#i had my fucking hands over my mouth the entirety of the last 10 minutes of that fucking episode

[princeinsomniavoid]

.....mood board...

[heeswrld]

seven minutes in heaven,

wonwoo x fem!reader

warnings | SMUT SMUT SMUT.

my first friends to lovers fic..

enjoy..

“want to have a sleepover?” your friend, aera suggest. “yes!!” the group around you collectively agreed. “who’s house?” you ask, unsure. “wonwoo’s!” aera announces, turning to wonwoo. he just nods awkwardly. wonwoo was the only one who lived alone, so his house would be the most practical.

but what no one else knew was that you had liked wonwoo. for years. how could you not fall for him? he was tall, with other-worldly features, and a kind heart. the ideal boyfriend, but not the ideal friend. you had constantly regretted even getting to know him. he was too perfect. too perfect for you. you knew he’d only ever see you as a friend. never more.

you packed your bag full of all of the necessities, a hairbrush, a toothbrush, makeup remover, etc. because embarrassingly enough, this was the first time you have ever stayed the night with a boy.

you were the last to arrive at wonwoo’s house, thank heavens. you sat down in the circle the others had already formed. “what are we playing?” you ask excitedly. “7 minutes in heaven.” seo-ja, your other friend, replied. “HUH?!?!” you exclaim, jumping out of the circle. this left the others laughing. “you don’t have to play y/n!!” aera giggled.

you let out a sign of relief, taking a seat on the couch nearby, observing the others. “wonwoo!! it’s your turn!! go with seo-ja into the closet!!” aera shoves wonwoo forward. seo-ja giggles and pulls wonwoo towards her. “i.. i don’t think i wanna-“ wonwoo mutters. “ill play.” i yell hurriedly. “we’ll then.. wonwoo go with y/n instead!” aera offers, with a smirk.

you stand quickly, trying to contain your excitement, fear, and gut-feeling that this won’t go as planned. wonwoo just looks at you, before standing up aswell. you make your way to the closet. “listen y/n, we don’t have to-“ he starts, but you wouldn’t waste this opportunity. so you pull him in. you snake your hand around his neck and pull him closer. his hand trails down your back. his tongue gliding along your lip, begging for an entrance. you happily oblige. you push his back against the side of the closet, entangling your hands in his hair. and then you pull away.

“i..” you try and speak but the look in his eyes told you he wasn’t someone who liked to be kept waiting. “how much time do we have?” you ask. “3 minutes..” he replies, just above a whisper. “then,” you reach to your wrist, grabbing a hair tie, “let’s make this quick.” wonwoo watches as you fall to your knees. “y/n.. ive never..” he tries to explain but you calmly put a finger over your mouth.

the zipper of his jeans was noisy enough for everyone out outside to hear and understand what was happening in the closet, and they all left the room.

the jeans fall to the around, leaving only his boxers. you look to him, and without saying a word you pull his boxers down. his cock was an impressive size. and seeing as this was also your first time giving a blowjob, you were intimidated.

you press your tongue to the tip of his length, releasing a moan from wonwoo. and then you took the entirety of his cock in your mouth. “f-fuck! not so fast y/n..” he says, grabbing your hair huskily. he didn’t last long, eventually he was begging to cum. “y/n i can’t m-“ he tried to warn you but it all happened to fast.

he came in your mouth, so as to not leave any evidence. you stood up, pulling your hair down, trying to fix it, and eventually the time in the closet came to an end. you stepped out, looking at eachother awkwardly after realizing everyone had left the room. you found them outside, on the balcony.

when you walked out side, it went silent. aera was the only one who spoke,

“it’s been 10 minutes.”

[hyuckshaze]

zoom shenanigans - l.dh

✩‌ haechan ‌x‌ ‌fem!reader‌ ‌|‌ boyfriend!haechan | smut | ‌1.6k+ words ✩

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ you don’t quite know how hyuck convinced you to sit on him while in a class zoom call

WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ exhibitionism, unprotected sex, dom!sub themes, asphyxiation, edging/overstimulation, spitting, slight humiliation, degradation (use of words such as whore, slut etc.), dumbification, slight dacryphylia, salirophilia, dirty talk - basically pure and absolute filth!

AUTHOR’S NOTES ⇾ i couldn’t stop thinking about this throughout the entirety of my online classes today, so i just had to write about it to get it off my chest. i am an absolute slut when it comes to dom!hyuck, so this is just self-indulgence really. enjoy! not proofread so please message if there’s any errors, or anything missing from the warning list! - lex

You don’t quite know how Hyuck convinced you to sit on him while in a class zoom call. 

He’d driven you insane. You’d been sat on his cock since the start of your lesson, for which your teacher, thank God, had decided that cameras did not need to be on. The class only lasted an hour, with you sitting on his lap in his gaming chair because ‘your desk chair just isn’t comfy enough, Y/N’, according to him anyway. You thought your desk chair was perfectly comfy, but he insisted. 60 minutes doesn’t seem all that long in the grand scheme of things, but with a boyfriend as evil as Donghyuck, of course he knew just how to make that hour feel like an eternity, teasing you relentlessly throughout. His lips brushing against your ear as you tried your hardest to complete the set work, whispering unspeakable promises into your ear and sending dark shivers down your spine. Though you couldn’t see his face, you knew the exact expression that was plastered on his face as his wandering hands roamed your body, squeezing and pinching all the spots that he knew would have you squirming in his hold. By far, the most infuriating thing he would do, though, was to snake his hand around your body whenever you had to turn your microphone on, fingers rubbing your clit in circles that had you biting back loud and sensual moans, managing to suppress the noises down to sighs which, as a University student, were not all that uncommon to hear. 

It’s when the time hits 11:50am, exactly 10 minutes before the end of the lesson (you know because you began checking it, what seemed like, every few seconds, sensing his growing impatience), that his self-control evaporates. With a raspy grunt, his hand wraps around your neck and he thrusts up into you, hard, fast and rough. You gasp, face contorting in pleasure at the sudden movements which have you crying out and grasping at the desk in front of you in order to stay upright. You whine as his grip on your neck tightens, pulling you back towards his chest in one, swift movement. A yelp escapes your lips, now blindly grabbing at the armrests on either side of the chair in order to stop your legs from giving out. Not that you’d go anywhere, Hyuck’s rigid grip on you made sure of that. His hot breath against the back of your neck caused goosebumps to form on your exposed skin, a shudder going through your body at the overwhelming amount of pleasure. His hand on your neck pushes your jaw backwards, the back of your head resting on his shoulder as he looks down at your flushed face, tears of pleasure collecting at the corners of your wide and innocent eyes, perfect pink lips parted so beautifully, not to mention the dream-worthy sounds escaping them. How could he have ended up with such a perfect little girl? His hand moves for only a split second from your neck, squeezing your cheeks together in order to open your mouth. He spits harshly into your now open mouth, pressing your cheeks shut again afterwards. You let out a sudden and uncontrollable moan at the sound of him doing such a filthy thing, feeling his spit hit your tongue forcefully. You know what he wants. You close your mouth and swallow, his hand creeping back down towards your neck as you show him your empty mouth.

“That’s my good girl.” He rasps, giving a tight squeeze to your neck once more.

With your eyes squeezed so tightly shut, you almost forget that you’re supposed to be listening to your Biomedical Sciences lecturer drone on about Haematology and Transfusion. Almost.

“Right, now that’s done, everyone turn your cameras on for this last task. We’re going to be going through the homework assignment that I set for you all last week, don’t think you can get away without speaking either! I’m gonna be asking you all questions about the task.” His words barely register in your mind, your head fuzzy and body shaking at the feeling of your boyfriend rearranging your insides so delectably. After a few moments, his words seem to sink in and your eyes shoot open, urgently whispering Hyuck’s name. There was no way you could turn on your camera, you’d have to lie. I dropped my laptop; my WiFi is lagging; my room is a mess. A thousand ways to excuse yourself ran through your mind, albeit at a much slower pace than usual. You could only focus so much through the feeling of Haechan fucking into you so hard and fast. Your desperate whines of his name are interrupted as he hums into your ear, not slowing his hips or showing any sign of stopping. If anything, it becomes even harder to think at his words.

“We both know that’s not what you call me when I’m fucking you, baby.” He growls into your ear, pounding into you with even more force, rendering you barely capable of thinking, let alone talking. Your walls clench tightly around his hard cock, a string of curses escaping your boyfriend’s pink lips as he grunts loudly at the feeling.

“M-my professor s-said-” You start, barely able to string a sentence together.

“I heard what your professor said, baby. Turn on your camera. Show your entire class how much of a filthy little slut you are for me. Show them how this perfect A* student cums all over my dick, huh? You’d like that wouldn’t you? Everyone seeing the perfect little teachers pet coming all over her boyfriends cock during her class? Everyone seeing how fucking dumb you get for my dick?” You bite your lip, holding back a scream. You can’t, however, stop a broken whimper from escaping you.

“Fuck! Yes, yes, yes, yes! Please, oh my God!” The hand that isn’t clutching your neck so tightly moves downwards, fingers brushing your clit so delicately.

“Please... Please what, slut?” He spits, tears now leaking down your face, chest shaking as you hold in overwhelmed sobs.

“Please Daddy!” You cry out, mascara beginning to smudge as you clench your eyes shut so tightly. You no longer care about your waiting professor, you no longer care about the entire class, it’s only Haechan. He is all you can feel and think.

“Y/N, we’re waiting on you to turn your camera on...” Your professor presses, but you don’t even hear him. It’s only when your boyfriend stops all of his movement, hand slipping away from your throat, reaching down and reclining his gaming chair into a laying position, that you realise what he wants.

“No, no, no. Please, Hyuckie!” You whine, head spinning at the loss of movement. He’s laying practically flat now, out of view of the camera. You try to move, rolling your hips atop his dick but his fingers dig into your hips hard, almost painfully, as he holds you in place, smirking up at your shaking figure with mirth.

“Go on, baby. Turn on your camera.” He warns, fingers digging even harder into your hips. You send him an exasperated look, to which he gives you the look. You know what that means. ‘Do as I fucking say, or you’ll regret it’. 

Your shaky hands reach over to the laptop, clicking the camera button as you let out an uneven breath. After a few seconds, your face appears on the screen. Your eyes widen. What your boyfriend had failed to inform you, was that your face was flushed and sweaty, mascara smudging your cheeks in obvious tear streaks, a drop of his spit glittering as it sat upon your chin. You wiped your face on your sleeve as soon as you catch sight of yourself, moving forward to pretend to be sorting a non-existing wire behind your screen as you try to make yourself look more presentable. As you do so, you hear his voice whisper.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what you called me just then and don’t think you’re getting away with it. ‘Hyuckie’ doesn’t fuck you the way Daddy does.” His low tone causes you to clench around him, taking a deep breath at his teasing words. He scoffs at your silence, squeezing your ass, hard, so that you let out a small whimper. He hums in satisfaction as you plaster an obviously fake smile onto your face before leaning back, clicking on the unmute button for only a moment before abruptly turning it off again, barely having finished your sentence, as Haechan’s rock hard dick twitches inside your sensitive pussy.

“Sorry, Professor. I had tech issues.” 

✩  ✩   ✩

Those last 8 minutes of class felt like an eternity, and your boyfriend made sure of that. You thought you’d done a pretty good job at hiding it, though. Not one person gave you a funny or disgusted look as you answered the Professor’s questions and kept a small, albeit forced, smile on your face. You couldn’t help but feel a twisted form of pride at your ability to pretend as though nothing was happening as you sat atop of Hyuck’s dick, enduring his endless verbal and physical teasing throughout.

It wasn’t until after the two of you were finished, long after the class had done so, that your boyfriend checked his phone

“Y/N...” You heard him call from the bathroom. You couldn’t find the energy to move, simply humming in acknowledgement at his hesitant-sounding call. He enters the bedroom in all his naked glory, carrying a small, wet cloth in order to clean you up in one hand, his phone in the other. Your eyes trace his naked body, focusing on the smooth, tanned skin. He really was a sight for sore eyes, somebody that you could never get tired of looking at. You’re disrupted from staring at his body when he holds his phone out in front of your face. You reluctantly tear your eyes from his torso, focusing in on the brightly lit screen, squinting slightly to read the text upon it.

“ 

MESSAGES

Jaemin

fucking your gf during her zoom class, nice one bro. though, you might wanna make sure that you actually hang up next time. the whole class was still there, apart from the prof. not that they’re complaining, i saw their faces. they’re gonna be getting off to that for the entirety of lockdown, i swear! 

“

Needless to say, nobody in class called you the Teacher’s Pet anymore.

✩   ✩   ✩ 

[burnedbyshoto]

initiation

— “Marriage within my family is different,” Shouto stated, trying to carefully choose his words. This put you off just the slightest bit; Shouto had never been one to be careful with what he was saying after all. “For us to marry, our future spouse must be initiated into the family.” The word initiation hung heavy in your ears.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader + todoroki family x fem!reader (endeavor x reader; touya x reader; fuyumi x reader; natsuo x reader)

warnings: 18+, smut, hardcore, gangbang, cream pie, choking, degradation, breeding, slapping, anal, anal fisting, size difference, finger gag, piss kink, older sister kink, facesitting, squirting, handcuffing, sadist!todoroki’s, masochist!reader, fuck machine, daddy kink, overstimulation, rimming, punishment, cucking, double penetration, biting and marking, mating press, orgasm control, slapping, praise, latex, healable branding, blow Job, hair pulling, mental break

word count: 28,823

a/n: i kept the beginning & rewrote the rest of this. like last time, please do not read if you’re even remotely uncomfortable with hardcore settings. this is some twisted cult mind thinking the todorokis family got in this fic. it’s not for everyone, stop reading immediately if its not for you. thank you & sorry. it took 3 hours for me to transfer this all over LOL ;-;

kinktober day 10 main kink: gang bang | kinktober masterlist

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Golden wisps of light shone through the open window; the gentle winds of spring pushed forward, filling the quiet room. Shouto lay in the warmth, blocking you from the light, casting shadows on your face. He had woken up moments before, his chest warms with content and deep admiration while he drank in your sleeping form.

Last night had been your fifth anniversary, and as a couple who was always doing something in the day, the night had been perfect for the two of you. Shouto had made the both of you dinner; he’d had Bakugou teach him how to make your favorite meal (Bakugou might have also fixed the seasoning when Shouto wasn’t looking). The two of you enjoyed a night of dinner, video games, and passionate, amazing sex. 

Shouto knew that there had been something wrong with you. There was the smallest bit of disappointment in your aura for the entirety of dinner, significantly heightening at the end of desserts. It had faded with time, talking, and interaction, but he had seen it, felt it lick against his chest in slow, chilly tendrils. 

Under the covers of the bed and the warmth of the rising sun, Shouto reached out and rubbed your cheek with his thumb.

Your skin was soft under his rough fingers, and he slowly traced the curves and lines on your face. Dipping down to where your lips were and traveling in the part between the lips he knew intimately. There was no stopping him when Shouto’s lips pressed against the tip of your chilled nose. 

But it was enough of a touch to wake you up. Shouto watched your heavy eyelids part open, tired eyes coming to meet his own in a kind gaze.

“Good morning, my love,” Shouto murmured.

Your dry lips smacked together, a grumble deep in your throat while you shifted your naked body closer to him. “Morning, you're warm…” you mumbled into the valley between his pecs. “What time is it?”

“Noon.”

“Mm, horrible,” you grunt, and Shouto chuckled. He wasn’t much of a morning person either, but you were someone who put even night owls to shame when waking up. 

“I’m going to go shower, then I’ll make us breakfast,” Shouto told you, his fingers brushing your hair from your face. “Want to join?”

“So you can try to sex me up in the shower?” you scoff, but your tone is light, joking, loving. “I’ll take five minutes of extra sleep.”

“You’re a brat,” Shouto smiles, unable to keep the joy from his voice while you chuckle throatily. He presses a kiss to your mouth, ignoring both of your gross mouths before going to do as he said. 

The shower didn’t take long, and Shouto was dressed in sweats before moving out to the kitchen. As he prepared breakfast, he heard the shower turn on, and he smiled softly that you had taken the initiative to get out of bed before breakfast was ready. By the time he was wrapping up, you had emerged from the bedroom.

You wore an oversized shirt of his, barely reaching down to the curve of your ass.

“Mm, thank you,” you chirp when Shouto places the plate of food before you; it was nothing crazy, just a bowl of white rice made via the rice cooker, your eggs just as you liked it, and a serving of mixed veggies. You grab onto his shoulders to bring him into a sweet morning kiss that definitely was minty, unlike the last time.

The both of you ate in silence, the good night's sleep still slowly letting you go from its grasp; his gaze, however, remained on you the entire time. That disappointed air came back to cling on you.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong, angel?” Shouto finally spoke up once you were done; now that you had food filling your stomach, you seemed calmer.

Your eyes focused back onto him, the slightest bit of shock highlighting on your face at his keen judgment, but you shrugged, your smile sad. “I thought you were going to propose last night, that’s all.” Those words shouldn’t have caused Shouto’s eyes to slam open, his entire body stiffening over, and even if it was slightly, he knew you could read him better than he could read himself at times. Your jaw dropped a bit, confusion evident in your face. “Why’d you react like that?”

Shouto purses his lips, composure regained. Marriage had definitely been something the two of you had talked about, and to Shouto, he saw you as a life partner. He knew that he never wanted to part with you, ever. But marriage? A proposal on his own end would mean… no, he wouldn’t do that to you or himself.

“I wasn’t planning on proposing last night,” Shouto fully admits, watching the way that your head nods in recognition. “But… I also won’t propose to you, ever.”

Now that's new information to you. 

It was now five years of being in a committed and loving relationship. The five years filled with late-night conversations of your future, yet you had never really talked about weddings and such. Granted, in your mind having a list of what to call your future children seemed like a marriage sort of ending.

“Wait, what?!” you gasp, confusion, and something deeper growing within your stomach. “Why wouldn’t you ever propose?!”

Shouto’s face is grim, his nostrils flaring while he looks to the side, his mind going a million miles a second. 

“I can’t tell you,” he hissed venomously, his shoulders taut and flexed in his anger. “I wish I could tell you, but it's not my place too,” he looked back to you, his eyes honest, sincere, and flickering with possessive jealousy. “I want to propose to you, y/n, I want to marry you, I want to be yours in more than just soul and love… but to do that… I can’t put you or myself through that.”

“What are you going to be a groomzilla? I met you when you were fifteen, trust me I can handle you—”

“No, it’s not that,” Shouto sighs, but there’s a soft smile on his face for a second, an indicator that you had amused him despite him. “It’s more complicated than that.”

“Well then, tell me,” you reach across the counter to hold his hands. His hands are warm in yours, spreading heat throughout your body. You pressed a kiss to his knuckles, continuing to do so until his ears were tinged pink. 

Shouto groans, his hands grasping yours and pulling your hand back to his mouth, and he presses a long and silent kiss to the back of your hand. His eyebrows were scrunched together, the heat in his hands fluctuating, indicating the emotional turmoil going on within him.  He places one more kiss upon your hand before pulling his lips from your hand, but he still keeps his hold on your, not willing to pull away.

“Marriage within my family is different,” Shouto stated, trying to carefully choose his words. This put you off just the slightest bit; Shouto had never been one to be careful with what he was saying after all. “The Todoroki’s that my father came from have family traditions; traditions that must be held up to no matter what. Over time and society's modernization, some have survived, and some have not, but one thing has stayed this entire time. For us to marry, our future spouse must be initiated into the family.”

The word initiation hung heavy in your ears.

Whenever the word initiation was used, it was done in the context of cults. 

Shifting in your chair, your head tilted to the side, “Initiated?”

You were a Pro Hero, though, someone who was greatly respected within the country for your strength and ability. You could handle anything they threw your way.

“I can’t tell you what it is,” Shouto snarled, his face running with a million conflicting emotions, but above all, anger and enviousness hung on. He wanted to tell you, but he couldn’t, his hand gripping yours harsher than it had been while he tried to stay calm. “But only my family can allow you to marry me. I can’t even propose until after the fact, and I don’t want to put us through that.”

“I don’t care what it is, though,” you whisper, your thumb stroking the side of his hand, trying to get him to reason with you. Your free hand reaching out to hold onto his cheek, willing Shouto to look at you. His eyes met yours again, and there was nothing in them that proved that he didn’t love you; he wanted to marry you too. You purse your lips before it melted in a warm smile, “No matter what your family has for me! Even if I have to eat Touya’s burnt to a crisp curry! I’ll do it for us, for you.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to see you doing what you’ll have to do,” Shouto grunted, his cheeks burning with his words. “I just don’t want to have you be put into this situation, I can’t have you doing this for marriage. We don’t need to be married anyway. We don’t need to be married to love each other forever.”

But just as much as you could read Shouto’s emotions and thoughts like an open book, he was the same for you. His eyes softened immediately at the sight of your reaction that lasted for what felt like a millisecond.

“What’s wrong?”

You sigh, your body stilling while you shook your head, “I can’t be with you forever without being married. I know having a band around our fingers and having the government recognize our relationship isn’t what love is about, but I just… I value marriage. I want to be a bride, I want the ceremony, the reception, the day spent in love with you. I know that in the end, marriage doesn’t mean shit, but I want it. I want to tell our kids — if we have kids — about our day, show them videos and pictures of how it went. I want to be able to talk about it. I can’t be in a relationship where we go unmarried… and I love your family! And I’d like to believe that they love me too! I’m sure we’ll be okay.”

Shouto’s face solemn, his stomach twisting. This was something he should have seen coming. It was something he knew was coming, but it still made him stoic hearing it. 

Todoroki Shouto was in love with you, all of you. You indeed were it for him, and he knew that and recognized it, but this was something you wanted. Something he now denied you for his own reasons, and while they were honest intentions, they still didn’t benefit you. But you were his everything.

“Fuyumi and Natsuo’s spouses never show up to family events anymore because of it, you know?” he stated, not to scare you, but just a sad and honest observance. He didn’t want you to stop showing up to family events either. He loved seeing you there with everyone and didn’t want that taken away. He looks at you and sees you nodding. You had been there for weddings after all, but you had no interactions with them, with the entire family being there besides that event. “You’re sure I’m the one that’s meant for you?”

Your head nods without hesitation, an ember burning brightly in your eyes. You would be an idiot if you thought he wasn’t.

“Fine, brat,” Shouto sighs, walked from the other side of the counter to stand next to you, his hands letting go of yours to rest on your hips, his forehead pressing against yours. “I’ll talk with them, I’ll see when this shit initiation will take place.”

He still hadn’t proposed, but the mere thought of everything happening soon sent bubbling joy through you. A giggle escaped your lips seconds before you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, but Shouto’s mouth bit back at yours, drawing you in with passion and fire.

“What could they possibly do?” you mumble against his lips, your lips curling into a smile when he lifts you from the chair, his fingers sneaking under his shirt on your body to rest on your soft hips. “It’s not like I’m going to die.”

.

..

..

..

.

Shouto arrived at his family's house the next day, and without even entering the house, he was already dreading this talk. Sucking in his teeth, he opened the front door, exchanging his shoes for slippers, and continued into the house.

Bright laughter and conversation greeted his ears once he made his way out of the front room, and he looked into the kitchen where his parents and siblings stood, eating and talking.

“Shouto!” Fuyumi chirped, having seen him immediately. “You showed!”

Shouto watched his entire family turn to look at him, smiling when he bent down to hug his sister and mother. Touya winked at him, stealing a bite of food from Natsuo’s unsuspecting plate. Natsuo was waving, his eyes pinched closed while he chewed, and Enji was flipping something in a pan but acknowledged Shouto with a simple nod.

“We weren’t expecting you for dinner!” Rei smiled, brushing Shouto’s hair from his face with a kind smile. “Why didn’t you bring y/n?”

Shouto inwardly winced; he was hoping to have this conversation after they had all eaten. He knew there might be a chance to have them suspend the initiation for you had it been after they’ve eaten after all. But at the mere mention of your name, the words poured from his lips, unable to stay in.

“I want to marry her,” he said simply, and at that, they all froze.

The conversation ceased, and Shouto felt the grey and blue stares of his parents looking to him while observing his siblings. The sizzling of the pan's food mockingly loud, popping and exploding at the lack of attention on it.

“I don’t agree with the initiation, the thought of sharing her… pisses me off, but she needs this,” Shouto further explained. His heart hammers in his ears, the squeeze of his stomach, making him nauseous at the knowledge of what was to come. It was inevitable, unwilling to change despite the many years and horrible results. “So, I’m here to tell you that it’s happening, and your approval of our pre-engagement.”

“Wow, Shoucchan, she must have you by the cock and balls for you to change your mind like that,” Touya was the one to break the silence, his eyes glinting with devious joy. 

“Yeah, are you sure you’re going to go through with this? I mean, you hated just participating with our spouses!” Fuyumi said, concern deep in her eyes.

“Cock and balls,” Natsuo coughed out, and Fuyumi threw a glare at their laughing brothers.

“Well, we’ve been dating for five years, and she says marriage is something she wants,” Shouto shrugged, his hands sweating from his parent's lack of response. Of course, the initiation would only take place should they allow it, and while he wanted to hear his parents admit that they loved you, he didn’t want to listen to it too. “And she’s the one for me, so here I am.”

“Cock and balls!” Touya and Natsuo cackled like a pair of hyenas, and Fuyumi turned on her heel, going over to reprimand them. 

But Shouto was now focused on his parents. Enji held onto the spatula with a steady hand, and how Rei was watching her husband cook. Shouto wasn’t registering anything his older siblings were yelling about, his attention solely on his parents, who finally looked at one another. Silent conversation through their eyes alone before finally, they looked at him.

Grey and blue met greys and blues. 

“And this is what you want, Shouto?” Rei’s voice speaks up. Her voice is soft and gentle, her eyes reaching him with motherly warmth.

“Yes,” Shouto responds in complete earnest. He wanted you above anything else.

“And y/n doesn’t know anything about what we do?” Enji asks, his stare leveled and unshakeable.

“She knows there’s an initiation,” Shouto admits, unable to lie to his parents. “I told her that was the reason why I wouldn’t propose, but she doesn’t know anything that entails.”

A soft hum sounds from Rei’s lips, her head nodding in her thought. Once more, Shouto watches his parents look at one another, silent communication between the two of them before they turn back, finalizing looks on their faces.

“Well, we absolutely adore y/n!” Rei smiles warmly, tears coming to her eyes at the thought of her baby finally getting married. “We had always hoped she was going to be the one you married!”

The strangest feeling of relief, pride, and horror sunk through Shouto while his mom enveloped him into a hug. Many more hugs were passed around, and Shouto’s smile never perked while his siblings and dad eventually embraced him in congratulations. They all wore wedding bands, the metals only shining brighter while they moved around dinner finally ready.

“A week from today, does that work?” Shouto asked, knowing full well that it would be the day you had off and the day following off. He knew that you were going to need it. 

“We’re retired, any day works,” Rei giggled, pushing Enji with her shoulder while she brought the plates of food to the table. 

“I’m free, too!” Fuyumi announced with a thumbs up.

“I can push my schedule around,” Natsuo mutters, but signals that he’s all for it.

“I guess I can, y/n is pretty enough to have me wanting to show up,” Touya sighs while slouching on the floor.

“Try and put your ugly hands on her,” Shouto snaps at his older brother, his eyes narrowing while Touya lazily smirks. 

“Oh, they’ll be in her too!”

“Well, it’s agreed upon, next week we will have our initiation,” Enji announces, his eyes narrowing at his sons, who were growing in hostility and anger. “Meet here at noon, do not tell y/n anything of what’s to happen, or else. Any objections?”

“No.” came Shouto’s response through gritted teeth.

“Good, now Shouto, are you joining us for dinner?”

“...yes,” Shouto grumbled, choosing the seat closest to Rei and sat down with a scowl that seemed more like a pout.

“Well then, here’s to the future happy couple!” Rei cheered, a glass of warm sake lifted in joy.

“Cheers!”

One week later.

You had returned home late after the day Shouto went to visit his family, exhausted and ready to collapse into Shouto’s loving and muscular arms. But when you returned to the house, you were shocked to see that he was sitting on the couch. Fingers fisted into his hair with his irritation and disbelief. 

“It’s taking place this day, next week,” Shouto groaned when you sat beside him, pressing into his side with your lips to his shoulder in silent comfort. “I’m sorry that this is the only way you have to marry me.”

“I guess you’re lucky I love you that much,” you tease, your fingers rubbing his arm. Shouto snorted, his face turning to look at you. His face was grim, obviously not at all happy with whatever the initiation was, but his eyes always warmed when he looked at you. And you were delighted to have his lips press against yours. 

So, there you sat in the car, you were dressed up in a flattering dress because the presentation was always important when meeting the Todoroki’s. You were serious about marrying Shouto, and you hoped that you would get their approval no matter what it was. 

Sighing, you looked to Shouto, who was to your right driving. His hands clenched so tight around the wheel that his knuckles illuminated with white. He was stiff, glaring out in the distance of the road while he breathed harshly. He had said that there was no official dress rule and that it would be acceptable if you showed up in anything. True to his word, Shouto was wearing a plain white t-shirt, that was partially tucked into his dark jeans. You had always enjoyed this look on him, but there was something you had to do about his smoldering aura. 

You sigh and tug his arm towards you. The way he attempts to jerk his arm away doesn’t escape you, but you still clutch his arm and lace your fingers with his. You place a soft kiss to his fingertips and smile when you see him shudder slightly and then relax. It’s a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

“You look ready to crash the car, are you okay?” you ask, stroking soft lines to the back of his hand with your thumb.

Shouto sighs and looks over at you. His face is still set with annoyance, but his eyes brighten, and his lips quirk into the smallest of smiles.

“Like I’d crash the car with you in it. If I wanted us to die, I’d be much more dramatic than that,” he says, and you laugh in protest. His smile brightens, and he brings your hand to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss to it.

Shifting in the leather seat to face him a bit better, you stretch towards him, your eyes narrow with curiosity, your fingers pinching his cheek. “Answer my question, brat!”

Shouto sits there for a bit, gathering his emotions before he sighs, irritated once again.

“It’s going to be a lot today, I know you said you could handle it and whatnot, but I’m still worried,” Shouto expressed, the slant of his eyebrows coming together, his eyes flashing as he looks at you for just a moment. “I don’t want you to hate me for this, and say you don’t want to marry me after it’s over.”

Your eyebrows scrunch. 

You knew that this had been bothering Shouto all week, and he had been rougher in every aspect. Even in bed, he had been rough and hard, leaving you breathless, bruised, and impossibly sore afterward. “You know it’s going to take more than your family initiating me for them to scare me off.”

“Yeah, I know that. I hope you keep to that opinion too,” Shouto sighs, your hand that held his tightening. “I just don’t want the worst to happen. And the worst thing that could happen is that you don’t understand why we do what we do and that you’ll leave me. Or maybe even tap out, which would mean you didn’t pass the initiation.”

“Well, I think I’m a lot stronger than you’re giving me credit!” you exclaim, pushing his arm once more so that he could glance your way once again and see how serious you were about this all. “I’m going to pass with flying colors and hear Endeavor, and Rei say I’m the best daughter-in-law!”

“I’m sure you are already the favorite, but I’m not trying to underestimate you, love. It’s not going to be easy,” Shouto sighs, his eyes glancing over to you as the two of you pull into the driveway of the Todoroki’s main estate. “This can take a turn to the worst really quickly.”

“I’ll be fine. I survived three years as a target to the League of Villains and survived. This’ll be easy as pie,” you reassure him. 

You didn’t know how to take his uneasiness. Was it a hoax? Some initiations were simple things that were way overhyped, and you weren’t sure where Shouto stood on this exactly. Shouto nods his head as he unbuckles his seatbelt, and he’s out of the door before you could question him about his insecurities. You sigh and unbuckle your belt, knowing how anxious Shouto is.

You brush your hair out of your face, and the car door opens. You looked up with a small grin as Shouto offered you a hand.

“I can’t tell you how long this’ll take, but I hope that at the end of this, you’ll love me as much as you did last week,” Shouto says. The words stir butterflies in your stomach while you roll your eyes playfully. 

As if you could ever stop loving him.

Humming, you let Shouto help you out of the car, and you couldn’t help but bring your serious boyfriend in for a gentle kiss. The kiss lasts more than a few seconds, his lips trying to get everything out of you, but you pull away, not wanting his family to be looking at the two of you somehow. The irritability on Shouto’s face is gone when you pull away, but he isn’t hiding the fact that he wanted the kiss to be longer.

“I love you,” he whispers like some prayer, a hope that you won’t hate him for this, and he closes the car door behind you.

“I love you, too,” you smile like a lovestruck idiot while he begins to lead you to the front door. “This’ll be fine! I’m sure your family will be happy with me.”

Shouto doesn’t respond, his attention focused on unlocking the front door. He slides it open and puts out a hand, holding you with a firm hand to your waist. “Let’s go.”

You smile in grace, thanking him while you stride in. You took off your heels, replacing them with their guest slippers while Shouto slides his feet into his own. The two of you walk with entwined hands, instinctively you moved towards the living room area, but was surprised when Shouto veered towards the opposite side of the hallway. Still, you said nothing, figuring that maybe it was a part of the initiation. 

With no idea of where he was taking you, you followed after Shouto, your anxiety building when you stopped outside of the house's training room. You had been in here a few times, Endeavor had invited you over for some rounds of sparring.

You remember it was the first time meeting the then number one hero as Shouto’s girlfriend, and to say the least, you had left a great impression. But still, you were in a dress, there was no way you’d be able to fight his family dressed like this.

“I love you,” Shouto whispers, his hands grabbing you by the shoulder, his stare intense. “I need you to know that.”

You chuckled, your own growing anxiety starting to taste bitter on your tongue, “I know, baby, I love you too.”

Shouto nods, his lips pressing a rigid and unmoving kiss to your lips before he sighs. He pulls away, nodding once more before turning to the doors. He opens it and ushers you in.

Much similar to when you had first come into this training room, it was void of any work out equipment, the floors lay barren except… was that a bed?

“Welcome, dear,” Rei’s voice speaks, and you turn your head to see that the matriarch of the Todoroki family is sitting in an elegant chair. Deep ruby red fabric that made the white-haired woman pop even more as she sat on it. In her hands sat a wine glass, the silvery-white dress on her setting an ethereal scene before you.

“Hello,” you respond back, your smile warm and sincere despite the way your stomach rolls in anticipation. 

What was going on?

“Shouto,” she called out, her hand gesturing towards the chair that was beside her. 

You blinked multiple times.

The chair was daunting. Made of steel, completely bolted to the floor with an excessive number of holsters attached to it. 

What on earth was going on?

There isn’t enough time to react, your face being held firmly within Shouto’s hands, and an angry, bitter kiss is scorched against your lips until he is forced away. You stay put where you were, confusion limiting your actions, but you could tell just by staring at his back that Shouto did not want to do this.

Shouto took a seat on the chair, his nostrils flaring, and his eyes an inferno.

“Y/l/n y/n,” Rei spoke with what you could only describe as glitter to her tone. The wine glass was pressed against her knee, her grey eyes observing your every move. “Do you want to marry my son, Todoroki Shouto?”

“Yes,” you speak with no hesitation, despite the anxiety bleeding into your tone. 

Her lips spread into a kind smile, her head partially nodding, and with a lift of her wine glass, the final words you would later find out to be incriminating spilled from her tainted bitter lips.

“Will you do anything we demand of you to marry him?”

A beat.

“Anything.”

A dark glint fell against her typically bright eyes, and as if from thin air, Touya and Natsuo appeared at Shouto’s side, the restraints being done immediately. His ankles, calves, and thighs were strapped to the chair, his arms shoved into a device you knew well to be a quirk nullifier, and a muzzle on his face, his head strapped to keep his gaze on the bed in the room.

You moved towards Shouto, a dread filling you because were you supposed to fight off his family while wearing this dress?! 

But before you could even begin to question what was going on, a large and hot hand envelopes your wrist, and you’re pulled backward against a taut chest.

“Welcome to our initiation!” Rei informed you sweetly, the red liquid finally spilling past her lips and into her waiting mouth.

You looked up the second you collided with a firm chest, but you can’t say you were expecting Endeavor to be behind you, one hand encasing your wrist and the other pressing your hips to his thigh. The patriarch of the Todoroki family towered over you in his height and massive build, but he wasn’t staring at you, his eyes not at all concerned by your horrified expression. Instead, he was staring at Shouto, a cold smirk on his face.

“She’s quite dolled up,” he spoke, the tone of his voice sending a shiver of fear down your spine.

Enji looked down at you, almost thrilled that you hadn’t already passed out like some other people who have tried the trails of this initiation. “He didn’t tell you what was going on today, correct?”

“N-No,” you flinch, feeling the way that his heavy hands touch the insides of your thigh lustfully. Did you imagine the way that his fingers seemed to feather over your skin?

“Each blood member of the Todoroki family gets an opportunity to breed you,” Rei piped up, and with your heart pounding in your ears, you looked over at the white-haired mother who was surrounded by all her children. Touya smirking, Fuyumi smiling, Natsuo winking, and Shouto glaring holes into his father's head. “They get to fuck you in however way they see fit to make sure you’re cut out for my baby boy. Don’t tap out for the next six rounds, and the Todoroki last name is all yours.”

There’s no denying that you finally understood why Shouto didn’t want to propose, but with your fears still forming cohesive sentences on your lips, a loud sound of tearing fabric beats the words from your mind.

“Wow, that’s some lingerie she’s wearing, Shouto, are you sure you didn’t tell her?” Touya asks, his lips pulling into a snide smirk while your arms instinctively went to cover the indecent state you were in. It wasn’t as if you had worn lingerie. As a matter of fact, you were only clad in a simple black cotton pantie and bra, but that didn’t keep you from blushing like a prude. A loud rattling of chains is the only noise from Shouto, but you were too busy trying to fight the tears forming in your eyes when Enji’s hands met your breasts.

Twisted feelings squirmed under your skin while Enji manipulated your breasts, tugging at the warm flesh. You felt frozen to the core. What was going on?!

“What are you doing?!” you splutter the moment Enji raises you from the floor, his hands twisting you so that you are now facing him, and adjusting you roughly so that you were only aware of him. 

You and Enji had a good relationship, but there was no denying that the look on his face right now was one you should never give to your son's significant other. His face was dark, the scar on his face looking more ragged, impossibly wild. 

“You seem like a nice girl,” he states, his hands pressing your hips firmly against his crotch, and you could feel the growing length that he had in his pants. “Nice hips, firm legs, you’d look so pretty full of cum, so pretty pregnant with our blood.”

Something curls deep within your skin, sitting restlessly onto your nerves only to be interrupted by Enji’s teeth burying into your neck. You flinch away, your body trembling under the undeniable embers that sprout as he inflicts a bite on you. Enji sits on the edge of the bed, his hands gripping your waist so that you were straddling his thigh. The muscles' indentations and curves on his legs added an unholy feeling to the slick that soaked your panties.

His eyes train on the way you sit on his thigh, your cunt growing wet and wetter when he shifts you back, then forward. Your puffy and sensitive clit continued to rub up against the rivets of his muscle. You whined loudly at the teasing friction, the stupidly soft friction, and if he was anything like Shouto, there would be much, much more. 

“You’re so tiny compared to me,” Enji growls, continuing to grind you against his thick thigh. It was almost a ridiculous sight, you on his massive thigh. His distinctive muscles ridged against your sensitive clit, stimulating you to no end while you cried mercy, and his hand smacked your pert ass.

“What— What are you doing?!” you squeak and flinch when you're slammed against the mattress. The oxygen in your lungs shortens immediately; the burning of your skin explodes when the panties are burnt from your body. 

“Do you not understand what Rei meant when she said we get to breed you?” He asks, his eyes taking in the way that your legs are hopeless in shutting him off. The thickness of his hips and thighs overwhelmed any strength you could ever have. The sounds of a zipper echo in your ears, and you barely have time to peer down when his cock comes out.

Hard as a rock, thicker than your forearm, and already leaking.

“I must admit, the day Shouto brought you home, I was hoping this day would come,” Enji chuckled humorlessly, his left hand fisting his already erect cock, and his right hand slamming your struggling hips down. “Now, let’s see what exactly about your cunt drives Shouto wild.”

If you thought you knew what pain was before right now, you had to be wrong. 

Enji’s girth was overwhelming, nearly splitting your shuddering tight walls while he buried his cock entirely within you. Nausea builds in the back of your throat, your hips bucking in their relentless attempt to adjust to the way that he was splitting your walls in two, and the choke that gargles from your mouth only seemed to be a sweet symphony to the other members of the family. 

“SHIT!” you cried, painful tears pushing past your eyes, dripping down your cheeks while Enji shuddered.

“You’ve got a really tight cunt,” he growls, his hips shifting against you, setting off another round of painful screams while he situates within you. “No wonder why Shouto wanted you for himself… mhm, this is nice. A tight young pussy always means a fertile womb.”

His hips then begin to thrust upward into you, the tip of his cock unable to reach the beginnings of your walls that he seemed to attempt to get to with each powerful blow. But it was his girth that had your body tensed, back arched in pain, eyes clenched in nothing but pain.

Pain. Pain. Pain.

“Hey!” SLAP. 

Your head snapped to the side, a burning, stinging pain on your cheek, alerting you that your eyes were closed. Your piqued breathing spluttered as if you were having some sort of asthma attack. Enji looked down at you, turquoise eyes burning devilishly down at you, his lips curled into an unapproving snarl while his hands pushed at the bottom of your knees. “Don’t you dare take your eyes off me this entire time. Don’t waste my time.”

You whimper loudly, the feeling of his forcibly moving hips getting to be much easier on you, no longer a wave of intensive horrifying pain, but mild throbbing pain. “You have to be gentler, you’re so much bigger than mE!!!”

The sheets' fabric under your body seared with heat when Enji shoved you further onto the bed. The bed dipped under his weight, your legs twitching almost pathetically around his waist while your sight nearly blackened with his next action. With his drilling hips and snarling speed, your screams and shouts of pain, pleasure, and fear were interrupted by an enormous fist around your neck. And his mouth pressed into your cheek.

“Don’t you know how to teach your whore to be quiet, Shouto?” Enji hisses, his thick hand clenching around your neck. Oxygen refused to flow to your lung, and you went light-headed, choking noises emitting from you while he continued to slam his cock in you, your clenching and almost splitting walls unable to keep up with the speed of the retired number one hero. “I don’t want to hear you drown out my lovely wife at all, do you understand?”

Your head throbbed, the blood forcibly kept in your head, and the lack of oxygen made your world spin. 

Rei?

Soft whispers hit your ears, and in a panic, you realized that Rei was, in fact, speaking. Her attention is on you, eyes bright with lust watching her husband's cock ramming into you with the speed and strength of only accomplished pro heroes. But she was whispering to Shouto, who seemed to be doing everything in his power to escape. 

But as if you could read Shouto’s mind, his eyes reached yours, and you didn’t see regret at all in his eyes. No, nothing in him stated that he didn’t regret putting you here, because there was a simmer in his eyes. Something that told you that he shouldn’t be enjoying this… but he was. 

That sent endless shivers down your spine, emitting choking coughs from your mouth.

“There we go,” Enji sighs, his broad chest pressing your thighs into the bed, cutting off what limited oxygen you had left, and increasing pleasure within you by a tenfold.

“Shit, such a filthy fucking cunt you have,” he savages, your walls spasming against him with his wild, obscene thrusts. He moves his hands so that they press against your knees, pushing them into the mattress, increasing the ability of which he drills down into you. Your strangled scream goes unnoticed by Enji, your fingers scraping against his scarred back, a desperate plea for him to be softer.

But he wasn’t someone who cared.

The sounds of his cock slamming into your sopping pussy created loud wet noises that made you cry in embarrassment. Your face felt like it was seconds from popping out, Enji’s weight crushing you on top of the abhorrent position he was fucking you in, but he found it as an excuse to speed up. His rugged grunts are warnings in your ears as his cock finally hits your cervix with consistency that makes you wail. The stretch he gave you was boggling, and you were progressively less aware as he drilled in harder. His slams were so hard the sound of his thighs hitting your ass let out a continuous and loud slap.

There was no denying that you and Shouto had been rough in bed. Hell, at least thrice a week, he had your skin bruised and bleeding, his back forever scarred with your fingernails, but this was on a whole new level. 

The force in which Endeavor slammed his hips to meet yours, the growling pants in your ear that sent a liquid fire that could never match the heat of his quirk to your core when your head smashed against the bed frame. “That’s fucking right,” he laughs, drool pouring past your lips, your eyes crossing. Pleasured sobs expelled from your lips, invigorating something powerful within the entire family who watches on with impatient stares at the sight of your squeezing cunt around Eniji’s cock. “Take my fucking cock, bitch, don’t fucking pass out yet, we’re not done.”

He pistoled into your gripping core with the intent of getting himself off, uncaring, unmotivated by your pathetic whining, and crying. But your thrashing and wailing do not stop Enji, nor do they lessen the pace and the force he’s settled in as the bed begins to creak with every powerful thrust.

“I needa— holy shit, r-right there!”

“What? Do you need to come already?” Enji mocks you pushing up off you so his back is curved, and your body so small underneath him.

Your eyes can no longer stay open as the only noises leaving your mouth are whines and begs for more. You forcibly clench around him in an attempt to stir a reaction from him, but all he does is snarl quietly as he continues his rutting force. The pounding is rhythmic. His balls bruising your ass where he hits you. The feeling of Enji’s cock entering and leaving you draws your eyes to the back of your head as you pathetically whimper his name, his thighs hitting your ass at bruising force, only adding to your pleasure. Your heart hammering in your ears as you heard Enji snap at you.

“I thought I told you to keep your eyes on me at all times.”

Before you could even pathetically open your eyes, his cock has removed from your cunt, your body spasming from his lack of fill. Your mouth sobbing at his absence, a need for him to return despite the undeniable tremor and ache of your core. He’s off your body as well, and oxygen floods your lungs in dizzying and shallow pants. Your vision fuzzies out, and you stare almost brokenly at Shouto, who meets your gaze with a burning fire.

“Watch and learn, Shouto, this is how you handle someone who doesn’t know how to listen.”

You don’t have time to digest his words, Enji grabbing you by the roots of your hair and pulling you to your knees. You only manage to get a sharp cry out, pain flaring in your scalp when you're thrown onto your knees before Enji. 

Your body feels tired already, sore, and beaten, but Enji looks down at you with blazing turquoise eyes, and his calloused fingers rub at his length. You blink once, thrice, and his hot and wet with your slick cock slaps your face. “Open up, whore.”

There isn’t any time to question because the crown of his cock pushed past your lips and the taste of Enji and your essence filled you. 

But ever so demanding, Enji wastes no time starting his punishment.

You try to keep up with the momentum of his viciously thrusting hips, your jaw already aching with the vast space you need to keep his cock in your mouth, and you choke against him the moment his swollen head hits the back of your throat. Enji groans, his hands cemented onto the back of your neck, his moans tight and low, and his cock twitching in your mouth.

“Look at you, you’re good at this,” Enji observes, his fingers moving to slap your sensitive nipple, making you cry around his cock. “Too fucking good.”

The words ignite a fire within you, and your legs tremble in unneeded glee, but there’s something about the way that having all their eyes piercing your every move, studying the way your cheeks subconsciously hollow around his cock that thrills you. You wanted them all to fuck you until you were nothing less than a mess. You needed him to give you his cock back instead of sucking him off, your cunt crying in need of being filled — needing more than the undesirable rubbing of your thighs together.

 Your arms shot out, gripping the back of Enji’s thighs as you willed him closer. Your jaw widening, hot breaths of air expelling from your mouth. You could feel Shouto’s angry eyes burning you. So you moaned louder, your tongue lashed against his swollen head. Enji’s thighs clench when your mouth sucks against the head of his cock, your tongue pressing flat against the tip.

 “Did someone finally fucking wake up?” Enji grunts, his hips moving with more unrestrained power into your mouth.

Making a pleasant sound, you hollow your cheeks out and taste the saltiness of his pre-cum. Delighting at the harsh curse, you guided him further in. One of his hands is soon braced on the fuck machine between your legs, but the other is tangled in your hair, pulling it and twisting it as he wishes. He’s pulling hard enough to hurt, tears springing uncontrollably into your stinging eyes, enough so that you can choke against him, the angle and the position on your back already increasing the likelihood of that happening.

Enji’s grip on your hair tightens, and he realizes that you’re keeping up, his once sneer evolving to one of sinister appreciation and glee. His dance between aggression and savagery is an art. You don’t have time to trail his bulging veins with your tongue; he steers his cock further down your throat. You don’t bother to hide how satisfied you are by his action as you relax your throat, letting him all in.

 “Fuck,” he hisses, his hips bucking forward, he can’t stop himself from demanding more. You don’t mind; you open wider to take more of him in, and his cock thrusts further down your throat. He’s now panting, in his desperation, judging from the strangled sound he makes as you take him even deeper. “I didn’t think you’d be able to do this. I guess we’re — shit — full of surprises.”

The thought of being good enough makes you moan, and you gag softly, trying to take him deep enough now that he must be able to feel the vibrations from your throat because that makes him hiss out another curse. He’s shaking with the effort of slamming his cock down your throat. Your fingers holding onto his clenched muscles to the best of your ability.

The raw, primal, and wet noises of his cock entering and leaving your throat are maniacal, your hands leaving his thighs to press onto your needing cunt. 

He’s underestimating you, however; you could take him in all power and length he could muster. You know that as you begin bobbing your head, and the hiss that breathes past his lips. Digging your fingers into your clit, you cry around him, and finally, he notices what you’re doing.

Enji grunts, his hands slapping your hands away from your weeping walls. You choke against his cock, the building pleasure in your core gone, leaving you behind sputtering and gagging against his slamming cock, “Did you think I stopped fucking your cunt so you could do it in my stead, whore? That’s my cunt to fuck right now, don’t you dare. Fucking. Touch. It.” Every enunciation has your nose burying into his skin, the tears flowing from your eyes intermixing with the drool that is pouring from your mouth as he shoves you back down onto the bed. 

You gasp loudly, your chest heaving with the burning pain as you stare at his purpling, thick cock that looks seconds from exploding. You shiver in delight.

Shouto stares at you, his once fiery eyes silent ice. Cold, dangerous, deadly.

“Such a disobedient daughter-in-law. First, you don’t look at me. Next, you deliberately touch yourself when you’re supposed to be pleasing me?! How am I supposed to believe that you’ll be suitable for my precious Shouto when you clearly can’t follow instructions,” Endeavor chides, his hand twisting something you can’t make out. Your eyes were heavy, pain, and pleasure swelling through every active cell in your body. “Let’s hope you don’t choke on your saliva, now do we?” There was nothing you could say in response as his fingers buried in your mouth, and you gag at the pressure on your tongue.

And just like before, pain exploded in your body. The fingers in your mouth pressing unfairly into your mouth further inducing the choking madness that threatened to have you puking against the sheets as he shoved inch by inch of his completely swollen cock into your tight cunt. You fail to keep up, broken, horrible sobs muffled from your mouth while he finally bottomed out in you.

You twisted in pain, trying to move away from him, but were held in place. 

“Stay still, and take it,” Enji growls, not at all amused with the panic fluttering through you. The way that Shouto held your tearful gaze made your spinning head nearly fall off your shoulders. So cold, so unattached to what was happening. Your sobs soon fade to gargled chokes, your ass clenching against his deliberately moving cock, but Enji seems to enjoy that you were adjusting so fast to what was going on. Slowly, your sobs become whimpers, whimpers becoming heaving breathing until you adapt to the jarring pain that was Enji’s fat cock in your pussy again.

“Make sure you suck my fingers, whore,” he whispers, and with that, he seems to unleash everything he had, no longer caring about how you were feeling.

In and out, he moves, his hips moving faster than a manageable speed, only slightly hindered by your clenching velvet slicked walls, and your eyes welled with tears at the constipated feeling in your stomach. His fingers tweak and pull at your clit, then nipples, savagely teasing them, uncaring that your lips left drooling puddles on the bed, you could barely suction around his thick fingers. 

Your gaze was still locked on Shouto, his gaze delighting you. But as if Enji could read your thoughts, his thrusting movements became quicker, harder, and more solid until a familiar sensation of his balls slapping your skin burns into your mind and your body.

You whimper against the bed, your teeth sinking into his fingers, your back arched to sinfully, your eyes crossing in your delirium. Drool coats your chin, your body nothing more than his fuck toy. Enji’s sweating, unshaven chin scrapes against your shoulder, his voice diminishing into growls and snarls, the pinch on your clit, making your hips buck against his cock, and he began to barbarically slam into you.

 Your body moves with his every movement, your slick dripping from your cunt, and he lets go of your nipple. In your crazed state, you sob at the loss of contact, but his hand strikes against your soaked clit with a loud sound. The force alone nearly sends your eyes focused, your vision blurring when his finger dives into your lonesome asshole.

 More and more fingers join his initial one working double the speed of which his hips slam into you. His fingers pushing the limits of your ribbed walls; he curls his fingers against your walls, dragging and coaxing them deliciously against your clenching heat. Moving his fingers against his cock; the thin walls that separated his fingers and his cock brushed together, sending you into a new frenzy while you sobbed his name against the gag.

Begging for more, begging to come.

“I want you to come now,” he snaps, you moaned loudly, knowing that he was nowhere close. “Come, you filthy bitch, cum against your father-in-laws cock.”

You garble against the gag, your jaw unable to move for its slack against the mattress, electrifying pleasure singing your nerves, and with a loud smack to your pussy, you come hard against his cock, clenching him in a vice grip.

Each powerful snap of his hips sending your back arching to the heavens, the balls of your feet digging bruisingly into his back. In and out he goes, your cunt nothing more than a cocksleeve for him, and your wanton screams and mewls taking him further and further.

Enji all but laughs into your ear, his hand pressing your head so that you could stare at Shouto while he fucked your pussy, his breath hot and heavy in your ear while he taunts you. “Wouldn’t that be embarrassing? Nine months from now and not being able to tell if the bitch in your womb will be from the rest of my sons or me. You, my son’s future wife, giving birth to his half brother half son, that would be something, huh?” you sob in the thought, not because it’s horrible, but because it makes your cunt throb ludicrously in thought. “I’m going to fill you up so good, whore. You’ll be leaking my cum for days. I’m going to make sure you carry the Todoroki gene, and I hope that it’s my son you carry.”

The words incite clenching heat in your core, your lips unable to form anything but a weak, pitiful moan because the thought of being filled to the max with Todoroki cum makes your mind spin. More, you want to milk them all dry. You want nothing more than that.

With a ragged breath, a consecutive full thrusts that send his cock slamming against your cervix, Enji cums fully within you. His load is long and heavy, your belly feeling like it's bulging when he finally emerges from your cunt. His once hard cock limping in his hands while you lay there defeated, your intermixed cum spilling from your pulsing cunt. 

“Look at that,” he muses, and you can feel warm, thick liquid dripping from your cunt and down onto your ass. “A pretty dessert.”

You lay on the mattress, breathing ragged, uncomposed, desperate. “Come on, you’re going to have to do better to last another five rounds,” Enji growls, his hand guiding his cock down to you, but he was on his feet. Towering over you, you turned to look at him, eyes heavy with everything you’ve been through already, and then something warm hit you. Warm, wet, retched smelling. Urine fell over your legs, splashing among your stomach and ankles, soaking you with secretion you never thought would touch you in such a way. 

“Isn’t this what they do to mark a bitch?” he asks, his voice filled with humor as if he had told the world’s funniest joke. But the spirit dies quickly, replaced with a sinister seriousness that has you gasping in both horrors and need. “Don’t forget who you belong to now, y/n, you’re the Todorokis’.”

 “Leave it to this fucking idiot to piss all over you when no one else has had their fun,”  a grumbled response comes to your left the moment Enji leaves your side. 

Your neck aches, your throat raw when your eyes locked gazes on Touya, who looked at your naked, piss-drenched body with a look of disdain. “I can’t fuck her like this, how fucking gross are you, Endeavor? Just because you go first, so you don’t have limp dick during the best part doesn’t mean you get to fucking do this.”

Touya’s hands grabbed you by your wrists, yanking you up onto your feet so that you stood off the bed. His hand gripped the ruined sheets, burning them instantly. There was nothing left behind on the bed, not even billowing ashes as you stared with your jaw-dropping in thought. Then something cold, wet, and smelling heavily of chemicals pressed against your skin. Touya rubbed cleaning towels against your body, rubbing you dry with a look of disgust on his face.

“I’m not against pissing on whores, trust me, but like hell I’m fucking someone covered in Endeavor’s piss,” Touya growled, shoving you onto the bare mattress to clean off your legs. Your skin felt rubbed raw by the time he was done with you, but you lay there, staring up into his turquoise eyes while his head tilted in thoughts. He took in your body with cold, calculating eyes, an aura of mystery falling on him. “You really are hot. I almost can’t blame Shouto for not wanting to give you to us in this way. I would never share a slut like you, that’s for sure.”

Your chest hitched. The way that he stalked you up onto the bed, crawling after you with an almost crazed, almost insane glint in his eyes that screamed at you, was dangerous. Every cell in your body telling you that this wasn’t safe, that you needed to get away, but you wanted that ring on your finger. You wanted Shouto.

“Where do we begin?” Touya asked, his voice void of the craze you saw in his eyes, sinisterly sweet, utterly dangerous.

There was no helping the way your instincts told you to run, nor that you listened to your instincts without even noticing most of the time. With every move he made towards you, there was an equal retreat from you. But with as little as three moves away from him, Touya grew tired of your game of cat and mouse. And his lips curled into a snarl. 

“I guess the old man didn’t do shit about your independent flare, did he?” Touya spat, his eyes narrowing, his hand grasping your ankle before you could even think of escaping further. “Let me tell you something slut. I don’t like playing around. You give me what I want, when I want, when I say so, or else you’ll get fucked over. Do you understand?”

You couldn’t say yes or no; you only kicked the air when he dragged you towards him suddenly, your knees burning into the bare mattress, your lips gasping loudly. You were dropped onto his lap; Touya was now sitting at the edge of the bed, his knees burying into your stomach, and you wheezed with the pressure. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, your head trying to look at the eldest Todoroki son, your body shifting in your raising fear. You knew what was going on, you weren’t that much of an idiot, but the panicked words still poured past your lips before you could try to stop them. His hand pressed against your bare, sore ass. His hand moving up and down your cheeks, circling and kneading the soft flesh as if in contemplation. But for you, it was nothing short of anxiety-ridden torture.

There was a moment of silence while his hands disappeared from your skin, and you thought maybe he wasn’t going to spank you after all. Licking your lips, you turned your head to see what exactly his expression was. But you were too late.

His hand rose and fell with extreme force. His right hand slamming down against your ass cheek, the sharp slap noise made your body clench in his wake, you shriek while your skin throbbed in his path. The pain made your legs buckle, a hot pressure reigniting in your core, and another loud slap repeated on your other ass cheek.

You yelped loudly when Touya yanked your head back. The arch in your back was dramatized by this action; your back ached as another heavy slap echoed against your throbbing, sensitive skin. His light, almost wild breathing hits the shell of your ear, and chills shoot down your spine when he snarls.

“If I want to be cruel, you better understand that you have no say if I am or not!” he laughs in your ear, his hand landing harshly against your throbbing, pinching skin. “Was the rules of the initiation to make sweet love to Shouto’s wannabe wife? No—” his hand comes down against your ass with great powerful slaps, ignoring your growing shriek and screams— “it was fuck you however we wished. I don’t give a fuck about what you want, about the way Shouto is seconds from ripping from his chains. I will fuck you until you’re blistered and bruised. Do. You. Understand?”

You can’t find the will to answer, your body convulsing and shaking with pained pleasure, your tongue unable to form any sort of words from the stinging, burning pain, the only noise you can emit are screams. The next spank that comes across your ass nearly sends you tumbling off his lap. Your arms pressing desperately onto the edge of the mattress and onto the floor, the weight and struggle to keep yourself upright was a challenge as Touya abused your ass until you could feel the outline of his hand rising from your skin.

“Answer me, slut.”

There was no stopping Touya’s heavy hand against your pert ass, his nails digging into your stinging flesh, and you could not think of anything but how your cunt throbbed for the man beneath you. Your sobs of pain had slowly turned into those of pleasure, and you could feel Touya’s fingernails most definitely cut into your sore cheeks, the cut flesh stinging even more than the others. It delighted you.

“Y-Yes, Touya!” you pant, your body trembling in your blossoming excitement and need for more.

“You like this, don’t you,” he barks with nearly crazed laughter while he rubs circles against your heated skin. His eyes are locked with his youngest brother, uncaring about your reactions, but gleefully seeking the way that it was on Shouto who could match the raging glare Touya had perfected. “Look at her, Shouto! She’s a desperate fucking slut! Do you fuck her like this at home?! She’s trembling with excitement, and she was trying to get away from me this entire time. Should I fuck her until she no longer wishes for your cock? Maybe she’ll leave you for me! Ha! The thought of that! I wouldn’t mind a slut looking like this! With no clothes, no way back from this? Oh, she’s perfect!” His laughter is cut off at the way the chains and the metal around Shouto’s wrist for a moment are unable to contain his quirk, the metal building with frost and ice, coloring red on the other end. Touya grins, his eyes dropping from his raging baby brother to return his attention to you. “Count the number of times I spank you, I want to hear you counting and thanking me every time.”

Slap.

“One.”

Your words were barely above a hoarse whisper, just enough for the entire family to hear you count as you trembled like a leaf on his lap. His taunting words to Shouto had a significant effect on you, on top of Shouto managing to for a brief second overpower the quirk canceling restraints had you seeing the heavens and the hells while you sighed contently. His upper lip pulled back into a sneer as he let go of your hair, throwing your head down. You yelped in pain when your head smashed into his thigh and once again when his fingers went and pinched your swollen pussy lips.

“I know you can fucking scream louder than that, don’t make me ask again for the thank you too. I’m not doing charity work. Try again.”

Slap.

“One! Thank you!”

Your mind reeled as Touya continued his conquest against your ass. 

“Two, tHANK YOU!” you screamed, feeling his burning hand landing against your ass.

Touya’s laughter rang merrily in your ears as he continued to abuse, to slam his palms against your ass. You could barely remember the number you were on the numbers pouring past your lips. Nothing more than some thickly coated babble that he took in acceptance anyways. The added sensation of his alternating heated and standard hand that almost felt like ice against your burning, blistering ass increased the desire in you to find you as you were now. 

Ass bright red and in the air, your blood long dried against your throbbing skin, thighs trembling where they were pressed onto Touya’s lap, and saliva and tears seeping onto your weak, shaking arms.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he cooes as two of his fingers slide against your wet slit, and your ragged moans fill the room with the need of more. He continues petting your folds, and while his other hands move to gently stroke your abused ass, your hips begin to buck against his wandering hands, trying to get them to slip between the folds. “Such a greedy little slut. Do you want me to fuck you with just my fingers? That would be a little boorish.”

His chuckle is barely heard by you, for as he said that, he pressed the head of three of his scarred fingers into your cunt. A sharp whine slams from your throat as he pulls away just as quickly. The empty teasing of his action makes you crave more. You shift your ass back, the action full of temporary regret as soring pain flashes through your lower body. He did not hold back.

Gritting your teeth, you continued pushing against him, craving more.

“Is this not good enough for you?” Touya chuckles, but there’s that twisted humor to his laughter that sinks like a stone in your stomach. “Wonderful, truly perfect.”

His weight shifts, and the next thing you know, your back on the mattress. Your ass presses against the rough material, and you sob in pain at the feeling of the blisters and burning, bruised flesh of your ass pressing into the mattress. You fall onto your knees, trying to alleviate the coursing pain that throbs through your body from his past ministrations. But Touya is busy doing something else, his hands handling something black, shiny, and tight.

“W-What is that?” you grimace through your pain, your eyes watering slightly while you stare up at Touya, who stretches the black material in his hands. The material is foreign to you; you’re unsure of what it is, only that you’re increasingly positive that it’s latex and that there are two small holes in the center of them.

“I’m an ass guy,” Touya states simply, his eyes concentrated on the latex in his hands before his eyes dropped to your chest. “But I can appreciate a good pair of boobs when I see them. You, my darling fucking slut, need… something done to yours.”

Your eyes blink rapidly while you take in his Chesire grinning form, his hands stretching out the material once again as he stalks towards you, his steps on the mattress commanding and near fearful to you. His hands brought to your chest and slammed you're onto your back. You howled in the stabbing pain on your ass and back, the raging anger from Shouto a bare wisp when Touya straddles you where you lie. His knee keeps your hips from rising off the bed, the painful stabs spreading through your body as you desperately cry in need of relief.

“Oh, I love when a slut cries,” Touya brims with sadistic joy, his tongue reaching towards your cheeks and licking the salty, hot tears that pour from your eyes. “The last bitch who came our way passed out after the old man fucked her, I like you a lot. I wonder if you’ll pass out with me! Don’t worry, though; if you do, I’ll make sure to wake you back up! I won’t let you miss out on anything!”

Through your sobs, your eyes remain clenched, trying to focus on anything that wasn’t the stabbing heartbeat in your ass. But when you finally cracked open an eye, tears still heavy in your eyes, dripping with no restraint, did you finally see what that latex was for.

Your breasts were roughly put through the holes that looked no bigger than a child's fist. Touya’s hands roughly guide your breasts through so that they come out on the other side. Immediately you could feel the discomfort in this; the blood circulating in your breasts slowed to the point of no blood passing, your breasts throbbing with every beat of your heart that caused blood to flow there. 

Through this latex trap, your breasts are shaped into something akin to teardrops, the skin already discoloring from the lack of proper flow. You moaned in pain, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as Touya slapped your tit.

“Oh yeah, there we go, so much prettier!” he delighted, his finger flicked your engorged nipple, your bottom lip trembling with undeniable pain. “Does that feel good, y/n? It looks good, I hope you’re fine?”

You can’t find the words to respond, your head swimming with drowning waves of both pain and pleasure. Your eyes can only heavily blink, but your gaze was miles away, unable to focus or see anything as you attempted to adjust to the thundering pain. “Imma… fuck…” was the only thing you could manage.

Touya’s head cocked to the side, his hands still paddling your breasts around with no care to the way you were pathetically whimpering with every small stroke of his fingers.

“You want to fuck already, slut?” he asked, a mocking frown on his face while he shook his head. “You haven’t even seen my cock yet!”

While he stood up, his foot still pressed your aching ass onto the mattress, and you wheezed heavily. Proudly, Touya discarded the boxers he wore and freed his cock in all its glory. You stared at his cock, your pain is forgotten suddenly at the sight of the piercing full cock he had. The swollen dripping red head of his cock bounced up to hit his stomach, and you could only look at the piercings that littered his genitals. There were so, so many of them. Many of which you knew by name already, but so much more you couldn’t even begin to name.

“What?” he mocks, his lips splitting into a curling smile. “Never seen a real man’s cock before?”

He gave you no time to even consider what to do, for he reached down, his fingers clenching your hair at the roots, and threw you back up onto your ass. Your skin sang in pain, feeling as if it was melting as it pressed against the rough mattress. His hands tugged up and down against his pierced cock. The white hair of his pubes almost glistening in promise to be soaked in both your essence with time.

“I expect to be fucked well,” Touya says, his fist guiding his cock toward your grimacing mouth, and his other hand bringing you closer and closer. “Open those slutty legs.” 

Your legs don’t open on time, and the leaking pre-cum smears all over your legs. This was unacceptable for Touya, and his eyes flash dangerously, his hand striking against your cheek, bruising your face as you cried out. But he takes this as an initiative to thrust your legs open and sinks down as far as he can go while not straining you yet. 

This was a whole new level of sensation. Touya’s cock, while not as big as Shouto’s or Enji’s cock, had the ice-cold piercing lining all over his cock, tickling and dragging against your puffy, swollen walls. Your fingers pressed up against his back, and you moaned at the new sensations. You push further against him, adding to the now frantic rhythm, fucking against his cock with enough vigor to make Touya cackle out your name.

“Look at you go! You are a good cock slut! I had my doubts, but fuck — yes, just like that!” his voice a mantra for your actions, his hands pressing flat on your neck and shamelessly, recklessly fucking you faster.

You relax against his rocking hips, you’re focused on your breathing as his cock moves up and down your cunt, the piercings adding to the stimulation. 

Deeper and deeper, you feel his cock move within you. But one hand moves from your neck and slams down against your breasts. Just like that, your bodily discomforts thrust back into you at full speed, your body contorting and hissing at the way your breasts throbbed in pain. However, with your attention broken, Touya slammed his cock all the way into your cunt, the steel point of a piercing stabbing your womb

It caught you off guard, your throat legs kicking his hips, suffocating gags and chokes emitting from your mouth while you forgot how to breathe through the pain and his hand around your throat. Your hands pounded on his back, your face feeling like it was purpling, your body thumping with your pounding blood, and lack of air.

“Hold it there, slut, hold it!” Touya hisses, his eyes gleeful and sadistic. Your eyes blinked heavily with tears when you looked up to see Touya’s eyes closed, his eyes rolled to the back of his head in a pleasurable activity. “I know which piercing you’re feeling… good…” he sighs, finally pulling you from his length. You spluttered loudly, hacking for air when he removed his hand from your throat. 

With a twist to your throbbing nipples and a yank of your hair, his cock carded between your sopping lips. Moans and pants spilling out with every wild thrust of his against your clit. 

The feeling of his calloused fingers digging into your side, flipping you over, stung with a burning sensation. All you know is that your body burned where he touched you, and your thighs ached as you settled on your stomach. You wanted his cock buried deep within you; you wanted more than anything to feel those piercing rutting against your sopping walls without restraint. You wanted more.

“How the fuck am I supposed to fuck you like that?” Touya snaps at you, breaking you from your trance. Your eyes widen when you shift your head to look at Touya, whose cock is fully erect, and you realize in growing heat that he was going to fuck you from behind. Something was maddening sweet about these Todoroki men fucking you from behind, to feel their tight chest pressed against your back.

Your fingers dug into the mattress as you groaned loudly, your ass rising off the bed, but not enough for your knees to position themselves correctly. His body heat radiated onto you from behind, and you rub your thighs together at the thought of Touya gripping your ass as he drilled into you from behind. He drew nearer, spacing your rubbing thighs apart, so your heated cunt met the unmerciful cold air of the room.

You spluttered against the mattress, your voice a soft and needing whine as you stared behind you in desperation.

“You fuck me with your cock,” you reply back, hoping that in moments like these, it would help in your favor. You’re not sure what effect it took on Touya, only that his lips pulled back into a shark-like grin, his turquoise eyes drowning you in a deep color while he barked in laughter.

“Get on your knees,” Touya smoothly stated, his voice creamy smooth, adding to the gentle way that his fingernail was caressing and stroking your soaked inner thighs.

“Nope.”

“Oh?” Touya breathed, his tongue dragging across his lip in a way that made you shudder at your response. This was a mistake you made, you knew that, but the blistering fire in your core made you reconsider.

There was no time to react when Touya’s hands were suddenly filled with ties, and he grabbed your wrists in his hand and tugged you behind you towards him. Before you could attempt to pull back, to resist being bound because you absolutely hated not being able to move your arms, the tie is properly looped around your arms, and you’re locked in place.

“Now on your chest and knees like a good slut,” Touya directs, running a hand through his sweaty locks while spreading out his stance, still on his knees. The ties were almost uncomfortable with how tight they were, and you remained stagnant, staring at the white-haired sadist who was looking increasingly more frustrated with you. He was someone who commanded and demanded respect and attention, and you had your own fun chipping away at it all. But with your lack of action, his expression sours, and he grasps your hair in his hand, yanking you back so that your chest lifted off the bed, leaving only your discolored nipples grazing the mattress. “Are you fucking deaf?”

You gasp loudly when Touya’s hand slams your face to the mattress, your back curved, arms pressed into your shoulder blades.

“I thought sluts had better form than this,” Touya sneers while pressing a heavy hand against the center of your spine. You adjusted immediately under his force, your back arching with your pert ass in the air still bright and blistered in the air. “There, you look much better.”

The mattress pressed against your chest in a suffocating way, your heart hammering as you realized what was to come.

Rei’s voice drowned back into the background, and you looked at the giggling wine drinking monarch of the family, but regret-filled your loins, the coil in your stomach lessening in your fear. Touya was above you, silent as a monk, giving no emotions or feelings for you to read, that is until he began. The bed shifted by your knees, and you could only imagine what was happening as you could feel his pierced cock carding against your sopping folds, the piercing on the top of his cock dragging deliriously against your puffy clit. With a shivering moan from your lips, he pulled back before slamming profoundly and entirely into you.

A raw scream ripped through your mouth, your body nearly collapsing under his touch. His piercings were staggeringly cold in your heated cunt, sizzling, and burning against your puffy walls. There was no denying the fact that they added a whole new world of friction, deliciously and viciously dragging against the curves of your spongy walls, your bucking, spasming body doing nothing to make the pleasure any less. It only gave you more, and with the stinging in your ass. the loss of feeling in your breasts, and the now twitching overstimulated feeling in your cunt. Your eyes slammed to the back of your head.

The pure unadulterated lust and strength in every drop of his cock in your cunt were something you thought you should handle — but those piercings had drool pouring past your lips. With each hypnotizing slam of his hips, shrill shrieks of pleasures ripped from your throat, and you preened your head to look at Touya.

Sure enough, Touya was positioned on his feet, his knees bent as he dropped into your awaiting cunt with such savagery that your eyes rolled back watching him. Sweat dripped down his neck, his hands gripping your bruised and battered ass like some type of life support, and the squelching noises of your slamming sex were making your body weak.

“That feels so — ohmygod ohmygod — do that! Yes, yes, yes!”

“I want you to look at Shoucchan!” Touya bristled, his smile burning against your back. “Look at him, and tell him who’s making you feel this way?! Who’s making your cumdump pussy throb and clench with need and desire?”

“Y-You!” You scream, your hips buck against his slamming hips. It was so raw, so rough, and you were enjoying every passing second. “You are!”

“Look at him fucking bitch!” Touya snarls, his hand slapping your ass with a powerful stinging force, and his fingers moved to pinch your inflated breasts. You howled in a pleasure-filled pain, your tearing eyes looking at Shouto in your hysteria, a drool covered smile pressed to your face as you meet his raging eyes, his body trembling with what you knew was rage and jealousy. 

“T-Touya’s making me feel so good, Shoucchan,” the nickname drips like a taunt from your mouth as Touya rocks into you with unforgiving rage and power. The squelching of your meeting sex almost as loud as your babbling voice. “He’s fucking my cumdump pussy, making it throb a-and clench!”

Touya puffs out with your praise, all while he continues to fuck you roughly. He was in a zone, his bright eyes standing his ground as his younger brothers stared at him, feeling like it could kill someone right now. His concentration was like steel as he pounded into you again and again. Your inner walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating cock, weeping with the pleasure stunted stimulation of the plenty of piercing viciously rubbing against your inner walls, and the heated pressure had built up all over again.

His cock twitched within you; it knocked the breath out of you; his fingers twisted into your hair, snapping you back.

“Fucking gonna fill you up until you’re overflowing,” jerking your head back towards him again, and you sob as your legs tremble against his increasing power. “You’re gonna be so full with my cum, you’re going to be my breeding slut, carrying my fucking child after all this.”

You feel your eyes cross, screaming out his name as your walls clamp down fiercely against his length. Touya curses loudly, his hips slamming completely against your hips and staying there as sticky substances eject from his throbbing head. Touya lets out a string of curses, and you moan, knowing that he came on you. The both of you collapse on the bed, ragging shallow breaths tumbling from both your chests as you attempt to steady yourselves.

“Just so you know who you fucking belong to here,” Touya taunts, but his words aren’t for you, but instead Shouto. You feel his finger press against the skin right above your ass, and you blink once, twice, and suddenly scorching white, impossibly unbearable heat burns into your skin. 

His finger burned brightly with his quirk, blue flames dancing across your skin as you howled and screamed in pain. He had branded you with his name, ‘Touya’ scrawled messily against your skin, white, bloodied, and blistered with the disappearance of his finger.

“Touya!” Rei snapped, her eyes narrowing on her eldest son as Shouto managed to break through the restraints, the chains clattering loudly on the floor as Enji and Natsuo both did everything they could to restrain him where he sat. “You weren’t allowed to brand someone who isn’t yours, you know that!”

“Oh relax,” Touya rolled his eyes, his cock removing from your quivering cunt with a low sigh. “It wasn’t anything permanent. It should only last a week if you put ointment on it. If we still got that shit for when Shouto got burned, it should heal up in seconds.”

You remained on the bed, painful, heavy tears pouring down your face as you sobbed.

The latex was burnt off your body, and your breasts throbbed in grateful pleasure at your sudden release. But you could feel his name engraved into your skin, and it hurt. You sniffled against the mattress, your body sweaty and gross as his cum seeped out from your cunt. A soft hand pressed to your brand with some ointment that made you cry, even more, tensing against a gentle touch.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” Fuyumi’s voice was gentle against your pounding ears. “I’ll fix you up, and then you’ll be good to go!”

You don’t remember passing out from the pain, but you know that some time has passed when you open your eyes. You can still feel the low throbbing pains of your back where Touya had etched his skin, but it was no longer causing you awful pain. A soft groan passed your lips while you felt a gentle stroke of fingers brush over where the branding had once been.

“Oh! You’re conscious again!” Fuyumi cheered delightfully, her lips pressing to your sweaty temple with a gracious smile. “I’m happy to tell you that we managed to salvage your skin! The blisters and burns are all gone!”

A soft whimper presses against your teeth as you nod in thanks, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. “Thank you,” you rasp, your eyes fluttering in the way coolness washes over your still blazing skin. Fuyumi’s quirk doing wonders to your beaten skin. 

“I’m glad you’re doing okay!” Fuyumi continued to chirp, and your fingers trembled, your head nodding at the way her tone was so, so sweet and light. Was she going to be the most comfortable fuck so far? You certainly hoped so. “Please know that you have to call me nee-chan, or else your nee-chan will get upset. Do you understand?”

A hitched huff passes your lips, and you nod, you understand… wait! Your head snapped up, your body aching at the way you twisted around to stare at Fuyumi, who was looking at you still with a sugar-sweet smile on her face and the biggest fucking dildo sitting on her strap. 

Nee-chan?

“Let’s begin!”

Let it not be said that you couldn’t follow instructions. This entire past twenty minutes or so, you had been as obedient as one could be when you found out your boyfriend’s family was a cult — and even more so obedient then you ever expected yourself to be. The word nee-chan dripped from your lips in an echoed distant prayer when Fuyumi rolled you over so that your back was being pressed into the mattress. 

You squealed at the sensation of your sore backside pressing into the rough material of the mattress, your eyes clenching while you flinched at the spectacle. 

“I’ve always been outnumbered by my brothers and my father. I’ve seen their cocks in action, and the first time I got to join in on someone, my dildo was pathetic. I couldn’t get anyone to scream the way they did through my strap energy. I know I eat pussy better than they do. Still, I wanted to make sure that I was better than them in everything,” Fuyumi’s words are informational, trying to explain just why the dildo she was using was what you would consider being a dragon dildo. 

She moves the dildo against your clit, your body twisting and contorting as the artificial veins drag sinfully against your aching nerves. her hands pressing against your abdomen as she did so, gently thrusting, studying the way that you keened and gasped for more. “We got to do this so many times! Did ya know that my poor brother Natsuo brought three girls to this initiation? None of them passed! It’s not so fun fucking people who can’t keep up… that’s why I’m so happy Shouto found you, y/n! You’re keeping up so well!”

A particular thrust of her hips lands a staggering white-hot jolt up your spine, your head tossing backward as you moan, your hips rising instinctively to grind against the dildo she refuses to put in. You’d never been with any girl before, and this was all so new, to begin with. When your once dry mouth seemed to pool with your saliva, your abdomen was built with electrifying pressure. You could only think of getting more from this. You wanted Fuyumi to fuck you to oblivion. 

But she had plans, ideas to do before she even considered planting her dragon cock into your sopping pussy. 

“Tell me if you like this or not, little sister,” Fuyumi teased, her eyes moving to focus on your already hazed ones, her hands pressing down on your diaphragm, and her lips erotically pressed to the side of your breasts. She spends a few seconds lavishing your breasts with attention, her hot, wet tongue flicking and twirling your skin around, trying to make you squirm even more under her conquesting tongue.

“I-It feels good,” you mewl, your breasts singing in grace and pleasure of how her tongue flicks and curls over your pebbled nipples. 

But you omitted nee-chan. 

Her fingernails pinched and twisted the sensitive skin near your lymph nodes, a pained gasp emitting from your lips while you writhed under her. Your pants are heavy and loud while Fuyumi tuts against your breast, “Try again,” she commands, her mouth tearing into your skin.

“It feels good, nee-chan,” you gasp, your eyes noticing the way that the anger and ferocity seem to melt away from her eyes. Replacing it with nothing but warmth and kindness in her place.

It sent an odd shiver down your spine; this was the persona of someone you knew was dangerous. Stay on her good side, and you would be rewarded. Get on her bad side, and well, you had a gut instinct that she would be worse than even Touya. Fuyumi’s teeth leave your skin, moving on to continue to lavish your body in her sweet lips and gentle kisses. She left behind a trail of bites and bruises, your skin purpling and brightening wherever she left. 

Her skin was unparalleled so far, each strike and curl of her tongue, making you pant in such fervor you nearly forget to add nee-chan on multiple occasions. But you were a quick learner, a good learner, especially if she was to be treating you like this. With her lips dancing and grazing against your skin, you felt amazing. On top of the way that the dildo still continues to drag through your folds, teasing, stimulating your abused cunt. 

You were turned on, almost painfully so. Your clit throbbed, and your nipples ached with an unrestricted need while Fuyumi pushed up against your breasts, her hips circling and snapping into you. 

Fuyumi’s hands trail down, squeezing your soft thighs in her grasp, pulling your legs up closer to her, wrapping your sturdy legs around her form. The adjustment sends jarring shivers down your spine. Your lips fall open, stuttered gasps drenching the room as the vein on the dildo grows bigger and more complicated with this new reach, this new angle.

Her hands felt delicate against your skin, almost like porcelain but with an undertone of steel to her grip. And you gasp as in your blinded state, her lips latching onto your neck. Her teeth nibbling on your vein makes you moan, your back arching as she presses on, unafraid of what she’s doing.

“Tell me…” She breathes against your skin. Your fingers clutching her biceps between your hands as you lie against your seat. “What does my dirty little sister want?”

Your eyes open. Degradation was something you’ve never tried before. But those words send heat towards your cunt. You moan as her fingers trail under your tank top, her nails dragging against your sensitive skin. Her hands are on your waist, and she pulls your legs until your ass is pressing against the bottom curve of the dildo. Your hips come to roll against hers, a movement that causes her to hiss.

Her smile makes your walls flutter in anticipation as your mouth opens to answer, your tongue slippery in your mouth, “I… I want to be fucked. I want my nee-chan to stick her dildo in me, and claim me. I want my nee-chan’s to taste my cunt. And I want her to fuck me without holding back, I don’t want my nee-chan to hold back at all.” 

Your flushed face can barely stay facing Fuyumi, but you shiver at her head dropping backward, a preemptive moan escaping her mouth at the thought of doing all those things. You weren’t ashamed to admit it, and you glowed at her inability to look at you right now. “I want to be used as your sex toy. Using me after dominating me in whatever way and desire my nee-chan wants – shit!”

There’s a hard thrust against your aching core, and Fuyumi has your hands above your head. Cold metal circling your wrists as you watch her handcuff you to the bed frame. “Fuyumi?!” you gasp, flinching when her hand comes down to strike your cheek in your slip up. You splutter against your stinging skin, your eyes watering while you continue to stare at Fuyumi, who looks down at you with a pout, her eyes so, so sad at your slip up.

“Call me, nee-chan, let me be your big sister!” she begs, a hopeful smile tugging at her lips and connecting with your collarbone. Goosebumps shoot through your body as your hands pull against the restraint. The cold metal hissing against your burning skin, cutting into your aching joints, her hands rutting the dragon cock against your pulsing clit.

You pant as Fuyumi pulls away, her fingers discarding her thin shirt while she grinned. 

“Don’t you just look lovely like this? Saying things about how you want to be fucked without restraint, but look at you! You barely survived, Touya! What makes you so confident that you’ll last with me?” her finger fork between your clit, your body twisting and shuddering under her milking fingers, her keen eyes studying every little way you bucked and moaned against her. “Such a fucking dirty little sister, aren’t you? How long can I make you wait for me to do anything but tease your puffy pretty clit, hm? Did you want me to fuck your dirty fucking pussy already? Do you want my cock to ram into you already? Claim you as mine?”

An aroused and insulted moan escapes your lips, and Fuyumi presses a heavy hand to your throat, immediately cutting off the airway, making you splutter and gasp under her weight. “I want an answer, y/n-chan.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head just momentarily, your breath hitching when you return her kind yet fearsome lust-filled eyes. Fuyumi was emitting some type of confidence that confused you to no end, yet it was very quickly overwhelming you. You wondered if she really was the reason why all those girls before you had failed?

“I’ve n-never done this!” you stammer in embarrassment while her fingers push apart your thighs. She inches backward slowly, her grey eyes taking you into completion, your hips rising and falling in your desperate need and crave of attention for your throbbing heated core.

Fuyumi chuckles, she slides her hands to your knees, pressing heavily onto them while she lowers her head. Her hot breaths hit your soaked core in gentle coaxing waves, causing you to whine, your hands tugging at the restraints in boggling need. Chills of pleasure spread among your skin while you whimper out her name, your hips stupidly rising to find a home, and she does nothing to ease your struggles. “I’m glad because you’re going to be my little sister, y/n! We’re going to be the best sisters, much more than the ones I got from Touya and Natsuo! But you promise you’ll only be mine? Promise that I’m going to be your only big sister?” Fuyumi begs of you, her fingers tracing your clothed slit. Your head nods rapidly in agreement, your hot puffing breathes heavy.

Fuyumi squealed in excitement, that same childlike glee washing over her. With the dragon cock so longer on your pussy, you looked down in a moment of sadness. Still, you were met with her two fingers thrusting up into your weeping cunt, angled perfectly for the first time doing it — you swear you can taste colors when she brushes against your g-spot without even trying. 

Your back arches off the bed. your body almost twisting in your attempt to get her out of your spasming core, you scream her name. “God, you’re such a tight little sister! I thought that after Touya and my dad, you’d be much looser, but that’s okay! You really wanted this to be the end result, didn’t you? You want your nee-chan to split your pussy in two!” Fuyumi squeals, her fingers curling into your walls. You sob in response, the overwhelming pleasure spreading like fire through your body as she coaxes her fingers against your walls. Her other hand shoots out to your parted mouth, sinking two fingers into your mouth as you whine when she presses down against your hot, pink tongue. “Come on, I know you can take my fingers! Show your nee-chan how well you suck!”

You moan against her fingers, your tongue swirling and pressing between her nimble fingers. But further down, your stomach tightens, and your hips bucking against her fingers, your grinding, rolling hips desperate to get her to do more to you. And as if she could tell that you wanted more, that you needed more, Fuyumi’s head tilts down to suck onto your puffy clit. Your muffled moan only riles her further, her body shivering against yours. Her tongue peeks out, while her gaze falls on yours, the pink, soft tongue swirls your throbbing clit around in her mouth, the sucking sensation of her mouth making you plead to her around her fingers. Her eyes are locked on your desperate eyes. She doesn’t stop, her fingers now scissoring within you as you shudder against her movements.

And much to your pleasure, she continues.

Her tongue strokes against your clit, lapping at the puffy bundle of nerves. Her nose buries into your clit while she stroked your soaked slit, teasing your entrance with her tongue despite her conquesting fingers. But it does something to you, your body trembling with want and need, and you can’t help but scream in desperation.

“Fuck, nee-chan—!” your hands clutched at the metal chains of the handcuffs. They bury into the palms of your hand while Fuyumi continues her assault upon your cunt. Her fingers run against the walls of your cunt by your belly, goosebumps, and fluttering sensations knocking through you with every hither motion of her fingers. But it was that tongue of hers that had you seeing the stars and the universe. Her tongue alternated from thrusting within your pulsing core, teasing your clenching flesh, sucking and nipping, and your blazing clit. She kneaded your clit between her fingers as you felt an unusual sensation creep up on your lower half. The feeling to pee was overwhelming your body as you tried to ignore it. Your eyes clenched shut as Fuyumi’s mouth, and fingers continued rutting into you, the loud squelch of her skin against your core sounding around the room, your cunt clenching down hard against her dancing fingers.

Fuyumi lets go of your clit all too soon and sighs happily. “You’re such an amazing little sister! Your pussy is so wet and so tight for me! You even squirted without me doing anything too drastic, and I don’t even have a cock in you still! Are you going to come so quickly again? You’re not going to tap out on your nee-chan before she’s done, are you?” Your head shakes fast, your back arching off the seats as you try getting more friction to your pussy that had experienced a goddesses touch and now wanted more. “I know you’re a good whore, you won’t come yet right now, right?”

Her fingers leave your mouth, and you cough with her disappearance. Your chest heaves as if you had been gagged or choked. Not at all what was happening to you right now, but in anticipation of what was to come.

“Nee-chan, please, I want you now!”

Fuyumi doesn’t even flinch as she instead removes her fingers from within you and runs her slick covered fingers against the dildo, much to your soft whimpers. 

You watch with increasing lust as Fuyumi removes her lacy snow bra. Now in front of you, gloriously naked and beautifully armed with that dildo, you wanted to kiss your cervix on her hips. She’s beautiful and perfect, and you wanted her to ruin you. Her breasts look full and ready to be touched, her curves making you feel jealous as she leans back over you. “Did you know you have the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen, y/n-chan?” You grunt, not at all liking all the talking and wanting her to sink that fucking dildo into yours. “Do you need to come now? You were taking my fingers so well, and I think my pretty little whore sister needs to come. I sure want to come; don’t ya, y/n-chan?”

You sob as your hands pull desperately against the restraint, your body unable to move from your position. “Yes, nee-chan, I want you to fuck me!” you cry as her fingers trace the sides of your body, your hips squirming under her touch. “I want to come, and I want you to cum on me.”

“You say such sweet things for a little sister,” Fuyumi giggles as she pushes your trembling legs back, the dragon cock held and guided with one hand to your awaiting dripping hole. “I hope you’re ready!”

“Please fuck me, please fuck me so good,” you plea, your eyes closing as you readied yourself, the tip of the dragon cock pressing into your eager cunt.

You could clench your eyes closed, the feeling of Fuyumi’s hips twitch with a whimper at the direct plea. She pulls out slightly and then pushes back, adding a tiny, yet powerful snap to herm hips, and your resulting sob for more seems to finally convince her exactly how much you needed to be fucked beyond sanity.

Finally, finally, Fuyumi buries her dragon dildo into your stretching, clenching cunt. Your jaw drops in a silent scream, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as the thick cock pushed slowly into you as if to torture you. You realized where you wanted Enji to be slow in burying his fat cock in you, you wanted her to be fast — this burned so slowly with her slow pace, and if the Cheshire grin on her face spoke anything, she knew that this is what you were thinking too.

Every vein on the dildo pulses against your vice walls, her hips steady as she lowered herself further into you. Your ragged exhausted pants hit her cum stained and sweaty chest, and the both of you look down to see that only half of the dildo fit in you. You’re surprised that much fits in you, but the fullness in your core tells you that it makes sense. Your eyes clench while you adjust to the size of that monster, but Fuyumi doesn’t take too long to recover from her own hesitations. Fuyumi’s hips then start rutting into you, hitting your hips in a fast, barbaric rhythm. And every single inhibition has left your body — this is like no dick you’ve ever experienced before, nothing has ever filled you out in such a way and… holy shit, what was that?! Your chants become incoherent screams when you realize that with every thrust of her hips, the dildo was vibrating against your walls.

“Yes. Yes, yes! Shit! Keep fucking me, keep—god, please don’t stop, nee-chan, it’s so good, it’s so so good—nee-chan!”

You can feel every millimeter of Fuyumi inside you. The dildo smashing unapologetically into your cervix that has you singing to the heavens, her steel hands in a bruising grip on your throat — not effectively silencing your whorish scream. Your essence sliding down and smearing all over the crease between your thigh and cunt – and all the time, Fuyumi’s momentum is building.

She drills faster and faster, she pleads that her younger sister is happy, the only thing you can hear is your pleasure-filled sobs and the smacking of her hips against yours. Your body twists and convulses, your wrists tremble from being held back, and with a climactic high, you came with an echoing sob. 

You lay broken against the bed, your body heaving and twitching when Fuyumi pulls the dildo from your cunt. You whimper heavily at the loss of contact, your wrists weakly circling in a poor attempt of drawing her near. Fuyumi cries happily while she tumbles off the bed, kissing you softly on the cheek as she removes the handcuffs.

“Because I can’t stuff you full with my cum, that’s it from me for now,” she sighs before disappearing with a soft giggle of delight.

You lay there for what felt like an eternity, your body sticky with sweat and cum, sore and throbbing from everything else you’ve endured.

“You seem to be a good girl, y/n,” Natsuo’s voice rings clear as day by your thighs.

With eyelids that felt like lead, you peered at Natsuo, smiling at you with kindness. Had it not been because Fuyumi had also approached you with the same sweet smile, maybe you would have reacted differently, but no. You were ready.

The Todoroki’s were cunning, deceitful, and powerful.

But there was a soothing coldness to his fingers. Soft coldness spread through your aching body, helping alleviate the burning sensations that trademarked the other Todoroki members. There were bruises all over your body, welts, and tears in your skin.

You didn’t mind them. After all, the masochist in you had been born ten times over today, it seemed. 

“There are some rules you must know before we begin,” Natsuo spoke with direct clarity, his face soft yet stern, his fingers gliding aimlessly around your heated inner thighs and cutting through your hood to your clit. You gasped loudly, your body spasming under his tantalizing touch, and he chuckled, his lips pressing to your knee. “You will address me as daddy, nothing else. Secondly, you will obey me, no matter what I say, or else…” his fingers forked through your clit, squeezing the sensitive nub between his strong fingers that had your body convulsing underneath him, “You will get punished, and I don’t want to hurt you, baby girl.”

There was a buzzing in your mind, a sweet need to see what would happen if you denied him. So far, it has only led to good things for you, things you would not have exchanged for the world. But still, you knew better than to test them out in the beginning; Enji’s handprint on your neck was more than enough evidence to tell you to wait until later.

“Hands and knees,” Natsuo spoke, his hands stroking and massaging your inner thighs in a way that just further ignited the fire that spewed madly within your loins.

Rolling onto your knees, your arms buckled beneath you as you positioned yourself for him, your pert ass in the air, bruised and swollen beyond its initial appearance. You drop your back, allowing for the arch of your back to entice him to show off for your current daddy and Shouto, who was watching.

Without looking, you knew that your asshole was wet with the leaking cum of both Touya and Enji would have both filled you up plenty. And Natsuo stared at the milky opaque substance with interest, his arms crossed his chest.

Impatience began to soak through your skin, a pout on your face as you wiggled your ass for good measure, trying to capture Natsuo’s attention.

“Daddy, please do something!” you whined and broke his stern gaze from your ass to your eyes. 

His eyes were dark, sparkling with that energy they all seemed to possess: cunning and possessive. A smirk spread on his lips as he chuckled, stepping closer to the bed.

“Where would you want me to touch you, princess?” Natsuo questioned, his hands already assuming a position on your ass, pushing the mounds of flesh apart only to let them come back and slap together. Your cunt, having already been abused, still sparked with life, but it seemed that a chill ran through your ass. Only having had Enji’s fingers up your ass, you craved for something more, something sturdier — thicker. “Show your daddy.”

You whimpered, teetering onto one hand as your now free hand grabbed your breast, pinched your nipple, and moved to your puffy clit. 

Natsuo watched you like a hawk, his eyebrow-raising when your fingers slipped between your wet folds and even glided to your tight asshole. 

“There?” he spoke, his voice sounding restrained and tight.

You moaned, “I want daddy’s cock everywhere.”

Biting your lower lip, you saw Natsuo groan, his fingers slipping into your cunt, pleased with the heat and the wet juices that still remained. 

“You’re so fucking tight, princess,” Natsuo groaned, his mouth placing approving kisses on the small of your back. “I thought they were going to ruin you for your daddy, but fuck… I wonder… daddy wonders how tight that pretty little ass of yours is.”

You shiver at the prospect, your eyes pleading for him to indulge in his thoughts as you wiggle your ass in approval.

“You want that, huh, princess, you want daddy to breed that little asshole of yours!” Natsuo grinned, his teeth scraping the length of your spine, and you shook with glee.

“Yes, daddy! I want you to breed my asshole, please fuck my asshole!” you begged, feeling his calloused fingers already circling around your hips, trailing to your outer than inner thighs as you trembled against him. 

Natsuo pressed sloppy, wet kisses from the top of your ass down until he met your slicked inner thigh, just avoiding the throb of both your ass and cunt. You keened against him, fingers burying into the wet mattress as you tried not to beg too loudly, you mustn’t disturb your daddy. 

“Such a good girl, princess,” Natsuo praises, his fingers curling within your cunt again, slicking his fingers up with your essence. They pump within you lazily, and you moan loudly, eyes fluttering as you press your face against the mattress, your walls forcibly clenching against his fingers. He eventually pulls out of your wet heat, and teasingly, horribly edges you when his fingers circle around your clenched muscle, getting close enough for you to whimper, but too far for any sort of pleasure. “Good fucking girl,” he repeated, his other hand moving to your clit, pinching and tugging at the nerve with soft, languid strokes. “Daddy thinks you deserve to be treated.”

You didn’t have the chance to support his decision for his hand came smacking against your ass with a powerful thrust, nearly sending you toppling over as you shook against him. He spanked you again, and again, and again—the flesh on your ass bouncing against his movements, sending Natsuo into a wide grin of amusement. 

“Tell me where you want daddy’s mouth the most right now,” Natsuo asked, fingers clenching your ass, massaging the sore flesh in his cold hands. 

“My ass!” you sobbed, feeling entirely spent by every little movement. “Daddy, I want you to eat my ass!”

“Such a dirty princess,” Natsuo scoffs, but there's enjoyment in his voice, and his warm, hot breath expels against your pert, puckered hole. 

You shook against him, rotating your hips as you felt the ghost of his lips breeze against your hole. His fingers, still wet with your slick, suddenly invaded your ass, and you keened loudly at the feeling of two thick fingers suddenly pressing past your unsuspecting, unanticipated hole. You, like a bitch in heat, rolled your hips, your breathing heavy and hot as you nodded your head in wordless praise.

“Fuck…” you managed, your eyes barely in focus to see the throbbing cock tented in Shouto’s pants, and you grin.

But as his fingers press downward onto your hole, you shudder, mouth falling open when his wet, hot tongue presses through your asshole, licking and lapping at the skin that was untouched by his fingers. You shook manically, your body trembling as he ate your ass, the wet, lewd noises almost pornographic as you screamed for your daddy.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, arms restlessly moving behind you to shove his face further between his ass, to get his tongue even further in your anal cavity. His thumb was spreading the slick of his saliva all-around your asshole, his fingers and tongue probing further into your ass, allowing you further penetration as you moaned his name.

His mouth completely surrounded your muscled hole, and your vision blacked when he sucked on your asshole, letting your legs shake furiously as you trembled with the vacuuming sensation. “Holy shit — daddy!” you squeaked in shock, back arching even further as that new sensation burned through your body. But he didn’t stop there; he continued to move forward, continuing to assault your pretty and raw ass.

His tongue fucked your ass, and his other fingers slipped into your cunt, his middle finger rubbing your clit as you shook with waving rolling pleasure. Your head snapped to look at him, eyes desperate and keen on looking into his amused, bright eyes. They sparkled with joy, winking at you with no remorse as his tongue flicked the innards of your anal cavity. 

“You like me eating your ass, princess? Tell me how much you like my tongue in your ass,” Natsuo growled against your rim, voice shaking your core, making your eyes flutter with the growing need. “Tell your daddy.”

You moaned loudly, your ass shaking with the need for him to focus even more on your ass as senseless babbles poured from your throat, “Daddy’s tongue feels so funny in my ass! It’s so wet, so hot, so long! It makes my ass feel f-funny!! Daddy’s making my ass and pussy feel so good!”

Four fingers pressed into your hole, and you screamed in the alarming pain, your teeth sinking into your arm as Natsuo thrust his fingers in and out of your stretched and wet asshole. He drilled into your sloppy ass, uncaring of the way that Shouto snapped at him, only drinking in the vulgar cries of his name that you continued to supply him in endless amounts. 

“Can daddy add his last finger into your ass?” Natsuo asked, his thumb scraping the cleavage of your ass. “Can daddy put his finger in and fist your ass? Daddy knows you can take it, princess, you’re doing so well, you can take daddy’s cock in your pretty little ass.”

His pumping fingers were too much for you, your head mindlessly nodding in agreement because the moment five fisted fingers entered your ass, you could no longer think straight. Natsuo smirked, his tongue whirling within your spasming hole.

With his fist now entirely in your ass, you struggled to breathe, your lungs feeling as if it was in your ass, and the fingers that once delighted your cunt was replaced suddenly with his thick, throbbing cock. 

You couldn’t remember what was right, what was up, or your name at the entirely full feeling of his cock and fist in your cunt and ass. You shook violently, cumming immediately as he bottomed out within you and wasted no time in snapping his hips into you. Except, his fist suddenly leaves your clenching, gaping asshole, and he rolls you over, cock resting on your stomach as he looks at you with wicked pleasure.

Natsuo grabs your legs, hoisting them up so that the angle of which he was attempting to fuck you in was prime breeding position.

“Daddy’s going to give your pussy what it wants now, and he’s going to overfill you with his cum until you dripping him out for days… you’d look so cute pregnant, y/n, so fucking cute.”

You’re not sure if that last part was for you or for Shouto, whose gaze is still carved into every slick cover curve on your body. But it makes you let out a strained moan, a moan that has his lips spreading into a smile against your jaw. Without much time to think, time to even attempt to grow comfortable with the situation you were in, his hips snapped upward, his cock fully hard and bottoming out in you with one powerful snap.

Your knees are subsequently buried within the mattress by your head. Your body aching in this position, and your toes curling and pressing against each other. Natsuo lays on top of you, the penetration deep and thrilling, and his hands pressing your forearms above your head. The weight of having him on you is exhilarating, and while you feel your face drum with the blood staying in your head, the feeling of his balls bouncing against your ass sends you spluttering with undenied lust.

His cock slams against the wall of your cervix repetitively while his lips attach to your neck. Each blow into you is massive and powerful. Powerful enough to have you crying so loudly, you can hear it ringing against the walls, his hands bruising your forearms in his. The thrusts are so powerful, incredibly jolting with your head bouncing on the mattress.

Again and again, he slams into you. His thrusts knocking the wind out of you until you release his hands and find yourself digging your fingers into his back, crying out his name desperately while his teeth find a home on your neck. The powerful pounding of his cock makes you mewl loudly, your hips jerking up to meet his, your heels digging into his back, lifting you off the bed to meet his powerful, sweat breaking thrust.

“Cum in me,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back in pleasure behind the blindfold, “breed me, please, breed me.”

“You’ll be full of my fucking kids in no time, your cute belly will be round with my kids, not those old as shit men,” he snaps against your jaw, his cock throbbing within your pussy, and loud echoing slaps fill the room. 

You couldn’t take the feeling of how his body moved perfectly within you; the strength and power behind his every move were almost too natural as if this was an everyday thing. You let out noises reasonably similar to a purr, grinding your cunt against his conquesting cock and laughing breathlessly at his low groan.

“You like this, princess?” Natsuo bites at your jaw, his thrusts making you shriek out his name as he buries you further into the bed, your nails digging into his flesh. “You like the way my cock fills your pussy the same way my tongue ate your ass?” 

You nod rapidly, your eyes closed, your mouth open, your pants tumbling from your mouth. Your sanity was lying on a string, his actions the reasons for your downfall.

His leverage was small, but every thrust seemed to have his cock pulled out of you nearly completely. Before he drilled back into your pussy. The noises of your connecting wet sex left a loud echo with your squelching pussy around his hot cock.

“You like the way I fuck your pussy? The way that I’ll fill you with my seed for days to come?” he growls into your ear, his hips inhumanly slamming into you.

“I need you to breed me,” you sob, the fire in your face as bright and hot as the one between your legs. His sweaty forehead pressed against your collarbone, and his lips sunk into your skin.

Your mind goes blank when a mighty crash goes through you. Natsuo is entirely lost in the feeling of your clenching vice walls, his ragged breaths hitting your skin with every excessive, overpowering roll of his hips. You cry while your head thrashes against the mattress, your forearms slamming against his head while you pant.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he growls, and once again slams into you. “No wonder why Shouto didn’t want to share you.”

His hips continue to drive into you, a show of just how much he wanted to fill you, claim you despite your Shouto sitting so nearby. His thick cocking strained your walls, but the way his cock would twitch within the confines of your plush, spongy walls had you reeling for more. Your teeth biting into his skin when an incredibly hard thrust sent your eyes to the back of your head, your back arching, cunt squeezing as you tumbled off the high point.

“Cum, sir,” you beg, your hips wildly thrashing against his. “Please, fill me with your seed!”

That’s all it takes, and a hot and heavy load shoots through you, and Natsuo collapses onto you. Your jaw-dropping and gaping like a fish out of water while your eyes fluttered with your crashing high. There’s a silence for a while, the weight of Natsuo on your body a comfort until he’s pulling away from you, cock slipping from your cum filled cunt, and body abandoning yours on the bed. But you don’t look; you’re too tired to look.

“Get up, fucking whore,” a voice breaks your thoughts, and your closed eyes twitch towards the Touya’s voice. There was a pause before he spoke again, a smirk evident in his tone.“It’s time for the best part.”

Your eyes focused hazily onto the group of family members around you, your thoughts racing a mile a second in the horrific wonder of what was to come. 

You had already gone through them all on your own. You had seen how they fucked you on their own grounds, their own terms, but this was different. There was obvious tension in the four of them, dynamics, and intense feelings unable to be muffled in this state. Their personalities when it was just you and them clearly having been discarded. Their actions and thoughts are now clearly swayed by who they were now forced to work with.

Shouto was the last one to be married, you knew that, and you were the only one he’s dated. With that knowledge, you knew that they’ve never been in a situation like this before. 

You glanced at Enji, whose face was stern and solid. There was no emotion on his face, save the scorching embers in his eyes that passed between his sons. A fire curled in your core when that same gaze fell on you, and you immediately understood what he was rationalizing. He was older now, especially when he fucked the other spouses — he was no longer the true alpha. By the looks of how there was no bite to his face, you knew he was here to see which son was best.

Touya looked at you in a possessiveness that should be reserved for the one he loved most, not someone like you. His eyes stared straight into you, unwavering, unmoving. You were nothing more than some lucky bitch in his eyes, but a bitch that he was going to make sure everyone knew was his. His chest puffed out in want and excitement, a hint for anyone to challenge him. He was going to make sure everyone abided by him — he was the one fighting hardest for the proper alpha role.

Fuyumi was the complete opposite. Even though she had probably fucked you the best out of everyone in the circle, she came off as a non-threat. Her fingers gentle while cleaning you up from the sweat and cum that marinated your body. You can’t even pass up a thank you for you’re beyond words. She was a tricky one, someone who commanded things from the shadows and behind a sweet smile. Fuyumi could take Touya down if he wasn’t careful. 

Then there was Natsuo. His gaze continuously shifts between his older siblings as if in worry, in fear of what they might do or say to him — as if he didn’t tower over them. If you weren’t so dazed by the sheer pleasure of this all, you might have wondered just what might have happened between them all before. Still, it is evident that he had begrudgingly accepted his subordinate role; you could practically taste that in the air, but the defiance shone brightly in his eyes. He still wanted you as much as they did, and he would be damned if he gave in without a fight.

Finally, Shouto, who still was strapped to the chair, but he was someone you were well aware of. He’d always been the unspoken chosen one of the family, someone who undoubtedly would kill both Enji and Touya for how they stared at you. You shivered at the thought.

For the first time that night, the vast bed would finally be used to its full potential. 

They all climbed on at once, the bed sinking on multiple locations, and your hands pressed onto the mattress, excitement coursing through your veins as they drew nearer. You were unsure where to look first, who to give your attention to first because good god, you wanted them all on you, in you. But Fuyumi was without her strap on, and your eyes fell onto Shouto, who was staring at you with a raging hard-on. Rei petted his hair while she drank what was definitely her tenth glass of wine, her own eyes swimming with lustful mirth.

It takes no time for all of them to mount the bed, and suddenly, your face is covered while Fuyumi plants her slick wet pussy over your gaping mouth. Hands pressing against your ass to lift you up as a cock that feels vaguely familiar to Natsuo fills your ass out, and the cold piercings of Touya's cock press through your tight cunt as you whine into Fuyumi’s folds. You feel something hot and thick press into your palm, and you know it's Enji’s cock.

“How is she still this fucking tight?” Touya moaned, his hips pressing into you, bottoming out inside you. You moaned loudly inside Fuyumi’s core, her loud mewling ringing in your ears as you awkwardly, inexperienced lapped at her soaked folds as the brothers' cocks moved within your throbbing cunt and ass. “You think her fucking quirk is the reason why she doesn’t ever loosen up despite having been pounded to hell and back?”

Your hand tries to run up and down Enji’s cock, fisting his thick length as you eat Fuyumi out with more vigorous, more confident laps. But the piercings on Touya’s cock and the veins on Natsuo’s cock seem to be hypersensitive against your spent walls. The feeling of two, irreplicable cocks within your ass and cunt, making your head spin as your teeth graze Fuyumi’s clit, fingers tracing Enji’s cock.

Fuyumi's hand reaches behind you to clench at the roots of your hair as she shifts her hips, wasting no time to allow herself the greatest amount of pleasure against your virgin mouth. Trying to replicate what you knew well from Shouto, and what she had done to you so many minutes earlier, your tongue pushed against her slit, not going through, but just enough to lap at the essence that had already pooled from her lips. And then a satisfied groan escaped her as the tip of your tongue pushed against her cavern. And she rocked against your face, falling even deeper onto your face.

“Yes, just like that, little sister!” Fuyumi bubbles, her hips grinding down lower on your mouth, your nose pressing awkwardly onto her circulating hips. 

Your hips thrust upward against Natsuo’s and Touya’s cocks, and both men fumbled their tongues, their cocks slamming within you, grazing your cervix and hitting your guts in a single stroke. Your fingers nearly let Enji’s cock slip from your grip as you tried to focus on getting them all to feel good; you wanted to win this, wanted to get that ring on your finger and make them submit to you being one of them — the best of them.

“You really picked a great one, Shoucchan, oh my god—” you caught Fuyumi off guard as your hand slips from beside you, curling against her clit with accurate precision given the way that she nearly collapses against you. “Yes, just like that! Yes, yes!” she chants, her hips grinding down on you, your back pressed against her breasts, giving her the only other stimulation you could. 

“Enji, she’s doing so well.” 

A voice called out sweetly in the background, and your eyes skimmed to the side to see Rei at the foot of the bed. Her wine glass she had been drinking this entire time abandoned on her chair and Shouto struggled against the restraints with shivering shudders of the chains. Enji’s eyes looked down at his wife, and he nodded in agreement, pulling out his length from your hand and watching his sons thrust into your cunt and ass like it was god's one and only gift. 

Rei’s tongue playfully lolling out while she continued to observe the erotic scene before her. She wet her lips at the sight of her daughter riding your face, the vulgar moans that sang from your lips as Fuyumi praised you again and again. 

“You’re so good at this,” Fuyumi whines, her thighs tensing around you, her weight pushing against you, and you moaned while grinding your nose on her large clit. “I'm gonna cum on you, y/n-chan.”

“Do you think we need to teach our sons how to fuck women better?” Rei questioned, her gaze peering on your tear-soaked ones. You whined against their cocks as you struggled to keep up with the impossibly wide stretch of your ass and cunt as they fucked you savagely, uncaring of what noises you were screaming for them. But the rhythmic hitting of both their cocks against the slick of your sweaty, slick skin. 

The piercings of Touya’s cock became a more burning feeling, and when your eyes fell back up to Fuyumi’s bright tear-filled eyes, you were almost surprised to see that it was no longer raging lust in them, just joy. You choke against Fuyumi’s core, the sweet taste of her essence doubling on your tongue with the removal of your nose for breathing. But you struggle to breathe and continue dancing your language between her folds with your fingers as assistance, her fingers return to your nipples.

As your tongue twirls and lifts, her fingers roll and pinch. 

She matches your every move with something new on your fingers, getting you to kick out your legs in building release, and her hips roughly buck against your face, her cunt quivering against your touch.

Hissing loudly, you nearly scream at the way her fingers pinch your nipples. And she cries at the way your tongue laps at her juices as if you were a starved woman. And she came harshly, entirely on your face. You didn’t even recognize the sensation of the two cocks suddenly exiting your body, only that they were done.

 Your gasping concentration was broken when Fuyumi abandoned you from above, and you pushed off the bed with heavy arms, only to meet Natsuo’s chest — it seemed he tossed Touya from the bed. He rolled you over so that he was beneath you, chests pressed against each other, his length carded between your ass, grinding against your wet slit. Your essence mixed with his pre-cum that quickly soaked his cock, and you looked down to see Natsuo ease you up and onto his length into your pussy with one deep thrust. 

“I didn’t get to tell you this, but you’re so fucking tight,” Natsuo’s voice was gruff and victorious when he began to move inside you. Touya’s voice growled loudly in these deceitful actions, his body scrambling behind you while you took in Natsuo’s impressive length again. Fuyumi rolled in front of you, her ass shaking in the air, and she winked at you.

“Eat my ass?”

And for your nee-chan, you did.

Touya sinks behind you, Natsuo’s victorious position is unable to be challenged while continues to rut into you from below, his thrusts slow and deep. But Touya spreads your ass cheeks apart, your abused, pert puckered hole prematurely clenching at the knowledge of what’s to come. You could tell from the heat on his fingers what his intentions were, and you moaned deeply into Fuyumi’s wet asshole at the teasing sensation of Touya’s fingers against your awaiting hole.

Fuyumi keens. “Yes, just like that,” she moans, her hands moving to her breasts, deliberately touching herself while your tongue flicked and fucked her ass. 

Your half-lidded eyes gazed up at Shouto, who had a vein throbbing angrily on his temple, his skin flushed, his pants still angrily tented. You had half a thought to remove your mouth from Fuyumi’s sweet core, to flash a teasing smile from your position that you knew he wanted in on, but you were cut off well before you could consider pulling away. Touya’s spit hits your ass, the cold, thick liquid sending indescribable sensations through your spine, and just as quickly, his cock sank into your tight, pretty ass and began a fast, savage pace inside you. 

Natsuo hadn’t bothered to stop his thrusts. Making it more challenging for Touya to penetrate you, and the searing pain of your holes being fucked by two different cocks simultaneously had your face-planting further into Fuyumi’s ass. Natsuo’s own fingers slithered down between your pressing hips to rub rapid circles around your clit to try and help you forget the pain of your tight hole being invaded. 

Both men bottomed inside you, both of them still continue to fuck you, unable to show a moment of hesitation now that they were face to face.

You sobbed at the feeling as Touya's steel ball piercings pushed against the sensitive and tight walls of your ass. Both of their grips on your waist and hips, pushing you and pulling you against their throbbing cocks. Your head turns away from Fuyumi’s rimmed asshole to find where Enji and Rei were. The family's matriarch quickly and if not expertly sucking her husband's cock with the skill and demeanor of teaching you and her family.

“Watch, children,” Enji commanded, but his voice was weak, obviously too lost on the feeling of Rei’s tight, hot mouth to really care what his sons were up to.

“Nobody wants to see that shit, geezer,” Touya snapped out as he grinned at the way Natuso’s cock rubbed against him as both males for a moment matched in pace. 

“Shit,” you cried into Fuyumi’s cunt, your fingers trying to fuck her wet cunt and ass, her praising words falling on your deaf ears. This felt like nothing you had ever felt before, pleasure coursed through your whole body as you felt the tight coil inside you desperately close to snapping. Natsuo’s fingers continued to rub messy circles on your clit as your breasts bounced at Touya’s rough, deliberate thrusting. 

“Don’t stop!” Fuyumi snaps, her hand reaching behind her, grabbing you by the roots of your hair, pushing you back against her clenching asshole. Your nose burying into her crack, your tongue prodding against her throbbing walls. She emitted a low, pleasurable whine at that, her hips snapping vigorously against your face.

“I’m needa… holy shit, I needa cum.” you whined against Fuyumi’s core, your fingers weakly curling within her, the pleasure was overwhelming as you felt yourself teetering closer to your bliss.

 “Cum, princess, cum for daddy.” Natuso bit against your collarbone as he continued his rough pace inside of you, his allowing words the impetus for your release as you came with a cry. Your body clenching and tensing around both men as you ride out your orgasm, your fingers shaking within Fuyumi’s core, your entire body spasming.

“I’m almost there, keep doing that with your mouth, and I’ll get there. You can do this, y/n, I know you’re good with that mouth of yours. Eat my fucking ass out, I know you can do better,” Fuyumi’s appreciate chanting while your tongue dripped with your saliva and her essence. She made your cunt clench against Natsuo, a sharp whine on your voice, vibrating all the way to her core, her sweet voice inciting liquid fire and lip biting motions from you.

Natsuo’s breathing stammered against your sweating chest, his eyes clenching shut while he hammered even faster into you. Your body bouncing with new power as he thrust sloppy and sloppier, “Gonna breed you, gonna fill you up with my sperm, princess.”

And with that promise, your eyes crossing with undenied pleasure as he still continued to thrust up into you despite his promise. 

“Boys, you’re a-already done?!” Enji barked, his fingers fisted into Rei’s hair, his hips snapping up into her mouth while she took him in with ease and grace you only dreamed you could have. There was a gagged giggle from Rei, who pressed further against Enji’s cock, her nose burying against the soft pubes on his pelvis, and Enji’s attention quickly stolen away.

They, however, were not done quite yet. He pushed your body down at more of an angle so he could continue his harsh thrusts inside you. Pressing you further into Fuyumi’s dripping cunt so that her essence was smeared all over your face so that your tongue could reach even further into her clenching cunt while your eyes roll back. 

“You fucking liked that, didn’t you, slut? Bet you wished you could see just how you’re affecting this family. Bet you want us all to fill you up like the dirty cumslut you are. The breeding whore that you are. But I’m the only one you actually want cumming in you, right?” Touya continues to roughly pound inside you, a hand coming down to tear into your ass as you feel your body shake at the feeling of another orgasm, legs trembling as your body convulses. 

“Yes, just like that!” Fuyumi cried, enjoying the way your fingers ran against her spongy walls, and she clenched around both your tongue and fingers. You can feel her body convulse as she cums, and you moan as her taste floods your senses, overpowering even Touya, who thrusts into you three more times, sending hot cum inside your ass with a grunt. 

Saliva and slick dribbling down your chin while Fuyumi collapses before you. 

You moan pathetically when you feel the hot, thick cum of Natsuo spilling inside your womb, and all siblings are out for the count, cocks still buried in you, but no longer fucking you.

“I think you still that shit geezers cum in you,” Touya observed, landing another harsh smack on your behind. The motion made you lurch forward. Your mouth never felt so lonely. 

“Please, please,” you babbled while trying to persuade the brothers to continue to fuck your holes mercilessly, your words muffling with your wanton cries and pleas. He grunted at the sensation, his cock twitching inside your cunt as you knew he was reaching his end once again. 

“Please, what?” Natsuo snapped, his hips unable to keep from thrusting so powerfully upwards, you nearly tumbled forward. 

“Say it louder!” Fuyumi gleefully sang, her fingers digging into her cunt, her hips thrusting up to pleasure herself. Her foot moving upward to press against your chin in a power move that made you bite down with intense vigor on your lower lip.

“Please put your cum in my mouth, otou-san!” you desperately screamed.

But there was a growl that came from Enji, and your eyes watched the way that Rei’s mouth expertly took in her husband's cock with no still, no hesitation, or an ounce of pain. Your vision was crossing and blurring in pleasure at the light but synchronized thrusting of both Natsuo and Touya. You shivered, watching Rei commanded herself against his length, and with a powerful and loud grunt, Enji came into Rei’s mouth. A wanton moan left your lips at the sight of Rei pulling away from him, a trail of saliva and cum keeping his cock tied to her mouth, but even you could tell she didn’t swallow.

Your heart hammered in your chest when she rose up to her full height, her grey eyes meeting yours immediately, and she strode over. Every step is slow, powerful, and commanding.

She smiled sweetly, something you hoped meant that you were doing well in this entire situation, and as if to ease your doubts and worries, her lips pressed against yours. You could say that it was a kiss, but the way that she climbs onto the bed, ignoring her masturbating daughter, allowing your head to stretch backward, you know that it isn’t. 

Milky white and thick substance dribble past her lips and into your mouth. It’s a messy exchange, sloppy at best, but your mouth opens, a blind and degrading attempt to get every single drop of Enji’s cum to pour into your mouth. You swallow it all, gasping when Rei pulls away, her fingers stroking your cheeks with fondness and joy, “Good girl!”

You were done.

Your chest heaves at the sight of Shouto’s siblings and father leave your bed one by one, your body deflating when the cocks leave you, but somehow Touya is the last one to leave. His mouth presses into your ear before he goes, his fingers hidden by his figure twist at your nipple, your mouth whining softly. “Make sure you give Shouto a hard time, don’t give in.” 

Your eyes lock with Natsuo, who nods in agreement, and you realize that this was something they had wanted too. 

The worst part is that you want to see it happen. What would happen if you push Shouto past all his boundaries after all of this. And with that, he shoves you onto the bed. You feel like the world is spinning as you lie there. The realization of everything that’s happened to you within the past however long, the incessant need for more. You wanted more of this, you wanted Shouto more than anything too, but in this mental slip, you knew that you were going to make Shouto work for you. These alphas commanded it, after all. 

You laid silently on the mattress. Your body used to the maximum, the feeling of cum still seeping from your throbbing cunt that felt like it could cum no more today. But more importantly, was the clanking of metal hitting the floor, proud chuckles sounding in the air that makes you keen for the sound against your ear, and the sound of a storm approaching hits your ears. 

Oh yes, you were so beautifully fucked, and yet, you were so, so ready for it.

.

..

.

Shouto had never, ever felt this way before. 

White-hot fury and jealousy corroded his veins, yet there was unmistakable pride as he watched your used, cumstuffed body lay on the bed. He’s unsure if the lips that press to his cheek are his mother or his sister, unsure if they whisper something against his sweating, hot skin. He watches his father remove the restraints from him, steam curling out of the quirk cancelers as they dropped heavily to the floor. 

He hated this initiation; he hated having to share you. He didn’t want you anywhere near his family anymore, not with how you were able to keep up with their monstrous personalities in bed. 

Shouto was the baby of the family, but he was the best — the perfect creation of them all — and he was going to prove it. With his body finally free, and his family taking their seats, his siblings' grins searing into his back, he stalked over to the bed where you lay. You reeked of sex and his family’s cum, and his eyes narrowed at the way your eyes were closed in your exhaustion.

Ten minutes his ass, he was going to fuck you until he saw fit. 

You were his, after all.

Delirium filled your body while you stared up at your lover. 

Eyes wide in hunger, desire, and an unquenchable need that you had no idea existed within you. His wrists were bright red, the apparent struggle from being contained in his chair almost too obvious. His fingers rolled against his tender flesh, but you turned your focus over to the panting Todorokis’. They were all sitting in their chairs, sweat lining their brows, clothes barely on, and staring at you like you were the best sacrificial whore. You were the best, you wistfully sigh, your giggles escaping your mouth despite Shouto climbing onto the cum-stained bed with you.

The bed was loud in your ears, but the throbbing need and your weakened body still managed to wiggle away from Shouto despite it being his turn.

He hadn’t broken free from the restraints, you thought, pouting when his steel-like grip fastened onto your ankle and yanking you back towards him. Whining softly, the barely healed welts from Touya’s burning fingers on your ass dragged against the bed, and you looked up at Shouto with a pout on your face. Weren’t you enough for him to destroy the restraints that bound him?

You struggle against his hold, almost forgetting that it was Shouto on the bed when Touya and Natsuo chuckle. But something happens.

For the first time since you had entered this room, a pair of hot lips slam against yours—deadly, hot, and burning with passion, lust, and possession. Delicious and voluptuous moans escape your lips, your hands pressing flat against his bareback. His white t-shirt was tight on his body from his sweat, and his muscles pressed roughly against your body. You whimpered in your desire, trying to keep up with the way that he was devouring you with his mouth.

His tongue pushed into your mouth, sweeping across your tongue in the way that you liked it, the way that always made your back arch, and your breath hitched. Your moans are swallowed by his mouth, and his fingers dig their way further and further into your bruised hips. You try to pull apart from his lips, but when you pull away, Shouto is on you again, his lips glued to yours, his jean clothed bulge grinding into your raw, exposed cunt. 

You cry out loudly, your fingers digging into his back, your body arching into his because fuck was he already giving life to your cunt that you thought had died out several sessions ago. But it was rough, it was uncomfortable. 

“S-Shouto, your jeans!” you squeak into his mouth, your nails tearing through his shirt. “It hurts!”

“You can take it,” Shouto persisted, his mouth leaving yours and moving to your ear all while the fabric above the zipper now rubbing up against your clit in a way that made you pant harder against his mouth. But his next words are venomous; they’re dripped and soaked with unrestrained, raw jealousy that sends a powerful shiver down your spine when he whispers it in your ear. “Take it like you took all their fucking cum, you fucking whore. I know you probably enjoyed it — having them cum in your cunt? I can taste that stupid bitch and asshole in your filthy fucking mouth, how disgusting is that?”

“I didn’t h-have a choice!” you cry, his fingers expertly rolling against your clit, making your hips manically buck against his clothed hard cock, the building pressure in your core blazing higher and higher with his every stroke and move. “I had to get them to cum!”

“And when they told you to tell me who you belonged to? You really think that was a part of getting them to cum?” Shouto snarled, his teeth biting roughly into your skin that made you sing in pleasure-filled pain. His hips stop rutting into you, but you could hardly notice with your own desperate, wild thrusting. A wet spot drenched the crotch of his jeans, and you’re positive it’s all from you. “Tell me who the fuck do you belong to?”

“The Todorokis’!” you sob, and Shouto sneers.

His hands place themselves powerfully on your throat and your waist, shoving you away from him.

You cry in desperation, the orgasm that was seconds from exploding taken from you within a blink of an eye. Your head bouncing off the mattress while Shouto glowers over you, his eyes never this angry, and his lips pulled back into a snarl.

“So you think you’re the community whore?” he quietly rages, and you feel disgusted in the fact that his anger sends lustful shivers down your spine. “Guess I’ll have to fucking retrain you—” his lips pressed against your ear, his hot puff of airs spreading goosebumps wherever he touched— “You’re mine, only mine.”

“I’m going to make you taste like me again, gonna make every inch of you they ruined erased with my touch,” Shouto announced to you, his body still working around the bed, taking in everything he needed to make this just right.

Your eyes twitched while you watched him undress, the t-shirt flung towards his sitting family, his jeans dropped to the floor. You managed in heated anticipation as the cock you were ever so familiar with sprung free when he took off his underwear. Like a trained bitch, your cunt clenched and your mouth water while you watched the swollen, angry head bounced against his lower abdomen. He wasn’t the girth of Enji, the size of Natsuo or the monster that was Fuyumi’s strap, but still staring at the entirely long and thick cock made your mouth water, your eyes fluttering in need. 

“Are you going to fuck my mouth?” you begged in delicious need. “Please fuck my mouth, Shouto!”

“I did say I take all of them away, didn’t I?” Shouto narrowed his eyes as he stared at you. His hand reached to the box, a thin layer of ice overcoming the entire machine before he came up. “To kill their cum in your belly. Like fuck they’re breeding you.”

Your eyes blinked rapidly; the thought of ice-penetrating your readying cunt reminded you of the few times you’ve tried this before. “W-Wait but that really—”

“Still haven’t learned after all this time?” he sighs, shaking his head. “That’s okay, you’ve always been a stubborn bitch.”

Your eyes widen in horny horror; he was allowed to do anything he wanted to you. Your shoulders strained, and you attempted to relax in the tied position, but Shouto was having none of that.

Grabbing you by the back of your neck, Shouto thrust you forward. Your parted and bruised lips were near the swell of his balls, the base of his cock. 

“Right there,” Shouto approved when your tongue took a slow and dreadfully long swipe at his throbbing cock. “You belong to me, and will only carry my children. I’m not putting my cock in your cunt when it’s full of their cum,” he says with a coy smile, his feet thrusting your knees further apart, dropping your needy cunt onto the iced dildo without so much as a sigh. 

Your back curled with the foreign bitter and icy dildo that seemed to melt within your blazing walls. You screamed his name, your body twisting at the cold intrusion, your body feels so wrong, yet the thrill and shivers that pulsating from your core made you moan like a bitch in heat. If it wasn’t for Shouto’s hold on you, you knew that you would have collapsed onto the mattress, but his grip was firm, and his eyes glinting in approval.

“Now,” he affirms, the smirk on his lips heard a mile away as he turns on the machine. Immediately the fuck machine blows into your tight and slippery cunt, your eyes rolling backward at the mere sensation of the speed it was at. A loud mewl leaves your throat, the icy cock pushing further into your slippery core. His fingers snuck behind your head, gathering your hair, and a sob croaked through your voice as your body finally relaxed against the cold fucking. “Continue.”

With your head tilted backward, Shouto yanked his hand up, your head snapping down with a pained yelp, and with his other hand, he guided his cock down, sliding into your long-abused throat. But ever so eager, so apt to get his family to know they had no right over you, Shouto wastes no time starting his conquest.

You try to keep up with the momentum of the toy and his viciously thrusting hips, your hips grinding down against the toy despite its insane speed. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, and you gag against his cock. Shouto chuckles, his hands keeping steady on your hair, keeping your bobbing head at a pace he enjoyed. Your lips remained wide, your eyes blinking rapidly at the feeling of his hot flesh pressing dangerously against your tongue. He moves to knead your breasts, the bites, and bruises littering your chest, something he sneers at, something he jabs his fingers onto. You cry against his cock, the vibrations from your resulting actions making him moan low and tight.

“Look at you, so desperate,” Shouto snaps, his fingers tweaking your nipples, pulling your lower lip down, so saliva poured without the ability to be stopped. “So fucking needy.”

The words ignite a fire within you, and your legs tremble in unspoken glee as cum and water drip from your cunt. You wanted him to fuck you until you were nothing less than a mess. You needed him to give you his cock instead of this stupid fucking machine. You wanted nothing more than for him to claim you in front of his family to show that you were more than capable of joining their ranks. You wanted him to be yours and forever yours.

You wanted Shouto, you needed him.

Your deep moan of epiphany took Shouto by surprise. Shouto peering down on you with bemused eyes, the rolling of your hips against the machine that was making it angle into you differently, and your stomach bulged with every slam of the defrosting dildo. Your tongue pressed up against his swollen head, pressing flat against the leaking tip. Shouto’s thighs clench in his suppressed pleasure when your mouth sucks against the head of his cock, your teeth teasingly running against the underside of his cock, against his vein.

“I guess it doesn’t take long for you to remember whose whore you are,” Shouto grins, his hips moving more unrestrained into your mouth.

Making a pleasant sound, you hollow your cheeks out and taste the saltiness of his pre-cum that soaked onto your tongue. Delighting at the harsh curse, you guided him further in, your throat relaxing with every inch you take, and tightening with every slam of the dildo. It was swinging highs, your throat clenching when you relaxed your cunt. It was a game, and it was one that Shouto was fond of.

He’s pulling on your hair hard enough to hurt, enough so that you can choke against him, the angle and the position on your back already increasing the likelihood of that happening.

Shouto’s grip on your hair tightens, and he smirks when he realizes that you’re keeping up impeccably. His dance turns aggressive and contentious; it’s too much for you to keep up with, the echoing wet gags emitting from your voice a beautiful reminder of you being a fuck toy to him. He steers his cock further down your throat. You don’t bother to hide how satisfied you are by his action as you relax your throat and hollow your cheeks.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his hips bucking forward, he can’t stop himself from craving more. You don’t mind; you open wider to take more of him in, and his cock thrusts further down your throat. He’s now panting, in his desperation, judging from the strangled sound he makes as you take him even deeper. “Just like that, angel.”

There it was, you brightened at the nickname you were so used to hearing from him. Just as quickly as you caved back to him, he was back to you in full steam, he was yours, you were his. He was doing this for you, despite everything that would happen to the two of you after this night was done. He loved you, and every maddening, savage thrust of his hips only proved that.

The raw, primal, and wet noises of his cock entering and leaving your throat are bordering deranged, added onto that is the dildo penetrating your sopping cunt again. The pressure is back, and it’s settled deep in your lower belly, and you want to cum more.

Your choking noises music to both your ears; he doesn’t let up, only snapping his hips faster, harder, rougher. Your eyes begin to roll backward at the force, his balls slapping you in the chin with every slam of energy.

But you love the sensation of the raw and primitive fucking he was giving you, and you felt your hips thrusting forward, the ice keeping the block in place cracking under your powerful twist, your walls clamping against the insanely moving dildo. Yet, when you shift lower onto the dildo, trying to get the slowly heating dildo to kiss your cervix, his hands locked behind your head, and you cry around his cock, saliva dripping from your lips and your chin, falling on your chest and his thighs.

“That’s right, take my fucking cock, just like that,” he snarls, taking giant thrusts until his cock is completely buried in your throat, your nose pressed into his balls. Your tongue still desperately revolves around the veins on his cock while you choke against his pounding force. You choke against him, the noise music to his ears, while your legs spasm as your orgasm is drawing nearer and nearer.

“Angel,” he manages to get out through gritted teeth, his face immediately recognizing the tremor in your body, the crossing of your eyes. “Fuck, y/n. You’re not gonna cum just… just—” he cuts himself off with another groan as the tip of his cock hits so far down your throat you feel your neck bulge, and his foot kicks the box away, ripping the no longer iced dildo from your cunt, stopping yet another high from crashing into you.

There’s a brief moment of panic as you struggle to breathe, the sudden dismissal of the dildo catching you equally off guard. The force is a bit more than you expected, but you relax, trying to get yourself to calm back down. But then you inhale through your nose and force your throat to rest until you can take him all in, the oxygen burning as it makes its way past his cock in your throat. Not long after that, Shouto lets out a long, loud groan when his seed shoots down your throat.

It explodes in your throat, and to your horror, you find yourself struggling to take the sheer force of his load and the fact that he just seemed to keep unloading within you. Uncontrollable panicked coughing and choking rattle your throat while Shouto is still balls deep in you. The second he removes his cock from your throat, you collapse awkwardly onto the bed, your core throbbing from your denied orgasm, and your airway burning as cum drips past your lips.

You continue hacking, the bitter taste of cum scorching your throat, and you continue to let his cum run down your chin, dripping onto the cum soaked mattress. It burned and hurt to breathe. Turning your head towards Shouto, who turned off the fucking machine, his eyes were locked on you already, a condescending smirk on his face while he ran a hand through his hair.

Whatever he had used to hold your wrists and ankles in place were burned off the moment he got back on top of you, his hands pressing onto the mattress by your head the moment you managed to relax. Your eyes were hazy in lust and love while his eyes pierced through you heavenly. The smile that spread on his lips made you sight softly, his lips once again pressing against yours.

You pushed back against his mouth, allowing his tongue to roll deeply, languidly in your mouth. His lips were gliding effortlessly on yours. Quiet yet commanding while he slapped your cunt with his once again hard cock. 

“Shouto, I wanna cum,” you plead against his lips, your hands grasping onto his shoulders while you roll against his hard cock. “Please let me cum.”

“Don’t you think you’ve cum enough, angel?” he asks, his mouth trying to drown out every sound you made. “I finally made you taste like me.”

You stagger out a groan, your body trembling in desperate, uncontrollable need, “And I taste so good now! Please let me cum!””

Your begs do nothing to get Shouto to slam his cock in your cunt, but his teeth sink against old bites, igniting your skin, making you whimper under his touch. “Beg more,” he snaps, his fingers moving to grip your waist, his mouth hovering above yours, smiling when you follow after him like a trained bitch. “Tell me why you deserve my cock in your cunt.”

“I only want your cock,” you mewl, your arms wrapping against his neck, slamming his lips back onto your mouth. Your legs wrap around his waist, your hips grinding into his cock to reinforce your point. “I want your cum in me, I want my pussy to taste like you again! I want to feel your cock kissing my cervix, please Shouto, give me your cock.”

“You really are a mindless whore, aren’t you, angel?” Shouto laughs while he moves up, and to the credit of his strength, quickly lifts you well, his fingers burying into your soft, sore ass. “What do I have to do to get you to fucking fight back with me now? Are you really that desperate for my cock that you’re not even going to be the brat that I know you are?”

However, there is no time to argue the glee in Shouto is too grand to even consider making you bite back. He tosses you back onto the mattress, grabbing your legs and dragging you closer to him, your sensitive ass burning against the cum soaked bed until you are before him. Your pained breaths still as Shouto smirks down at you, his hand picking you up by your waist and flipping you over so that you are on your stomach.

Your gaze meets the other Todoroki’s who look at you with prideful, adoring looks. But before you could relish the feeling of their accepting eyes, Shouto has his chest pressed against your ass, his cold and hot skin burning into your ass, and his right hand angling his once again hard cock upwards to your cunt.

“Shouto…” you whimper, his teeth branding your skin. “Why didn’t you brand me properly.”

“It’s no fun fucking you if you pass out,” Shouto claims, placing a pillow underneath your head, and your heart swells at his actions. 

“Breed me then,” you pout, your eyes looking up at your lover as if gazing upon a god. Sweat trailed down his body. Your slick somehow all over his body, and yet he looked down at you with a smirk. You wanted his nine-inch cock finally pressed inside you, drilling into you until you lost sight of what was wrong or right.

“You want me to breed you?” he asks, his hands trailing to the underside of your thighs, slowly, teasingly lifting them up in a press he knew you enjoyed most. “Do you deserve to be bred?”

Your head nods, your teeth tearing into your lower lip when you grab his cock. You rut it between your folds letting new and old essence slick his cock up again, your eyes fluttering while your face heats up at the sight of his powerful, heavy eyes refusing to break contact with you. “I want you to fill me up, daddy. I want my belly bulging with you cum, I want you to cum in me, fill me till I ooze.”

There was a ragged breath that exhaled from Shouto’s lips while you aligned his cock right back up into your drumming cunt, his eyes blazing into yours with both fire and ice, and he said exactly what you want him to say. “I’ll make sure to fill you until you’re dripping with my cum for an entire week,” Shouto promises, and his hips slam within you.

There is something about having the wind knocked out of you when put into a mating press by Shouto that never fails to have you act up. Your knees are buried within the mattress by your head, legs dangling over his shoulders, your toes curling and pressing against each other, while longing, loud cries of lust power through your throat. Shouto lays on top of you, the penetration deep, and his hands gripping your hands. The weight of having him on you is exhilarating, and once again, his lips press hungrily against yours while balls deep within you.

His cock slams against the wall of your cervix repetitively while his lips overwhelm you. Each blow into you is massive and powerful, every stroke of your entangling tongues sends shivers down your spine. It’s powerful, ardent enough to have you sobbing in glee into his mouth while he kisses you, his hands clutching your smaller ones in his.

Again and again, he slams into you. His thrusts knock the wind out of you until you release his hands and find yourself digging your fingers into his back, pulling him impossibly closer so you could feel his heartbeat against your chest. You cry out his name desperately while his teeth find a home on your neck, sinking into flesh he had broken not so long ago. The powerful pounding of his cock makes you ebulliently cry, your hips jerking up to meet his, but you’re useless against his heavy downward thrusts.

“Impregnate me, baby,” you babble, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, “breed me, breed me, breed me!”

“You’ll be full of my fucking kids in no time, your cute belly will be round with our kids,” he rumbles, his cock throbbing and twitching within your pussy, and loud wet echoing slaps fill the room. Your nails claw at his back, cutting into his flesh in multiple places with clean four red lines.

You couldn’t take the feeling of how his body moved perfectly within you. The raw strength and power behind his every move were almost too natural as if this was an everyday thing. He was the one made for you, you knew that with every barbarous thrust, every perfect cry that was swallowed by his mouth when he came back to kiss you. His lips are intoxicating as they are swollen and bruised. You let out noises reasonably similar to a purr, grinding your cunt, raising your hips against his dominating cock, and laughing breathlessly at his low groan.

“You like this, angel?” Shouto sucks on your tongue despite the glimpse of humor in his eyes, his thrusts making you shriek out his name as he buries you further into the bed, your nails scarring into his flesh. “You like the way my cock fills your pussy? You like the way that despite all the cocks you just had, mine is still your favorite?” You nod rapidly, your eyes closed, your mouth open, the saliva string between the two of you breaking, and your pants tumbling from your mouth. 

Your sanity was lying on a string, his cock, and body the reasons for your downfall.

The muscles on his back seemed to flare dramatically, your screams became silent, your voice giving out as your eyes crossed, your tongue falling out of your mouth in a physical reaction to your pleasure.

“You look so cute like this. Look at how your belly fucking bulges when I fuck into you,” he growls into your ear, his hips unequally slamming into you. You shook, eyes barely able to look at your stomach that expands with every thrust, and you moan in fervor.

“I need you to breed me,” you strangle out, the fire in your face as bright and hot as the one between your legs. His sweaty forehead pressed against yours, and his lips recapture yours.

Your mind goes blank when a mighty crash goes through you. But Shouto must not have felt the familiar spastic clamping of your inner walls as he continues pistoning his hips into you, hitting your cervix, and pushing it further up with every slam. You cry against his mouth, your hands shoving at his shoulders as the feeling of your orgasm is too strong to deny, and he slips out of you.

You squirt wildly, your juices going everywhere, his cock viciously slamming side to side against your folds, wetting his groin area, and splashing against the bed.

“Fuck, you’re mine. You’re beautiful, and you’re forever mine,” he promises, and once again slams into you.

Your scream is silent, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your fingers digging into his neck, and your toes curl. His hips are driving, persistent, and have a goal in mind. You can barely keep up with him, your long overstimulated body wanting to collapse, but he doesn’t stop.

The bed creaks loudly under you, his hand shooting out to the headboard, the reinforced back thundering where he made contact, but he continues to drill into you over and over again.

“Cum, alpha,” you beg, your hips wildly thrashing against his. “Please, overfill me with your cum!”

“Who do you fucking belong to?!” he snarled once more, and you convulsed, white-hot pleasure shooting through you as your mouth, heavy by his ear, whispers a simple phrase.

“Yours and only yours.”

That’s all it takes, and a hot and heavy load shoots through you, and Shouto’s hips jut into you a few more sloppily, wildly inconsistent times until he too collapses onto you. Neither one of you reacts as his family claps, but your mind and cunt is full of Shouto to care — your nose burying appreciatively into his neck. His body twitching while his cock remains hard within you, the feeling of his cum swimming in your cunt, making your head spin with euphoria.

Drowsiness hits you quickly, and Shouto’s immense body heat is quickly putting you to sleep.

He doesn’t pull out of you yet, and the feeling of his cock growing soft in you makes you whimper, and he flips the two of you over so that you’re laying on his chest. His hands send warm and cooling waves through your body, helping soothe the aches in your tired body.

It takes a bit longer for you to allow him to climb off you; you wanted to have him pressed against you still, to be in this space with him and only him. But before Shouto can leave the bed to gather what he needs to clean the both of you up, a small pleased sigh comes from the seating area. Your eyes focused on the family who all watched you two with accepting, loving looks, and you try to calm Shouto, who stares aggressively at his family as if they had never seen you naked. However, Rei was the one to walk over to your sweaty sex smelling bodies and hugging you both tightly.

“You did so well, y/n!” Rei whispered against your ear, her hands holding both yours and Shouto’s when she pulls away, the kind motherly look in her eyes despite it all. “You deserve the Todoroki last name! I can’t wait to see what becomes of you two! Welcome to the family, Todoroki y/n!” 

Despite the intensity of the past hour, it’s this that makes your face burn, your stomach dancing with butterflies at the slip of her tongue.

“Maybe we can have some more fun later?” Touya raunchily grins while they file out of the door, his laughter like a bell in the wind when they do leave. 

You sigh softly, your head shaking. Your head looks down at Shouto, who’s looking down at his hands, his possessive expression gone, replaced by sincerity and ethereality. “What’s that?” you hoarsely whisper, your fingers grazing his wrists, your eyes widening when you saw a ring sitting in the palm of his hand. “That’s a beautiful ring…”

Shouto nods a hum on his lips in his agreement. He pauses, eyes dragging to your face, and the softest smile overcomes his face.

“Y/l/n y/n, would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

You smile, a giggle erupting in your lungs, the pain of your body ignored as you crawl to him, your hand pressing onto his cheeks, your head nodding.

“Yes.”

“Welcome to the family... Todoroki y/n.”

[moonctzeny]

Baby

au+trope+prompt game: college!au Jaehyun + fake dating + it’s just so hard not to fall in love with you

pairing: jung jaehyun x fem!reader x asshole!yuta

other members as background characters: yuta, mark, johnny, jungwoo

genre: angst, smut

word count: 9,124

warnings: abusive relationship, toxic behaviour

summary: “When Yuta breaks your heart for the millionth time, you meet Jaehyun, freshly broken up and looking for revenge. You decide to start fake dating to get back on your exes, but your plan takes an unexpected turn. You fall in love.”

a/n: I really don’t like putting yuta in a negative light like that it’s just for the fic’s sake! also I literally used the name Naeun as Jaehyun’s ex because I think it’s SUCH a pretty name, NO correlation whatsoever to any korean celebrity named naeun!

_____________________________________

You knew it was wrong.

Looking through your boyfriend’s, Yuta’s, phone while he took a shower, was the arguably the tackiest thing you have ever done.

He was always distant lately, only seeming to make time for a booty call, and at first, you blamed your hectic schedule. Your major was demanding, to say the least, so when Yuta suggested that you replace your dates with some “quality time” at his dorm, you had no objections. You didn’t know that he also meant ignoring your calls, canceling on you at the last minute to meet up with his frat brothers, and keeping your relationship strictly between four walls and two naked bodies.

The thought of him meaning more to you than you meant for him ate you away. It creeped in your mind while you heard the water running from your shower, and lead your fingertips to tap in the password of his phone.

Opening his messaging app, you recognize his best friends’ icons in a group chat consisting of his frat members. You scrolled up, ignoring the latest massages regarding a party that the frat would be throwing in two weeks. You started to feel guilty, not exactly sure what you were looking for, when you saw your name at the screen.

m0rklee[00:10]: @yutassanhyung, i saw your girl today at the supermarket! why didn’t you tell her about the party next Sunday?

you[00:12]: what girl lol  

m0rklee[00:13]: y/n?? i thought you guys were together?

you[00:12]: nahh

fairyteil[00:15]: eyy @yutassan if you’re done with her i know a couple guys who wanna hit it too

you[00:16]: be my guest haha

you[00:16]: don’t get me wrong she was bad when we met but shit is getting kinda stale

tenoutoften[00:17]: aren’t you on your way to her place lol

you[00:17]: hey hey pussy is pussy

Was that all you were to him? Pussy?

Yuta called you special, he called you yours. He didn’t like it when you were talking to other guys. He ripped your lingerie set because he didn’t want anyone else to ever see you in it but him. And then he dared to go around and call you a fling?

You heard the water stop running and knew you didn’t have much time until you had to face him, the thought alone making you sick.

You didn’t bother to lock his phone again, leaving the chat that made you so upset open. Grabbing your keys and a jacket, you left your place and hoped that Yuta would get the message and get the fuck out of there before you came back.

Your legs walked on their own accord, your memory leading you to the only place where you knew you’d find any sort of comfort. When Johnny opened his door, tears were already streaming down your face. He took the open tequila bottle you were holding and pulled you in for a hug. He smelled like weed and beer, and after hearing the “Is that the pizzas?”, you realized that your best friend wasn’t alone.

You quickly wiped your cheeks and fixed your sex hair that Yuta messed up, trying your best to look presentable. Johnny put a hand on your back and lead you to his living room. Jungwoo, your and Johnny’s friend from high school, was sprawled out on the couch, a little disappointed after seeing that you were, in fact, not the pizzas. Next to him, drowning in a bean bag, was Jaehyun. You didn’t really know him very well other than the fact that he took the same major as Johnny, so you felt a little insecure looking as messy as you did right now. His eyes were red, just like the other men’s, but you could swear his eyelashes looked a little damp.

Jungwoo’s words were muffled by the barbecue chips he was munching away.

“Yoo y/n, I didn’t know you were coming!”

You placed the tequila bottle on the table,

“Yeah, Woo, figured you wanted something to drink”

“Move” Johnny murmured to him, but he only stretched and sighed dramatically, shoving a handful of chips in his mouth.

“I don’t need a drink I need food. I’m hungry and I got the munchies”

Johnny grabbed his ankle and with impressive ease, dragged Jungwoo to the floor. The taller man sat on the couch, on the side next to Jaehyun and you followed his lead, letting a grumpy Jungwoo lean his head on your knees. Taking the lit joint from Jaehyun’s fingers, Johnny turned his attention back on you.

“So tell me chica” he said and took a hit, “who do I have to beat up?”

“Yuta”, you grumbled, “I’m ghosting this motherfucker”

You felt the vibrations on your lap when Jungwoo started talking.

“What did he do this time? Didn’t I tell you not to get involved with stupid frat boys?”

You started petting his hair, the softness comforting under your fingers.

“Apparently I’m not ‘bad’ enough for him anymore” you replied, throwing air quotes and rolling your eyes.

“Whaaaaat” Johnny drew out with a cough after taking a particularly deep inhale from the blunt, “you’re like the baddest bitch I know. Even now, that you’re all puffy from crying and smell like his dick”

You hit his shoulder, almost dropping the joint he was passing to Jungwoo, embarrassed that he would say something like that in front of Jaehyun, an almost stranger to you.

“I don’t know, man” Jungwoo started, and you could hear the smile on his face, “when girls cry it’s kinda hot”

You were contemplating how many hairs of his you should rip out of his scalp when the telecom rang, assumably by the pizza delivery man.

“Saved by the bell”, Jungwoo muttered to himself and got up quickly to open the door. While the youngest paid for the pizzas, Johnny held your hand, a bit guilty for his words earlier. He had a mischievous smirk and kept shifting his gaze between you and Jaehyun, who had been sitting in silence ever since you got here, occasionally smiling at your friends’ teasing.

“Fuck Yuta, man. You should find a nice guy to treat you well and fuck you even better y’know?” he started, and patted his buddy roughly on the back, “Like Jae over here”

Your eyes widened and you instinctively glanced at Jaehyun, ears a deep red and a matching shocked look on his face.

You cleared your throat, “No offense, but, like, aren’t you practically married to this girl-uhhh what’s her name again? Naeun?”

To someone who wasn’t listening to your conversation, it must have seemed like you tased him, or brought up a painful childhood memory, or asked him if he’d be willing to lick a lemon after washing his teeth. He looked away from you, and turned his attention to his nails, ripping a cuticle off in deep concentration. His voice was so quiet when he finally spoke, that you barely heard him. “I broke up with her, actually.. Like, three hours ago”

Guilt washed over you in an instant, not knowing that you scratched a wound so fresh. You wanted to apologize and even ask if you should leave the three alone, when Jungwoo grabbed the Tequila bottle and crashed on the couch clumsily between you and Johnny.

“Fuck love!”, he yelled, “let’s get wasted”

_______________________________________

You stared at the empty José Cuervo bottle rising up and down Johnny’s chest with every one of his snores. He was laid out on his couch, his tall height taking up all of its entirety, leaving Jungwoo passed out on the floor. Jaehyun followed your eyes and smiled at Johnny’s sleeping face, mouth open and tongue spilling out.

After the 4th shot, you found out that Jae was a pretty decent guy. He let you rant about Yuta while your friends were busy trying to see who could eat a large pizza by himself the fastest. You told him all about how you never went on dates anymore, how you looked through his phone after having sex, and the text conversation you found earlier tonight. He listened carefully, without judgment, and after smoking some more of Johnny’s staff, he opened up to you about his relationship with Naeun.

Or rather, how he found her fucking his roommate on his own bed.

You always thought of these two as what they call a ‘power couple’. Valedictorian meets basketball all-star, they graduate and have beautiful babies, while all the rest of us mortals can do is admire from afar. You would have never guessed the toxicity, constant cheating and manipulation that Jaehyun was recounting. You bonded over stories about cancelled dates, emotional distancing and feeling like you’re always the one giving but never receiving. If you were being honest, you would have never expected such emotional depth from a college point guard. He drew you in with his gentleness, and you noticed how different he was from Yuta, who engulfed you with his intensity. You also hated how even now, you were still thinking of him.

Just then, you got his third message for the night:

asshole [03:35]:come on baby don’t ignore mee, me and the guys were just messing around

you [03:36]:stop texting me

you [03:38]:we’re done

You locked your phone, upset and angry, and felt Jaehyun sigh.

“I know I’m falling for her stupid games, but I just want to get back at her y’know? Show her what she’s missing, that type of thing”

You knew exactly what he was talking about. During the past hours, you weighted all the possible ways you could make Yuta regret ever taking you for granted.

He was so charming that he could get laid with anyone he wanted (and probably did, even when you were ‘dating’), but even after what he said to Taeil, you knew that he hated the thought of anyone else fucking you. He wanted your body to be his, without having to deal with the commitment that came with that privilege.

You thought about fucking one of his frat buddies, but that would get you from being called ‘Yuta’s girl’ to ‘ΘΨΩ’s cumslut’, and your self esteem couldn’t take that blow.

Jaehyun’s deep voice interrupted your train of thoughts.

“Maybe Johnny’s right”

“Huh? ”

“You should date me”

You blinked at him twice, not knowing what to reply when you saw him wave his hands frantically in front of his face.

“Fake date me! I mean, you should fake date me. Sorry, the weed’s got me a little fucked up”

At first, the idea seemed crazy. Yes, it would make Yuta furious that you were supposedly fucking one of the hottest guys on campus. Yes, Naeun would get mad that she didn’t have Jaehyun’s constant attention that she so craved anymore. Yes, you two might have revealed your deepest insecurities, opened up your hearts to each other all while sharing a bottle of alcohol, but you had never hanged out together without Johnny being present. You had barely hanged out together, period. But wouldn’t that make it even more believable? Two of Johnny’s best friends break up at the same time, meet up at his house and inevitably end up together. You didn’t share the same major, so you wouldn’t have to put up the act too much at college. And with social media, making a fake relationship believable was easier than ever.

asshole [03:42]: fuck you. you think you can find someone better than me?

Drunk and lacking logic, you agreed on the plan, and gave him your number. You had just finished creating the contact on his phone when he suddenly got up and rushed to the bathroom, facing the consequences of the tequila and weed combo.

You passed out on Johnny’s bean bag and when you woke up on Sunday afternoon, Jaehyun was gone.

———————————————————

You didn’t expect him to text you on Monday, thinking that it was intoxication that gave him the idea of fake dating and made it look brilliant. So when he gave you the address to his dorm, to further discuss your ‘operation’ you were surprised, but determined to succeed.

The plan was simple. You would start tagging each other on your instagram stories, to show people that you were spending time alone. He agreed to pick you up from your lecture on Wednesday, your classes coinciding on neighboring buildings. And for you final act, he’d come with you as your plus one for the frat’s party next Sunday. Mark was nice enough to invite you, after Yuta ‘forgot’ to do it instead, and Naeun, being Taeil’s sister, wouldn’t miss it for the world. It was the perfect opportunity to flaunt your new relationship, all while being on the opponent’s part of the field.

You started off innocently enough. After you and Jaehyun finished brainstorming ideas about the ‘operation’ as he insisted on calling it, he suggested you stay for a movie and some Chinese food. His dorm was cozy, a little messy, maybe, but it fitted his boyish charm. He had a nice collection of vinyls, stating that his favorite one was I. by Cigarettes After Sex. You were a bit taken aback by his love for dreampop and rnb, but the more you got to know him, the more it seemed to fit him nicely. On the wall next to his bed hung a display full of all of his sport trophies. He was known for his basketball skills, but you also saw medals for soccer, track, volleyball. Amongst them all was an English certificate and a spelling bee award. You wondered if he ever felt pressure trying to be so perfect all the time.

The movie was terrible, but Jaehyun managed to entertain you by making silly jokes throughout and mocking the actors’ bad acting. It was the first time you ever saw him crack a joke like that and be willing to contort his handsome features. So much better than the dream boy image he was feigning for everyone, but you didn’t know him well enough to tell him. The movie was halfway done when he picked up his phone and opened a camera app through his Instagram.

“Shouldn’t we take a story? Since we’re together anyways?”

You nodded and scooted closer to him. He was a bit hesitant as he positioned the camera to capture your legs that were touching, a scene from the movie playing in the background. It was a cute picture but nothing indicated that the two of you were more than friends. You pressed the X at the top of the screen to discard the picture, and placed his hand on top of your thigh. You turned around just in time to witness his ears turning into a fuschia pink.

“Is that okay?”

He nodded and regained his cool, taking the picture and tagging you with a red heart next to your username.

A couple hours after leaving his place you texted him, asking if Naeun had replied to his story. He said that unfortunately, the only person who batted an eye was Johnny, replying with a “ 👀 👀 👀 “ .

———————————————————

You met up again the next day, at your apartment this time.

He looked nervous being in a place so foreign to him yet so personal to you, so you decided to turn the lights down to help him relax, insisting that you weren’t trying to seduce him or anything. He laughed at your joke but still looked tense, and you thought that maybe he needed some liquid courage to open up.

“Hey Jae. Want a drink?”

It took him 3 beers to finally loosen up and show you his dimpled grin again. You were sitting on the floor, facing each other and feeling comfortable in the ambience of the room. A Spotify playlist was playing in the background so it would fill up the awkward silence but wouldn’t distract you from your conversation.

“Wait wait wait. So you sleep without a pillowcase?”

“Yeah, didn’t you notice it when you came to my place yesterday?”

“I thought you forgot to do your laundry!”

His laugh was resonating and deep and manly. It made his eyes disappear and his face light up, not that it didn’t anyway - the guy could easily be a skin care ambassador, and you made a mental note to ask him about his moisturizer later.

You followed his gaze to one of your walls. Pictures were filling it up, memories of yourself and your siblings, of your friends from home that you missed, of Johnny and Jungwoo. You felt a little insecure then, comparing them to Jaehyun’s countless medals and awards.

“I’m not good at sports like you, so I have nothing else to hang on my wall”, you laughed awkwardly but he shook his head.

“No, I’m actually jealous of you. Everyone always seems to want to be around you”

“Except Yuta”

“Yuta’s an idiot, then. You are way out of his league anyways.”

You felt yourself turning into a blushing mess and looked for a way to break the awkward silence that followed his comment.

“Wanna share another one?” you asked him, shaking the empty beer bottle on your hand and he nodded. You started getting up when you felt him put a hand on your shoulder and pick up the bottles you had finished up from the table himself. He rinsed them off and put them away to the recycling bag next to your sink, the domesticity of the action making you melt. You watched as he stood on his tiptoes to reach a lager from the top drawer of your fridge, revealing a defined set of abs and two cute dimples on his lower back. You ripped your eyes away immediately, like you were caught doing something illegal, and he walked back to his spot next to you. As soon as he sat down, he groaned and threw his head back.

“The bottle opener was on the kitchen counter. I forgot to bring it”

Without saying a word, you took the beer from his hand and placed the cap in your mouth. It was a party trick that your older brother had taught you when you were 15. After finding a stable indentation on your teeth, you manipulate the rough edges of the cap and pop the beer open. You return the glass bottle to Jaehyun, who’s looking at you incredulously.

“Fuck me, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen”, he breaths out and you feel your whole face burning up. You opened and closed your mouth a couple times, trying to register that someone like him thought you were hot, when you felt your phone vibrating, saving you from further embarrassing yourself.

Johnny’s picture lit up on the screen and you mentally prepared yourself for the following conversation. You and Jaehyun decided against telling anyone about your relationship being fake. It’s not that your best friend wasn’t reliable, but if you told Johnny you had to tell Jungwoo, and Jungwoo doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut to save his life.

“John, what’s up”

“Eyy chica what took you so long?”

You looked at Jaehyun who had leaned back against the pillow of your couch and sipped on the beer you would share.

“Yeah sorry I was a little busy”

“Busy.. with Jaehyun?”

You tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, but you were still trying to recover from the previous incident.

“Yeah, he’s here”

“Ohh I see, little y/n can’t get enough of Jae’s slam dunks.. I bet he’s teaching you the bank shot, the opening tip, the double dribble, the fast break, the palming.. he sure is great for a rebound-”

You interrupted him, growing tired of his nonstop basketball innuendos.

“Why did you call me Johnny?”

“Damn, sorry, I just wanted to ask you what you wanted for your birthday”

Shit, you forgot about that.

“Just get me whatever, I don’t care, you know how much I hate celebrating anyways. I’ll get the cake myself, so no surprises”

Jaehyun lifted his brows and waited patiently for your call to end before asking:

“What are we celebrating?”

“It’s my birthday on Friday. I’m going to invite a couple people over and Johnny’s already stressing over it. Don’t worry, though, you don’t have to come”

“How can your boyfriend not come to your birthday party?”

You laugh bitterly.

“Well, it’s not like Yuta came last year. To any of my parties for that matter”

“Well, he must have made up to you somehow? Got you a very special gift or something?”

“If you count eating me out as a gift then yes. It was very rare indeed.”

You took the beer from him and took a sip yourself. You noticed he had his eyes glued on his phone, his expression gloomy.

“Is everything okay?”

He snapped out of it at the sound of your voice and turned his phone screen towards you.

It was Naeun, or rather a post on her instagram account. She had her tongue out in the picture, hugging two guys that were unfamiliar to you. You read the caption.

“One day the loser will realize that the diamond he thinks he’s playing with is actually a rock”

Jaehyun mumbled an apology. I guess he thought that you’d be a bit offended being called a ‘rock’ but you were actually feeling satisfied. Your fake relationship had managed to get her attention, and for Jaehyun’s sake, you wanted to rub it in her face even more.

You opened your camera app and placed your phone on the table next to you. He figured what you wanted to do so he sat up straighter and motioned to his lap. You’d normally be a bit hesitant to sit on him if it wasn’t for the two beers and your determination, that had fired up again due to Naeun’s words. Leaning back a bit, you set up the self-timer and he put his hands on your hips to stabilize you.

You had agreed on turning up the boldness of your pics, so you placed your hands on his neck, right under his jawline. He snaked his hands upwards and wrapped them around your waist, bringing you even closer. His eyes were glossy from the alcohol and he looked at you with an impressive calmness, considering the intimacy of your position. It seemed like he was waiting for something, the ticking of the timer urging you to take things a bit further and he nodded, as if giving you permission. You leaned in, and pressed your lips on the corner of his mouth, like you couldn’t decide on kissing his dimple or his lips.

After hearing the click you climbed down from his lap, and prayed that the photo came out in focus. Your heart couldn’t handle another retake. From the angle of the camera, it seemed like you were a couple in love, sharing a sweet kiss on the lips. You added a cute caption and tagged him, so he could repost it later on his own account.

It hadn’t been 5 minutes before your phone lit up.

yutassan replied to your story: what the fuck?

You smiled triumphantly and showed the message to Jaehyun, who laughed at Yuta’s reaction. He gave you an excuse about some forgotten homework and how it was late and he has to go.

“Remember, I’ll pick you up tomorrow from class, so wait for me”

After he left, you thought about your almost kiss and the dimples of his back for way too long.

——————————————————

You exited the classroom with a growing headache. The lesson today seemed extra boring, and all you could think about was that you had to convince Johnny that it really took just three days for Jaehyun and you to officially start dating.

As promised, the pair waited for you at the end of the hallway, your best friend looking at the two of you expectantly. Jaehyun was a good actor, you thought, as he approached you before you got to reach them, meeting you halfway.

“Hey baby”, he smiled at you, the nickname turning your legs into jelly. He wrapped one arm around your shoulder, and kissed your cheek sweetly, making Johnny coo at the two of you.

“I can’t believe that I hadn’t thought about pairing the two of you together earlier”

He must have thought that the awkward body language and the silence that fell was a sign from you and Jae to leave you alone. He excused himself, saying something about “letting the young lovers swim in the pool of their love”, or something along those lines.

The two of you walked together, following the road to your next class that was just a few buildings away.

“So how has class, baby

You rolled your eyes at the insistent nickname, “you know that Johnny left us, like, 5 minutes ago, right?”

“Let me enjoy itttt”, he whined, “Naeun never let me call her anything like that”

“Why is that?”

He looked at his feet moving and frowned in thought.

“She said I was embarrassing her in front of her friends. I think she just didn’t want other guys to know that we were together”

You felt a pang of sadness and you realized that it always followed any conversation you two had about his and Naeun’s relationship.

“Well then if you call me baby, I can will you honey. Or sugarplum. Or pumpkin pie. Or-“

It was startling how fast Jaehyun pressed you up against the wall. In just a moment, he had put his hands on your waist, burying his face in your hair. You shivered when you felt his breath as he spoke against your neck.

“Yuta’s watching us”

All you could do was stay frozen in place, and listen with wide eyes.

“Huh?”

He chuckled at your response, but he replied patiently.

“Yuta? Your ex? He’s right over there. Figured we should give him a show”

And with that, he kissed you. Everything was happening so fast, that you could barely comprehend that Jaehyun, that was a stranger in the past weekend, was now making out with you at the hall, for everyone to see.

And that included Yuta.

You opened your eyes in the kiss and searched for him, spotting him with his frat buddies. His eyes were piercing through the two of you, and you saw Mark holding him back by the shoulder. The look on his face was priceless.

Jaehyun pulled back and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Thank you”, you whispered, “but I need one more favor”

“Anything baby”

“Slap my ass as we walk away”

Sure enough, Jaehyun took your hand and you continue your walk, momentarily stopping to make eye contact with Yuta and give you a little spank. It was something your ex loved doing on the rare occasion you two met up outside of your dorms, no matter how public the setting. You heard Mark yelling something at his ‘Yuta hyung’ and that’s when you thought, your plan just might work.

———————————————————

You didn’t see Jaehyun until your birthday. It was just a small get together, but your place was starting to get a bit crowded as time went by. Johnny had been suffocating you with hugs ever since he got there, reminiscing the time you met as teenagers and calling you an old lady. Jungwoo on the other hand couldn’t stop asking about Jaehyun. You kept making excuses about how he didn’t feel so good today and might not make it. You didn’t expect him to come, of course. Just because you had agreed on fake dating, it didn’t mean that he had any obligation to be present in all your social events. The loving message he left on your Facebook wall was enough to fulfill the purpose of your current relationship.

That is why, when you heard a knock on your door, the last thing you thought you’d see was Jaehyun holding a dozen of red roses.

“Happy birthday baby!”, he exclaimed and gave you a kiss on your cheek,

“I asked Johnny about your favorite flowers, hope we got it right”

Feeling speechless, you took the roses from his hands and inhaled their sweet scent. You were dumbfounded that he actually came, and even brought you a present. You thanked him for coming, and he repeated the same thing he said back at your place, “how could your boyfriend miss your birthday?”

And even you were fooled, momentarily, when he held you by the waist later that night and sang you happy birthday. You blew your candles and all you could wish for was a love like the one Jaehyun was faking for you. He helped you clean up, and was more than willing to socialize with all of your friends. You admired how well he fitted in your social circle, already friends with Johnny and Jungwoo, yet so nice that even people he met for the first time came to love him.

You were sitting on one of your dining chairs, your two best friends already passed out on your couch. They had brought two bottles of vodka and your favorite tequila, but you weren’t in the mood to drink. You couldn’t help but remember the time when you practically begged Yuta to be there on your special day and he still missed it. You were scared that if you got a little drunk you would text him, or worse, call him, his sweet talk bringing you back to him all over again.

The only sounds resonating through your apartment were Jungwoo’s light snoring and a chill Spotify playlist playing from your laptop. A familiar tune came on, and you recognized it being ‘Nothing’s gonna hurt you baby’ by Cigarettes After Sex. You immediately looked at Jaehyun, the only conscious person still at the party other than you. He threw his head back and sighed contently at the sound of his favorite song. You saw him get up and walk over to you, reaching his hand out.

“Will the birthday girl spare me a dance?”

You slow danced in the middle of your living room, ending the night in the sweetest note. Jaehyun always felt so stable, so safe. You wondered how he got himself tangled up in that mess of a relationship with Naeun. Maybe it was the way he treated people with such kindness, void of any prejudice. Maybe he was a little bit like you, and didn’t think he deserved much.

“She’s crazy” you mumble against his chest, his confused hum making you feel the vibration on your face.

“Naeun. She’s crazy for ever cheating on someone like you. You’re perfect”

“I have my flaws”

You thought about how competitive he got when you played beer pong earlier, how his ears get red when he gets embarrassed, how he shows his dimpled smile in apology when he’s late. His love for drinking and how it makes him more honest, his trust in people that must have gotten him hurt many, many times. You liked them all, you loved them all.

“It’s just so hard for someone not to fall in love with you”

———————————————————

And that’s how the days went by with Jaehyun. You met up almost every day, in restaurants for a nice dinner, or hanging out in each other’s dorm. It was so much fun getting to spend time with him, that you sometimes forgot to make your meetup public on social media. You helped him with his math homework, and he helped you dye your hair. You even went to his basketball game, and he dedicated one of his goals to you, following every teen movie cliche.

You felt a little sad how it was all falling to an end. The plan was successful, for the most part. Naeun had asked Jaehyun to meet up later tonight, talk things through. You wished he wouldn’t go back to her, but you knew you had no real say in his love life. Yuta saw that he didn’t own you, that there were people like Jaehyun that were willing to give you what your ex had promised you, but wasn’t able to give. Well, not really, you reminded yourself. Jaehyun was faking it. You shouldn’t let yourself get lost in the fairytale, even if the past two weeks were some of the best of your life. He had proposed that you claim that the reason for your upcoming ‘breakup’ was differences in character, but you decided to stay friends. You were happy that at least, in the midst of all this mess, you met someone like him.

It was Saturday, a day before the frat party. You had invited him over, celebrate the end of your relationship with some pizza and a movie.

The movie was boring, but Jaehyun made you laugh. It reminded you of the first time the two of you met up alone. You had gotten comfy on your couch, sharing popcorn when you noticed. A huge bruise was peeking out from Jaehyun’s tank top, the dark color contrasting against his porcelain skin.

“What the hell?!” you exclaimed and scooted closer to him. You rushed your hands on his chest, your fingers pushing the fabric aside to examine the bruise. You found even more bruises scattered around it, accompanied with scratches that stretched longer than his top could.

“It was from the game the other day”, he tried to excuse, but you weren’t buying it.

“Jae, I was there. You played basketball, not WWE. Now who did this to you?”

He sighed and fidgeted with a loose string on his jeans, clearly uncomfortable.

“When I caught Naeun with my roommate, and broke up with her, she didn’t take it very well”

You kept staring at him, urging him to continue.

“She started calling me names, saying that she’s the best I’ll ever have. That I’m worthless without her, just a social climber trying to mooch off of her popularity”

He motioned on his torso, “When I kicked her out of my place, this happened”

“Is that the first time she acted violent?”

He shook his head. “Pretty much every time she didn’t get her way”

“Jae”, you started, placing your hands on top of his “this is abuse. Have you ever talked to anyone about it?”

“It’s- it’s nothing. It’s embarrassing”

“No it’s not! Abuse is not exclusive to any gender! Guys get affected by it too!”

“It’s embarrassing because I know I can physically stop her but I don’t”

His eyes were starting to water, the sight was heartbreaking. “I sit there frozen and just take it”

“Why?”

“Because part of me believes her. That I’m hopeless without someone like her, dictating what I can and cannot do. I don’t need a shrink to tell me that it’s sick. I have these bruises to remind me”

You were starting to get angry. Angry at that bitch for hurting him, angry at Jaehyun who puts up with it, angry at you, for not seeing past the obvious like everyone else.

“I’m not letting you go see her tonight”

He laughs at you, putting up an invisible barrier between you.

“Not letting me? Wake up y/n! We’re not a real couple, remember? We’re just faking it to satisfy our selfish needs. This whole thing is pointless”

He stormed to the door and you tried to stop him, but he was too riled up for that.

“You’re going to forget about me as soon as this whole circus is over, just like everyone else”

“How can you accuse me like that when you haven’t even let me be a part of your life for real?”

“Because now you’ve met me. Me. With all my ugly, all my fucking bruises. Is it still so hard not to fall in love with me?”

With that, he closed your door with a bang, not even letting you answer that yes, it was impossible not to fall in love with Jung Jaehyun.

———————————————————

History seemed to repeat itself, as you got a text from him the next morning, that you didn’t expect.

jaehyunnie: let’s meet outside of the frat at 10:30, i’ll bring the booze.

And that’s what you did, showing up with your shortest skirt, spotting Jaehyun sitting a few meters from the frat’s entrance. He was laying against the wall, his eyes red, and he gave you the same smile he always did when he saw you, as if your fight yesterday never happened.

“Hey baby” he said and pulled you in for a hug. You couldn’t resist the invitation, and felt yourself melting in his embrace. He smelled like weed and shower gel.

It was nice, how he proclaimed your truce, but you still had to get something off your chest.

“Listen, Jae, about last night, you were right. This whole thing is pointless. We can go home, if you want”

“No baby”, he started and pulled away just enough to look at you. His eyes were droopy but glancing back at you with such care as he moved a strand of hair out of your face, “we’re here to have fun”

You wondered why he was still willing to come to the party with you as your boyfriend. Maybe he wanted to do you one last favor with Yuta, or maybe he wasn’t done indulging in Naeun’s petty games. You looked at his forearms, noticing a few scratches that weren’t there yesterday.

“I’m guessing you and Naeun didn’t make up last night”

He shook his head, and rubbed his hands on your back, keeping your temper down.

“Did you get in a fight?”

“Something like that”

You didn’t know what came over you. It was anger and protectiveness, possessiveness even. You laced your fingers in his locks, letting his head rest against the wall. If Naeun wanted you to speak in her language, then so be it.

You started kissing his neck, on that part on the side that is tender and sensitive. You heard passerbys whistling at the two of you, seemingly getting it on in public. Your licks and sucks weren’t meant for pleasure though, you had a goal and that was to leave a bruise. A statement for Naeun.

You walked in the building hand in hand and followed Jae to the kitchen, where he poured you a drink out of the bottle he brought along. Looking around, you sensed a couple familiar faces staring back at you from the crowd. Taeyong from class, Mark and Ten, and last but not least, Naeun. You downed the drink in one shot and lead Jaehyun to the dance floor.

He put his hands on your hips, and swayed you at the sound of some club song you weren’t familiar with. You ground your ass against him and he hissed, keeping you close against him. A little voice in your head was screaming how this isn’t real, to him this is all pretend, but you ignored it. You wanted her to think that he was yours, that she couldn’t hurt him anymore.

“Why are you doing this to me y/n? Yuta’s not even around”

Jae turned you around, and you put your hands on his shoulders. He looked absolutely breathtaking tonight. You searched his face for a flaw, yet couldn’t find any. You wouldn’t change a single thing on him.

“She’s here” you said venomously.

He buried his face in your neck, inhaling the smell of your hair and trying to ground himself from his high. “I don’t give a fuck about Naeun”

He kissed your ear and your mind fogged up even more.

“She didn’t ask me to meet up yesterday, I did. I wanted to tell her that she and I were done, for good. I thought she wouldn’t be here tonight, but I guess she changed her mind”

What?

“Then why are you here? And why did you let me give you that big ass hickey?”

He stopped nibbling on your ear, and whispered to it instead.

“I’d never miss up on a chance to feel yours”

The bodies dancing next to you, the liquer you had downed a few minutes ago and Jaehyun’s words were getting too much to handle. You felt suffocated, unable to distinguish where reality ended and pretending began with you two.

“Jae, I need a moment, excuse me”

Releasing yourself from his grasp, you made your way to the kitchen. There wasn’t any fresh air, but there was plenty of booze. You poured yourself a shot and as you downed it, you felt another liquid trickling down your top.

You looked up to find out who managed to make this night even worse for you, only to come across the last person you needed to see tonight. Yuta.

“Shit I’m sorry”, he muttered and you avoided eye contact, thinking you’d manage to get away without him realizing it was you. Luck wasn’t on your side tonight.

“Well well well. Long time no see.”

Confidence was dripping from his smile, to his stance, to the way he looked at you. He had dyed his hair your favorite color, his white locks begging to be tugged and played with. To top it all off, he smelled good, so, so good. He smelled dangerous. Comfortable.

You immediately realized that you didn’t have the self control needed to resist him. Turning on your heel, you started to get the hell out of there when he held your wrist, keeping you in place.

“Wait, I’m sorry, you can’t stay like this, you’ll catch a cold”

“Since when are you worried about me?”

“C’mon y/n, please. Come upstairs, I’ll give you a clean shirt. No funny business, I promise”

You hated yourself for this, but you followed him upstairs to his room, like a pray falling right into the hunter’s trap. He closed the door behind him, muting the loud music and you sat on his bed that you were so familiar with. Looking through his closet, he passed you one of his t-shirts, and turned around to let you change with some privacy. It was comical how chivalrous he was acting, considering the unspeakable things you’ve done in here.

“Not like you’ll see something you haven’t seen already”, you murmured and he chuckled, raising his hands.

“Hey, I’m a gentleman. It’s my fault, after all. I have a habit of getting you wet.”

Blushing at his comment, you quickly changed into the clean shirt and felt the bed dip next to you. You thanked him under your breath and started getting up, when you felt him hold you back once again.

“Stay, just a moment. I’ve missed you”

“What do you want?”

“You, baby”

Yuta was the one who said it, but you swore you felt Jaehyun’s voice reverberating through the nickname. Suddenly, it felt like there was no air for you to breathe.

“That’s not happening, Yuta. I’m with Jaehyun now”

He scoffed, “Jaehyun? Naeun’s puppy? Come on now, we both know you can do better than that”

“Don’t talk about him like that”, you bite back, but he doesn’t budge.

“What kind of boyfriend leaves his girl alone in a party like this?” He grips your chin, making you stare at him face to face, impossibly close. “Look at you. Every single guy in this party wants to fuck you. You expect me to be ok with this?”

Yuta lets his other hand glide on your knee, moving up to your thigh slowly. He smiled at how easy it was to focus on him.

“Do you remember how I made you feel? How I reminded you that you’re mine? You were moaning so loud, Mark thought you’d pass out. You loved it.”

You wanted to scream, tell him that this was the past you, that you couldn’t take going back to him once again and get your heart broken one more time, but you felt helpless around him. The warm feeling was only temporary, it would soon evaporate when you face the fact that to him, you are nothing but a play toy, a possession.

And that’s when Jaehyun barged in through the door. His eyes moved frantically from Yuta’s hands on your thighs, to his band tee you wore, to your discarded top on the floor. He quickly turned red, the color spreading from his neck to his face, then landing on his ears.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing with my girlfriend?”

You instantly got up, following his thought sequence.

“It’s not what it looks like! He spilled his drink on me and gave me a clean shirt and..and..”

“And you decided to sit on his lap to thank him?”, he mocked you and Yuta laughed.

“Calm down, dude. I didn’t make her do anything. Besides, it’s not the first time y/n found her way over here after some disappointing dick”

Jaehyun grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up from the bed, forcing him to stand and face him. You moved between the two, trying to stop the catastrophe that was about to happen. Jae might have more muscle power than Yuta, but if the whole frat ganged up on him he would have to leave this place in a stretcher.

“Jaehyun please, let’s just go. Baby, please”

The nickname was the only thing that brought him out of his rage and made him listen to you. He let go of Yuta and took your hand, dragging you out of the room.

You were two hallways down when you pulled away, forcing him to stop.

“Why did you have to get so mad?”

“Why the fuck did you go back to him?”

“I didn’t! It was just.. so hard for me to tell him no”

You felt your eyes water with how pathetic you sounded. Jaehyun rubbed his hands over his face, groaning in frustration.

“Don’t you understand how much it fucking hurts? To see you with that guy that treats you like shit when I’m right here, willing to give you everything? When I’m in love with you?”

You couldn’t process what he said because in a moment, his mouth was on yours. The kiss was so different than the one you shared at the hallway of your campus. It was passionate, it was rough, and this time, he monopolized your attention. His lips were determined to bruise into yours, leaving you breathless and causing your back to fall against a wall. It was crowded around you, eyes prying into your intimate moment but to you, the only person around was Jaehyun.

“You smell like him”, he growled, sucking on the tender spot under your ear, “makes me wanna fuck his scent off of you”

That was all you needed to hear. You led him to the frat’s guest room, knowing that Taeil always kept a spare key in the lamp next to the door. Unlocking the door seemed like a tour de force with Jaehyun leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck, but you finally managed to stumble inside. You locked the door behind you, continuing your heated kiss, hands roaming around each other’s body.

He was taller than you, so when you felt him grab your ass with such eagerness, you almost lifted off the ground. You palmed him through his jeans, the roughness of his hard on making your panties stick from wetness just a bit more.

“I want to taste you” you managed through kisses, but he just unzipped your skirt as a response, pulling it to the floor in one hasty move. Petting your clit through your underwear, a shiver ran down your spine, spreading goosebumps all over your arms and legs.

“I don’t think I have the patience for that”

He walked you backwards towards the guest bed, taking his pants and shirt off along the way. You sat on the edge of it and admired his godly proportions, when you took notice of the bruises and scratches that led to your fight on Saturday. Suddenly feeling the need to slow down, you started leaving kisses over each and every one of them. You wanted him to trust you, give in to you completely. He had his flaws just like he said, but you wanted all of him. And you wanted him now.

“I need you, now”, you voiced your thoughts and helped him take off his boxers, revealing his hard cock. He was thick and decently long, making your mouth water and your pussy clench.

Towering on top of you, he removed your panties that were embarrassingly damp at this point, and by his smirk, you knew he noticed.

Jaehyun bent your legs next to your torso, making you expose all of you. He licked his lips as he dove into your lower ones, muttering praises about your “pretty pussy”, turning you impossibly wet.

Jung Jaehyun never disappoints, you thought, because the moment you felt the first lap over your sensitive bud, you got a taste of heaven. He alternated between licking and sucking over the spot that turned you into putty against him. You were already unbearably turned on at this point, and the changing pace of his tongue made you lose your mind.

Your pants and moans only seemed to urge him on, and after a few minutes of his careful treatment you felt yourself getting close. He must have sensed it, because when you grabbed the bedpost in an effort to stop shaking, he stood on his knees, and reached for a condom in his wallet.

You didn’t have time to complain about the denial of your orgasm, and started taking Yuta’s shirt off, when he grabbed your hands and placed them back on their previous position on the headboard.

“Don’t”, he said sternly as he lined himself up your entrance, “I want to fuck you in his shirt”

There was no time to think about whether his request was healthy or not, because when you felt him stretch you out, the only thing on your mind was him and his dick.

You let out a deep moan and he took it as a sign to screw himself deeper inside you. Your pussy gushed uncontrollably, filling the room with the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin. You unlaced your fingers and ran them down his back, ghosting them over the dimples that had affected you so much.

Jaehyun lowered himself, letting his chest touch yours, and you could feel his abs contracting over the fabric of Yuta’s shirt.

“I bet he’s never eaten you out like that, yeah?”

“N-no, never, ahh”

He sat up again, putting your legs over his shoulders and lifted your butt off the mattress, gripping your hips to steady himself before continuing his incredible pace.

“You’re mine, aren’t you baby? Mine to give you everything.”

The position felt divine. He was hitting it incredibly deep, reaching the spot that had you moaning so loud you were thankful for the unbearably loud music of the party. You were sure his fingers would leave a mark over your hipbones but you didn’t care, the pain only accentuating the warm feeling in your belly.

“J-Jae don’t stop - fuck don’t stop I’m gonna cum”

He leaned over, grabbing your face that was contorting in pleasure.

“Look at me when you cum for me”, he demanded, and when you rolled your eyes behind your head, letting go, he let out his first moan for the night.

He kissed your lips sweetly, helping you ride out your high.

“You’re so beautiful, my baby. So, so beautiful”, he praised and you submitted fully to him. He turned your body around, positioning you in all fours, and you wondered where the gentle boy you met at Johnny’s house went. His dick buried in you once again, spreading your juices around and the sensitivity of your previous orgasm made you aware of every single inch.

“So fucking tight”

Jaehyun didn’t go easy on you. He saw how much you liked it, how you were pushing your ass against his cock. He pounded in and out of you with the intention of fucking your thoughts out, and that’s just what he did. When the feeling got too much, and making any sort of noise seemed like a feat, you felt him push your hair back, and start biting on your neck, most definitely leaving a mark.

“I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I’m gonna cum”, he muttered, his voice wavering and you felt him release in the condom inside you.

It took a while for the both of you to regain your breaths. Jaehyun’s chest was heaving up and down as you rest your head on top of it, not brave enough to break the silence.

“I’m sorry”, he finally said and started petting your hair lovingly.

“About what?”

The bed was foreign and small but you both stayed still, wanting to bask a little more in the peacefulness of the moment.

“About getting so possessive, and saying all these things out of jealousy. I acted just like him..”

You kissed his left peck, listening to his heart that was starting to beat in a faster pace.

“Jaehyun, you’re nothing like Yuta. I get how you felt, I feel the same way when I think about you with Naeun”

He took your hand that was resting on his abs and planted a kiss on your palm. Your heart did a flip and you were pressed so close together, he sure must have felt it.

“I should have told you about her sooner. About the fights and how I let her go because of you. I was in denial about my feelings for you because-“

He stopped mid sentence, wary of the way his words would come off to you. Jaehyun was a proud man, but he opened up his heart tonight, admitting he was in love with you. He had already exposed so much of himself that you gave him the time he needed to organize his thoughts.

“Because I was insecure. That you would never like someone like me. That Naeun was right. That you were only interested in playing pretend with me and didn’t mean any of the things you said, and I let myself get carried away in a lie”

You and Jaehyun were two lost souls, trying to break free from the constraints your insecurities built up for you. You didn’t have to succumb to your masochistic tendencies anymore, wasting your time in heartless lovers because now you found him and he found you. Both unable to see any value in themselves, but more that willing to treasure the other. And that was enough for you.

“I’d be honored to be loved by someone like you. Baby.”

[songbirdstyles]

white wedding.

summary: your estranged aunt leaves you her estate in her will with the stipulation that you have to be married to receive your inheritance. luckily, harry is more than willing to help.

pairing: best friend!harry styles x reader

warnings: fluff, smut, angst if you squint.

song inspo.: white wedding - billy idol

word count: 13.4k

You weren’t too close to your Aunt Alice for the entirety of your life - there’s a picture, you think, hung in your parents’ house of her and some of your other family members, crowding around your bassinet when you were just a baby, her face turned up into a scowl amid everyone else’s gleaming grins, and it was a lovely foreshadow into your relationship with her. She sent you $10 on your birthdays and Christmas (an amount that your father had always scoffed at when he thought you weren’t listening - ‘she’s a goddamn millionaire,’ he’d hiss to your mother, ‘and the most she can spare her only niece is $10?’)  and you could remember, when you were 9, seeing her at a family reunion where she sat at a table pressed into a back corner and nursed glasses of wine during the entire event.

It goes without saying, you suppose, that she wasn’t the kindest lady. Your mother had told you how Aunt Alice cut off your father for some reason nobody could quite discern and, so, she never held a much larger place in your life than a mere branch on your second grade family tree project -

But, still. It’s rather difficult to regard the dead in such a negative manner so you try and focus on the good parts of your late aunt. Twice, she wrote ‘love u’ in your Christmas card. And, at said family reunion, when you walked over to her table to say goodbye before you left, she delivered a sloppy, strangely wet kiss to the side of your face that smelled distinctly of chardonnay (a scent you hadn’t quite been able to place until years later.) And - 

“Are you alright?”

Harry’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, gazing out the rain-streaked car window at the night sky with an odd air of sadness surrounding you. You had been trying to hide the slight dash of sadness you feel at the memory of your aunt by disguising it with a mask of sleepiness that has you leaning your forehead against the cold window, eyes squeezed shut. But Harry can read you like a goddamn book - like the back of his hand. It’s what best friends are for, you suppose.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, tilting your head away from the window to glance at him in the driver’s seat. And, the truth is, you are fine. It’s not as though you’re entirely too saddened with the news of Aunt Alice’s passing. She’d always had health issues, according to your parents, and you’re not sure what, exactly, has sealed her fate - you’re simply more confused by it all. “Well - when we were leaving the movies, I got a call from my dad. My aunt died.”

You can hear Harry’s sharp intake of breath and there’s a brief hesitation where you know he’s trying to gauge how you feel about it. “Oh,” he settles on, turning to look at you in the eye when the car rolls to a stop at a red light. “M’sorry, love.”

You shrug, glancing down to squint at your fingernails in the darkness of Harry’s car. You’d begun to pick at the baby blue nail polish he’d delicately applied the night before (they matched his, naturally) and it really is a nervous habit you should work on, but you can’t be bothered right now. “We weren’t close,” you admit, leaning back against the headrest. “It’s just weird, is all.”

“Are y’sad about it?”

“Not quite,” and it’s the truth. “She was wealthy, though. I think she wrote novels or plays or something - I’m not sure. And I was, apparently, her closest living relative that she didn’t despise.”

He clicks his tongue softly, making a left when the light finally switches to green, and his eyes shift back towards the road. “Left y’somethin’ in her will, did she?”

“Her countryside estate,” you confess, voice soft - it’s not the climax of your story but it certainly sounds like it should be, and you can see the confused crease in Harry’s eyebrows when you look up at him. “I looked the address up online, Har - it’s gorgeous, 6 beds and 7 bathrooms. I guess we had similar tastes in that regard.”

“Y’don’t sound too thrilled, for someone who jus’ got their dream house handed to ‘em on a platter.”

“There’s a stipulation in the will.”

“Ah.”

You smile tightly. “I’ll only inherit the house if I’m married.”

It’s something you’ll never understand. Aunt Alice never married and lived in that grand old house (your dream house) all by herself, and if you’d known about your role in her will perhaps you’d have argued it with her in person - the hypocrisy of it all, how goddamn unfair it was. And it’ll kill you - truly kill you - to see that house go to whoever her next closest living relative is who she doesn’t hate. Probably some third cousin twice removed, considering how great she was at cutting people off.

And Harry sits for a moment in silence, considering it. “Seems very - very - can’t think of the word.”

“Sexist? Unfair? Dumb?”

“All true,” he agrees, giving you a sympathetic smile, and it makes you feel the tiniest bit better, even if it’s just for a moment. “Barbaric, maybe.”

“I hate her,” you declare, crossing your arms over your hoodie-clad chest, and you most certainly don’t, but you’re angry enough to mean it in the moment. When your father had told you, you hadn’t thought about it too much - besides being confused by the entire thing, being left a house by a relative you hardly knew - but saying it out loud makes you angrier, squeezing your eyes shut. “Would you know she never married? How does that make sense?” “It doesn’t,” Harry repeats, and you glance out the window, lifting your palm to wipe at the cloudy stain your forehead had made against the glass - you’re just less a minute away from your apartment building, and you rip your phone from Harry’s charger and shove it into the pocket of your hoodie. “She left you time, right? T’get married? Tha’ seems only fair.”

You snort, ignoring the way his lips turn up into a smile at the noise. “She gave me a year. I mean, I’m 23 - I wasn’t intending on settling down for another couple of years.”

If you were less distracted, perhaps you’d see his responding silence for what it is - time to think, gears grinding in his head, as he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment building and leans over the center console to wrap you in a hug. Harry’s a talkative person and he’s only really quiet when he’s got something on his mind, but you’ve got something on yours too (probably more than he does) so you ignore it. And his soft murmur into your hair of ‘I’ll pick you up tomorrow for breakfast’ sounds every bit as distracted as you feel so you simply pay it no mind.

It’s easier that way, for now.

 --

 “I’ve been thinkin’ about your situation.”

You raise your eyebrows at Harry, bent over his plate of French toast as though he hadn’t spoken at all. His sunglasses are perched at the end of his nose so you can see his eyes - which, in your opinion, defeats the purpose of even wearing the stupid things in public. But, whenever you two go out together, he insists on wearing them, along with a grey beanie protecting his infamous head of curls from any wandering eyes, and the bizarre attempt at a disguise always makes you feel like you’re having breakfast with a burglar. 

“Not much to think about,” you shrug, popping a forkful of omelet into your mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “I was just mad about it last night, you know. Heat of the moment, sort of thing.”

“I’d be mad, too,” Harry tells you, and it’s getting more difficult to ignore the way his words send heat creeping up your neck, and you glance down at your plate of eggs with a small smile gracing your face. “Not jus’ heat of the moment, either. Really mad. S’bullshit.”

A second of silence passes, and you let his reassurance settle over you - simply having him agree with you on the stupidity of the entire situation makes you feel a thousand times better. Even if you don’t get the house (and you’ve already progressed into the last stage of grief over almost certainly losing it - acceptance) at least you’ll always have Harry, and maybe that’s enough.

But the house would be nice, too.

“What were you thinking about?” You question, lifting your eyes back up to meet his through his tinted glasses, and if there wasn’t the barrier between your gazes you’d be able to note the nearly shameful glint in his eyes as he digs into his stack of sugary sweet toast, doused with maple syrup and towered high with fruit. “About the situation, I mean.”

Harry begins to speak once more just as you reach over with your fork to nab a piece of banana, and he swats at your wrist as you pop the slice of fruit into your mouth. “Don’ steal my banana, babe,” he tells you, eyes narrowing in mock anger, and you roll your eyes at the name. “Anyway. S’not totally crazy, that you could get married in less than a year.”

Yes, it is, you want to reply back, but you can tell he’s ramping up to something important, so you rest your fork on your plate and furrow your eyebrows at him pointedly. Truthfully, even if the love of your life happened to be sitting in front of you, you’re not sure you could go through with marrying them, anyway. It’s such a heavy commitment and, God, you thought you’d have more time. Time to explore and experiment and not settle down (in your dream house) just for the sake of it.

“What if we got married?”

And that - is not what you were expecting him to say.

You’re not sure if he’s kidding or not so you give it a minute before responding in any capacity. Just stare at him, and he makes a point of hooking his pinkie in the center of his sunglasses and tugging them down his nose just a bit so you can see the absolute lack of amusement in his eyes. He’s all business, goddammit, as if he hadn’t just basically proposed to you in the middle of eating your fucking omelet.

But you can’t be sure he’s serious, and you also can’t be sure that the way your stomach flipped wasn’t because of a particularly egregious sip of chocolate milk and not the prospect of marrying your best friend. So you lean back, crossing your arms over your chest. “Are you kidding?”

Harry just shakes his head, grey beanie sliding up just a bit for one chocolate coloured lock of hair to escape the confines of the dumb hat. “M’being dead serious, babe. I’ll get down on one knee an’ prove it, too.”

“Don’t do that,” you beg him, reaching out to grab at his wrist when he makes to push himself out of his chair, and his wide grin only sends your stomach into another set of somersaults. “Jesus, Har.”

“Horrible idea?”

You don’t respond right away, grabbing your glass of chocolate milk and wrapping your lips around the straw. It’s a few seconds to process the request in all its glory - marrying your best friend, even if it’s just for show, is a lot. Sure, all you’d really have to do is head down to a courthouse (you could do it today, even - if you wanted to, and you’re not sure you do.) It’d be easier than searching hopelessly for the love of your life and arrange a wedding in less than a year, and you’d be able to walk the halls of your aunt’s gorgeous estate, decorate it how you please, and - ideally - your relationship with Harry wouldn’t quiver in the slightest.

Well, maybe that’s why you’re hesitant to begin with. Because it would quiver - or because it wouldn’t - or because it’s plain weird to marry your best friend. Even if it’s for a good cause (your dream home) and even if he suggested it in the first place, because he cares about you and wants you to be happy.

That’s sweet.

Maybe it would be a glorious fuck you to Aunt Alice in death. It isn’t as though anyone would know about the inauthenticity of the union but you would, and that’s all the revenge you need for her adding such a silly stipulation to her will, anyway. A marriage born not out of love, but out of need - sure, it’s not exactly how you wanted your life to go, but it’s better than watching the estate go to someone you’d never met before. You could get married and get divorced in the time frame she’d given you to find love in the first place and it would hardly be a blip in your life plans, and certainly not in Harry’s. It isn’t as though he’d suggest it if the marriage would ruin anything for him. 

Sure, you’d prance around family parties with him on your arm to sell your faux romance to your family. Only one or two, though, his arm around your waist, and it wasn’t as if your parents hadn’t already begun to question whether your close friendship with Harry ventured into something further. And, when it’s all said and done, when the house is officially in your name and you can begin shopping for furniture to make it your own, it’ll be easy to sell the divorce - he’s touring, you’d tearfully proclaim, and the stress was just too much on our relationship. And then you’d both be happy, right? For the most part, anyway. Still best friends with no hassle at all, and you get your house and he gets the popstar life without the settling down part.

When you’ve swallowed your gulp of chocolate milk, it’s nearly worrying how much you’ve thought about the proposal.

“It’s not a horrible idea,” you begin, eyes diverting downward to where Harry’s fingers are fiddling with a straw wrapper. “I mean, it could be pretty easy.”

“Very easy.”

“We just elope -”

“Could do it today, even -”

“I haven’t agreed yet, Mr. Styles - but we would elope, and then I’d get the house, and maybe I’d bring you to a family reunion, just to sell it, and then we’re divorced.”

He raises his eyebrows, glasses sliding further down the bridge of his nose until their purpose has been completely obliterated, and his eyes are on display for the goddamn world to see. “Unless we fall in love an’ live happily ever after - no divorce necessary, m’love.”

Bastard. Your stomach flips again but you just roll your eyes, picking up your fork and lifting a shaky bite of eggs up to your mouth. “Shut up.”

You’re almost certain you’ve made up your mind but you still make a show of thinking about it, slowly chewing on your omelet and focusing your gaze on a paper napkin resting on the ground beside Harry’s chair. It’s almost too easy, the entire process, and maybe that should make you nervous, just a little bit, that the idea of marrying him feels so relaxing. But - well - if you had to choose anyone in the world to marry in order to fulfill a stipulation in your aunt’s will, it would have to be Harry.

He’s looking at you eagerly when you look back up at him, and you’re not sure why he’s so excited about it - not like there’s anything in it for him - but it’s something you’ll think about later.

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this,” you tell him, watching the way his grin spreads across his face like wildfire, and you can’t help yourself from smiling, too, “but I am.”

In seconds, Harry’s reaching across the table, grabbing your hand in his larger one, and just the way your heart jumps at the feeling of your palms pressed together should certainly have you rethinking your enthusiastic yes. But then he’s picking up the straw wrapper he’d been fiddling with, and it’s twisted into a makeshift wedding ring, and he’s sliding it onto your ring finger with a wide smile like a fucking puppy -

God. You’re in too deep already, and you’ve only just agreed.

 --

 For the record, you’d rethought your decision many, many times since agreeing.

You’d drafted out the text for Harry for when you inevitably will change your mind - a block of words confessing to him that you’d reacted too quickly and you think it would be best if you simply forfeit your inheritance, but you can never quite gather the guts to do it. And every time you copy and paste the note from your notes to your text thread with your best friend, something always stops you -

The photos of the house from the real estate website you’d seen it on.

Harry’s wide grin as you accepted his offer.

FIngers delicately sliding on an engagement ring made of a paper straw wrapper, and the next day when he’d shown up at your door with an actual, real engagement ring.

Naturally, you hadn’t sent it. You’d deleted the note entirely, too, embarrassed with even looking at your words of defeat sprawled on your phone screen. Sometimes, though, you wish you had fucking sent it. Nearly two weeks after accepting the proposal that still hasn’t progressed from feeling like an absolute fever dream, you’re sitting with Harry at Aunt Alice’s funeral, his arm hooked around the back of your chair and the other clutching a glass of wine that he’s hardly taken two sips of.

You’re on your second glass already, and it’s barely been an hour. You’d signed the guestbook and hooked your arm with Harry’s and introduced him as your fiance to exactly one of your great-aunts, and you’d been so nervous that Aunt Shirley could see right through your faux-engagement that you’d practically downed your glass the second her back turned. 

“This is so weird,” you confess to Harry, shifting closer to him so no one else around you can hear. Not that there is, per se, anyone else around you - not many other people are sitting down, but you and Harry were one of the first people to arrive, so you’ve given yourselves a pass to sit down for a while. “Isn’t it weird, Har?”

“S’only weird if you make it weird,” he murmurs back, and you would roll your eyes at how maddeningly calm he is if you weren’t desperate to keep up your pretense as loving fiance to the funeral goers whose wandering eyes may turn to you two. “And, babe, you’re makin’ it weird.”

Your lips spread into a smile and you lift your glass of wine to your lips, taking a small sip before bringing it back down to your lap. No matter how many times you scream at yourself, internally, that nobody knows you’re not engaged and to calm the fuck down, you can’t stop your leg from bouncing up and down, showcasing your nerves in the most outward way you possibly could. “Wonder when my parents are getting here - should’ve texted them and told them separately. Did you tell your mum?”

“Told her the truth,” Harry tells you, tilting his head into yours in a way that feels so natural you swear you could stay this way forever. “You’re not tellin’ your parents the truth?”

“Bless my mum,” you sigh, “but she can’t keep a secret to save her life.”

Harry exhales a soft laugh, eyes darting around the room full of people before landing back on yours, and your gazes lock for just the briefest of seconds before he’s glancing down at your lap. “Y’don’t have t’do this if you’re uncomfortable, y’know. We can jus’ say - the pressure of m’job was too much.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you tell him, which is true. You’re nervous, for sure, but he could never make you uncomfortable. “And, ironically enough, that’s my excuse for when we divorce.”

Your voice drops to a near breath on the last word and Harry’s head drops back with a bark of laughter that’s entirely too loud for the setting you’re at but you can’t bring yourself to reprimand him. “Always talkin’ ‘bout our divorce,” Harry breathes, tilting his head closer to yours so his mouth is close enough to your ear that you can feel his breath, hot against your skin. “What if we fall in love, babe? No divorce then. Don’ y’want us t’live happily ever after?”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen,” you roll your eyes, even if you’re almost positive you will (or already have) and shake your head at Harry’s resulting chuckle. “Been best friends for nearly five years, haven’t we? If we were going to fall in love, I reckon it would’ve happened already, Har.” 

“You’re right,” he agrees, voice oddly soft and sounding just sentimental enough for you to narrow your eyes suspiciously at him - but before you can question him further, his eyes dart down to where your leg is still frantically bouncing up and down. “Bloody hell, love - bouncin’ your leg so much. Y’look like a nervous wreck.”

“Thanks,” you begin, and whatever else you’d been meaning to say dies in your throat as Harry’s arm shifts from around the back of your chair and his hand comes down firm on your leg. His fingertips brush your knee and his palm lays soft against your thigh, just high enough to gently brush the end of your black dress and you wish you could control the way your stomach flips again and again like a fucking gymnast.

It’s to keep up appearances, you tell yourself. So people don’t think I’m so nervous. But it feels so nice, so natural in a way you hadn’t expected, feeling his hand resting on your thigh like it belongs there, fingertips drumming against your knee which most certainly isn’t bouncing anymore.

Your eyes flit up to his, narrowing them ever so slightly as if to sniff out his intentions, and out of the corner of your eye you can see two familiar figures walking in the high arched doors of Aunt Alice’s service. Your parents break off from each other nearly the second they enter, your father skirting off to greet some of his cousins and your mother’s eyes scan the room filled with relatives before landing on you and Harry.

“Mum’s here,” you tell Harry, pushing yourself to stand, and the feeling of his hand dropping off your thigh is a sensation you absolutely despise. He stands soon after you, adjusting the cuffs of his black button down shirt, and for the first time since the funeral began, you can see the beginnings of nervousness creeping upon him. A light pink flush works its way up his neck to his cheeks and he brings his hand up to run through his hair, inhaling a shaky breath. “You look nervous, Har. You’ve met my mum before.”

“S’different. Now we’re engaged.”

“Not too different.” You hook your arm with Harry’s, patting his hand with yours, and he gives you one grateful fleeting grin before you begin walking over to your mother. She’s bent over the guestbook, scribbling her name with the feather pen resting beside the log. You stop walking when you’re just a couple paces behind her, waiting for her to turn around and see you two - and your voice drops to a hushed tone as you reassure Harry. “I think she already sort of thought we were dating anyway - so she won’t care too much.”

“Wait - she did?”

“Hey, mum!”

 --

 You’re getting married in a week.

And, sure, you’d known that the entire process would move quicker than you could imagine but it still feels surreal and you still reckon you haven’t thought it through enough. It’s worsened (or, in some way, bettered) by the absolute adoration your family had immediately adopted towards Harry after meeting him just a few days ago, your aunts pulling you aside at the funeral and the repast that occurred after and whispering in your ear about what a handsome man he is! 

Well, they’ll certainly be disappointed when, in a month or two, you pop in to the next family gathering and announce that you two had gotten divorced as quickly as you’d been wed. Harry will be your ex husband and, at that point, surely people would be suspicious at the speed of which everything had happened but - hey - you’ll have your house and your best friend and that’s all you really need, isn’t it.

Yeah.

Slowly but surely, you’re coming to peace with it, and Harry’s certainly making it easier by being so zen about it all. His nerves at the funeral had been just about eradicated because your mum loves him, which you knew, and your father had seemed positively overjoyed at the news of your engagement, but they’d both seemed rather disappointed at your decision to elope instead of spending the time planning a big white wedding. And you’d expected that, but you figure that, by the time your second marriage inevitably rolls around, it’ll be real (realer than whatever you’re feeling for Harry, because you’re still not sure) and your father will walk you down the aisle and you’ll be able to go shopping for a big gorgeous wedding dress like you’d always dreamt of wearing.

You haven't even bought a dress. The one you’re wearing now, staring at yourself in the floor length mirror propped against your bedroom wall, is one you’d purchased for your college graduation to wear beneath your gown - simple and flowy, falling to just about your mid-thigh, and the only redeeming quality for even being considered a wedding dress is its white color. Still - it isn’t as though it’s a real wedding, in the traditional sense, so it doesn’t make sense for you to spend too much on a gown you’ll don for a trip to the courthouse and then get sad whenever you look at it again, post-divorce.

No, you don’t think you like it. You’d liked it for your graduation but for a wedding (your wedding) you wish you had something just a bit nicer, and you want to strip out of it and change back into your jeans but Harry’s sitting in your living room, waiting for you to model the stupid thing for him, and you’d hate to disappoint him. So you inhale softly, run your hand down the fabric, soft beneath your fingers, and reach for the door.

Harry’s on his phone when you step out of your bedroom, slowly shutting the door behind you, his body looking strangely large where he’s perched on the small loveseat in your living room. Everything in your apartment seems too small for him - or just too small in general - and it’ll be a nice change to live in a house where you can hold gatherings of more than 5 people without feeling like sardines in a can.

“Har,” you call, reaching down to tug the ends of your dress just a bit further down your thighs as you step further into the living room, bare feet padding against the plush rug your parents had gotten you as a Christmas gift the year prior. “What do you think of the dress?” You can hear the click of his phone as he turns it off, dropping it on the cushion beside him, and heat creeps up your cheeks as his gaze turns to you - you should feel self conscious, the way his eyes roll up and down your body, drinking in every bit of your dress, but you fucking love it. Love the way his lips part into a small o and upturn into a grin, how he pushes himself to stand and close the distance between you two until he’s hardly two inches away from you, how he reaches down to pick up the end of your dress as though examining the fabric.

“Do you like it?” You question as Harry drops your dress, letting the fabric fall back down around your thighs. “Wasn’t sure if I did.”

“I love it,” he tells you, immediate and forceful and you can tell he means it with his whole chest - maybe you love it, too. “Y’look beautiful.”

“You don’t think it’s too simple, do you?” Maybe you’re fishing for more compliments but you allow yourself to do it shamelessly. “It was my graduation dress - remember?”

“I do remember,” Harry grins, tugging at the bottom of your dress, and keeping his hands busy is a nervous habit of his that you’ve grown to recognize from a hundred miles away, but you can’t think of why, exactly, he’d be nervous now. “Looked so pretty, walkin’ across tha’ stage. I was so proud.”

You smile, gaze dropping down to where his fingers are fiddling with the skirt of your dress, and you think you’ll wear this dress every single goddamn day if he reacts as positively to it as he is now. “You sound like my dad.”

His nose scrunches when you look back up at him, and your heart twists inside your chest. “Don’ make it gross.” You simply shrug, bringing your fingers up to drum against his shoulders through the fabric of his Fleetwood Mac shirt, his muscles flexing ever so slightly beneath your touch. “M’being serious, though. I love the dress. Y’make the prettiest bride on the planet - m’a lucky man, aren’t I.”

From the moment you walked out of your room you’ve been feeling heat burning your cheeks but it doesn’t stop you from gently smacking his shoulder. “Stop it - you’re gonna make me blush.”

“Looks like y’already are, Mrs. Styles.”

Should that name make your stomach as topsy-turvy as it does? 

You shake your head, smoothing your palms over the front of your dress to both eradicate the wrinkles that adorn the fabric and to wipe off the sweat cropping up on your hands. You don’t think you’ve ever been so nervous around Harry before and you can’t quite place your finger on why, but it’s getting more difficult to look him in the eye with your heart pounding as fast as it is. “I’m not gonna be Mrs. Styles for another week.” 

Harry exhales softly, fingertips tapping against your hip and you hadn’t even realized how close his hands were to that spot of your body - but it feels comforting, his touch on an oddly intimate part of you. “I can’t wait,” he says, and you can’t, either. “Makin’ me a very lucky groom, babe.”

Hearing him call you babe could make you go crazy if you focus on it for too long, so you don’t - and it’s hard to focus on much other than Harry himself as his head drops down, forehead pressed to yours, and oh God you can smell his fucking gum, and if you tilt your head up ever so slightly -

Is he going to kiss you? You think your heart will explode but you’ve never wanted anything more so you tilt your head up, just a bit, grip tightening on his shoulder, and you can feel his breath growing warmer against your face -

The sound of Harry’s phone ringing in his pocket snaps you out of your haze.

“Fuck,” he mutters, hands dropping off your hips, and your head drops downwards with a soft groan. It was so close. You could feel his breath against your face and how did that fucking opportunity pass you by? - “S’my mum. Fuck - m’sorry.” And you’re not sure if he’s apologizing for the call or what had (or, rather, had not) happened but it doesn’t matter.

One glance at the phone he’s tugged out of his pocket shows that he’s right - Anne’s contact photo smiles up at you and you give Harry a small nod, faking the smile you’re not feeling, before taking a step back against your plush carpet as he turns around, back to you, phone pressed to his ear.

“I’m gonna change,” you whisper to no one in particular. Harry’s head turns just a bit so you can catch the apologetic look on his face before he’s loudly greeting Anne, and you’ve never liked eavesdropping on their calls. So you turn and head to your bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind you and turning to stare at yourself, wide-eyed, in your mirror.

He almost kissed you.

He didn’t - but would he have? If Anne hadn’t rung him - would he have leaned down, breathing shaky, like how it always is when he’s nervous, and ever so gently pressed his lips to yours? And you would’ve known exactly how it feels to be kissed by him, whether it would be as dream-like as all the times you’ve dreamt of it. His hands on your hips, yours on his shoulders, bodies slotted together until your hands are roaming and you’re pushing him on to the couch, sliding into his lap and his hands would roam to your thighs -

It doesn’t do well to think about it now. You don’t want to get yourself too worked up about it - that doesn’t do anyone much good - and you don’t want to take too long to change. So you inhale a soft breath, smooth your clammy palms back over the front of your wedding dress, and you allow yourself one final glance in the mirror at the attire you’ll be donning in a week’s time before reaching around to your back, fiddling with the zipper until you can begin to tug it down.

 --

 You and Harry haven’t talked too much since you showed him your dress, and it’s probably not very great etiquette for an engaged couple, but you two have never been normal anyway.

He sent you a picture of the suit he’s wearing and it’s as every bit unconventional as your excuse of a wedding dress, and you told him that - how you would be a pair for the books, the opposite of what a regular married couple looks like. And you texted him just yesterday and asked if he would make you two a reservation at your favourite restaurant for dinner after the elopement (he always tended to get the nicer tables, and you don’t pretend not to know why) and he sent you back two thumbs-up emojis in response.

You’re getting married in three days, though. It would probably be best to talk about it with him before you cross that bridge but it’s never been one of your stronger areas, so you leave it be for now.

“Are you alright?” Your friend questions, tilting her head in so you can hear her against the thumping music of the club. Your friends had insisted on dragging you out for a bachelorette party the second they hard of your engagement and it would be out of character for you to refuse a night of drinks on them - even if you’d rather stay home and think about Harry and all the things you should’ve done when he was at your apartment. Getting drunk out of your mind does seem preferable to wallowing, though, now that you’re out and about and well on your way to getting smashed - so you turn to Olivia and nod once, a simple jerk of your head.

“I’m fine,” you tell her, reaching over to grab the cocktail Amy had gotten for you and bringing the straw to your lips. “Just thinking about Harry.”

Amy snorts from her spot across the booth, dipping her finger into her empty shot glass and licking up the droplet she collected. “Can’t believe it took you two so long to get together.”

“And I can’t believe you didn’t tell us about it,” interjects Olivia, reaching over to grab your glass out of your hand and taking a sip of your drink. “How long have you two been together again?”

Fuck. You’re in the grey area between being tipsy and being drunk and you can’t remember how long you and Harry had claimed to be together. Was it a year or two years? You think it’s a year - you’d wanted to go as low as possible with your answer. Did we say six months? That seems too low. “I’ve liked him since I’ve known him,” you answer instead, which is absolutely the truth, and Amy and Olivia are both too drunk to ponder about your evasion of the question. “Loved him, even.”

Your fingers brush against your phone, sitting on the table face down, as your friends playfully swoon - the last time you’d texted Harry was to tell him you were going to the club, and you hadn’t checked to see if he responded. It’s always been a habit between the two of you to text where you’re going, in case something happens, which seems oddly barbaric at times but you’ve always appreciated it.

“You’re so lucky,” Amy informs you, reaching across the booth to intertwine your fingers. She gets sappy when she’s drunk and you can tell from the distinct crack in her voice that she’s mere seconds away from bursting into tears and professing how much she loves you and Olivia - you don’t ever quite enjoy being around to see that. “I mean, really. You and Harry - we always knew it would happen -”

“I should call him real quick,” you mumble, watching as her eyes water over, and Olivia rolls her eyes with a grin as she scoots around the other side of the booth so Amy can throw her arms around her. You grab your phone and push yourself out of the booth, maneuvering through the crowd of people until you’ve reached the bathroom.

It's a single stall and the club is small enough that you only have to wait a minute or two before a thoroughly shitfaced woman stumbles out of the bathroom, a piece of toilet paper stuck to the bottom of her shoes, but she’s gone before you can point it out to her. You brush it off with a shrug and shut the door behind you once you’re inside the bathroom - it smells like Febreze and mint soap, and the scent of the mint reminds you of Harry’s breath and you really need to call him, don’t you.

You’re scrolling through your call log before you can wonder if calling your best friend who you’re in love with while you may be quite drunk is a bad idea - the phone is ringing just as you begin to - and he’s picked it up just when you realize you’ve made a mistake.

“Hey, babe,” Harry says from the other end, voice crackling with the poor reception in the club. He sounds groggy and raspy and you can tell you’ve either woken him up or he’s trying to go to sleep, and you don’t actually know what time it is, you realize. “What’re you up to?”

“I’m at a club,” you tell him, and you can hear his soft exhale of air and you can practically picture the slow smile spreading across his lips. “I’m out with Amy and Olivia - they wanted to take me out for a bachelorette party or something - s’kinda dumb, I dunno -”

“Are y’drunk? S’just, you’re slurrin’ a lot -”

“I’m tipsy,” as you sit back on the closed toilet seat, fingernails digging into your thigh. You don’t actually know what you’d called him to say but four days without talking to Harry seems like it’s setting some sort of record and you hate it. “Just wanted to call because - um - well, I miss you.”

For a second you think the call may have broken up - you can’t hear much beside his soft breathing, and you pull the phone away to check if it’s still connected. But then he sighs softly, and you’re quick to press your phone back to your ear. “I miss y’too, m’love - ‘course I do.”

“That’s sweet.” You hum softly, kicking your toes against the tiled bathroom floor. “I thought you might be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Dunno,” you shrug. “That’s why I was confused. But you haven’t texted me much.”

You can fucking sense him rolling his eyes. “Well, y’didn’t text me either. I thought you were mad at me -”

“I’ve been thinkin’ about what happened the other day,” you interject, and you know you wouldn’t be telling him this if you weren’t teetering more towards being drunk instead of tipsy, “and I really wanted to kiss you, you know. I mean, I thought you were going to - and then it didn’t happen.”

“Well, m’mum called.”

“Would you have done it if she didn’t?”

There’s a pause for only the briefest of seconds before Harry says, “‘Course I would have.”

Your heart flutters inside your chest and you lean your head back against the wall, nails digging further into your thigh and it’s difficult to hold back the grin that threatens to split your goddamn face in two. God, he would have. He would have kissed you - does he love you like how you love him? It seems fucking unreal, like something you’d dream up in your deepest sleep. You’d never thought Harry would ever feel the same way, even as you got a fucking marriage license together and planned out the dinner you’d eat after your elopement and -

You can’t think of a single other one of your friends who would fucking marry you for any reason, house or no house, life or death. And who would you do it for? Not Amy, not Olivia, even if they asked you nicely. It’s a commitment - a huge one - one that you wouldn’t be willing to do for anyone.

But you’d do it for Harry, in a heartbeat. You know you would. You’d have the fucking dress on before he could finish asking, and isn’t that what you had done, really? He hadn’t had to convince you much at all. You’d been willing from the get-go.

“Really?” Your voice is barely a breath, a soft exhale of air, reeking of the giddy joy you’re feeling at his proclamation. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Y’know I never lie to you.” Harry sounds nearly offended at the mere idea. “You are m’fiance. Comes with a code of conduct.”

You roll your eyes, and just then there’s a loud knock against the door - you jump violently, phone nearly slipping from your grasp. For a minute you’d forgotten you’re in a club bathroom and you know you’ve been here far too long to be appropriate - you’ll give yourself just one more minute to talk to Harry. “What about when we get divorced? Gonna lie to me then?”

“Always talkin’ about the divorce,” he murmurs, and his voice sounds so full of adoration that you’re nearly overwhelmed by it. “D’you have such little confidence about the strength of our relationship?”

If it were up to you, you’d be with Harry forever - but you can’t tell him that, not yet. “It’s not as though it’s a traditional relationship, you know. I don’t think most marriages that began for the sake of a house inheritance last too long,” you smile, feeling heat burning up your face even if he can’t see you. “Just generally speaking.”

“Hope y’got the statistics t’back that one up -”

Another louder knock shakes you again, and you jump up as though someone had set you aflame. Your phone nearly slips out of your clammy grasp once more and you clear your throat, lowering the device to your shoulder and calling, “Just a second!” to whoever’s waiting impatiently outside. You raise your phone back to your ear and clear your throat again. “I’ve gotta go, Har. I’m in the bathroom at the club - been in here a bit too long.”

“Aright,” Harry says, and you can hear soft shuffling from the other end, audio still crackled by the reception. “Breakfast tomorrow?”

You tilt your head to the side, scrunching your nose up before remembering he can’t see you. “I think it’s tradition for the bride and groom not to see each other before the wedding, isn’t it?”

“Now you’re a stickler for tradition?”

“I’ll see you at the courthouse, Har,” you tell him, before pulling the phone from your ear and hanging up. For a second you can’t move, staring down at Harry’s contact in your phone with a giddy grin that surely makes you look like some child in a candy store - and, in a way, you are - and it’s only a third knock at the bathroom door that has you scrambling out the door, giving an apologetic grin to the girl waiting impatiently.

 --

 Being married - for the record - doesn’t feel too much different than before.

There’s a shiny ring on your finger that Harry had bought, and when you glance across the table where he’s sitting, clutching his menu, you can see the similar wedding ring on his left hand - it’s simplistic and small and contrasts with the rest of his clunky rings and it makes you feel strangely warm inside when you spend too long looking at it. And, even after you and Harry had talked at the club, your ‘post-elopement’ dinner doesn’t feel entirely different than all of the other dinner dates you’d shared before the entire situation began. It’s familiar and sweet and his ankle is hooked around yours under the table, forcing a permanent heat onto your cheeks.

Harry rests his menu on the table, fingertips drumming against the laminated paper, and you similarly drop yours to look at him. “Think m’gonna get the spaghetti.”

It’s a testament to the slight air of awkwardness surrounding you both that the only thing he can think to talk about is the food he’s getting - but you’ll play along. “I like the raviolis,” you tell him. “Think I’ll get those.”

He hums softly, pushing his menu further into the table. “Can y’believe tha’ we’re married? I can’t. Seems so weird.”

“Doesn’t feel that different,” you disagree, toes tapping against his ankle beneath the table. “It’s not like we didn’t go out for dinner together before we got hitched.”

“We’re playin’ footsies under the table, babe.”

You grin down at your napkin, resting on your lap on top of your wedding dress. “Be careful or I’ll kick you, Har.”

His ankle tightens just a bit around yours beneath the table and you could watch that small smile spreading across his face for the rest of your life. “Y’wouldn’t dare - don’t y’love me?”

Yes, you do, so you resist the urge to unhook your ankle from around his and deliver a swift kick to his calf - just rest your palms on the table, scratching lightly at the rustic wood of the table. It’s hard for you to even pretend to be mad at him when all you can think about is how much you want to climb over the table and straddle him - as his wife you suppose it isn’t an insane thought, and you’re nearly certain he’s feeling the same way. Hadn’t he told you he would have kissed you if he hadn’t been called by Anne? Maybe you’ll get a chance to do it again - later. You’ll never give up the opportunity again.

“When d’you get t’move into the house?” Harry questions, leaning in just a bit in his seat. 

“A few months, I think.” You shrug. “Reckon I’ll start redecorating before then, though. I’m already looking at furniture - I’ve gotta save up for most of it, though. Might sell my apartment before then.” There’s a pause, and then you shrug once more, picking at a crack in the table. “I’ll probably move back in with my parents.”

Harry’s eyebrows are raised when you glance up at him, fingers paused in their drumming on the menu. “Are y’kidding? We’re married. You can move in wit’ me.”

“I can’t ask you to do that -”

“Not asking, are you? Even if we didn’t just elope at a courthouse, you’re still m’best friend. Can’t have you moving in t’your mum’s basement.”

You smile softly, flattening your palms against the table and craning your neck to examine the ring - proof that it had really happened, that you’re really married. It still doesn’t feel quite real, no matter how many times you and Harry casually talk about it. “Was gonna live in her attic, actually.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “I’ll pay f’the furniture, too. Don’t look at me like tha’ - s’our house. Needs t’be ready f’when we move in.”

You hesitate, trying poorly to conceal the way your grin is arching further upwards at the mere prospect of what he’s hinting at. Living with Harry? Jesus, even if you weren’t in love with him, living with him sounds like an absolute dream, only made better by your feelings for him. And picturing walking through an Ikea, searching for furniture, feeling his arm around your shoulders as you two look online for decorations - if heaven were a place on Earth, it would be your Aunt Alice’s estate, soon inhabited by you and your husband. “Well, we’ll talk about it, alright?” you land on as your response. 

For a moment, neither of you say anything, and the silence isn’t as stifling with awkwardness as it had been before. Then Harry reaches over, resting his hand overtop of yours, fingers instinctively intertwining, and your heart nearly splits itself in two - he initiated it, holding your hand, and maybe you shouldn’t feel so surprised but you can’t fucking help it. Your scalp is tingling and you swear your eyes are going to bubble over and his hand feels just as soft and beautiful as you’d expected - as you’d always dreamed of.

You’re not sure when, exactly, there would ever be a better time to tell him than now, so you clear your throat and squeeze his hand and confess, “I’ve liked you for a really long time, Har.”

Sharing your feelings isn’t necessarily your strongest spot but you’re feeling egged on by absolutely everything, and the way Harry brushes his thumb against your palm encourages you to continue. “I mean - since we met, basically - but I never told you. Never thought you would like me back.”

“I did,” he interjects, and you look up at him with furrowed brows. “Liked you back, I mean. Clearly - hope y’didn’t think I’d run off an’ marry anybody this fast.”

“I just thought you were being nice.”

“You’re silly, then.”

“A real idiot,” you proclaim, rubbing soft circles into the back of Harry’s hand, and you swear you’ll never let go unless someone fucking rips you away. “Guess I should’ve figured it out, then - seems like we did everything in the wrong order, right?”

Harry snorts, a noise that draws the slightest attention from an older couple sitting at a table beside you, but neither of you pay them any attention. “Get married first, fall in love second.”

“I was already in love,” and you’re not sure why, exactly, you had said that but it feels right and true falling off your tongue so you decide, pointedly, not to regret it.

There’s no hesitation when Harry responds, voice laced with the authenticity you’re so desperately craving - “Reckon I was, too.” You barely get a minute to process that and how it’s making your stomach do flips and turns like an Olympic medalist before he’s standing up, fingers still interlocked with yours to pull you up with him. “How d’you feel ‘bout a sleepover tonight?”

“A sleepover?”

He barely looks at you as he fishes through the pocket of his dress pants to pull out his wallet. “Not like we haven’t had them before.”

That’s true - you’ve slept over at Harry’s house so many times, it’s like a second home to you - but you have a distinct idea that, based off of your previous conversation and the wedding rings shining on both of your fingers, this sleepover will be just a bit different. 

“Skipping out on the reservation, then?” you question, squeezing Harry’s hand as he tosses a $50 onto the table - a significant overkill for your lemonade and his Coke but you suppose he’s feeling rather generous today. “I am rather hungry.”

“We’ll eat at my house,” he insists, leading you through the maze of tables with a grip that’s so tight, you wonder if he’s having the same qualms as you are about never letting go. “Y’like pizza, don’t you?”

 --

 You’ve been in Harry’s house more times than you can count, but it’s never been like this.

His hand is still firm in yours and it’s a feeling you adore - even if his palm has gotten clammier with every second, every step you took closer to his front door, and you can practically smell the nervousness rolling off of him. It’s not unlike the worry that’s overtaken you because you’re not quite sure what he’s expecting - only know what you want to happen and you pray to any god above that your desires align with his.

The sound of Harry shutting the door is the only crack of noise burning through the otherwise thick silence surrounding you. Neither of you had known what to say and the car ride was taken in comfortable silence, hands clasped and heads bobbing to soft music playing on the radio, but being in his house is different - there’s no music, no excuse for Harry to keep his eyes off of you, nowhere to lean your head and pretend to be resting your eyes while your heart uncontrollably thumps against your chest.

In ways, it’s better. Most ways, in fact.

Slowly, you turn to face Harry, fingers drumming against the back of his hand. His breathing is heavy and his eyes never leave yours, and you’re reminded remarkably of trying on your dress for the first time in front of him and your position hadn’t been too unlike this one - maybe now you can do it right.

It feels entirely natural, tilting your head up until you can easily slot your lips to Harry’s. They’re soft and plump and he kisses you back with a vigor you hadn’t quite expected - deepening it before you have the chance to react, his free hand that’s not clutching yours roaming to your neck and you can’t ignore the way your stomach flips at the feeling of his hand on your throat. But then his hand keeps moving up, palm pressing to your cheek in such a sweet gesture that doesn’t at all match the intensity with which he’s slipping his tongue into your mouth - your hand lands on his waist, gripping the flowy material of his dress shirt, pulling his body as close to yours as you can get.

You only pull away to catch your breath, grip tightening on his shirt to ensure he won’t move away - you need him close to you, need to feel his body against yours - the bulge near his thigh that you can feel against your pelvis, hardening with every second that passes.

“Why’d you move?” Harry questions, voice soft and vulnerable and you can’t help but lean up and land another kiss to his mouth. 

“Had to breathe, Har,” you murmur, smoothing your hands against his waist and the wrinkles you’ve surely created in the fabric. His fingers brush the edge of your jawline and you can feel your skin growing goosebumps beneath his touch.

He simply hums in response, ducking his head down to kiss you again. It’s sweeter this time, soft and fluffy but you don’t want that now - God, you want his hand around your neck and his knee between your thighs but perhaps that’ll have to wait for another time. You’re needy for just about anything you can get and if that’s sugary sweet kisses, a touch so gentle you could trick yourself into believing it isn’t there, then you’re more than grateful.

Harry’s teeth dig into your bottom lip, hard enough to have you moaning into his mouth and your nails dig into his through his shirt - the resulting whine into your mouth has you smirking against his lips, pushing your hips further into his. It’s the clearest way you can think of to tell him that you need him beyond kisses and touches.

“Jesus,” he breathes and you can feel his cock, twitching against your thigh and it’s a sensation you never thought you’d be able to experience outside of your deepest dreams - it feels twice as good as you’d imagined. “Gonna make me go crazy, babe.”

That’s exactly what you want.

“Hey,” and you pull away from him, his forehead dropping against yours, his breath still hot on your face, “don’t we have to fulfill the tradition of consummating the marriage?”

He laughs, a loud exhalation of air rather than his true barking laugh, but you smile anyway at the sound. “S’not the middle ages - no one’s expecting us to, if y’don’t want to.”

“Of course I want to.” Harry’s hand slides backwards into your hair, pulling the strands into a ponytail and tugging and your resulting moan has him smirking like a smug bastard against your lips. “God, Har. I really want to.”

It seems that that was the exact response he’d wanted - you get one last lingering kiss to your lips before Harry’s pulling away, hand falling away from your hair and other still interlocked with your own. You don’t have a second to question where, exactly, he’s leading you but then he’s tugging you through the foyer and down the halls and up the staircase you’ve grown to know so well - the trek to his bedroom has never seemed so viciously long until now, but by the time Harry swings open the door, you feel as though you’ve been walking for hours instead of barely a minute.

“On the bed, babe,” he directs you, all raspy tone and dominance lacing every last syllable and you can’t ignore the gush of arousal you can feel rushing straight to your core. It’s the stuff that makes up dreams, really, his fucking voice, and you know just the four simple words would be enough to get you off for years from now. “C’mon.”

You wouldn’t dream of disobeying - your footsteps are nearly completely silent on the carpet as you walk over to the end of Harry’s bed, pushing yourself up to sit on the plush duvet, sinking into the mattress that feels like an absolute cloud compared to the rock you’re used to sleeping on. For a brief second, he doesn’t move - just stands and stares at you, chest heaving through the baby blue dress shirt that your needy grasp had wrinkled. Then he moves, shutting the door with a barely perceptible click before making his way over to you, gazing up at him with heat blazing in your eyes.

Perhaps you’re expecting him to push you onto the bed, to fulfill the dominant tone he’d held before, so it is a bit of a surprise to see your best friend (your husband) dropping to his knees before you, fingertips ever so gently trailing up and down your calves.

The bedroom is so silent, save for your panting breaths and Harry’s shaky ones and you reckon he may be more nervous than you are - you’d expected him to handle all of the confidence between you two but his fingers are shaking as he pulls off your heels, resting them side by side on the carpet at the end of the bed. Chills crop up over your skin as his gentle touch roams up your legs, landing on your knee, and your breath hitches in your throat as the man you’ve loved for nearly 5 years leans in, lips landing a soft kiss to the top of your calf.

This isn’t what you had expected - him fucking worshipping you, on his knees - you’d never pictured it in a million years. And maybe it’s proof of the difference between him and the other guys you’d been with - your ex-boyfriends and flings had always been worried about their pleasure, never paying you any attention, and Harry couldn’t be closer to the end of the spectrum. Your entire body feels warm beneath his watchful gaze and touch, how he brings one hand up to snap firmly when your eyes flutter shut. 

“Look at me,” Harry directs, and despite the slight strain in his actions, his words still hold a never-faltering dominance that he’d had before. “C’mon, babe. I don’ want you to look away from me - can y’do that?”

It’s a task that’s easier said than done, but you nod anyway, swallowing thickly as Harry redirects his attention back to your legs. His hand, resting delicately on your left knee as though you’d break if he put too much pressure, slides down the length of your leg until he’s grasping your ankle, kneading the soft skin in his grasp while his lips linger at the top of your knee.

Using his grip on your ankle, Harry hoists your leg up onto the bed without warning, your toes digging into the end of the bed - uses his other hand to push your thigh outward so you’re on display for him like a goddamn feast and his smug grin proves that he can see just how wet you are, soaking through the white lace panties you’d chosen for the occasion. Heat blooms up your cheeks as he presses an open mouthed kiss to your thigh, teeth grazing your soft skin, and then he gives a dramatic inhale and - that’s -

You reach down, bracing both palms on the side of his face and forcing your husband (husband!) to look at you in the eye. He looks confused by your interjection and apologetic and that isn’t what you were going for but you hadn’t expected him to want to eat you out - most guys didn’t.

“You don’t have to do that, Har,” you murmur, giving a pointed glance to your lap that he’s been eyeing like it’s his dessert. “I won’t be mad.”

And Harry looks almost offended by the prospect of not wanting to, like you’d insulted him - “I want to. D’you not want me to?”

“Yes,” you reply, your voice hardly above a breath, and when he begins to pull away you continue. “No! I mean - yes, I want you to.”

He grins, wide and toothy and reminding you of exactly why you’d fallen for him in the first place, and you settle back into your spot on the bed with your nerves almost completely eradicated. He wants to - he’s not doing it because he feels obligated - it’s already a step up from any other guy you’d ever been with.

Fingers trail up your thighs as Harry’s lips close around the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, cheeks hollowing as he sucks a deep purple hickey, and you lift your hips just a bit so he can hook his fingers in the waistband of your panties and begin to tug them down. The crotch area is practically dripping with your arousal and it takes a bit more force to tug it away from your cunt but once they’re gone, Harry grabs your ankle again and straightens out your leg, making it easier for him to tug the offending material down your body and toss them away from the bed before resting your foot back on the edge.

You can hear his shaky breathing as he pulls his lips away from your thigh, thumb smoothing over the mark he’d left as if to prove it exists. You’d get it fucking tattooed if you could - to forever commemorate this experience - his mark in such a secretive place, just a breath away from where you need him most.

“Jus’ - jus’ tell me if y’want me t’stop,” Harry tells you, eyes interlocking with yours once more, and you jerk your head up and down once. “Lean back f’me, then - not too far, jus’ a bit - still need t’see you.”

So you lean back, propping yourself up on your arms, a barely reclined position from how you’d been sitting before. It’s easier to see him as he grabs the hem of your dress, tugs it up just a bit, but when you lift your hips so he can pull it out from under your ass he doesn’t comply - well, perhaps he has other plans with it, doesn’t want the dress to come off just yet, and you can respect that.

The time it takes for Harry to duck his head beneath your dress, tongue flicking against your overly sensitive folds, seems like fucking years even if it’s hardly a second, but when he does your hips instinctively jerk forward into his mouth. His eyes are flashing when he looks up at you and you breathe out a stream of apologies, heart thumping in your chest, fingernails digging into the comforter beneath you. “Don’ move,” he directs, and you nod again and again and you don’t stop until his lips close in around your clit.

Your head drops back with a low moan as Harry’s teeth graze your clit, cheeks hollowing as he sucks the sensitive nub like it’s what he was born to do. The bottom of your dress covers the top of his head so you can’t see what he’s doing - you have no idea what his next move is and it makes the pleasure rolling through your body that much better.

“Fuck - fuck, Har -” the only two words you can think to moan roll off your tongue like a mantra, your back arching upwards despite his warning not to move but he doesn’t mention it - just drags one hand up, fingertips light and dancing on your thighs until he can splay his forearm across your lower stomach, effectively pinning you to the bed. Your hand moves from digging into the sheets to digging into his scalp, tugging at the loose strands of hair that smell ever so slightly of gel and it makes your heart swell to imagine him putting product in his hair for the elopement - but before you have time to dwell on the sweetness of the sentiment, that talented tongue is licking a thin stripe up your folds before flicking your clit and you’re brought back to reality. “Fuck.”

“Feel good?” Harry mumbles, muffled where his face is pressed firm to your pussy and the vibrations of his words reverberate against your clit, sending a chill up your spine, and you let out a low whine at the sensation. 

“Yes,” you breathe in return, tugging at his hair just a bit, the strands forming a makeshift ponytail like he’d done to you before. “Feels so good, Harry, god -”

His head pulls back just a bit, hem of your dress dropping to just the tip of his nose so you can see his eyes - smug and glinting and you’re sure that, if you could see his mouth, those lips would be upturned into a smirk and practically dripping with your arousal - but he goes back in just as soon as he’d pulled out, burying his face in the apex of your thighs and you collapse back against the bed with a shout.

Whatever order he’d given you to maintain eye contact disappears. It isn’t as though you can see his eyes anyway, and you couldn’t stop yours from rolling back into your head if you tried. Ecstasy rolls through your body and, God, you know you’re close already, thighs tensing under where Harry’s palm kneads the soft skin, hard enough that you’re sure you’ll see bruises tomorrow. Your cunt clenches and flutters around the emptiness you’re yearning to get rid of and your back arches up again, Harry’s restraint on your torso not enough to stop it now, and you’re so fucking close.

“Harry -” you moan, digging your fingernails into Harry’s scalp and relishing in his responding moan to your clit - “gonna cum, Har -”

He doesn’t say anything - but you can feel his tongue continuing its work, up and down your folds and circling your clit and that’s response enough. Your hips jerk into his face, back arching as you grasp his hair tight enough that it has to fucking hurt but then you’re cumming and -

“Oh, fuck!”

Your voice is high pitched, cracked with a desperate sob right in the middle of your words before you’re holding Harry’s head to your pussy, his tongue working your clit like he was born for it, his low moans muffled against you. The hand previously holding down your torso slides up your body until he can shove his hand into the top of your dress, tugging it down so your chest is. He plucks at your nipple before grasping your tit, full in his palm, and the added stimulation prolongs your orgasm, hips rolling against Harry’s working mouth.

You can’t see straight when Harry pulls his head out from the bottom of your chest but when your vision focuses you’re beyond thankful. His chin is glistening with your arousal, tongue poking out to lap at the moisture on his lips and he dons that shit-eating grin you’ve grown to know so well. You usually see it when he wins a board game or when you’re celebrating something - seeing it on his face after he’s finished giving you the best orgasm you’ve ever gotten is certainly different but not unwelcome by anyone’s standards.

There’s a second where all you do is lie back and catch your breath - staring up at the ceiling above you, chest heaving as the aftershocks race through your body. Harry, meanwhile, pushes himself to his feet, muttering a small groan about God, m’fuckin knees and gettin’ too old for this, aren’t I?

Lazily you hold your hand out towards him, wiggling your fingers, and he reaches out to interlock your fingers again. “How was that?” he questions, voice soft and almost insecure and it’s a sharp contrast from the dominance he held before, but you know it’ll come back.

“I think you’re a natural at that, Mr. Styles,” you tell him, squeezing his hand in reassurance as you pull him closer to you until his knees hit the bed and he’s forced to collapse on top of you, grin cracking onto his face. “Gonna undress me?”

“‘Course,” Harry murmurs, leaning down to place a brief kiss to your lips, but before you can lift your head to deepen it he’s rolling off of you, shifting onto his side and shuffling upwards so his head rests on the stack of pillows. You raise your eyebrows at him - it isn’t as though he can take your dress off from that position - but, as though he can read your mind, he raises his hand and pats his lower stomach pointedly. “Climb up, babe.”

For what seems like the millionth time today, you can feel heat pulsing in your cheeks but you hope it doesn’t show - just sit up, swing your legs around so you’re straddling Harry, hands on his chest and gazing down at him like the God he seems to be. His hair is splayed out on the pillows beneath him, bottom lip tugged between his teeth, and you can’t help yourself - lean down to land your lips to his again, and this time both of you allow it to deepen. His hand starts at your cheek like it had before but you reach for it, fingers wrapping around his wrist and maneuvering it downwards until his palm is wrapped around the column of your throat, and he squeezes once experimentally.

You moan softly, hips rolling against the pointed bulge in his dress pants, and Harry’s eyebrows raise. “No fuckin’ way,” he breathes, squeezing again just to hear the way your breath catches. “Gonna be th’fuckin’ death f’me.”

You’re fine with that, and you reckon he is too.

You reach behind you, tapping along your back until you can reach the zipper. You’ve only tugged it down an inch or two before Harry’s free hand replaces yours, dragging the zipper down as far as it can go before reaching for the bottom of the dress. It’s gone in an instant - tossed off the edge of the bed, to be worried about later - and you can feel his fingers fumbling with the clasp of your bra before it comes undone, and then you’re naked.

You’d expected yourself to feel more embarrassed, or perhaps just nervous, and maybe it’s the effects of your previous orgasm but you’re feeling surprisingly calm - or maybe it’s how Harry looks up at you like you’re some sort of goddess sent from above, as though he’s never seen anything more beautiful.

It does wonders for your self esteem, truthfully.

“Gonna undress me, then?” Harry questions, hands smoothing up and down your thighs, eyes drinking in every bit of your exposed body on top of him.

You hum softly, pinching at the soft material of his shirt. “I don’t think so - want you to fuck me in your fancy clothes.”

“Well, if I’d known tha’ was an option -”

“Do you want me to put the dress back on?”

“No!”

You grin down at him before rolling your hips over his again, and it’s the last thing you manage to do before his grip lands on your hips and he’s flipping you over - your head lands dangerously close to hitting the headboard but it’s worth it, seeing him above you, fully clothed, pupils lust-blown and wide.

It hardly takes a second for Harry to undo the button to his pants and the sound of the zipper being undone is like music to your fucking ears - you spread your legs, letting him slot his body between them and oh, you can feel the tip of his fucking cock it’s right there and -

The first movement, Harry pushing himself inside of you, has you throwing your head back against the pillow, the moan coming from your throat mixing with a cry. He’s big - certainly bigger than you’d ever expected and bigger than any guy you’d been with - feels like he could split you in half if he wanted to but he stops, hands smoothing up and down your body, and you make a point of reaching for his hand and interlocking your fingers.

You’ll never grow tired of holding his hand, you think. Not for a while, anyway.

“How’re you doin’?” he questions, voice strained, and when your eyes shift back to him you can see the droplets of sweat beaded on his face. “Jus’ - jus’ tell me when, alright?”

“When,” you breathe almost immediately. You hadn’t needed too much time to adjust but you need him to move - you’re so pent up and you know it won’t take long to take you to your second orgasm but, God, he needs to fucking move. “Please, Har - please, fuck me.”

It doesn’t seem he needed much more encouragement than that. With one final move of wrapping his free hand firm around your neck and giving another small squeeze, Harry pulls out agonizingly slowly until just the tip of his cock remains in your heat. Just as you open your mouth to beg him to move again he slams back in with a force you hadn’t anticipated, your body rocking backwards of its own accord with the weight behind the thrust.

It’s exactly what you’d needed, though - fast and rough and his hand, cutting off your airflow just a bit, just enough to have you quivering beneath him. The low groan that rips out of his throat, reverberating through the humid bedroom has you pushing your hips up to his, trying to deepen where he’s buried inside of you to the hilt but you’re not sure how much deeper he could get. Feels like he could split you in half with every desperate thrust, every rut of his hips into yours and yours back into his.

“Oh - god - m’fuckin’ good girl, so tight around m’cock -”

Another rush of arousal gushes straight to your core with his filthy words and your head falls back into the pillow with a high whine, nails digging into the back of his hand as his other one tightens grip around your neck. It makes every desperate moan and cry that much airier and you can tell Harry likes it, staring down at you as his hips pound yours with absolutely no mercy and you don’t want any, anyway. It’s the subject of every single fantasy you’ve ever had about him, rough and hard and the sound of skin slapping skin overpowering your needy noises.

You’d never dreamt it would feel so good.

“Oh god, Harry!” Your eyes are rolling back into your head as your free hand trails down your stomach, shaking fingers focusing on your ignored clit and beginning tight circles around the nub. The jolts of pleasure that run through your body are - god, fucking amazing and you know you’re close, hardly need anything else to tip you over the edge. “Gonna - gonna cum, Har -”

It’s a testament to, perhaps, the long-growing tension between the two of you that his head drops backwards with a cry of me, too in a tone that’s so desperately vulnerable and it’s exactly what you’d needed - the reminder, in the midst of the rough thrusts and desperate moans, that this isn’t a one time thing. If you both allow it, it’s the rest of your life, just like this - and, God, you’ll allow it.

Your cunt clenches around your cock as you cum, eyes rolling back into your head and body spasming beneath him. In the midst of it Harry pulls out and you don’t get a second to question the sudden emptiness before you feel a familiar warmth hitting your lower stomach, and you open your eyes in time to see your husband, hand working at his cock as ribbons of cum spurt onto your stomach.

(You think you could cum again just from the sight but - well, you’ll hold back.)

His breathing is choppy and desperate, broken occasionally by a needy moan until he’s finished and he collapses on his back beside you, hands still intertwined with no intention of letting go. Nothing needs to be said - not yet - not for a little while, where you’ll talk about it more. 

A little while ends up merely being a minute or two before Harry swings his legs over the edge of the bed, hand still clasped in yours, and makes to stand up - it’s only your tightening grasp on his hand that forces him to stop, glancing behind him to look at you.

“Don’t,” you plead, throat already feeling sore and voice raspy. “Just - another minute, alright? Then clean up.”

He hums softly but you know he won’t resist the prospect of just a brief cuddle - one of the few things you hadn’t done often when you were just friends, because you knew that, if Harry held you as close to him as he is now, lips pressed to your forehead, you wouldn’t be able to resist telling him how you felt about him.

Doesn’t matter now, though. And his arms feel so warm around you, clammy palm still pressed to yours like a fucking couple in middle school but you wouldn’t dream of letting go. It’s all so - so peaceful, lying with him and listening to his heartbeat as you rest your head to his chest, listening to his heartbeat thumping as fast and hard as yours is.

And - well. Barely a month ago you were convinced your Aunt Alice was the worst woman in the world - a hypocrite and an asshole, set out to taunt you by lording your dream home over you and snatching it away when you couldn’t find a husband in time. But now? Feeling Harry, landing soft kisses again and again to your forehead, you figure she’s not so bad, after all.

[erensangel444]

vibrating cock ring w yuuji

just a quick little blurb, i literally wrote this on my phone in 10 minutes<3

yuuji was crying out, his voice hoarse. moans were flying from his lips freely, his hips thrusting up to get more friction from your hand. his cock was lubed up, precum smearing across his tip.

"p-please! need it, need it off!" yuuji pleaded. a black cock ring sat on the base of his cock, the metal shining under the dim light of the bedroom.

yuuji had been a brat all day, seemingly forgetting his place. you had gone out to lunch, itadori's hand brushing up and down your thigh, inching too close to your panties throughout the entirety of your meal.

he had whispered in your ear, teasing you about how he had you crying last night. "you looked so pretty, crying on my cock," his lips brushed against your ear, his hand still on your thigh. "i could've gone for a couple more rounds, but i guess i wore you out, huh?"

yuuji's words from earlier landed him in his current predicament, right on the edge but unable to reach his high. "please! fuck i'm sorry!" yuuji whined out, tears forming on his lash line.

"we're just testing your endurance, puppy," you smiled up at him, "thought you could last a couple rounds?" yuuji was breathing shakily now, his chest blooming a slight pink color, heaving up and down.

"you're this desperate just from my hand? it's fucking pathetic," itadori was reeling at your words, moaning explicits loudly. "haven't even gotten to the best part yet, baby," you teased, pulling your phone from your pocket.

the device began to vibrate, yuuji sucking in a deep breath at the sensation. "oh my-fuck!" yuuji's cheeks were tinged a pretty pink, his eyes peering down at your hand stroking his length, tears streaking his cheeks.

"close?" you said simply, jutting your tongue out to lick at the arousal oozing from the tip of yuuji's cock. "s-so, so-" itadori stuttered over his words, squeezing his eyes shut.

"say sorry," you demanded, stroking him faster. "g-god! i-i'm sorry, i'm so sorry! jus-just wanna cum!" itadori rambled. "so good for me," you praised.

your fingers pressed against the screen of your phone, pausing the vibrations. you moved your hand off of yuuji's cock, laughing softly at the slight twitch of his member.

you sat up from the floor, leaning over to kiss along yuuji's neck making your way up his ear. "gonna make you feel so good, yeah?" yuuji nodded, letting out a soft 'mhm'.

your hands grabbed onto the metal of the cock ring, lifting it off of itadori's cock. the circumference of the cock ring squeezed against the girth of itadori's length. you set the device beside yuuji on the bed, finding your way back onto your knees.

you smiled up at itadori, his hips thrusting up into the air, searching for some, any kind of friction. "calm down," you laughed softly, bringing your hand back on yuuji's cock.

he shivered at the contact, his bottom lip tucked under his teeth. "wan-want your mouth, please!" yuuji begged, looking down at you. "since you asked so nicely," you teased, your lips locking around the yuuji's cock.

saliva coated yuuji's length, itadori moaning loudly from above you. "go-gonna cum already!" itadori blubbers, whimpering. you moaned around his cock, a subtle form of permission. yuuji's hips lifted from the bed in a shaky pattern, once, twice, before his load hit the back of your throat. his warm cum coated your tongue as you pulled off of yuuji's cock.

"that was pretty shit endurance if you ask me"

[nyancatkuroo]

Hot Neighbor Sakusa x Y/n

Here it is!  My first Miki Mouse Whorehouse collab. 

Many first times this time around, my first omi-omi fic ever, first fic published on this blog and it’s all very exciting.  

BEWARE THOUGH, this is a dark fic so many TW’s to come.

You can thank @undermattsun​ for what you’re about to read, my eyes are still very much burning but, huh, enjoy!  

Choose who to lewd next, from a selection of many other characters and fandoms. I’m just one of many whores who contributed to this collab!

Pairing: Neighbor Sakusa x Y/N

WC: 1.5k

TW: Deepthroating, spitting, hitting (slight pushes), hair pulling, feet sucking, just a whole lotta sucking my guy, oral sex m! receiving.  

A/N: I may or may not have had too much fun talking about crocs and that toe sucking scene may or may not have awakened something in me.

“Fuck! I can’t believe I’m out of eggs too!”

You close the cabinet door and sigh,  that’s just like you to be out of just about anything you need to bake some carrot muffins.  Sure, you got the carrots, but what about eggs and some flour?  As you stand in your kitchen, empty bowls and unpeeled carrots around you, you think of what to do.  

The market is a mere 10 minute walk from your apartment but going out at 8pm on a winter night, where the sun is long gone and the cold is colder than ever, is not something you feel like doing.  You shiver at the thought and scratch your head, at a loss for ideas when your phone pings, startling you from your thoughts.  

You see it’s a message from Sakusa, your next door neighbor, who says to keep it down.  You blush as you realize your earlier scream must’ve been louder than you thought, the whole dorm floor might have very well heard you.  As you’re typing out a response, you get an idea.  

To Sakusucks

Yeah wtv, bring me some eggs I’m all out

From Sakusucks

Not happening.

To Sakusucks

BOOOO

I still have those baby wipes you lent me at school the other day

so fresh 

so clean 

Before you even have time to send yet another annoying message, you hear your front door opening and see Sakusa in your living room, as much as a dorm room allows you to have one at least.  

“This place gets more disgusting every time I come.”

You look around, eyeing the scattered plates and textbooks around the room and - wait, is that a moldy piece of cheese on the floor?  How is that even possible, you wonder, before your eyes meet Sakusa’s disgusted face, which happens to also be eyeing the moldy piece of food.  

“Yeah anyways, where are my eggs?”  You say, hoping it’ll stop the man from commenting on the moldy cheese.

“What?”

“My eggs, you know, that stuff that comes out of a chicken’s butt or whatever.”

At that, Sakusa eyes you from top to bottom, a scrutinizing stare that sends shivers down your spine.  You see the dark haired boy walking to meet you and smile innocently his way.  What you don’t see coming though, is his finger, until it’s already down your throat.  You choke on the foreign object having entered your mouth and feel yourself gag.   

Sakusa adds a second finger, then a third, as you suck and choke on the spiker’s hand.  You feel yourself blush under Sakusa’s unimpressed stare and remember how you were able to suck on four fingers the last time the boy came over.  The thought of Sakusa’s dick in your mouth, for a ‘cleaning session’ the curly-haired man would say, makes a familiar warmth curl its way down your stomach and you feel your mouth going slack.  

“You forget your place, you nasty fucking whore,” he berates. You moan and suck harder on Sakusa’s fingers, as he slowly takes them out of your mouth and wipes his hand on your hair before pulling at it, bringing you down on your knees.    

Cheeks flushed, breath still ragged from the fingers down your throat, you look up to see Sakusa’s annoyed face.  You can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips at his words.

“Look at you, you’re a mess.”  He smirks before letting go of your hair, showing you his still wet hand, “see what you did, you dirty slut, how should I punish you for making me dirty?”

You feel the spiker’s hand making its way back to the top of your head and feel a forceful tug that sends your face crashing against the hard floor.  

“Take off my shoe.”  Your eyes widen as his words sink in, “Or am I gonna have to make you?”

You look down at the feet in front of you, Sakusa’s toes hidden by his sock and sandals.  “I can’t believe I’m gonna suck toes for a man who wears crocs with cleaning supplies jibbitz on them,” you find yourself thinking.  

Sakusa catches on and mistakes your break in action for hesitancy.  “I took a shower 20 minutes ago, not that you should worry about that seeing the state of this place.”

You quickly shake off the crocs’ thought and take off the man’s right shoe and sock.  As Sakusa rests his back on your kitchen counter, you take his foot, gulp and start licking his toes, from the big toe to the little one, taking your time to suck between each toe as well.  You moan and slurp, quickly getting into it, thinking of it as Sakusa’s bulging shaft, which you see becoming harder and bigger through the fabric of his grey joggers.  

You hear Sakusa humming appreciatively and look up, a mouthful of foot deep down your throat. You start nibbling on Sakusa's toes, in an attempt to please him more, which you apparently succeed in doing, going by the moan that escapes his lips.  

Back resting against your kitchen counter, you see Sakusa open his eyes, hooded lids searching the distance, an easy smile on his face that is quick to disappear when he catches your eyes.  He takes his foot, leaving your mouth feeling weirdly empty, and pushes your face away with the foot that was in your mouth moments ago.  He wipes himself on you again, this time on your bare thigh, seeing as you’re wearing some short shorts. 

He leaves your side and goes to sit on the couch at the other side of the room.  He takes off his remaining footwear before sitting down, his legs spread wide as both a confirmation that he isn’t done playing with you, and for comfort, seeing how his crotch area has visibly tightened.  

You bite your lips, eyeing the very desirable man in front of you, and make your way to the sofa.  You sit next to Sakusa and firmly press your hand to his crotch.  You hear the spiker groan, sending you an aggravated look that only makes you smile as you quickly slide a hand down his pants, taking his already hard cock out of its clothed prison.

You lick your lips at the sight of the pinkish head, ideas already forming in your head, but before you have time to act on any of your dark thoughts, you hear Sakusa call your name.  You lock eyes and feel him taking your hand, which he kisses before slowly sucking off every single one of your fingers. You only take your eyes away from the man when you feel him spit in the palm of your hand.  

You take that as your cue to start massaging his erection, going up and down his entirety with your hand, pumping faster and playing with the head of his cock until it isn’t enough anymore.  

You get off the couch and settle comfortably between the man’s open legs before taking him in your mouth.  You feel full again, now that you have something in your mouth to play with, and start sucking Sakusa off, pumping with your hand at the same time.  

You hear him whispering some sweet curses at you and moan from the validation.  You feel Sakusa gripping at your hair once again, pulling hard to make you face him.  He grips your head with his hand and forcefully opens your mouth with his thumb, positioning himself to face you, and then spits in your mouth before shoving your face back on his dick, which you gratefully welcome back into your mouth, this time letting him use you like a ragdoll.  

You hear yourself gurgling and gagging at each of Sakusa’s furious thrusts, but never deep enough to make you spill your insides out, the dark-haired boy taking his dick in and out of your orifice to let you have a half second of a moment’s rest before fucking your face anew.  

He’s close, you feel it by the way his dick is twitching in your mouth and you scrape your teeth against his shaft to bring him closer to the edge.  Sakusa thrusts deeper and faster, fukcing your face numb until he comes inside of you with a grunt.  He pushes you off of him and finishes by pumping himself dry, coming on the floor, and before he even commands you to clean it off with your tongue, you find yourself on your knees, licking the ground like a famished dog.  

Before you have time to process any new information, you feel the spiker taking you from the floor and placing you on the couch, brushing your hair with his hands and placing a forehead kiss on you, whispering a ‘you did well cleaning me off today’ before getting up to leave.  You didn’t even notice him putting his shoes back on, dick nowhere in sight either.  You feel your eyes close as you hear Sakusa’s voice.  

“Oh and before I forget, I don’t have eggs either.”

The spiker’s words are left hanging in the air, your head still hazy from the cleaning the man just gave you.  You want to answer, but your words are lost to fatigue and you barely hear the door of the apartment closing.  You may not have gotten what you wanted, but Sakusa didn’t get his baby wipes either.  None of that matters though, you think, as you end up falling asleep on your couch, a filfthy fucking mess.    

[apocalypticbadass]

Sapphic Vampire Lovers (Smut)

A/N: Hey guysss it’s Alice smut time. Haven't been able to get the woman out of my head recently so here are my musings. You live with the Cullens and Alice is your girlfriend, but no one at school knows. You’re basically an adopted sibling so I might refer to the kiddos as your brother/sister. Also I’m not saying Alice can't see the future in this but like...lowkey...it’s hard as hell to write for her when she already knows everything lol.

Warnings: Smut, cursing, I think that’s it.

----

You sighed loudly as Mike Newton continued to prattle on about unimportant matters by your side. The bell signaled the beginning of class, and you feigned an apologetic look, which Mike believed wholeheartedly as he scurried to his seat. Poor boy. You turned to Emmett, your “brother” who sat next to you in Chem.

“He doesn’t give up, does he?” Emmett snickered.

You shook your head and sighed. “Oh shut it, Em.”

“You should just turn him away at this point. It’s going too far. Alice is starting to really notice.”

“Wait actually? She can’t possibly think I would ever pick Mike Newton over her.” You replied, getting quite nervous that Alice might be upset with you.

“I’m just sayin’. He’s always flirting with you, the last thing you want is for Alice to get the wrong idea.” “Yeah, you're right. Thanks Em.”

He smiled at you and ruffled your hair before you both turned towards the front to pay some attention to your teacher. You couldn’t sit still for the entirety of class, Emmett kept having to pull your hands out of your mouth to stop you from biting your nails or rest his hand on your knee to keep your leg from bouncing. The bell rang after a painfully long class, and all you wanted was to get out of there. It was the last period of the day, so you and Emmett grabbed your things and booked it out of class, he understood your desire to leave. What the both of you had missed while you were too busy worrying about your anxiety, was that Mike Newton had left class 10 minutes early with Eric Yorkie and Tyler Crowley. How Emmett’s incredible hearing and sight had missed that, you’ll never know. Or maybe he just thought it was unimportant. The rest of your family caught up with you, and Alice linked her arm in yours.

“Hi baby.” She said with a smile.

“Hi Ali.” You answered, nuzzling into her shoulder as you walked.

As you all got closer to the parking lot, Emmett gasped. “Oh my fucking God...”

“Oh Jesus, here we go.” Rosalie sighed.

Draped across the side of Mike’s minivan, made of canvas and paint, was a sign that read “(Y/N), will you go to prom with me?”

You stopped dead in your tracks.

This could not be happening.

No way was this happening.

You turned, horrified, to look at Alice’s face. She was staring straight ahead, jaw set, eyes unreadable. You softly disconnected your arms and rushed over to Mike, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

He beamed as he saw your urgency. “So, what do you think?”

“Mike, take it down right now.” You pleaded. “I’m sorry but I won’t go to prom with you.”

His face fell as Eric and Tyler moved to take the sign down and save Mike a little bit of embarrassment.

“I’m sorry Mike, I have to go.”

“Yeah, no, it’s cool.” He said, rubbing the back of his head.

Your family was on your left and they were already getting into the car. Alice was at the back, and you grabbed her wrist while begging her to turn around and talk to you. “Alice, please, can we talk?”

“What is there to talk about?” She spat, venom in her voice. “Clearly you gave him a reason to think he should ask you. You’re very friendly, and I love that about you, but I think flirting with someone when you have a girlfriend is way too far.” “Alice you know I would never do that. You know how loyal I am to you, Mike could never hold a candle to you. I swear I’ve never flirted with him in my life, he’s just obsessed or something.” Your eyes shone with tears. “Please, baby. Trust me, not him. I swear on my life I only love you.”

You could see the slightest softening of her defensive exterior as your (y/e/c) eyes bore into her deep amber ones.

She stepped closer to you and sighed. “You’re right, I’m overreacting, I suppose. You haven’t given me any reason to believe that you’d flirt with him.” Alice placed her lips below your ear. “Unfortunately for you, you’ll have to pay for poor Mike’s mistake. I’ll have to remind you who you belong to, just incase you needed a refresher.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a blush creeping onto your cheeks since you knew that your family could hear you quite clearly from inside the car.

“I’ll meet you at home.” She said before turning on her heel to walk home, she’d be back before the rest of you.

You got in the car behind the passenger seat, head in your hands as Emmett laughed from the other side of the car. “What did I tell you?”

“Drop it, McCarty.” You glared at him.

“She’ll come around.” Jasper said, hand on your knee. “She’s not actually mad, just jealous that he can be so carefree with his feelings while you both have to hide yours.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Just sucks.” “At least you’ll get good sex out of it.” Rosalie said nonchalantly, looking at her nails, which she had painted last night.

“Get some!” Emmett cheered, which made you bust out laughing.

The car ride home was comfortably quiet, everyone else’s mind wandering to other things, Rosalie and Edward speaking to one another in a nearly inaudible tone.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach when you pulled up to the Cullen house, met by Alice leaning against her Porsche, arms folded neatly across her chest. Jasper squeezed your shoulder in encouragement, feeling your nerves flow, and eased your anxiety as best as he could, one last time. Alice got in the car before you could get over to her, and just before she shut the door, she gave you a “come hither” motion. You opened the passenger door and sat carefully inside of the car, careful not to track in any mud.

“Hi.” You said softly as she began to drive.

“Hello.”

You fell into silence, zoning out while looking out the window, wondering where the hell you were going. You tried very hard not to let her know how nervous you were, but the attempt was futile because she could hear your erratic heartbeat.

“Where exactly are we going?” You managed to say, in a calmer voice than you thought you could muster.

“You’ll see. It’ll be fun.” She said lightly, tossing you a wink.

20 minutes later, Alice pulled into a hotel parking lot, probably the fanciest building you had ever seen. You knew you were in Seattle, but had never been to this secluded area with these fancy buildings. You felt severely underdressed, the both of you casual, but her level of fashion much higher than yours, her walk far more graceful. She gave the keys to the valet as they pulled luggage out of the trunk. Alice took one bag for herself and handed one to you. She kept her hand on the small of your back and led you through the massive glass doors, which were opened for you of course. The gorgeous decor of the lobby kept your gaze until Alice had signed you both in.

“Come on now, love.” Her voice was like melted honey.

Your gaze flipped to her and you followed her to the elevator, where she pushed the button for the top floor. Your eyes went wide as you remembered peering up to the peak of the building and how high it was. As you stepped out, there was one single door in front of you. Alice swiftly unlocked it and ushered you inside, bolting the lock shut immediately. As you walked around in awe, you felt yourself being whisked away, vision blurring as Alice ran you both into the bedroom, where she tossed you onto the silk duvet. Her dainty, but incredibly strong hands pushed your shoulders back onto the bed. 

“What to do with you?” She pretended to think before pulling a pair of cuffs from behind her back. 

You bit your lip as you felt butterflies down below. Your wrists were in one of her hands in a second, cuffed to the headboard before you could even blink. “Are you going to be good for me, darling?”

“Yes baby, I will.”

“Good.” She muttered into your ear, tearing your shirt off to suck on the exposed skin of your breasts. All you wanted to do was tangle your fingers into her short hair as she marked your body. Your wrists audibly struggled against your confines and you groaned. Alice laughed. She tore your bra off in a fluid motion, gently worrying one of your nipples between her teeth.

You sucked in a breath. “Ali, please. Wanna touch you.”

She swiftly flipped you onto your stomach. “No ma’am. Not allowed.”

She then pulled your pants and underwear off in one go, leaving you completely exposed. Alice slid a finger towards your clit, circling it slowly. You whined and squirmed, so she ripped all contact away from you. You felt her cool breath at your ear and her disapproving tsk. “I thought you said you were going to be good for me.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll be good. I promise.”

“You better.” She replied, swiftly inserting one finger into your vagina. You took a sharp breath through your nose, trying to keep still. She curled her finger into your g-spot at an incredible pace, causing you to take a mouthful of the bedsheets to keep yourself quiet. She was pleasantly surprised at how good you were being, so she added another finger, scissoring you open. It took absolutely everything in you to just stay still and quiet.

Once you felt stretched enough, she placed a kiss at the base of your spine and retracted all contact, flashing across the room to grab a bag. You were unable to see this, but her clothes were off in an instant, and she had fastened one of her many straps around her hips. She’d chosen your favorite attachment, a hot pink dildo that measured around 7.5 inches. She leaned down to whisper in your ear while allowing the toy to nestle into the cleft of your butt.

“You’re not even gonna remember Mike Newton’s name after this.”

With that comment, she slid the tip of the toy into your entrance, slowly pushing into you, stretching you all the way out. “You can make noise now, love.” She purred.

Immediately, a string of profanities left your mouth. “Holy fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good inside me.”

After a few moments, you felt her icy hips hit your butt, felt her lips sucking marks onto your shoulder blades. “Move please, baby.” You whined, trying not to struggle against her. She pulled out of you slowly, and entered you once more. Taking her time, Alice picked up a pace that made your toes curl, she hit your g-spot every single time.

“Jesus fuck, Ali, God you’re so good. Feels so good, so fucking good, babygirl.” You babbled on as she drilled you into the bed at an inhuman pace, hands tangled into your hair.

“You just needed a little reminder, didn’t you, doll? Just needed to remember who you belong to. Mike Newton could never fuck you this good.” She growled, nipping at your earlobe. You wanted to make a sarcastic remark, but your words couldn't get past the way Alice was making you feel. Your clit gained some friction as each thrust pushed your body into the mattress a little further.

“Alice I’m so fucking close babes, please don’t fucking stop.” You cried out, the inferno in your stomach threatening release.

“Come for me, love.”

With her words, you came hard, squirting all over the duvet, leaving it soaked. Alice pushed all the way into you and stilled for a moment, relishing. “You were so good for me, babygirl. So beautiful.” She praised, pulling out of you and flipping you over.

“Wanna taste you.” You whined. “Sit on my face.”

Alice smirked at you and quickly unfastened the strap before positioning her dripping pussy over your mouth, settling softly with a moan. She had remained untouched until now, so the contact was quite welcome. “Christ, babe. Your mouth feels so good.”

Your tongue explored her walls, licking every surface, nose bumping her clit every so often. She leaned back and placed her hands on your thighs, squeezing them softly to get a grip. You moved to her clit, lips wrapping around it and drawing it into your mouth, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lover. You fervently continued, fully putting your mouth to work.

“Please, gonna come.” She rasped out, just before coating your face with her slick. “Oh my God, (y/n), so incredible.” Alice moaned while you continued to suck on her, drawing out her orgasm. You gazed at her with doe eyes from between her legs before she got off of you, reaching for the key to unlock your cuffs. She rubbed your wrists to soothe them before nuzzling into your neck and tangling her legs into yours.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over the way you taste.” You said after a few moments of silence.

Alice giggled. “I can absolutely say the same for you. That was amazing.”

“Totally. I love you. Sorry Mike asked me to prom.”

She let out a belly laugh, pulling you on top of her. “No need to apologize. I’m sorry for overreacting, quite dumb of me to be honest.”

“It upsets you that we can’t express our emotions for each other as freely as Mike can express his emotions for me.” “I just wish people could understand our love, understand that our gender is totally irrelevant.” She sighed, stroking your hips as she spoke. “I just love you so much and I wish I was able to show it in public without fear of something happening to you. God forbid anyone got violent.” “I know, baby, it’s really scary sometimes.” You cupped her face, stroking her cheekbone with one hand, combing through her hair with the other.

“I don’t want to say it, but you know what I’m thinking.” Alice whispered, expression growing serious.

“I’ve been thinking about it recently as well, I think we have to do it. Sometime soon, I want to be with you forever. We’ll set a date.”

Alice gave you a lopsided grin. “Can’t wait to be sapphic vampire lovers until the end of time.” 

You laughed, leaning down to kiss her. “Oh hell yeah.”

[thetaoofzoe]

Fic: Ethan Hunt Must Die 1/1

Pairing: August Walker x YOU

Word Count: 10,420

Summary: You are a medic and a member of what’s left of  The Apostles. And it’s not rumour anymore. August Walker is definitely not dead. All you want to do is help him with his cause, kill those responsible for his grave injuries (and foiling his manifesto) and make Ethan Hunt pay. Falling in love with August Walker is just a given ;)

Rating: Mature to Explicit some Violence, sex and fluff and yearning and impetuous kisses, explosions and delicious August Walker.  And, this story is not as serious as it may appear, so have fun reading.

Note: If you have been around you’ve seen the original iteration of this story, but maybe not in its entirety. It was originally broken up into 10 parts as A Month of August Walker Challenge. Now, in all of its revamped glory is the complete story all in one place.  

Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist

Your contact was a pleasant woman. She’d collected you from the tiny airport in Kashmir and on the way to your destination, she’d offered to buy snack food for you from a nearby shop.

‘The cabin is fully stocked,’ she reasoned pointing to the squat building by the side of the road, ‘but in case you want a Coke or something.’

You did want a Coke in fact and you took her up on the offer. Along with a few cans of cola you grabbed other items – chocolate bars, fishing tackle, and feminine hygiene products. You didn’t know how long you were going to be out there in the middle of nowhere, and you didn’t want to use up the precious bog roll when your cycle eventually came.

The woman was leaning against the side of the battered truck and smoking a cigarette when you stepped out of the shop. Eyeing your purchases, she nodded with approval.

‘Good idea,’ she said, making a vague gesture towards you with her cigarette. ‘We didn’t think about a woman’s needs during such a long excursion. Next time. There are all sorts of painkillers in the stocks though… just so you are aware.’

She put a gloved hand on her lower belly and laughed a little.

‘I know how it can get.’

You smiled, grateful to be sharing this moment with her, woman to woman, and thanked her before getting back into the truck.

‘Is there gonna be a next time?’ you asked, sweeping the seatbelt across your chest and clicking it into place.

She didn’t look at you as she started the truck and set off down the road.

‘I hope this is the last, ‘ she said finally and as it seemed like such a struggle for her to come up with an answer that she seemed satisfied with, you didn’t continue to press the matter.

Settling into the seat, you unwrapped a chocolate bar, and with three large bites, had it stuffed into your mouth. The salty chocolate and nougat were glorious and you moulded the sweet wad into the roof of your mouth so that you could savour it with slow licks.  You folded the plastic-coated wrapper into a small square and tucked it in your jacket pocket.

The woman drove along the rough frosty mountain roads as if you two were being chased. She didn’t seem at all phased with how the truck bounced and jumped dangerously close to the edge of the cliff, as if one wrong turn of the wheel wouldn’t send the two of you plunging down into the river below.

That imagery triggered sudden rage in you.

Goddamn you, Ethan Hunt, you thought.

You wanted just two minutes alone with Hunt to make him regret having ever laid eyes on August Walker. Hunt deserved nothing but a long slow torturous death.

Ever since the incident, The Apostles had been split on what to do regarding  August Walker. Should he be left out there and forgotten? Or should his remains be recovered and given a proper burial?

The thought that there was nothing left to recover prevailed until reports that August had survived the fall started trickling in. With this new knowledge, it was impossible to prevent the uprising that voted to scour the mountains to find him. This time, your only mission was to man the cabin in the event one of the search teams found him.

‘Not far to the cabin. Ayami is apart of the search team. You know her, yes?’ asked the woman.

‘Yes. I know her.’

‘Good, Ayami planned all of this, coordinated us, and was able to pinpoint a location not far from this cabin.’

Not enough planning for a menstrual cycle, you thought, petulantly.

‘It will work out,’ she continued and nodded. ‘He will be found.’

‘This is the third time someone has,’ you made inverted commas in the air with your fingers, ‘pinpointed his location, only to run into IMF lies. We are wasting precious time. August is alive and we need to find him.’

The woman drove on in silence for a moment.

‘I agree with you, yes. I agree. But what do you suggest that we do? If not this.’

You relented and sighed. You had no idea what to do other than this.

‘If I could snap my fingers…’

You clicked your fingers and she chuckled, clicking hers as well.

‘He would be safe with us,’ she finished for you.

A half hour later, she slowed and finally stopped the truck and pointed through the windscreen at what looked like a stack of fallen trees.

‘Unfortunately, my friend,’ she said. ‘There is a way to drive up to the cabin. However, it is many, many kilometres that way and petrol for me is hard to come by right. It’s easier to drop you here and you take the trail. It’s only a few hours hike.’

You grabbed your rucksack from the foot well, reached over and one-arm hugged the woman and then got out. She did a wide circle turn around and pulled the truck up to where you stood.

‘Good luck, my friend. And take care.’

‘Take care,’ you said. ‘See you soon.’

She gave you a two-fingered salute and drove away.

**

It was cold that far up in the mountains and the beginning of the trail looked desolate. Securing your rucksack on your back, you began your long trek, and the cabin was a welcome sight after hours of navigating the rocky hard terrain.  Inside was small and utilitarian, but it was more than enough for you. You didn’t bother to take off your boots before falling onto the cot and into a deep exhausted sleep.

In the morning, you took stock of your surroundings. The cabin was pretty well-appointed with a wood stove, a table with two chairs, an amazingly comfortable cot and stacks and stacks of supplies. The gold-painted metal ammo closet in the back was comforting to see and you were going to familarise yourself with its contents later. But first, breakfast.

You got up to make coffee and noticed a medium-sized cardboard box sitting on the small dining table by the stove. There was a note.

‘Your name was given to me at the last moment. Here are some things you may need.’

And it was signed, ‘Ayami’.

You slit open the box with your pocket knife and laughed when you saw the contents. Ayami had packaged not only tampons and pads but several different styles of menstrual cups for you and you felt guilty for earlier, being such a brat about the supplies you needed.

‘You planned everything, Ayami,’ you said aloud to the empty room. ‘Thank you.’

You lit the fire in the stove and put a pot on to boil some water. A noise outside pricked your ears. It sounded like the heavy motor of an ATV and out of the noise you picked out the sounds of other engines drawing closer.

Shit! you thought, rushing to the ammo closet at the back of the cabin.

Flinging open the doors, you dragged out a single barrel shotgun, loaded it, and scrambled back to the front cabin door. Peering out through the narrow window you watched as several four-wheelers and one battered Land Rover raced towards the cabin. In a cloud of kicked up dirt and dust, the Rover drove straight up to the door and to your absolute surprise, the passenger door popped open and Ayami jumped out.

You opened the cabin door and came out.

‘Good!’ she shouted over the noise of the engines. ‘You’re here. Get the first aid boxes ready, now!’

You were a medic and understood the urgency in her tone. You ran back to the cabin and were piling bandages, antiseptics, and other items on the table when three men carried in a limp body between them. Ayami strode across the room and captured you in a hug.

‘I am happy to see you,’ she gasped breathlessly and grabbed your hands. ‘We found him!’

With heart crashing against your ribs, you looked to the man being stretched on the cot as Ayami continued.

Oh God… they found him.

‘Somehow some wanderers discovered him months ago and took him in.’

She trailed off and shook her head. She still seemed to be in shock.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ you told her and squeezed her hands. ‘We’re looking after him now. Radio in for helicopter transport. It may take a few days to get someone out here.’

You cleaned your hands and went to assess the situation. August was alive and badly burned, but gladly not beyond your repair. Ayami came back into the cabin after making the call and joined you at the bed.

‘You planned all of this, Ayami,’ you said. ‘You made this happen. What’re our next step?’

Ayami put her hand on your shoulder and smiled viciously.

‘To make Ethan Hunt pay.’

**

You were wrong.

It didn’t take a few days for the helicopter to arrive. It took two weeks. Although the cabin was well stocked and had nearly everything you needed to tend to August’s wounds, it wasn’t enough.

Ayami wanted to leave and take August the long way through the mountains. They had the power to transport him over land and it was fucking stupid to leave him at the cabin to succumb to something that could be fixed. His body was fighting a raging infection and frankly, he was losing. You explained to her your reasons for why it would be tough on August to try to drive with him through such hard terrain.  He was in a fragile state and jostling him all around in an unstable car could exacerbate any internal injuries. A chopper ride would be better.

Ayami understood that, however…

‘We’ve got plenty of antibiotics,’ she said reasonably. ‘Why can’t we give him some?’

‘Because we don’t know what he has. He could have a bacterial or viral infection and just picking something to give him might do more harm than good. I don’t want to take that risk.’

It wasn’t as if you didn’t want to pump him full of all of the pills you had, just to scattershot the infection, but incorrectly dosing him, in his weakened state,   might kill him. August Walker was alive and you were going to keep him that way.

So you did your best. With Ayami’s help, you kept him clean and dry and in order to manage his temperature, iced. August, however, foiled your attempts to tend to him effectively. He was delirious and unaware of  what was happening to him. More than once you had to extract yourself from his vice-like grip as he held onto you and growled guttural threats of violence to your person. All you could do was try to soothe him and mop his brow and use the aspirin to dull his obvious pain.

**

During the wait for air transport, you stayed up some nights with August. Sometimes you just sat at his bedside and read by the light of your headlamp. Sometimes you just watched him, held his hand and stroked his hair when nightmares haunted his sleep.

He would heal pretty well, you observed, and, without too much lasting damage to his face. He was fortunate that the hot oil missed his eye, although it ruined his ear. But you knew that too could be reconstructed.

‘We’re gonna get you back on your feet, August,’ you murmured on those nights when he was at his most fitful. ‘And we’re gonna get those people who did this to you.’

Even though you weren’t sure he could even hear you speaking, you continued to encourage and comfort him.  It was the least you could do.

**

‘You met John Lark before?’ Ayami asked over breakfast one morning, using August’s real name for the first time.

‘When he was going by John Lark?’ you asked for clarification and she nodded. ‘No. Not then. He had already assumed the new identity and was in the CIA when I turned up.’

‘He was not always like this,’ she said a bit cryptically.

‘How was he?’

Interest sparked in you.

She shook her head.

‘Just different. Maybe he’ll tell you someday.’

Ayami smiled at you and you turned, alerted by the soft groan coming from the bed.

‘Oh God, he’s waking up again,’ she chuckled and then asked you, ‘Top or bottom.’

You laughed inspite of yourself and gave the choice a moment’s thought. ‘Top’ meant that you got to administer medication, clean up his face and check his bandages, while ‘bottom’ meant that you would have to wrestle with his strong flailing arms and risk getting punched in the face. Ayami looked at you expectantly and you grimaced.

‘I had top last time, so…’

She smiled and got up, patting your arm in passing. ‘Then you get top this time.’

‘Ayami, c’mon,’ you protested rising from the chair. ‘I don’t want to be unfair.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ she said lifting her arms and flexing her biceps. ‘But, I need my workout.’

**

Ayami needed to stay in Kashmir to tie up some loose ends. So, you said your farewells and parted company when the chopper transport finally arrived.

You, on the other hand, were headed to New Delhi where another contact would meet and relieve you of your August-sitting duties.

Exhausted and battered, it was just after midnight when you finally arrived at the airport.  Out through the cloudy bubble heli-window, you saw the second contact rush to the settling helicopter. You unlatched an dragged open the side door.

‘Hello!’ he shouted over the roar of the blades overhead. ‘It’s Janus. You can come with me!’

‘Where am I going?’ you shouted back, not moving from where you were sitting next to August’s prone body.

He was still blissfully unconscious and sleeping quietly.

‘There is a safehouse here. You can rest. We will transport Walker to the small plane over there and continue on to London.’

You shook your head and were able to speak normally when the blades finally shuddered to a stop.

‘I’ll go on,’ you told Janus. ‘I’ll go on, it’s ok. I’ll stay with him.’

Janus looked puzzled.

‘No, you are to go to the safe house. I am to continue on.’

You had come this far. You weren’t going to leave August, so you again declined the offer of a trade.

‘Now. Come on. I’m not going to quibble with you,’ you said, kicking open the other door so that the two men accompanying Janus could wrangle the stretcher out of the chopper.

You watched them carry August off and jumping out of the heli, you turned to Janus.

‘Be well, my friend. But I’ve got it.’

Janus shrugged a little and nodded, seeing that you weren’t going to be swayed.

‘Is it really him?’ he asked and you could hear relief seeping into his voice.

You put your arms around him in a farewell hug.

‘It is,’ you said. ‘You have Ayami to thank for that. Make sure that you do.’

You ran after the two men carrying the stretcher. The men secured the stretcher inside and turned to help you into the back of the plane. You pulled closed the small plane’s door and made sure that August was securely strapped in. It was going to be another long ride to the final safe house.

**

It was raining in London, and as the small plane approached, the cool precipitation rinsed away grey foggy clouds to reveal the golden city. Through your headset, you listened to the pilot talk to air traffic control and learned that you were headed to Blackbushe Airport.

‘How far is the safe house from the airport?’ you asked the pilot.

‘Not far. Maybe 20 kilometers. Not far.’  

You were so ready to put your feet on land that you closed your eyes and envisioned a soft bed, a hot meal, and an even hotter bath. Glancing down at the still sleeping man on the stretcher at your feet, you felt a rise of tender feelings in your heart. Not only had your team recovered August Walker, alive, but you had a personal hand in his convalescence.  Reaching down, you touched his face. He felt hot, but not as feverish as before and you were relieved. Elevated fevers for sustained periods of time were dangerous and although he wasn’t out of the woods yet, he was better. You brushed a curl of brown hair off of his forehead and smoothed the edge of your thumb across his eyebrow. Yes, he was going to heal well and regain his strength to be able to fight another day.

Blackbushe Airport was small but efficient and there was a black, solid paneled van waiting for you. You helped the men with the stretcher and once August had been secured, you pulled yourself into the offered front passenger seat.  The driver nodded to acknowledge your presence and you put on your seatbelt as the van drove off.

Someone tapping on the window jarred you from the nap you didn’t realise you had fallen into. With a wet grunt, you sat up, reflexively swiped the back of your hand across your mouth, and dried the drool which had pooled in the corner. Hand still to your mouth, you shifted to look through the window. It was the driver and he made a gesture for you to get out.

You nodded to show that you understood and he moved off. Behind you in the cargo part of the van, you could hear men talking and then sounds of strain when they lifted the stretcher. Even unconscious, August wasn’t for the weak or fainthearted. You chuckled at your own analogy, unclipped the seatbelt and opened the door. Your legs wobbled when your feet hit the ground and you pressed back against the closed door until you felt that you could walk without collapsing. It took a while for your legs to finally firm and when they did you followed the men into the medium sized country manor house.

Inside smelt of cedar and pine. Your footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor as you walked into the charming front room and looked up at all of the old portraits and paintings and decorative weapons. Twin staircases, one on each side of the front room,  dog-legged up to the next level.  You approached a tall round table with a large vase of fresh flowers and walked around it. You peeked into dark rooms and soon found yourself in an equally as charming country kitchen. There was a man in there wearing a black jumper and blue jeans, drinking from a white mug.

‘Ah!’ he said when he saw you. ‘Come in, come in. Coffee?’

Aware that you looked particularly filthy and bedraggled, compared to his crispness, you cleaned your hands on your cargo trousers and stepped into the room.

‘Yes, please.’

The man obliged, saying, ‘It’s only instant, I’m afraid.’

Instant was fine and you didn’t protest when he handed you a cup.

‘And it’s terrible,’ he added with a laugh. ‘I’ve only just arrived and haven’t had a chance to flush out all of the pipes. Everything happened so fast.’

You nodded and drank the metallic tasting coffee without complaint.

‘Ayami, then. Right?’

You knew what he was asking. Ayami was the conductor of this orchestra and she deserved all of the credit.

‘Yes.’

‘Fuck… she’s a legend.’

Finishing the cup without much tasting it, you handed it back to him.

‘I’d like to clean up and make sure that he’s… that August is ok for the night.’

He took the cup and was nodding as he put both yours and his into the sink.

‘Sure, sure. I can do that. There is a room ready for the both of you. Come on, I’ll show you.’

You followed him up the stairs and down a quiet, thickly carpeted hallway which was also lined with gaily painted portraits. Upon reaching the room at the end, he stepped aside to let you go in first.

There was a trio of men in there, that you recognised as the medical team and the room had been set up like a well-stocked hospital room. The lemon yellow wallpaper with its sunflower print was a pleasant contrast to the medical equipment and other paraphernalia. The men greeted you and they all shared a happy look. You knew why and yes, you shared it too. You said nothing as you watched them undress and bathe August, glad that he could finally receive more focused treatment.

‘And my room?’ you asked.

August didn’t need you now and you had to look after yourself. Mr instant coffee led you back down the hall and showed you your bedroom and amenities. When he left you, you threw your rucksack on the floor by the bed, stripped out of your filthy clothes, and immediately ran a bath. When you finally emerged, refreshed, and clean down to your toes, you found a sandwich and cola waiting on the table next to the bed. You devoured it in a few bites but drank the cola slowly as you unpacked your rucksack. All the way at the bottom,  and rolled around a pair of thick socks was a clean shirt and sweatpants which you quickly pulled on. You sat on the edge of the bed and finished the cola.

Flopping onto your side and closing your eyes, you intended to rest for only a moment. However, sleep had other ideas.

**

Sunlight streamed in through the windows behind you and you woke suddenly then rolled over. On the wall at the head of the bed, a pleasant-looking woman smiled down at you from a pastoral painting and you were groggy enough to smile back. Rubbing your face you sat up, yawned, and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, staying there a moment to contemplate the night before. You hadn’t slept that well in a very long time and you were grateful to have finally got some rest. That old bed was a godsend.

After washing and dressing in clean clothes, you stood in the corridor outside your room door and looked down the hallway to where August slept.  His door was closed. The scent of coffee wafting up the stairs alerted you that someone else was awake and you wondered if it was Mr Instant coffee down there still flushing out the pipes and drinking metallic tasting coffee. You decided to leave him to it and you walked to August’s room.

You tapped on the door but there was no answer, so you turned the doorknob and let yourself in.  August was still asleep. The IV drip bag was half empty and the bandages on his face were bright and clean. He looked much better in the warm morning light and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. You smoothed down the patch of  IV tape on the back of his hand and August startled a yelp out of you when he moved.

His eyes were open and you found yourself under the clear scrutiny of the infamous August Walker. Before your inglorious meeting at the cabin, you had never been this close to him. The two of you never spoke nor had you even been in the same room.

His eyes moved all over your face as if hunting for something and you stood still letting him complete his inspection. When recognition finally bloomed in his eyes, he relaxed.

You ventured to put your hand over his.

‘Do you remember me?’ you asked.

‘I remember,’ he answered, voice raspy from disuse.

August fell silent and it seemed to take effort for him to speak.

‘I… remember you read to me.’

Your heart skipped with elation.

‘Yes.’

Breathing out a breath, August closed his eyes.

‘Thank you.’

‘We’ll make him pay, August,’ you said when he was quiet. ‘All of them.’

It didn’t matter that he had succumbed to sleep again and probably didn’t hear you. Ethan Hunt was going to pay.

**

It was fortunate Mr. Instant Coffee, as you dubbed him, was around to cook and clean because you weren’t about to look after Walker and do the domestic duties as well.

As the weeks drifted by and August grew stronger, you turned your interest away from him and to revenge.

Retribution, you liked to say to yourself. It was a much better word and to pull it off, you needed a team.

Ayami, of course, was on board. She was always up for some violence and you loved her for it. She knew exactly who you needed and how to contact them. And, if you were going to go through with it, all the way, you needed a solid plan. Every piece had to be in place for the whole machine to move forward. No stone could remain unturned.

You spent a lot of time in that country kitchen with plans and schematics and blueprints spread out in front of you on the table. The first order of business was to find the persons responsible; Benji, Ilsa, Luther and Hunt.

Find them, and observe.

‘That’s it,’ you’d told Ayami. ‘Find them and observe. Record their patterns, their travel, their habits, their pubs, markets, clothing stores, everything.’

You made sure to have rotating team members on each target so that said target would not recognise any reoccurring faces and become suspicious. IMF was a clever, skittish bunch and the way to lure them into the trap was to be patient and deliberate.

Early one morning, about three months into your stay at the safe house, a heavy thumping down the stairs distracted you from your research.

You got up, refilled your coffee and then poured a second fresh cup. Returning to the table you put the second cup in the space across from where you had been sitting. For two weeks now, August had been testing his newly found strength and had insisted on getting up and moving around own his own. He’d recently been cut out of his arm cast and was able to navigate his way on crutches. And on mornings after breakfast when he could get himself out of bed, he usually banged down the stairs and hobbled into the kitchen.

After a few days of this, you started preparing a cup of coffee for him. Whether he was looking for coffee or not, you always put out a second cup when you heard him coming down. And August was actually polite and thankful for the gesture. It surprised you. You expected him to be this gruff and grumpy take charge team leader who didn’t have time for underlings. When, in fact, August Walker was a very pleasant man.

‘Morning,’ you heard him say from the kitchen’s doorway.

��Morning,’ you replied, nodding to the coffee cup.

He took up his regular place across from you, and leaned the crutches against the bench seat.

You looked at him finally. The bandages were all off of his face now (except for the one remaining to protect his damaged ear) and the swelling had gone down.

What was at first considered full-thickness burns were actually only partial-thickness and he could heal without skin grafts.

He looked, you decided, pretty normal. Handsome, in fact and you wanted to reach out to touch him.

He saw you examining him and he made an aborted attempt to touch his face.

‘No, it ahh… it’s good. You look much better. Really,’ you said quickly.

He picked up the coffee and drank slowly.

‘Does it still hurt?’

‘No,’ he said into the cup and changed the subject. ‘What have we got?’

Right back to business, you thought. Of course. None of this ‘feelings’ stuff for him.

‘The only one we got consistent eyes on is Luther. I guess they’re not using him these days, so he’s staying put. He’s in the States and looks to have a vacation home in Florida. If he has a third place, we don’t know about it yet.’

August listened and nodded and you swore you could see a little smile starting to play across his mouth. Not wanting it to disappear, you showed him photos of Ilsa.

‘I think, she thinks she’s clever. At first she was darting around, doing the whole ‘spy’ thing. It was cute. Now, not so much. I’d like to take her… if you agree.’

August looked up at you and that little smile was still there. In fact he looked particularly pleased with you.

‘Don’t worry. Hunt’s for last. We’re saving him for you.’

August held your gaze and you felt a thrill race through you.

‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘I want you to do whatever you want to do. I trust you.’

You brightened considerably and resisted the urge to clap your hands with delight. Having August Walker’s trust had made the day golden.

**

A few days later, the thumping down the stairs distracted you from your work. Smiling a little, you got up and poured a fresh cup of coffee and sat it on the table across from you. Then as an afterthought, you got up again and plated a few chocolate Hobnobs that Mr. Instant Coffee had bought with the weekly grocery. You had barely put the plate down before August appeared in the kitchen doorway.

Seeing the mid-morning snacks waiting for him, he smiled a little and now down to one crutch from two, he hobbled into the kitchen and sat down in his usual spot across from you.

‘Look at you, speedster,’ you teased.

August’s brows rose with pleasure, but he smothered his growing smile by lifting his cup and drinking the coffee.

‘I prefer your coffee to the other one,’ said August, raising his eyes to meet yours.

You hesitated to meet his gaze, and when you did, the praise in his face melted you.

August quickly looked away and down at the plans on the table between the two of you.

‘So, tell me.’

He gestured with the cup to the papers.

You grinned, feeling pleased with your progress.

‘Ilsa. I finally got a bead on her. And I will be travelling to her location today.’

‘Today?’ he asked, sounding surprised and your brows drew together a little.

‘Too soon? I mean.. do you want to come?’

August shook his head and suddenly looked concerned.

‘I don’t want you rushing into something.’

Ah, was that it?

You reached out to tap the back of his hand with your index finger.

‘Whilst I thoroughly enjoy your concern, there’s no need for it. Do you umm, want a trophy? An eyeball? A finger?’

August was clearly surprised, and your offer startled a laugh out of him.

‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘No, I don’t want any of that. But ah… I appreciate your vigour.’

You smiled at him.

‘You sure?’

He laughed a little, again, and asked, ‘And your flight?’

‘Coupla hours,’ you replied checking your wristwatch.

‘And your plan?’

‘Delicious,’ you promised.

And it was.

**

Los Angeles was hot and sweltering and you were not prepared for the weather. But you didn’t let that deter you, for you had a mission to accomplish.

You found the target sitting at a table beneath a colourful umbrella at a crowded outdoor cafe.

Carrying several bags emblazoned with names of high-end shops you stopped by her table, made a show of looking into the cafe and then down at the chair across from her.

She looked up at you and you tried a smile.

‘Hi, I am sooo sorry, but do you mind if I just sit here. I am dying in this heat!’

As you were actually dying in the western heat, you knew that you came across sincerely. She took a moment to consider you. Judging you harmless, she nodded to the chair and you collapsed onto it gratefully.

‘Oh, thank you, honey. That’s so good of you. I thought I was going to get all of my shopping over and done with before noon, but you know how it is. Just one more shop, one more try on…. maybe they got those shoes in the back in your size, right? Am I right?

You giggled easily and she nodded, then glanced into the cafe.

‘I gotta wear these gloves to that my hands don’t tan,’ you said watching her. ‘There’s nothing worse than having your arms one colour and your hands 5 shades darker.’

Ignoring you, she raised her hand hoping to alert the waiter standing inside.

He eased up to the table.

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘I ordered my…’

‘Yes, I know ma’am. We are working on it right now, please give us some time. The broiler is currently holding on by a thread. May I offer you a cold drink? On the house?’

You looked at her and she sighed.

‘Sure, go on. You want one?’

Her attention was on you.

You shrugged.

‘Sure! I’ll have what she’s having.’

The two of you chatted amiably for a little while and the waiter returned with your drinks. You immediately sipped at the fizzy fruit drink and put your glass down next to hers.

Several minutes later someone inside shouted, ‘Janie Fellows?’

The woman across from you stirred and then stood up.

‘Finally,’ she said and went inside to pick up her order.

You watched her go and quickly, unobtrusively, dumped the contents of your travel perfume bottle into her glass.

Ilsa returned with a plate brimming with meat and salad and set it on her placemat.

‘Looks good,’ you said admiring the dish. ‘I might get one, but I do need to get on, I think.’

‘You can stay as long as you like,’ she assured you and began her meal.

You sat and chatted whilst she ate and finished her drink.

You were in the middle of a long drawn out story about your imaginary husband when she stopped devouring the rare steak.

Ilsa dropped her fork and you turned towards her.

‘Something wrong?’ you asked, faux concern in your voice as you let your natural accent slip. ‘You’ve gone quite pale… Janie.’

Ilsa’s wide eyes shot up to your face and she spat out her chewed mouthful.

‘I probably overdosed you,’ you said quietly. ‘I mean, you were ten pounds heavier the last time I checked. But you and your hot yoga classes have done wonders. I might take it up myself.’

Eyes bulging as the poison squeezed closed her throat, Ilsa gurgled and staggered upright. The chair screeched on the concrete, fell away and you got up.

‘August Walker says, hello,’ you snarled at her. Then changing your attitude to something more helpless you shouted, ‘Oh My God! I think she’s having a seizure, help, help!’

A crowd began to form allowing you to slip away, but not before giving the thumbs up to Mr. Instant Coffee who had posed as your waiter who had perfectly distracted the mark enough for you to poison her drink.

**

‘Went well, I take it?’ August asked when you bustled into the kitchen the next morning.

There was coffee waiting for you at your usual spot.

You threw your arms round his neck and gave him a hearty kiss in greeting.

‘Better than you could ever imagine!’ you crowed and left him in stunned silence.

**

Distracted by the noise coming from the upper floor, you looked up from the laptop. The thumping down the stairs had been sounding a little less clumsy lately, now that August had finally regained control over his healing limbs. You were glad for it, because it meant that the infamous August Walker was out of the woods and on the mend.

You got up, poured a fresh cup of coffee, and was just setting it down when August came into the kitchen.

‘Morning!’ you called brightly, like the little homemaker you fancied yourself to be.

Well, you fancied yourself to be the kind of homemaker who didn’t keep house, but made coffee and assassination plans. You turned the cup so that the handle faced August when he straddled the bench and sat down across from you.

‘Thank you,’ he said picking up the cup and drinking deeply.

Smiling fondly, you considered him a moment and looked at the fresh bandage on his ear.

‘It’s ear day soon, isn’t it?’

Ear day, as you called it, was literally when August got his new outer ear to replace the one that had been damaged.  Contacts in one of the world’s leading biotech labs had been cultivating new skin and cartilage from his own cells and were ready for transplantation.  August had been putting off the surgery, ever since the fire of killing off the IMF team had been lit. He wanted a clear conscience before proceeding with any additional cosmetic surgery.

August lifted his gaze, but not directly to you. He looked at a spot on the table which was still littered with papers and blueprints and your laptops and a muscle bunched in his jaw, alerting you that he was uncomfortable with this line of discussion. You were never one to back down from a subject you wanted to pursue, so you pressed him gently.

‘I think… well, I think it’s gonna be fine. The surgery will be fine. You’ll have a brand spanking new appendage and everything’s gonna be fine.’

You watched his eyes sweep the length of the table, in an obvious attempt to avoid looking at you.

‘You suffered no hearing loss, on that side, the skin is mending itself nicely and the doctors even said that there was no follicle damage. Those curls will be coming back in no time.’

He scoffed.

‘I don’t care about that.’

‘Yes you do,’ you said with a tiny grin. ‘Yes you do, you care. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t look like this.’

You waved an appraising hand in his direction.

‘August Walker, meet August Walker. He cares about his looks.’

‘I’m not vain,’ August scowled, putting the cup down and finally looking you in the face

You softened your teasing just a little.

‘I didn’t say you were vain. There’s nothing wrong with a man who looks after his appearance. It’s… sexy.’

That stopped him and a spark of pleasure brightened his face.

You continued to lay it on thick.

‘Come now, a good looking guy like you? And you don’t know it? I find that hard to believe.’

He snorted quietly.

‘Do you ever think something that you don’t say?’ he asked, lifting a dark brow.

You leaned in on your elbows.

‘There are loads of things that I think, that I don’t say. That doesn’t mean that I won’t say them eventually.’

August’s lips lengthened into an inquisitive smile.

‘Like?’

‘Like?’ you repeated and decided to come clean. ‘I just said that you were sexy.’

You made an airy, dismissive gesture.

‘That’s not a new thought.’

You felt a chill manifest as a soft, insistent tingling that skittered all along your skin. Everything you’d hidden about your feelings for him was almost all the way out and you couldn’t stop yourself.

‘It’s not new that I’d do anything for the manifesto to be realised,’ you continued.

When August put down the cup, you reached out and clasped both hands over his.

‘That I’d do anything for you, August.’

The passion in your own voice stunned you. Surely, you had once again overstepped his boundaries.

First, it was kissing him without asking,  and now this, though August didn’t seem bothered by your audacity. He turned his hands up to enclose yours.

‘And I reward loyalty,’ he answered, voice low and full of promise.  

You drew in a long breath through loosely pursed lips, which August seemed to appreciate for his eyes lowered to your wet mouth. His own lips parted in response and you wondered if you climbed across that table and onto his lap, would it have been considered outlandish.

You didn’t think about any of that, as you stood up onto the wooden bench. With his handsome face brimming with delight, August held onto your hands and steadied you as you scrabbled across the table and landed astride his muscular thighs with a satisfied ‘ooof!’

He grimaced from the sudden pressure slamming down on his still tender leg and you were immediately contrite.

‘I’m sorry,’ you murmured, sliding your arms around his neck and curling your fingers into his shaggy curls. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll not play so rough next time.’

‘I like it rough,’ said August, running his hands over your hips to grip you close.

And then you kissed him, softly, fully, feeling his lips come apart beneath yours. Breathing him in, your thoughts ran wild.

I could get used to this. I could indulge in this all day. I could–

Then, ever a man of ill timing, Mr. Instant Coffee bustled into the kitchen, and it took him a moment to realise what he was interrupting.

‘Oh, shite, ok… uhh so that’s happening. Ok, great, but ah, you two… we need to get a move on. The car leaves in ten.’

And then he was gone, leaving you staring at the recently vacated kitchen doorway with your arms dangling over August’s shoulders. Reluctantly, you backed off of August’s lap and smiling, you cupped his cheek, pressed your thumb against the dimple in his chin and walked off to grab your travel bag.

It was back to the States again, the keys of Florida where Luther Stickell was vacationing on a secluded houseboat.

**

Stickell was not hard to find. His boat was moored in one of the farthest berths and was lit up like Christmas. He was having a party.

So much for keeping a low profile, you thought as you stepped off of the elegant cabin cruiser that had been rented for your mission. Your craft was berthed far enough away from his that no one in Stickell’s party could see August in his scuba gear, stepping off the low deck and into the dark water.

Standing on a nearby wooden piling, a pair of seagulls watched you suspiciously, the way birds do, and you lifted a finger to your lips, shushing them.

Holding a pair of strappy heels in your hand, you walked down the slatted dock between yachts and other smaller boats.  You purposefully wore a skimpy sequined dress, in the hopes of talking your way into the party. There were casually dressed men standing on the dock and smoking and they stopped talking as you approached. They didn’t look like bodyguards, but just like regular blokes. Easy to manipulate.

‘Hullo!’ you called happily, flapping your hand at them in greeting, affecting tipsiness. ‘I couldn’t help coming over. I just came from another get-together, but I’m not done partying yet. Ya’ll mind if I… ’

You made a walking motion with your index and middle fingers towards the boat. One of the men smiled and swaggered towards you. He held out a hand which you took and he led you to the edge of the boat, then helped you down the stairs.

Too easy.

There were people milling about on the port deck and some people playing cards inside, but not a lot was going on. It appeared to be at the tail end of the party, where people were trying to drink the last of the booze and eat the last of the food before they were forced to go home. You spotted Luther at the card table. He was laughing around a huge cigar clamped between his front teeth and then he threw the cards down on the table with a triumphant cry. The men sitting there erupted in jeers and hoots as he raked in the pile of money from the centre of the table.

Scanning the area you then went down the stairs to the toilet and stood in the dark narrow corridor thinking about August swimming around beneath your feet as he planted bomb charges against the boat’s hull.

The thought of him down there was strangely arousing.

August was stronger now, strong enough to cause mayhem with his own hands, and it was all you wanted for him. You crouched by the toilet and dug about in your handbag, pulling out one of Ayami’s personal creations – something she’d called her ‘cherry bang bang’. You drew out a black device that was flat on the bottom and round on the top. It looked harmless enough, almost like a little cake, but you knew the massive power packed into that sweetly named bomb. She had given you and August a personal demonstration of the destructive power of her little sweets. You placed a kiss on its glossy surface and adhered it to the underside of the toilet bowl.

‘You are a gem, Ayami,’ you chuckled and pushed upright.

You made your way back to the upper level and moving about unnoticed you planted more cherry bang bangs, even adhering one to each of the fishing chairs bolted to the port side deck.  

A chill settled over the harbour. The guests soon drifted inside and eventually left the party altogether.

You walked back to the rented cabin cruiser to find August waiting for you. His hair was curly and damp and there were pressure marks from the dive mask across his brow. You went up on tiptoes to kiss him. August caught you about the waist and wrapped you up in his arms, lifting you to deepen the kiss. Trapped like that against his big, hot body,  your heart throbbed excitedly. If he could elicit such wonders from your body with just a kiss and an embrace, you couldn’t imagine what other magic he could work.

‘Ready?’ he asked, bending to put you back on your feet.

You nodded and tossing your shoes aside, went to sprawl on one of the long creme coloured couches. August started the engine and guided the cruiser out of the berth. When you were a safe distance away, he reached for your hand and helped you up to the top deck.

You could see the lights of Stickell’s boat twinkling in the distance.  And after about twenty more minutes, once everyone was finally gone, Luther shut off the boat lights.  You and August got up from your deck chairs. You held up the binoculars and adjusted them until the houseboat came into sharp focus. All you could see now was the red glow of Luther’s cigar as the man sat out in one of the fishing chairs and enjoyed the rest of his evening.

August put one arm about your waist, big hand splaying across your stomach, and held up the detonator with the other.

‘Two down,’ you said and he depressed the button.

The explosion was brilliant.

Through the binoculars, you watched the boat burn and sink, but August was more interested in kissing the back of your neck and exposed shoulders to pay attention.

‘Mmmm,’ you purred slyly, leaning your head back against his shoulder. ‘Did you like that? Was it good for you?’

‘So good,’ he answered giving you one last kiss before releasing you.

You opened your mouth to say something but the distant sounds of sirens broke the silence.

Time to go, you thought and the both of you disappeared into the night.

**

You didn’t want to go back to the safehouse right away. As nice as the country house was, being cooped up between those four floral walls drove you crazy. August paid for a few nights at the Shangri-la hotel in London so that you could shower in temperatures above lukewarm, and sleep in a broad bed beneath washing detergent scented sheets.

And when August made love to you on those soft sheets,  your earlier conjecture regarding his sexual prowess, did not prepare you for the bliss you experienced with him buried deep inside you.

It was nearly nine in the morning, a few days after your expedition to the Keys, and propped up with a pillow under your armpit, you lay on your side across the hotel bed, a bowl of spag bol, and your open laptop on the white duvet in front of you. You were half under the thick covers and half out of it because the room was warm, but not uncomfortably so. August emerged from the adjoining bathroom, wearing one of the luxurious bathrobes and towelling dry his hair.

He tossed the towel across the footrest by the chair and stretched out on the bed behind you, looking over your shoulder to read the Miami Herald’s bold headline. He slid his hand beneath your tee-shirt and caressed the skin between your shoulder blades. How he figured out that you liked that, still remained a quandary, but you were glad that you didn’t have to ask for it.

‘Oh, dear,’ you said feigning distress. ‘Did you hear about the accident that happened in Florida? Tsk… such a shame.’

‘Is he dead?’ asked August, as he nuzzled your shoulder.

‘Yes, sir,’ you teased, reaching back to playfully push him off. ‘You are not paying attention.’

‘I am. I’m paying attention to what’s important.’

The implication of his statement drifted right over your head as you were too focused on proving him wrong.

He kissed your neck again and grunted when you jabbed him with an elbow.

‘Well, if you were paying attention to what was important, you’d know that…’

‘That Dunn is here in London,’ August finished for you and continued to lazily caress your back.

That shut you right up. How did he know?

‘Of course, you knew,’ you chuckled.

‘I suggest,’ said August, changing the subject and lifting his head to take your earlobe between his lips. ‘We take one more day here and then find him.’

As he spoke, August slid his hands beneath you, turned you away from the laptop and pulled you atop him. You wriggled with delight, and grasping the robe’s belt, you pulled the knot free and let it fall open.

‘Just one day?’ you asked, sliding down the length of his body to ease his cock into your mouth.

‘Anything!’ he gasped, the heat of your mouth robbing him of coherent through. ‘Whatever you want.’

You wanted at least two extra weeks after the mission.

**

When you woke hours later, August was gone. There was a note left for you on the nightstand and in his neat print he’d written, ‘Supply Run.’

You stretched under the duvet and tapped the stiff cardstock against your lower lip.

Supply Run either mean food, or guns and knowing August, it was probably the latter. You were just raiding the over-stocked minibar refrigerator when he returned to the hotel room, carrying a long black duffel which he dropped onto the chaise at the end of the bed.

‘Guns,’ you said aloud, looking up from the chilled box of chocolate.

‘What?’ he asked, shrugging out of his jacket.

You smiled and shook your head and switched on BBC World Service.

Unzipping the duffel, August asked, ‘what do you know about Sage Software?’

‘Nothing,’ you answered truthfully. ‘Who are they?’

‘They supply small business software. Dunn is working with them and hacking them.’

Taking the chocolates to the bed, you opened your laptop and searched the business. With a laugh, you rolled over onto your back and looked up at August with interest. He was smiling slightly back at you.

‘Well, what do you know?’ you said with amusement. ‘Sage is located in the Shard, which is… ’

August nodded to you and his grin widened.

‘Right downstairs,’ he finished.

‘Did you plan this? Getting a room here because he was downstairs?’ you giggled, when he leaned over to kiss you.

‘Of course. Leave nothing to chance, Princess.’

Well, that nickname was new, you thought, delighted.

‘What’s the plan, then?’

August stretched out on his back next to you and folded his hands on his belly.

‘He’s got an office on the 13th and is there most nights.’

‘Most nights,’ you repeated and waited for him to finish his thought.

‘Tonight.’

**

Dunn was surprisingly easy to pick off. You had expected for him to have cameras and monitors and other high tech stuff to alert him to the presence of anyone who came unannounced to his office. And, you were surprised that /he/ was surprised when August quietly opened the thin office door and let himself in.

You stayed in the corridor and watched the scene unfold through the narrow decorative glass panel next to the door.

Dunn obviously recognised and remembered August,  because he bolted out of his swivel chair and threw himself against the wall behind him.

‘I thought you were dead!’ you heard him shout before the silenced round splattered him across the frog poster that announced ‘work hard, play hard, live hard’.

You clapped lightly as August exited the office.

‘Well done, baby,’ you praised him. ‘But come on. I heard the lift bell. It would be stupid of us to get caught.’

All the little piggies had gone to slaughter. All except one.

**

Ethan Hunt was not a stupid man.

In fact, he was quite the opposite. He was cunning and clever and suspicious which were characteristics that helped him to remain one of the top Mi6 agents.

He also had a golden streak of very good luck and August Walker was just about to ruin that man’s whole career.

‘He went squirrely, ’ said Ayami who was pawing through a tin of broken Danish butter cookies from where she sat perched on the kitchen counter-top.

Two weeks after you returned from the Dunn business,  Ayami just turned up at the country safe-house. Much to your delight, you’d found her one morning sitting at the kitchen table having a bagel and cream tea. And you knew why she was there. Things were winding up to the big payoff and the team needed to be as consolidated as possible.

‘What does that mean?’ you asked her but it was Mr. Instant Coffee who answered.

‘Means that he knew what’s good for him and went underground.’

‘Because all of his peeps were getting murdered,’ Ayami finished cheerfully and you half expected her and Instant Coffee to slap hands in a celebratory high-five.

August sat silently in his usual place, thoughtfully turning the small white coffee cup in a circle on the table.

‘Last time he was seen?’ he asked finally.

‘Park hotel, Berlin,’ Instant Coffee read from the reports supplied by the ‘boots on the ground’ team. ‘Been there for about a week, but he hasn’t really stayed one place for more than that. We should have moved earlier.’

‘No,’ said August, not looking at him, but at the cup. ‘No, we want to give him enough rope to hang himself. Let him get complacent.’

‘Do we have time to let him get complacent?’ Instant Coffee said. ‘I mean, the longer we wait, the more time he’ll have to burrow in like a fucking tick.’

You looked at Instant Coffee for a moment. He did have a point.

‘Okay,’ August replied easily. ‘You’re right.’

At that moment, your respect for August Walker increased ten-fold. That he was able to take in the opinion of the other members of his team was unbearably sexy. He may have earned a little leg over for later that night.

‘I’m going alone,’ August announced finally, drawing the sharp attention of everyone in the room.

You reined your own reaction because an emotional response in that instant would have been inappropriate. You knew exactly why August wanted to hunt down Ethan alone. Hunt had not only gravely wounded August’s body but also his pride. His revenge was personal.

‘That’s probably not a good idea,’ said Instant Coffee, obviously feeling confident that he had scored a few brownie points a few moments earlier.

August scowled and looked to you. Meeting his gaze,  you nodded once.

‘August should face Hunt alone,’ you said to the room and then to him, added, ‘but I don’t think you should go alone.’

There was so much gratefulness in his eyes that you felt embarrassed and looked away. You didn’t want August to see the answering distress in your eyes. If the fight on the cliff side had been fair, and luck hadn’t been on Hunt’s side, August wouldn’t have lost. Tossing August over the edge was poor sportsmanship. You were afraid that Hunt would employ other clever tricks and defeat August for the second time. And now that August wanted to take on the IMF leader alone ensured that he would be left vulnerable to losing the upper hand.

You didn’t want to lose him again, but you remained silent. This was ultimately August’s decision and he had made his choice.

**

The two of you didn’t speak much on the trip to Berlin. There wasn’t much to say. You didn’t dare express to him your fears, because that would only serve to distract him with your possibly misplaced doubt. And distraction was the last thing August needed.

When he pulled up to a local hotel to drop you off, you stayed in the car, sitting quietly for a moment, unsure what to do or say. Sighing, you turned to him and reached to cup his cheek.

‘See you soon,’ you encouraged him. ‘Bring me a trophy.’

August nodded and you got out of the car.

Come back to me, you thought watching the car disappear in the afternoon traffic.

Your room faced the Berliner Fernsehturm and you could hear music from the festival going on in the square below. You took a long hot shower and stretched on the surprisingly comfortable bed. It wasn’t the Shangri-la, but it was charming and it wasn’t long before you fell asleep.

The room door thunking shut as if a heavy weight collapsed against it awoke you hours later. With a gasp, you shot upright and reached for your weapon. You couldn’t remember where the light switch was, so when you scrambled up from the bed, you backed up to the table under the window and jerked open the curtains to let in the artificial outdoor light.

The scent of sulphur and petrol filled the room and as your eyes slowly adjusted to the differences in the light you could just make out the bulky form sitting on the floor against the door. You knew that form as the impression of it was etched on your own flesh.

You put your weapon aside and padded barefoot across the hardwood floor, grabbing a towel and wetting it as you passed the small bathroom alcove. You crouched before the shadowed figure and put your hand beneath his chin. You lifted his face to the light and it was clear that Hunt had given August a run for his money.

You gently cleaned the dried blood from his mouth and chin, carefully working it out of his moustache and scruff.

You wanted to say something reassuring, something positive, but you were too overwhelmed with relief.

‘Well,’ you murmured, stroking his face. ‘I hate to see the other guy.’

August was silent and you hoped you hadn’t over stepped the line.

He then held up a small package wrapped neatly in butcher’s paper and tied with white twine. You took it from him, pulled the string and the paper unfolded  to reveal your trophy. Holding it up to the light, it took a moment for you to recognise the carefully extracted evidence of Hunt’s death and you smiled.

‘Come on, you big brute,’ you said fondly, attempting to pull him up from the floor.

When August didn’t budge, you stopped straining against his weight and gasped with exertion.

‘You’re gonna have to help me here, babe!’

Groaning miserably, August managed to get his feet beneath him using the door and you to heave himself from the floor. You struggled to get him out of his clothes  and under the soft yellow light above the sink you examined him. Big swollen bruises bloomed across his chest and back accompanied by several shallow scrapes and slashes. You wasted no time washing him up, patching his wounds, and getting him into bed.

Lying on his belly, August was still asleep when you woke the next morning. You went to the minibar refrigerator, withdrew your trophy and admired it in the morning sunlight. Your mobile beeped.

It was a message from Ayami.

‘Tell your boyfriend to be a little less conspicuous next time, ok?’ she’d written.

Curious, and glancing at August’s sleeping form, you rang her.

‘What’s that mean?’ you asked when she answered.

‘I mean that August didn’t need to leave that fucker’s burning corpse in the warehouse. He damn near burned down the place.’

‘He was obviously sending them a message,’ you answered, smiling gleefully, proud of your little murder puppy.

‘I can understand that,’ she shot back sounding uncharacteristically irritable. ‘But that also earned us more attention than we wanted.’

You sobered.

‘Is this something that needs to be taken care of?’

‘It’s already handled,’ she answered and some of her good humour crept back into her voice.

You sighed and relaxed, wrapping an arm about your midsection.

‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ you said after a moment with no conviction in your voice and she laughed incredulously.

‘When are you coming back?’ she asked, changing the subject.

‘I dunno. Depends on what August wants.’

‘Ok, you two lovebirds hash it out and I’ll see you… whenever.’

‘Thanks, Ayami. I love you!’

‘Get something from the Wall museum for me, ok?’

You disconnected the call and tossed aside the mobile.

Feeling a warm sense of well-being, you re-wrapped your trophy and stored it in the refrigerator again. Climbing into bed next to August, you lifted his arm, crawled beneath it, and curled your body against him.

August had exacted his revenge and you felt satisfied for him. But you weren’t sure what was going to happen now. The mission that had consumed so much of your year was over. You felt un-moored and a little panicked, but when August tightened his arm round you, your hamster wheel of thoughts scattered.

There was time to worry later, now in the heat of August’s embrace was peace and with a small smile still on your lips, you put your head against him and slept.

-end

[twink-appreciation-posts]

Absolutely Not - Spencer Reid x Reader

chapter eight of “all bets are off”

do i sense some… possesive undertones coming from doctor reid? whatever. it doesn’t matter. you’re done with him anyway. it’s over.

warnings: SMUT, public sex, unprofessionalism, bondage, daddy kink, degradation, POSSESIVE sex

“Good morning, agents.”

“Hotch… too loud.” You mumbled.

“I agree.” JJ groaned.

You and your party-girls from the previous night were huddled around the coffee machine, grumbling about your hangovers.

“Why did we do that on a Sunday?” Emily asked, pouring herself a cup.

“Because we’re all masochists.” You replied weakly. Your morning had been miserable. You woke up with a pounding headache and you had to put on about a pound of makeup on your neck and chest again.

“Hey guys!” Spencer approached. You saw JJ glance at him quickly.

“Spence. About last night.. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten that drunk.” She apologized quietly. He shook his head and smiled.

“I already told you JJ, it’s okay. I was more than happy to get you home.” They exchanged smiles and JJ walked away, the rest of the woman following close behind.

“So, you making a habit of going to your female coworker’s houses late at night now?” You asked him. He seemed taken aback.

“What? No. What? Is that how you think of me? I didn’t- I wouldn’t take advantage of her, she was drunk-“ he began explaining frantically.

You felt bad, quickly explaining. “No, Spencer, it’s okay. I know, I know. I was joking. It was nice of you to take her home.” You assured him.

“Good. I don’t… I don’t want you to see me like that.” He sighed. “What did you do after I left?” He asked, moving on.

“Fucked a guy in the bathroom.” You said nonchalantly, testing him.

“Oh, I’m sure you did. Don’t think I don’t remember what you said last night.” He warned.

You found yourself falling into the trap again. Witty banter that would end with you pinned up against some surface and calling him daddy. Nope. Not this time.

“I really can’t recall. I was drunk, remember?” You shrugged, walking away before the situation could get any worse. He didn’t stop you, you noticed, as you made your way to your desk.

“What did you all do last night? You’re walking around like zombies,” Hotch asked you as you passed by him.

“Drank too much.” You sighed.

“And where was my invite?” Derek piped up.

You threw your hands up, a show of innocence. “Don’t ask me, ask your lover Garcia. She made the plans, I was just told to show up.” Spencer was back at his desk now, watching you. “Kid genius over here got an invite, though.” You directed Derek’s attention his way.

Derek walked towards him, giving you the freedom to finally take a seat at your desk. You spaced out almost immediately, mind wandering. What would have been said if you hadn’t walked away from Spencer? Did anything at all happen when he left the bar with JJ? And why the fuck did you give a shit? Self-reminder: you’re trying to let this go, not linger on it for the entirety of the foreseeable future. You were so busy scolding yourself in your head you didn’t realize that a box had been dumped onto your desk. Speak of the devil.

“What’s all this, Spencer?” You asked.

“Files.” He explained. “Files that I think need organizing.”

You looked at him quizzically. “I don’t think that organizing random files is a part of my job,” You stuck your hand into the box. “…This box is empty.” You stared at him blankly. He feigned surprise, causing you to roll your eyes.

He placed a hand on your desk, leaning over, his voice low and quiet. “In 10 minutes Hotch is going to have a meeting with Derek and Prentiss, I overheard them talking about it. JJ and Garcia will be in Garcia’s den going over the info for one of our old cases to make sure there’s nothing they’re missing to help the prosecutor of the unsub. Where do you think we should go?” You narrowed your eyes at him. If he thought he was going to get you to do… this with him again, especially at work, he must’ve been out of his mind. “You want me to choose? That’s fine. I’ll see you in the storage room.”

“No.” You said simply. “Not happening. No Bueno. Nada.”

He exhaled sharply, breath fanning out over the back of your neck. “See you in 10, agent.”

You were making a bad decision. You knew that. So why, then, were you walking towards the storage room when you noticed the bullpen was almost completely empty. Why did you knock on the door? Why did you open it and walk inside when you realized no one was there. Was this a prank? The only things in the room were boxes upon boxes of files and an old desk. Why were you here again? You stood there, confused, until the door opened. Spencer was already tugging the tie around his neck off, meeting your eyes. “You came.” He didn’t sound surprised. You wished he would’ve at least sounded a bit surprised.

“I wanted to know what the fuck you were going on about.” You replied as nonchalantly as possible.

“Strip.”

You froze.

“Y/n you knew exactly what was going to happen when you came here. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

There it was again. The warmth. The innate desire to please him, to follow orders.

“I can do it for you, but I can’t promise your clothes will be in perfect condition when we walk out of here.” His tie was off now. He held it in one hand, the other running through his hair as he observed you. You moved to pull off your shirt, dropping it to the floor. He hummed in approval.

“Good girl.”

You quickened your pace a bit, sensing his impatience, until you were shamefully exposed. Goosebumps rose upon your skin, the cold air a sharp contrast to the heat of your body.

“Look how quickly you give in. You’ve always been eager to please, though.” His eyes were raking up and down your body.

“How is it fair that I’m like.. this. And you get to be fully clothed?” You groaned, embarrassment growing. You should have never walked into the storage room.

“Patience, baby.” He chuckled, a hand moving to undo his belt. “You wanna know how I knew you’d come?”

You nodded.

“Because as much as you try to fight it but your body already knows who you belong to. Already knows that you need me, regardless of how hard you try to ignore it.” Fuck. Fuck. What if he was right? Was he right? Were you just braindead and horny at all times? “Come here.”

You approached him. You were already naked, what point was there in arguing now? You could resent yourself and your actions at a later date. He ran a hand over your body, tracing the outline of your skin. He was breathing heavily, a contrast to how calm and collected he looked on the outside.

“Turn around and give me your wrists.”

When you didn’t reply immediately he opted to grab your waist and spin you around. You were pressed against him now, feeling how hard he was through his pants. “Now for these,” he took your wrists in one hand and you heard the clank of his belt moving around and then, suddenly, the rough texture of leather wrapping around your wrists.

“O-Oh my god, Spencer, what are you doing?” Your face had turned bright red and you were actually kind of thankful that he had turned you so you weren’t facing him.

The leather tightened. You tried to flex against the restraints, testing them, but your hands were now held firmly in place. “You can turn back around now,” he sounded proud of himself. You hated it.

You faced him, hands tied behind your back, and watched with shaky breath as he pulled down his pants. “Why don’t you apologize for saying no to me earlier?” He suggested.

“You wish.” you grumbled, refusing to give in that easily.

“I’m sorry, which one of us is naked and tied up right now? I don’t have to make this easy for you. If you want me to fuck the attitude out of you again I certainly will." 

You gulped. “H-How can I apologize, sir?”

Spencer bit his lip harshly. Maybe he wasn’t expecting that response, but honestly neither were you. "I think you already know how.” He replied, brushing your hair out of your face.

You sunk to your knees, the rough floor already feeling uncomfortable, but you persevered. He stepped forward, a hand immediately rest on top of your head, blunt nails digging into your scalp. You leaned forward, taking him into your mouth slowly. He leaned his head back, exhaling through gritted teeth. Your eyes were glued to him, looking up through your lashes, and you could feel the need inside of you grow. How did he manage to look so fucking good? You found it hard to control yourself considering you had absolutely no use of your hands or arms, but that didn’t bother Spencer. He pushed you forward a bit and you gasped, coughing a bit. You heard him chuckle. You started bobbing your head, your tongue moving in synch. He was still guiding you, gently rocking his hips to meet your movements. Your eyes watered as he began to speed up, though, pressing your face pressing against his skin with each push of his head and thrust of his hips. “Look at you, all tied up and pathetic,” he breathed out. “Is there any question who owns you? You don’t care when or how, you let me use your body without question.” You were struggling to breathe, tears falling down your cheeks, but you didn’t care. Your only thoughts were of Spencer. Pleasing him. Earning his praise. “As much as I’d love to cum in that pretty little mouth of yours, I think I’d rather watch you beg for me.” He slowed down a bit, eventually releasing you from his grip. You almost fell over, losing your balance as you sputtered and gasped. He helped you up, running a thumb over your swollen bottom lip. “Do you want daddy to fuck you?” He asked.

“Yes, please, daddy.” You replied quickly, obediently. He let out a satisfied hum. “We’re still at work, I’ll have to keep you quiet.” He leaned down, picking up his tie from the ground. “Open.” You coyly opened your mouth and he brushed his thumb over your cheek soothingly, shoving the fabric into your mouth. He did it so gently that you almost forgot that he was about to fuck you in the storage room of an FBI office building. “Look at you, actually learning how to do what daddy says.” He turned you around once again and began to push you a bit, walking you towards the abandoned desk, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and leaving butterfly kisses down your jawline. His finger trailed between your legs. His thumb played at your clit, running torturously slow circles, and he kept at this for a bit, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you of your place. Slowly but surely you could feel your climax approaching, but when your moans started becoming louder from behind the fabric he stopped. You tried to turn your head to look back at him but you didn’t have a chance.

“Now you’re gonna be a good girl and take it.” The gentleness of his voice dissipated and he bent you down onto the desk, the cool surface prickling your warm skin. You mumbled against the fabric in your mouth, pleading. He paused, considering, and without warning, he pushed himself inside of you with a low groan. You let out a muffled cry, body trying to refamiliarize itself with the feeling of being so full. You were moaning, spit dribbling down from around the fabric of his tie. “God, fuck, I missed this,” Spencer said through a strained whisper. He fucked you fast, a bruising grip on your hips, and you couldn’t do a single thing but lay there as he did. Eventually, he moved his hand up to your lower back, pressing you further down onto the desk, your face shoved into the smooth wood surface. “You told them last night that I wasn’t your best, huh? Well, I guess I’ll just have to fuck you so hard that I ruin you for anyone else.” He was speaking a bit too loud now, you feared, but there was nothing you could do to indicate that to him. You could only let out muffled sounds of pleasure as he thrusted in and out of you. Your legs were starting to shake, they were still a little bit sore from the weekend, but you were already feeling yourself get too lost in your pleasure to care about the aches and pains. “Who else could fuck you this well, huh?” You couldn’t see his face but he sounded almost angry. “Who else could satisfy a slut like yourself? You need this. You need me to fuck you.” He was too loud. Too fucking loud. And you knew it, but you could barely bother to care. He was fucking you so well you didn’t care if the whole FBI heard you. “You’re so fucking perfect, so hot, especially like this, so helpless, so easy to control.” You were so close, moaning, wishing you could see how good Spencer looked while absolutely ravishing you against the desk. He was close too, you could tell because his movements were once again becoming more erratic. He grabbed the end of the belt that was restraining your wrists, tugging on it hard enough to force you into an upright position, back pressed against his chest. You mewled in pain but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” He growled onto the skin of your neck. You nodded frantically. The hand that wasn’t holding you up by your restraints came from behind, wrapping around your neck and squeezing your pulse. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull, the only sound that you could focus on being the sound of skin meeting skin. “Cum for me, then. Cum for daddy.” You couldn’t speak before, but with Spencer’s hand around your neck, you could barely make a noise either. Your legs shook as you came, feeling Spencer do the same not too long afterward. His grip around your throat loosened and he gently pulled the tie out of your mouth as pulled out of you. You gasped for air, still suspended in the upright position he was holding you in. After allowing you to breathe he carefully pulled you off of the desk, standing you up straight and undoing the belt wrapped around your wrists. They were sore and you rubbed them gently, meeting his eyes.

“You were loud,” you breathed out, voice hoarse. “What if someone heard?”

He zipped up his pants and wiped the sweat from his forehead, pocketing his tie which has been rendered unwearable.

“No one heard.” He reassured you and you followed suit and redressed.

“I can’t believe that you… that we…” You stared at him, emotions taking hold, and you felt your eyes water.

He noticed, eyes widening in panic. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly.

“No, no. I’m fine. I’m fine. Just… randomly feeling emotional.” You dismissed him, eyes directed at the floor.

“Oh. Don’t feel bad, that’s actually quite common. It’s called post-coital dysphoria, or PCD. It’s when you experience intense emotions like sadness or melancholy after sex. It’ll go away in a few minutes.”

There he was, always ready to tell you exactly what was wrong. It was nice to know it was normal, you guessed, but you wished you could’ve gotten some actual sympathy. Oh well. It would be gone in a few minutes, right?

“One of us should probably leave first, you know? Stagger our arrivals.” Spencer suggested. You nodded. “I’ll go first. I’m gonna head to the bathrooms.”

Spencer gave you a small smile and wave as you exited. You made your way to the bathroom, and as you passed by the main office-space you noticed Hotch in a room with Derek and Emily. Thank god, at the very least they hadn’t heard you. You scurried to the bathroom, walking inside to see Garcia.

“Hey babycakes!” She grinned. “You look like you’ve been through a wind tunnel,” she noticed. You laughed. “Long day. Hangovers are a bitch.” You ran into a stall and waited until she left the bathroom to use the mirror and fix yourself the best you could. You smoothed your hair and clothes out, readjusting your lipstick and wiping the running mascara from under your eyes. When you left the bathroom you saw Spencer returning to his desk, his hair still attractively tousled. Suddenly you watched Rossi approach Spencer, and his eyes widened. Oh fuck. Wait. Had Rossi been unaccounted for this whole time? Anxiety coursed through your veins as you walked past the pair, who seemed to go silent as you came into view.

Fuck. Fuck. You were fucked. And not in a good way. In the absolute worst way. You didn’t know what you would do if anyone on the team knew what had happened, but Rossi finding out was for some reason especially embarrassing. He was like a father figure to you. A cool Italian father figure. And now he potentially knew that you were having rough sex at work with your colleague. Great. Fan-fucking-tastic.

All praise Spencer Reid, king of ruining your life.

taglist <3

@101donuts @annestine @spideyboix @babybloomer @welcome-to-hoeville @eldahae @brokenanxiety @andiebeaword @spencerwaltergubler @la-vie-en-amour1 @rainsong01 @taekwinkle @dreamer7black @guessthatswhyiliveinhell @creepingfromthecorners @joyousreid

[sorryimanon]

A Bit Stir Crazy: Pt 2

(Note: I tried to challenge myself on writing smut. It is not my strongest field, but I had fun writing this. Enjoy.)

Warning: 18+

-

After the embarrassing confrontation the morning of day 16, you found yourself even more on edge. Anything relating to eating, sleeping, and hygiene wasn’t on your mental critia for the rest of the day. Your mind was set on one thing only. Katsuki.

Childish as it is, you didn’t mind lying down in bed daydreaming perfect scenarios of you and Katsuki. Sometimes you’d catch yourself clutching to the nearest pillow , pretending it’s him you’re cuddling . Pathetic. Thank god he didn’t have a telepathy quirk, or else you’d be packing your shit by now. You were in the middle of a good daydream when all of a sudden you hear the painful sound of hardwood being dragged across the floor. It was coming from Bakugous room. Blocking out the sound was impossible, it kept going on for another good 5 minutes. What the hell is the doing in there?

The temptation to yell at him to keep it down was immeasurable, but you were still skittish to show the mere sight of yourself to Katsuki again. For the next hour, you stared blankly at the chipped ceiling, listening to your roommate rearranging the entirety of his small ass room. How could you blame him though? This quarantine has made nearly go ludicrous due to boredem. Some were sadly succumb to becoming stir crazy, which you weren’t denying could possibly be you by now. You also noticed your hormones were more off the rails. Every hour you had the weird inkling to touch yourself. or just once in awhile brush up against the pillow you were holding. You couldn’t help it. No physical or social contact from the outside world for the past 16 days.

Evening struck and you haven’t eaten anything all day. The cereal from this morning made a surprise visit not long ago, causing your appetite to dissipate completely. Although, you did want to get your hands on the left over pizza Katsuki ordered last night. You were about to get up when you heard two loud knocks coming from your door.

“Hey dumbass, don’t think I didn’t notice you not eating all day. I made you some soup since you’re lazy to make something right now.” He sounded agitated, but you knew better that he meant well. “I’ll leave it by the door since I know...you...tch. Just fucking eat. If you don’t I’ll make you okay?”

And with that he left, making it clear for you to hear the door to his room close. You waddle over to the door and open it quickly, scooping up the piping hot bowl of soup. You hate to admit it, Katsuki makes a pretty damn good soup. A little spicy though.

-

Later that night, you laid on your back, toying with the hem of your panties. The muscles in your arms restricting you from going any further. A sick punishment really. You needed some relief, something to get this feral feeling out of your system. Touching yourself wasn’t a foreign feeling. You had a boyfriend to handle the task for you. Note, had a boyfriend. He randomly stopped texting you one day and after that you assumed he didn’t find you attractive anymore. Which sucks because he was great in bed.

Now it’s been almost a year without any form of sexual pleasure from another person. The thought alone made you groan out loud. I am such a fucking loser.

Your fingers itched closer as the minutes ticked by. Just do it, Katsuki should be asleep by now. With a quick glance at your clock, the red numbers 10:30 stared right back. You sighed in relief remembering that Katsuki has been keen on knocking out by 9:00. The sudden burst of confidence caused you to finally plunge your hand into your panties. The feeling of your index finger brushing up against your clit made your whole body shiver. Oh, it definitely has been a year. Making sure there was no evidence of anyone being awake in the next room, you rubbed the very sensitive bud with a slow and teasing motion. You wanted this session to last a while, so you stopped rubbing and dipped your middle finger into the hole. A soft moan escaped your mouth, with which you quickly slapped your mouth with your hand, trying to cover up any lewd noises you might emit.

10 minutes have past and you haven’t climaxed yet. You were starting to get tired of fingering yourself, noticing the warm sensation in your lower stomach has went away. Then, an involuntary image of Katsuki flashed behind your closed eyes. He was there, above you while looking absolutely feral. His eyes were no longer red, but somehow dilated to the point where they were just plain black. You felt the warmness coming back again as you glance down from his eyes to the placement of his hands. The mere sight made you gasp. Katsuki, with his knees proping himself, had his fingers inside of you. No longer were you covering your mouth, each and every whimper or moan left your throat. Katsuki gave you his infamous smirk and began to thrust his fingers faster within you. You couldn’t help but to clench around his fingers, wanting to get as close as possible.

“That’s it baby, come for me.” Katsuki spoke in a sultry tone.

Surprised by him speaking out, your eyes widened to the uncommon nickname.

“You look so fucking cute like this. Taking my fingers like a good girl...so fucking well baby ah fuck!” He continued with his lewd comments. He kept the usual pace while saying sweet nothings in the air.

“Katsuki...nagh...please make me come.” You pleaded softly.

With that, he curled his fingers inside you, causing a long drawn out moan from you. You felt it, then you finally released once he rubbed the tiny bud that desperately needed attention.

“Fuck, Katsuki...” you said breathlessly, eyes drawn to a close in complete euphoria.

Wanting to look back at the man who delivered you to climax, you opened your eyes to see nothing but darkness. Everything was a lucid dream. Katsuki wasn’t actually here to your beckoning call.

Embarrassed, you slipped on a fresh pair of panties and rolled onto bed, knocking out right away due to your recent endeavor.

Behind the wall next door, a lone Katsuki laid awake with his hand wrapped around his qivering member, breathing harshly after climaxing as well with you. He slapped his forehead.

“Fuck.”

-

The following morning, you woke up feeling much better. The constant pang in your lower region was gone, leaving you with an obvious glow. Katsuki noticed too when you strutted into the kitchen, wearing nothing but your big tshirt. His mind went ravage there, thinking about whether or not if you were wearing panties underneath. Considering what he heard last night made him think otherwise.

“Sleep well dumbass?” Katsuki asked as you made yourself a cup of coffee. You didn’t detect how smug he sounded. He was leaning against the island, wearing his usual attire of a tank top and sweat pants.

Thinking nothing of it, you answered his innocent inquiry. “Yeah actually. I haven’t slept that well in ages.” You took a sip of your coffee and leaned against the counter, your body mimicking Katsukis position.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh really? Some type of remedy I don’t know of that makes you sleep well?” Again, you didn’t notice how tauting his tone was.

“O-Oh um, nothing too complex really. Just a simple uh, breathing excerise I did.” You lied through your teeth.

“Ah that makes sense. No wonder I heard you breathing so hard last night” Katsuki snapped his fingers.

You regretfully spit out your coffee, coating the tiled floor with the sugary brown liquid. Katsuki titled his head innocently at you.

“Something I said?”

“N-No I just forgot I left our clothes in the washer last night. I should probably head downstairs now before some creep steals our stuff!” You spewd a last minute excuse and ran out the door before hearing anything from Katsuki.

“Was definitely something I said.”

-

The laundry mat downstairs was empty. The mornings were usually packed, having either you or bakugou to stand outside the door for an open machine. This time you wish there was people occupying the space.

You had propped yourself on the washing machine, feet dangling a few feet from the floor. He knows what you did last night. He absolutely knows. How stupid of you to not realize his bed was agasint the shared wall. It was agonizingly painful to imagine how Katsuki felt during that haunting hour. He probably threw up to the thought of you touching yourself, specifically to him getting you off. Tears started to threateningly leave your eyes. No matter how many times you tried not to cry during this whole ordeal, a single tear slid down your face. Next thing you knew a whole stream was pouring out both of your eyes. If a person were to come in at this exact moment, they’d think you were a lunatic.

That’s when you heard loud footsteps coming from the entrance of the laundry matt. Deep down you knew who it might be, but you couldn’t muster up the courage to look up. You kept your head down, eyes focusing on your bare feet swaying back and forth. A pair of feet came into view, your knees slightly touching their upper thigh. You lowered your head even more, not wanting to face Katsuki and his judgmental glare.

“Y/N? Look at me,” he demanded.

You shook your head, still keeping it down.

“I said,” he places his finger beneath your chin, raising it to where you were eye level with him. “Look at me.”

You gulped, noticing how angry he looks right now. Is he angry at you touching yourself to him? Or is he mad about something else?

“Listen, I know what you did last night-“

That’s it. You cringed hard at his confession. Nothing mattered right now anymore. Katsuki was just white noise at this point. Dying sounded more appealing than listening to your roomate spiel about how they caught you masturbating. Oh the horror.

“That’s why I think we should please each other for the time while being quarantined together”, he finished.

Wait what.

The look he gave you was unlike any other look you’ve received from him. He was pleading, almost begging, with his eyes. You barely noticed his grasp on your thigh. The grasp grew tighter each second you left him unanswered.

“We both need this. I haven’t had any relief from another person in months...” he admitted while simultaneously rubbing your thigh.

You wanted this more than anything, but you didn’t openly admit that to him. Especially not in an open space like a laundry matt, where someone could walk in at any moment.

“Katsuki...I don’t think we should-“ he caught you by surprise with the sudden impact of his lips. The contact made you both moan into each other’s mouths. The hand that was grasping your thigh earlier soon trailed higher to your inner thigh. His cold hand against your already flushed body was enough to make you climax. When he got courageous enough to place his hand on your waist, you scooted closer to his body, giving him an invitation to step inbetween your legs. He obliged and closed the space between the both of you, using his other hand to cup your cheek. Katsuki grew ansty and bit your lower lip, wanting to gain more access in your mouth. You surrender and let him kiss you tongue first. You closed your eyes in ecstasy, letting him explore your mouth with his expert tongue. Katsuki grabbed your hands and placed them on his head, implying for you to grab a handful of his hair. Once you ran your hands through his blonde locks, his whole entire body tensed up. He quickly detatched his lips from your mouth, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Keep...Keep doing that please.” He whined. You smiled at his approval and continued to rake through his hair.

His whimpers were angelic as you kept tugging on his hair while he kissed you open mouthed.

You both were at it for awhile, making out and touching places that needed attention from the other. When the two of you let go for some air, a string of saliva strewn from both of your mouths. Flustered at the sight, Katsuki licked your bottom lip and gave it a quick peck before lifting your body from the washer. You squeaked loudly due to the aruptness and wrapped your legs around his waist.

The trip back to the apartment wasn’t long. Katsuki was careful not to drop you as he treaded up the stair case. Your apartment door came into view and without hesitation Katsuki kicked it open, breaking the hinges along with it.

“Katsuki! How are we going to pay for that!” You scolded him, playfully hitting his chest.

He chuckled at that and closed what was left of the door with his foot.

“I’m not worried about that right now. Too busy on taking care of you,” he mumbled the last part before attaching his lips to yours again.

Clumsily, the pair of you made it to his bedroom without breaking anything else in the process. Katsuki practically threw you on his bed, your back landing on one of his pillows. He climbed on top of you and observed your whole entire body. Internally you were shaking uncontrollably, but externally you gave the facade that you were completely calm. Katsuki took this as a sign to move his hand under your shirt, still staring at you intently. You felt his fingers inches away from your perched nipple. His hand reached your breast, giving it a good squeeze before pinching it with his fingers. You voluntarily arched your back, wanting him to explore more of your body.

“You like that?” He questioned, still pinching your sensitive nipple.

Answering him by moaning, he used his other hand to trail a line leading up to your inner thigh. He moved up and down slowly in a teasing pace, careful not to touch your heat yet. He replaced his digits with his thumb to rub your nipple in place. His smirk grew wider seeing you squirm beneath his touch. Deep down he always wanted to see you like this. Flustered to the core and whimpering to his subtle touch. He couldn’t wait to see you screaming out in pleasure. He wanted nothing more than to hear you call out his name in pure ecstasy.

As much as you wanted Katsuki to worship your body, the desire for him to fill you was more important.

“Kasu-...Katsuki, please.” You urged on, bucking your hips to meet his.

“Please what dumbass? Hm? Use your words,” he traced the outline of your lips carefully, opening your mouth wider.

“I need you inside me. I want to feel you...” you pathetically begged out him to.

Katsuki saw the desperation in your body language and voice. Swiftly, he pulled your panties down to your ankles, letting you move them aside to the floor. The wetness from your heat was slowly dripping down your thighs. Prepped and ready for whatever Katsuki has in store for you. Your cunt throbbed painfully from the anticipation of his next move. 

“You want me now baby?” He seductively said, earning an earnest groan from you as a reply. He kept himself busy by pumping his member through his sweats. His eyes never left you as he thrusted aggressively, smiling during the process when you kept glancing at his actions below. “I can’t wait...to know how you feel...ngh...I bet you feel incredible wrapped around my cock”. A blush creeped its way to your cheeks. His crude comments are getting dirtier, and you low-key didn’t want him to stop speaking his mind. 

Never in a million years would you have ever thought of doing something this intimate with Katsuki. If you were to tell yourself, a little first UA student, that you and Katsuki Bakugou had sex, you’d never believe it. Even at this moment, you still couldn't comprehend this was happening. You broke out of your thoughts when you felt the tip of something hovering at your entrance. During your daze, Katsuki managed to get his fully erect member from the tight hold of his boxers and lined it perfectly at your aching hole. He nudges your hole a few times before rubbing against your clit. A fulfilling moan left your throat as he kept going with the tedious motion. You elavated your hips a little in hopes for his tip to enter. Katsuki growled at your impatient state and grounded your hips with hands. You whimpered at the harshness of his grip.

“Keep doing that idiot and I just might make you fuck yourself instead,” he lowered his head to your neck and started sucking on the sensitive area. “You’re lucky I'm going to go easy on you dumbass or else you’ll be begging for me to stop. So, just let me know and I’ll stop”.

Even when he’s about to go feral in your insides, he was still considerate of your feelings, which made your heart beat go bezerk. Thankfully he stopped kissing your neck and dropped his full attention to his cock. You mentally sighed to yourself once you felt his tip circle around your lips. The swelling sensation down below was becoming unbearable to the constant teasing. You couldn’t hold it in any longer, so you wrapped your hands around his torso and purposely shoved him forward. Both of you let out a choked moan once his cock finally entered you. Your walls instinctively clamped tightly around him, feeling the warm flesh inside of you. The action you did elicited a loud whine from Katskui, who was currently shoving his face into the crevice of your neck, shaking from entering your tight walls so abruptly. 

“Do I...Do I feel good Katsuki?” you asked, shifting uncomfortably to his stiffness. 

He lifted his head from his previous position and grinned from ear to ear. “You feel fucking amazing baby.” He wasted no time to move his hips to sheathe his cock deeper inside you. It didn’t hurt due to you being so aroused and wet. He then started to continuously thrust at a slow pace, making sure you were adjusting to his size. Mouth wide open, you threw your head onto his pillows while clutching the bedsheets. 

“Ugh, Katsuki. Please go faster,” you winced at how needy you sounded, but you wanted the relief right away. 

Katsuki listened to your command and thrashed himself more into your hole. Sounds of skin slapping on skin and sporadic moans filled the small room. You felt his cock twitch inside you, indicating that he was indeed close. He continued thrusting at a fast pace, occasionally reaching down to rub your clit. Without a doubt, he was hitting your g-spot repeatedly, never once missing it. To feel even more closer to you, Katsuki pushed your legs further towards you, allowing him a better angle to thrust deeper. 

“Fuck Y/N...I bet he never fucked you like this. He probably never had you making those cute faces you’re pulling right now, ngh...” he panted between thrusts. “I hated the thought of you being fucked by someone other than me. All the guys you’ve dated are nothing compared to me. I want you all to myself.”

The knot inside your cunt started pulsing by him mentioning his hatred toward your past partners. You screamed when he clamped his sharp teeth down onto your shoulder. For a spilt second, you thought you felt the trickle of your own blood. Next thing you knew, Katsuki’s thrusts became sloppier, indicating he’s on the verge of climaxing. 

“God yes Katsuki, please come. Come with me baby!” you cry out.

You being so oblivious, you don’t know how much your voice turns him on. So when you egged him on to come with him, that’s exactly what he did. With one last thrust, both you and Katsuki attach your lips together, moaning out your orgasms into each others mouths. He successfully fills your heat with his seed and freezes in place. He detaches his lips from yours and stares at your dripping core. He had to restrict himself to not shove his cock into you again. After composing himself, Katsuki released himself from you and rolled over onto his side, propping his elbow to get a good view of you. You still recovering from your orgasm. You were gasping for more air, trying to compose yourself. 

“Ya know...maybe you could use your energy restoration quirk on me for a round two?” he humorously suggested.

You shifted yourself into a comfortable position on his lap and jabbed a finger under his chin. “Only if this round involves me riding you.” 

Katsuki then pushed you roughly on your back again. His eyes were more dilated this time than during your previous intimate moment together. He leaned down and kissed you gently on the lips.

“I like that idea better don’t cha think, idiot.”

-

Everything after that event changed the course for both you and Katsuki. The mood and tension from before disappeared. Now the two of you couldn't keep your hands off each other. You caught yourself sleeping more in Katsuki’s bed than your own. What was the point of being separated if you two were practically having sex every day? Every hour, minute, and second. It didn’t bother you though. You’d rather jump his bones than read another boring book again. 

On day 30 of quarantine, you woke up naked in Katsuki’s arms. You stretched your arms and legs, popping them in the process. Katsuki grunted and pulled you closer to his body. You smiled into the crook of his neck and returned the favor by kissing him on the nose. He scrunched his face, obviously not favoring the random spot you pecked him at. 

The night before you two were going at it till 3 am. Not taking breaks for anything whatsoever. It was evident from the display of your clothes strewn everywhere. 

You relaxed more into his arms, but your heart stopped once you heard the front door opening. Katsuki was still passed out, oblivious to the disturbance inside your apartment. Your ears picked up footsteps padding their way towards Katsuki’s door. The door knob twisted ominously. Whoever was behind the door was surely taking their sweet time. Before you knew it, the door swung open revealing the last person you wanted see. There stood Kirishima, mouth agape seeing you in the same bed as Katsuki. He blinked a couple of times before raising a weak finger in your direction. 

“I guess I wasn’t the only one who got laid during this pandemic!” Kirishima bursted into laughter.

Katsuki unwrapped his arms around you and grabbed the nearest pillow, using his quirk to explode it right at Kiri’s face. The impact ricchoeted him out the threshold of the door, a loud crash coming along with him. 

“EVER HEARD OF KNOCKING FIRST SHITTY HAIR!” he yelled, small sparks ejecting from his hands.

You contently sigh. Maybe this whole quarantine thing wasn’t so bad after all. 

[k1ng-for-a-day]

Could you possibly do some fluff/nsfw Headcanons for The Shape x Killer! S/O? Like maybe his s/o gets stuck in the entity’s world too? Thank you!

:000 Oh my god thank you so much for this request!! I honestly never thought I would get one I feel really flustered just by looking at this.

A Michael Myers and killer S/O... how would that go...

❤️SFW❤️

🔪🖤 When Michael first saw you, he thought of you as another killer who landed into the entities arms. In short he never had much of a heart for you. At all.

🔪🖤 After a couple of rounds and seeing your tactics, he immediately became invested. He was intrigued by this seemingly new found power a killer like you would have. Whether it was your weapon that was sharp yet pristine, or the way your body shapeshifted into many directions. It was very amusing in his eyes.

🔪🖤 The thing that really kicked it off was how you would ask Michael for some advice. He found it oddly adorable, but he would never admit it. He would say things very bluntly, or write it down for a more in depth explanation. (Down side to that was his somewhat horrendous hand writing). At first you could barely understand it at all, and ask what he meant on a certain sentence or paragraph, which would cause him to demonstrate it. In his mind he believes that his handwriting is decent in a way.

🔪🖤 When he discovered that you couldn’t read it fully, he was somewhat shocked at this. He tried to make it a little bit better, which worked mostly. You could finally read his notes properly, and studying his handwriting really did help you a lot. (Keep this is mind)...

🔪🖤 After you two started talking more and more, he became a bit more close to you, and showed you things he wouldn’t with anyone else. Hell, he wouldn’t even show Danny these at all. (Or Ghostface. He’s really close with him).

🔪🖤 What he presented to you was this:

A picture of his family. It was wholesome, sweet, and his cute little blonde hair made you smile. This was something he showed Danny.

A key to his house in Hadonfield. This was something that was somewhat special to him due to the nostalgia of his old family, even though he did kill Judith. He definitely didn’t show Ghostface this place. (Knowing Danny he would trash it in an instant).

His favorite blade- A kitchen knife. It’s vertical simple, but to him it’s like an artifact. It’s like a painting at a museum, or some beautiful necklace at an expensive jewelry store. He enjoys it very much. Danny has seen this one too many times.

His face.

🔪🖤Once Michael finally revealed his face to you, it felt like your goal was achieved. Something inside you felt complete; you were finally whole. His beautiful eyes gleamed at you softly, but somewhat shyly. He was kind of blushing. It was weird to see this man seem so defeated, but satisfying nonetheless.

🔪🖤At first when he revealed his face, he felt a bit insecure about it. After you quickly examined his face, he covered it up instantly. He was scared that you wouldn’t like it, however that was false.

🔪🖤You would attempt to ask him if he would take it off, but he shook his head no. Course you were sad about this and ask why. He would shrug. He just doesn’t want to. If you annoy him enough, or give him a small gift, he might slip a small peak. However, he’ll quickly put it back on afterwards.

🔪🖤Later on he started to gain a bit more trust, and take off his mask for a little more time. (This phenomenon was only when you two were alone). At first it was only for a quick second, but slowly grew on to be a bit longer. A minute, five minutes, fifteen, and the longest was an hour.

🔪🖤This ‘special hour’ of mask-less Myers was a glorious site. His hair was so fluffy, his eyes were so soft, and his skin was surprisingly smooth. Everything was amazing. You two would talk about your past lives, feelings for certain killers, and just deep conversations in general. Sometimes you would even lay on his shoulder. It was soft as well.

🔪🖤After a while, Michael starts to lighten up to you about stuff that swirls around his mind. Not only does he talks about the survivors, but he talks about his day in general. (Most of it is written on a paper though). Even though Myers doesn’t feel emotion, his writing almost seems like something from a Shakespeare play. It’s somewhat sweet, but very talented.

🔪🖤You complemented Michael every time he wrote these things to you, but he seemingly shrugged it off. It seemed like you were ignored. It was kind of strange.

🔪🖤Months later you were mainly focused on hunting down survivors, and attempting to talk to Michael. Even though you tried to talk to him before a match, he became a bit more distant to you. It was to the point you thought he wasn’t fond of you anymore. You almost felt used.

🔪🖤When you confronted Michael about this, he just stared at you blankly and didn’t say anything. He didn’t even write anything at all. The reason for this was because he was scared. He was paralyzed. You didn’t catch onto this, and just walked away thinking that he didn’t actually care about you. Then again he isn’t suppose to feel emotion.

🔪🖤The next day he wrote you a small note explaining why he was distant. It was mainly due to the harshness of the entity and how displeased he was. He became so distracted by you that he started killing less and less victims. It was to the point no one was hurt at all. He was very sincere about his apology, and even brought you a small gift; an Ebony Mori.

🔪🖤Was he this crazy to give this to you..? This has to be a mistake. He didn’t need to do this!

🔪🖤The next day Michael tapped you on the shoulder, and lead you back to his house, but in a secluded area. This place was empty, but slightly warm. It was welcoming.

🔪🖤He handed you a small piece of paper, and rubbed his arm nervously. He stared at you, blushing underneath the mask.

🔪🖤You read the note, carefully: “My dearest, S/O, I wanted to know if you’ve had these odd feelings before. These stimulants that react in your brain that seemingly damage your heart once it all crumbles. This void then replaces those crumbling bits that fell through your heart. It’s like a burning passion that your to afraid to leave. I never understood these feelings of grief, pain, happiness even. I only knew hatred, death, and seemingly nothing more. I was only a prodigy made to enforce pain, but once you came to me, my eyes opened into newer possibilities. I was seemingly morphed into this new being that could finally see what others saw with my own eyes. I could finally feel. So I have to ask, do you truly love me? Would you take my hand and hold it close to yours?”

🔪🖤You looked back at him and blushed in shock. You never thought that he would do something like this, let alone to you. He stared right back at you with his mask off, awaiting your answer.

🔪🖤”Michael,” you spoke, “of course I love you!”

❤️NSFW❤️

🔪🖤Later that night, Michael stared at you with a soft smile. He thought about how beautiful you were, and how your body was perfectly made. It made him feel something much more interesting; lust. He longed for that smooth touch of your body near his, and was somewhat needy,

🔪🖤When he writes his notes, he’ll sometimes ask if you want to do something ‘strange’ with him. You didn’t realize what it was, but he’ll elaborate onwards about it.

🔪🖤If you do consent to this ‘strange’ thing, he’ll show you what he means by using his own collection of “tools”.

🔪🖤When you saw this ‘collection’ you were immediately shocked. Michael was into collecting.. sex toys? What the fuck..? You stared at him blankly, just merely in disbelief. He simply twitches his head to the side. ‘Was it not normal to collect things like this?’ He ponders for a bit.

🔪🖤You just shook your head, and decided to follow through with this ‘strange idea’ of his.

🔪🖤The first thing Michael wanted/needed was to be loved. To be kissed specifically. He likes affection before the actual event begins.

🔪🖤He took off his mask and stared at you with his widened eyes. He observed you like an a diamond, and slowly pulled you towards his lips. He kissed you on the cheek for starters, since he was inexperienced at the time.

🔪🖤He slowly started to go near your lips, and peck them gently in order to assert some form of neediness. Sometimes he would bite you lip on purpose in order to hear you squeal quietly. It was adorable, but he’ll never admit it.

🔪🖤As he kissed your lips, he finally advanced to something much more enticing; he inserted his tongue.

🔪🖤As he entered your mouth, you were in a bit of shock, but hypnotized by this taste. It was addicting to feel his mouth, and the soft but tough texture complemented both of you perfectly.

🔪🖤The next thing he would do was slowly take off his jumpsuit, (or whatever tf it’s called), and tease you a bit. He wouldn’t fully take off his clothes, and leave you there to beg for more.

🔪🖤And honey, you really did beg. You begged so badly that you were practically on your knees at this point. And he was amused by it. Definitely amused if you know what I mean.

🔪🖤You slowly crawled towards him, and pull it fully down to reveal his trousers. You could tell he was hard in an instant. You weren’t to sure how big it was at first, but once his boxers was off it was revealed in its entirety.

🔪🖤It seemed like a horse cock in your eyes. It was pretty thick, and was about 8 maybe 9 or 10 inches. No matter the size, you were still intrigued. You placed your hands on it in order to give him a good start. You just stroked it gently. Since it was your first time, you were very nervous. Extremely scared about this.

🔪🖤After stroking it softly, Michael was about to cum. He slowly grabbed your delicate head, and rammed it on his snake! He would then proceed to pull your hair while you were sucking it so delicately. When he was at his full release, he would cum inside your mouth and pull out. His last bit of white was all over your face. Just like he showed you.

🔪🖤From then on, when Michael was horny, he would bring you into his ‘sex dungeon’ of sorts. What you both discovered was that he was big into knife play. He enjoyed bringing your/his weapon up against your throat, and slowly licking your neck.

🔪🖤What you also found out was when Michael had extreme urges, he would deadass break into your match and fuck you in a bush or a closed off area. Sometimes you would ask, “what about the entity? What about the survivors?” But he didn’t care. All he wanted was you, and he was able to cum inside you. He didn’t give a flying fuck if someone like Jake Park saw this shit with his own eyes. Hell, he wouldn’t mind if he joined in! (Actually he definitely would).

🔪🖤Before you two would complete his desires, Michael would give you a piece of paper asking if you would partake in his acts, (even if you really wanted to for the whole day).

🔪🖤He also uses his sex toys during these phenomenons when the time comes. He also likes to put marks around you, add a collar on you, and degrade you when he’s really in an enraged mood.

🔪🖤Sometimes he’ll threaten to record a session on Danny’s camera if you don’t behave. Of course he wouldn’t do it since he doesn’t know how it works, but that usually gets you to behave in an instant.

🔪🖤Aftercare with Mikey is actually quite wholesome. After you use the bathroom, eat something sweet, or some other thing he’ll ask if your ok. If you say ‘yes’ then he’ll kiss you on the cheek and tell you how much he loves you. If you say ‘no’, he’ll start to feel bad and tell you how much he actually cares for you, and positive things to brighten your mood. He’ll even take you to Sally if you’re not feeling well.

Well I hope you enjoyed this headcannon I guess. I know it’s probably not up to your expectations, but I tried. And again thank you so much for requesting this. I was just shocked when someone finally said something! Thank you so much!

(Also please don’t mind the weird spaces! I copied and pasted this from my notes, so that’s the reason why the spacing is weird. I can’t stop it from doing that..)

[maybe-your-left]

Kylo doesn't like wearing the skirt? Imagine if he does wear one, you could see his third leg just swinging around.

kylo does NOT like the skirt.

———

“Hey,” you cooed. Running your finger across Kylos broad back from behind the couch. You leaned over the lip, giving him your best puppy eyes, “What if we did something new?”

“What do you mean,” he mumbled through a mouthful of cereal. Kylo didn’t even turn to look at you, staring directly at the screen. History channel was on, its more important than you. You traced your finger up to his ear, brushing his long hair back to expose it. Kylo shuddered as you traced it, giving you a sideways glare before taking another bite of his precious meal.

“I just wanna try some stuff with you...”

“What kind of stuff? We already do enough.”

“Like in the bedroom,” you leaned further, almost flopping into the couch in the process. “I wanna try something new.”

Kylo snorted, “I’ve already fucked all your holes, unless you want me to try and burst your eardrum there’s nothing new to work in.”

“Okay gross,” you sighed, “I was thinking some roleplay.”

“Oh.”

You had his attention now, you climbed over the lip. Perching next to him on your heels and puffing your bottom lip out. Being sure to press your breasts together so he was nice and buttered up. “I wanted to do like a school girl role play.”

“School girl?”

You nodded.

“Angel, we haven’t been in school in like 7 years. I’m almost 30.”

You groaned, slumping into his lap dramatically. Smushing your face into the cushion on the other side of his thigh, “That’s why it’s a role playyyyy.”

Kylo smacked the back of your thigh, “Dont fuckin’ whine. What would it even be? You getting a fucked for an A?”

“Not exactly...”

“You didn’t even get As in college.”

———

Three nights later you executed your plan, laying out a school girl uniform on the bed. Along with various toys, you were wearing a black lingerie set. Looking extra tantalizing for his royal jackass to come see you.

“I’m home,” you heard him holler from the kitchen, you perked up right away. Vibrating from excitement as you waited. Soon he strode through the door, dead in his tracks when he saw you.

“What’s this?” He asked, his eyes dancing across your skin and finally settling on the outfit. He scrunched his forehead, “Arent you supposed to have that on?”

You shook your head, your smile wide across your face.

“Well,” Kylo kept staring at it, “Whose it for then? This isn’t like a threeway thing again, right? Because last time you picked the girl and she didn’t stop calling me for a month.”

“It’s for you.”

Just when you thought he was froze before, he somehow became even stiffer. His smirk falling into a deep frown as he back away from the bed. “Why would I wear that,” he stuttered.

You crawled to the edge of the bed, grasping his collar before he could run away. Bringing him close to your face as you whispered, “Because I’m going to fuck your pretty little ass.”

Kylo visibly gulped, “Are you serious?”

You nodded your head, placing a plush kiss before you whispered again, “Since you’ve been such a slut, needing to get your grades up by fucking your teacher.”

“Oh my god, your fucking serious right now.”

“Get your outfit on,” you pushed him away, “Dont keep me waiting.”

———

“This thing is uncomfortable,” Kylo whined from the bathroom, he had been in there for 10 minutes. You weren’t sure if he spent it cleaning himself or trying to break out through the window, but you were done waiting.

“Come out here or I’m giving you an F!”

“I thought you were giving me a D!”

“Just for that,” you sneered through the door, “I’m not going gentle!”

Kylo finally emerged, face beet red and scrunched in embarrassment. You were so excited, it was so snug on him. Caressing his muscles, every dip and bulge of his skin, right down to his cock. Which was harder than you expected, peaking out from under the pleating.

You placed your palms on his cheeks, sloppy kisses against his mouth. Kylo hummed into you, the tension from before melting away as he wrapped his large hands around your waist. His fingers digging into your skin as your tongues danced. You grinded into him, causing him to hiss as you squeezed his cock between the two of you. “This better be worth it,” he growled into your mouth. Lifting you from the floor and walking the two of you to the bed.

Kylo slotted between your legs, pushing your open with a palm behind each knee. He stared down at your pussy, glistening and bare. Lips parting as he spread your legs more. Kylo gathered some spit, letting it fall on your clit before he rocked his cock against you. The skirt pulled back enough for him to coat him in your juices.

“Baby,” you whined, “I’m supposed to be fucking you.”

Kylo shook his head, “Not yet, professor, I need to be sure your good enough to fuck my ass.”

His hand dropped your leg, popping the tip inside you. You moaned at the stretch, even after all these years together. He still split you, stretching and pushing you apart to make room for his monster cock. Kylo grunted as he sunk inside you, a loud squelch when he was flush with your hips.

“Am I good enough?”

He nodded silently, sucking in a breathe through his teeth before pounding into you. Anchoring himself over you, his stupid skirt covering the image of his cock ripping you.

“You like getting fucked by me?” he growled, “In this stupid outfit?”

You dug your nails into his shoulders, pulling him down to your face. “It’s a mandatory uniform you filthy slut.”

Kylo growled again, slamming harder and harder into you. He latched his mouth to your neck, sucking a deep purple welt. “Everyone’s gonna know you let one of your students fuck you, you’re going to get fired.”

You grabbed his face between your thumb and forefinger, just the way he does to you, “Do you want the whole class to know I fucked you?” Kylo froze, trying to work his jaw close from your steel grip. You brought his real close, “Get on your fucking hands and knees, you need to earn your grade.”

Shockingly enough, Kylo obeyed without a word. The slight whine from his throat was all you heard when he pulled out. Centering himself on the bed and bending over, you smiled when you saw him. His firm, pale ass up in the air for you.

And nestled inside in was a plug, just for you to take out.

You brought a finger to it, taping the base experimentally. “Look at you,” you mused, giving a light tug to it, Kylo shuddered underneath you. Nuzzling his face into the duvet, he let out a lewd moan. “Fuck Angel,” he whimpered, spreading his legs a little wider for you. Even arching his back so you would reward him with more touches.

“Are you eager to get fucked?”

Kylo nodded, “I’m eager to get this skirt off, now fuck me.”

You scowled at it him.

“Please,” he whimpered.

You reached to your side, grabbing the strap to nestle inside you. Being sure to place the base right over your aching clit, you then squirted copious amounts of lube on the length. Fucking yourself with a fist while you tugged at the plug. Kylo groaned beneath you as the largest part pulled out. Exhaling hotly once it was free, you wasted no time bringing the tip to him. Thrusting your hips slowly, you scratched your nails up his thighs. Digging them into his skin just the way he likes.

“Okay Ky?”

He nodded into the blankets, “Mhm, please move. I’m going to fucking cum if you don’t do something.”

You smiled, snapping your hips into him. Both of you groaning out from the double sided toy. You saw one of Kylos arms fold under his chest, tugging at his weeping cock. Still slick from your pussy, you canted into him. A symphony of smacks, moans, and cries as you fucked him.

Kylo cried out, “Fucking fuck! Cumming... I’m fucking cumming!” His body seized below you, followed by more choking sobs as he sat up on his hands and sank back into you. His cock spurting cum all over the covers, pooling between his legs as he trembled.

You softly pushed into him, trying to move him off so you could get out. Kylo took the hint, wincing as you pulled away. Quickly standing from the bed to grab towels and water for him.

When you came back he was still panting, laying in a u-shape around his mess. A weak had stretched out to grab the bottle, chugging the entirety in one move.

“I’m never wearing the skirt again.”

———

i’m hot and HARD.

TAGGING: @finn-ray-nal-beads @caillea @roanniom @contesa-lui-alucard @historyandfandoms50 @relationshipwithmybed @emeraldsiren20 @shesakillerkween @jynz-andtonic

[shhhlikeme]

“Losty Aone” / “Losty Mountain Man🏔” Series:

Outtake Collection #18.5:

———————————

A/N: I know y’all wanna know what happens here sooo I’ll meet you down at the end with more of my authors notes!

TABLE OF CONTENTS

———————————

EARLIER THAT NIGHT - 10:36 PM - ISSA MESS AT THE MOVIES - PART 2 😭🤡

“Hey. You sure you don’t want us to go with you? I can cancel with my parents and—“

You interrupted your friend, waving her off nonchalantly as you jumped out of the back her car. “No, no, Kusa. Thank you for driving me. You guys didn’t need to! But I really appreciate it. I need this time by myself to just…. You know…. Breathe.” 

Kusa frowned at you, still look unsure as to whether she should leave you alone at the theatre or not. Going to the movies alone is a little weird in her opinion, and she knows that you have still been so heartbroken from your breakup, so the fact that Aone had been asked out by one of the girls on the Date Teko cheer team that you considered a friend really hit you hard. 

Despite it all, she and Katana have agreed to let you deal with this the way you see fit, because forcing their desires on you wasn’t the right way to go, and the last time they tried that you cut them off for a week. They had to tread very carefully, as friends. 

“Okay, babe. Call us when you want to get picked up, Okay? We don’t mind.”

You nodded, wrapping your favourite jacket around you a bit more tightly. The sweater-jacket that actually belonged to the man you were in love with. “Thank you.” 

Shutting the door, you stepped back so that Kusa could drive away. 

Katana, who was sitting in the passengers seat, pressed the button to roll up her window and You gave them one last wave, ready to see them off, but just before you could Katana—quiet and deep in thought, pressed the same button to roll the window back down. The car didn’t budge.

“Y/N.” The pretty cheer captain said in a small voice, staring at her lap. You had to lean in to hear her.  

“Hm?”

Big brown eyes looked into yours as your bestie stared at you. It was silent for a moment and the intensity in the air was palpable. Finally, the brunette spoke. 

“I’m worried about you.” She finished, looking more serious than you’ve ever seen her. 

Earlier this Saturday night, you found yourself crying in the shower after you heard that an ex teammate of yours, Sutairu, is interested and has decided to pursue Aone. 

This girl was gorgeous, sweet, and has noticed your Mountain Man from day one, unlike you. There is not one bad thing you can say about her, and you were sure that eventually—especially with Futakuchi’s help—Aone would some day let his walls down for her. One day you would see the most perfect man in the world with another girl because you let him. 

And even though it’s what he deserves: a girl that is better than you, the thought alone shatters you every time it crosses your mind. 

Aone was on this girls instagram story,—a photo of him in another hoodie standing in front of the students he teaches with a caption saying: MCM🤫💋❄️

What did that mean? Could they be dating now? 

Enough was enough. After crying in your shower, You decided you needed a change in scenery, so you got dressed, only putting on concealer and keeping the natural state of your hair when it’s wet. You threw on a huge cardigan, a tank top and some jeans and told the girls what you had planned. Kusa wouldn’t take no for answer, so they insisted on dropping to you at the theatre to see this action-thriller you found on the website. 

So here you are, heart dragging behind you on the floor. You needed to be alone and you needed a change of scenery, that’s all you knew. So now hearing your besties and seeing the absolute fear for your well-being evident on their faces, made your stomach turn even more. Mainly because you couldn’t help them help you. No one can. So that’s why all you answered was, 

“I’m worried too.” Staring into the eyes of the two beautiful females you call your best friends. You then Added, “But I need this hour, okay?. I’ll see you guys later. I have my phone.” Without waiting for a response, you spun away from the car to walk into the large building downtown, straight to the bathroom so you could cry in the stalls prior to the movie.

After you spent a good 10 minutes using toilet paper to wipe under your eyes, then reapplying some conveniently packed concealer there in the mirror, you stuffed the Fenty Beauty case in your purse and walked out of the bathroom so that you can purchase your ticket at the self-serve automated machine. You had grabbed your ticket when it slid out the slot and were began walking to your designated theatre when you heard a familiar voice call out to you. 

“Hey! Y/N?”

Turning toward the voice, you looked over to see a group of 4 boys, all of which you’ve seen before, but in volleyball practice gear. While they were all staring over at you, naturally—your eyes settled on the one in the middle that you recognized the most. And the one who called your name. 

“Takeru,” You breathed, honestly relieved that it wasnt someone from school that you had to pretend you wanted to speak to. Takeru is someone you genuinely liked, that you actually got close to at the Volleyball/Cheer Camp last summer. 

“One sec!” He called, and you stood there waiting as Nakashima handed his card to his friends that were waiting at the ticket kiosk. One of them must have said something annoying to him, because Takeru blushed and told him to shut the fuck up. Feeling scrutinized by his friends, you wrapped your arms around your torso as he stealthily limbo-ed under the rope that divided the line from from the rest of the theatre. 

***

“Ouuu dudes, look. That’s Takanobu’s super hot girlfriend that you fell in love with last summer! This is your second chance bro, don’t fuck it up!” Takeru’s friend nudged him with his elbow and teased him from where he was standing in line. The other boys chuckled when he said that. 

Takeru went red—mostly because he knew it was true. “Shut the fuck up, I’m over her!” He defended himself. He resisted the urge to hit his friend for saying that out loud. Getting out the line because he couldn’t risk his dumb friends exposing his past crush like they almost did multiple times last summer, Nakashima escaped the line to approach you, finding himself jogging over, instead of walking. 

🤨

SLOW DOWN, Takeru told himself. ARE YOU REALLY THAT EXCITED TO SEE HER?

“Hi, Y/N!” The ex-high school volleyball player greeted you with a warm smile that neither of you had any idea was reserved for only you. “It’s been a while.” 

You forced a smile back, but you could see by the way that his own smile faltered that Takeru noticed your smile didn’t reach your eyes. “You okay?” He asked, concerned. 

Lying, you nodded, looking down at your boots and Nakashima resisted the urge to reach forward and tilt your head up. To touch your beautiful skin like he’s wanted to do since the first day you approached him for help, he really thought those emotions had fled… but being around you again made him realize that obvioulsy they hadn’t. 

She’s taken, idiot. The athlete reminded himself. 

“Is Takanobu here?” Nakashima thought to ask, distinctly remembering how much just mentioning his name would bring a big smile to your face back at camp, lighting it up in its entirety. 

So imagine Takeru shock, however, when you winced at the sound of his name instead of beamed. Still staring at your boots, you shook your head. “No, I’m here alone.” 

Alone?

Ask. He told himself. ASK!

“Um-ummm—“ is all he could stutter out.

S m o o t h, idiot. he chastised himself for being so lame. 

“Please, Takeru-san,” you lifted your head to look up at the man you considered to be a pretty good friend. “Don’t.” 

Even though his mind was buzzing with a million questions, Being the smart volleyball player he is, Takeru shut his mouth because the tears welling up in your eyes was enough of an answer than any. His heart sunk seeing you look so unbelievably broken. Without missing a beat, He switched gears. “—What movie are you seeing?” He asked instead. 

You grinned weakly but gratefully at his change in topic, a smile that actually did reach your eyes. “Uh, I don’t even know,” you chuckled pathetically. “I just picked any random movie, um, because, yeah.” 

She’s so cute, thought Nakashima. “Well it’s written on your ticket. Shall we see?” 

“Oh, uh, right.” Feeling dumb, you lifted the ticket in your hand and read the movie title aloud,

 “Jet Down 2.” 

A large amused smile graced Takeru’s face. “Really—that is probably the biggest ‘guy’ movie ever made,”

You nodded, not wanting to mention that hearing the title made you remember that your ex loved the original of this movie. Your nod introduced Takeru and yourself to an awkward silence. You weren’t about to tell him that you picked a movie that you’d be the least interested in so that you can cry in peace because the sounds of shit blowing up will drown out your sobs, no ma’am. If this was any other time, you would have been so happy to see and catch up with this boy. Asking a million questions and telling him how happy you were to see him. But unfortunately, all you could think about was the “MCM” Snapchat you saw earlier. You were devastated, and Takeru caught on to it.... seeing you about to shatter, yet again. He offered his help. 

“Want some company? Uh—“

You immediately shook your head. “No, Takeru-san! You came here with your friends. Enjoy that. Don’t mind me, I....“

Nakashima stared down at you like you were a work of art. When you stopped your pathetic babbling, he nodded slowly, recognizing the same expressions he’s seen his sister’s wear when they were on the verge of crying over a boy. Right before they yelled him to leave their room, leave them alone, and shut the door. The same rule probably applied here. Like an expert, Nakashima backed off. “Okay,” he continued nodding. “I guess I’ll go then. It was really nice seeing you.” He opened his arms and you leaned in for a chaste hug, immediately wishing the male arms around you belonged to a certain white haired volleyball player instead. 

Takeru, on the other hand, didn’t realize how much he missed the feel of you in his arms again. He didn’t want to let go. He wished that the feelings you had for Aone-san were for him. Stupid.

Uncharacteristically, Nakashima turned his head to whisper something in your ear before you let go. Before he never saw you again. “But, tonight, if you need a shoulder to cry on, I’m just one theatre over… Okay? I have a pretty comfortable shoulder, so just text me.” 

Holding back tears, you nodded, removing yourself to make your way to the bathroom again. 

***

Better late than never, you thought to yourself as you sadly sat in your seat in the theatre solo, unsure of how much time has even passed. You didn’t realize this stupid movie would be so packed, but you were thankful for assigned seating (since you specifically chose an aisle seat in case you needed to make another fast-cry escape). You just sat in your seat, curling into a ball and trying to hold it together the best you can.

You couldn’t.

Another 10-minutes later, you found yourself ugly crying in your three-quarter eaten popcorn, completely drenching the salty snack and making it soggy. 

A MESS, you called yourself. This movie was about guns and cars and shit blowing up—but all it took was one tiny little subplot romance scene to break you. LIKE I SAID: A MESS. 

One little stupid ‘be safe’ scene and you were thinking about the time you went to the movies with your ex boyfriend and current love of your life. That time, you had insisted on watching this scary movie but you were getting so unbelievably scared, refusing to leave when your boyfriend offered because you are strong af, so when you resorted to hiding yourself behind his bicep and whimpering instead. Takanobu had enough when he heard you make those sad noises, so he scooped you up from your seat so that you were sitting in his lap. That way, you felt his strong arms around you on boy sides and you were easily able to bury your face in his chest or finish the movie. You finished the movie.🥰

 You would like to say that that was one of the sweetest things that has ever happened to you, but what with being in a relationship with Aone Takanobu for the past year—that absolutely tooth rottenly sweet gesture wouldn’t even crack the Top 10. 

Your tears poured down your cheeks, and you imperceptibly wiped your tears on the sweater of his that you were wearing. Then you realized whose sweater it was and cried even harder! Your heart hurt so much. 

And to make matters worse, you ran out of tissues. 

Knowing that with your luck you’d run into someone you knew if you left now with a completely drenched face. A/N: or turned around :/desperate and sad, you decided to text your friend Takeru about your dilemma. All you asked him for were some tissues because he sort of knew what you were going through even though you didn’t spell it out for him. You hoped he could help for now and then later tonight you’d send him back the money he spent on his movie or something. You kept erasing the message but decided to send it when others in your row were possibly on to the fact that you were sniffling so much for more serious reasons. 

You sent it. Received a response within seconds saying he was on his way. 

Nakashima stumbled in to your the theatre not long after. You waved to him where you were seated in the dark, and he came over like a good friend, giving you a brand new popcorn and a set of tissues. You smiled weakly at the kind gesture and remembered that Aone is the entire reason why this boy Takeru is even here right now. Your tears re-established themselves as your date on this your solo movie night as you leaned your head on Nakashima’s shoulder, who told you that if Aone broke up with you he was an idiot. 

“I’m the idiot,” You whispered to him, because even if it was just a fleeting thought—Aone didn’t deserve any blame. Ever. He is undoubtedly the best person on this planet. “It’s me,” You whispered again, glad that your whiney voice was no match for the volume of the explosions on screen. You blew your nose in a tissue and resumed your position on Takeru’s shoulder. The gesture was platonic enough, but you realized then and there that there was only one shoulder you felt comfortable leaning on, whether it was friendly or not. You sat back up in your seat and met the gaze of a concerned volleyball player.  

“Takeru, I’m so sorry. Can you bring me home—“ the request died on your tongue as you witnessed, or at least you think you did— a dark blur of a a large body with…silver? No, white hair racing down the stairs as if he’d been pushed down them. The figure turned on its heels and fled the theatre in a faster speed than should be possible for a body so large. 

The oddness stopped you in your tracks for a second.

Why did that person-?

You were confused, until a waft of fresh mountainous breeze hit your nostrils, making you gasp. It was The best scent in the world. The scent that was vaguely imbedded in the sweater you were wearing. The scent that belonged to—oh God. You choked on your tears.

“Was that…..?” Your tear stained face scrunched together, trying to piece two-and-two together as your losty brain overworked itself. 

“What were you going to say? You want a drive home?” You could faintly hear Nakashima’s question even though he was right beside you. You were too busy thinking about how that couldn’t have been Aone who stormed out of here, would he choose this movie—oh my—

Lightbulb turning on, you whipped your entire upper body around and searched the seats for someone recognizable. While your scanning stopped momentarily on a few students from school, they ultimately swam to the person or persons you were looking for: There! Kenji-san and Koganagewa-san, two males who were looking at you and Takeru as if you two were the villains in the movie that just popped out of the screen. 

So that WAS Aone!

Why didn’t he come say hi?! 

Your heart started racing. Because you loved him. 

But if that was Aone..... 

Then why did he leave in such a hurry like that…?

And why were his friends looking at you and Nakashima like we…..?

Hold on. 

Your eyes take a mind of their own, whipping from Futakuchi, to Kanji, to Takeru, to Takeru’s shoulder that you ere just laying on, back to the vacant seat where Aone must have been sitting in the between his two friends, and then you looked down at your sweater—his sweater. You thought back to Aone’s shattered expression when you broke up with him by the Ferris wheel and then you saw your own brisk walk from that night redone in his body in the way he just left this theatre blur.

Oh no, You thought. Did this look like a…? With Takeru…?!

OH GOD NO. 

Your heart dropped like one of those rides at the amusement park: 

“Y/N. Are you okay? You look like you’re going to be sick! I can bring you home if you— Y/N? Y/N WAIT LET ME GET MY KEYS—!“ 

You were already gone, leaving your purse, wallet, phone and everything behind—not having to jump over anyones legs to run down the stairs and out of the theatre. You weren’t as fast as Aone, not by a long shot—but you’d be surprised how fast a girl can move when she’s running to the love of her life. 

Running around the empty theatre because everyone was watching a movie, you quickly checked the boys bathroom (not caring that you shouldn’t be in there) before realizing it was empty and then sprinting outside in to the cold night. 

Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone. Please don’t be gone, you chanted. 

Your head snapped left and right, eyes scanning the parking lot for Aone’s car, and when you spotted it signalling and waiting to make a right out of the theatre, you dangerously raced toward it! Heart pumping, you jumped in front of the vehicle with both hands extended in front of you as if you had the strength to stop the car from moving if you could. 

The horn of the car honked dramatically, followed by a head that was not your Mountain Man’s sticking out the window to shout profanities at you to get the fuck out of the way. 

Stepping back shakily, you automatically went back to scanning the lot again for the same 4 wheeler, because locating that car was ALL that mattered right now. 

Finding HIM was all that mattered.

You had to be more cautious now in your search. More purposeful. 

Far back, hundreds of meters from where you were standing you could make out a car that you somehow knew was his. Something, just something, told you it was, and your heart started racing even faster. The lights had turned on like the driver was about to leave, and then it shut off again as if the driver changed their mind about leaving. Without thinking about it, only listening to the pull in your heart that said your man was over there, you used your years of cheerleading experience to catapult you toward the parked vehicle.

When you got closer, your heart squeezed on its own accord as if someone was making pizza dough with it. Slowing down, you took in the sight that was your ex boyfriend sitting in the driver’s seat of his car, white hair visible only because his head was down, forehead kissing the steering wheel, his shoulders vibrating slightly because he is crying. It’s him.

Position:

Not stopping to think anymore, acting on pure love and instinct, you sped over to the driver’s side and tugged the door open. Thank God it was unlocked.

This giant mountain man didn’t move from his position crying on the steering wheel. Only muttering a broken, “Kenji-san, please leave me—“

“Not Justin Bieber look-alike!” You croaked loudly, heart pounding when this gorgeous man’s head lifted as soon as you uttered your first syllable. He looked you up and down and your breath caught in your throat. You’ve NEVER seen such a beautiful man cry before, and although it tugged at what was left of your heart—you thought he looked breathtaking. 

“Y/N…..? D-did Kenji-san send you out-t-t he-here? I apolo-pologize—“

You shook your head, unable to stop yourself from pouring your heart out. 

“Hey. Remember the other day after you helped me film my cheerleading tryout, you said that you were happy we were fr-friends?” You asked sharply, ignoring his apology for now, and forever grateful for the fact that you had major cojones when you wanted to. They came in handy at times like this. 

With red puffy eyes, Aone wiped his face and then nodded, making you melt. 

“Well,” You took a shaky breath, sliding your own tears to the side before you left your heart out on the table for this man. 

“Well, I’m not your friend, Aone.” 

Aone visibly swallowed, his eyes welling up with tears again. He hated himself so much for crying like this. 

“I-I know, not y-yet, bu-but I was hoping one day you’d-d—“ Mountain man didn’t even know what he wanted to say, he was dead.

“No. I’m not your friend.” You repeated yourself, watching a shiver run through Takanobu due to the chill in your voice and the intensity your eyes held.

You could sense that he wasnt getting where you were going with this play on words, so you cut to the chase. Hopefully he would get it after hearing what he had to say next, just like you did when he said these same words to you once in a bowling alley. 

“The reason I can’t be your friend is because I like you so much more than a friend, Aone. You have no idea how much more.” 

Aone shivered again, his beautiful lips separating because his jaw dropped slightly. He recognized his words on your lips now, you could tell. He was understanding how you felt now, so you continued anxiously:

“Everything about you drives me absolutely insane, Takanobu. Your spirit, your love, the way you are the only man I will ever love……even the way you can’t notice that your ex is still madly in love with you, and that she only came here tonight to cry over you alone but ran into someone, and even though she was dumb enough to break up with you.”

Aone’s jaw had just dropped wider as you spoke, his mind reeling. 

You stepped in closer to where he was sitting in his car, closing the distance because you just couldn’t stand being any further from him anymore. You also wanted to whisper this next part. You wanted him to know that his confession to you was etched in your brain so much so that you could recite it in a moments notice, even if that said moment was full of pure emotional madness like right now. 

“I’m not your friend, Aone.” You repeated once again. “I don’t want to be. I want to be everything else for you. Everything more. Takanobu, I have a confession to make.” You used both of your cold hands to cup his cheeks, his beautiful, red, stubble filled, wet cheeks.

“I love you. I love you, my Mountain Man. I love you more than I did yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. I loved you on the Ferris wheel, and I loved you when you filmed my tryouts. I love you Right now, and I will forever. I will explain everything, I promise. But there has never been, nor will there ever be anyone else for me other than you, Aone-san.” 

You giggled through your tears because Takanobu looked so confused but happy. It was an odd expression, but very cute. You continued, 

“I know we get called Losties a lot which used to bother me, but you know what: maybe we are, but that’s besides the point—because all I know is that I used to hate being called that…. Until I met you.” You leaned in so that your foreheads were touching. “When I met you, Aone-san....... I stopped caring about being lost….... none of it mattered to me.......insofar as we were lost together. Together with you is the only way I want to go through life, Aone, so I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for letting my insecurities drive me and I’m sorry for possibly confessing to you when you have someone else. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m—“

Mountain Man imitated your gesture of cupping your cheeks in his large hands, wiping away your tears like you did to him. 

And then, without saying another word like he was good at—

He slid you into his lap sitting in the front seat, back in the same position he pulled you in the last time you two were at this theatre—

and then he kissed you. 

It was a kiss so passionate that you gasped into it, needing him, needing him like a hiker needed their mountain. A kiss so passionate it l lasted for the remaining duration of the movie (no word of a lie) because you refused to let each other go—but most importantly: it was a kiss that made you realize that you and Mountain Man weren’t just two losties lost together like you mentioned a bit ago—no. Absolutely not. Actually, this kiss was so passionate it made you realize that you were really two losties that were lost in every aspect in life—minus one:

Because you two could never be lost when it came to your feelings for one another. Finding true love happened to be the only aspect of life that most people on this planet remained lost in, which happened to be the exact aspect of life where you and Aone have both been….

Found. 

🐢

🐢

🐢

———————————

A/N: That’s it! I am secretly here to let y’all know that there will be one more collection post next time I write, and that post will be the end of this losty series. I will cry when that time comes lmao but for now tysm for reading this marathon - I would loooove to hear your thoughts! I literally die when you guys comment or send me private messages reacting. It makes my whole day istg. Anyways, Wishing you all the best as always. See you next time. Xoxo

Taglist: @galagcica @chaichai-the-weeb @nairobiisqueen @bisasterrr @juminly @simply-not-the-same @marvelousbakugou @qyuanon

[willwriteforhugs]

the boy in the bookstore (part three)

in which you meet a suspiciously handsome boy in your favorite bookstore- but are not cultured enough to know his true identity.

part one

part two

ateez scenario

yeosang x (fem) reader

word count: 1.6k

g: fluff, angst if you’re a sensitive bitch

warnings: intrusive thoughts, alcohol, & heavy drinking (please drink responsibly lol)

a/n: parts one and two of this fic are linked at the top of this post. when the whole fic is completed, i plan on posting it in it’s entirety. happy reading!

- allison

part three

over the next few weeks, you and yeosang continue to talk. nothing too serious- just occasional texting and one (1) trip to the bookshop. you can tell he's much busier than he lets on, because he takes ages to answer your messages. at first this stressed you out, but now you suspect it's just his day job keeping him occupied. today, you shoot him a quick text before you leave for class. (7 am lecture. what the hell.)

you: hey, wanna get together this week? it's occurred to me that you're basically my only friend in this fucking city lol

you: and i should probably get out

you: i heard it's good for the soul

you cringe internally. why would you let yourself ramble like that? besides, you don't even like him romantically, don't make him think you do. ugh. maybe stop overthinking, y/n.

you force the embarrassing text messages out of your mind, leaving your small apartment before you can consider just skipping the lecture.

- - - 

as you walk along campus, (post-lecture, thank god) you feel your cell phone buzz in your pocket. you pull it out to check your messages. when you see yeosang's name, your heart skips a beat.

yeosang: good for the soul, huh? where the hell did you hear that

you: idk can't u just let me rant

you hesitate sending that message. you find it odd that you can have such a casual conversation with someone like yeosang. besides, you'd only known him less than a month. how was he so easy for you to talk to?

yeosang: lol okay

yeosang: but yes i'd like to go out but i'm only free tomorrow, does that work?

you: that works fine yea

yeosang: what were you wanting to do..?

you falter again. you had no idea... you hadn't really gotten that far in planning.

you: honestly idrk??

yeosang: well

yeosang: how about we just go get a drink or something

you: like alcohol?

yeosang: yes????

you can't help but giggle. how did he send so much attitude through a text? you let the conversation taper off naturally, and the two of you agree to go get drinks tomorrow evening. yeosang knows a place, apparently.

you set down your phone and sigh.

a beat passes, and suddenly it hits you. was this a date? had you just accidentally asked yeosang on a date??? you curse out loud. does he think it's a date? but he said yes, so he couldn't possibly-

you force yourself to stop thinking. you know that if you don't snuff those thoughts now, you probably wouldn't be able to go tomorrow. dammit, y/n.

deep breath in.

deep breath out.

he's just a friend.

- - - 

you narrow your eyes as you glare at your reflection in the mirror. nope, this top does not look cute on you. why did you ever think it had? you walk back to your closet and dig through the mess of clothes you've created. you've spent the last 30 minutes trying on outfits, unsure on what to wear. you desperately wish you had some girlfriends to help you out- but the closest you have are your coworkers, and you aren't really friends with any of them.

10 more minutes pass, and when you glance at the clock, your heart almost stops. shit. you're gonna be late. you turn in a desperate circle, and finally just shove on a dark green sweater, leftover from last christmas. on top of your loose jeans, you look slightly ragged, but you don't have time to think. you grab your bag and leave the apartment in a rush.

the heels of your boots click as you walk along the road. it's only seven, but the sun has already set, and the streets are relatively quiet.

it only takes you a few minutes to arrive at the address yeosang had sent you. you come to a halt, staring up at the building in front of you. it looks busy, and you can hear the sound of many conversations happening inside.

"y/n-ssi!"

you turn at the sound of your name. yeosang is standing under the awning of the building, wearing ripped jeans and a lazy button up shirt. your heart flutters at the sight of him.

"oh, hey," you manage, walking over to meet him. he nods at you and opens his mouth, about to say something, but he hesitates. after a moment, he says: "you look nice."

heat crawls up your neck, and you look at the ground. "oh. thank you." you glance back up, your eyes flickering to the exposed skin of his collarbone. "you look good too."

you hear his breath catch. another moment passes, and he looks up again. "let's go inside?" he asks.

the two of you make your way into the bar, searching for a table. you manage to spot one at the back of the room. it's a two person table, and it's perfect. you sit down awkwardly, face still flushed. you feel so stupid. this is practically a date. why would he agree to it? you wish you were already drunk.

yeosang sits across from you, and asks what you want to drink. you tell him soju is fine, and he stands up, beginning to walk away.

"wait, hold on! take my card." you say, holding it out to him.

he shakes his head. "no, it's fine. this one's on me."

you begin to protest, but he reaches out and grabs your hand, placing it back on the table. before you can say anything, he walks away, pulling out his own wallet.

you feel like stone. on the table, your hand burns as a result of his touch. you shove your face into your hands.

you don't like him. you don't like him. you don't like him. you don't like-

yeosang's return rips you from your thoughts. he sets three beers on the table, and takes his seat. you look up at him, not sure if you'll be able to survive the night.

"are you okay?" he asks, sounding genuinely concerned. "you seem kind of upset."

you let out a high-pitched giggle, and reach for one of the beers. "oh, i'm fine. totally fine." you grunt, trying to open the bottle. the cap wouldn't budge. you try again, and when that doesn't work, you bring the bottle to your teeth.

yeosang reaches over and snatches the bottle from you. "you're so weird," he mumbles, opening the bottle on the first try. you make a face, and take the drink back, taking a long sip. he cocks an eyebrow, and reaches to open his own.

you guzzle your drink, grateful for the distraction. maybe too grateful, though, because after a moment, you choke on your drink. sputtering, you laugh a little. you glance up at yeosang, and he’s smiling, too. you imagine you probably look stupid as hell, but his eyes sparkle. suddenly, he moves his hand up to your face, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip. 

“got a bit of soju there,” he mumbles, but his hand hovers. 

your face burns, and his does too. but neither of you look away. 

you lean forward slightly, suddenly yearning to close the gap between your open mouths. 

he looks down, leaning back in his chair. the connection breaks.

what the hell? you think. had you just wanted to kiss yeosang? you must be tipsier than you’d thought...

as the night continues, the two of you manage to keep a light conversation going, in between the drinks. twenty minutes pass, and you've already finished two beers. you stand up, ready to order more, but yeosang grabs your wrist. "hey, maybe you should slow down."

you shake your head. all you want is to be drunk right now. your random almost-kiss had your brain in overdrive. everything is stressing you out, and if you don't get drunk soon, you might lose your mind. being around yeosang was too much. you wanted to leave, but you wanted to be with him. you wanted for him to go, but you wanted to see him. you wanted him to stay away, but you wanted to touch him. what was going on? what were these feelings?

your counterpart sighs and raises his hand at the bartender, gesturing for another round.

 - - - 

thirty more minutes pass, and you're now three and a half sojus in, officially drunk. your thoughts spin and the ground tilts, but at least your breathing has evened out. you look up from the grain of the table, and find yeosang staring at you, a crease between his eyebrows.

"what?" you ask.

his gaze just hardens.

you like him you like him, no you DON'T you like him you like him you like him

"i didn't think you were gonna get plastered."

you plop your face onto the table, and he cringes. "well, i am. plastered, that is." you mumble against the wood. 

"mm-hmm. maybe we should go home."

you begin to argue, but yeosang has already gotten up, and is lifting you out of your seat. your whole body flushes with heat.

don't touch me. touch me. kiss me. go away.

he slings your arm around his shoulder and begins to lead you out. you can't help but notice how nice his body feels against yours. you can feel his toned muscles beneath his thin shirt.

on the street, yeosang turns to look at you. "i don't know where you live." he says, more to himself than to you.

you hum, not quite understanding his predicament. you want to sleep. suddenly, a thought occurred to you. "oh, yeosang-yah!"

he starts and turns back to you. "what?"

you force yourself off of him, stumbling towards a bench. he lurches for you, catching you around the waist. "what on earth are you doing?"

"i forgot to tell you." you mumble, lazily trying to push his hands off of you. "i can't handle my alcohol." and that's the last thing you manage before the world goes completely dark.

edit: part four is up now. thank you for reading!