turned and looked at her. Really looked at her. There, rooted to the spot. Dust mites danced in the sunlight around her, glinting off her hair. Her face was cast in shadow beneath his hat. But her fingers clutched the brim, pale white and trembling. She knew that shiver in her grip. That warbled in her voice, even if it was just one word:

'R-really?'

The ground was swallowed beneath his feet in a matter of seconds. He clasped her shoulders, stilling her shivers. 'Really, really,' He ducked his head. Bowing down just enough so he could see the saltwater glint in her eyes. 'Besides,' he grinned. 'My stuff looks good on you.'

She snorted at that. 'I thought you were just saying this hat was ours?'

'I am,' he straightened. 'The fact that it was mine first just makes it better.'

Another indignant squawk. 'You jerk!' Sabo burst out laughing, dashing down the hall way before she could catch him. 'Hey! Get back here, you!'

Sitting around those crates of apples and potatoes, they'd poke and prod and nudge at each other. Just enough to screw with their carving job and *usually* not enough to result in injury. Then Hack would scold them or Koala would scoff at them something like 'grow up' or 'get a room, you two'. Sabo would duck his head from Hack, rubbing at the burn in his neck. Other times he'd stick his tongue out at Koala, even if he knew he was blushing. But for Y/N, the effect was immediately and vastly different.

She would sit stiff and ramrod straight. Her skin burned red from the crown of her head to the tips of her fingers. Then she'd jerk her head down. (H/c) hair falling and obscuring her face, chin tucked to her chest. Hands nimbly returning to their task with almost machine-like accuracy. Sabo's stomach always swooped at the sight, not in the good way he'd grown to like around her. This was like an icy chill washing down his spine, though he didn't know why.

When he'd turn his head to look at her, the growing darkness on his left side could nearly convince him that Koala and Hack weren't even there. That it was just the two of them. Whittling together to their heart's content. And at that moment, he knew exactly what to say to break Y/N's spell.

'Tell me about the brothers again.'

In an instant, the whole world would light up. As if by magic. Y/n would jolt to look at him. (E/c) blown wide and- and precious. He didn't know how else to describe it. Only when she searched his gaze, it was as if she were raking over his very heart. Searching every nook and cranny until - she smiled. Whether it was a dandelion, sunshine, or a supernova kind of smile, he could never help himself from smiling back. Nodding her along to make sure: go on, I'm listening.

And then off she'd go, launching into one of her infamous tales of 'The Pirate Brothers and me'. She told him about how they'd hunt together in the mountains. All their misadventures learning to beg, borrow and steal from the upper crust of Goa Kingdom. They and their little crew of wild kids saving up to sail into the great unknown. He loved how she gave each of her friends' little nicknames like 'Blondie' and 'Freckles' and 'Meathead' and laughed when she remembered their antics. Sometimes she cried for missing them. Sabo knew it was the good kind of crying, but that didn't make his chest ache any less.

It wasn't until news hit the papers that he knew exactly why.

ROGER'S SON, FIRE FIST ACE, DEAD AT MARINEFORD

The moment he read that headline and saw Fire Fist's, Portgas D, Roger D -- Ace's portrait on the front page news--the floodgates opened. Every nightmare. Every seizure. Prickling fiery pain over his skull. The aching squeak of taut skin. Stiff muscles. Fused bones. Nightsweats and feverish blurs of memory across the back of his eyes. His blind eye burned and ached. But never saw a thing any more.

The burn of water and smoke washed through his lungs. Flashes of sensation flared in his mind, behind his eyes, beneath his skin. The weight of an iron pipe, the breeze of the jungle, the light of the sun - he felt it all. Everything came crashing down at once. His knees cracked against the stone floor. His chest ached. He couldn't tell if he was set on fire or drowning. Everything was damp. He couldn't breathe. Everything within him, every fibre of his being rebelled, shocks along every nerve, pain from every thought. Ace is dead. Ace is dead. Ace is dea- Ace!

He screamed. Everything turned black.

***

27, Oct. 2023: PART 2 OUT NOW!!

#sabo x reader #sabo x y/n #sabo the revolutionary #one piece sabo #one piece #rosewolf writes #mugiwararosewolf #portgas d ace #ace one piece

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lilas · 4 years

Note

kissing prompt 8 for annie & farah?

Hello! I’m so sorry for the delay, but I hope you enjoy it! :D

Kiss Prompt – A Kiss on the Nose (please send me more!)

Pairing: Farahx f!Detective (Annie Tomás)

Word Count: ~800

Annie had a stressful week.

“–Then we couldn’t find some receipts for a stupid paper shipment! We looked everywhere for it. I had Douglas and some volunteers digging through boxes in storage, I dug through every file we had–!”

Farah sits across from Annie at their favorite table by the window. By the time they got to Haley’s Bakery, the sun already sat beneath the horizon. Now, the Square’s streetlights bathe the cobblestone street in a soft, gentle glow, and the last dregs of purple sky slink away.

“I’m not even good with numbers!” Annie says as she shoves her face into her hands. “I thought I could do it since I had the entire week but it just…slipped away from me.”

Frustration leaked into Annie’s voice though she tried to stem it by biting down on her bottom lip… a little too hard, evident by the blood that came to the surface. Farah’s breath hitches, and she can’t help but tense the slightest in her seat. The blood is swiped away by Annie’s tongue before she brings her mug to her lips.

Farah smiles at the pout her girlfriend fails to hide. “It’s okay, babe, I know you tried your best.”

“I could’ve tried harder.” Annie’s reply is mumbled. “I could’ve done better.”

“Maybe,” Farah says with a small shrug, “But it’s the weekend now and we can do whatever we want! Forget about it until Monday, okay?”

Annie doesn’t reply so Farah scoots their chairs closer together with her brightest expression.

“I think Nate said something about it snowing this weekend. You can finally show me what snow angels are–“ Farah’s cut off by Annie’s sharp, rattly intake of breath. “Annie—”

A whimper escapes Annie’s tight lips. She slaps her hands over her mouth but can’t stop her shoulders from quaking and the tears from leaking free.

“I tried so hard, Farah,” she cries, “it was due today and I couldn’t get it done! I promised Mom and everyone that I could handle this!”

“H-Hey…” Farah touches her shoulder with a tentative smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Haley throw a concerned look in their direction. Farah gives her a reassuring wave. “Rebecca isn’t worried about spending audits–”

“I promised I could handle both the station and working with the team! The town, and supernaturals, and blood drives, and spending audits! What good am I to the team if I can’t fulfill even my basic responsibilities?”

Farah bites her lip, a shimmer in her amber eyes. “I don’t–”

Annie chokes down a tear soaked sob, “What if she asks me to quit again? What if Adam asks me to quit! Oh my God, I could be fired–! It was due today!”

“Annie!” Farah seizes Annie’s shoulders, turning her in her chair so they meet each other’s eyes. “Of course they won’t! You work so hard, they’ll be dumb to even think about that.” Tenderly, Farah’s fingers wipe away treks of tears. “Adam loves you. Nate and Morgan love you. Not as much as me. Obviously…”

A laugh sputters out of Annie, and Farah grins and continues, “There’s really nothing you could do to make anyone love you less. No matter how hard you try.”

“I know,” says Annie, dabbing at her eyes with her sweater sleeve, “I’m so sorry, Farah. This is ridiculous. I know I should be stronger than this by now.”

“You don’t need to be strong, Annie. You need to be loved.” Farah presses a kiss to the tip of Annie’s nose, still wet with a few stray tears. A smile blooms across Annie’s face, her dark eyes shining. Farah can feel her heart squeeze in the most amazing way. Her words take a moment to come back to her. “And I don’t know what a “spending audit” is, but that sounds boring enough to be right up Adam’s alley. He’d love to help you.”

“He’s busy enough, he doesn’t need to…”

“Annie.”

A sigh. “I’ll ask him tomorrow.”

“Great!” Farah presses another kiss to Annie’s temple, and moves to whisper in her ear, “But until then, I know what can distract you from all that.”

“Do you?” Annie drops her voice to a low whisper with those words and a shiver shoots through Farah’s core. The flush that heats her skin spreads when Annie trails her hands up her sides. “And what are you suggesting, Agent Hauville?”

“Can’t tell you. Guess we gotta get out of here and find out.”

Annie doesn’t fight her smile that grows brighter or the fresh flush of color that paints her wet cheeks. After paying for the coffee and uneaten strawberry tart, the two women walk out hand in hand, fingers laced, and the week’s stress left mostly forgotten.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #farah hauville #twc farah #twc fics #twc detective #told you i was working on kiss prompts.....very slowly #been a hot minute since i wrote anything substantial so sorry if I do not word good #anyway....hope you enjoy tears and soft girls! :D #lilas art #oc: annie tomas

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venusiangguk · 3 years

Text

the art of wanting | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc

>>genre: strangers to lovers, smut, pwp, a lil bit of plot

>>word count: 10.3k literally why cant i write anything short ever hhhh

>>warnings: cute baby!!!, jk being a good dad, he likes to garden :(, dom jk, sub oc, age gap, handjob, coming in pants, AYOOO OC GOT A FAT COOCHIE, lowkey body worship, fat coochie supremacy, oral (m/f), safe sex, sexual tension, praise, multiple orgasms, eye contact, jk likes to watch 🥴, asking for permission, jk’s lowkey controlling i guess but it’s soft and like not toxic lol, PLAYFUL use of the word ‘daddy’, no actual daddy kink 🙄, dirty talk

>>notes: idk what it is, but something about actual dads being called ‘daddy’ in a sexy way just does not sit right w me 😐 so i did not include the d word in any sexy context sry daddie luvers, maybe next time !! anyway! late vday one shot!! didn’t turn out as good as i wanted, but i still hope you enjoy! sorry for any mistakes; this is not beta’d lol ALSO ty to @moonb0yy for helping me with parts ilysm much bestie ur the best <3

>>summary: you find a baby in your store and in turn, a dilf finds you.

series masterlist, pt 1, pt 2, pt 3

Being a grocery store stocker at the ripe young age of 22 wasn’t exactly where you thought you would be after graduating from university. You thought you’d be in a big city, living it up. The stereotypical vision of a hot, independent, young girl making money, and experiencing success. Turns out you were wrong and that you maybe kinda sorta majored in something you have literally no interest in and now have a degree that you have zero desire to use. So alas, here you are, decked out in your khaki pants and light blue polo. Non-slip shoes truly tying the whole look together.

You also didn't think you would have a small, young, baby child gripping said khakis. You look down at the tiny human and then around the empty aisle. No one in sight. You are in the junk food lane of an overpriced, organic whole foods store. The health nuts that shop here don’t usually venture into ‘artificial’ ingredient territory. Baby seems to not be so picky. You glance down at her again. Her big doe eyes blink at you a single time.

You gingerly shake your leg trying to get her off, kind of like you would to a chihuahua if it was jumping on you or humping your leg. Baby is quite resilient, hands small but very strong. She does have thumbs after all.

“Can I help you?” You ask her with a quirked brow.

She babbles for a second before her little chubby arms reach up. She makes grabby hands at you.

You look at the box of teddy bear cookies in your hand, then back at the child. You slowly extend the box to her.

“Nuuu- uw!” She says, swatting the box from your hand to the floor.

Rude.

Her grabby hands are insistent, and now she’s got a little scowl on her face. Might be close to tears? You don’t know, you don’t speak toddler.

“Listen,” You say, appeasing her and picking her up. “That was not nice, and also, you shouldn’t be talking to strangers. Where’s your mommy, hmm?”

She’s hoisted on your hip as you bounce her. Her fat little cheeks jiggle. You didn’t usually like kids, but this one was okay you supposed. She’s cute at the very least. She’s wearing the tiniest little skort with a pink shirt that has a taco on it. ‘Taco-bout cute!’ it says. She’s even got baby doc’s on, and you’re a little envious if you’re being honest. Those were expensive. Her pigtails stick straight out the sides of her head, a little lopsided, but endearing. You’re sure her mom did her best.

“Daaaaa,” She spouts.

“Yeah?” You ask. You bounce her a little harder and the sweetest little giggle gurgles from her mouth, her eyes almost disappearing from how big she’s smiling. You spy some little teeth coming in. “You’re a little rude, but I think that’s because you’re spoiled because you’re so cute, huh?” You poke her belly.

You switch to swaying her, and she coos. Rests her little head on your shoulder, one of her hands coming up to grip at your name tag.

“Hey now, don’t fall asleep. I need you to be able to identify your human. I can’t just hand you off to someone random.” You whisper, starting to walk to the customer service area so they can make an announcement over the intercom system.

As you’re making your way to the front of the store, you see a man turning the corner. A very sexy man. He’s wearing sweats, but somehow still looks clean and put together. He’s got big sneakers on his feet, could pass as dad sneakers if you didn’t know otherwise. Those two tone shoes, your brand savvy mind knows, are Balenciagas. He’s tall and so so fine, but really really frantic. He looks frazzled, and like he’s lost something very important. You look at the baby. She probably counts as something important to most people.

The man’s eyes fall on you, and then travel to the toddler in your arms. A look of relief falls over his features. He slumps and hangs his head exhaling, before he starts jogging towards you with a dazzling white smile on his face. He’s got dimples.

And this just won’t do. Nope. You’ve got two hard limits. One of them being anal.

The other being hot men that are also dads.

It’s weird you know. Your friends remind you of it whenever you swoon at seeing daddy-baby duos in public. You don’t even know what it is about it, but it just does something to your womb. Pussy? Same thing essentially.

He sighs looking at you like you have the cure to cancer in your arms as he comes face to face with you.

“That’s mine.” He says gesturing to the baby.

You hum. “Finder’s keeper’s.”

His face falls and he looks like he’s about to panic again. You laugh.

“Just kidding. But you do have to prove it. Not just gonna hand a baby to a stranger. I was just on my way to the front.”

“No! Of course, um. Nari…” He coos, getting closer. The baby doesn’t acknowledge him much, just smiles, like she’s trying to ignore him. She turns closer to your chest and babbles before letting out a happy shriek. The man smiles like he’s in awe of the tiny little human in your arms.

“Slight recognition. A good sign. Got any pictures?” You ask, shifting her to your other hip.

He nods and pulls out his phone. “She’s 18 months, she still only babbles but the doctor said she’s on the right track to talking,” He explains, trying to prove he knows all the baby facts that a dad should while swiping through his camera roll. It’s full of pictures of the baby girl. You see a selfie of him and the baby, she’s got oversized glasses on her face and the man is smiling so wide, mid-laugh. Maybe you’re dramatic but your heart literally shatters in your chest. “Absolutely hates peas, but loves butternut squash?” You glance at the hand basket hanging from his bent arm. There is indeed an assortment of baby mush in jars. “I don’t know, she’s kind of weird. Oh! Her name is Jeon Nari. Right Nari?” He sing-songs, trying to get her attention.

She reaches a plump little hand out to him, and he brings his face closer so she can reach better. She taps his cheek before she moves and grabs at his nose. She pulls her hand back with a squeal.

He gasps. “Nari! Did you take my nose?” He makes an over exaggerated shocked expression.

She turns to you and offers you her clenched fist.

You pull back, “I don’t want it.”

She giggles, turning back to her dad.

“Can I have it back Miss. Nari? Please?”

Miss. Nari. You’re going to pass away.

Nari looks like she thinks about it before she all but flings herself from your grip to his arms. They are both laughing, and you feel like you’re third wheeling when you see her place her open mouth on his cheek, giving a kiss in the gross, adorable way that babies do. Not wanting to interrupt, you go back to stocking junk food.

“Thank you.” He says softly.

You turn to look at him, and he’s got the baby on his hip, hand under her little diapered butt. She’s holding his thumb in her hand, resting on his chest. His strong dad chest.

“No problem. Maybe don’t lose your baby again though.” Or maybe do, so I can find her and find you by association.

He blushes. “I swear I’m a good dad. It’s just- The baby food is on the very bottom shelf, so I had to put her down to crouch and get it. And I swear. She can’t talk yet, but missy can toddle. Very fast.”

You look at her for a moment and then just laugh. “She seems like the type to get what she wants, and if she wants to run through the grocery store?” You shrug. “Who are you to stop her? Daddy or not.”

You swear you don’t mean it in a sexy way. But his blush moving farther down his neck is satisfying.

He clears his throat. “Uh- Yeah. My fault. She’s a little spoiled.” He rubs his hand over the nape of his neck, bashful. Nari makes a noise of complaint. He gives her his hand back. She kicks gleefully in his hold.

“Anyway,” You say, “You’re welcome.”

He offers you a small smile before turning to his daughter. “Say ‘thank you’ baby.”

She glances as you and her face lights up. “Ba buuuuu!”

You coo. “You are very welcome sweet girl.” You say getting to her level. “Don’t give Daddy too hard of a time, okay?”

To yours and her dad’s surprise, she leans forward in his hold and places her little hands on your face, leaning into breathe on you with an open mouth in her baby kiss way. Her dad makes a surprised noise.

“Oop, sorry. She really likes you.” He chuckles leaning away.

You stare at him a little wide eyed, baby slobber on your forehead.

He laughs harder and reaches his arm out. He wipes the spit off with the back of his hand. You both still, seeming to realize you’re having skin to skin contact at the same time. He drops his hand in a jerky manner.

You both stare at each other, and you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker over your body, like he’s trying to refrain but curiosity or perhaps desire gets the best of him. You don’t know, but you hope it’s because he wants.

He looks like he’s gonna say something more, but Nari has other plans. Dinner plans if the way she’s wiggling in his arms towards the basket while gurgling unhappily means anything.

“Ah, looks like it’s dinner time. Thanks again…” He looks at you expectantly.

“___.” You say, pointing to your name tag.

He smiles and his eyes crinkle. “I’m Jeongguk.” He jumbles Nari a little, she shakes her head and grumbles before burying her face in his neck. He rolls his eyes. “You know her. She’s appreciative, just hungry.”

“I understand. Have a good night Jeongguk.”

“See you later, ___.”

You watch him go, eyes traveling down to his toned back down to his cute butt. He catches you staring when he turns back and gives you a small wave and a smile. You play it cool. Gotta play it cool with cool dads.

~~~

Another day, another can on a shelf.

Also, another baby grabbing your khakis.

Well, not another baby. It’s the same baby. Little Nari.

“Why, hello there,” You coo, picking her up. “Where’s daddy? Or mommy?” You say puzzled. “Do you have one of those? Please say no.”

She stares at you dumbly. She has a single sprout with a bow atop her head today.

You look around for her dad and see him peeking around the corner. Like he sent Nari to you and is waiting for her to do something. He sees you looking at him and sighs before he starts walking towards you. He’s in baggy jeans with tears in the thighs, along with an oversized crew neck today. You gulp. Dilf aisle 2.

“She messed up.” He says on arrival.

“Huh? No, she could never do anything wrong,” You say shielding her defensively. “Could you, Nari?”

She rubs her full fist on her belly. “Na na.”

You both look at her endeared albeit confused before Jeongguk speaks up.

“You’re right.” He amends. “But she was supposed to give you your gift.” He gestures to one of her full hands.

She’s fisting a paci in one and a small succulent in the other.

You eye them before slowly looking at him. “Which one is for me?”

He gives you a closed lip smile, shoulders shaking as he tries not to laugh.

Although seeing Jeongguk smile and laugh and turn the prettiest shade of red because of you is satisfying, you give him a break and turn to Nari. “Can I have that?” You ask gently.

She looks at you, and then at the succulent before promptly turning it upside down.

“Nari!” Jeongguk gasps. He reaches out and takes it from her before more than just a little dirt falls to the ground.

You laugh, and Nari squeals at you. She looks at Jeongguk almost as if asking if she did something right. Once again, he’s trying to hold in laughter.

“Da!” She says pointing at you.

“Here, let’s switch,” He says, taking the baby human from you and in exchange offering you a baby plant.

“What’s this for?” You ask. You can’t keep plants alive for shit, but it’s cute and thoughtful.

“For finding this one last time.” He says rubbing his nose on hers. She blows a raspberry. He makes a disgusted yet adored face. Dads and their babies man.

“Thanks, sorry in advance if I kill it.”

“Succulents are pretty low maintenance. Just moderate sunlight and watering like once a week.” He’s got his hip cocked, with Nari settled in the curve of it and you consciously have to avert your eyes from how trim and lithe it looks.

“You’d be surprised at how not self-sufficient I am.”

He hums.

“So, she’s two?” You ask, placing the plant on a shelf so you can get back to stocking.

“She’s 18 months.” He replies.

“So basically 2.”

He makes a contemplative face. “Eh… 18 months.”

You give him a look. “You’re one of those dads?”

He’s smiling and makes an affrontive noise. “Hey, she’s only a baby once. I’m not gonna rush her!”

“Baaa!” Nari agrees.

“Yeah, tell her baby!” He encourages.

He’s so sweet and hot and such a good dad. And he has to be successful and well off, you just know it. Groceries here were not cheap. You can feel it in the way your lower heartbeat goes crazy when you see him. You’re basically drooling right in front of him. But you have to keep it cool.

“And how old is Daddy?”

Not your coolest. You’ll admit that.

You don’t even have a daddy kink. You just like his reactions. Mostly.

Jeongguk cackles, head falling back and Nari looks at him with his copy pasted doe-eyes before she does the same. Her flexible little baby bones allow her to almost bend in half. Jeongguk cradles a big hand under her head and helps her back up, still laughing to himself softly. He adjusts her shirt so her round tummy isn’t exposed. She’s a lady, after all. She’s gotta be decent.

“I’m 29,” He says once his laughter has subsided some. “And you?” He asks.

“You wanna know how old I am?”

He nods on a hum. “I’m curious.”

“And why would you be curious about my age, hmm?” You tease.

Jeongguk flushes and rolls his eyes playfully. Giving you a look that says, You know why.

You both know why.

“Humor me.” He bargains.

“I’m 22.” You tell him simply.

“Oh thank god.” He groans under his breath. Still a bit of a gap, he thinks. He still feels a little creepy but at least you're not in your teens still. And also it’s not like this… tension is going to amount to anything more than exactly that, because he will not actively pursue someone who is 7 years younger than him. Even if you are hot and keep calling him the forbidden d word.

Nari looks at him concerned. “Daaaa?” She offers him her paci. He raises his hand to decline.

“I’m okay thank you, that’s yours.” He pops it in her mouth and she immediately slumps against him, rubbing her face in his shirt. Must be sleepy. He turns back to you. “Thanks for moving the baby food by the way.”

You think back to a week or so ago when you were restocking the baby aisle. Maybe you did reorganize a whole entire shelf for a random dilf you talked to once. Not your strongest moment but you justified it by reminding yourself that it genuinely didn’t make sense that the baby food was on the bottom shelf when something less imperative to a baby’s health could be. Like the $67 baby wipe warmer, or the equally pricy turtle bath thermometer. You would like to believe that Jeongguk was perfectly capable of figuring out if the water was right for baby with his hand and common sense.

You turn a little red, embarrassed. You sniff. “You don’t know that was me.”

“Ah, well I just have a feeling.” He drones while smiling softly and resting his cheek on the top of Nari’s head, looking at you. That’s when he seems to realize his baby is nodding off. “Hey missy.” He jostles her a little and she looks up blearily, confused and dazed, just having been on the cusp of a dreamland. “Don’t fall asleep, Mommy will be mad if I drop you off fresh from a nap because you,” He boops her nose and she swats at his hand with an unhappy grunt. She is absolutely rotten. “will keep her up all night, and I will have to hear all about it in angry texts.”

You should mind your business, but you’re nosy and this is actually important information.

“Mommy?” You pretend to focus on the cans you’re stocking, trying to go for causal and nonchalant.

He takes a deep breath and the sighs. “Yup. We alternate weeks. Hers starts today. I’m here just restocking baby’s stuff. I like to send her off with extra so mom doesn’t have to worry.”

Valuable, important information indeed.

“That’s really nice of you.” You say genuinely.

He nods, thoughtfully. “The least I could do. It’s already hard enough on this one, jumping around so much when she’s so little.” You can hear a small trace of sadness and guilt in his voice.

“Hey,” you start, “that set up is a lot better than being in a house with parents that don’t get along. I think you’re a good dad.” You finish feeling a little silly. Like your opinion mattered. You’re 22 trying to console a sexy 29-year-old father.

He regards you quietly for a moment before he breaks out into a smile. “Wanna know something funny I do whenever I send her off?”

You nod, already chuckling a little.

He points to her belly. Nari looks down confused. “I always give her to her Mom in clothes like this.”

She’s wearing a teal shirt that says ‘Daddy’s Girl ♡’ in big pink letters. You poke her tummy, and she gives the cutest most infectious baby giggles before lifting her shirt to show you her tummy. You squeeze it a little before she squirms and pulls her shirt back down clutching at her dad and giving him a slobbery, giggly, baby kiss.

You full on laugh, giving him a round of applause. Funny and petty. “That’s so good.” You pause debating on whether or not to ask what you’re thinking. You do anyway. “Bad break up?”

“Divorce actually.” He muses, adjusting Nari. “I mean we’re cordial for baby, but I wouldn’t say we are friends.” He thinks for a minute, “Although this is petty,” He gestures to her shirt again, “I mostly just do it because her mom gets annoyed and it’s funny and it makes it so I cry less when I drop her off. It’s not malicious.” He laughs a little to himself.

Such. A. Good. Dad. Your heart is weeping. Something else is also wet. But it’s not your fault. It’s his. Before you can reply he’s speaking up again.

“But on that note. I do have to actually shop and get her going. Thanks again for finding her that one day, don’t forget to water that.” He says nodding to the little plant on the shelf.

“Guess you’ll have to remember to remind me.” You say, smiling slyly.

“Guess so,” He says with a soft grin. “See you around. Say ‘bye bye’ Nari.”

“Ba ba!” She says clenching her small hand in a wave of some sort.

They turn to continue their shopping, and you can’t resist it when you say, “Don’t cry too much Daddy!”

Jeongguk’s steps falter before you see his shoulders shake with laughter.

Without turning around, he says, “You gotta stop calling me that!” You can hear the smile in his voice.

He turns the corner, and you go back to stocking, reminding yourself to not forget your baby succulent at the end of your shift.

~~~

You’re not made to work the register often. But when you do? It’s always as awful as the last. Having to deal with people and their coupons, or their questions, or their card declining really just isn’t how you want to spend an 8 hour shift. And you always contemplate quitting. Every single time.

Except this time.

Jeongguk places his items on the belt, and you can’t help but stare.

He’s got 3 red bull’s, 1 step ladder, some mangoes, and a bottle of plum wine. It’s an interesting assortment, and you have to ask, “Whatcha doin?” as you ring the items up.

“Hi,” He says with that heart stopping, jaw dropping smile of his. “I’m decorating the second bedroom in my house. Bout time Nari moves out.”

You chuckle and nod to yourself. “No baby this week?”

He shakes his head. “Hence the bottle of wine.”

“Nice,” you say as you close off your lane. The man behind Jeongguk scowls at you, but you simply smile and wave goodbye, sending him a couple lanes over. You’ve decided it’s time for your break. “Does it have a theme?”

Jeongguk looks between you and your closed lane as he pockets his card. It’s one of those sleek cards that are thick and heavy. The kind that just feel rich. Like when you see someone use it you just know they are doing well in life. He’s super casual today, workout shorts and a long sleeve shirt on his body. You wish you could see his legs better. He’s worn pants every other time that you’ve seen him.

Leaning against your lane he nods. “Yeah, kind of. I like plants and like gardening or whatever. I work a lot and it’s therapeutic and Nari likes playing in the dirt.” He waves his hand dismissively, “Anyway! Little one has to at least like flowers by default. So, I think I want a forest theme? I want to add mushrooms somehow because I found the cutest little mushroom stool at a secondhand store. Also, maybe some faeries.” He nods to himself. “I’ve already got the new furniture and everything. It’s a circular bed that kind of looks like a tree trunk, well not kind of- it actually looks like a tree and then these lamps that hang and look like those droopy flowers that faeries wear as hats? You know, the bell looking ones? Anyway, I also- ”

You’re smiling really wide when he looks at you. He turns a little red. “Sorry,” he says. “This is probably the last thing you want to hear about at work.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, no. I was just thinking that of course she’s gotta like plants. Her name does mean ‘lily’.”

Jeongguk winces, pastes a faux look of guilt on his face. “Ah- That was a little selfish on my part.” He starts to roll up his sleeve. “My birth flower is a lily. I got this for her.”

When Jeongguk’s sleeve is properly rolled up, not only do you see a beautifully done tattoo of a lily flower, but you also see a whole entire sleeve covering his fair skin. Your eyes rake up and down his forearm and you have a horrible feeling that the sleeve continues all the way up his arm. He’s even got knuckle tattoos; you have no idea how you didn’t notice before. You blame Nari.

You swallow audibly. “That’s so hot.” It comes out sounding like a wheeze.

“Huh?” Jeongguk says with a surprised laugh.

You panic. “I said, that’s so… thought. Thoughtful. I think your tattoo is so thoughtful.”

He laughs for a second longer before humming. “Thank you. But I’ll let you enjoy your break. I have to go get paint and wallpaper still, then I have to get straight to work. I procrastinated so I only have the weekend to get it done before she comes back.”

You’re biting your lip in thought when he starts to walk away. Something that could be very embarrassing on the tip of your tongue. Are you sure you’re ready for potential rejection dished out by the incredibly hot dilf? What if he stops coming to the store and you can’t even ogle him anymore? Or play with his cute baby? You take a deep breath.

“Wait! Jeongguk!”

He stops and looks at you over his shoulder, throwing you a questioning gaze.

“Do you- want help?”

The look on his face would be comical and you would laugh at him if you could get a proper breath in around the nervous butterflies fluttering around in your chest cavity. He’s turned himself all the way around to look at you properly and he quite literally is just standing there. In the middle of the exit walkway.

“You wanna help me decorate my daughter’s room?” He confirms.

You nod. “Yes. I do. I get off in a couple hours.”

Jeongguk feels his hands get a little sweaty. Maybe he’s kinda old, and maybe it’s been a while since he’s been in the game, but he’s almost positive that the… pull that’s between you both that’s been nagging at him isn’t innocent, and that if it manifested in his empty house where he is alone with you… it could potentially lead to his complete and utter demise. A little stilted flirting and smothering tension in the dry goods aisle was fine and good every couple weeks or so… but he meant it when he placed those imaginary boundaries between you two. The ones you don’t know about. The ones he put in place to ensure he won’t pursue someone so much younger. That means there’s only one answer to your question.

“Yeah. I would love your help.”

The answer being that he’s just going to practice really great self-control. He’s going to be an adult. He’s a dad! He’s like a pro at keeping his cool and being responsible! There’s no way he would break the rules he’s set for himself.

Everything will be fine.

~~~

Everything was not fine.

You’re in his house and you’re not in your uniform. You’re in the tiniest pair of black soffe shorts he has ever seen, along with a fitted white v neck that lets the zipper of your sports bra peek out. The sports bra that is working very, very hard. Your tits did not look that big under the work polo, nor did your waist look so small. You reach on your tippy toes to mark off a higher area of the wall with blue masking tape. Your shirt lifts up and a twinkle catches his eye. There’s a jeweled heart dangling from your belly button. How cute. And how fucking awful for his sanity.

Now Jeongguk’s not stupid. He really isn’t. He was on the Dean’s List in university, has his own company now. He’s smart and he has critical thinking skills. Yet somehow, he didn’t think about how you wouldn’t be showing up in your polo and khakis. Of course, you wouldn’t that would be stupid. Just like Jeongguk apparently.

“I think a faerie should go here.” You say pointing up to the marked spot. You smile at him expectantly. He smiles back, although it looks more like a grimace.

“Don’t forget there’s going to be a tree playhouse in that corner.” He reminds.

You hum. “Oh, maybe we- or you should put some of the vines you got on the wall? Kind of like ivy?” You bend over to pick up one of the long leaf garlands.

Jeongguk’s face lights up, temporarily refocused by your idea. He could not be blamed if his eyes wandered when you bent down. He simply could not, any man would have succumbed to such a sight.

“That’s a such a good idea, here.” He says reaching for the leaves. “I’ll start tacking them up.”

You shake your head. “I can do it. Where’s the step stool?”

And that’s how you find yourself a few feet above him. Rich, successful people and their high ceilings. Jeongguk’s got his hands extended up and out, hovering over your hips, acting as a safety for you just in case you fall. His eyes are obnoxiously respectful, averted and looking away as if the sage green walls are a better sight than your ass in his face. His extended hands give you an idea though.

What if you just… fall?

You look at the distance between you and the floor once before committing and kamikazeing off the ladder. You’d like to think that you fall gracefully into his waiting arms. The grunt he lets out, and how hard his back hits the wall behind you tells you otherwise. Good thing the paint is dry.

“Oof.” He breathes out, hands tight on your waist. His head falls back, and his eyes squeeze shut as he tries to catch his breath.

He braced your fall so you’re okay, just content in his arms as he recovers from getting the wind knocked out of him. Your hands are resting on his chest. His body is warm, and he smells good.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” He says once he can breathe properly. “You’re not hurt, are you?” His eyes look overly concerned, probably acting as he would if Nari fell. Dad instincts taking over as he lifts your arms to inspect them, bending them to make sure they still work. He looks like he’s about to take a look at your legs, but you stop him.

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” You giggle. You place your hands on his cheeks and make him look at you. He’s got a surprised look on his face and you can feel how his cheeks heat up under your touch. Seems kind of on edge with you touching him. “Are you okay?” You ask quietly, a smile still lingering. Your hand runs from his cheek to his jaw, down to his neck. Your thumb just grazes his Adam's apple when he swallows and licks his lips. “You’re the one that caught me.” You tilt your head while you look up at him.

“I…” He starts.

But he doesn't finish because all he can focus on is the hand that was on his neck, slowly dragging down his shoulder, down his arm, then back up to rest on his bicep. It’s a simple, gentle touch, but the intentions behind your movements are salacious. He knows because the desire in the air has skyrocketed, he’s sure he could touch it if he could even bring himself to lift a hand.

“I’m good- I’m okay.” He whispers, frigid in your hold, like he’s scared to move. Like if he does what he should want, but doesn’t, you’ll vanish like one of the faeries on the wall.

“Are you sure?” Your tone matches his, and you look at him with wide puppy eyes, brows etched with exaggerated worry. “I know you’re like- really strong,” The hand you have resting on his upper arm squeezes for emphasis. “But maybe I should check? Just to make sure?”

And fuck, he knows what you’re doing. He sees it written all over your face. The faux concern. The fake way you’re fretting over him. He feels it in the way your body inches closer to him, the heat radiating off of you just on the pleasant side of too hot. Your acrylics scratch at the nape of his neck and he can’t stop the chills that run down his arms.

“You don’t have to do that I-”

You’re on your toes, trying to reach his ear. He’s still too tall so you settle on whispering into his neck, “I want to.”

Jeongguk’s eyes close so tight he starts to see those little white spots burst behind his lids. The whine that escapes from the back of his throat sounds distressed and pained, like he’s fighting with himself.

“__…” He says quietly. Just shy of pleading. Or maybe he’s warning. Warning you that you’re about to cross a line neither of you can go back from. It makes you smile.

“Please,” You beg back. You press your body fully to his, boobs flush against his torso, hips angled against his. “Please tell me I can.” The hand that was at his nape slowly trails down to his torso, down his stomach. His abs tense underneath his long sleeve shirt, and he’s got his head turned away from you, like he’s battling with his cock and his morals.

You press a soft kiss to his neck, and he shudders, the hands on your hips tighten like he doesn’t know if he wants to push you away or pull you closer. You place a hand on his jaw, then guide him to look at you. He comes easy enough and looks down his nose at you, eyes hooded, and brows furrowed.

“It’s okay to want this,” You murmur. “It’s okay to want me.”

His eyes shut, and he lets out a sigh. You feel him just barely press into your palm. “You’re just- I’m so much older than you… I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

You laugh a little. “You’re not, I want this. I’ve wanted this.” You press your lips to his neck again and pull a little bit of skin between your teeth before smiling into him. “I’ve thought about it so much… I’m a big girl, I know what I want. Plus, it’s just a little bit of fun.” Your fingertips on his lower belly play with the top of his shorts. “So, can I have it?”

And Jeongguk can’t say no, not when you sound like that. Not when his cock is already hard and straining against his briefs. Not when your touch makes him crazy, not when it’s the first one he’s felt other than his own in months.

So, he gives in. He nods and just like that, your hand slips into his shorts over his briefs and it’s good. So mind-numbingly good. The moan that falls from his lips as soon as your palm brushes over the head of his cock over the fabric is lewd and loud and so relieved. His head falls back against the wall, and his eyes flutter shut while you pump him over his Calvin’s, mouth parted slightly. His breaths go up in pitch at the tail end of his sighs, the softest moans filling the air.

You rub your thighs together as you watch him succumb to pleasure, bottom lip pulled between your teeth.

“You sound even hotter than I thought you would.” You say quietly. Your hand travels farther down between his legs to fondle his balls. He gasps softly and spreads his legs wider for you, angling his hips so you can touch him better. You hum and move back up to stroke him.

“Feel good?” You ask.

He laughs lightly and nods. “Yeah… so good.” He swallows. “‘S been awhile.”

You grin to yourself and look down. You can’t see much, really just touching in a way you think could be pleasing to him. It seems to be working a little bit at least, because in your palm, Jeongguk is so hard. His cock is thick, and long. It’s pulsing, twitching sometimes when you touch him just right.

Almost as if he can read your mind, he settles his big, tattooed hand over your small one, urging you to grip just a touch tighter, speed up just a little more.

“Like that,” He moans.

It’s not been long at all, but you can tell he’s close. The way he gets impossibly harder in your palm, and the damp patch that you feel every time your brush over the tip, are complete giveaways. He inhales deep breaths through his teeth, chest heaving before he sighs out shaky moans and groans.

“How long’s it been?” You’re nosy as usual. Your hand speeds up, pressing a little rougher into him.

“Since the divorce so… 8? 9 months? Wait I-” He pauses, breaths coming out in accelerated little puffs. The hand he has over yours squeezes tightly, trying to halt your movements. His cock jumps in his underwear. “Slow- I’ll cum.” He chuckles softly, a little embarrassed.

Your pussy throbs, and you know there’s a wet patch in your panties. You speed your hand up against his hold. He whines, squirming in your hand just a little. “Yeah?” you breathe. “You gonna cum for me, Jeongguk?”

Jeongguk’s breathing is coming out in shattered exhales and when you bite at his neck he gasps. He wonders if you’re being playful like you’ve always been, or if you’re just as worked up as him, biting to release the tension boiling just under your skin.

“Please,” He says, so wrecked. He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for. Does he want you to stop before he soaks his pants like a horny teen? Or does he want you to keep going, so he can finally finish in a hand that’s not his own?

Jeongguk doesn’t feel like he has a choice as his orgasm rushes him. His mind is far away, and all reason is out the door, cumming the only thing at the forefront of his mind. He presses your palm into his cock hard and ruts up into it, his hips stuttering and thrusts erratic as he spills into his briefs, hot and wet against your hand.

He doesn’t warn you at all, cums quietly in your palm. Body so tense, and face so obscene he looks like he’s in pain, like he came so hard that it hurt. You know your pussy aches.

Once Jeongguk catches his breath, you're whipped around and pressed into the wall, taking his place. His lips meet yours instantly and before you can even kiss back, he’s already moving all over your body. Tiny kiss marks glistening here, there, everywhere. Your collarbones are decorated, as well as your cleavage. He toys with the zipper of your sports bra, looks like he’s thinking about pulling but ends up moving past it. One track mind, taking over.

He settles on his knees, big hands roaming over your shirt before slipping underneath with a quick glance at you. He grips a little here, a little there. It’s like he’s admiring the curve at your waist, the dips of your hip bones. Every inch he can get his hands on.

He pushes your shirt up to under your tits, and begins placing his soft, wet kisses all over again. His hands keep moving too, making goosebumps form all over your tummy. You feel him smile into your skin once he notices. He dips his tongue into your belly button making you giggle out a gasp. He bites at the dangling charm pulling just a little bit, before letting go and giggling with you.

“I love this… ‘s cute.” He says.

You mumble a tiny thanks, as he nips at the softest part of your lower belly, right above the elastic of your shorts.

He rests his chin where he bit just a moment before, looking up at you, pretty doe eyes sparkling. “Can I?” He asks.

You wiggle a little under his gaze but nod, nonetheless.

When your shorts and underwear hit the floor Jeongguk lets out the littlest gasp. You feel his fingers come up and settle on your hips caressing softly again, while his eyes are trained on your cunt. He licks his lips absently.

“It’s so cute…” He says. He sounds a little awestruck as he brings his fingers down to stroke over the smooth, plump lips of your pussy. He pinches them between his thumb and index finger, and a little bit of your slick oozes out, leaving you shiny and glossy.

Typically, you wouldn't compare your cunt to something from the ocean, but it really was like a little clam. Your pussy lips the shell, and your clit a small little pink pearl tucked perfectly inside.

He sighs as he leans in and presses a gentle kiss just above your slit. Your breath stutters as you breathe in, looking down at him. He keeps kissing gently, slowly but surely moving where you want him most, but you're impatient, already trembling from how bad you want his mouth.

Your hips buck when you feel his mouth on your lips over your clit. All he needs to do is slip his tongue right there…

“Please,” You whine, so so quietly.

But he hears you. And he groans, from deep within his chest, and you can see him bring a hand down to press at his cock. He sounds pained, overwhelmed as he rests his forehead on your belly. “Fuck don’t beg. I’ll give you whatever you want just-” He pecks your mound quickly, one more time. “Don’t beg.”

He suspires and finally fulfills your request. His tongue disappears between your plush little folds, the tip of it licking over your clit. You gasp at the first feel of his tongue on you, mouth falling open while you watch him. He looks up at you, eyes hazy and full of desire, shining with such obvious lust and adoration.

The way he looks at you, like you’re something more than sexual tension finally coming to a head, makes you dizzy. You squirm looking away for a moment. His eyes are too tender for the filthy atmosphere around you, too tender for the reality of your situation.

When you look down at him again, you brush some hair out of his eyes, hand settling in the long strands. His eyes flutter shut, and he kind of pushes into your hold before he blinks up at you, a sultry look on his face, eyes hooded and dark. You see him smile softly, a soft laugh puffing against you before he nips at your mons lightly. Then his tongue is lazily slipping between your slit giving long, slow, filthy licks to your clit. He’s already got the thick, hot feeling of arousal curling in your tummy.

Your free hand comes down and you slip your fingers between your folds, spreading yourself open with your index and ring finger, while pulling your hood back with the middle one, revealing your clit to him. Showing him exactly where you want him.

Again, he looks at your pussy like it's the prettiest, most lush thing he’s ever seen. He brings his hand up and rubs over your nub with a single finger, looking up once more to see how your eyelashes kiss your cheeks as your eyes flutter closed and your brows pinch.

“It’s so tiny…” he presses a little harder, rubs a little faster. “I’ve heard that the smaller it is, the more sensitive?” He phrases it like a question. “Is that true?”

“I think?” It comes out airy and distracted. You don’t really know. Makes sense you suppose. More nerves in a smaller area. But you don’t care at the moment.

He hums. “I think so too… Just look at you.”

You grip his hair pulling just the slightest amount. Not demanding, just suggesting… hoping.

“Lick it?” You whisper, voice salacious and pleading.

He holds your gaze and does as you ask, licking softly, almost teasing. His head moves in a nodding motion as his tongue repeatedly grazes over your exposed clit, you can feel his breath hot against your fingers. It’s soft and slow, and just not enough. You whine as you roll your hips to meet his tongue and it’s pornographic, the way you can see a little string of spit and slick still connecting you together right before his tongue meets your clit again.

“Point your tongue… faster- yeah flick it… fuck,” you whimper. It’s airy and the lust you’re feeling is tangible, just pouring from you. From your lips, your pussy. Your head falls back hitting the wall behind you. You’re sighing and nodding. Encouraging him, letting him know that yes, right there, that’s perfect.

The way your orgasm builds takes you by surprise. It starts as that gentle simmer curling in your belly and grows until it’s that sharp pleasure in your chest, taking your breath away. You normally can’t cum just from someone’s mouth, usually needing fingers as well, but Jeongguk’s tongue is magic and the way he suctions gently, making little pulsing sensations with his lips, is ruining you and your legs are starting to shake.

“Please… please make me cum,” You beg. “I’m so close Jeongguk please.”

He groans and the vibrations thrum, heavenly against you as you watch his eyes roll back. His hands grip at your ass and pull you closer to his mouth.

“Fuck baby watch me. Look at me while you fall apart on my tongue.” He moans quickly against your cunt. The pet name that accidentally slips from his lips makes you buzz.

And you do. You look at him and his tongue working wet and nasty against you; it’s the only thing he needs to wreck you. You watch as long as you can until the pleasure is too much and the string in you snaps, eyes falling shut as you moan out a litany of praises full of yes’s and his name. You cum, writhing against the wall.

Jeongguk’s on his feet and you’re off of yours, his hands coming up to cup your ass and hoist you against the wall. Your hands wrap around his neck, legs around his waist, and you smile at him as you regulate your breathing. He kisses you, and you whine when you taste yourself on his tongue.

“I wanna- can I fuck you?” He whispers against your lips, between eager kisses. He presses into you, making you feel how hard he is again. You wonder if it even went down after he came.

“Please,” you say nodding.

He nips at your jaw and you feel his smile as he places a peck to soothe. “What did I say about begging?”

You’re about to reply but gasp instead as you feel him move away from the wall to carry you effortlessly through his home. It’s big and modern, spacious with minimalistic decor, sprinkled with baby stuff here and there. You feel the plush cushion of his bed under you some moments later. He’s over you in an instant, licking into your mouth once again, body molding to yours. He rolls his hips a few times when you wrap your legs around his waist, before pulling away, your lips are the last thing to part, like he can’t get enough for you.

“I’ll be right back,” he says. Another light kiss is given before he disappears into what you assume is the bathroom.

You figure he’s cleaning up the mess he made earlier and probably getting condoms. You glance at the crib by the side of his bed that has yet to be removed. Hopefully, he’s getting condoms. If not, you think you have one in your bag.

You busy yourself by getting ready for him, taking your shirt and bra off leaving you completely nude. You flop back onto his bed and stretch your arms out, it’s big enough that you can starfish and not have your hands or feet hang off. It smells like a subdued, softer version of him. Less fragrant and cologne-y and more clean and gentle, like laundry detergent and the little trace of body wash that lingers on his skin after a shower. It’s earthy, and kind of feminine. You roll over and shove your face in his pillow, inhaling deeply. Sandalwood you think. You know you don’t have much time when you hear the faucet shut off, and drawers being rummaged through, so you settle on to your back again, lazily running your fingers over your body, waiting for him.

The bathroom opens and Jeongguk walks out, naked as well. He’s stroking himself slowly as he strides towards you, his other hand full of the goods. Your eyes zero in on his cock. Out of his briefs you can clearly see just how big he is. You gulp.

He climbs onto the bed and settles between your legs again when you open easily for him. You run your hands over his body, feeling the ripples of his muscles running under his skin. Fingertips touch at the ink on his shoulder. You were right, a full sleeve.

He’s looking at you, searching your face, hand brushing gently at your hair. “You still wanna?”

You don’t hesitate to nod. “Mhmm.” You sit up and peck his lips sweetly. “Please,” You tease with a smile.

He rolls his eyes playfully and sits back on his heels, reaching for the condom that he set aside. There’s a bottle of lube next to it. You sigh internally, grateful and knowing you’re going to need it.

You crawl in front of him.

He places a hand on your head, making you stop abruptly and laugh on all fours.

“I won’t last if you blow me.” He says.

You pout, then mirror his position in front of him. “Can I put it on for you, then?”

He quirks a brow, but hands the foil packet to you, only to get it back when you have trouble opening it due to your nails. You smile sheepishly at him and kiss him sweetly when he hands it to you again. You stroke his bare cock just a few times, eyes on his face when he hisses at the feel of your hand on him without any clothes in the way. You can’t help yourself; you lean down and lick at the shiny, dripping tip, swirling your tongue around the head. You flick your tongue, and stroke, his foreskin rolling over, as his eyes roll back. His hips buck just barely, before you feel a hand in your hair pulling you up.

He’s laughing and presses his face into your cheek. “You don’t listen well, do you? Hmm?”

You pull away just enough to look down and place the condom at the tip of his cock, pinching just a little at the top as you slowly roll it down his length. “I just know what I want.” you whisper, tongue in cheek. His thighs tense and he takes a sharp breath, mirroring you and looking down.

With your hand on him, the apprehension starts to set in. He’s thick. And long. Your hands are small, barely able to wrap around the girth.

“Fuck…” He whispers. He grabs your other hand and places it on his cock as well, one on top of the other, his pink tip still sticking out the top. “Your hands look so good around me.”

You stroke him with both hands, slowly over the condom. “You’re- like the biggest I’ve ever seen.”

Jeongguk must hear the nervous tone your voice has taken because he places his hands on your face and has you look at him. Your hands don’t leave him, anxious but still eager. “I’ll go slow, and if you need me to stop I will. Just tell me.” He kisses you again, and you nod against his lips before falling back onto his pillows.

The lubes within reach so you grab it and drizzle some onto your fingers before bringing them down and rubbing over your opening. You’re wet already, of course, but you’re gonna need all the help you can get with him. You know it won’t be that bad, and that your body will do what it’s supposed to. You think that maybe it is a mix of being with someone new, someone that you’ve been wanting, as well as his size that has you on edge. When Jeongguk finds his way between your legs, you drizzle some lube onto his cock as well, stroking to make sure he is thoroughly covered before lining him up. You take a deep breath.

Jeongguk’s patient. When the swollen tip of his cock slips in all he does is furrow his brow and drop his mouth open, keeping control and resisting the instinctual urge to bury himself inside of your warm, tight, soaking cunt. He’s over you braced on his forearms, head hanging, watching his engorged cock slip into you little by little, your fat pussy lips pillowing around his girth. He flicks his eyes up to you when he reaches the thickest part of his cock. A worried wrinkle forms between his brows.

For good reason. It hurts. You feel annoying pricks of tears sting your eyes. A little whimper passes your lips when he pushes in another inch more.

“So big, Gguk,” You whisper. Your hands are on his back, digging in trying to focus on the give of his muscles when you press your nails into his skin.

He’s quick, kissing on your face gently, telling you that you’re doing so well, and that it’s almost over, and that he's almost in. He brings a hand between your bodies and rubs at your clit, slowly, trying to distract you from the sting as best he can.

It works. His fingers are skilled, and you want him so badly despite the little ache, and then he’s inside of you. He’s buried to the hilt, and you both sigh into each other’s mouths.

“I need a second now,” He laughs on a whisper. “You’re so tight, feel so good around me.” He coos, praising you. Letting you know just how good you did. His face is in your neck, kissing, sucking little pink flowers into your skin. His hands come up to your tits once he’s settled back on his knees, and he squeezes them, jiggles them lightly.

He drools at how they rest into soft circles as you lay on your back beneath him. He pulls out a few inches before pushing back in slowly, biting his lip when he sees them bounce before pillowing back into place. He does it a few more times, making quiet moans fall from your lips.

With Jeongguk inside of you, you can understand how he knocked someone up. His stroke is so good and skilled, making you feel every inch of him every time he makes your hips meet. Pussy swallowing his cock, wet and slick. You never want him to leave, never want him to stop fucking you. Want to wrap your legs around him and keep him inside of you forever. The sting of the stretch has long subsided, his cock now satisfyingly sliding against your sensitive walls, filling you up so well, the tip kissing your g spot every time he angles his hips just right.

“You feel so fucking good,” He moans. He’s looking down at where his hips are now slamming into you with long steady plunges. One leg is wrapped around his waist, the other pushed back, resting on his shoulder. “‘M gonna make you cum,” He tells you. Looking at you, holding eye contact, watching every little shift in your features as pleasure courses through your veins. “Just from my cock.” The pace he plunges into you is fast, strokes consistent and long, as his hair swings around his face with every thrust. “On every part of me. With my tongue and my cock in your little pussy today, my fingers next time.” He continues, kissing you softly. The juxtaposition between his sweet actions and filthy words makes your cunt pulse around him. “Does that sound good baby? Hmm? Do you want that?”

You nod desperately. “Yeah, wanna fuck you all the time. Love your fat cock, Jeongguk.” You’ve got a hand clawing into his back, another raised over your head, so you don’t hit the headboard due to the force of his thrusts.

Jeongguk groans, and shudders. His cock throbs, you can feel it jerk inside you. He slows for just a moment before he picks back up again, faster and harder and deeper. “Fuck, look at you. Taking my cock so well.” Every word is punctuated by him pounding into you. “You’re such a good girl, such a good fucking girl.” The slap of his hips is as loud as your moans, his words doing something insane to your body, cunt tightening as he makes good on his promise. Bringing you to the edge with just his cock.

He reads you well for a first-time fuck. “Are you close?” He asks.

Your eyes are shut and you’re quieting, body tensing and locking up as you get closer and closer to your orgasm. All you do is nod.

He moans, higher pitched than before and you feel his hips lose their rhythm for a second before recovering. “Ask me,” He pants. “Ask me if you can cum.”

Your eyes open and he’s looking at you with a sort of abashed expression on his face. A peek at the timid, shy Jeongguk you knew before you met the one fucking you into his matress. You agree easily with a jerky nod, letting him take control, tell you what to do. He said he would give you whatever you want, and you’ll do the same for him. Anything to make him feel as good as he’s making you.

It’s not long before you’re doing what he asks.

“Gguk… I’m gonna- Can I-” Your body shakes, and you turn your head to the side, trying to hide from him. “Please can I cum?” You mewl.

You feel him grip your jaw, turning your face and making you look at him. “Yeah baby, cum for me. Lemme see.” His hand keeps a hold on you, and his hips never stop the whole time the rush burns through you. Your eyes are closed as you clench and cream on his cock, but he watches you. The way you don't know what to do with your hands, settling for pulling at his sheets. He watches every phase of your climax pass over your face. The look of almost confusion as you get overwhelmed, the devastating pleasure as you peak, the serene smile as you start to come down.

His hips slow, but don’t stop. He kisses you deep, before murmuring against your red bitten lips, fingers still gripping your jaw, keeping you where he wants you. “What do you say?”

You know what he wants to hear, you give in effortlessly. It’s soft and saccharine sweet when you say, “Thank you.”

The submission does something to Jeongguk and his hold gets almost painful, before he sits up, and switches to grabbing at your hips, pulling you down onto his cock. “Good, you’re so good. Gonna make me fucking cum.”

You nod, watching him while lying on your back. Tits bouncing every time he pumps his cock into you, frantic and needy. His hands on your hips are bruising, and his eyes are stuck on the way your pink pussy is getting beat up by his fat cock. He grabs one of your hands and brings it to his chest, urging you to rub your fingers over his nipple.

“Yeah, touch me,” He whimpers as his head falls back and he moans shamelessly. “Fuck. Gonna cum.”

He’s so beautiful when he does. His face is flushed, and he looks at you until he can't keep his eyes open, mouth parted, sporadic huffs falling from his lips as his chest heaves before his whole body tenses and jerks. He chokes out the softest, “Cumming.” and you feel him press into you as far as he can, spilling into the condom. His tattoos are a lovely contrast to his fair skin, the way the dark ink shines due to the light sheen of sweat coating his body is captivating. His neck is strong, and you spy a couple of little bruises that you don’t even remember leaving, but they look almost as pretty as his tattoos. When he looks at you again, you feel new waves of arousal flicker. He looks almost lost and overcome with the pleasure he’s feeling, eyes so dark and hooded, body still trembling a little as he keeps his hips moving in the smallest minute little thrusts, milking his cock of everything, like he never wants to pull out.

But of course, he does. Tying off the condom and plopping it onto his nightstand. He lays next to you, not too close, but his hand reaches out to play with yours laying by your side. He hums before laughing. It’s airy, both of you still catching your breath.

“I can’t believe we christened my daughter's room.”

You laugh with him, rubbing a hand over your face kind of embarrassed. You roll to face him. “Sorry you just- make me so crazy.”

He faces you as well, and his eyes are sparkling with laughter. He pokes you in the forehead, “You make me crazy. You make my morals nonexistent.” He kisses your cheek softly before heaving himself up. “And I think that’s the cue for the wine.” He grabs a pair of new briefs from his dresser pulling them on before he grabs something from a different drawer and throwing it at you. One of his shirts. Walking towards the door, he turns to you. “Want a glass?”

You fiddle with the shirt in your hands. “It’s getting late, maybe I should-”

“You can stay.” He interrupts. He’s not looking at you, fingernails suddenly very interesting.

“Do you want me to?” You ask.

He shrugs. “I mean you still have to help me finish Nari’s room. You were the one that distracted us by jumping off a stepstool to get your hands on me.” He’s smirking when your head whips up to look at him, expression appalled.

“I did not jump. I fell.”

He rolls his eyes, a big smile replacing the smirk. “Yeah, okay.”

“Fuck you, go get the wine Daddy.”

~~~

helloooo! thank you for reading friends 🥺 i hope you liked it. i’ve got one thing to say..... nari main character.... please like and reblog if you enjoyed, tell ya friends, drop a comment, leave a note, send an ask... lemme know ur thoughts pals ily <3

series masterlist, pt 1, pt 2, pt 3

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mari-the-bimbo · 3 years

Note

What about if one of gojo's side chicks were being toxic/mean to s/o, because gojo wasn't giving them any attention? What would gojo do?

Dorm mate! Gojo: his side chick is mean to you

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

A/N: I want to say he’d straight up just murder them, but I should probably give more detail lmao, anyways enjoy! :)

Warning: swearing

// These scenarios take place before “drunken confessions” //

Dorm mate! Gojo would usually bring back a different girl to the dorm nearly every week

Majority of his girls would quickly catch on that he has a soft spot for you, but would keep their mouths shut

Mostly because they either felt pity that you didn’t realise, or in hopes that they could spend more time with the handsome rich boy

But it seems as though Gojo’s newest girl didn’t get the gist, her anger towards you growing when she couldn’t get attention from Gojo.

So when you woke up that morning, and found a hand bag on your designated kitchen chair, you picked it up in confusion.

“Hm? Where did this come from?”

But before you could place it on the kitchen counter, you were pushed forwards by a taller figure, who snatched the bag out of your hands.

“Who the fuck said you could touch my bag with your dirty hands?! Get up you stealing bitch!” You heard a girl yell from behind.

You rolled his eyes, knowing it’s another one of Gojo’s stuck up side chicks.

“What makes you think I was trying to steal your bag? It was literally in my seat!!” You argued back while getting up, angered by her accusations.

“Maybe it’s the way you literally look fucking homeless you bitch, I don’t how why Gojo even deals with your ugly ass!” She yelled, clearly trying to start a scene.

Why was she screaming so early in the morning? Damn, hoe.

“You’re literally standing in my dorm insulting me?! If you’ve got shit to say, say it outside of my dorm!” You retaliate.

“Woah woah! What’s with all the screaming? It’s 7 in the morning guys!” Geto walks in with Shoko, who seems just as unimpressed.

But before you could apologise to your dorm mate and friend for the noise and explain the situation, the girl spoke up

“Can you believe this bitch was trying to steal my bag??!!” She said, pointing at you accusingly.

“Surely there’s some mistake” Geto said, walking towards you both.

“Imagine stealing someone’s bag!” She continued dramatically, definitely getting the attention she intended, “did your mother not raise you right? Acting like a fucking animal” she added bitterly as she glared at you.

“Watch your mouth!” You yelled angrily.

“Woahh there!! What’s with all the noise people!” dorm mate! Gojo entered, a bit too happily, unable to read the mood of the room.

You saw a smirk appear on the girls face.

Oh, so that’s what it was. All this for Gojo’s attention huh?

“Babe! You need to kick this broke bitch out the dorm! They literally tried to steal my bag!” She yelled.

“I did not!” You yelled back, you could feel angry tears building up in your eyes, feeling frustrated and overwhelmed by the accusations.

“You didn’t?” dorm mate Gojo asked in a monotone voice, his 6’3 figure leaning against the kitchen frame.

His blank tone with the shades he was wearing that was blocking his expression made it hard for you to decipher whether he was mocking you or he was genuinely on the girl’s side

Whatever, it didn’t matter to you anymore.

“Whatever! I don’t need to explain myself to anyone anyways!” You yelled angrily as you stormed off, trying to compensate for the pathetic tears that was flowing down your cheeks.

But those tears were dorm mate! Gojo’s breaking point.

As you pushed past him to exit the dorm kitchen, he grabbed your elbow, staring down at you blankly, as you struggled to escape his grasp.

“Get out” he said.

“Huh?”

He sighed, as he released you and made his way over to the girl

Was he telling you to get out? Or her?

“Babe! I was so scared when I saw her about to steal my bag!” she exaggerated.

But the answer to your question became clear as Gojo grabbed the girls bag and threw it across the room,

“Babe! W-what did you do that for??!!” she asked in shock.

“Go fetch doggie!” Dorm mate! Gojo mocked her with a sadistic smile, as you, Geto and Shoko stood still in shock.

“No but seriously Clarisse, get the fuck out of my dorm, and take your fake designer bag with you” he added, his smile now disappearing

Once the girl recovered from the shock, she picked up her bag as muttered profanities as she left the dorm.

The awkward silence fell over the dorm as she left.

“Y/N CHANNNN!!!” dorm mate Gojo wailed as he swiftly picked you up in his arms and hugged you “FORGIVE ME FOR BRINGING THE WRETCHED WITCH THAT DARED TO INSULT YOU”

“O-okay Gojo! You can let me down now!” You said with embarrassment, as you watched Geto and Shoko laugh at you, all coddled up like a baby in Gojo’s arms.

“Awww such a cutie patootie aren’t ya Y/N?” Shoko mocked, making you blush harder and you told her to shut up, making everyone laugh harder

Looks like the girl got dorm mate! Gojo’s attention in the end, just not in the way she wanted lol

HAHA [disrespectfully]

#gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jjk gojo #jjk anime #jjk headcanons #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo fluff #gojo smut #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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burnedbyshoto · 3 years

Text

i wonder

i wonder (if you remember the way we looked at each other)

— Living as roommates with your best friend is easy until someone fucks up and catches feelings.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut fem!reader, and they were roommates, childhood friends!au, university!au, quirkless!au, modern!au, americanized university experience, alcohol consumption, drug consumption, the plot is for the sex AHA, womanizer!shouto, shouto and reader are bad roommates but seiji is worse, shouto has sex at 16 for the first time, vouyerism-ish, iffy shouto tendencies, jealous!shouto, jealous!reader, drunk sex so dubcon depending on you, nipplegasms, reader has nipple piercings, blowjob, switching, marking, biting, scratching, praise kink, missing tag ;)

word count: 20,141

a/n: this is for the roommates bnharem collab! please check out all the other amazing fics and art! note to self, dont get drunk the night before this is due and I hope you guys enjoy this!!! I had a lot of fun writing it!!! also,,, sorry if mobile doesn’t correctly format!

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You cracked your eyes open.

The gentle white stream of light permeated through soft cotton curtains, lighting the room in pale stripes and careful touches. Dust particles danced within the shining light, bending and twirling with the flowing air and moving winds. You breathed in deeply, your body still tired, your head still foggy from a night of distractions and too many drinks.

Your eyes are closed once again, your still hazy mind trying to ignore the bitter, rank taste of the alcohol and cum on your tongue and your hands scratching as your naked cleavage. There was still enough time in the day; it was Sunday after—

Wait.

CUM?!

Your eyes flew open, your lips smacking each other as you confirm the awful, salty taste of cum on your tongue. Your hands swiping up and down your front to confirm your state of undress. Your heart starts hammering in your chest, your palms immediately sweating as you try to think about just who the fuck you ended up back in bed with.

Think, y/n, think!

A small grunt came from behind you, and you felt your entire body go rigid immediately. The soft expel of air fanning against your sticky neck is both welcomed and untrusted. With what can only be described as you, as stiff as a stick, peering behind your shoulder similar to a mother who definitely heard her child throw up on her bed but is somehow praying that she was hearing shit, you turned around.

A messy bedhead of red and white greeted you: unfocused, sleepy grey, and brilliant blue eyes staring back at you with fond familiarity and welcome.

“‘Morning, y/n,” Todoroki Shouto grumbles, voice husky, scratchy, deeply warm from his slumber. His next words are damning, though, the slight pride and knowing implications in the small breathe he uttered next. “Had fun last night?”

There was silence, a stroke of hesitancy, then crushing all-consuming fear.

You screamed.

At the top of your lungs.

O N E W E E K A N D A D A Y E A R L I E R

“Who the fuck touched my fucking Angry Orchard Rosés?!” a voice snapped from the kitchen; the tone was fed up, seconds from blasting to smithereens.

You were in the living room, a pair of sweats on, your hair not put together, your face still bare. The music you played as part of your pregame ritual was practically vibrating the wooden floor as you sang along to your music. The telling glass bottle of deliciously pink alcohol swinging inconspicuously between your fingers as you drank it between verses. Despite your other roommate (who you repeatedly told your friends to be ‘like Bakugou but a gazillion times worse because you don’t and can’t like him,’) being seconds from trying to start another feud or possibly a lawsuit against you, your mouth dropped in mock shock before guzzling down the rest of the drink.

“I saw that you fucking skank!” Shishikura Seiji screeched from the kitchen; his stomps were long and heavy as he made his way from the kitchen to the living room where you were. “There were two bottles left in there! Don’t tell me your alcoholic ass drank them both! So help me, I’ll press on your damn chest until you’re puking out my drink.”

“Shishikura, stop,” Shouto spoke up, his own arm raising as he took a long, slow drink from the other missing rosé bottle. “These are 2% alcohol, you’ve had them in the fridge for months now, and you never drink them anyways.”

You grinned as you pulled the glass bottle from your lip, your face failing at the fake look of surprise, guilt, and sorrow for your unwanted and unneeded roommate.

“Sorry, they’re such girly drinks. I figured I’d take them off your hands,” you speak with distractingly bright amusement. “Alcoholics like me, we don’t care. Watch out; I might go for your mouth wash if you’re not too careful.”

“You do that, and I’ll poison you like a damn bitch,” Shishikura threatened, his voice in a menacing growl.

“Ooooo, you want me to bark for you, Shishikura? Want me on my hands and knees?” you taunt back, walking backward until you’re collapsing onto the couch besides Shouto. Your arm quickly sneaks between his, and you lay your head on his shoulder. Shishikura’s face is flushed red, his pupils beady as he trembles with concealed rage.

“She’s quite good at it,” Shouto chimes in, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smirk as he takes another drink of the weak liquor. He shifts on the couch, allowing you to curl more comfortably at his side; the both of you know just how much your incredibly prude roommate hates any sort of PDA. “Want to hear her bark? She’s also quite good with her tongue.”

As if to emphasize Shouto’s point, you stuck out your tongue, refusing to break eye contact with Shishikura as the tip of your tongue breached the opening of the bottle.

“The actual fuck is wrong with the both of you?!” Shishikura spluttered, his face somehow turning purple and green and red. A truly incredible sight to be had. “‘Childhood friends are great roommates to have’ my fucking ass, you both are monstrosities!”

Shishikura stormed out of the living room, his ears neon red as his purple hair fell to cover his face. As soon as he was out of sight, you turned to Shouto, your tongue removing itself from the bottle and back into your mouth as you began to laugh loudly.

Childhood friends to roommates, ah, what a remarkable story you had with Todoroki Shouto.

It was accurate to relay that you had known Shouto for more than seventeen years now at your current age of twenty-one. Seventeen years of being what is easily seen as the best of friends, the closest companions, and indeed a bond that would withstand time and situation.

The two of you met during the first week of what was preschool. Although both of you could not remember a single instance of events during this time, your mothers had always been excited to relay this story to you for many years that you could remember. It was odd to try to remember it, but even as they painted a picture of your first interaction, you could do nothing but admit that it sounded exactly like how it could have gone.

You couldn’t remember being four years old; you don’t recall what it was like to strain your neck to look up at your parents or how it felt to be so utterly dependent but to scream brazenly about your childish independence. Your mother smiles when she retells the story of your first interaction, of how you were holding her hand as she walked you to the building where your preschool was to be had.

Your hand was so small in hers. Tightly clutching onto her fingers as you looked around at the other children who were also arriving or had already arrived. Some children were bawling by their parents, others aimlessly playing with toys, and some were attempting to talk to one another, but by the apparent looks of curiosity surrounding the babbling and rambling tangents that could only be understood by a firing toddler brain, everyone was getting along.

A teacher greeted you kindly, squatting down to reach your eye level as they excitedly introduced themselves and asked for your name. You, of course, with your hands clutching the skirts of your mother’s dress, responded with hesitant confidence.

“You’re such a brave girl!” the teacher awed happily, stretching out a hand for you. “Is it okay if I take you from your mom and show you which cubby is yours?”

There was a moment of confusion, then clear understanding hovering over your little head. Your mom looked down with an encouraging smile and pushed you forward.

“Do I get a middle cubby? I don’t want a top one,” you admit, your hand stretching out to grab the teacher’s stretched-out hand.

Your mother watched on happily as you removed your schoolbag and lunchpail and placed them neatly within the somehow middle cubby marked with your name. The teacher also helped you put on your white school slippers before gesturing towards the bright, colorful room, their mouth moving as if explaining every little detail before pointing at the corner. Your mother tilted her head, curious as she followed the teachers point to the corner of the room where a boy with exceptional red and white hair — split perfectly in the middle — sat quietly, with fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

(Shouto, although he can not remember this day himself, will argue with you and only you that he was, in fact, NOT crying.)

Trying to not allow the shock of the unnatural hair color affect her, your mother watched as you nodded to your new teacher and walked over with clenched fist confidence to the small boy.

She watched as you approached him, your jaw moving as you so obviously spoke, hopefully introducing yourself. The boy looked up at you with bright, wet eyes but seemed to speak right back to you.

“Alright, parents! Thank you all for dropping off your children! Do not worry. We will take great care of them all, and they are in competent hands! First days are hard for everyone, so if you can exit quietly, I, and the rest of us teachers, would appreciate that greatly!”

Or at least that’s what Rei claimed the teacher said. However, your mother was watching on with increasing exponential horror as she watched you throw a punch at the air before twisting around and pointing right at her and saying with a voice that was much too loud.

“Punch whoever made you cry, Shouto-chan! My mama says that it is okay to punch bullies!”

Thankfully no one but your mother heard you, and even though she scolded you on the way out, whisper yelling that you “better not punch anyone!” her relief was for naught.

When she would return in the afternoon, a bit late because there had been a hold up on the train, you were pouting sitting on the floor with a scuffled uniform, your arms crossed definitely. Next to you was the boy with red and white hair, equally scuffed next to a white-haired woman and an older white-haired boy.

“Oh my god, what happened?!” she shrieked, racing over to you.

“Y/l/n-san,” the teacher spoke with a tone that indicated disappointment with the subtle undertone of amusement. “Y/n-chan has something to tell you.”

Your mother had taught you many things, she will admit, in your very short life. But sass and annoyment was something not often seen in your household or in you, and to see it so blatantly on your chubby-cheeked face was quickly giving your mother greys.

“Shouto-chan told me that his stupid bully brother Touya was being a meanie, and so I helped him punch him back!” you said with tears in your eyes because you didn’t want to back down from your actions, but you also did not like being scolded. “I don’t regret it!”

“Y/n!”

“Y/n-chan!”

“I don’t either,” Shouto-chan grumbled as your mother collapsed to her knees and began to profusely apologize for you to the woman who was undoubtedly Shouto’s mother. “Touya-nii was making fun of my hair again… y/n-chan helped me, though. Please don’t scold her!”

To say the most in the shortest amount of time, you were, in fact, scolded despite Shouto’s begging. Touya stopped making fun of Shouto’s natural hair. Rei accepted your mother’s apology. The teachers were given two bottles of sake.

And, of course, the most important, the most paramount thing to arise from this first day of school was that your and Todoroki Shouto’s friendship was now bound by blood, sweat, and tears.

Preschool became elementary school, which became middle school, and fading into highschool.

It was without saying that your relationship, your friendship with Todoroki Shouto, was probably one of the biggest, most defining parts of your entire life. He was there when your first tooth fell out, when he dropped ice cubes down people’s shirts, you two had bathed together when you were young, had sleepovers well past the age where him being a boy and you being a girl should have made things weird. You laughed when his voice cracked and dropped, he elbowed your chest plenty when you began growing boobs, you taunted his lack of body hair, he bought you your favorite ice cream and heating packs on your first period. You attended cram school together, went to the park and beaches on days off from school. You were partners in every school activity except under specific circumstances. He had listened to you when you told him excitedly about your first kiss when you turned fourteen, and you laughed when he said at the age of fifteen that he had still yet to kiss anyone.

Everyone always claimed, always asked, wondered, and whispered if the two of you were dating. Childhood friends still this close and not dating? Unheard of; practically illegal! Nevertheless, you ignored the disappointed frowns or the hopeful grins as you and Shouto both denied any sort of romantic connection.

Soon the both of you were in high school, and Shouto was mere days from turning sixteen. Much like when the both of you were when you were four years old, you seemed to be the one spouting many words — sometimes unnecessary words that wound you both up in trouble — of wisdom. You were loud when you needed, talking most of the time only to him and your surprisingly large group of friends. (You weren’t that surprised. Everyone wanted to be friends with the handsome, could easily be royalty or a model, Todoroki Shouto.) Shouto remained, for better or worse, quiet, reserved, and a bit awkward. He was a sweet boy, don’t get it wrong, and you would protect him until the end of your days, but the boy was a complete airhead and relied on you for interpreting social interactions.

“Camie-senpai wants me to go over to her house after my birthday,” Shouto explains, his hands exchanging his school shoes for his outdoor ones. “Something about wanting to do that one second-year first-year student project thing for the third years right away.”

“You have Camie?” you ask, slumping against the metal lockers with a slight thud. “Lucky, she’s so nice… I have stupid Agoyamato. Have you had a conversation with him? It’s actually the worst! He thinks he’s all that!”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay; you’re nice enough that he won’t be like… that,” Shouto smiles, slinging his bag on his shoulders before nudging his head towards the exit. “Ready?”

“Am I ever ready?” you ask with a whine but nevertheless proceed onward.

Time passed, and between cram school, actual school, some clubs, eventually January 11th passed and you held an ice cream cake that Shouto loved. You ate the cake together, relaxing as you sat in the warmth of his kitchen.

“Happy birthday, Shoucchan, never change!” you chirp, shoving his arm that rose to place the piece of cake in his mouth with your shoulder and watched as the sweet pastry splattered on top of the table. “...um?”

“I’ll give you ten seconds to run.”

“Only ten?! What about the happy birthday boy.”

“Oh, true. Three seconds to run.”

“Why?!”

“It’s my birthday.”

An hour later, when your stomach hurt from laughing too much and the sickly sweet weight of too much ice cream cake, you lay snuggled into Shouto’s side as the both of you watched some old movie.

“Thanks for always being here for me,” you mumble, eyes growing heavy as the heat of Shouto’s body began to lull you to sleep.

“I’m always here for you,” Shouto softly responded, hand gliding up and down the curve of your spine. “We should get you home. Your mom yelled and nearly skinned us both the last time you fell asleep here.”

“Only cuz she’s scared that we’ll have some sudden revelation we like each other and fuck each other’s brains out,” you groaned, absolutely not content with having to move. With your face buried in your hands now, you missed the weird pattern in Shouto’s chest over that.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“...fine, just because it’s your birthday.”

The next day, when Shouto followed Camie home instead of you, there was something that made you feel off as you waved at them goodbye. It wasn’t jealousy, that much you knew, but something worse when you watched the way your never-been-kissed-before best friend was ignorant to the dark eyes Camie sent his way.

To be quite honest, you’re not sure if you should be as surprised as you are when you get a phone call at ten p.m. to the sound of a confused, suppressed, overwhelmed voice of your best friend asking if you could confirm if Camie had fucked him. You then stayed on the phone for Shouto until well past two a.m., your heart hurting as he recounted the memory over and over again. You weren’t sure as to why your heart was breaking. By the sounds of it, Shouto had actually enjoyed it, but with every stammer to his voice, you felt lightyears away.

Most shockingly, however, was the effects this had on Shouto and his overall persona.

From ages four until fifteen, Todoroki Shouto was someone who was quiet, observant, took things a bit too literally, at all times was entirely precious in the way he interacted with people, and most importantly, unaware of the female population who lusted after him. It worked well for you because it was fun to tease him about things, nag him about how he was sixteen, and hadn’t been kissed even though if he asked any girl at school to kiss him, they definitely would.

But sixteen-year-old Todoroki Shouto was a new shift, a new paradigm for you to learn. It wasn’t that he wasn’t confident before, but now he emitted a sense of confidence that he was aware of, that everyone was aware of. He became mature, sophisticated, styled even. He was still at times quiet, always completely observant. He rarely took things literally and understood rhetoric and sarcasm and hyperboles. Long gone were the days of preciousness, and instead, there was a sense of a predator on the hunt that bled in the way that he talked to people. Most importantly, however, he was fully aware of the female population and precisely who was lusting after him.

He flirted with women and girls. You would find him leaning against the lockers talking with them, somehow trapping them despite not actually trapping them. A new girl was sitting at your table with him practically every week in high school, each girl asking for the hundredth millionth time that the both of you were not dating. Some girls were even bold enough to apologize to you for stealing your best friend — as if you wanted Shouto.

You had already seen his dick, thank you very much (although the last time you saw it was well before you were nine years old), you weren’t missing out on how it probably looked now! Honestly, you had no idea how Shouto never managed to run out of female students to fuck, the school wasn’t that large, and he seemed to go through a few a week sometimes.

But he was your best friend, your childhood friend, and no matter how many girls came crawling back to your lunch table, bawling to Shouto to take him back, soaking the fabric of your skirt to help convince him to take her back, you stayed. You stayed, accepting the fact that your best friend had become an awkward teenage boy and turned into some high school sex freak.

You stayed when his shaggy hairstyle was clipped and became short.

Overnight, just as he went from being a complete virgin to not one, he went from a scrawny sixteen-year-old boy to a leanly built eighteen-year-old hot-ass heartthrob womanizer.

High school wasn’t forever. Even though it took you about a year to accept and integrate Shouto’s new sex life and behavior into your daily lifestyle with him (he always left four of the three days open for you as all his relationships were casual only). Soon enough, the both of you relaxed and found your own relationship to be entirely the same, and when university exams and applications came about, it was decided that yet again, the both of you would follow each other anywhere.

Which is where you were now.

Tokyo University, a third-year student, living in an upscale three-person apartment with your best friend, of course. Shouto plus someone who practically begged in the most unbegging way to live with you.

Todoroki Shouto and Shishikura Seiji in the same apartment as you made for an interesting combination.

You hadn’t wanted Shishikura Seiji as a roommate at all. Period.

There were about eleven other people you only considered asking, but they all said no for their own reasons. Bakugou and Midoriya had found their own apartment closer to the University, and for much cheaper, Kirishima and Mina were RA’s and could not move in. Kaminari said he liked Sero’s couch too much to leave, and Sero couldn’t live in an apartment without a balcony. Momo said the room was too small, Jirou said she’d rather continue living with Momo, Uraraka said it was a tad bit too much for her to afford (to be fair, you didn’t have to pay because the Todoroki’s were paying for your housing, but you understood), Tsuyu and Hagakure said they were living at home. Iida said he would be too uncomfortable living with a couple.

Everyone you found on the street wouldn’t accept your offer. Hence, Shouto invited the meatball and rosé obsessed Shishikura Seiji to live with the two of you simply because he was Shouto’s lab partner in one of his advanced physics classes. Stupid chemical engineering nerd.

At twenty-one years, you can now say that you’ve entirely adjusted to Shouto’s womanizer ways. Too often do you find yourself sitting at the kitchen counter, a steaming cup of tea in your hand as you drink it in slowly, watching with much amusement as either a no-name girl leaves or a walk of shame Shouto enters. It happens at most five times a week; you were used to it. While the unease had finally left, you had to admit you were impressed your best friend could easily sleep around as he did and maintain his outstanding grades.

However, just because you were finally used to Shouto’s womanizer tendencies didn’t mean the world was. Even in University, your fellow students would ask with wide eyes and behind flat palms if the two of you were dating — specifically if Shouto was cheating on you or if it was an open relationship. You would each and every time, smile cheekily, shake your head and say with a roll of your eyes: “No, we’re not dating. He’s not cheating, and no, this is nothing more than us being best friends. Sho is too much of a jealous person to allow for an open relationship.”

Somehow, the constant begging of approval and the erasure of any romantic connection between you and Shouto from the plethora of female students at Tokyo University wasn’t even the most annoying part of it all. No, not at all.

What really ground your nerves was a pattern you noticed when you were eighteen.

Unlike Shouto, you hadn’t had the chance to lose your virginity until you were eighteen. Most of the boys who liked you always assumed you and Shouto were dating, the ones who gathered the courage to ask you out anyways were boys you were less than impressed with. By some act of some higher god, your crush — the school's third-year baseball team's captain when you were a first-year — reappeared in your life and asked you out. It wasn’t your best decision, you can fully admit it, but he was friendly and sweet as he fucked you in his small bed.

You hadn’t expected sex to be like that, and if you had enjoyed this, you couldn’t help but wonder just how Shouto was in bed to have girls behaving like that.

However, the spell was broken when he helped you change back into your clothes, and he begged you not to tell Shouto he was the person you cheated on him with.

It was on this day that it clicked.

What went for him, unfortunately, went for you too.

Except where girls rose to the challenge to dethrone you from Shouto’s side (a shame because they were vying for a seat that you had no claim over), the boys lowered their head like some damn omega to Shouto’s alpha.

Disgusting.

Even with the plentiful, plethora, consistent denial of your relationship with Shouto, even with the tally of girls, Shouto’s bedded (and more excitedly, deflowered — ugh!) rose consistently, no one ever really believed you weren’t dating him! Too many a time, you had been centimeters from making out with a guy for them to pull away, screeching that they couldn’t allow you to betray Shouto. The men who didn’t care were sleezebags, and thus, with a growl and a snarl, you found that you were only able to fuck men who thought jackhammering their fingers into your labia — yes, your labia — would make you cum.

You didn’t want to say you hated your childhood best friend for such duplicitous, selfish reasons… but you did.

But today was Saturday, a few months into the new second semester of the school year, and with school spirit once again high and workload low. The entire campus was brimming with parties, celebrations, alcohol drinking competition, sleazy dancing, and enough sexual tension to kill all celibate people.

So, we look back to where we started.

Shishikura Seiji running away as you nestled back against Shouto’s chest.

“I didn’t think he was actually going to drink these things,” Shouto sighed, spinning the last few remaining drinks of his rosé in his hand. “It’s been in the fridge for almost five months.”

“He probably made his meatballs again and needed something terrible to blame the flavor on,” you half joke half say in complete seriousness. You were not fond of Shishikura at all, and he was not fond of you either. He had a tendency to mansplain everything, which continuously ground on your nerves, especially when he had no jurisdiction to act so confidently.

He was a physics major, not a goddamn god.

Fuck off.

“I feel sorta bad,” Shouto sighs, his hand low and warm on your waist. “But I will admit, these drinks are practically like carbonated water.”

“2% alcohol,” you stress, your grin widening as you pull away from his chest to stare at him. Your gaze is bright, and his eyes are filled with amusement. “You’re either the world's lightest lightweight or a child with no tolerance to actually expect to get drunk off this shit.”

“I think you’re slurring your words already though, you sure you’re okay, lightweight?” Shouto teases, his soft smirk teasing.

“Who was the one who took three shots and passed out?” you wonder innocently, finger to your chin as if you were trying to remember.

“At least I don’t throw up when I crossfade.”

“IT'S NOT MY FAULT. MY BIOLOGY JUST HAPPENS TO WORKS THAT WAY!”

“Alright, bitch,” Shouto snorts, completely unattractively, “hurry up and get ready, yeah? We have a party we’re already late to, and we have no drinks for an actual pregame.”

You squeal excitedly, having forgotten the massive party that was being held a few blocks away. “I’ll be ready in ten!”

Typically, when you went out partying, you went with the group of eleven people you would have rather replaced Shishikura as a roommate. To get ready for said parties, you would always find yourself at Momo’s place with an outfit change, makeup bag, and hair styling items. You had made it a tradition with the other girls to get ready together. The only exceptions to which this wouldn’t happen was when someone had a work event or some family thing come up.

In your case, you had been stuck at a professor's office, diligently helping to put together their research journal as they were in their final steps of publishing their findings. Due to your friendly relationship with your professor, the time had been lost, and your ten p.m. call time to arrive at Momo’s had been missed with a quick:

↳ held up at work! go on without me, sorry! see you at the party!!!!

When you crashed through the front door of your apartment, you froze, seeing Shouto in the hallway by the mirror. Sometime between getting his haircut to be shorter and from this day, he had begun to style his hair by threading it back by his fingers, and boy, it looked fucking good. He was already dressed up for the party. Black joggers, a white t-shirt that was a bit too small if the tight, seductive way it clung to his muscles spoke of anything, and a hoodie he had no care about in case he lost it after taking it off once getting there. Shouto was practically immune to all weather types, he could be in both snow or fire without a single worry, but he knew that a large sweatshirt that smelled like him was enough to hook and line any truly desperate female.

Shouto had chuckled, taking in your frazzled state with years of practice and nudged toward the fridge, already knowing that you had missed your pregaming with the girls.

“Shishikura has two rosés left. Grab ‘em, and we can pregame together.”

But that was all unimportant and already said.

In the end, it took you thirty minutes to get ready.

You had practically smeared on your makeup, hoping the warm, crazy miscoloring would be hidden within the crazy light show the party would definitely be displaying. Your outfit consisted of a tank top that exposed your cleavage and a skirt that hugged your legs and ass just right.

You came stumbling out of your room, fingers trying to shove on your earrings, the rings on your fingers clicking loudly against each other. You smiled breathily, gratefully accepting Shouto’s sweater as you slipped on your comfortable heels at the doorway before hurrying out.

Shouto kept an arm around your shoulder the entire way out, the immense heat of his body keeping you warm as his sweater rested lazily, awkwardly, around your shoulders and arms. You didn’t want to put it entirely on to save your makeup, and in case anyone had any fucking thing to say about the show you and Shouto were putting on. Eventually, the bright and comical conversation between you and Shouto began to grow louder as the pounding of dance music began to ring in your ears. Soon enough, you passed a few drunk people, more and more, until you reached the house where the party was.

Shoving the sweatshirt into Shouto’s chest, you grinned as the smell of alcohol, weed, over-cologne men and women, the faint smell of puke, and the gross crawl of BO flooded your nose.

Ah yes, nothing like a university party.

Shouto laughs at your evident piqued excitement, and after he pulls on the light blue sweatshirt, he grabs your hand, and into the overcrowded home you go.

The intense heat of overcrowded bodies on a dance floor that also makes up a drinking game floor makes you grateful for your choice of clothes. Everyone around you is already drunk, sloshed, intoxicated off their ass as unknown drinks spill from their red Solo cups, sometimes even raining down on you. You grimace as Shouto continues to pull you through. You can taste the Hennesy on your upper lip and somehow know that whoever was drinking it was a freshman with a vendetta to kill his liver and love for drinking before coming of legal age.

“What do you want to drink?” Shouto yells over the nearly obnoxiously loud music. He has his sight on the drinks counter. “Mixed or the juice?”

“Fuck me up with the jungle juice!” you yell right back, pressing to his side as two dancing (see, vigorously dry-humping) nearly trample on top of you. “Parties are meant to be a non-sober event. I need to be borderline blacked out five hours ago!”

The agreeing chuckle from Shouto isn’t heard by you at all, but you can feel his chest give a familiar vibration as finally, he pulls you from the sea of bodies to where the floor is especially wet and sticky. You’ve reached the bar area.

Grabbing your own red Solo Cup, you watch as Shouto makes his own drink. Heavy on the alcohol, light on the mixer, and a good handful of ice (he’s always liked the cold better). His hand reaches for your cup and you offer your cup up as he opens up an ice chest filled with neon-colored jungle juice.

When the drink is returned to you, the both of you cheers and take a long drink.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N-CHAN!”

“You’re finally here, you fucking slut! Getcha fat ass over here now!”

Your neck is twisted to see the absolutely plastered group of girls you considered to be your closest friends, and you laugh loudly.

“Seems like I’m needed,” you yell at Shouto, trying your best to act nonchalantly as he smiles knowingly at you. “Text me about what you decide to do if we don’t see each other?”

“Of course,” he simply responds before placing the curve of his cup back onto his lip as hands grabbed your arms and whisked you away.

In a matter of sixty minutes, you all had played five drinking games.

The girls felt it was imperative to get you to their level right away, so they started off with a game of King’s Cup. Not only was the deck rigged against you — you pulled all four of the four cards and thus had to chug four times — but you had drawn the last King and drank some weird concoction of jungle juice, a tequila shot, a vodka shot, and whatever the fucking hell Mina was drinking. How you managed to chug that and stay on your feet was beyond you, but it was without saying that you had utterly and inevitably caught up with the girls.

After the King's Cup came the Flip Cup game, your team won thankfully due to Mina’s one flip wonder as Kaminari struggled to down the shot in the cup.

After Flip Cup came Smoke or Fire, a game that had Tsuyu stuck on the bus for a record-breaking one round. No one could believe she did that.

Then came a round of Shot Roulette to end with what you were currently doing now, using a drinking card game Momo had made in her spare time to do embarrassing things at random.

Five games in an hour… you questioned if there was by any chance illegal substances in the jungle juice because it had felt like a whopping two minutes.

“It’s midnight!” Hagakure hollered, stumbling backward as she grinned in drunken, stupid happiness. She giggled before singing, “Midnight… memoriessss~!”

Mina groaned at the reference but completely perked up as the dance music changed suddenly from its slightly mellow, good vibe song to none other than Everytime We Touch by Cascada. By tradition, by applicable law by all and every god, when this one song played, everyone needed to stop what they were doing and immediately head to the dance floor.

With your hand slightly sticky with alcohol, and your mind absolutely clouded with alcohol, you whooped loudly as Mina dragged you to the dancefloor.

You, seven girls, formed a closed circle, your Solo cups sloshing over with alcohol, and your faces scrunched tight as you danced and sang as loudly as you could. Each pounding beat of music vibrated in your chest, each offkey note sung by the party-goers making you feel light, happy, dizzy, and oh so perfectly drunk. For just a split moment, you lock eyes with Shouto, who’s across the dance floor, his arms wrapped around some girl you don’t recognize, eyes drinking you in. You smile for a bit before turning back around, arms rocketing up to the air with your excitement.

Although the song ended, the DJ continued to play bangers, and you never once stopped in your mirthful dancing and grinding against your friends as the night continued to carry on. But when you spun out from Mina, your entire world spinning with it, a pair of warm, heavy, large hands rested on your waist, and you laughed.

“Who is this?” you ask, head slamming backward to try and look at the person who had caught you yet hadn’t tried grinding against you. “Oh, Inasa? Hi!”

Yoarashi Inasa was one of your University's well-known jocks. He was a skilled runner, one of the best Japan has ever seen despite his body type telling you he was a bodybuilder. Immediately your smile of idiotic stupor became intentful, seductive, still bordering extreme intoxication. Was Inasa your type? No, not really, but you could reasonably and accurately say that he was a handsome man, with a fantastic body, not to mention a pleasant personality.

You also itched to know what his dick looked like.

This was definitely someone you could see yourself fucking tonight.

“Hi, y/l/n,” Inasa said, his naturally loud voice easily picked up on despite the music being blasted in your ear. “How’s your night going?”

You lick your dry lips, eyes blinking a few times before you turn in his arms, your arms stretching so that you could wrap them around his neck. “Better now that you’re here,” you smile shyly. “How’s yours.”

“Ahem,” Inasa blushes, his eyes staring straight at your cleavage before looking back up at you. “H-Hoping to get better from here! Well, I’m sure it will be.”

“Oh?” you ask, your confidence building faster and faster as you press further against him. “Anything you have in mind?” —you press your thigh suggestively against the semi-hard spot against his jeans. — “Anyway... I can... help?”

Inasa groans deep in his chest, his head knocking backward at your implications, the pleasant vibrations passing on to you. You grin, fingers scraping against the bottom of his buzzcut and bringing him closer, praying for a kiss. But as he returns his head back down, his gaze leaves yours for a split second, and you watch in horror as a sobering look washes over him.

“Actually… you’re here with some random dude, right? I don’t want to step on his toes. I thought I saw you come in with some guy; sorry y/l/n, I can’t do this.”

And just as quickly as he was against you, he was gone.

It took everything in you not to screech bloody murder over the fact that you were once again left horny with no man to take responsibility for it.

Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party With Shouto: 78% Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party Without Shouto: 22%

Walking home alone, cold, and with extreme bitterness towards Yoarashi Inasa was a sadly sobering experience. By the time you collapsed onto your bed, you were only slightly buzzed, boarding sobriety while not being sober exactly.

Fuck men.

Fuck their cowardness over a nonexistent romantic/sexual relationship between you and Shouto.

But also… you really wanted to fuck men right now.

The slicked horniness of the potential thought of bedding Inasa had made its unignorable appearance via your soaked panties. You hated yourself, hated your biological needs and lusts.

“I’ll wring Shouto’s neck in front of all of them next time,” you grumble to yourself. “Stage a fake breakup for an imaginary thing…”

Nestling further into your pillows, your eyes closed, body relaxing against the bed when a peculiar sound seemed to echo in your ear.

Thud.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Your eyes slammed open, your jaw-dropping at the very obvious, entirely embarrassing sound of Shouto having sex on his desk sounded in your room! Of course it sounded in your room. His desk was pressed to your wall because that would mean whenever he was his icky womanizer self, you wouldn’t have to hear anything! Your rooms were soundproof but apparently not movement proof.

The thwack of the wood desk slammed against the wall, and with your ear so close to the wall, you began to hear the shaky, intense breathing of Shouto. The whines, keens, and screams of the girl he was fucking as she begged for more. Sobbing that his cock was too much for her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Your panties soaked even more, and with a brain that somehow retracted back into its state of stupor, your fingers brushed against your swollen, ready clit.

This was wrong, so very, very wrong, you thought, the sounds of pitched whining against the stupidly impressive, steady, consistent fucking.

Your mind was a drunken fever.

Your eyes closed not all the way, yet blind to the wall before you as your finger danced and teased against your demanding clit.

You whined softly, matching the groaning of Shouto, who banged something other than the desk into the wall.

For a moment, just this once, you wanted to be the one desperately clinging to Shouto’s back, hips snapping and circling in tandem to his, allowing him to drill his cock deep within you. Your back arched, heat reaching your toes, buzzing filling your lips.

“Yes, fuck, right there, Todoroki!” the girl screamed, begged, and prayed. “Oh my god, yes, yes yes, right there, right the— mmph!”

You find your teeth sinking into your fist, trying to keep your pounding, horny induced brain from crying out. You wanted to know what he was doing to her, if he had kissed her silent, shoved his fingers in her mouth. Maybe he had fucked her so good she couldn’t possibly say more.

There is nothing from Shouto you can hear, no noises of praise, nothing except the occasional ragged breath that seems to permeate through the walls and whisper sweetly, teasingly, like a succumbs in your ear.

Thud.

It increases, in noise, the wall separating your room from his beginning to rattle, shake in his conquest.

Your fingers are wet, entirely slippery with your conquest, your hips thrashing against your touch, clinging to a phantom memory of the last male you had managed to fuck. Then, as your stomach trembles with the orgasm that's mere seconds from blessing you with a release, you hear him—Shouto.

“Fuck.”

It’s not much. If anything, this girl should be so embarrassed she hasn’t been able to elicit a loud response from Shouto, but it’s a verbal gift from heaven above for you. His voice, tight, husky, drenched with a driving lust, whispers to you and only you, wrapping you in this blanket of solitude and need.

With your back arching from the mattress, your hips leaving the soft surface, and your jaw growing slack, your moan is silent, unheard by no one but the heavens as you cum. Heat floods throughout your entire body, tickling and twirling in you until you can’t do anything but shudder, shaking as you fall back down on your bed, dizzy and completely satisfied.

You don’t think about it.

Don’t try to unpack just what happened right now because the reality that you had just masturbated to the sound of your childhood best friend fucking some random girl is a bit too much. Even for you.

So you don’t think about it, and soon the thudding of the desk on the wall is nothing but a drumming lullaby, and sleep consumes you.

When you wake up, you don’t remember what you did.

You get up and trudge to the bathroom, your party clothes abandoned completely so that you’re wearing nothing but a large shirt you had stolen from Shouto years ago. You scratch your belly as you walk into the bathroom, eyes caked with your sleep still as you begin brushing your teeth.

As you brush your teeth, you begin to take off last night's makeup — well, whatever remained of it.

Spitting out the last foamy remains of the paste from your mouth, you rinsed your mouth before washing your skin. You looked much more awake now. Slapping your cheeks in an encouraging, ‘im a functional human adult taking part in some random face wash commercial,’ you exited the bathroom and went to the kitchen.

Shishikura was already in the kitchen, his face expressionless, entirely dead to the world as he scooped some rice into a bowl and topped it off with some eggs.

“Morning,” you yawn, arms stretching over your head as you near closer to your unwanted roommate.

Shishikura sneers at you, but even he was more polite in the morning, sometimes.

“I heard the both of you get back last night,” Shishikura mocked, slamming the lid to his rice cooker with an unimpressed scowl. “You were thirty minutes apart. You know, if you two still want to be partying like a bunch of eighteen-year-olds, do it respectfully.”

Your smile back at him is as fake as he is, and you refuse to move out of the way as he tries to walk back to his room. He growls — gross? — and sidesteps you, grumbling the entire way back to his room as you roll your eyes at his retreating form.

What a child.

You entered the kitchen, fixing up your own things for breakfast.

Kettle brewing hot water for tea, rice cooker on for your own rice (you make enough for Shouto too), and you begin cooking some ham and eggs, readying yourself for a Sunday for going to the library and studying. You hummed to yourself, your phone plugged into the speaker as your music filled the quiet morning air.

You bobbed your head in rhythm with the music, your eyes concentrating on slowly cooking eggs as you poured the hot water from your kettle into the teacup. As you placed your teabag in, you looked up to the sound of a creaking door and grinned wickedly as a girl with light blue hair walked out of the hall you and Shouto’s room were in.

Her dress was rumbled, a few blooming red and purple marks sitting prettily on her collarbone, and her face flushed red as she began to scurry out.

“Bye!” you call out, laughing at the scared eep from the girl and the disgruntled groan from Shouto’s room.

You set down your tea, flipping the eggs in the pan as you heard more shuffling before finally, Shouto made his appearance. He was in nothing but grey sweatpants that sat so low on his waist you could not only see the band of his boxer-briefs, but you were entirely aware of the v-lines, the abs, the pecs, and the small happy trail from his belly button down. You also noted that there was not a single mark on his body, and you wondered if he had ever taken a single mark from a one-night fuck before.

God really cursed you with an objectively attractive best friend, huh.

“Morning, slut,” you sing, noticing with happiness that your rice cooker sang a merry tune, indicating that the rice was done. “Breakfast?”

“Mm,” Shouto grumbled, his hands rubbing his face as he trudged closer to the kitchen, taking a spot on one of the stools. “Depends. Did you make it?”

“...I always make it.”

“I think I like Shishikura’s breakfast better.”

Silence.

You glare at Shouto, and in turn, his lips press to a comfortable, teasing smile.

“Fend for your damn self then.”

Shouto laughed loudly as you began to stubbornly fix yourself a bowl of both your servings. You ate far less than he did, but still enough to fill you until after three pm, so the size of your bowl was hysterical.

“You’re such a horrible wife-roommate,” Shouto accuses, standing up from the stool and entering the kitchen to try and persuade you otherwise to give him his own food. “And here I thought that you liked cooking for me.”

“Go tell your stupid wife-roommate Shishikura instead,” you cry loudly, the faux sniffles from you stupidly fake as you begin to shovel a mouthful of rice and eggs into your mouth. “I’m shwure you’chll beh happ t’gther!”

“That’s absolutely disgusting, y/l/n,” Shouto accuses, his nose scrunching as he traps you in his arms, mouth trying to intercept the food moving from your bowl and into your mouth.

With another desire to prove how unsatisfied in your roommate-marriage you were, you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue full of uneaten, partially chewed rice.

“Ea’ eh!” you mocked, your grin growing as Shouto’s initial instinct was to whip his head away from you.

But as always, because Shouto enjoyed being incredibly annoying, he went after your tongue, readying to eat the chewed-up food off your very tongue.

Eventually, you gave Shouto back his part of the breakfast, laughing as the both of you chatted about who was going to repay Shishikura for the used rosés. Neither one of you could decide, and so it was something to be solved later. Noon, however, came and with a nod, you accepted Shouto’s hug goodbye, to which you twisted his nose triumphantly as you waddled out of the front door, clothed in your winter gear, textbooks, and laptop,

It was time to brave the world and get this paper done.

“Mina, I mean… absolutely no offense when I say this, but it still shocks me every time you say you’re a chemistry major. You just seem so…”

“Dumb?”

“Yeah.”

“You gotta be some kind of stupid to willingly take inorganic chem,” Mina laughed, balancing her textbooks on her head as the both of you climbed the stairwell to the library’s study rooms. “That's why I have the dance minor! Best of both worlds!”

“Could never forget about that,” you laughed as the both of you neared the top of the stairwell.

You didn’t mean to notice him. As a matter of fact, most of your failed conquests at parties never amounted to much anger from you, but seeing Inasa from across the way, his face buried in some aerodynamics textbook, anger boiled in you. On the way to meeting with Mina, you had realized your mistake last night and how you wouldn’t have made said mistake if it hadn’t been for Inasa! You could’ve been dicked down, slammed against your bed and wall as the giant of a man fucked you!

“I’ll be right back,” you sneered, eyes narrowing as you passed your textbook to Mina.

With fire following in ever long, powerful stride, you blinked and immediately found yourself before Inasa.

“Hi. Wanna explain what happened last night?”

Inasa reacted as if you had shot him, his knees coming up to hit the table, his body knocking backward, and he tumbled, crashing to the floor as you watched with a gaping mouth.

“Y-Y/L/N!” Inasa shouted, his face going through half a billion emotions before settling in anxiety-filled fear. You watched, horrified yourself, as he swung to his knees, his head crashing to the floor as he began apologizing to you. “GOODMORNING, HOW ARE YOU TODAY?!”

“Pipe it down, Inasa!” you hiss, your cheeks flooding with embarrassed heat as you garnered the attention of everyone on the floor. “I’m not going to hurt you! I just wanted to talk!”

“Aha, yes, of course!” Inasa laughs, a full belly laugh. He sits up and you freeze seeing the bloodied cut on his forehead. He stands up, completely unaffected by the gash on his forehead, and uprights his chair before sitting comfortably. “How can I help you?”

“What happened to you last night?” you try again, eyebrow raised, arms crossed definitely and awkwardly because yeah… you were confronting a guy who didn't want to sleep with you. “You were into me and then suddenly wasn’t.”

Inasa laughs more, although nothing you said, implied, or did was even remotely funny.

Irritation runs through your veins.

“Inasa, please,” you sigh in helplessness, your eyes annoyed, pleading, and hopeful that he would be the one to finally give you an actual reason.

“It’s… it’s not you. If that’s what you’re wondering,” Inasa finally sighs. His face turns uncharacteristically solemn as his tongue passes through his lips, his shoulders raising to a shrug. “Typically speaking, you are exactly who and what I want when I endeavor in less than chivalrous but still passionate activities. I wanted you last night, and I will not lie that even as I left, I regretted behaving as I did.”

“Well, you did it, and it sorta really sucked,” you laugh, your mouth taut in a frown as your feelings are genuinely hurt.

You keep being put down, and there’s no reason for it.

Why couldn’t you be as sexually active as you wish you could be?

“...Todoroki has a claim on you,” Inasa spoke slowly, his mouth dipping from a usual smile to a frown. “I know you guys aren’t together, but in a way, you two are.”

“No,” you say with complete certainty, anger burning in your chest, “we’re not.”

“Try telling Todoroki that,” Inasa shrugs, his fingers scratching through his buzz cut. “Listen, I wanted to have intercourse with you last night; I did. I also am aware that Todoroki is a womanizer, but he said you were off-limits for all of us.”

“He said that?” your voice is perfectly calm, not showing the raging fire in you.

“Well, no, he definitely did not,” Inasa sighs, the palm of his hands pressing tightly against his eyes. “He has never said it… but it’s the way he talks about you, how he looks at you. It’s a claim on you, even if it’s not a verbal one, and well, no one wants to defy him.”

Your nostrils flare in your irritation, and you find that you’re stepping into Inasa’s personal space, his eyes going wide as you step between his legs and press your hands on his chest.

“I’ll be going home in about five hours. If you still want to fuck me, wait for me,” you say slowly, trying to make sure he understands. “I don’t care if Sho looks at me the way he does; he is not my boyfriend.”

Inasa gulps, his tan skin sporting a healthy pink flush, “Yes, ma’am.”

Five hours later, you’re walking into your apartment with Inasa behind you, his warm, slightly sweaty hand clasped in yours. You make eye contact with both your roommates, Shishikura, whose eyes are rolling to the depths of his skull, and Shouto, who looks like a wall. You, despite the anger you’re feeling for Shouto, smile prettily, then grin wolfishly as you corral Inasa towards your room. You send your roommates a wink before closing the door with a decisive click.

Much like you assumed the night prior, your drunken hazed, lust-driven, anger-flared thoughts proved to be right. Inasa fucked you against the wall, deep into the mattress, he drilled and fucked you until his dick was wet with your slick, and his leg was trembling with his plentiful unleashed loads. But you weren’t done yet, too many times have you been denied, and even though Inasa was trembling, his voice shaking with desperate pleas to slow down or he would cum too fast, you rode him with powerful, swiveling hips.

Once he left, you felt light again.

Your head light, body glowing as you dressed your bruised, cum slick body in a robe as you trudged to the bathroom. You showered, letting the warm water and sweet-smelling oils drench your body before you eventually exited, your hair in a towel, Shouto’s shirt on your person again.

Waltzing to the living room, you grinned as you collapsed on the couch, every grievance you held when you walked in forgotten at the moment.

“Hello,” you smile, your head falling onto Shouto’s lap who was, at the moment, very interested in his phone. Shishikura was gone, undoubtedly leaving in case he heard something he didn’t want to hear during your little four-hour sexscapade. “I am a leaf flowing through the river right now, if you’re wondering.”

“Don’t need to wonder. You were perfectly loud enough,” Shouto grumbled, his eyes rolling. “Says something that I could, considering the rooms are soundproof.”

“I should hope so! After you, the girls rave that Inasa is the best fuck on campus,” you hum, still on a delirious high as you attempt to reach for your best friend's hand to grasp. But to your shock, Shouto jerks away from your touch, and he stands, letting your head fall roughly on the couch. And just like that, your anger is back. The emotion Inasa had managed to fuck out of you for a bit returned at full force. “Shouto?!”

“What?” he snaps.

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“My problem is that you brought someone to fuck at fucking five p.m.,” Shouto explains, his expression like the void, empty, dark, menacing. “We agreed to keep it until past ten.”

Your face screws up as you push up off the couch, “Are you kidding me?! I’ve seen you constantly bring girls to fuck at any and all times of the day! Don’t suddenly bring that shit in when it clearly isn’t an actual rule in this apartment!”

“You were also being obnoxiously loud,” Shouto narrows his eyes at you.

“You are too!”

“When am I ever?”

“I literally listened to you fuck that girl last night against our shared wall!”

“You moved your bed to our shared wall?! When?!”

“Doesn’t matter! I would’ve heard it just fine on the other side!”

“The girl wasn’t even that fucking loud!”

“You can’t ever remember the names of the girls you fuck! Do you know anything about them ever? Are you even using condoms?!”

“You only ever fuck men with questionable personalities.”

“Gee, I wonder fucking why!”

The two of you were nose to nose, anger flaring and near tangible between the two of you.

“What do you mean?” he grits slowly.

“I’m talking about you mad dogging any male human who so much as looks or thinks of me!” you snap, finger shoving between his pecs. “No one touches me because somehow they respect the way a womanizer looks at me.”

“I’m not looking at you in any special way,” Shouto squints his eyes, completely not having your accusations.

“Even if you don’t, this fucking behavior is pathetic of you!” you say, hands motioning between you two and the room. “I had sex, and you’re acting like some pathetic child! I have been putting up with your sex-craze tendencies since we were sixteen, asshole! Sixteen! If I want to gloat and float about having sex, then I fucking deserve to.”

His nostrils flare, his upper lip curling in a small twitch before he rolls his eyes and walks away.

“That’s right, Todoroki,” you laugh bitterly at his retreating form. “Walk away from a fight because you can never win them.”

It took a bit for the dust to settle, but as soon as it did, you realized in horror that you and Shouto had, for the first time ever, fought.

Being roommates with Shouto was always a fun thing. Having your childhood best friend right at your disposal meant that you could have dinner nights, movie nights, game nights, morning waffles, hikes, and literally anything whenever and wherever you wanted. He was a person to talk to when the days were long, and there was no one else in the world, the person who was there for you through thick and thin. But for two days, he had been locked away in his room, unwilling to look at you, refusing to be anywhere near you.

Your friends had noticed immediately.

The way the both of you hadn’t shown up together, the way you sat at opposite ends of the table, refusing to be trapped in a conversation together. Separate the two of you were, and the world acted as if Earth had dropped out of gravity.

You could care less right now.

You were rightfully mad at him! How dare he act so pettily over you having a sex life when you were expected to blink, turn the other way, and laugh when he would shower after a girl would leave before joining you on the couch to watch a movie. He was in the wrong, not you!

But even if you were unwilling to budge and he was refusing to see things the way they should be, you were now incredibly lonesome. So as you sat with your back on the mattress. Your butt to the wall, and your legs kicking against the wall, you thought of what you could do. With a bitter sigh, you rolled off your bed and scurried out of the apartment. Nothing but your wallet and ID on you so that you could get to the store on the first floor of the complex.

Holding the item in hand, you knocked on a door, your gaze already on the floor, embarrassed that you were going to do what you had to do.

“What?” came the annoyed voice of Shishikura, the door to his room opening as he looked at you unimpressed and very obviously unwelcomed.

“Truce?” you asked, raising the six-pack of Angry Orchard Rosé Cider.

Shishikura looks at you, at the ciders, then back at you.

“Fine.”

How in the world you’re drunk off of four rosé ciders is beyond you, but you are. You’re in the living room, laughing so hard that your stomach hurts as you’re trying not to snort the liquid from your mouth and out your nose. Shishikura is equally plastered off of one drink, his red a ruby red against his purple hair. He’s leaning against you, his breathing ragged, near asthmatic as he tries to once explain just how Shouto looked like when some girl slapped him across the face yesterday for ghosting her after sex.

“He was so shocked!” Shishikura squeaked out, his voice pitchy and incredibly high as he laughed more and more. “You should have seen it!”

Your feet kicked at the air, your face and lungs burning with a fire you hadn’t felt in so long as your laughter turned silent. You gasped for air, trying to contain yourself but failing hysterically.

“Do you wa’ another meatballsh?” Shishikura suddenly asked, his hands flailing to grab his plate of meat. “I think you want another o’.”

“I wan’ ‘ne!” you cried with a slight slur, tears of joy slipping past your eyes to which you haphazardly scrubbed them off your face. “They’re soooo good! I didn’t think they could be so… be so good!”

You find yourself eating another meatball, drinking it down with the cider and feeling happy again. Shishikura goes still by your side, and you hum in wonder, unfocused eyes trying to find what had caught his attention and falling onto the one man you were mad at currently.

Shouto was standing at the apartment entrance, dressed in ripped black jeans, a tight grey turtleneck sweater, and his backpack slung on his shoulder. It was, without a doubt, a studying-only outfit. You knew and have discussed too many times with Shouto about how he never trusted women to take his turtlenecks off without potentially ruining the fabric.

“Well, someone’s finally home... from a night of beddin mo’ women, huh?” a voice spoke, but you were completely unsure if it was you or Shishikura who said it.

Judging by the way Shouto’s eyes locked on Shishikura and not yours, it seemed it was him who said it.

“No, I was doing something,” Shouto retorted, his hand gripping the strap of his backpack, his eyes shifting between you and Shishikura. “A paper for class.”

“Sure,” you end up speaking up, your voice sounding completely sober. You sit up so that your elbow is resting on Shishikura’s nearest shoulder. You raise the glass bottle to your lips, drinking its content without care, never once breaking eye contact. “What was the paper's name? You going after your TA? Or was it a professor by chance?”

Shouto’s eyebrows furrow, his face completely unimpressed by your comeback, but he remains silent.

“He looks like he’s trying to cosplay that one Young The Rock picture, no way would a dignified professor or TA fuck him!” Shishikura laughed with a loud bark, and all of a sudden, that was all you could see too.

The both of you howled with laughter, laughing and slapping each other as you attempted to drink the last bits of the rosés as Shouto rolled his eyes and walked away.

“This is fun. No wonder why you guys do it to me so often.”

As time does, it moves forward.

It seemed as if the entire campus had tuned in to what had transpired between you and Shouto. No one the slightest bit sure as to what happened, but everyone knew something big had happened. There was no more walking together before classes or after classes, no weird Instagram or Snapchat stories of the other, both of you never having to excuse yourself because you had plans with the other. Even though they claimed to not care about other people’s business, the school was suddenly invested in the single speculation that Todoroki Shouto’s and Y/l/n Y/n’s relationship was over.

“Breaking News, it was never a real relationship!” you would scream the first few times you heard it, which only worked to make them whisper louder that you were in further denial.

For the last seventeen years of your life, you had never gone more than two days without talking or seeing your childhood best friend. Those two days happened when Rei had experienced a staggering, hospital-inducing breakdown from stress and had subsequently burned Shouto when you were five years old. The two days were because he spent four days in the hospital. The first two days, he was not allowed visitors as the hospital staff put him under a coma to help his body from entering shock and heal. Of course, the moment he was awakened, you were dragging your mother to his bedside.

That was the only time you hadn’t seen or spoken to Shouto consistently.

But since Sunday evening, you had only seen Shouto once when you were drunk with Shishikura. You had only spoken to him then too.

For the first time in seventeen years, you broke your record of not talking or seeing Shouto.

From two days to five.

It was weird.

You felt almost empty.

So when Mina and Uraraka placed their arms around your shoulders, their eyes dead serious, you knew that they had a distraction for you.

“The deltas are throwing a party,” Uraraka spoke with mystery. “It is on Saturday.”

“It is only right that we go, get our asses so drunk our blood is practically a distillery, and fuck anyone who looks at us a second longer than anyone else,” Mina agrees, her tone wise and knowing as she nods her head.

“Our question to you is:” they spoke together, their voices weirdly, obviously practiced, in synch. “Are you in?”

Your tongue is pressed between your lips, your fingers pressing against the textbook you were using to help support your essay’s thesis, and you roll your eyes.

You grin.

“Obviously.”

And as time promises each and every time, Saturday finally came.

“What is our objective tonight?!” Mina screams over the background music that Jirou is blasting in Momo’s larger-than-life bathroom.

“To fuck bitches and get money!” Hagakure, the only one currently not downing a drink, screams back.

“NO, WRONG!” Mina shakes her head, climbing onto the white marble countertops and pointing at Jirou. “Kyo! Your turn!”

“To beat that prick in the sound booth and prove that I’m—”

“NO! Wrong again! Yaomomo!”

“Um, to make everlasting mem—”

“INCORRECT, YOU GORGEOUS PRINCESS! Tsuyu, don’t fail me, babe!”

“Well, it’s to prove to Todoroki that y/n-chan should be able to fuck any person she wants.”

“A bit lengthy, a bit focused on the wrong parts of it, but YES! Tonight’s operation: get y/n a man — preferably Inasa — who fucks the negativity out of her!”

You laugh loudly, rolling your eyes as you lean in closer to the mirror. You hold a Mike’s Hard in one hand, and in the other is your eyeliner as you paint on your makeup. You’re not really hearing the conversations that the girls are having, your own mind too lost in the music, and the swaying you’ve picked up as the three bottles of Mike’s you’ve had in the past thirty minutes are calming down your still frazzled nerves.

You don’t pull away from your reflection until after you’re done smoothing over your favorite lipstick on your pouty lips. You look over at your reflection and see Mina dancing with an awkwardly stiff Jirou and a delightfully giggling Momo on the bathroom countertops. A smile forms on your face, happiness radiating in your chest, and you grin looking at your friends.

But Shouto still sat in your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder why.

Why did it hurt knowing that he was avoiding you as much as you were him?

Why didn’t he just try to corner you?

Why did you care that he didn’t?

He was your best friend in the entire world, since your earliest memories, he’s been there, you reason, your whooping not quite as loud as you watch Jirou awkwardly be sandwich between a grinding Mina and a complacent Momo.

It was his fault you, you further reasoned, smiling widely at Hagakure, who was twirling around you, applying her lipstick as a super crazy never before seen talent of hers. He was the one acting like an idiot over the people you slept with even though you let all the people he slept with slide!

But why did you?

Your brows furrowed slightly, unfurrowing just as quickly as Mina pulled you and Uraraka up onto the countertop with her as Jirou and Momo dropped to the floor.

You fucking were in love with Shouto, damnit! Of course you let the stupid personal things go just to appease him! Your back straightened, your eyes rolling as you began to dance with the Kehlani music thumping in the background, but then you freeze.

You were in love with him.

You loved Shouto.

Not in a friendly, platonic, family way.

In an ‘I would date you if I could and marry you on the prettiest beach in front of the most beautiful sunset’ way.

You found that your body was dancing on autopilot as you began to reassess your thoughts, your actions, your wants with Shouto, desperately trying to disprove this love for him. But no matter what you did, you found that it was true no matter what angle you looked at it.

The bass dropped, and you went stiff, your body standing straight and tall although you felt incredibly, terribly small.

“I love him,” you spoke, although you’re not sure who to. Maybe it was to the laughing gods above you or the crying spirits around you. But the girls heard it for some reason, and they, as they were patiently waiting for these past six, nearly seven days, caught you as you went weak.

Finally, realizing that you were in love with your childhood best friend was not the conclusion you expected from a week's silence from Shouto and you. But as you were currently in a crop top with a mesh shirt underneath and the most ripped jeans you owned, chugging down a neon green and blue nearly toxic alcoholic drink, you realized that being at this party was the right way to conclude this circus of a week.

The rush of the liquid dropping down the beer bong was something you found yourself struggling to keep up with, and you felt some of the liquid pour out of your mouth as you grunt, trailing down your heaving chest, creating an image in your onlookers as you refused to choke or pull away. Swallowing the last bit of the drink, ripping the plastic tube out of your mouth, you threw your hands in the air, Tsuyu, who had held and poured the contents for you, screaming too as she lifted your arm in victory.

You couldn’t really hear the music anymore, much more entranced with the music you were singing on your own, and you were currently holding Mina’s face, touching foreheads with her as you spoke a mantra of your love for her.

“Ashido Mina, you are the baddest bitch in the whole wide world. I love your pink hair and your fat ass, and I would die for you. I love you… so fucking much,” is what you said. How it was actually said and how it was perceived is a whole other story because Mina laughed loudly and allowed you to hug her despite your sticky alcohol body.

Your twenties were the new two’s, it seemed.

“Yo, y/l/n!” a voice yelled, and although you let go of Mina’s face, your arms found a new home around her neck as you turned around.

“Hm?”

Your terrible drunk eyes looked all over before falling on a man wearing a basketball jersey and joggers.

Shindou Yo, one of campus’ manwhores. He had a reputation similar to Shouto, you knew that very well, but you were aware that he was disturbingly creepy. According to many vital witnesses, the man slept with just about anyone willing regardless of gender, so not only did you know what the girls thought of him, experienced with him, there was a wider demographic not even Shouto had entered. Number one thing to be told was the fact that Shindou was into some heavy, dark shit to an extreme, his room reeked of sex, and he himself smelled like booze, weed, and BO. But a strong dick was a strong dick at the end of the day.

“Come play beer pong with me?” he asked, his hands shoved into his pockets as he smiled innocently. “I’ve heard some pretty solid shit about your skills, and I want to see how I add up.”

“I’ll play!” you agree immediately, jumping at the thought of drinking more. “Bu I don’t wa’ beer… ish nashty.”

“Anything for you, darling.”

With your arm still holding onto Mina, you accepted Shindou’s hand and allowed him to drag you off to where he wanted to play the game of beer pong.

The game of beer pong went without a single thing going wrong. You were paired up with Shindou, and Mina had managed to find Kirishima in the crowd before you got to your destination and demanded she have him as a partner and not Monoma.

It was safe to say that you were drunk, disgustingly out of your mind. It was an intense game of Cup Pong, the two different teams equally as bad in the drunken stupor, but finally, the two teams were down to a single cup and Kirishima — who was the only reason why they were winning!!!! — had the last ball. You watched in terrible apprehension, fingers digging into Shinsou’s biceps as Kirishima rose the wet ping pong ball to Mina’s lips and let her blow on it for good luck before bringing it back in and began a few steadying practice throws.

“You know, I’m glad I saw you at this party,” Shindou whispers to you, his head ducking down so that you and only you could hear that.

“Why?” you say a lot louder than you wanted, your heart hammering in fear that you would lose this game.

“Because you’re sexy as fuck,” Shindou spoke, his voice turning deeper, huskier, “and now you’re single.”

You blink, attention stolen from the game as you forgot about the final cup and looked at Shindou with a blank stare and an open mouth.

“What?”

“Cuz you and Todoroki are over,” Shindou explains to you as if you’re a child. “You guys are over, right? That’s all everyone’s talking about, and all us guys are ready to fuck you whenever you’re ready.”

His smirk irritates you, the lust in his eyes angering you as you drop your hold on his arm.

“We weren’t together, and you knew that,” you say, eyes narrowing as the crowd watching the game explodes in raging cheers as Kirishima sinks the ball into the cup. “Why the fuck would Shouto be fucking every girl that walks if we were together? What makes you think I’d be okay with it?”

“You’re a cuck,” Shindou continues on, confidence unaffected. “Oh, are the two of you maybe changing roles now? Does the big guy want me to fuck you in front of him?”

Your fist makes contact with his throat before you can even stop yourself and the cheers quickly turn into gasps.

After apologizing profusely to the party holders, they decided that you could, in fact, stay at the party. Your knuckles throbbed in pain, the alcohol in your system buzzing in you in a way that wasn’t fun or relaxing as you made a simple side-step dance move in the middle of the dance floor. The girls, who had at the beginning of the party, drifted ways, had once more glued themselves at your side on the floor. You weren’t in a dancing mood as you took a drink of what you assumed to be a Moscow mule made by Mina for you to keep you at a high for the rest of the party.

Like hell you would ever let Shouto cuck you!

Let him fuck another woman in front of you?

You would go insane if he ever thought that would be acceptable.

“Down girl, relax!” Mina yelled by your ear. “I thought I was babysitting y/n, not Bakugou Katsuki!”

You startled, realizing that your frown had become a fierce snarl as you danced on the floor.

“Come on, babe, let’s get you feeling good again; let’s enjoy this night!” Mina exclaimed, her hands pushing your drink to your mouth and forcing you to chug the contents of the drink. The red Solo Cup is dropped to the floor as soon as you finish. She grabbed your wrists and began to fluidly move your arms — or as well as she could manage herself because she, too, was drunk.

But with Mina winking and smiling at you, the rest of the girls eventually throw themselves into your linked dance circle, your own negative emotions left and in came joy.

It took about another round of ten songs for the dance circle to be destroyed and to have all of you resuming a rave-like jumping and scream-singing as Jirou finally snuck her way into the DJ booth and succeeded to take over. You spun around at the end of one song, laughing completely out of breath as you clapped your hands together. You often forget that while Jirou only listened to a very specific genre, she was a musical genius who had banger playlists for every occasion.

It seemed frat parties were one of them.

However, the next song had your head tilting backward, your grin spreading even wider as you began to move your hips in slow, distinct movements. Dancing with your hips was something you had learned, something you instilled into your dancing category for as long as you could remember.

The beats were loud, deep, thumping deep in the ground and vibrating with great strength in your chest as you pointed a finger at Mina, who was also dancing similarly to you. Your lips moved as you sang the song quietly, the heat and humidity of the room suddenly pressing onto you like another person. You hummed, flicking the parts of your hair sticking to the nape of your neck off, grateful for the slightly cooler air hitting your sweaty skin.

As you rolled your hips down, your hands fanning yourself, trying to cool down your deliriously warm, alcohol-heated body, you froze for just a bit. A person pressed to your back, your ass pressing against a hot thigh, and a hand resting upon the curve of your thigh, keeping you in place. You might have cared, but the body against yours was a welcomed one. Your hips and ass continuing to move in tandem with the music, deliberate highs and lows, and you worked your way up and down the man's body who met yours with spinning accuracy that made you began to pant, your heart racing because this was hot to you. You raised your arms behind you, clasping onto his neck, keeping him on you.

His hair was soft under your touch, slightly sweaty but threaded and parted between your fingers just too easily. His left hand, which had found a spot on your stomach, was radiating heat, something easily felt due to you only having mesh cloth there.

It was slow.

Sensual.

Somehow familiar.

Absolutely mind-numbing.

His chest broad against your back, muscles strong and tight against you.

He was skilled, practiced. Someone you knew was not going to disappoint you, and as your lust-glazed eyes took in the entirely shocked looks of your friends, you finally turned to look.

Somehow, someway, you weren’t shocked at all to see Shouto’s clouded, dark eyes locking on yours. Your world seems to freeze as something between you and Shouto is so obviously broken between you, forever changing, no longer able to go back. It didn’t matter that this was the first time in almost a week you had seen him, had talked to him, he was there, and you wanted to feel his skin scorching against yours. His touch screamed of his want for you, your recognition of your love for him, and your current lust for him. You were angry, hurt, confused, but you were too drunk to care, too intoxicated on the spell the two of you created on this dance floor.

But even as your world froze, the music continued on.

Grabbing Shouto’s hand, you spun around so that his chest was now pressed against yours, your legs between his. You continued dancing, continued to roll your hips down as you sunk down to the ground as Shouto remained standing, his hand supporting and balancing you as you went down and up. He began to dance with you again, the world seemingly disappearing as the two of you ground and panted heavily in each other's ears.

He pushed forward, and you whined, feeling the blazing swollen heat of his semi-hard cock against your stomach, but you met him there.

Your fingers fisting in his hair as his hands found their way into your back pockets, gripping your ass, and your eyes fluttered shut as his mouth, blazing, intense, and intentful, mashed against yours. You kissed him back immediately, all defenses abandoned to that of your lust, wants, and needs. His mouth was a fire, his kiss a blaze that consumed you, drowned you, made you push for more.

It was a kiss that lasted who knows how long, but by the time you had separated, you could feel the familiar sting to your slowly swelling lips and the song that had ended.

His eyes were a near black, his cheeks flushed, and his arms kept you so close you had to think if you were in the privacy of your home or in public.

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice begging, pleading for him.

“I need you,” he responded, his voice equally wishing.

“Take me home,” you speak, lips pressing sloppy, desperate hot kisses to his neck. “Take me home and fuck me.”

“Fuck, yes, okay. Let’s go,” Shouto pants, his hands leaving your ass and grabbing onto one of yours before taking you and dragging you away.

It wouldn’t hit you until much later, but the very first kiss you had ever had with Shouto was in the middle of a dance floor, at a party where the male population had been ready to snatch you up after your relationship with Shouto was so-called over.

You were breathless.

No matter how deep you inhaled, you felt like you weren’t having enough oxygen flooding your veins, filling your lungs. You laugh loudly in the night, uncaring about the strangers you passed looking at you and Shouto, who chuckled and snorted with every giggle you made.

This felt crazy, insane, something serendipitous and not real even in the smallest of bits.

He kissed you.

He wanted you.

He said he needed you.

Wants and needs were different things, but he said need.

He needed you.

Just you.

Your feet ached from the running, but you could only focus on Shouto, your mind filling and swimming in the memory of his body pressed to you. The way his lips ghosted over your neck, and the way he danced against you — with you. The four-block walk back to your apartment seemed too far, and your eyes locked on a nearing alleyway.

With much more strength than you should have, you shoved Shouto into the alleyway, your mouth immediately pressing onto his.

Shouto groaned into your mouth, letting you drink his noises as you pulled him close, consuming him in a messy clash of teeth, spit, and tongue. You whined back, your legs slotting between his thigh and grinding down on the hard muscle. It alleviated the growing, scorching heat in your panties but also intensified it, making you want for more and more and more.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Shouto groaned in your mouth, shifting and guiding your rolling hips his thigh better, more fluid, more intense.

Your eyes barely cracked open, your mouth no longer kissing him put pressing against his in an open mouth pant. Your drunken breath saying nothing but implying the world.

Something Shouto was more than keen on giving you.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered for you to hear, so reverent, so holy. And so that you, the center of his world, the only thing he saw and believed in, knew how passionately, how ardently he believed in you, his mouth slid down your neck, and his teeth sunk in your flesh. He claimed you, praised you, making you a part of him.

“I’m still so mad at you!” you moan, voice pitched, whiny, and deliriously high. “I love you, asshole. I love you, and you sleep around! I love you, and I don’t care if you sleep around, but you care that I sleep around?!”

“I love you too,” Shouto mumbles against your neck, his teeth continuing to press into your skin that seems to explode with heat at the revelation. “I love, and I’m an idiot; I’m so sorry.”

And then he does something with his tongue against your neck, the soft of swipes, the wet tickling heat making your head slam back against the brick wall, and a mangled, strangled moan of unadulterated want emits from you.

“We'll talk about this in the morning,” you pant, fingers fisting in his shirt. “We can fix this, but right now, shut up and fuck me.”

“Y/n—”

“I’m horny,” you interrupt, hips sharply jutting into his leg. “You made me horny. Take responsibility.”

His eyes flashed dark, his nostrils flaring, and your words cemented in his head. He resumed his painting, his worship on your neck as you cried loudly in the alleyway, desperate, needy for more.

It was dizzying to have him on you like this.

For so long, you had only touched him in a few ways, had only ever felt a specific type of warmth. But this was unlike anything you’ve ever done with him, to him. It felt like you were burning and freezing, consumed by heat and energy and everything Shouto. His all too familiar cologne filled your nose, drowning your brain, invading your senses. His frantic heartbeat felt against your own body, telling you exactly how you were affecting him, how you made his heart speed and jump with every breathy whine.

“Fuck, I can’t do this. We need to get home now!” Shouto growls, his hands grabbing you by the wrist yet again and pulling you away.

His strides are long, quick, and powerful. You’re running to keep up, beautifully out of breath, staggering and stumbling to keep up in his objective to get back to the apartment now.

It doesn’t seem to take long before he’s pushing open the doors to the apartment complex, corralling you through the doors and into the elevator to get to the eleventh floor. The elevator doors are behind you, and with no one else in the life, you turn on him and immediately resume your own endeavor of claiming Shouto with your mouth, body, and soul. He matches your intensity, hands roaming from where the clasp of your bra sat to the curve of your ass. He grabbed you, pulled you in closer, the air in his nose staggering as you stammer against his mouth.

Teeth touch lips, tongues in each other's cheeks, and Shouto leads you out of the elevator backward, his one hand on your waist forever steady and the other one holding the key. Your fingers are back in his hair, pulling and tugging sharply on the soft, short strands with nearly disappeared gel. He gets to the door, fumbling with the key as you continue to kiss him, distracting him with the smallest of movements.

“Which room?” he asks against your mouth, pushing you through the threshold, his foot closing the door behind him.

The shoes are haphazardly kicked off and you’re now on your tiptoes to continue kissing him as you were. You tried to think, tried to figure out if you wanted to be surrounded by Shouto’s scent or to have him displayed in your room. His teeth then suckle on your bottom lip, biting down on the swollen, hot flesh just gentle enough that your mind draws a blank and your voice responds on its own.

“Mine.”

You shriek then, Shouto swiftly picking you up off the floor and you panic, hands swatting and beating on him as you scream to let you down. He continues walking, holding you without a worry, his arms remaining strong and firm beneath you. But with your distraction, with your lips no longer pressed sinfully against his, Shouto’s mouth finds a junction point on your clavicle and sinks his teeth down again, claiming you once more.

“S-Sho—” your voice hitches, the feeling too intense for you to process all at once. You hear your room door open and close, and without warning, you’re soaring through the air before collapsing on the bed.

“You think I go to the gym to get muscles for fun?” Shouto taunts, his fingers hooking under the dark grey t-shirt he’s wearing. “Angel, I go to the gym to make sure I can fuck you in any position, against any surface or wall you want.”

Your body feels like it's scorching as he removes his shirt, his muscles rippling and moving seductively with the devious, intentional movement.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Shouto asks, the shirt dropping to the floor, removing all traces of oxygen from your person. He steps closer, fingers circling around your ankle and suddenly pulling you in toward him until you were sitting at the edge, his lips hovering over yours. “Cat got your tongue?”

Your tongue feels dry in your mouth, but your eyes narrow before you push up and capture his mouth back with yours. He kisses you back deeply, bending down so that you begin to shift backward, allowing him the space to crawl onto the bed with you, and at the last moment, your leg wraps around his waist and spins the both of you. Shouto gasps as you pin him onto the mattress, your tongue invading his mouth, brushing and swirling against his, coaxing his own tongue back into your own mouth. With the wet heat in your mouth, your teeth playfully, just gently dig into his appendage and tug.

“No, but it seems like I got yours,” you humor him, your teeth releasing his tongue, and Shouto looks up at you like you were both the sun and the moon, and the stars were a gift to him.

It takes your breath away.

Shouto grins, shifting onto his elbows so that he’s closer to you before kissing you again.

The kiss is growing louder, both your mouths ever so consuming, trying to relay years of repressed, unknown emotions and feelings within a drastic, incredible touch. Your hips begin shifting against his crotch, humping his clothed erection, demonstrating yet again the power and grace you hold in your body.

Shouto’s hands move from your ribs up to your breasts, and with the hot, rough flesh of his skin, he squeezes your tender flesh. You moan into his mouth, hips bucking wildly against him at the sensation. It isn’t a powerful flesh, but a reminder, a demonstration of just what and where he could inflect passionate actions.

Your hands scour his chest, fingernails dragging teasingly down his firm, developed muscles, fingers flicking and teasing at his own exposed nipples. Shouto grunts into your mouth, hips bucking powerfully upward into your clothed cunt, and you splutter at the power behind it. But it seems as though Shouto is over the fishnet mesh shirt and crop top you’re wearing because he’s tugging it out of the waistband of your jeans and commands in a deep, lust-ridden voice: “Off.”

Goosebumps flash across your skin, bubbling and spraying across your sensitive skin as your shirt and crop top join Shouto’s on the floor. Your gasp loudly when Shouto rolls the both of you over swiftly, his mouth immediately pressing hot, viper kisses on your breasts. All thought and reason leave your mind as his teeth nip and pull. His fingers pushing the straps of your bra off your shoulders and shoving your boobs out of the bra in a firm hold.

“You have no idea how fucking long I’ve wanted to touch you, kiss you, fuck you,” Shouto whispers, his tone almost dark as his hot air fans against your already pebbling nipples. “Fuck, angel, you’re better than anything I’ve ever dreamed about.”

You whine loudly, fingers tangling in his hair as you desperately, wordlessly try to persuade him to put his lips around your attentive, eager nipples.

“I always forget you got these things,” Shouto says in wonder, his fingers touching the metal bars sitting so innocently, deviously on through your nipple. He tugs on the bar, and all the nerves in your breast fire and tingle, and your feet curl by his back as you whimper. “Fuck... I can’t believe I forgot…”

“S-Shouto, I fucking swear!” you almost screech, hands desperately pulling at strands of red and white, wanting his teeth and tongue and the suction of his mouth on your nipple. “Stop. Fucking. Talking!”

Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.

“Okay,” he says cheekily, and as if he read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your all too ready nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, clacking against the metal in your flesh. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, although you have no idea what you’re begging for. Your hips pathetically grinding into his clothed cock, trying to get yourself to cum while not having been touched. “Sho— Shouto!”

Shouto pulls away from your nipple with a loud pop. His breath panting, short, and overwhelmingly strained as if simply sucking your throbbing, needy nipple had given him the same amount of pleasure as it did you before consuming your forgotten one. Just as before, you melted against him, begging please, pretty please to him but never telling him what you were wanting. You didn’t know what you were wanting.

But unlike before, his hands leave their attentive position on your free nipple and slam your hips back down onto the mattress, keeping you down and still as he continued his ministrations until you were nipplegasming. You choked as the orgasm consumed you, your body going rigid and your eyes rolling to the depths of your head as his hot mouth was all you could think of. For a moment, the needy wet heat between your thighs was easily ignorable, something unneeded until Shouto was pulling away and kissing you again.

His chest was pressed tight against your own chest, your sensitive, overstimulated nipples rubbing against his chest with the welcomed friction as you let out a wordless, near-dizzy sigh into Shouto’s mouth. He kissed you with incredible passion, with dizzying heat, and consuming lust.

Your voice was so small, your voice easily drowned in Shouto’s mouth as your fingernails dug into his back and raked down pathetically, desperately proving that you were still here. Still fighting him on just who would win this night. Your fingers went down the curve of his spine, trailing down until you found the waistband of his sweats, and with his mouth everso distractingly on the swell of your breasts, biting, marking, and sucking hickies and his print on you for forever, he helped you slide the pants off.

In an almost dramatic fashion, his eyes burning deep into yours, leaving you stunned and a worshiper at his feet, he rose off your bed and let the pants fall. You shakily inhaled, your eyes suddenly transfixed and only seeing the hard, leaking dick that stood tall and proud against his twitching stomach. At the mere sight of him, you now truly, completely, and entirely understood just why the girls were obsessed.

From tip to the base, he was thick, the flush of his skin gorgeous, the curve of his cock optimal to fuck anyone. He was long, thick, and delicious—trimmed pubes of red and white and balls that had your mouth watering and going dry. You wondered, imagined, tried to visualize just how much it was going to hurt getting that in you. You’ve never had a man with a dick like that, never had to choke or fuck on something that looked like it would possibly render you stupid the moment you were impaled.

“Can I?” you ask, ‘can I touch you? Can I suck you?’ go unsaid.

“You owe me one,” Shouto says, his words teasing if it wasn’t for the way his voice betrayed him with the eagerness, the want and inexplicable tell that says if you don’t touch him, he will lose his fucking mind. “Please, do it.”

You’re dragging him back onto the bed, sitting him by your headboard, spreading his legs apart as you situate yourself between them. With a tentative, shaky hand, you reach out and grab on his dick.

His flesh is hot to the touch; it's hard and twitches just so at your grasp. Shouto lets out a gasp mixed with a whine, and you look at him with wide eyes and parted lips. Unable to help yourself, you lean in, your nose touching the underside of his length and nuzzling into the flesh. You look back up at him with hooded eyes, eyes dark with mirth, lust, and an overwhelming need to please Shouto. He stares back, eyes entirely too bright, almost scared, almost as if he can’t believe this is happening.

You smile softly, eyes breaking contact to look at the swelling cock in your hand, and then back at him as your tongue pokes out of your mouth and puts a long, wet stripe against his length.

And Shouto?

Shouto moans like a man who’s had warm food after days of starving.

You lick from base to tip, saliva mixing with precum as your mouth presses teasing, open mouth kisses down the length of his cock, tongue pressing against the sweltering heat of his balls.

“Fuck, y/n, stop teasing,” Shouto grits, his hips pathetically snapping into nothing, his hands desperately trying to touch you, to which you swatted him away each and every time. You tut, shaking your head. With both your hands fisting his dick at the middle of his length, your squeeze and pull in opposite directions.

The reaction is one that you were hoping for, Shouto’s head slamming to the headboard with a clash, his legs jumping just a bit, and precum coming out in even heavy drops. You laugh breathlessly at his display, enamored with how fucking easy he is to get to make noises. He’d never made noises before, no other girl had him the way you did, and that made you crazy with power.

Before you wanted to, your mouth consumed to head of his cock, allowing the musky smell that was completely and only Shouto to fully consume you. You sucked on his thick swollen head, tongue pressing on the leaking slit on his head as he choked on your name. You smile, taking him in further, straining against the weight in your mouth, the pressure on the back of your throat, and the stretch of your throat. As soon as you had him a bit way in, you were pushing out, his hips driving to find you but missing you. Shouto’s noise was almost broken, near needy, and your head spun with his noises. Unable to stop, you pushed in again, allowing the drive of his hips to send his cock further down your throat.

Tears filled your eyes at the action, his cock much too large, much too thick to be fucked into your throat as such. Your fists acted as a barrier as you adjusted, your throat humming, mouth moaning as Shouto lost himself to the heat of your wet mouth. You bobbed your head, fucking him diligently and intently with your mouth, driving him further down, your tongue and hollowed cheeks. You sucked his dick with the intention of ruining him, of making him fill your mouth and throat with him so he could never doubt that it was him you wanted, him you needed to consume. You let go of one hand, allowing it to fondle with his balls as his cock went further into your mouth, the sounds of your choking, gagging, and crying egging him on.

“You take me so good,” Shouto sang to you, whispering words that only you’ve heard. “Fuck, angel, take me all the way. I know you can do it.”

With his hands at the back of your head, your fingers squeezing his balls, and the shaky removal of your final hand on his cock, he drives his hips all the way up. Shouto curses loudly, and you choke, feeling the rush of cum shooting down your throat, and you’re let free.

“Swallow it all, don’t spit it up,” Shouto breathes, his body shifting upward, eyes intent, focused. “Let me see.”

You cough violently, mouth closed as you swallow the salty cum, only letting your mouth open to allow the drool and spit to drip from your flat tongue as you show him that you swallowed every last seed. He groaned, grasping you by the chin and pulling you back in for a passionate, all-consuming kiss. The taste of Shouto and his cum sat heavily in your throat, and you were shaking as he began to unbutton your jeans, shedding them off of you as he flipped you back around so that your back was resting against the mattress.

Salt sweat dripped down your neck, and Shouto left fingertip bruises on your waist, your knees and legs awkwardly kicking as you finally got your jeans off your ankles. You shuttered, feeling Shouto’s hot, spit-slick dick pressing against your stomach, your cunt flipping and twisting at the thought of taking him all in.

“You’re still, fuck… you’re still hard?” you gasp, Shouto’s fingers tracing the innards of your thighs, scratching at your ass, slapping it once, twice, leaving you pitched and shaking.

“How can I not be when you’re down beneath me?” Shouto asks, his eyes looking at you as if he was burning the very naked image to you in his brain for him forever. “You’re mine, right?”

The question itself, while unexpected, was not unwanted.

You feel yourself nodding, your fingers scratching up his flexed arms, “Yours and only yours.”

“Good,” Shouto smirks, leaning in, his entire weight on the one hand beside your head, making you groan as his lips were so close yet so far away. “I’m yours as you are mine.”

With that, his fingers pressed to your thus far, unattended to clit, your legs shaking, kicking the air as you howled in pleasure. But it was such an intimate place, something you never expected Shouto to ever touch, and so, in a voice so pathetic you couldn’t even recognize it as yours, you screeched: “D-Don’t touch that!”

Shouto cocked an eyebrow, his head tilting as his fingers swirled around your swollen nub, sending just enough electrifying pleasure through every neuron in your body. “Why not?” he asked, voice authoritative and curious and sadistic. “It’s mine — you’re mine. I can play with what’s mine whenever I want.”

The words make your entire will collapse, the words liquid heat in your ears and mind. You moan loudly, feeling Shouto adjust your hips, lining your spasming cunt with his cock, and with his tongue delving into your mouth, his lips pressing against yours, he slowly pushed into you.

Shouto was loud the entire way into you, the deep grunts, breathless moans, and mindless babble of how this was unlike anything he’s had before, better than anything he’s ever imagined. He bottoms out quickly, hands leaving purple bruises against your skin as you lay on the bed silent.

Your back is entirely arched, jaw slacked, voice dead on your tongue because the feeling of him buried deep within you is staggering. You let out a single tone noise, your mouth gasping for breath as your voice finally begins to come back to you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper over and over, your legs tight around Shouto’s hips, shaking with the feeling in you. “God, y-you’re so big, Sho… I’m—”

You can’t finish your sentence because he shifts just enough that his cock is meeting places in you that had never been encountered before. Your eyes roll back again, your fingers pressing ruby red scars to his back as you scratch and tear his back.

“You’re so fucking tight, shit,” Shouto pants, his mouth panting against the sweat on your collarbone, his own breathing heavy and spaced. “You’re perfect, y/n, so fucking perfect.”

You preen with those words, your mouth finding a home at his temple to which you kiss him, drag your lips down to his ear. You bite and nibble as you adjust to him buried deep within you. And he heaves a sigh and pushes up off you, eyes daring to stare into you as he huffs almost in disbelief of this entire night.

“I’m going to start moving,” he says, fingers scratching down your sides to your thighs. “Are you ready?”

Not trusting your voice, you nod. Shouto smiles, leaning back down for one last kiss to which you quickly returned, staying there as his hips moved backward before thrusting back into you. It's the first thrust of many, but your arms wrap even tighter underneath his own, your nails scarring his back as he goes again and again. You fucks into you deliberately, readily, with purpose and skill that speaks wonders and lives up to the many rumors you’ve ever heard.

His thrusts are powerful, slapping into your thighs with a mighty smack, making you whimper and wail into his salty neck as your hips lift up to meet his. It's a powerful dance, a dizzying cycle. His cock sliding up and down your puffy velvet walls, your weeping walls clenching him in a vice, unforgiving and unwilling to let go.

He speaks praises into your ear, your yours, your mouth.

“Such a pretty angel, moaning for me, crying for me, tell me you want my cock. Tell me you want me buried in your fucking stomach.”

You are converted to him in return, seeing him, speaking to him, devoted to him.

“Fuck, I want you more. Faster, harder! Don’t stop! I can feel you in my stomach, Sho! Fuck! Fuck me, fuck me fuck me!”

His weight is pressed on your thighs, spreading your thighs further apart, fucking into deeper, fucking you so powerfully, so desperately your soaked cunt squelches and drips your essence, soaking your bed and his legs. Your teeth sink into his skin, copper filling your mouth, and your vision feels missing as you are slamming your hips up, rolling them desperately to fuck back into him. You can feel his hand clutching yours, pressing it into the mattress as he somehow speeds up again, drilling you into the mattress, the bed creaking and bending under both your weight.

“More, more, more!”

And he gives, and gives, and gives.

You wail his name, the heat in your skin, tickling your clit and innards making you sweat, the alcohol on your skin sticking you to Shouto.

Shouto grunts your name, hisses your name, damns you heaven and back for having such a fucking grip on him. It's when he looks into your eyes, cock drilling into you at a speed and power that no human should ever obtain, one hand gripping yours and the other pinching and teasing your clit, you cum, bursting open at the seams.

Your orgasm is loud, clenching, all-consuming, and you drag Shouto down with you as he stammers, shudders, and cums deep within your womb. His seed spilling out of you as the both of you collapse onto the bed with breathless, thoughtless minds.

“Fuck,” he says.

“Right?” you chuckle.

And with your nose pressed to his sweaty, sex-lulled body, you fall asleep with his hands traveling up and down your spine. Hopefully, things would be well when you woke up.

P R E S E N T

To stop you from screeching so loudly you woke up the entire world, Shouto held his hand to your mouth, his eyes wide, terrified, and completely confused.

“Please stop yelling… my head hurts…” Shouto begs, his face completely exhausted but with that post-orgasm sleep glow.

“We had sex?!” you shriek, throwing his hand off your mouth. “We were mad at each other, and we had sex?!”

“Oh,” Shouto seems to remember, his head rolling before he sat up, bringing you up with him. “Right, we should talk about that, huh?”

“You think?!” you shriek, entirely overwhelmed with the fact that you had done so much embarrassing shit last night.

It’s quiet for a bit. The birds chirping outside an almost cheerful taunt as the both of you, for the first time in seventeen years, find it too awkward to talk. No one wants to speak first, to mention the elephant in the room, for once it happened, there really was no going back. Not that there was much to go back from.

“I’m in love with you,” Shouto finally says. It’s an admittance, a whisper that's strong despite it told in such a hushed voice as if you would laugh at him as he confessed. “I’ve actually been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Now that shocks you.

Your eyes are wide, and you’re staring at Shouto, unsure what to say, what to ask, but you know you need more answers.

“I know, hard to believe, huh?” Shouto chuckles, his hand running through his sex and sleep disheveled hair. “It’s true, though… I don’t remember not ever being in love with you.”

“No… no way,” you say, your body running cold, and you shiver. You remember then that you’re sitting up, and you’re very incredibly naked. Shouto notices and moves to grab a blanket at the foot of the bed and wraps it around you. “That doesn’t make sense,” you argue, your furrowed brows making your skin crease as you try to think back on all your years and memories, looking for signs in which Todoroki Shouto loved you. “You never showed it.”

“Camie said the same thing,” Shouto sighed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugged nonchalantly. “Before I was sixteen… I don’t know; I guess I could understand why. I only ever talked to you, always paired up with you. I let you hold my hand, and I let you hug me… I thought me telling you that I had never been kissed before would make you want to kiss me, but it never did. I know I was awkward and a little different when we were younger, so when I was paired up with Camie… I thought she would help me.”

“By fucking you?” you asked, your frown deepening as you remembered your bitter feelings over Camie stealing Shouto’s virginity.

“She… she said that by being sexual, maybe you would see me as a man, and not the four-year-old crying boy in preschool,” Shouto smiled sadly, his fingers picking at one another. “Me having sex was supposed to show you that I was a man who wanted to see you as a woman in return, but it didn’t work.”

“Well, no shit,” you snort, relaxing a bit although you felt limp. You found yourself leaning against Shouto’s strong shoulders, your head landing heavily on him. “You went from a virgin to fucking anything with a wet hole.”

“...yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Shouto said with regret, his shoulders sagging just a bit. “At first, I thought I needed to fuck more girls to prove I was a man to you because you acted like nothing had happened after Camie… but sex was fun, it felt good.”

“Sex is good,” you agree with a soft chuckle to which he returned.

He shifted a bit, arms tightening and relaxing before he finally admitted, “It helped distract me from you because you looked at others the way I wanted you to look at me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper back.

“No, don’t be,” Shouto speaks firmly, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It was my fault. I was never assertive enough, confident enough to simply confess.”

“So, does you being in love with me having anything to do with you driving the entire male population away from me?”

Your eyes look up at him, finding his embarrassed gaze before he glances away.

“That actually wasn’t intentional… I guess I just talk about you a lot.”

“Yeah, but still doesn’t mean you couldn’t ever deny it yourself!”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Apologize then.”

“Y/l/n Y/n, I am sorry for making the entire male population we’ve ever come across think we were an item and not telling them otherwise. I am sorry for keeping you from enjoying sex while I continued to. I am lousy, and my love for you should be unreturned because that was ass of me.”

You sigh, your lips pursed to keep from smiling as you looked back at his handsome face.

“Now, ask me the damn question, crybaby.”

“Crybaby?”

“You finally admitted that you were, in fact, crying!!!!!”

If you asked Shishikura Seiji what the worst thing about being the third roommate to Todoroki Shouto and you was, he would give a million and three answers as to why it was the worst.

One: he absolutely hated how loud the both of you were. Todoroki Shouto was someone he thought was quiet and introverted, but whenever he was around you, he was loud. You were just plain old loud, and he thought it was annoying.

Two: he absolutely hated your rice. Call it petty, but after you fed him on his first night and tried putting him into a chokehold for saying the song your rice cooker sang at its end was the stupidest fucking thing ever made, everything you made taste like ash and dirt.

Twenty: he hated that there were biweekly karaoke nights. He would be studying away in his room and wanted to die when he heard the all too familiar sound of Mamma Mia’s Here We Go Again blasting in the living room.

Hundred fifty-seven: SO. MUCH. FUCKING. SEX.

Three hundred thirteen: SO. MUCH. DRINKING.

Five thousand: SO. MUCH. WEED.

Ten thousand three: you put his toilet seat up whenever you’re drunk, so he falls in when he goes to pee in the morning.

Five hundred: the way the both of you looked at each other, fucking disgusting.

To say the least, there were a lot of many different reasons scaling from actual issues to petty small shit, but Shishikura was not in any position to find a new apartment, so he stayed. To be quite honest, having been living with Dumb and Dumber (you and Shouto, respectively), he only thought there would be one thing that would make him lose his actual mind.

The day that would inevitably come and the both of you realized your feelings were, in fact, returned. He didn’t want to even imagine how the animalistic sex he often had to hear coming from your hallway would increase, or the sappy stupid romantic love he would see in the living room because as best friends, you both had no care for PDA and if you were allowed to kiss? Allowed to have sex? He feared he would have to wear a hazmat suit in every corner of the apartment. You both were already incredibly loud as a duo (see reason one as to why he hates living here); he feared the worst when the mutual love was realized.

But he exited his room a week after that Sunday morning with a fully loaded water gun just in case. His eyes narrowed, the hair on his neck raised as his beady eyes focused in on the living room.

Shouto sat on the couch, his back on the armrest, and you sitting between his thighs as you watched him play some game on his Switch, your smile large and annoyingly bright, but he realized that he couldn’t hear you screaming or speaking so loudly he could listen to the conversation.

No, as a matter of fact, Shishikura couldn’t hear a single word; the words being exchanged between you and Shouto spoke so softly, so intimately, it shocked him. Shishikura noticed with an almost awed surprise that even though your smile was as annoyingly bright as before. It wasn’t directed at anything but Shouto, and Shouto’s smile, while nowhere near as big, just as warm and full to you.

It was intimate, romantic even.

Nothing had changed in your relationship except now, finally, now, you were allowed to kiss and fuck each other like heat-driven animals.

Shishikura was shocked to his core, unable to comprehend the sight in front of him.

You nor Shouto paid him any mind, too lost in the game and in each other to look his way as he made his way into the kitchen for his lunch. Shishikura set the water gun on the counter, a small smile spreading on his face despite himself, and chuckled.

Maybe the two of you together weren’t something to hate on after all.

“Hey, is that a water gun?!”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

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bratdesire · 4 years

Text

Your Dad, My Daddy

Pairing: Ukai Keishin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, age gap, older man/younger woman, barely legal, squirting, rough sex, daddy kink, alcohol mention, questionable ethics, d/s dynamics, overstimulation, degrading language, touch of subspace, unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight dubcon if you squint but it’s all consensual, Ukai’s dick is pierced, exhibitionism(?)

Genre: Smut, just so much smut

Word count: 9.4k

Author’s note: Here is my contribution to the new HQHQ collab!! You can find the masterlist right here! Big big thank you to @sempiternal-amour and @inaflashimagine for beta-ing this monster fic, ilysm <3 This is so incredibly self-indulgent, I even inserted my nickname ~for spice~. Anyways, enjoy my incoherent screaming uwu

Summary: When you go over to your friend’s house for a study session you don’t anticipate meeting her very attractive father, and you surely don’t anticipate the very same man fucking you over their couch.

“Hey, I apologize in advance for anything weird my dad says or does. You know how dads are,” Hitomi explains as she pulls into the driveway of her house.

It’s small but nice and well-manicured, situated in the cul de sac of a middle-class suburb.

“Dad, we’re here,” she shouts up the stairs, setting her keys on the small table next to the front door. Hitomi’s gaze drifts to the tall, dark haired man sitting at the kitchen table and your own gaze soon follows. “Oh, there you are.”

She quickly pecks the man on his cheek before walking over to the shiny silver fridge, pulling out a couple bottles of water. “Dad, this is Bunny, Bunny this is Dad,” she gestures between the two of you.

When her father glances up from his phone to give you a nod of acknowledgement, you’re taken aback by how handsome he is.

You can tell from the slight wrinkles around his lips and the crinkles by his eyes that he’s definitely a much older man, but other than that he’s flawless. The angle of his jaw is sharp but soft, lower face darkened by his five o’clock shadow. His chocolate brown eyes are complemented by plump, pink lips that would look even better swollen and shiny with saliva. Dark, shiny locks are gathered into a low ponytail and you wonder how they would feel fisted in your fingers. He’s gorgeous in a rugged, mature way that boys your age aren’t and could never hope to be.

Hitomi never told you her dad was hot but then again, why would she?

“Mr. Ukai, it’s nice to meet you,” you greet him.

He waves his hand in the air dismissively, “Ah, you can just call me Keishin. No need to be so formal.”

Hitomi mutters a frustrated “shit” under her breath and it takes you a few moments to tear your eyes away from the man in front of you.

“I left my textbook in the car, I have to go grab it,” she sighs then turns to her dad. “You, don’t scare off my friend, please.”

Keishin puts a hand on his heart, a falsely serious expression on his face. “I won’t, scout’s honor.”

She just rolls her eyes, exiting the kitchen the same way you entered. The front door slams shut, leaving you alone with your friend’s very hot dad.

Keishin looks up at you then quickly looks away, unsure how to interact with his daughter’s friends. “So is, uh, Bunny your real name?” he asks, nervously rubbing the back of his head.

Leaning against the table he’s seated at, you fold your arms across your chest, fully aware of how low cut your top is. You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly flicker down to your cleavage then back up to your face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I… I’m just trying to make conversation,” he laughs nervously.

“Hm, well, the short answer is no. You’ll have to get to know me a bit better before I give you the long answer.”

He snorts, pushing his chair back and rising to his full height. “What gave you the confidence to speak like this to your elders?”

Taking a step towards him, you twirl a piece of hair around your finger and shyly peer up at him through your lashes. “I don’t know, but maybe you can teach me how to behave.”

A light blush colors his cheeks and his eyes widen with surprise. “I-I don’t know what you’re implying, but it’s not... appropriate,” he stutters, taking a step backwards to try to put some distance between you.

You sidle up to him, reaching out a hand to caress his well-muscled arm. When he makes no move to stop your petting, you bite your lip and get on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Who said we had to be appropriate?”

His mouth is slightly agape, lips moving every so often, as if he wants to say something but doesn’t. “I—” he starts.

The sound of the front door slamming open makes you both jump apart, trying to appear as casual as possible.

“I got it! We can go study now,” Hitomi proclaims, waving the book around in her hands. She glances at you, then at her father and notices the way you’re completely turned away from each other. “Oh my God, Dad, what did you do?” she groans.

He holds up both hands in surrender, shaking his head emphatically. “I didn’t do anything! Why do you always think I did something?”

Your friend strides over to lightly punch his shoulder, a disapproving but loving expression on her face. “Because you’re weird and lame. Besides, between you and Bunny, I’m always going to assume that you’re the guilty party.”

You find yourself chuckling at their banter, touched by how close they are. It’s evident that Hitomi and Keishin care a lot about each other, regardless of how much they tease each other and guilt twists in your gut when you remind yourself that you were flirting with him. She likely wouldn’t forgive you for trying to sleep with her dad and it would cause a great deal of damage to their relationship, possibly beyond repair if she knew he was into girls her age. To make matters worse, you’re two years her junior. What man would sleep with a girl younger than his daughter?

But your morals are tossed right out the window when you take in the sight of Keishin’s radiant smile—all straight, white teeth and eyes that shine like pools of dark honey. It’s in that moment that you decide you’re going to seduce that man if it’s the last thing you do.

Sorry, Hitomi. Kind of.

---

“Okay, so L-Tyrosine is one of the twenty amino acids used by the body to synthesize proteins. It is also an aromatic amino acid derived from phenylalanine by hydroxylation in the para position—oof!” Hitomi’s droning is cut off by the pillow you send hurtling towards her head.

You sit up on her bed, squealing obnoxiously as you stretch. “Hitomi, I love you, but please shut up. My brain is melting. We’ve been at this for three hours now, can we take a break?”

She closes the textbook in her lap and pushes it to the edge of her desk. “Fine, fine. We can take a twenty minute break, but we have to go right back to studying because finals are this week and I cannot afford to fail,” your friend warns, despite how she whips out her phone at lightning speed.

Picking at a stray thread on the comforter, you gently try to get her attention, “Hey, Tomi?”

“Hm?” she responds, barely glancing up from the video she’s watching.

You’re not sure how to broach the subject, but you’ve never been one to beat around the bush so you just come right out and say it. “Has anyone told you your dad’s kinda hot?”

That makes her stop, her head jerking up from her phone at lightning speed. “What!? That old geezer?” She sounds dumbfounded, incredulous at the prospect that someone would be interested in her father.

“Yeah girl, he’s a total DILF,” you confess, making a little fanning motion with your hand like you’re burning up inside just thinking about him, and it’s not that far from the truth.

Hitomi makes no effort to hide her feelings, disgust clearly evident in her delicate features. “Ew! You have to be joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking! He’s really sexy,” you muse dreamily.

She claps both hands over her ears, yelling at the top of her lungs to drown you out. “I never want to hear you say that my old man is ‘sexy’ ever again!”

You childishly stick your tongue out at her. “Hey! I’m just speaking the truth. You have to have had friends say the same thing.”

Removing her hands from her ears, she brings one up to stroke her chin, seemingly deep in thought. “Now that I think about it, back in high school my friends were a lot more enthusiastic about coming over once they met my father.”

You feel vindicated by her personal testimony, even if she thinks you’re gross. “See? I’m not the only one who finds your dad ridiculously attractive.”

Hitomi gags dramatically as if she’s going to puke and judging by the look on her face, she just might. “Please, no more, I’m begging you.”

“Fine, fine I’ll stop, but don’t act surprised when I become your new stepmom,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows at her.

“You’re younger than me, don’t even joke about that,” she shudders in horror. “Okay, with that we need to get back to studying amino acids and proteins.”

“Whatever you say, future stepdaughter.” You muster your best motherly voice, sickeningly sweet and a touch passive aggressive.

This time, it’s Hitomi’s turn to throw a pillow at you.

---

Since the day you met Keishin, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. Even when you’re in class trying to learn about the sodium-potassium pump, you find your thoughts drifting to his hands, his lips, him. He’s simply become too distracting to ignore.

More times than you care to admit, you’ve fucked yourself with your fingers to thoughts of how his fingers would feel pumping inside you. You fantasize about how his hand would feel around your neck, squeezing with just enough pressure to make your vision hazy. His name is always on the tip of your tongue when you orgasm and when you finally let yourself moan out ‘Keishin,’ you know enough is enough. A man his age has to know exactly how to make a woman scream and writhe in pleasure, but you need to experience it for yourself or you’ll die trying.

You’re not oblivious to the way he looks at you with hunger and longing in his eyes, you know he wants you too and you’re not above using dirty tricks to show him just how much you want him.

If he’s too proud, too noble to give in to his urges, you’ll just have to break him. His resolve may be strong, but yours is stronger.

Your efforts begin innocently enough, gently probing him for more information about himself so you can get to know him better.

“I’ve noticed you don’t wear a ring. Is there a Mrs. Ukai in the picture?” you ask innocently.

Keishin clears his throat a bit too loudly, refusing to meet your questioning gaze. “Nah. It’s just me and Tomi, always has been.”

“Any… future Mrs. Ukai in the picture?”

The corners of his lips twitch slightly, the barest of smiles tugging at his handsome features. “Can’t say there is. Between the store and coaching volleyball, I don’t really have the time to date.”

You nod and make a noise of acknowledgement, relieved by the confirmation that he is in fact very, very single. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not a homewrecker.

On another occasion, you’re seated on their plush leather couch and Keishin’s in the well-worn La-Z-Boy recliner to your left. You’re watching some Adam Sandler movie on Netflix, but it’s paused while Hitomi is in the bathroom.

You take your alone time together as an opportunity to question him more, toeing the line of what would be considered proper. “So, Keishin, how old are you? I know Tomi’s twenty-one so you must be…” you trail off, hoping he’ll humor you.

He takes a swig of the beer in his hand and your eyes instinctively flicker down to watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Old.”

You roll your eyes and prop your chin up on your hand, readjusting your position on the couch so you’re leaning closer to him. “Obviously, but just how old?”

“Why do you want to know so badly?” he asks, head tilted and a well-groomed eyebrow lifted questioningly.

“I was just wondering if you’re older than my dad,” you tease.

His shoulders shake slightly as he chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m forty-four. Do I have him beat?”

“He’s forty-two, so just barely.” Your steady, unwavering eyes lock onto his own, which are glassy and unfocused from the alcohol. When he brings the bottle to his lips once more, you nonchalantly add, “Maybe I should call you Daddy instead.”

Keishin coughs and sputters in surprise, causing him to choke on his beverage and a spray of sticky beer splatters across your face.

Apologies tumble out of his mouth as soon as he realizes that your cheeks and hair are dripping with the craft IPA he was drinking. “I-I’m so sorry! I’ll get you a towel,” he blurts, shooting up from his chair.

In his panic and embarrassment, he rushes toward the linen closet and you can’t help the giggles that escape your mouth at how uncoordinated he is, now several drinks in. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal,” you reassure him, wiping your face with the back of your hand for emphasis.

He returns from the rummaging around the hall closet, a dark blue towel in his hand, which he offers to you with a nod of his head.

No matter your protests and assurances that you’re fine, Keishin is even more insistent in offering you the towel to clean yourself up. When you refuse to take the towel from him, he kneels down next to you and leans in to dab at the foamy liquid that has soaked into your hair.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his fingers on your jaw and you almost squeak at his close proximity. He hasn’t let you near him since your first encounter and now he’s right in front of you, so close that his breath curls around your cheeks, smelling of malted hops and the slightest hint of peppermint. You can map out the slight freckles on the bridge of his nose and each long, curled eyelash that brushes his cheeks each time he blinks.

He’s truly a beautiful man, all sharp angles and rough stubble and you can feel your cheeks warm when you realize that he’s right there. If you leaned forward just a little bit more, your noses would brush against each other.

A deep, rumbling voice interrupts your daydreaming. “Kid, are you even listening to me?”

You blink a couple times, coming to the realization that he’s been trying to talk to you for the last few minutes, but you were too busy admiring his beauty.

Keishin shakes his head as he leans back on his heels, using one hand to rub his face wearily. “As I was saying, you can’t just… say things like that. I know young girls sometimes have fantasies about older men like me, but I’m telling you now that it’ll only end badly,” he sighs. “I’m not a righteous man, I have my vices. God, do I have lots of them, and I don’t need another one.”

He mumbles the last sentence, barely loud enough for you to hear, despite how close you are.

Another one? Is he admitting that the attraction is mutual? You have to know, you just have to. Your body practically aches from how badly you want him.

“Keishin, I—” you start, reaching out to touch his arm, but he stands abruptly and quickly turns to shuffle away from the couch.

“This just isn’t a good idea, kid. Just forget about me, alright?” he says, his back to you. A tinge of regret and hesitation seeps into his words, as if he wants to take back everything he’s said.

After the beer incident, the man is even less receptive than he was before, making every effort to avoid being alone with you.

Even still, you’re not discouraged because he never outright rejected you. If he had, you would’ve stopped your pursuit weeks ago, but he only seems to be trying to maintain his composure as a righteous man.

Righteous men are wolves in sheep’s clothing, always putting on a facade so they can claim plausible deniability when they’re caught with their pants around their ankles. But no matter how honorable or virtuous a man tries to be, none of them can resist a wet, willing pussy laid out in front of them and Keishin is no exception.

That’s why you’ve shown up to their house the last few weeks in skirts far too short to be considered decent, flashing little peeks of your underwear each time you move too much or bend over too far. Each time you bend over to grab a pencil or a piece of paper off the floor, Keishin is always conveniently positioned behind you so he gets an eyeful of your pretty lace panties and the little dark spot where your wetness has soaked through the fabric.

After you retrieve your item from the ground, you look over your shoulder to make direct eye contact with him and say ‘oops,’ without a hint of regret in your voice. You revel in the clenching of his jaw and the way he exhales loud and heavy through his nose, frustration mounting each time you try to provoke him.

When your ass and clothed pussy are on display for him, you make sure to wiggle your hips a bit, an open invitation to fuck you the way you both want to. It never fails to elicit some sort of reaction from the older man, ranging from a few groans and a choked cough, to making a very hasty exit, a book or some other object held over the front of his jeans.

Without fail, Hitomi expresses her concern each time her father storms out of the room, red-faced and breathing heavily. He just waves her off, telling her he’s not feeling well, but you know the truth. He’s painfully hard, painfully hard from you, even if he doesn’t admit it.

Truthfully, if you weren’t trying to get him to fuck you so hard you can’t walk you would applaud his self-control and restraint. Even after weeks of teasing and provocation, the man refuses to give in to his desires.

That’s okay. If he’s not going to come to you, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands.

----

It all reaches a tipping point when you’re unable to go home for winter break and Hitomi offers you their guest room to stay in for a few weeks.

Apparently she never asked her father for permission, if Keishin’s shocked, slightly panicked face when you walked through the door with your suitcase was any indication. When he tried to question Hitomi about whether or not it’s such a good idea for you to stay, she wasn’t having any of it and told him that you’re a friend in need.

Hitomi’s so sweet and caring that you feel a twinge of guilt for plotting to seduce her father in her house when she’s none the wiser. She just wanted to lend a helping hand by letting you stay with them, oblivious to your true plans, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Now that you’re under the same roof, all you really want to do is ambush Keishin as soon as possible, but you have to plan around Hitomi’s schedule so you have bide your time. What’s the saying? Good things come to those who wait?

And wait you do. You wait for two whole weeks, in fact. But then the stars align so perfectly that some otherworldly force must be looking out for you.

Hitomi is gone to work and won’t be back until the middle of the night when her shift is over, while Keishin is home reviewing footage from his team’s latest game.

He told you he does this right before a big game so he can tell his players what they need to improve on and get in that last bit of refinement before the day of. When he clued you in on his strategy you just nodded and hummed, not really listening, mostly focused on ogling his muscles through his thin t-shirt.

Your nerves have been buzzing since you woke up this morning, sensing the heaviness in the air. You’re wearing your prettiest lace panties and its matching bra and frankly, you’re feeling pretty damn confident. You look good and you know you look good. If you were trying to seduce any guy your age, they’d drop their pants as soon as they got a little glimpse of your underwear, but Keishin’s not any guy your age. He needs a little convincing, a little push in the right direction, and you’ll be the one to help him.

You’ve flitted around the house all day, just trying to find the right moment to pounce.

Currently, Keishin is sitting in the living room watching the recording on the big flat screen in the living room. He looks preoccupied with taking notes on the notepad in his lap, but it’s now or never, you suppose.

Before you try to talk yourself out of it, you stride over to where he’s sitting and put your hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey. Did you need something? I’m kind of busy analyzing my team’s last game.”

Not wanting to lose your nerve, you wordlessly swing one leg over his, then the other, planting yourself firmly in his lap. His entire body goes ramrod stiff, hands jerking away from your body as if you’ve burned him.

“W-what do you think you’re doing?” he stutters, alarm evident in his voice.

When he makes no move to throw you off his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, pressing your chest to his.

“What we both have been wanting to do since the day I met you,” you purr, lips barely brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers when you gently nibble on his earlobe and your confidence only grows as you discover that he wants this just as much as you do.

“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn't right. I’m your friend’s father and I’m... old enough to be y-yours,” he mutters, running a hand through his already messy hair, conflicted with how to proceed.

You can’t tell whether he’s trying to convince you or himself, so you decide to give him a little encouragement.

Leaning back slightly, you run your hands down his chest and bite your lip. “Are we going to keep playing games or are you gonna fuck me? Because if not, I’ve got several guys back at college who—”

You’re cut off when Keishin’s hand wraps around your throat, the other braced against your back to pull you flush against him.

“You think your little stunts are cute, don’t you?” he growls, his minty breath washing over your face.

“What, you don’t think so, Daddy?” you pout, batting your eyelashes at him innocently.

His eyes flash with something hot and primal and you can feel the gush of wetness between your thighs. “I’m getting a little tired of them,” he growls.

“This,” you palm at the bulge straining against his pants, “Tells me otherwise, you know.”

The hand around your throat tightens, cutting off whatever bratty remark you were about to make. “I’ve had enough of you prancing around my home in tiny skirts and flashing me your panties when my daughter is around. It’s unbecoming.”

“Then t-teach me a lesson,” you gasp, struggling to speak with Keishin’s fingers so firmly wrapped around your throat.

The way he grins is downright sinful and it stokes the fire already raging inside you. “Careful what you wish for, little girl.”

With some manhandling on Keishin’s part, you’re shoved toward the couch then pulled back onto his lap, but this time you’re on your stomach and both your wrists are pinned behind your back.

“Before we go any further,” he starts, trailing his fingers down your spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I have to ask… How old are you?”

You twist around to look him in the eyes, a defiant smirk on your face. “Old enough.” Your mischievous giggle is cut off by a swift, firm slap to your ass.

“Watch the lip, brat. I need a little more reassurance than that.”

“Since you’re just so concerned, I’m nineteen. Perfectly legal and more importantly, legally fuckable,” you say, punctuated by an enticing wiggle of your hips.

“Jesus, you’re two years younger than Tomi. What am I doing?” He seems lost in thought as the honorable side of him fights a losing battle against his baser, carnal instincts. Whatever reservations he has are thrown aside when you start to wiggle in his grasp, maneuvering yourself over his crotch to grind yourself against his hardness.

Keishin gathers your hair around his fist, harshly jerking your head so far backwards that your spine aches from the unnatural angle.

“Stop fucking squirming. You just don’t know how to behave, do you?” It’s phrased like a question, but he shoves two of his fingers in your mouth so you can’t respond.

You knew Keishin would be the perfect dom, but the ease with which he settles into the role makes your head spin and your insides throb. Latching onto his digits, you lick and suck like the good girl you are, coating them in saliva as he hums in appreciation.

“Foo wans tuh behav wen thith is wutt I ge fo bein ba?” you ask, garbled and muffled by the fingers massaging the back of your tongue.

A series of harder, heavier spanks make you squeal and squirm even more in his lap. He gently rubs his hand over your warm, stinging flesh as he speaks. “Such a troublemaker. Just what am I going to do with you, hm?” He tries to sound admonishing, but you can tell he’s smiling behind his words.

His hand leaves your ass, no doubt raised to spank you again, but before he can, you bite down on his fingers. Not too hard, just enough for him to jerk them out of your mouth. “You can do whatever you want to me, Daddy.”

You jolt when his thumb rubs against your pussy through your panties. They’re soaked with your slick, the material clinging to your skin uncomfortably. The barest touch has you gasping and pushing your hips back for more. You’re so sensitive from the teasing and you’re so turned on you just might pass out if you’re not filled up soon.

Keishin just laughs darkly at the pathetic humping of your hips and you can feel the rumbling in his chest. “This is what I love about girls your age. So sensitive…” He pulls your panties aside and gently eases a finger inside you, then another as you moan and shake in his lap. “And so reactive. I bet you’d cum just from me putting my cock inside this tight, wet cunt, wouldn’t you?”

He speaks with a hint of condescension that has you clenching around his digits, coating them in sticky, syrupy strands of your arousal as they pump in and out of you. You’d almost be embarrassed at how worked up you are if you had more self respect, but you don’t. All you can focus on is the way his fingertips curl into the little spongy spot inside you that makes you whine.

“Why don’t you try it and find out?” The challenge in your voice is severely dampened by how breathless and wrecked you are even though you haven’t really even done anything.

His fingers pull out of you with a lewd squelching sound and you can hear him suck them into his mouth. “You taste even better than I imagined, but I want to taste that sweet pussy of yours. Up, little girl.” He coaxes you from his lap and onto the couch so your back is nestled into the cushions.

Sweat is making hair stick to your forehead and you’re breathing so heavily you’d think you just ran a marathon, but Keishin is looking down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world and it nearly steals what little breath you have left in your lungs.

Oxygen is the last thing on your mind when his lips slot themselves between yours, soft yet demanding as they suck and lick. The movement of his lips doesn’t falter when he pulls your shirt over your head to reveal your light pink bra. Keishin pulls back to kiss along your collarbones, neck, and chest, his teeth occasionally nipping your sensitive flesh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He expertly removes your panties with one hand so you’re left in just your plaid skirt, exposing your heated flesh to the coolness of the living room.

You’re nearly naked but he’s wearing far too many clothes for your liking, so you blindly grab at his shirt, but your fingers are shaking too much for you to get a good grip. Once he realizes what you’re trying to do, he puts his hands over yours and helps you take off his shirt. You nearly start drooling when all of his hard, rippling muscles and smooth, tan skin are finally revealed to your greedy eyes that can’t seem to settle one thing. You don’t know if you’ll get this opportunity again and you want to remember everything in painstaking detail, especially Keishin’s gorgeous body.

He momentarily disentangles himself from you to remove his jeans, leaving him in just his Calvin Klein boxer briefs. The outline of his cock is evident as it strains against the blue material and you reach out to stroke it, but he just takes your hand in his.

He brings it to his lips, then kisses up your arm until he reaches your lips. “All in due time, sweet girl. I want to taste you first.” Your mouth is claimed in another hungry, bruising kiss and you squeal when Keishin takes your lip between his teeth and bites, blood rushing to the surface of your skin.

His head dips down to leave featherlight kisses and teasing licks down your chest and stomach before he’s resting between your thighs. You whimper pitifully as he spreads your legs, awaiting the feeling of a wet tongue or his fingers against your folds. When he doesn’t move for several beats, you come to the realization that he’s just watching the way your cunt twitches and clenches around nothing and the wetness that drips onto the couch each time your muscles contract. You quickly bring your legs together to hide yourself from his scrutinizing gaze, but he simply pries them open with little effort.

Keishin grabs your chin so you’ll look right at him, squirming from the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t you dare hide this pretty pussy from me, do you understand? I am going to devour you until I’ve had my fill and you’re going to just lie back and take it.”

You nod obediently, your impudence quickly dying, giving way to the burning ache between your legs that can only be sated by a long, hard fuck.

With a satisfied hum, he settles at the apex of your thighs and licks a long stripe from your quivering pussy to your swollen clit and your hips jerk from the contact. Strong hands pin your hips to the couch as you writhe in his firm grip. He gives your clit a soft, quick kiss before he takes it into his mouth and sucks. You grab fitfully at his hair, back arching and hips pressing into his mouth as you gasp and groan from the incredible feeling of his tongue on your sensitive flesh.

His tongue teases your entrance and your cunt twitches, anticipating the first thrust of his warm, wet muscle inside you. He occasionally dips into your hole, but never breaches your entrance and you think you might go mad if he doesn’t give you more.

“I-I need more, give me more,” you manage to gasp, grabbing a fistful of the pillow underneath you as the tightening in your belly gets stronger.

Keishin removes his mouth from your cunt just long enough to admonish you for your lack of respect. “You need to have more manners if you’re going to demand things of me,” he says, before latching back onto your swollen, twitching clit.

“Daddy, pleeease I need more. Ah! I want to cum!” Your voice is so high-pitched and whiny you almost don’t recognize yourself, but you’re nearly delirious from pleasure and your impending climax that’s been dangled over your head for what feels like hours.

“Now who am I to deny you when you ask so sweetly?”

He thrusts two of his digits inside you, reaching deep inside you and rubbing against your g-spot as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. You’re almost screaming at this point, clawing at his hair and humping your cunt against his face. The familiar tightening in your belly signals that you’re about to cum and your moans and cries get faster, louder as the promise of white hot pleasure is just within reach—

It’s almost embarrassing how fast you’re teetering on the edge of climax, as if you’re a virgin school girl that’s never touched herself before. But maybe that’s the difference that years of experience can make.

Not that you care. You just want to cum.

“Fuck, Daddy, I—I’m close!”

Sensing your impending orgasm, the man uses his free hand to slap your cheek then grabs your throat. “Uh-uh-uh,” he tuts, “Ask Daddy for permission to cum.” You’re clamping down on his fingers impossibly tighter as he fingers you even deeper, and the way he sucks on your clit renders you incapable of speech. Each time you open your mouth to try to speak, more desperate, wanton noises escape your lips.

You’re about to fucking burst at the seams and you feel like you’re on fire, but you want to be a good girl for your daddy, so you use the last bit of brain power you have left to ask for permission.

“P-pleaaase Daddy may I ahhh! May I cum!” you ask, but you can’t even hear Keishin give his approval from how loud the blood rushing in your ears is as you finally cum.

You try to muffle your cries with the back of your hand, but he grabs your wrist and wrenches it away from your mouth.

“Don’t do that. I want to hear you scream.” His tone is clipped and short, not caring how rough he is with your delicate flesh.

If you weren’t already cumming, you would have from the pleasure that’s so intense, it’s almost painful as your body is wracked with tremors. Your legs snap around Keishin’s head and you grip his hair even tighter as wave upon wave of your orgasm washes over you. You hear someone screaming and wonder what’s happening, when you realize it’s you, you’re the one screaming as you ride out your climax.

He greedily slurps and sucks up every single drop of your release that you can give him, as if he was stranded in the desert for a thousand years and your juices are the first sip of water to hit his dry, parched tongue. Your cunt is already so sensitive, painfully clenching around his fingers, but he just. Doesn’t. Stop.

“Fuck, K-Kei, wait ‘s too much,” you weakly protest, but your body is too spent to resist so you just lie there, twitching and gasping as he keeps sucking on your overstimulated clit.

His lips detach from your poor, abused bud and you almost sigh in relief before the fingers inside your cunt pump faster, stimulating every inch of your gummy walls.

Keishin leans over your sweaty, exhausted form, one hand braced on the couch, the other buried inside you. His fingers are hitting a spot inside you that makes you feel the urge to pee, so you try to push his hand away but it’s futile with how much stronger he is than you.

“Hold onnn, I’m g-gonna—” you slur, panicked, but it’s as if he didn’t hear you.

His digits are relentless, rubbing and stroking and you’re a fucked out mess. You don’t know what he wants until an uncomfortable tightness shoots through your cunt. You cry out as clear liquid gushes out of you, splashing all over you, the couch, and Keishin. If you were more coherent, you might be mortified because you just… pissed on him—

To your surprise, he’s laughing as he removes his hand from inside you, ignoring your halfhearted groans. “I was hoping you’d do that,” he says, holding up his hand, shiny and dripping with your juices.

“D-Do what?” you pant, unsure of what just happened and why Keishin seems so smug.

He uses his discarded t-shirt to wipe his hand off, then dabs at your stomach where a sizable puddle accumulated. “Squirt,” he responds. When he sees your confused expression, he follows up with, “It’s not piss, if you’re worried about that.”

“Ooookay.” You’re too dazed and exhausted to argue with him or question him further, so you just flop into the sofa and close your eyes.

“C’mon, little girl, don't tell me that’s all you’ve got. You were talking so much shit earlier and I have so much more to give you.” Despite how tired you are, his words spark new arousal in your belly and defiance revitalizes you, movement returning to your limbs.

You slide a hand down your stomach and spread the puffy lips of your cunt, sliding a finger through your wetness. “Of course it’s not. I’m ready to take that hard cock of yours, Daddy.”

“Attagirl, that’s what I like to see,” he praises, dropping his underwear and sliding them somewhere you can’t see.

His cock is gorgeous, but that doesn’t come as a surprise, considering the man it belongs to. It’s thick and curved in a way that you know will reach the deepest parts of you.

What you weren’t expecting is the many piercings adorning the shaft and the one that goes through the head. A long curved barbell enters through the tip and exits through the underside of his glans. Three evenly spaced rings are embedded in the skin where his shaft meets his balls. You’ve never seen so many piercings on one man, let alone in such a sensitive place, so you gawk at the smooth metal rings that shine in the overhead lights.

“You’re… You have…”

He grins widely and it’s so devilish you think he might swallow you whole and honestly? You’d let him. You’d let him do whatever he wants to you. “Haha, yeah I get that reaction a lot. Never seen a pierced cock before, huh?”

“No, but there’s a first time for everything. I’m dying to see how those,” you point to his piercings, “Feel inside me.”

Keishin wordlessly climbs on top of you and rubs the head against your wetness, spreading it along his shaft to ease his entry. “They’ll feel fucking incredible, but you’ll have to beg for it.”

You scoff, reaching to grab his hips so he’ll fuck you already, but he scoots backwards so you can’t touch him.

“Naughty girls that misbehave don’t get fucked, so you’d better smarten up quickly,” he warns, making you gasp as he thrusts his cock against your clit.

He lazily nudges the head over your flesh, occasionally letting it catch on the tight ring of muscle around your hole. When he slots between your pussy lips, you try to wiggle and hump your hips in his direction, in hopes that he’ll slide right in.

But he doesn’t, and you’re about to go mad with his cock so close, but so far away.

“Please fuck me Daddy. I need your cock so bad!” You’re on the verge of tears, the buildup of the last few weeks overwhelming your senses.

Making a noise of sympathy, Keishin pets your hair affectionately and kisses your cheek. “All you had to do was ask.”

His hips pull back, then he’s thrusting inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt in your tight heat. You whimper and whine at the sudden intrusion, but any pain you feel is overshadowed by the way that his cock is filling you so full. The burn and stretch hurts so fucking good that your orgasm hits you like a freight train, fast and hard and blinding. Keishin fucks you through it, his cock touching all of the sensitive spots inside you and the pleasure is so strong you have to screw your eyes shut as you cry out and fall apart around him.

When you open them again, the man is staring down at you with the most shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. “See? I said you’d cum as soon as I put my cock inside you.”

Using all the strength you can muster, you slap his arm. “Shut up and just fuck me.”

“You still haven’t learned your manners, but I just can’t wait to shoot my cum deep inside this cute cunt of yours,” Keishin groans, pulling almost all the way out before burying himself back inside the hot, welcoming clutch of your pussy.

You can feel each of the metal rings on his cock, foreign and strange, but the odd feeling soon fades to little shocks of ecstasy each time they brush against your insides.

The lewd slapping sounds of skin on skin are all you can hear besides the occasional moan or hiss from the man fucking you within an inch of your life, not that you can focus on anything else right now.

You nudge at Keishin’s shoulder and he stops the rapid pistoning of his hips, an almost annoyed look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, but you just smile and push him backwards onto the couch, just like you were. He grunts in surprise as he falls backward, but he quickly quiets down when you climb on top of him and sink yourself back down on his length.

You both moan in unison as he fills you once more, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix each time you force your cunt back down on him. His hands wander to your tits, grabbing, squeezing, and pinching the sensitive buds of your nipples.

Ever the troublemaker, you can’t resist making a jab at him now that you’re on top. “I wonder what she’d do if she knew you were with me right now. What would your daughter say about you taking advantage of a young, helpless girl?”

Keishin takes that moment to pull you against him, thrusting hard and rough into your gummy walls that never stop pulsing around him. You’re shaking and gasping, your tongue lolling out of your mouth in your pleasured delirium. “With the way your greedy, sloppy cunt is clenching around me, I wouldn’t say I’m taking advantage of you,” he points out, only slightly out of breath. “But you get off on this, don’t you? Letting an old man like me fuck you. I’m old enough to be your father.”

“Like you’re any b-better,” you bite back.

You cry out when Keishin starts rubbing your swollen clit in tight little circles, your third orgasm fast approaching.

“Fuck! I can—urgh, I can feel your pussy pulsing around me. I’m g-gonna cum,” he grits out, thrusting impossibly deeper inside you. He's pressed so far into you, he’s just thumping the head of his cock against your cervix. You scream and write in his arms, seeking to relieve the sharp burning in your womb just a little bit, but he has you firmly locked in his clutches. “Be a good little girl and cum for Daddy.”

Almost on command, you shake and moan, loud and long, as you cream all over his cock and coat the base in milky white. “Oh fuck, oh god! D-Daddy I’m cu-mming!” you wail with the last of your energy.

You’re so exhausted you go limp against him and let him use your body as a fuck toy until he reaches his climax. Keishin follows soon behind you, his thrusts growing sloppier and less coordinated as he mumbles obscenities under his breath. “Shit shit shit, fuck I’m cumming! I’m gonna—fuck!”

With one last thrust into your fluttering, over stimulated cunt he orgasms, his legs shaking as he shoots rope after rope of cum into your quivering womb.

You both lay there for several minutes to catch your breaths. You’re so sore and boneless you can barely move, but you manage to extricate yourself from Keishin’s long limbs. Leaning into the arm of the couch, you let your eyes flutter closed and allow sleep to take you.

You’re awoken by a warm, wet washcloth rubbing against your sensitive folds and you whine, sleepily wiggling your hips to get away from the discomfort. “Kid, I know it doesn’t feel good but, uh, it’s kind of a mess down there. You can go back to sleep, just let me clean you up.” Keishin’s familiar timbre comforts you so you settle back down, still half asleep.

“Mmm, Keishin?” you mumble, making grabby hands at the man.

He takes one of your hands in his. “Yeah?” he responds as he wipes the washcloth between your legs with his other hand.

You rub your face against his hand before placing a sloppy kiss on top of it. “Thank youuuu,” you slur.

Keishin just chuckles and rubs his fingers over your knuckles. “Yeah kid, you’re welcome. Just get some rest, alright?”

You’re asleep before he even finishes the sentence.

----

When you awaken it’s dark, most likely the middle of the night. There’s a blanket thrown over your unexpectedly clothed body, which is now covered in a worn, oversized shirt. It smells like fabric softener and musk, so you figure it must be Keishin’s.

Looking around, you bolt upright when you realize you’re not on the living room couch anymore, you’re now in a large, comfortable bed.

The sound of a deep, rumbling voice draws your attention to the bathroom connected to the room you’re currently in. “Oh, you’re finally awake,” Keishin says sheepishly as he emerges from the bathroom, then points to the nightstand next to you. “There’s some water and ibuprofen, you should take it. Even if you’re not sore now, you will be later.”

You chuckle tiredly as you stretch your overworked muscles. “I’m already sore, so I’ll definitely be taking these.”

He sits awkwardly on the side of the bed, unsure how to treat you after your little encounter. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on he’s seemingly deep in thought.

“Whatever you’re thinking, just spit it out.” His head immediately snaps to you, eyes guarded and unreadable.

“What we did downstairs, it’s… not right. I’m supposed to protect young, impressionable girls like you. I’m a father—I would die if Tomi was after a man more than twice her age.”

You pull the blanket off of you and climb over to where the older man is seated on the mattress. “Keishin, let me ask you something.” He lifts his head, expectant. “Did you enjoy what we did? Because I did.” He nods slowly, still unsure what you’re getting at.

Taking his face in your hands, you tell him what you’ve been thinking for weeks. “At the end of the day, we’re two consenting adults who partook in consensual activities. Even if someone wants to clutch their pearls because you’re older than me, who cares?”

“Yeah, I get that, but… It has to be some sort of ethics violation on my part. You’re younger than my daughter, Bunny.”

“Even if it is, you have to allow yourself to live a little. Life is too short to deny yourself pleasures the world has to offer, and I don’t know about you, but I was very pleased by our… tryst.”

A cute blush spreads across Keishin’s cheeks as he remembers everything he said and did to you. “Aha, I was too. So, um… Would you want to do that again, sometime?” he asks, running a hand through his hair like he always does when he’s nervous.

You giggle and tackle him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. “Of course I do. We can even do it now, if you’d like…”

A couple hours later, just before Hitomi comes back, you limp across the hallway to your room and pass out, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And that is how your little arrangement begins.

Most of your time is spent with Hitomi, mostly shopping and going out to eat when she has the day off, or just watching Netflix in her room when you’re both too tired to go anywhere.

However, in the wee hours of the morning when you’re sure that she’s asleep, you sneak up to her father’s bedroom and get fucked so hard and so good you can barely make it back to your bedroom before the sun rises.

It’s a good arrangement, you think, you both get what you want and your friend is none the wiser. You figure no harm, no foul. At the end of the winter break, Keishin will likely want to cut things off with you and you’ll go back to your college dorm as if nothing happened.

But the winter break isn’t over yet, and you plan on making the most of it.

Keishin has been fucking you into the mattress for so long, time no longer even makes sense anymore.

You’re sweaty and exhausted, muscles so sore and shaky, but the thrusting between your legs shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. The harsh grip on your hips will likely bruise, but luckily you can hide them, unlike the few close calls you’ve had with poorly-placed marks on your neck.

Despite your exhaustion, you continue to meet Keishin’s thrusts by humping your hips back at him.

He gives your ass a harsh spank and fucks into you harder, making you whine and clench around him. “You’re an insatiable little thing, aren’t you? So fucked out and dripping with my cum, yet you still want more,” he says, but all you can do is gasp in response. You’re too far gone to produce any meaningful response. “What am I going to do with you?” If you had the energy, you’d tell him whatever he wants, but you don’t and the familiar tug of an orgasm is too hard to ignore.

“Fuck Daddy, I-I’m—”

Suddenly, his phone comes to life, Hitomi’s face lighting up the screen as it vibrates. The pistoning of his hips slows, then stops completely as he reaches over and grabs it off the nightstand.

He suddenly pulls out of your sore, abused cunt and you almost whine at the loss before he buries himself back inside you. The way your face is pressed into the mattress makes it difficult, but you manage to turn your head to see what Keishin is doing behind you.

Your eyes widen and you try to wriggle out of his grip when you figure out that he’s going to answer his phone as he keeps fucking you.

A hand wraps around your neck, lifting you up from your position on the bed and you have to follow its movement to prevent your windpipe from getting crushed. You’re pressed against Keishin’s hard chest, and his cock is nestled right against your cervix. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just stay still and take it like a good little girl.”

The harsh grip on your neck releases and you’re shoved back into the bed, falling onto the comforter.

Keishin sounds completely normal when he answers his phone and it almost pisses you off—how can he be so unaffected when you’re at your wit’s end?

He chirps into the phone, “Hey sweetheart, what’s up?” The only indication that anything is amiss is the slight breathlessness in his voice and the occasional curse under his breath.

He forces himself even deeper inside you so forcefully that you’re afraid he’ll punch straight through to your womb. You know it’s not possible, but with Keishin, it just might be. He’s always full of surprises, especially when it comes to your body.

“Oh yeah, sure I can drop it off to you later. I’m just a little… preoccupied at the moment,” he says with a sharp thrust of his hips and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips. Keishin stiffens above you, waiting to see if Hitomi heard you through the phone.

“No, Hitomi, I’m not watching porn! But hold on a second, I think someone is at the door.” He sets the phone on the bed, muting the call as his cock hits your g-spot and you’re shaking, practically shivering in his arms. A couple of hard, coordinated rubs of your engorged clit and you’re cumming, gushing around him and keening as your muscles clench uncomfortably. You scream silently and fall limp onto the bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, but it’s to the point that each successive orgasm borders on the edge of pleasure and pain.

“Better keep quiet, wouldn’t want my daughter to hear you getting your pretty little cunt stuffed full of my cock,” Keishin snarls into your ear and you feel yourself clench painfully around him. Your body is just so worn out, but you know he won’t stop until he’s satisfied. “Or do you want her to know what a slut you are for her father?”

You shake your head vehemently, but the man inside you just chuckles as he keeps fucking you.

“Oh my god, oh fuck I-I…” You’re babbling nonsense to no one in particular.

“Ahh it was just-fuck, it was just some dude trying to sell me security cameras. Anyways, I’ll see you later honey, I love you.” His last few sentences sound rushed, urgent and you can tell from the twitching of his length that he’s close. The moment the phone is hung up, Keishin cages you between his body and the mattress. “Your cunt feels so fucking good, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. Would you like that?”

You try to nod and make a noise akin to ‘mhm,’ but you’re not sure what it sounds like. You’re not really sure of anything right now, but what you are sure of is you want him to cum inside you.

“I could never deny you anything, sweet girl,” he groans.

Keishin fucks into you harder, faster, and it feels as if he’s quite literally rearranging your guts, he’s so deep inside you. He reaches down between your legs and pinches your sensitive bud between his fingers. “Think you have one more in you, hm?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for your answer. Of course you do.” He rubs your sore clit the way he knows will have you shaking and coming apart around him.

“Fuck Daddy, fuck I’m cumming!” you squeal, writhing and squirming from the painful, aching tightness of your orgasm as it builds once more.

“Ergh, fuck yeah, cum on Daddy’s cock as he fills you up. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, I love this sweet pussy.”

You shriek as you cum, your climax so strong that your vision blurs at the edges and you convulse, sore muscles twitching with overuse.

“Daddy’s gonna breed his sweet little girl, fuck, feels so fucking good!” Keishin groans, burying himself as deeply as he can inside you and shooting his cum into your quivering hole. You sigh in relief at the feeling of his warm cum flooding your womb, thankful he finally came because you couldn’t have lasted much longer in your state.

He flops next to you on the bed, sweaty and exhausted from your hours-long fuck marathon. Throwing an arm over your waist, he pulls you to his chest and buries his nose in your neck.

Hitomi’s not supposed to come back for several hours, so you both deem it safe to fall asleep as you are. Just when you’re about to drift off, your phone buzzes from the bedside table.

You reach for your phone, expecting it to be some spam email.

Your heart stops, the whole world seems to freeze when you open the text message.

From: Tomie <3

So when were you going to tell me you’re fucking my dad?

#haikyuu smut #ukai x reader #ukai smut #haikyuu x reader #ukai keishin #server collab #bunny scribbles #hq smut #hq fanfic #hq reader insert #haikyuu imagines

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