#life is crazy lately but this remains my favorite place

[luna0713hunter]

Can you write more prompts for Zoro pleaseee? Thank you:))

Author's note : haha!!!i was actually gonna write a new fic for zoro when i saw your request!!!as always,ask and you shall receive!

College love

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Summary : new semester,new classes,new classmates and a new love

Warnings : none,College au (my favorite trope),studying and late night talks, gender neutral ,maybe more parts?,not me in the middle of exam season and dying from overworking myself

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

College sucks.

Everyone tells you college is great;its a place full of new experiences,a new life. Having coffee with friends after lectures and studying together,or simply doodling in your notebook as the professors talk about gods know what.

But as you sip your third cup of coffee that night and rub your eyes while yawning,you glance down at the remaining pages you have to go through before your exam in two days,before you groan and bang your head to the table.

Its exam season,and you're currently sitting in the library at 3:04 am.

College sucks so bad.

You know you have tomorrow to study as well,but between working part time job at a near the campus cafe, and going to lectures,you barely had any time to study.

You stared at your empty cup of coffee and sighed before standing up;then you guess its time to get a refill

✧

"wow,you look like shit."

You dont raise your head from the desk as you groan at your friend.

"hello to you too,Nami."

Nami drops his bag next to you with a 'Thump' and settles down. You feel her hand rub up and down your back (almost awkwardly) and through your misery you manage to crack a smile;being comforting is like a physical torture for your ginger friend.

"did you pull another all nighter?"

Slowly,your head turns in her directly and you narrow your eyes.

"not everyone can be both gorgeous and smart effortlessly like you,Nami. Us, lowly humans,have to choose one." You ignore her eye roll and continue, "and i choose the one that can get me a good job in the future."

"looks can be pretty useful too,honey."

"I'm going to choke you."

"be my guest."

You're too busy to bicker that you dont even notice the door of the class opening and a new person stepping inside. Just as Nami's about to wrap her arm your neck and choke you instead, that's when your eyes land on the new person in the class.

And your breath stops all together.

The first thing that catches your eyes is his green hair. The man is tall,and a mess of green hair making his brown eyes stand out more. There are three golden piercings on his left ear. His black leather jacket looks expensive,and you dont need to see the key to guess that he's probably owns a motorcycle..

"y/n!" You realize you've been staring shamelessly at the man and suddenly whip your head in Nami's direction.

"Nami!" You grip her shoulders and shake her violently, "who's that?!why havent i seen him around?do you know him??is he single???!!"

Nami shoulders off your hands and looks at you like you've grown a second head.

"He's Zoro Roronoa. Our classmate. You haven't seen him cause he almost never shows up at lectures. What the hell is wrong with you exactly?"

"what's wrong with me is that the man is drop dead gorgeous," you frown at her, "and geez girl. How do you know so much about him?"

"cause he's my "kinda friend". We go out drinking together sometimes."

"WHAT?!"

Your shriek is so loud,that when you turn around, you see mr.gorgeous is eyeing you with annoyance.

Great. Your new crush thinks you're crazy.

You duck your head as your cheeks burn with embarrassment. Nami rubs your back sympathetically and you groan tiredly.

"want me to introduce you to him?"

"hell no," you whine and rest your cheek against your desk; letting the surface cooling down your heated skin, "he obviously hates my guts now."

"to be fair,Zoro hates everybody's guts."

"its just a crush Nami," you flash her a smile, "it'll go away eventually."

Unfortunately,it in fact,doesnt go away eventually.

After your embarrassing moment in the classroom,you seem to run into Zoro awfully alot; Whether it be getting a coffee from the near campus cafe,or working your shift there,you seem to always see him.

Zoro liked his coffee black,that was no surprise. The first time that you surved him the black hell,he hadnt even batted an eye at your shakey hands or your stutter.

And you were certain that he had forgotten all about you.

Among the finals creeping close and closer,and with you drowning yourself under your books until morning before going back to your lectures or job,you had completely forgotten all about him.

So when you drop your head on your text book at almost 4 am and try hard not to burst into tears or having a mental breakdown in the almost empty library,you almost scream when a warm can of coffee touches your cheek.

Your head snaps up,and your mouth parts into a small scream that soon gets an ugly glare from the librarian. You shoot her an apologizing look,before turning your head back to the person in front of you.

Zoro freaking Roronoa,holds the coffee in his hand and gives you an unimpressed annoyed look.

"why are you always so loud?"

You dont answer;your mouth hangs open from the shock,and you blink a few times to make sure you're not hallucinating.

"what," you clear your throat, "i,uh, excuse me?"

Zoro rolls his eyes and sits down in front of you while dropping his own backpack on the table. He then slides the drink in front of you and while folding his arms across his chest,he eyes you for a second before looking away.

"you look like a mess. Figured you needed some coffee," he gives you a displeased look from the corner of his eyes, "or some sleep."

Your hands wrap themselves around the warm can;and a small laugh escapes your dry lips.

"you think i can sleep with all these books?i can barely manage between lectures and my part time job with only two hours of sleep as it is!" And for some reason,your stupid brain decides that its a great idea to cry in front of your crush;as if you haven't embarrassed yourself before. So your lower lip starts to wobble,and you let out a small sniffle.

There's a moment of silence;where neither of you say a word. With you starting to finally breakdown,and Zoro just glaring at the textbooks like they had personally offended him. Finally,after a while,you hear him sigh and look up at him with your blurry vision.

"... I'll help you."

"what?"

Another sigh.

"i said, I'll help you study. Im familiar with this stuff,so it'll be nothing."

You let out a loud gasp and stand up from your sit .

"Seriously?!wont you need that time to study?!"

"helping you makes me remember these stuff. It'll be alright."

And when you hold his hands in his,you grin so widely that you feel your cheeks hurting. You shake his hands and laugh lightly.

"thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!!!"

"yea yeah." He shakes off your hands and stands up,and amongst your joy,you manage to catch a small smile on his lips. Zoro flings his backpack on his shoulder and walks away. He gives you one last look and says "go home and rest for now. See you tomorrow."

And suddenly,the world doesnt seem so bad. College doesn't suck,and your crush, apparently,doesnt hate your guts after all.

[tosweetiee]

You, me, and us.

let me tell you how much i love him. he is sunsets and tired eyes and messy hair and ripped jeans and late night laughter and spilt coffee and the smell before it rains  and sleepless nights and bad 90s movies and new music and poetry and whispers at 4 a.m. and ice cream and denim and no destination drives and sunday morning. he my moon, my universe, my love, my sun, my lovetaker, my world, and he is everything lovely. i love you so much that words cannot begin to describe it. i want to spend all of eternity with you and never leave your side. there are three things in this world that will always remain a constant: the sun will rise, the wind will blow, and i will love you. you are like a ray of light in dark places. whenever things get rough and i lost all hope, you appear out of no where and save me from destruction. you're truly my savior, my hero, my prince charming ... my everything. i want to grow old with you. not just mature, i mean REALLY grow old. i never want to lose you, cs you are the love of my life.

okay next! CAN I JUST SAY SMTHNG CRAZY ABOUT U? i want to tell u something! do you know? how lucky i am to have u. IM SO HAPPY AND VERY VERY LUCKY. aku udah pernah cerita ke kakak sebelumnya aku tiap deket sama cowo pasti berakhir jelek, sampe aku takut buat mulai hubungan lagi sama cowo lain. tapi, setelah kakak datang ke hidup aku, aku ngerasa bener bener dicinta banget sama kakak. selama aku main rp, baru kali ini nemu yang cintanya setara bukan yang salah satu doang excited nya. sebelum ketemu kakak tuh, aku ngerasa hidup aku kaya ada yang kurang gitu, setelah kakak datang ke hidup aku malah idup aku jadi lebih berwarna pas ada kakak 😵‍💫 MY KINDA love only for u! aku sayang bangettt sama kakakk! kalau kakak gamau percaya juga gapapa. but, tolong kasih aku harapan ya? harapan buat nanti kita berdua bisa bersama untuk selamanya hehe ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა kakak, kalau nanti kita udah ga sama sama lagi, aku harap kakak jangan pernah lupa sama aku ya? aku gapernah nyesel pernah ketemu sama kakak di kehidupan ini. u ARE my woOrld 🌎🤍 IM REALY EXCITED for this! kalau ada yang jahat sama kakak, kasi tau aku ya? nanti aku tonjok orang nya hehee. 🤏🏻

live, laugh, love, Asterius.

kakak dengerin lagu ini deh, ini lagu favorite aku. masukin ke playlist kakak biar kakak ga denger dj sama dangdut terus 🤏🏻

denger ini jugaa! kalo kata Taylor Swift “ In a world of boys, he's a gentleman ”, Daniel Caesar bilang “ If life is a movie, oh you're the best part ”.

AKU BINGUNG MAU NGETIK APALAGIII.

kakak choose ini ajaa 👇🏻

[marine-indie-gal]

Dedicated to anyone out there who did their own Tribute to Stephen Hillenburg, I'm pretty sure we all know we're all know that I am indeed exactly Five Years late for this 😅

Considering that Today is the 62th Birthday to SpongeBob's creator who already passed away, I wanted to share my own tribute to him by drawing my own personal interpertation of Salacia hugging one of her pals (SpongeBob) knowing that Hillenburg is still there for his own creation (even if he may not be alive anymore).

Speaking of which, I wanted to share my own personal history with my own relationship with Hillenburg's creation throughout the Years.

As someone who was born in the 2000s era, I was never born in the 90s which always made Me the Youngst growing up as I was born around in a Crazy Blizzard around 2005 in the month of Christmas. There were a lot of popular things in life around my childhood like Angry Birds, Minecraft, Cut The Rope, My Little Pony, Hello Kitty, and even some First Modern Cartoon Network shows (before that studio went down) and all kinds of Early 2000s/2010s stuff that I've seen in life. One of my first exposures around in Pop Culture of that era when I was young was Disney and even a little addition of Dr. Seuss. I've watched SpongeBob around in its Seasons 4-8 when I was a Young Kid, growing up, I've always adored the Little Sponge Guy around in my childhood considering that it was one of my favorite shows from my childhood. Well, techincally, back then, I was actually more of a TAWOG Person being that Gumball was actually my very exposure of a very first fandom growing up as a kid (I even remember being obessessed with that CN Show until when I stopped watching it. Either that I was too busy on other things or that I was always stressed out on School).

I saw its First Movie when it came out One Year after I was born. I myself had watch that movie all the time as a kid, as I still enjoyed it at the very least to this day. Looking back at it, I actually haven't re-watched the film for quite a long time as it has been such a wicked long time considering that a lot of things change over the past few years of decades. Some things don't certainly age well in our childhood, others do age like wine.

Being a 2000s kid, I actually did had a few DVDs of Old Episodes from the Show from Seasons 1-3 as someone who always had a family moving place to place for weekends of vacation, I would always watch Movies and Shows all the time with my Parents. Sometimes, even if my Parents weren't around, I would sometimes watch a Few Movies and Shows by myself (mostly the obscured ones) on streaming services. Growing up, I had a fascination with Beach Life. I would always collect Seashells, Explore around the Sandy Places, and even most of the Time swim underwater where the Fishes would swim by. Though, oddly enough, SB wasn't the only Aquatic Media that I always loved as a kid since there were a few others that were also Aquatic as well like The Water Babies, Finding Nemo, Shark Tale, Disney's The Little Mermaid, and even Bubble Guppies. So yeah, you can at least pretty much tell that I was already born to be a Marine lover person who always had a life for Life under the Sea.

But when things start to change as I was around in my earliest Teen Years, I had no such more focus on SB anymore considering that like again, I had much focus for other things in life. New fandoms, Better Days (some were also terrible if you could put it that way). In 2018 (when I was 12 at that time of year), when I found out that SB's creator (Stephen Hillenburg) had passed away, I was completely shocked about his death and I had felt bad for the Other Hardcore Fans who missed him dearly partially because on how that he helped everyone's own childhoods with his own creation. I still remain a SB Fan that day but as someone who actually did not seen his New Seasons during that time, I still had no focus on looking back at it but whenever people pass away throughout decades, you'll always know how much you're gonna miss them, even if they were famous people from your childhood, especially for the ones who happen to inspire your own creaitives. Even losing a family member is hard for someone who has lost a few of them in their own life.

Then, around in the year, 2020 (when I was around 14), when SpongeBob was going to release its Third Film after it's Second Film in 2015 ("Sponge Out of Water" when I was 9), that Year itself was hell considering most of the horrible things that happened during that year that I'm pretty sure no one hasn't forget and still remembers that Worst Year to this day (My Mom broke her own Leg during that Year despite that she now broke her Arm in this Year, Kobe tragically died, and even COVID was the reason why we all had to be inside). Not to mention that I already lost my own Grandfather in December and my Mom was extremly heartbroken losing her own Father. When "Sponge On The Run" (Originally titled, "It's A Wonderful Sponge") was annoucned, it had so much delayed troubles I couldn't even be looking forward to seeing it, even after when it finally released around in August in Canada and then in March of 2021 on Netflix (though, it's not really on Netflix anymore last time that I've checked). But when I heard about the Controversy surronding it all because of the Spin-Offs that a lot of people on the internet were saying stuff like "STEPHEN DIDN'T WANT SPINOFFS!!!!!" or "NICK IS SPITTING ON HILLENBURG'S GRAVE BECAUSE HE ASKED FOR NO SPINOFFS!!!!!!" Look, I know that was all History stuff but if a few people are still acting like it to this day, they should get over themselves now. 

In case if you didn't know (or never watched the Third Movie), Sponge On The Run actually started the Whole Spinoffs in segments of Flashbacks to the Days where the Gang were at a Camp which was a brand new fresh start for SB considering after when Steph died, it was only up to his crew to take care his creation. Despite the fact that if you'd had watch all the episodes from the show, you would know that the franchise actually has its own Lore from Each Episode from the Past which people pointed out on how it was ridicolus to restart the lore (even I myself used to believe that). But looking back at the show, and how one of the Writers (Vincent Waller) pointed out that Steph knew about Kamp Koral, it turns out for what people have mislead in the past (if some still do to this day), I think what were all blind is that Steph actually said "He didn't know IF he could have seen in the potentails in wanting give his own Creation a Spin-Off" which, come to think of it, despite the show's genre of Surreal Comdey, I think we've been just living under the rock this whole time judging by how when we grow up, we start to realize that there is no such thing as "Canon" in a show like SB (usually, you'd see different types of canons in every other franchise like Sonic or Angry Birds). But even for that, sometimes a Story has no connection to the Other in terms of speaking in Timeline.

I still remember that time around in 2021 when I was introduced to SMG4, I remember seeing SpongeBob in other parody videos and even that one time I made my own SMG4 Fanfic featuring their own potrayal of the SB Characters (which I believe was kinda embrassing to Me to this day now that I've actually been thinking about it). 

Anyways, now as someone who has already gotten old, I have been looking back at some of my very old nostalgic things around in Childhood since 2022 while still looking forward to new things ahead. Mainly because after so much stress and grief upon everything that I once had in my old life, and now that my own Mother lost her Brother (who was my Uncle), I've already made my own descion Last Year of going through a New Life where I would have to face everything in my upcoming Adulthood, but I still missed my own childhood days. I've watched the Modern New Episodes (Seasons 9-12) for the very first time and honestly, I'm gotta have to admit here, but I actually like the New SpongeBob so much better than the Old One (apologises to those who still prefer the Classic), I still don't have nothing against the Old One but the New One feels so much improved with such Cartoony Whacky Animation that I like to think that I prefer the New Style over the Old Style (but still support both). I had watch the Third Film for the first time as I did used to think that it was bad (like how a lot of people say they would) but overtime, the way that I draw Poseidon somehow makes Me like that Third Movie since the Writers did want to put much heart for how much that Friendship truly meant around SpongeBob and his Friends.

I also couldn't thank Other Artists who done their own versions of Greek/Roman Gods into my own Personal Versions if the Other Gods in the Pantheon were in the Same Artstyle as King Neptune and King Poseidon in a Silly Show as inspiration for those (like my own friends) who have done interpertations of what Other Characters from the Source Material that never been adapted would look like in a form of the Artstyle. Ever since that I did my own personal take on Salacia, it completely took over Me as it made me have a strong fond for both the Sea Kings (even Poseidon and Amphitrite just became my New Mythological OTP alongside with Hades and Persephone thanks to Myself). Not to mention, I also had a long-passion for Old Stories for a long time, it also help Me to inspire to create my own personal versions of these said stories to interprete them in a different way which once lead me into my own Prequel Headcanon Project about the Lives of both King Neptune and King Poseidon in my AU if they weren't from different timelines. 

Overtime, as I always kept looking back at my old self, remembering the Days that I actually did had a Good Childhood, I'll always never forget my own Glorious Days where I grew up with such Nostalgic Things around in my life since SpongeBob was always truly one of my most favorites since the very beginning when I was came to the World. It just makes Me feel so much inspired by Hillenburg considering that he's a Marine biologist like how much I have a huge love for Nature and even a soft spot for Animals. Not only did I once feel hope for having a better future, but for a fact that I was born as a Sea Lover when it comes to looking into Other Aquatic Cultures and Media (New Ones like Splatoon, Ruby Gillman, and even Luca) and even old ones that I didn't saw as a child until Teenhood (The Sea Prince and The Fire Child).

It has come to my conclusion that SpongeBob as a show has always helped us build our childhood as things will always inspire us to give our very own bright imagintation, even to People who have Autism like Myself. While I do respect for those who are not into the show anymore because of its recent seasons, I still support it, even in my heart since I have not look back into it for such a long time as I believe it was my fault for not looking back at everything in my childhood. 

Thank You, Stephen Hillenburg. For reaching all of our own childhoods, even if we don't know what would life would be like without your own Magnificent Sea World.

Salacia (c) Me SpongeBob SquarePants (c) Stephen Hillenburg and Nickelodeon 

[dollarbin]

Shakey Sundays #14:

Stills-Young Band's Long May You Run

I've gone all soft on Stephen Stills of late. After seven straight months and 50+ posts spent excoriating Neil Young's nemesis/buddy/paste-eating boyband classmate I've given Stills a break in March. He had no business interrupting my vital appreciations of Karl Wallinger, Kris Kristofferson and Sandy Denny. There was barely room for him in my far less vital ruminations on Neil Young's Life or Peace Trail.

But your play time is over young Stephen. It's time to pack away your blocks, crayons and wah wah peddle and face my puritanical, yet objective, judgment regarding a core phase in your suckiness: that's right, it's time for me to actually listen to all of Long May You Run.

It took me a few years to find this relatively common-place Dollar Bin record way back when in the 90's. That's because all my usual haunts dumped their fairly worthless copies of Long May You Run in the never-of-any-interest-to-anyone-with-a-decent-sense-of-ethics-and-self-respect Stills, Stephen section instead of in Young, Neil.

But I knew the album's title track from Decade and from what remains my most prized Neil Young record: a bootleg copy of his 74 Honey Slides Bottom Line Show (note: the bootleg is better than Neil's recent official release of the show in that every rambling, humble word and harmonica fumble remains intact). That bootleg was so expensive at a very sketchy shop on the Santa Monica Promenade (the place also sold Star Wars ephemera and water pipes) that I convinced three of my buddies to chip in $5 each in exchange for my commitment to have it transferred to tape for each of them post haste.

Every moment of the show is rich and fulsome, including the premier of the song Long May You Run, which Neil introduces as a song he wrote for his new bus because he can no longer deal with flying airplanes, a detail that goes a long way to understanding the concept behind one of his most complicated records, Landing on Water.

And so I am still never prepared to hear the original album mix of this song. Young ditched not just Zuma-era Crazy Horse but also his savant producer David Briggs to make the entire coked-up record; out of an equal mix of savvy and bitterness Briggs then remixed Stephen Stills almost entirely out of the song on Decade. He also chucked the most Briggs-like event in that original version, a what-the-hell-just-include-it errant harmonica blast before the song gets started. "No sloppy sounds are allowed, Neil" Briggs boomed from his captain's chair. "Not unless I'm around to approve them!"

The song is a Young classic, sure, but it's never been one of my favorites. Too pretty; too earnest. Yes, the verses include a good sex joke (we found things to do in stormy weather) and some juicy Beach Boys non sequitors, but Young is too wasted to land his own jokes.

Neil has a dozen or more different ways to sing while wasted. There's his terrific tequila stagger (just about everything on Tonight's the Night), the terrifying "someone, please someone, pull me out of my dumpster of sorrow" vibe on songs like Pardon my Heart and Borrowed Tune, not to mention his, "Hey, everybody look! I'm so high I'm a flapping penguin" vocals on Vampire Blues or Cripple Creek Ferry.

I could go on; Neil is a connoisseur of making art while altered. The only time Neil sounds unappealingly stoned is whenever Stills's percussionist/vocalist/dealer Joe Lala is around, cutting lines of coke for everyone on his handheld mirrors. Here are Lala and Young together during his Trans tour. Neil is inquiring where he went wrong; Lala is indicating that it all goes back to hiring him to play bongos.

Throughout Long May You Run, it sounds like Neil keeps catching glimpses of himself in Lala's chop glass, and every time Stills and Joe are there grinning over both his shoulders; you can hear the dull, self-loathing result in Long May You Run's vocals.

The same thing happens, only worse, on Young's potentially best song on the record, Let It Shine. I first came to the song via driving and soaring cuts from 76 Japan bootlegs (catch my details on that vital tour here).

But on the record Young sings Let It Shine with self-hatred and a layer of very unattractive menace. There's nothing funny here; it's just ugly. And the guitars sound like they too are supplied from Joe Lala's terrible stash.

I've never done cocaine. The reasons are many: too scary, too expensive, too many lives ruined by the drug trade, and did I mention, too scary? But I've never really needed to think twice about the drug because I've heard this song once a year, or so, for the past 25+ years. If this is what coke does, I want nothing to do with it.

Neil shakes all this weighty failure off a few times on the record. He sounds appealing silly on Ocean Girl, helps the band make a Bee Gees audition tape on Midnight on the Bay (Joe Freakin' Lala passed the test; I imagine Stayin' Alive is the best song he ever performed on) and earnestly asks us about some complex nonsense on the Florida-based, wave riding precursor to Surfer Joe and Moe the Sleaze, Fountainbleau.

For the record: I do not know who put the palm over your blond, Neil. Nor do I know who's been moving everything to where it last was seen. But I do know that Joe Freakin' Lala does everything he can to wreck this otherwise groovy track with his terrible, whoops-I-dropped-my-bong-on-my-bongos-again percussion.

I only play this record when I've got the chance to sit beside the turntable. That's because there are four Stephen Stills tracks littering up the mix, each of them unlistenable. But I will now make myself listen to them anyway.

Here goes:

Make Love to You is ugly terror. Stills thinks he's Ray Manzarek meets Neil Diamond. He gathers the band around him to buff and polish both his nails and his lizard skin pants. The song was recorded 48 years ago but the "girl" in question is probably still in hiding after hearing Stephen the bar crawling man monster bust out his bluesiest warble to announce that he wanted to make love to her and that it was gonna take all night.

There's a flute driven bridge planted in the middle of this harrowing track like a Trump Flag at a pro wrestling event; someone get me the hell out of here before Stills wants to make love to me too.

Black Coral is a soundtrack for my nightmares. The piano riff is fevered and gross, Joe Lala thinks he's getting paid per beat, and Stills has shanghaied us 200 feet down underwater (with Jesus of Nazareth apparently in attendance, I guess? Maybe he forgot how to walk on water?). Stills has no coherent plan other than reminding us to take care: turns out he's more than a terrible musician, he's also the world's worst scuba instructor. There's more flute here too. The drummer, Joe Vital, is responsible. He probably figured, I played a mean flute in elementary school so, what the hell? How could a song like this get any worse?

12/8 Blues is actually worth listening to, once, so as to hear Neil's tiny, I'm a mouse and I'm trapped, backing vocals and his fairly killer guitar. But the riff is toxic and so are the lyrics. Stills tells he's dying, but don't get your hopes up. He wants us to know that he's "got the music" and he grunts like he knows how to pump iron while Neil tries to make something worthwhile out of it all.

The album closes with Guardian Angel, which somehow manages to be boring and nauseating all once. Lala shows off his touch typing skills throughout. Curses upon him. Stills' guardian angel demanded reassignment the moment they heard this song.

Neil has a guitar solo towards the end of Guardian Angel that's mixed to sound like he's in another state; which of course he was, as he literally told them all to eat a peach and went back to Crazy Horse at his first sober and available moment.

And that's exactly what I'm going to do now too: leave the Stills-Young band solidly in my rear-view mirror, listen to Zuma and recover.

[knickynoo]

While I was gathering the High School USA gifs, I couldn't help imagining scenarios where Marty, APK, and JJ are all interacting with each other. Idk if it would be a case of "identical strangers" or alternate timeline versions, but it would be fun. Especially with Marty and JJ! The many similarities and slight contrasts between them could make for some interesting stuff. In particular...

The fact that both of them don't exactly have happy home lives (at least not original timeline Marty). George and Lorraine, while physically present in Marty's life, aren't emotionally there and have their respective issues going on. Meanwhile, JJ's parents aren't physically or emotionally there. His character is alone in an empty house most of the time (I can't remember why--I think his parents travel a lot?), and they dont seem to really care much about him, so he's kind of raising himself without any real parental support system. [EDIT: I went back to check. JJ's father is always traveling, and JJ never knows when he's coming home. He hasn't seen his mother since he was 2 years old.]

They both have nerdy, science-loving best friends! Marty has Doc, obviously, and JJ has Otto, whose main storyline involves his quest to build this huge robot that mostly just ends up walking around and destroying things; it's great.

↑ Otto, in his very first scene meant to clearly convey, "Hey, this guy is a nerd." Look at all that sciencey stuff. He even has a framed picture of Albert Einstein!

Speaking of nerds, JJ is also one. Except, he's not the smart kind; he's the "outcast, class-clown" kind. JJ is just not considered cool by his peers, especially since his social circle mainly consists of other outcasts and "weirdos." Now, I don't think Marty is quite that ostracized by his own peers--he does dress cool, has a band, and skateboards--but I've never pictured Marty as being part of the in-crowd. His personality (sweet, sensitive, low self-esteem, etc) and the fact that his best friend is a widely disliked/rumored to be dangerous and crazy scientist probably puts Marty more on the fringes of most social groups rather than in any popular crowds. This is another thing they'd be able to relate to each other on.

Also! Perhaps my favorite thing would be just...sticking them in a room and watching them attempt to converse or attend to anything for longer than 5 seconds because. JJ is every bit as adhd as Marty is. Like. JJ is all over the place. He's late for school all the time like Marty is and basically lives in the principal's office because he's time-blind and scattered and always goofing off. One of my favorite scenes (and what spurred this whole concept) is where JJ has been sent to the office because he's in trouble again, and through the whole scene, JJ is just touching everything on the principal's desk as he talks. So as he keeps reaching for things, the principal keeps having to grab them back and move them to a place JJ can't get to until there's nothing left on the desk. And the whole scene is played like they do this every single time and the principal is so tired of it. [I think I'll gif this scene hmm]. Anyway! It got me thinking, "Wouldn't it be fun to stick these two in a situation together and watch them literally not be able to stay still or remain on a singular topic for more than 2 seconds."

Now, for a slight contrast: JJ loves Hawaiian shirts. Aside from the very last scene of the movie, where he wears a tuxedo, he's in Hawaiian shirts for the entire film. Not Marty's taste, clothing-wise, BUT! He does happen to have Doc, who is also a Hawaiian shirt aficionado. They can bond over that.

Additionally, a thing I find hilarious: the Crispin Glover Factor. I've neglected Alex P. Keaton in the scenario thus far, but this is a spot where I'd love to throw him into the mix since Crispin is in BTTF, Family Ties, and High School USA. And I just can't get over an imagined scene where, not only are JJ, Alex, and Marty weirded out by their own identical faces, but they realize they also all have this Other Person in their lives who shares the strange predicament. Like, maybe one of them has a picture or something and Marty's like, "Hey, that's my dad when he was younger" and Alex goes, "Um, no, that's my friend Doug," and JJ is all, "?? What? That's my buddy Archie." And it leaves them all so confused because, as far as they can tell, they don't have any other look-alikes that they share in their lives. It's just themselves and for some reason Crispin Glover. Weird.

So, yeah, thanks for coming to my rambling, everyone.

[umichenginabroad]

Let the games begin: The Last Hurrah :(

Week 10

It’s our last full week here! Time really flew by and I can’t believe that I’ll be back in Michigan soon. To make the most of it, we stayed booked and busy to cross things off our San Sebastián bucket list. For the remaining days of our research, we also had a lot to finish up for final presentations. No more afternoon naps, we had to make this final rally count!

My week technically started on Tuesday due to the unfortunate bus situation from over the weekend (read last week’s post for that experience). I went to the beach to soak up some rays and then Jayashree and I went to this restaurant called The Yellow Deli. Maybe this is a hot take but I would say that this became one of my favorite spots to eat in all of San Sebastián, even though it doesn’t specialize in pintxos. It was mainly the vibe of the place that we enjoyed the most since it was like a funky woodland medieval tavern. The cheesecake and hot cider were a perfect combo of pure delish. Mateo always raves about the cheesecakes he eats everywhere he goes but I think he’s really missing out on this one.

On Wednesday we went to La Mamma, our favorite pasta place, since Izzy hadn’t been yet. This time, Deidra decided to try a new dish and I’ve honestly never seen someone experience that much anguish over food before. At first, she said it had a little bit of a kick to it but that didn’t seem to phase her yet. As time went on, poor Deidra started to crumble and it was obvious that the spice was winning. Sweat, tears, and hopefully not blood went into Deidra persevering like a champ through her pasta. Very proud of her for that effort, and I would show a pic of the aftermath but she’d probably kill me if I did so here’s us before Deidra’s five stages of grief:

Bataplán Thursday! At long last we got Izzy and Diego to go to the club with us for one last night out. The funny thing is that Diego kept trying to convince himself to not go but this guy ended up being the life of the party. The club life in Spain starts late and goes on into the wee hours of the morning which is definitely not for the weak. Even though we had work Friday, it was worth it to have fun with the group and do round two of arm wrestling yet again in Bataplán. Later on in the day, we got ready for one last trip which is special because of the…

Olympics!

Friday afternoon we boarded the bus to Bordeaux, about four-ish hours away to go see an Olympic soccer match. I’ve never watched an actual match in person before, so I was really excited to see all the hype and wear my San Fermín fit again in support for the one and only ESPAÑA! We did a lot of exploring the city before the game and found that it was super cute with highlights being castle gateways, a ferris wheel, mini arc de triomphe (nearly every european city has one for some reason??), and a reflection pool. To fuel for the game, we had an energizing lunch courtesy of the huge carrefour market in the city center. You can get a rotisserie chicken, roasted potatoes, and a dessert for like €5?? We then made our way to the stadium on the crazy packed and sweaty tram, then finally made it in and got our dream picture with the mascot of the olympic games: Phryge the French Hat. 

Our seats were in a good spot pretty much right in front of the goal. Earlier in the day, I had bought a spanish flag to wear like a cape and to wave around during the game. As honorary spaniards, all of us had to represent and we. didn’t. disappoint. After every goal we were putting in the WORK to do the chants like our lives depended on it. Spain won 3-1 against the Dominican Republic and I like to think that we were a tiny part of causing that win to happen. I feel like before this game I didn’t really understand what made people so crazy about soccer, but being in the stands in person changed that perspective for me and I had a fun time! At the end of the day after having the sun blast down on us in the stands, we were collapsing. Refueled at a Canadian restaurant where I tried poutine for the first time and it was pretty tasty. Then, ended up back at the reflection pool where Izzy and I went on a rampage of splashing each other to the point where our pants were beyond soaked and I had to wear my flag around me like a skirt. ‘Twas a good end to a good day!

Next week will be my final reflection post, so come back for my last blog ever, tears already! :(

Olé, olé, olé!

Emily Dobao

Biomedical Engineering

IPE San Sebastian, Spain

August 2nd, 2024

[wonderfuldeath]

.o| Seasonal Calendar |o.

Prickly

• July 4 •

Warnings : Violence, injury, graphic depictions, sex

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

The weather was hot, the wind was dry, the drink between his fingers tasted of something that was going to cost him the small sum of twenty dollars, so the day wasn't starting out as he'd imagined.

Even so, he didn't care, the terrace was almost empty given the late hour, and he looked at his phone to make sure he hadn't missed the appointment, or arrived too early, and yet he could read, purple on black, that he hadn't. In fact, he was right on time. In fact, he was right on time. A light breath passed his lips as he stretched his back with difficulty, cracking it back into place, his eyes scanning around in the hope of finding the unfamiliar face he'd been waiting for. Min Yoongi had no idea what he'd gotten himself into, when the user by the name of: V the victory's man, suggested a crazy plan. Said V was a famous photographer, married, according to what he had told him, to one of the most popular men, a rabbit-faced model, whom Yoongi had never seen. Jungkook, if he remembered correctly. Anyhow… Yoongi had been accosted by this unscrupulous man, while he was doing his favorite thing: Watching time go by and cats being saved on Youtube. So, V had come to accost him on an app he didn't remember having, that his best friend Hoseok, who obviously hated knowing he was single, had installed for him, to make him a strange proposition: Come on a date, with a photographer looking for a muse. Whose name he didn't know, nor his face, nor even what kind of photos the guy took. In short, Yoongi didn't know much about what he was doing with his life, but he was always being told to do things a little different from his usual routine. So here he was, at the seaside, around eighteen o'clock, doing a photo shoot with a stranger he'd met on a dodgy website. Maybe not the best idea after all, but now that he was there, sitting on the terrace of the bar he'd chosen, he might as well enjoy the last milkshake of his life.

“- Kitty Cat?”

Yoongi jerked up as he straightened his cat eyes, mentally telling himself that he should gut Hoseok with his stupid nickname. He remains silent long enough to discover the stranger. Smaller than he'd imagined, but his pair of shoes with heels told him not to comment. Yoongi was almost disappointed to find out that he was a photographer rather than a model. His outfit was of an adolescent: a simple red vest over black jeans, candy-pink hair, the very cliché of the artist, and Yoongi wondered if he had any other secrets hidden beneath the layers of clothing. Yes, the Min was gay, or rather Bi, he liked everything, as long as the person in front of him had a character that matched his ideal, the physical for him? A face could quickly lose its resemblance over time, while a personality remained stagnant. He snapped out of his torpor, wondering how long he'd been staring at him, learning the features of his face, and Yoongi finally nodded, inviting him to settle down.

“- I suppose you're V?

- Ah… No, V is my best friend. I'm Jimin, Park Jimin. But people just call me Jimin.

- Yes, they do. Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi was often described as being like a cat, not very talkative, not very affectionate at first sight. But life had wanted it that way. Unscrupulous parents, a life on the streets, trying not to sink, he had learned to toughen up, to become a rock without emotions, never to complain. In his thirties, he'd seen a lot, not all of it pretty, not all of it good. But he remained polite, so Yoongi ordered Jimin the drink of his choice, a glass of alcohol, a cocktail with exotic names, before the photographer snapped out of his torpor, as if Yoongi had made a great impression on him.

“- As V says, I'm looking for a model for my new portfolio. I'm an art student at Seoul University. I can pay you! It would be a three-year contract.

- What line of work do you do? Male model?

- You could say that, yes. I do sensual, nude photos. I showcase a body, to prove that no matter what may have happened in your life, you can still be beautiful.”

Yoongi didn't know what to say, remaining silent while he took in all the information, he didn't like himself very much, there was nothing special about him. He was an ordinary Korean, with eyes more slanted than some others, nothing more. He took his time to think things over, before Jimin came up with a real contract, and truth be told, the price was more than acceptable for this kind of thing. To tell the truth, Yoongi couldn't really afford to be choosy: he was also an artist, and music was everything that made him tick. But it was hard to make a real place for himself in this kind of place, the competition was tough, so he couldn't really say no to easy money. Three years would give him enough to get a decent apartment, save up, and leave his best friend's apartment once and for all.

“- Where will the shoots take place?

- In my apartment, I'll give you the address, in a reliable setting.

- It's a lot for a student. How can I be sure I'll get paid?

- The checks will be issued by Jeon Jungkook. You can always check to see if they're real."

Panic in Jimin's eyes, he pinches his lower lip as he digs into his satchel a second time, pulling out the first paycheck with two zeros more than on the paper, signed by the obviously masculine hand of Jeon Jungkook. The famous model married to V. Yoongi looks at it, takes it between his fingers, inspects it like a tax inspector, looking for the slightest trace of forgery, but he was no expert, far from it. So he just takes it, looking at the small lines of the contract, everything seems legal, so he signs, sure and certain that he's not risking selling a kidney. The young man looks reassured, finally blowing out his breath and letting himself go in the seat of his chair, as if a huge weight had just been lifted from his shoulders.

“- At a price like that, you must have had quite a crowd, right?

- Well, not really. People are terrified of having photos of themselves in a vulnerable position. If you hadn't signed, I'd probably have had to write off my year. Thank you.”

The kid seemed polite, genuine in his gestures. Yoongi paid for the two drinks, before returning to Jung Hoseok's small studio, a veritable dance machine, having opened his own school which was all the rage, the young man was behind the kitchen counter, straightening a curious gaze at the good humor of the cat sliding onto the bar stools.

“- Someone's got good news, obviously.

- You'll be able to resume the rhythm of your sexual frolics with your girlfriend, the cat takes off.

- You got a job? You know I would have if you hadn't told me not to.

- Exactly. I don't want to take advantage of you anymore. Besides, my boss is pretty cute.”

It hadn't taken Yoongi long to find a furnished studio apartment that he could afford. After all, he wasn't a fussy man who settled for very little, so as long as the residence was quiet, the neighbors were silent and he got his five hours' sleep, it suited him perfectly. The school year only took a good month, giving Yoongi the chance to settle in comfortably, and get his bearings in his new home, before receiving the first message from Park Jimin, called just Jimin, which made him laugh every time his eyes fell on the contact name. Yes, he could be a bit of a brat when he wanted to be, but Jimin had even sought him out, a bit. Jimin's apartment was bigger than his own and much better maintained. It was always strange to walk into a lived-in apartment that looked like the magazines, impersonal, tidy, an apartment of a guy who had to go out on the street and watch people while they lived. One of psychopaths. Yoongi couldn't help the shiver that ran through his body as he nipped at his lower lip, Jimin indicating that he should take a seat in his office, a large desk filled with various accessories, a bed in the center, chairs arranged perfectly straight, Jimin must have had a few knocks.

“- Excuse the mess, I haven't finished setting up my office yet. Take off your top, we're going to start soft and go from strength to strength.

- Okay.”

Yoongi settles down, takes off his leather jacket, and hesitates for a second, before taking off his shirt, in a slow gesture, as if he wanted to take as much time as possible, finally his white skin is revealed in front of a slightly surprised Jimin. A hiccup passes his lips and Yoongi almost feels bad about this reaction, as he rushes to grab his top, Jimin holds him back, apologizing half-heartedly.

“ - You're beautiful.”

The words had passed his lips unintentionally, to the reaction of the photographer, who apologizes half-heartedly, before taking on a more professional air. He indicated that he should strike a pose, before the session began, and Yoongi finally agreed to play along. The more time passed, the more the clothes slipped off the pale skin, the months ran by like grains of sand, and Yoongi had never asked to see Jimin's work. He trusted him, after all. A year goes by like that. And Yoongi is called in again for a shoot, a sweet habit that makes him smile softly, but he pauses in front of the new painting at the entrance to the house. Yoongi's features are recognizable, he's from the back, the curve of his hips almost touchable, while his bulging buttocks can be made out beneath the veil. It was in black and white, which brought out the scar on his shoulder, a flowing line from a distant operation that no one can forget. Jimin let him contemplate, in silence, before opening his mouth.

“- Do you like it?

- I'm not sure.

- If you want, I can take it off. I'd put it somewhere else. So I could look at it.

- How often do you look at this kind of picture?

- Every day. When we're not working together.

- Well, that's good. I'd feel less guilty then.

- Guilty?”

Yoongi approaches Jimin, kissing his lips with infinite tenderness. Time turns and stops at the same time, as the younger man responds with equal tenderness and feeling, making the older man smile. Realizing that perhaps, finally, he had hope at the beginning of this summer, that their contract would last more than three years.

[itsbellat]

Rainbow Hearts: My Journey of Love and Acceptance

Hey there, my fabulous readers! Today, I'm gonna spill the tea on a rollercoaster ride of emotions, heartbreak, and self-discovery. So, grab your tissues (and maybe a tub of ice cream) 'cause we're about to dive into my coming-out story. Buckle up, lovelies, 'cause it's gonna be a bumpy ride!

Picture this: high school drama, butterflies in my stomach, and a heart that beats to the rhythm of teenage crushes. I had this major crush on Sam, a classmate who made my heart do somersaults and my mind go all mushy. Little did I know, Sam was bi-curious, and things took a steamy turn when we found ourselves making out in my bedroom.

But, oh honey, plot twist incoming! Just when I thought my dreams were coming true, life pulled a fast one on me. One fateful day, while Sam and I were caught up in the heat of the moment, my dear ol' mom decided to make an unannounced entrance. Yeah, talk about the ultimate buzzkill! My mom's eyes widened, and her jaw practically hit the floor when she saw us locked in a passionate embrace.

Sam had to make a swift exit, leaving me alone with my mom and a million emotions swirling inside me. But let me tell you, my mom? She's an absolute queen. She looked me straight in the eyes and reassured me that she loved and supported me, no matter who I loved. I could see the worry in her eyes when she told me that my dad wouldn't understand, so we had to keep our little secret between us. Mama bear was ready to protect her cub, and I couldn't be more grateful for her love and acceptance.

Heartbreak, my friends, is a real kicker. In the aftermath of the Sam saga, I discovered that Sam had a crush on this blonde dude from our history class named Zack. Talk about a twist of fate that felt like a punch to the gut! It felt like someone had played a cruel joke on my heart, leaving it bruised and shattered.

But being the passionate soul that I am, I couldn't let my emotions fester inside me. So, I did what any writer with a heart on the mend would do—I poured my feelings into a love letter. You know, penning down all those raw emotions, the highs, the lows, the what-ifs, and the what-could-have-beens. It was like bleeding my heart onto paper, putting every ounce of my vulnerability into words.

Now, let me share with you a snippet from that heartfelt letter:

"Dear Sam,

There are a million thoughts swirling inside my head, like a tornado of emotions that I can't seem to tame. It's crazy how the mere thought of you can make my heart dance a wild salsa, and how your smile feels like a ray of sunshine on even the gloomiest days.

But, my love, fate has thrown a curveball that has left me spinning. Discovering your crush on Zack felt like a dagger through my heart, shattering the dreams I had woven around us. It's like watching my favorite rom-com, only to have the ending rewritten without me in it.

Yet, despite the ache, I want you to know that my heart still carries a flame for you. Maybe it's foolish, maybe it's reckless, but it's a fire that refuses to be extinguished. And if one day, when the stars align and the universe whispers its secrets, you find yourself wondering about what could have been, remember that my heart will always hold a special place just for you.

With love, Bella" After pouring my heart out into that love letter, I couldn't muster the courage to give it to Sam. Fear and doubt crept in, playing tricks on my mind. What if it was too late? What if it would only bring more pain? So, that heartfelt letter remained hidden, tucked away in a secret drawer, carrying the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled dreams.

But here I am, sharing this intimate story with all of you in the vast expanse of the blogosphere. It's funny how time has a way of shifting perspectives and healing wounds. I've realized that sometimes, the act of writing about our experiences can be just as cathartic as sharing them with the world. My hidden treasure of emotions, unveiled and released into the universe. It's a testament to the journey of self-discovery, resilience, and finding solace in the power of words. Life may not always turn out the way we expect, but it's in those unexpected detours that we uncover our true strength.

And there you have it, my friends—a glimpse into the rollercoaster of emotions that was my coming-out story. Life has its twists and turns, and sometimes love takes us on unexpected detours. But through it all, I've learned that being true to yourself and finding acceptance in your own heart is the greatest love story of all. Now, let's raise a metaphorical glass and toast to vulnerability, to love's unpredictable dance, and to the beauty of embracing our authentic selves. Here's to you, dear readers, and to the courage it takes to share our stories, even when they bear the marks of bittersweet memories.

Stay fierce, stay fabulous, and keep embracing the beautiful chaos that is your journey. Love is a wild adventure, and I'm here cheering you on every step of the way!

XOXO, Bella

[incorrectborhapquotes]

I'm glad that you're back

Thank you dear !!!!! Well as you can tell I’m still kind of in the middle of chaotic personal life and responsibilities since I answered this like weeks late. But thank you so much 💜💜💜 and thanks for sticking around !

[sitp-recs]

The Trouble with Wanting by @waldorph

Harry/Draco (2021, Explicit, 60k)

Draco Malfoy is cleared of all charges; this is what happens next.

He rolled over and stared out the window at the trees of the park, the light of the city leaking through their boughs, before turning his attention to the storm on his arm finally calming. It was art, and beautiful, and nothing a Malfoy should have. Pure blooded heirs were meant to be pristine in all ways, virginal and unmarred and what had it gotten any of them? This was his, and he was free, and 18, and he had taken his own body back. He wasn’t anyone’s to offer up as penance, he never would be again. Whatever else, he was his own person.

I have @teacup-tai, who knows me so well, to thank for this incredible rec! Immediate post-war has remained one of my favorite tropes over the years - I lost count of how many times I screamed about Waiting by an Open Door, my go-to comfort read - and I’m really happy Tai sent this my way, another brilliant Draco POV crafted to attack me on personal levels because I’m that predictable. I’m amazed by the author’s - who I wasn’t familiar with before reading this - captivating narrative: immersive and witty while being very fun and sweet.

Draco’s voice is an absolute treat and his sense of humor seduced me right away. He’s earnest but posh, bratty but kind, alternating between moments of sharp wit, vulnerability, confusion and not-so-controlled pining. He feels very much like an 18yo kid who’s finally starting to live his life and making choices by himself for a change, good 👏🏻 for 👏🏻 him 👏🏻 I had a blast following his post-war routine: the hilarious and nuanced dynamics with the Silver Trio (Blaise my beloved has such an unique voice, different from what we usually see in fic which I found refreshing!), Draco’s casual affair and sexual experimentation with Theo, the happenstance (is it though 😌) of his meetings with Harry and the growing intense attraction between them. The slow burn is particularly satisfying and I’m also fascinated by two minor plot points: the first is Draco’s relationship with Simon - the parlour owner aka Drarry matchmaker - and the story behind their tattoos. It’s so interesting to think they somehow connect Draco and Harry while being 100% about their past, identity and interests. The other concept I really love is the long-term curse damage by Sectumsempra, what a fascinating idea! Love me some dramaH and body worship, please and thank.

This is definitely the fic for you if you’re looking for: oblivious Harry with no respect for personal space! Sentient murderer Grimmauld! Blaise’s relatable thirst for Weasleys! And my fave Ron & Draco brOTP 🙌 also the usual mutual pining and sexy UST with lots of touching and dancing around each other, we love to see it. Harry’s a force of nature, earnest, smooth and slightly unhinged, he’s openly crazy for Draco and really fun to read, a charming counterpart to Draco’s (attempted) composed self. A minor - but very important note: the smut is deliciously hot and self-indulgent, I’m here for feral Harry leaving Draco breathless with want oof, their first time is so so sexy but also endearingly light and fun (“So you’re essentially holding your dick hostage on a name” lmao the nerve!!!). For all their banter and sass this is a really sweet get together, full of joy and wonder, it made me really soft for them.

Beyond the top notch humor and romance, this story also explores organically Harry’s post-war struggles to find a place and purpose. I always appreciate it when Harry’s inner conflict with his Auror job is addressed and we get to see him finding another path to happiness, with Draco’s encouragement. This has become one of my favourite recent reads about the post-war, 18yo Drarry is not my usual brand but boy, they’re incredibly charming and this story made me laugh, tear up, and reflect back on my (long gone 🥲) late teen years. Lastly, don’t let the fic length scare you! This is a smooth and quick read, doesn’t feel like 60k at all. Happy Friday!

Read on AO3

[360iris]

Wanna Be Down (George Weasley x Reader x Fred Weasley)

Warnings: Pure smut! She/her pronouns for the reader! No funny business between the boys I promise! There’s bound to be some typo that I missed, sorry ‘bout that!

Word count: 1,628

Summary: There’s a birthday, a bunny costume and The Twins... What could go wrong?

A/N: This was originally meant to drop on their birthday, April 1st... I’m 28 days late for that but hey, better late than never! It’s been collecting dust for the entire time and I wanted to set it free. I hope someone enjoys it!

“You want me to- to wear a bunny outfit and have the two of you…” You faltered nervously, the words seemed foreign on your tongue.

“-fuck you in it.” Fred finished for you with a wide grin, as if this was the most in the ordinary activity to plan.

The twins wanted to sleep with you? This was the first you’d heard of it, that’s for sure. And though the thought sent waves of excitement through your body, the prospect was daunting.

You’d been friends since diapers, a meager six hours separating your births. And whether the bond that formed later was predetermined by fate, or by pure chance, it was wholly indestructible.

Through the years, the three of you operated perfectly insync. Remaining quite persistently glued at the hip; completing every task deemed worthy enough as an odd unit.

There was an unspoken rule that each of you would make sure that the others felt equally included in activities.

So why should taking your virginity be any different?

“We’ll be twenty in a few hours, Y/N. Don’t you want to kick off the new decade with a bang?” George asked, his face genuine and voice laced with just the right amount of sweetness. He always did know how to persuade you into going along with Fred’s crazy schemes.

“Quite literally in this instance.” Fred added cheekily and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Both of you have had sex before though. Plenty of times in fact! You told me about it afterwards! In vivid detail at that! Why are you so worried about me now?” Your brows were furrowed, lips turned downwards in a pout.

Sitting criss-cross on your bed, you tugged one of the many pillows on your bed into your lap. Squeezing it tighter when you met their gazes again.

Fred had his hands tucked into his jean pockets, happy as ever. He acted as if it was only a matter of time before he’d get the answer he wanted.

George on the other hand, at least looked like he was having a conversation with you; and not like he was just waiting for you to realize you’d never actually said no to them before. His eyes were soft, assessing your demeanor before approaching your spot at the foot of the bed.

“You know you’re our favorite girl. Don’t you, Y/N?” He questioned and you suddenly felt smaller looking directly up at him. Ginger waves caressing his cheeks and pooling at his shoulders.

“I mean- I suppose.” You replied dumbly.

“Who do we always come back home to?” He asked again, his left hand lifting up from his side to comb through your hair. The pads of his fingers brushing against your cheek as they went.

“Me.” Your answer was hushed, though it was only the three of you in the flat. They’d closed the shop downstairs hours ago.

“And who trails after me as much as she can during the day, practically jumping into my lap the first opportunity she gets?” His voice was getting lower and his gaze remained fixed to you, you tried your best not to squirm.

“M- Me.”

“Lastly, whose the babygirl that slips into my bed at three in the morning because she stays up too late and gets scared?” He was teasing you now, you knew it, but still gave him a reply.

“Me, George.” Both of his hands were cupping your face now, fingertips laced in your hair, you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to.

“So when I ask my favorite girl to put on the outfit I picked out for her, so I can make her feel good on her birthday, what do you think I want to hear back?” A single brow arched as he waited for your answer, ignoring Fred’s quiet “I helped choose it too, y’know.”

Wrapping your fingers around his wrists, you thought about all the times he and Fred had slept with other girls. How deep down you’d wished they’d looked at you the same way.

He allowed you to remove one of his hands, a dark smirk splitting across his face when you’d slowly brought it between your legs. Only coming to a stop when he was cupping your heat.

“I think- I think I’ve been holding out for you.” It was no higher than a whisper, but it’d been the truth nonetheless. He smiled wider at this confession, leaning in and pressing a light kiss on your forehead.

“All the more reason not to disappoint.” He responded, you faintly registered rustling from behind him.

“Y/N, dear?” Fred called.

“Hm?”

“Time to put the outfit on.”

It’d been relatively easy to slip into the get-up. The bodysuit, wrist cuffs and neck piece fitting like a glove.

“When did you get my measurements?” You asked, looking down at yourself.

“Since when have we not had your measurements?” Fred laughed, pulling you onto the bed with him until your back was flush against his chest. Your head comfortably leaning back on his left shoulder.

George following after you, settled for sitting up in front of you, his knees digging into the pink duvet.

“The ears are a nice touch.” He remarked with a pleased smirk. “Don’t you agree, Fred?”

“Absolutely. All white suits her.” He replied matter-a-factly, hands already roaming your torso. Ghosting over your exposed thighs, he hooked a finger under the bikini line of the bodysuit and let it snap back into place. Your hips jutted outwards at the impact.

“Want to hear you ask for it, Y/N.” George was palming your calves, making you feel small again.

“What do you want me to say?” Your brows furrowed curiously at the request, breath hitching when he utilized his grip to pull you further down Fred’s chest. Your ankles eventually hooking against George’s shoulders.

“Want him to play with your little cunt, don’t you baby?” Fred asked from above you, heat rushing to your face at his words.

“Y- Yeah.”

“Then ask, darling.” He grinned at your eyes widening as you met his gaze upside down.

Turning your attention back to George, you absentmindedly bit at the end your thumb nervously. Sure you’d used curse words like anyone else in the world, but the thought of actually asking the twins to fuck you was on a level you’d never thought you’d reach.

“Georgie?” You tried carefully.

“What is it, baby?” He replied softly, a smile playing on his lips, patiently waiting.

“Want- Want you to make me feel good.”

“How?” He prompted, delighting in your fidgeting. Fred however wasn’t feeling as patient, sending a soft smack to your inner thigh.

“Don’t have all day, bunny.” He chided, slowly massaging the site.

“Want your cock, Georgie.” You finally relented, wanting nothing more than to hide your face in your hands, but you feared being spanked again by Fred. 

George rewarded you with a kiss, palming your clit through the material. He swallowed up every whimper that escaped your lips, only answering by expertly thumbing the area faster. 

“Let’s see how wet you are, bun.” Fred whispered, pulling the bodysuit aside to reveal your heat. Running a finger through your folds, he promptly brought it to your mouth. Smirking widely when you began meekly sucking at the digit.

“I’m gonna get you ready, okay sweetheart?” George asked, mouthing at your neck. He didn’t move until you garbled something close to “okay” through Fred’s fingers sadistically pressing down your throat.

Armed with plenty of lube, the first finger sliding into you felt like nothing. By the third, he resorted to distracting you by rubbing your bud to ease the initial stretch. Although nothing could have prepared you for how uncomfortable taking his tip was.

It was a slow process, full of the boys tenderly guiding you to breathe deeply and relax your muscles. With the abundance of their attention focused on outweighing the discomfort with pleasure, eventually the mild pain began to blur around the edges. 

The level of satisfaction that rolled over you when you’d finally reached the hilt was like no other. 

“Good girl.” Fred purred into your hair as George wiped away a stray tear from the corner of your eye. “Took it like a champ, didn’t she, Georgie boy?”

“Sure did, Fred. Squeezing me so nicely too.” He replied smiling proudly.

“Full- So full.” You whimpered blearily, not sure which boy you were grasping for. Each accepted one of your wandering hands, giving them an encouraging squeeze.

“You’re doing so well, babygirl. How about you let me make you feel good now, hm?” George’s voice was gruff as he patiently waited for you to nod back in response.

Soon the discomfort had melted away, leaving only the easy slide of George’s length and the gratification of being engulfed between the loves of your life. 

You promptly got lost in the jumble of mouths, hands and pleasure. 

“Gonna come for us, love?” George asked, holding your hips done to focus his thrusts. 

“Can I- Can I, please? Please let me come!” You whined desperately, unable to distinguish whose hands belonged to who.

“Go ahead, bunny.” George answered and it was all you needed to hear. Your visioned blurred as your toes curled, the only thing you could register was that he was fucking you through it. Fred’s fingers circling your clit didn’t let up until you were pathetically trying to pull at his wrist.

A weak mewl fell from your lips as George pulled out of you spent. Simpering under his praises, you closed your eyes. 

The sudden smack against your face was sobering, leaving you blurrily blinking up at Fred’s eager grin.

“I hope you didn’t think you were off the clock, bun.”

[gukyi]

the love project | jjk

summary: from running to mcdonald’s at 3am after a halloween party where the two of you dressed up as the teletubbies to timing how long it takes for him to drink a cup of monster mixed with mountain dew and iced coffee and then do fifty push-ups, you’re used to your best friend jungkook asking you to do all sorts of crazy things. but, of all the shit the two of you do, letting him follow you around for a week with a camera and take candid photos of you for a photography assignment might just be the craziest of them all.

{college!au, friends to lovers!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff, comedy word count: 12k warnings: college antics, hopeless pining, slow burn a/n: me: this fic will be 10k max! also me: actually nevermind on par for the course of this blog, i hope you enjoy this fic! it was so much fun to write and it definitely got me back into the ~writing mood~. more fics coming soon!

These days, the weeks pass you by like trains on a platform. They whiz past you, the only discernible features being the beginning and the end of them, with the middle nothing but a blur. 

At least, that’s how it feels when you’re in college, and the days bleed into weeks bleed into months, and suddenly you’re one year closer to graduating, one year closer to figuring out what next to do with your life, even if you’re still missing that one general education requirement you forgot to take in your first year so now you’re trying to cram it into your schedule at the last minute.

Okay, you’ll admit it. Introduction to Astronomy is kicking your ass. That’s what you get for putting it off until junior year, when you’re supposed to have reached the point in your History major career where you don’t have to look at numbers anymore and the idea of doing basic math is absolutely unfathomable. History majors don’t do math. They just don’t. It vanished from your academic arsenal long before now, alongside your ability to interpret word problems and understand science textbooks. 

Perhaps in another universe, you would have actually retained those skills past high school, but that universe is not this one, and so your problem sets can solve themselves or not be solved at all. 

Your best friend would have to disagree.

“It’s not even calculus!” Jungkook exclaims over a mouthful of a Starbucks tomato and pesto panini, pointing to your laptop in exasperation, as if the answer has been staring you in the face for the past fifteen minutes. “It’s just algebra! All you’re doing is plugging the numbers into the formula and finding the missing variable!”

“Easy for you to say,” you huff, furiously erasing at the notebook in front of you as you get yet another incorrect answer. Who knew math could be so difficult? Oh, that’s right. You did. “You took that advanced differential equations class for fun last year. It’s not even required for your major. You’re just a masochist.”

“Says the person who convinced their advisor to let them take seven classes because they, and I quote, ‘all seemed so interesting’ and you ‘didn’t want to miss out.’” Jungkook rebukes pointedly. “Because your life would be so terrible if you didn’t take Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe.”

He’s got you there. Seven classes is a lot. In your defense, Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe was very interesting and you got a 4.0 that semester. So who is he to judge? Jungkook’s favorite pastime is pretending that taking three different computer science classes in a single semester isn’t going to single-handedly kill him.

Jungkook watches you struggle for a few moments more before he sighs, like he can’t take looking at someone so mathematically incompetent any longer. He stuffs the remaining third of his Starbucks panini into his mouth all at once like the ravenous beast he is before he reaches over the tiny table you’re sat at to look at your problem set himself. He turns your laptop towards him and grabs hold of your notebook, furrowing his eyebrows as he enters Work Jungkook Mode. 

Work Jungkook Mode is the mode of him you see most often during finals week or the rare occasions where you meet up to actually try and get work done. Work Jungkook has tunnel vision for whatever assignment is currently in front of him, which he will do either in one sitting or die trying. Work Jungkook lets his coffee get cold and forgets to answer your text messages, even when you’re sat right across from him and you know that he can see the notification on his laptop. Work Jungkook refuses to turn in anything that he hasn’t devoted his entire being to, even if it’s something as simple as a discussion board post. Some of his other friends say that when Jungkook is in Work Jungkook Mode, they won’t even try to contact him, lest their messages get lost in the flurry of his coding assignments. 

But you are not “some of his other friends.” You are his best friend. So rules do not apply to you. And Jungkook has long accepted that fact.

“Hey, don’t mess up my work—” You exclaim defensively, grabby hands reaching over the table to retrieve your notebook. “Wait, how did you do that?”

Jungkook scribbles something down in nearly-illegible font, determined to solve the problem in front of him. He thinks for a few more seconds before eventually jotting down an answer, circling it with his pencil. Holding the notebook out so both of you can see, he scoots his chair over to your side of the table, your shoulders pressed together in this tiny corner of the Starbucks, right by the bathroom, and explains, step by step, what he did. 

He does that for the following two problems in your set, walking you through the kind of math he was doing in freshman year of high school like it’s nothing, answering all of your stupid questions and giving you tips on how to finesse the system by taking as many shortcuts as possible. Teaching you things you never learned, or possibly had just forgotten. Things that a professor would think is idiotic to re-teach to a junior in university. Things that Jungkook wants you to know because he just wants you to have a little more faith in yourself. 

“Does that help?” He asks when he’s finished, still doubting his fantastic teaching abilities despite the fact that he just taught you more in the last thirty minutes than your professor has managed in a month and a half. 

“It actually does,” you tell him, pleasantly surprised. Looking back down at your notebook, what was once a shapeless blur of numbers, letters, and formulas is suddenly a clear and organized outline of each and every step to follow. “I didn’t know it was that easy.”

“Anything can be easy if you just commit yourself to learning how to do it,” Jungkook says, one of those random sentences that are too wise for a college student surviving off of RedBull and Starbucks food, the ones that always make you think Jungkook is secretly an immortal sage with life experiences far beyond your own. “Except coding. Which is hard no matter how good you are at it.”

“Aw, you can do it,” you rally, reaching up to pinch his chin in between your fingers and squeeze it tight. “It’s also too late to change your major now, so you’re stuck.”

“Wow, thanks for the encouragement,” Jungkook chides, hand coming up to rub at where you held his jaw, rolling his eyes. “You should let me help you with your Astronomy work more often. Gives me a break from Python.”

“I would have made you help me whether you liked it or not,” you tell him pointedly, because he is your best friend and he doesn’t get out of things as easily as he thinks he can. “But thanks. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

“Of course,” Jungkook says with a good-natured grin, always so selfless and kind and giving. He practically signed himself up for a semester’s worth of TA-ing for Introduction to Astronomy despite the constant mountain of work he has himself. Just because it’s you. 

“My very own personal genius,” you muse, wrapping your hands around his arm and snuggling into his body, a whisper of a language only the two of you share. It’s something the two of you have long gotten used to, pressing your fingers all over each other���s bodies like it’s second nature. One of the things that makes you feel so certain about having Jungkook in your life. About wanting him to stay with you for the rest of time. “I’m never letting you go.”

Jungkook smiles, a warm hand coming to rest atop of your own. He breathes, in and out, chest rising beneath your touch. “Like I’d ever let you,” he says.

There is no question about it. Jungkook is one hundred percent, absolutely, undoubtedly, positively, indisputably smarter than you are. It’s something that the two of you used to jokingly fight about (because Jungkook claims that he’s a bad essay writer, even though he’s not), but at this point it’s cemented in stone—he’s a damn genius. A genius who is inexplicably good at everything. A double threat. Triple, if you count the fact that he’s built beyond belief and could probably chuck you into next week if you really, really ticked him off. 

The truth is that, ninety percent of the time it is you who is going to Jungkook for help. Whether it be an assignment you need assistance on (namely Astronomy, because Jungkook probably couldn’t help you on your Mesopotamian artifact and primary source analyses despite his best intentions), a date that was a lot worse than you were hoping it would be, or even just the right coffee to order from that expensive place on the corner. Jungkook knows how to fix everything. 

So when Jungkook slides into the seat across from you in the food court after his Mastering Photography class with that I’m in trouble look on his face, you know something is horribly wrong. 

“Are you alright?” You ask, concerned as you watch him devour the sushi takeout in front of him, stuffing the spicy tuna rolls into his mouth like they’re Skittles. His camera hangs haphazardly out of his open backpack, like he barely had enough time to stuff it into the pocket while he was making his way here. There’s a worried expression written all over his face as he fumbles with the chopsticks in his hand, losing his grip on them every ten seconds. 

It’s not until Jungkook has finished the container of spicy tuna rolls in front of them that he finally seems to work up the courage to answer you. 

“My Photography class is gonna be the death of me,” Jungkook exclaims, exasperated. 

“I thought you liked it,” you comment unhelpfully. Jungkook had been so excited to be enrolled in it, because you needed a recommendation from a different professor and you had to submit a portfolio in order to join the class, making it one of those exclusive (and thus, much better) courses. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook is basically already a professional photographer if his Instagram is anything to go by. He’s going to walk out of university with a Photography minor whether he realizes it or not.

“I do,” Jungkook insists, even if right now it sounds like the two of you both need convincing of that fact. “But this project is ridiculous. I don’t even know how my professor expects us to have the time to finish it.”

“What do you have to do?”

Jungkook sighs. Just thinking about it seems to stress him out. “I mean, it’s only really a week long. So I guess it’s not too bad. But we’re supposed to compile a portfolio of the same subject, taken over the course of the week, with them in all sorts of different poses and lighting and locations, to express a personal theme.”

You scrunch your nose up in confusion. “I might be wrong, but isn’t that what photography… is?” You ask cluelessly. 

“Yes,” Jungkook argues, “but also no. Photography is taking pictures of things just for the hell of it. Not because they necessarily speak to a part of your soul. You just like the look of it. You want to capture the scene. That’s it.”

“Oh,” You say dumbly. 

“And our subject can be whoever or whatever we want, but he recommended choosing a person because taking pictures of our water bottles in different places is boring,” Jungkook huffs, though his professor does have a point there. Modern history wasn’t made out of photographs of store windows and miscellaneous items. It was made out of people, out of events in their lives that shaped the rest of the world, out of personal experiences that changed their point of view. “But I don’t even know anybody who would be willing to let me photograph them for a whole week! I’d basically have to follow them around like paparazzi!”

“I’ll do it,” you suggest casually, because it seems like the most obvious choice to you. There’s no one Jungkook spends as much time with as you. 

Jungkook’s eyes pop out of his head. “What?”

“I’m serious,” you insist. “Think about it. You need a subject for your project that you can photograph in a wide variety of places and over the course of a week. Who else do you spend that much time with, other than me?”

“Well..” Jungkook begins, trying to fight your reasons with his own. “Would you even be comfortable with something like that? I mean, I’m literally going to constantly be taking photos of you.”

“Like we don’t already do that on our phones,” you tease, having amassed quite the album of terrible Jungkook pictures over the years. 

“A camera is different from a phone,” Jungkook protests weakly. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m just saying. It won’t bother me,” you say with a shrug. Why is Jungkook being so… weird about your suggestion? You thought he would be jumping at the offer, especially considering it means he won’t have to go out of his way to find and photograph someone else for this assignment. But he’s being rather hesitant. You watch as he glares down at his empty sushi takeout box, eyebrows furrowed in that thick, nervous way. “But you don’t have to,” you backtrack. “It was just a suggestion.”

He breathes in and breathes out, expression solid. Even from here you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, placing each and every potential result into a pro and con list inside his mind, trying to work out whether the benefits will be greater than the cost. 

Quite frankly, you don’t know what all the holdup is about. 

“You’re… sure about this?” He asks, looking up at you, determined to ensure your comfort. As if that’s even an issue. “You’re cool with being photographed and everything?”

“Only because it’s you,” you tease lightheartedly, expecting some sort of equally cheesy response. Instead, it makes Jungkook do something weird. He freezes in place, darting his eyes away from your gaze for a split second, collecting thoughts you can’t see. “Yeah,” you say loudly, trying to bring him back. “I’m fine with it.”

He inhales, exhales, closes his eyes, and opens them. “Okay then. I guess it’s settled. You’ll be my subject,” he declares, an almost unnoticeable wobble to his voice. It’s probably nothing, so you don’t think too hard about it.

“Can you at least pretend to be a little more excited about this?” You ask, jabbing him in the chest with a wooden chopstick. “It’s the first time we’ve ever gotten to be part of a project together!”

“Yay,” Jungkook says, lifeless. 

“How about a photo to commemorate it?” You suggest, reaching over to pull the camera out of his backpack, pushing it into his hands. “This can be the start of your portfolio.”

“Fine,” he eventually caves, bringing it up to his eye as he turns it on, twisting the lens to perfect the focus. Even caught off guard like this, he looks like a professional, like someone who was born to be behind the camera. He’s a computer science major but you know that photography will always be something special to him.

You strike a dramatic pose, holding your chopsticks out, one in each hand, with a wide, excited smile on your face. “How do I look?” You ask, scrunching your eyes together. 

Jungkook’s finger hovers over the silver button. “Perfect,” he tells you, voice soft and honest. 

Click.

“So, how many photos are you supposed to take for this portfolio?” You ask as you flop around on Jungkook’s bed, pretending that the open tab on your laptop with your fifty-page reading doesn’t exist. You don’t even know why professors assign readings that long. Do they really expect you to read all of it?

From across his room, you can make out the top of Jungkook’s fluffy brown hair over his sleek gaming chair, one of the ones that look like high-tech airplane seats. “I don’t know,” he says. “He said at least twenty. And no more than fifty. Which really makes me wonder if someone once submitted like, one hundred photos for this project that he had to grade them on. But yeah.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you say. When you’re around a cute animal, you can easily take twenty photographs. Granted, they aren’t exactly award-worthy photographs, but it’s not a physically demanding task. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook says. “Hypothetically you could finish it in a day. But it looks really obvious.”

“Well, how many do you have now?”

It’s been a day and a half since Jungkook agreed to let you be his so-called muse, but already you’ve lost track of how many photos he’s taken of you. He loves his camera, you know that, but you didn’t realize exactly how much he loves his camera. And with you as the sole subject for his project, he’s practically letting it hang from his neck all day long, just waiting for the right time to snap a photo of you standing in line at the food court, frowning at your textbook, or waiting to meet up with him. Every time he sees you he snaps a picture, even if the lighting’s bad, even if you haven’t had your morning coffee yet, even if it’s midnight and you look like a zombie. In his mind, there are no bad pictures. Just memories.

You wonder what the hell he sees in you. 

“A lot,” Jungkook answers unhelpfully, making no effort to elaborate on that statement. 

“Have you counted?” You ask, getting off of his bed to join him at his desk. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize what you’re doing until you’re standing right next to him, placing a hand over his shoulders as you lean down next to him. He fumbles around for a second, the mouse slipping through his grip, and you catch a glimpse of one of the photos he’s taken of you, a sliver of your pursed lips, the wrinkles between your eyebrows. 

It’s from the library yesterday. You didn’t even know Jungkook had taken a picture of you there. You had a stupid reading to complete last night, one that made no sense and was terribly-written, and you spent an hour just trying to figure out what the damn argument was, and Jungkook captured it. You were there for an hour and Jungkook was there too, watching you like it was nothing, waiting for the perfect moment. He was there, sitting across from you, camera at the ready. You didn’t even hear it click. 

He closes it before you get a closer look at the photo, frantically hitting the little red dot at the top corner of the window before you have a chance to ask why. 

“What, I’m not allowed to see?” You chide, a little bit hurt but more confused than anything else. Why is Jungkook being so secretive?

“No,” Jungkook spits quickly. making you raise an eyebrow in alarm. “I mean, it’s a surprise. You get to see when it’s finished. I still have to… uh, edit. And stuff.”

“Edit? You think I’m that ugly?” You tease, knowing that he probably means color correction but enjoying the way that he gets all flustered when he hears your voice.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at that, like he just realized he made a wrong turn and is desperately backtracking. “What, no! I don’t—I don’t think you’re ugly.”

You laugh, letting the sound of your voice ease the tension in his shoulders, reveling in the way his big doe eyes seem to soften when he realizes you were just teasing. He looks like a kid caught stealing a candy bar from a gas station, looks like one of those boyfriends in the viral videos where the girl reveals that she got him a present or something instead, all nervous and full of explanations. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you assure him, rubbing up and down his arm to soothe him, calm his heart down. “You don’t have to show me. I’m just excited. No one’s ever taken photos of me like this before.”

“I would,” Jungkook speaks up softly. “If you asked. I would.”

“I know,” You say. You’re not sure if there’s a thing in this world Jungkook wouldn’t do for you, and you, him. If he asked, you would pluck the stars from the sky for him. Bring him back a piece of the moon. Stop time. Anything. Everything. Just for him. “I know.”

 “What are you doing?” Jungkook asks, changing the topic as he whirls around in his gaming chair. 

“Just another reading, like always,” you dismiss, because you’re positive the last thing Jungkook wants to hear about right now is your primary source reading on irrigation techniques in agrarian Europe. You don’t even want to hear about it. “But I could use some help on Astronomy.”

Without another word, Jungkook gets up from his desk and the two of you head over to his bed, where an untouched problem set waits on your computer. He grabs a notebook from his backpack along the way before sitting down next to you on the edge of his bed, bodies pressed together. Slowly, he begins to coach you through each problem, step by step, drawing pictures and diagrams if he has to, until you finish all ten problems. 

The truth is, you didn’t really need help with this unit. Astronomy’s gotten a lot easier now that Jungkook has taught you the strategies to tackle it. But Jungkook sometimes feels like a ghost when he works, especially when he’s sitting at his desk, quiet and focused and almost invisible. And call you clingy, but you like it when you can look up and see his face instead of the back of a chair, a little tuft of wavy brown hair. You like it when he’s right beside you, in a place where you know you won’t lose him, where you can hold on if things get rough. Where you can see his stupid brown eyes and his goofy smile and know that he’ll always be there for you. 

When he’s finished, Jungkook doesn’t get back up to sit at his desk. He flops down on his back, staring up at the white ceiling of his room, eyes tracing the cracks. You join him, side by side, pretending that there’s something there. Looking up at the sky would be nicer, but it doesn’t really matter, so long as you’re with him.

“I didn’t know you took so many photos,” you say.

“I never want to miss anything.”

“You should give me more warnings, next time. I feel like I look so ugly in some of them.”

“No, you don’t. Don’t say stuff like that.”

“You don’t think I’m ugly?” You ask him, for real this time. It’s not that you think he’s going to say that he does, it’s that you want to know what he really thinks. How he really sees you. You turn your head to him, back pressed against his comforter, barely a foot apart. And he turns back to you, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, big brown eyes wide and blinking. He’s right there, how could you miss him?

“No,” Jungkook says, honest and true. He looks at you, looks right at you, right into you, and he muses to himself, chuckling. “Why would I ever think that?”

At the end of the day, you can’t really be bothered to put on real pants in anticipation of Jungkook’s trigger-happy camera-taking tendencies. He’s seen you spill a boiling hot bowl of tomato soup all over yourself in the dining hall. He’s seen you at four in the morning in the library the night before finals begin, eyebags down to your knees and mismatched shoes on your feet. He’s seen you in the middle of a frat house, sweat dripping down your forehead and smelling of nothing but straight alcohol. Getting dressed up just for him would be antithetical to the very foundation of your friendship. 

You have, however, become keenly more cognizant in the last few days of when Jungkook is about to take a photo of you. Mostly because you glance up at your surroundings every three seconds to make sure you aren’t getting sniped from across the food court. Nobody else needs to see a picture of you picking up three pieces of sushi with your chopsticks and stuffing them all into your mouth at once. And, from what you can tell, you’ve been pretty successful, which either means you’ve gotten better at telling when Jungkook might be taking a photo of you, or Jungkook’s gotten better at hiding it. 

Either way, he’s got a lot more pictures of you reflexively flashing a peace-sign in his direction when you hear the telltale sound of his camera lens focusing, so you’re not really sure what that means for the fate of his portfolio. 

Besides your newfound hyper-awareness of the sound of a camera lens adjusting, the strangest part of you and Jungkook’s little project is how quickly the rest of your friends adjusted to this brand new dynamic. 

This is not to say this assignment is the weirdest thing you and Jungkook have done together, because there was once one week where you and Jungkook challenged each other to only eat bananas for every meal to see if anything would happen to either of you. Nothing did, but after that week you swore off bananas for the rest of your life and have had little appetite for them since. 

It’s more that your other friends have just accepted the fact that ridiculous, extravagant shenanigans are a necessary part of you and Jungkook’s relationship and have simply chosen not to question them anymore. At least, most of them have. 

“So, how’s you and Jungkook’s little photography fling going?” Maisie asks, and even through the phone you can hear the way she’s wiggling her eyebrows. 

“It’s not a fling, and it’s fine,” you hiss back, trying to keep your voice down as you pack up your belongings, phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder. “Stop speaking so loudly, everyone else in the library can probably hear you.”

“Good, because they’ve all probably noticed the way Jungkook’s been following you around like an unrestrained fanboy for the past four days taking pictures of you,” Maisie says pointedly, voice so sharp it causes you to look around at the other tables to make sure no one’s listening in. 

You frown, hoping your deadpan expression is audible through the phone. “It’s not like that and you know it.”

“Don’t you think it’s even a little strange that you’ve given Jungkook full permission to take photos of you like you’re a model and he’s some sort of weird, professional paparazzi?” You can practically see Maisie’s face in front of you, all wide eyes and raised eyebrows as she makes her point.

“No, it’s what we agreed on,” you remind her for the umpteenth time. There’s nothing weird about this. You’re helping him with a project, what more could it be? “Jungkook needed someone to take pictures of for his photography project and I thought it would be a good idea if I was that someone.”

“Hmm… wonder why…” Maisie trails off, deliberately vague and suggestive all at once. 

“You’ve been going on about this ever since Jungkook and I met, Maise,” you say with a roll of your eyes, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “You know that Jungkook and I are just friends. Like we have always been.”

“Friends that take candid photos of each other under the guise of a project,” Maisie adds, and you can see the air quotes around the word “project” right in front of you.

“Friends that help each other out because that’s what friends do,” you correct. “You’re just going to have to accept the fact that Jungkook and I are always going to be just friends and nothing more. No matter how much money you’ve bet on us getting together.”

Maisie gasps. “I have not bet money on such a thing! This is slander!”

“Don’t think I don’t see you and Jimin’s damn Venmo history.” You pull up to the front desk of the library to check out a primary source book needed for one of your classes. It’s the first edition, and it’s battered beyond belief, but it’s better than paying for it. “Just this, thanks.”

“The only way you could convince me that you and Jungkook are just friends is if you go on a date or something,” Maisie comments snidely. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you romantically interested in someone else the entire time you’ve known each other. Isn’t that proof enough?”

“You want me to go on a date with someone?” You demand, determined to get Maisie to hop off your ass about this. 

You and Jungkook are just friends. If swiping right with someone on Tinder and getting dinner and a movie with them is what will convince Maisie of that, then that is what you will do. It’s not as if being friends with Jungkook is mutually exclusive with you going out with other people. Should be easy, right? 

The boy behind the counter tells you your book is due back at the end of the semester, and you nod your thanks before heading out of the library.

“Fine, I’ll go on a date with someone. If it’ll get you to stop trying to convince me that Jungkook and I are gonna get married and have babies,” you declare, pushing your body against the door handles as you leave, five minutes to spare before your next class begins. 

“You guys would have really cute babies, I’m just saying,” Maisie points out like it’s nothing. 

You roll your eyes, taking the phone away from your ear as your finger hovers over the red button. “See you, Maise.”

You’re barely three steps out of the library, still rolling your eyes at the Call Ended screen on your phone when a voice catches your attention. 

“Y/N!”

You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook’s devilish grin disappear behind his camera, and you don’t even have time to blink before he begins snapping away, finger mashing the silver button at the top as your expression morphs from surprise to defeat, unable to counter his sniping abilities with a signature peace sign. Even from twenty feet away, you can hear Jungkook laughing as you take the opportunity to pose for a few moments, like you really are a model and he really is your personal photographer. The sound of his giggles fills the air, music to your ears, lingering between you like dandelion wisps, blown by the wind. 

Another voice breaks you from your trance. 

“And here we have our resident celebrity and her paparazzi,” Jimin says, motioning to the two of you as he speaks to an enormous tour group of potential applicants and their parents. Caught in front of them, the heat suddenly rushes to your cheeks as you instinctively cover your face, embarrassed to have been pointed out by Jimin, whose amicable, lovable personality is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to his part-time job as a tour guide. 

The worst part is how some of the parents and students seem to believe him for a second, that you really are famous and that Jungkook really is your photographer, looking at the two of you inquisitively as you shrink beneath their gazes. 

“I’m kidding,” Jimin quickly continues as Jungkook joins you where you stand, laughing at the way you look like a deer caught in headlights. “They’re just some friends of mine who we happened to catch outside the library, which is our next stop. But don’t they look so cute together?”

“Are you guys dating?” One of the students pipes up, asking what no one else dared to. 

Your eyes widen at the notion, wondering if you and Jungkook really are cursed to always be mistaken for a couple when you two have never been, and most likely will never be one. Shaking your head, you force out a laugh, “No, we’re just friends.” Beside you, Jungkook is noticeably silent. You suppose he’s gotten just as sick of explaining as you. 

“Bummer, right?” Jimin asks his group, earning a couple of disappointed nods from innocent high-schoolers that still believe in love. “But I’m working on that, so don’t worry. Anyway, this library will be your main destination for studying, book-reading, and everything in between, and is conveniently located two minutes away from the freshman dorms…”

The conversation finally drawn away from you and Jungkook, you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you had been holding in. “Weird, right? Even high-schoolers think we’re together.”

Jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes, fiddling with the settings on his camera just to keep his hands busy. The quiet makes you wonder what is going on up inside his head, makes you wonder what it is he’s thinking about, what it is you’re not seeing. Lately, it’s felt like there’s something on Jungkook’s mind you wish he felt comfortable telling you. 

“Hey, you alright?” You ask, giving him a little nudge with your side. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Jungkook says, voice soft, barely audible. It doesn’t make you feel any better. “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Don’t you have class soon?”

“Oh, shit, you’re right, fuck,” you say, checking your phone only to find you have barely a minute to get to your next class. Guess you’ll be using one of your allotted absences today. “Thanks for reminding me. Dinner tonight?”

“I’ll text you,” Jungkook promises, and you nod your agreement as you dash off, determined to turn a five-minute walk into a one-minute one with the power of exercise. As you leave, you watch as Jungkook flounders outside the library, staring down at his camera and scrolling through his photos, and you still find yourself feeling like you’re missing something. What is Jungkook not telling you? 

What do you not know?

By the time you reach your class, two minutes late and completely out of breath, tardiness is the last thing on your mind.

This project was just meant to be a friend helping out a friend. So why does it feel like you and Jungkook are losing each other?

Using Tinder is easy. Dangerously so.

You’re no expert in app design, but its simplified “yes or no” mechanic has you swiping through people like it’s an extreme sport, barely giving some of them a second glance if their Tinder profile description doesn’t make you laugh within the first sentence. 

Tinder was, admittedly, not your first choice of potential date-finding methods. Call you old-fashioned, but whatever happened to asking someone in person if they wanted to get a meal with you? To showing up at their doorstep with a rose bouquet and a toothy white grin? Perhaps all of those old-timey movies you and Jungkook always watched have given you unrealistic expectations. But can you blame them? 

Even if Tinder wasn’t your first choice, it was certainly the fastest. It takes a second to look at someone’s designated Tinder thumbnail, two to read their description, and three to decide if they’re worth a swipe right. Compare that to actively meeting up with someone, getting their contact information, and then continuing to dance around each other until you finally decide to get dinner together. That’s the sort of thing that could take weeks. Maybe months. And in some cases, years.

Besides, it’s not like you had very many options at your disposal. You don’t trust Maisie to set you up with someone because she’ll probably just choose one of the many boys from her management class and call it a day. Asking someone yourself is absolutely out of the question. And, for some strange, unknown reason, the idea of getting Jungkook to hook you up with one of his friends just doesn’t sit right with you.

So, Tinder it is. And as it turns out, chivalry isn’t dead. It’s just archaic.

An hour into your mindless swiping, you get a message notification. Two hours after that, you’ve got plans with a nice senior boy whom you’ve never met. 

And for the first time in a very long time, there’s something to mark on your calendar for Saturday night.

The little blue block on your Google Calendar tab stares back at you from where your open laptop sits on your desk, the red line that signifies your current time slowly inching towards it as you fumble around in front of your mirror, more dressed up than you have been in weeks. Maisie was right. It’s been so long since you’ve gone out with someone that you’ve completely forgotten what the dress code is for something like this. A dress? Heels? Makeup?

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you will anyway. What if he’s wearing a hoodie and sweats while you look like you’re about to attend the goddamn Academy Awards? Maybe the eyeshadow was a little too much.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks it’s inevitable that you do. The door to your apartment swings open, and you can hear heavy footsteps making their way to your bedroom, that easy gait of his familiar as always.

“Hey, do you think we can just get some take-out and watch a stupid old noir movie, or something? I’ve had a day,” he shouts out, the sigh audible in his voice.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you definitely have when you turn around to see Jungkook standing right outside your bedroom in the floppiest sweater you’ve ever seen and jeans with holes in the knees, mouth agape as he stares straight at you. It’s impossible not to notice the way his eyes are blown wide at the sight of you, at the way they rake up and down your figure, like he can’t even believe what he’s seeing. It’s impossible not to notice how he seems to flounder at the sight of you.

The only thing that breaks the both of you out of your stupors, frozen in place like two criminals caught red-handed, is the sound of his hulking black backpack thudding to the floor. 

“Whoa.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” You ask, voice wobbly. God, why are you so nervous? It’s just Jungkook. 

“Too much for what?” Jungkook blinks, deliberate and slow, as if he’s determined to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him. “Where are you going?”

“I think we’ll have to do a raincheck for the noir movie and takeout,” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips together in fright as you force out a small, tense smile. “I’m… going out. With someone.”

“Like,” Jungkook begins, and even from here you can hear the way he stops himself, hear him breathe out every word, thick on his tongue. “On a date?”

“Yeah.”

It’s a one-syllable word and yet it takes nearly all of your willpower just to say it. Just to confirm what Jungkook’s already thinking. Just to tell him, your best friend, your ride or die, your number one, that you’re going out on a date. 

“Oh.” Jungkook’s voice is lifeless. “Do I know them?”

“No, uh, it’s just some guy I met on Tinder. I don’t know, I just wanted to see what all the hype was about, I guess. And I haven’t really been on a date in a while, so I figured I might just take up the opportunity, so we’re probably just going to go out to a restaurant and maybe go to a club afterwards if we’re still in the mood, and—” You cut yourself off, so nervous that you’ve resorted to your terrible habit of rambling to try and ease the tension. “Why? Do you think it’s too much?”

“You use Tinder?” Jungkook asks instead. It sounds like he’s shocked to hear this. 

“Yeah…” you trail off. “Why?”

Jungkook freezes at the question, but it’s not because it seems like he doesn’t have an answer. It’s because it seems like he does. Only it’s an answer he doesn’t want to share. 

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he eventually settles on, shaking his head. “You, uh, you look good.”

“You think? I feel like it’s a lot. I don’t know how to dress appropriately for stuff like this anymore,” you ask, palms sweaty as you furiously straighten out the skirt of your dress. “Should I change into pants, or anything?”

“No, no, I think that’s fine,” Jungkook says with an honest smile. “You look nice like this.”

“It’s probably been like, a year since you last saw me in a dress,” you comment mindlessly, turning back to face the mirror as you fiddle with your makeup, finger wiping away a bit of smudged lipstick or a stray bit of mascara. “I miss my sweats. Hey, whoa, wait, what are you doing—?”

You whip around to find Jungkook slowly fishing out the camera from his backpack, hand gripping it tightly as he brandishes it in front of you. 

“I, um, I just wanted to see if I could maybe take a photo of you,” Jungkook says, a small, little grin decorating his features. “Since you’re all dressed up.”

“Seriously?” You ask in disbelief. 

Jungkook nods, holding the camera out in front of him. “Just one.”

He looks so small, standing across your bedroom. He looks so small and delicate and intimate, body curled in on itself ever so slightly as he looks at you, the yellow glow of your ceiling light reflected in his hazelnut eyes, drowning beneath his clothes. He looks like he has never seen a moment more perfect, never seen an opportunity as clear, looks like he thinks that if he blinks he’ll miss it. 

Looks as if a photo will be the only way to remember it. 

And you nod. Because he is your best friend, and who are you to deny him of something so simple? Of a press of a button? It doesn’t feel like a project anymore. It just feels like a memory. 

Jungkook brings the camera to his eye, and you smile at him, soft and gentle and warm. He grins back, focusing the camera lens before snapping away. 

You wonder what he sees. 

(You wonder if it’s as beautiful as what you see.)

“Have fun tonight, okay?” Jungkook asks of you as your Google Calendar notification sounds, letting you know you have approximately two minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up outside your apartment.

You nod. “I will. And if I don’t, then I’ll come over afterwards. And we can watch that stupid noir film.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes, a shrug of his shoulders. 

“But I want to. So I will. Okay? I’ll text you,” you promise. “Don’t think I’ll forget about you.”

Jungkook smiles at your little tease, at the way you cup the side of his jaw with your hand as you head towards your front door. 

“Wait, Y/N,” Jungkook sputters out, running after you. He reaches you right as you get to the door, hand grasping the doorknob. You turn to look at him, blinking. “I hope tonight is everything you dreamed of.”

There is something so distinctly sad in his voice. It makes you wonder who has broken his heart. Makes you wonder what you can do to fix it.

“Even if it’s not,” you say to him, taking his hand in your own and squeezing it tight, reminding him that, no matter what, you’re still here. “I know you’ll always be there to take care of me afterwards.”

Your phone buzzes with a message from your date, and you scurry out the door. 

For some reason, there’s a part of you that wishes you never even left. 

The date is okay. Not bad, but nothing to write home about. By the time you finished eating, it was obvious neither of you had any interest in continuing the night elsewhere, whether it be a club or a karaoke bar. He pays for your meal despite your insistence that you can handle the check perfectly fine on your own, thanks you for a nice night, and drops you right back at your apartment. And so goes your one and only Tinder experience, blowing away like a leaf in the wind. 

You look down at your phone. It isn’t even nine o’clock yet. 

[November 7th, 8:48PM]

You: you still game for that movie?

[November 7th, 8:50PM]

Jungkook: you finished your date already?

You: is that a yes or a no

Jungkook: my door is always open, you know that

You: you’re gonna get robbed one day and it’s gonna be by me You: i’m coming over

The walk from your apartment to Jungkook’s is six minutes and thirty seconds on a good day, and seven minutes and fifteen seconds on a bad day, which is usually dependent on if the traffic light over the main road has decided to be extra slow or not. You could walk the damn route in your sleep if you really wanted, having done it so many times in the last year and a half, ever since he moved out of on-campus housing and into his own place.

Tonight, it takes you nearly eight minutes to get to his apartment, but you mostly chalk that up to the heels you’re wearing. If you cared any less about your dignity, you’d probably take them off and walk barefoot like a defeated heroine in a romance movie, shoes dangling from your fingers as they hang low by your side. 

But you aren’t defeated. You didn’t have the world’s most spectacular date, but the night isn’t over just yet. 

Jungkook’s waiting at his front door by the time you arrive. 

“Eight minutes, huh? You’re getting old,” he asks snidely, looking down at the invisible watch on his wrist. 

“Your counting is just off,” you retort easily, falling into that same friendly rhythm, that familiar little beat that the two of you share. You push past him and into his apartment, instantly feeling more at home, shoulders sinking and heartbeat soothing as you soak in the scent of his room, of his home, of him. 

“How’d it go?” Jungkook asks, eyes hopeful as they watch you tug off your heels. They were hardly three inches tall and yet you still want nothing to do with them. 

You shrug. “Eh. It was okay.”

“Just okay?” Jungkook asks, sounding seriously upset for you. Upset that you didn’t have a good night even after you promised him that you would. Upset that it didn’t turn out to be everything you wanted. 

“I don’t know,” you admit, looking over at him, dejected. “It just—I just had this feeling that it wasn’t going to work out.”

Jungkook scowls to himself, eyebrows furrowing like he’s trying to figure out what exactly you mean by that. And the truth is, you’re not sure either. The date was fine, and he was nice, but even when you first met it felt like you weren’t going to get what you wanted from him. Like you were just going on the date to go on the date. Like you already knew that it would mean nothing. 

Jungkook was going to be waiting for you at the end of the night whether it went amazingly well or terribly bad. And knowing that, strangely enough, almost made you want the date to be horrible. Like it would make seeing Jungkook afterwards that much sweeter. 

“Oh,” Jungkook says lamely. “Well, I’m sorry. It seemed like you were really looking forward to it.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him. “Can we just watch this movie now and make fun of how sexist it is? Please?”

To that, Jungkook easily agrees. As he’s queueing up the movie, you raid his closet for a hoodie and sweatpants, desperate to strip yourself of your dress and tights and cozy up in clothes that are much more appropriate for your comfort level. At this point in your friendship, Jungkook doesn’t even question it when he sees you march into his room, fishing through his closet and drawers for your favorite matching set of his, this grey pair that he’s worn so much it still smells like him even after it’s come right out of the wash. 

He only stares back in awe when he sees you emerge from his bedroom wearing them. 

“Ready?” You ask, breaking him from his resolve.

Jungkook blinks wildly from where he’s seated on his dinky old couch, as if to clear his vision. “What? Oh, yeah, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Then hurry it up, Mister,” you demand, sitting down next to him and curling into his body. It’s instinctual, at this point, wanting to be close to him. To feel the warmth of his body radiate upon your own. To feel his chest beneath the palm of your hands, his arm wrapped around your side. “All good?” You ask, looking up at him. 

Jungkook looks down at you, and you swear, you’ve never seen him more at home. “Always, when I’m with you.”

The movie is predictably good and predictably sexist, but your favorite part by far is when Jungkook reaches around on the coffee table in front of you for his camera, holding it up to his eye and snatching a picture of the television, the film grainy like an old polaroid, faded like an antique photograph. He clicks away at the scene in front of him before turning on you, the lens so close to your face you’re almost certain all he’ll manage to capture is your nose. You laugh, pushing yourself away from him as he snaps, and snaps, and snaps, image after image after image, until his camera battery has died and there’s no more room left on his card. 

“Guess I’ll have to charge this thing, then,” Jungkook sighs as he declares his camera dead, screen black. 

“You aren’t going to include any of those, are you?” You ask, an eyebrow raised. 

Jungkook shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t you have enough?” You deadpan, thinking back to the hundreds of photos Jungkook must have taken of you over the past week, and even more that you don’t know about. There’s certainly no shortage of them in his current camera inventory. That’s for sure. 

“Never,” Jungkook says wickedly. He stretches out an open arm, and you don’t have to think twice about falling into it, letting him wrap you up in his hold, curling into his body. 

The black television screen crackles before you, DVD player waiting for Jungkook to turn it off. There’s no need for either of you to look up at each other. Not when you’re strung together like this. Not when you already know exactly where he is. 

“It’s due on Monday, right?” You inquire softly, fatigue slowly overtaking you. 

“Yeah. I’m almost finished, just have to do some curating and editing.”

“I want to see it.”

“What? My project?”

“What else?”

“It’s just a project, it’s not that exciting.”

You pull away from him at that, looking up at him with furrowed brows and scrunched-up nose. “What do you mean ‘it’s not that exciting’? It’s your photography project. You’ve spent a whole week working on it.”

“Yeah, but it’s just you, you know?” Jungkook objects. “Like, you know what you look like. It’s just going to be a bunch of photos of you, like I said it’d be.”

“That’s exactly why I want to see it,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You took pictures of me for a whole week. Don’t you want to share them with me?”

“If you really want some of the photos, I’ll send you some, but you don’t need to see the whole portfolio, you know? It’s just for my professor,” Jungkook says stiffly, surprisingly resistant. What’s the big deal? It’s not like there will suddenly be new information about you that you didn’t know before. You want to see what Jungkook has been working tirelessly on this entire week. Where’s the harm in that?

“Why are you getting so hung up on this? It’s just photos,” you say with a frown. 

“Why are you getting so hung up on this?” Jungkook challenges back. 

You sigh, sinking back into him, defeated. Even a little disagreement like that is enough to knock the wind out of the both of you, so you decide not to push it much further. 

“Do you promise to show me eventually?” You ask, hopeful.

Jungkook pauses for a moment, and you almost expect him to say no, considering how protective of his work he’s being. “One day,” he declares. “One day, I will.”

And that’s good enough for you. 

You lose track of how much time passes after that, feeling your eyelids getting heavy as the warmth of his body envelopes you, drowsiness settling in. There’s just something about this moment, right here, right now, that makes you want to fall asleep.

You’re on the verge of slumber when Jungkook’s voice breaks through.

“Why didn’t you think your date would work out?”

“I don’t know,” you respond sleepily, barely even opening your eyes. “It just felt wrong.”

“How do you know what feels right?”

Good question. Perhaps if you had the energy, you’d answer it. But right now, all you can think about is how cozy you feel in Jungkook’s hoodie and sweatpants, how the scent of him surrounds you, that indescribable, boyish aroma that can’t be replicated. Right now, all you can think about is how easily your body molds into his, like two pieces of a puzzle meant to fit together. Right now, all you can think about is him. 

The worst part about each and every week is when it ends. Because the end of one week signifies the beginning of the next, and when you’re in university, the beginning of the next week means a whole new batch of assignments that you have to complete and a whole new batch of due dates to meet. 

So, yeah. The weeks have been blurring together for you lately. But what else could you expect?

Sunday evening, as per usual, finds you right back where you always are: Jungkook’s apartment. 

The two of you have been regularly getting together on Sundays to study, ever since you both realized you work significantly harder when motivated by the other, determined to finish all of your work on time so you can spend the rest of the night fooling around by mixing Monster with as many unhealthy drinks that you can possibly think of. And it’s been working out well for the both of you so far. Jungkook powers through his coding assignments and you whiz through your readings, intent on keeping up to date with your tasks so they don’t all come crashing down on you at the end of the semester. 

Studying with Jungkook has always been easy, largely due to the fact that it’s the one allotted time during your friendship where the both of you deem it best to not speak to each other for the sake of your work. The moment one of you opens your mouth it’s over, so you sit on opposite ends of the room and pretend that the other person isn’t even there. 

Jungkook told you earlier today that he had already finished his photography portfolio, so there would unfortunately be no sneaky glances over his shoulder to see if you can catch a glimpse of one of the pictures. Which is fine by you, you’re just a little embarrassed that Jungkook had told you this outright. Not that you were planning to do exactly that, but you were planning to do exactly that. 

Part of you. more than anything, wants to know why Jungkook won’t just show you himself. Why he’s being so secretive, so protective of his photography project when you both know already exactly what’s in it. For God’s sake, he just spent the entire week taking photos of you non-stop. It’s like not as if any part of this is a mystery to either of you. What more could he have done?

Whatever. You aren’t going to force it if he doesn’t want you to. You suppose that maybe one day, far into the future, he’ll finally decide that the time is right. 

“I’m so fucking tired,” Jungkook declares lifelessly as he gets up from where he’s sitting on your bed, dead inside. “I need a break.”

“Are you going to the kitchen? Can you make me some tea, please?” You ask him, looking up from the laptop on your desk. 

Jungkook nods wordlessly before disappearing out of the room. 

You and Jungkook’s best study practice to maximize productivity is the taking of each other’s cell phones so that the other cannot be tempted to look at it. It’s worked plenty of times before and will probably work plenty of times again, because as they say, out of sight, out of mind. 

Unfortunately, it’s hard to pretend that your phone is out of sight when it’s been buzzing on your bedside table for the past five minutes, and your fingers have been itching to get over there and answer your damn notifications. So, while Jungkook is out of the room, you decide to cheat a little by dashing over there just to see what the heck is going on in the rest of the world. 

As it turns out, nothing much. Just Maisie texting you as she binges yet another television show, giving spoiler-free updates anytime anything remotely dramatic happens. You have a couple of new emails as well. 

The thing that actually catches your attention the most, is Jungkook’s laptop screen. 

There’s just a Word document open on it, but a Word document is a far cry from his usual coding program or Photoshop. Because you can’t help yourself, you peer over to see what he’s written. 

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Hard to say that I have. I don’t think I learned something about myself so much as I confirmed what I already knew, cementing it as a real thought in my brain, rather than just a daydream. Nothing changed in the way that my best friend and I interacted, and I can almost confirm that nothing changed in the way that she feels about me, just as nothing changed in the way I feel about her. I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her. 

What?

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Not as a reference but to remind myself of this very moment in my life—a single week over the course of my life that I felt was worth saving. I imagine that there will come a time, far in the future, where my best friend and I have separated a little bit, found our own lives and created our own families with our own people. And when that happens, I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 

This feels personal. Maybe you should stop reading. But there’s just one more question left on the page… 

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. If it meant getting to spend more time with her, take more photos of her, see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 

“Y/N?”

You hadn’t even heard the kettle whistling. 

“Jungkook,” you say, breathless, caught red-handed. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, placing your steaming cup of tea down on the desk as he stares back at you in horror, in surprise, in worry, in something. Something that gives you this imminent sense of impending doom. 

“Uh—”

“Were you reading my computer screen?”

It’s not like you could say you were doing anything else. 

“I couldn’t help myself, I came over here to check my phone since it’s been buzzing like crazy and your computer was right there and I just…” you sputter out, thoughts swirling inside your head. 

(I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 

If it meant getting to see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 

I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her.)

“What do you mean, how you feel about me?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. Because the sound of his voices echoes in your head like the beat of a drum, over and over and over. Because you’re staring back at him and even if he just caught you snooping through his computer you can never be worried when it comes to him. Because everything he has ever done puts you at ease. 

“Y/N, that is private, why would you read something like that?” He asks, each word a sucker punch into your heart. 

“Because I just had to know, okay?” You shout back. “I had to know what you were hiding from me.”

“So you decided to snoop through my computer to see if you could figure it out yourself?” He demands, storming over to you. 

“So you are hiding something?”

“That’s not the point, the point is that—”

“What are you not telling me, Jungkook?” You cry out, watching as he approaches you, dark eyes piercing your gaze. “Why won’t you show me your goddamn portfolio? If there’s really nothing to be afraid of, why are you keeping it from me? I’m your best friend, I’m the fucking subject of your project? Don’t I deserve to see it? Why won’t you show me?”

“Because then you’d know!” Jungkook shouts back, leaving deafening silence in his wake. You look up at him, blinking. In front of you, Jungkook is out of breath, chest heaving. 

He looks so strained. So tired. Like he’s been carrying around this secret for months now, maybe even years, and this is the final straw. This is what has sent the both of you crashing down upon each other. This stupid fucking project. You’ve known Jungkook ever since the beginning of your freshman year, and never before have you seen him so hopeless. 

“Jungkook—?”

“You’d know, goddamnit,” Jungkook says, hand coming up to rub at his forehead, dragging down his cheek. “And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.”

“Know what? What would I know?” 

Jungkook closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. Opens them again. “That I’m in love with you.”

The words drift in between the two of you, hovering in the air like feathers. You see them, clear as day, in front of you, hear them echoing in your head, over and over and over again. Feel the way your blood is pumping, the way your heart is beating. 

“You’re in love with me?” You ask him. 

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Jungkook admits. “Or at all, really. But I have been, for a while now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid that I’d lose you.”

You chuckle, a small, little thing from the back of your throat. “You must have known I’d never let that happen, hmm?”

Jungkook smiles softly. “I was scared. Can you blame me? You’re my best friend.”

“And you are mine,” you remind him. 

“It’s just—” Jungkook begins, like the gates of a dam are opening up. “We’d known each other for so long, and we have such a good thing going as is, always texting and calling and hanging out together, studying together on Sunday nights and seeing each other during the week, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. And then my professor assigned this project, and the only person I could think of to take photos was you, but I didn’t want to ask that of you in case you thought it was weird, but you suggested it anyway so I said yes, but I knew. I knew then that the moment I took one goddamn photo of you it would be obvious, and that if you ever saw you would just know. Stuff like that is easy to pick up in pictures, because a camera is like, tunnel vision for whatever it is you want to focus on most, and that’s you, that’s always been you, so I—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt, reaching out to him, pressing a soft hand to his cheek. “Just, shut up, okay?”

And then you cup his head in both of your hands, and press a kiss to his lips. A small one, if nothing else, but a kiss nonetheless. You press your lips against his own and immediately you feel the sparks rush through you, this flash of heat that settles into something softer, something sweeter. It ignites and soothes you all at once, like a stray lightning bolt out on the open ocean. Like a single clap of thunder and the pitter patter of rain. 

You press a kiss to his lips and when you pull away, Jungkook’s eyes are closed, lips parted ever so slightly. And for a moment there, you almost think you did the wrong thing. 

But barely a second more passes before he’s scooping you up in his arms and pulling you in close to him, his lips finding yours like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. He holds you tight, hands pressed against the small of your back as he kisses you, warm and fiery and full, as if he can’t get enough, as if this is his only chance. You gasp into it before relaxing in his hold, cold hands on his warm cheeks, body melting at the feeling of him, of him all over you, of his hands and his mouth and his chest, this perfect, solid figure. 

He kisses you and it sends heat shooting through your body, filling you up from the inside out, like your heart has burst and filled your bloodstream with fire, with sparks of warmth that tingle all over. He kisses you, and everywhere his hands press is another sizzle to your skin, an electric shock that makes you giggle into his mouth. 

He kisses you and it feels like a storm has settled, feels like gentle rain after a hurricane, feels like waves crashing against the shore. He kisses you and it is the only thing you can think about. 

By the time you part once more, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so blissed out. 

“See?” You point out softly. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

Jungkook looks positively dazed. “I think I need to lie down.”

“Ooh, was I that good?” You tease.

“I’m dreaming.” He shakes his head. “I’m definitely fucking dreaming.”

Jungkook sinks onto your bed, hitting the mattress with a thud. He stares mindlessly in front of him, like his brain needs time to process. 

You smile to yourself. He can have all the time in the world. 

“Is this real?” He mumbles when you sit down next to him, press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Are you real?”

“Just like you,” you promise him. “I didn’t know this is what we had been missing, all this time.”

“It wasn’t missing,” Jungkook assures you. “It was just hidden.”

“I love you,” you whisper, watching him swallow the words like a glass of wine. “I think I always have. You just needed to say it first.”

“Oblivious as always.” Jungkook grins, smiling against your lips. “But I’m glad. If this is what it would take, then I’m glad.”

“You wouldn’t change anything?” You ask him, eyes wide and curious. 

It’s hard to know how long you and Jungkook have been secretly pining over each other. Hard to know how long Jungkook has known that he’s loved you, how long it’s been since you started to feel the same, even if subconsciously. It’s hard to know how long you would have kept going if not for this project. It might have been months. Years. Years that Jungkook was willing to spend holding back, if only it meant keeping you by his side. 

“No,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest answer in the world. “I have you now. Why would I?”

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Previously, I had responded to this question by saying that I hadn’t learned anything, and felt that nothing changed in my life. Then, some things happened. And after those things, I learned that I am the luckiest man alive. To know my best friend is one thing. To love her is a privilege. To have her love me back is nothing less than a miracle.

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Every day for the rest of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever been as thankful to receive a homework assignment as I am, right now. I owe everything to this project. It is the reason I have her. 

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. I want to take photos of her for the rest of my life. I want to save every memory we ever share together. So that far into the future, we can look back on them together and say, “Remember that?”

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

[therealvinelle]

I love your takes on twilight, do you have recommendations for other books?

Sure!

I'll divide this into authors, titles, and playwrights, since there are some authors I blanket recommend, and reading a play is very different from reading a book.

Also, wrote this one on the fly so there are probably many I missed, but now you have recs.

Authors:

Agatha Christie Christie is remembered by most for her ability to create compelling mysteries and zany detectives, but she had many other qualities. Chiefly among them, her ability to create amazing characters. Recommended works: And Then There Were None. Ten seemingly random people are gathered on an island, and start dying one by one. Crooked House. The usual Christie dysfunctional family, one of my favorites. One of Christie's as well. Curtain. Poirot finds the perfect murderer. Ordeal by Innocence. Two years earlier, a murder was committed. The victim's son was convicted of the crime, and hanged in spite of his insistence that he has an alibi, guys!! Totes!! Well, cut to present day, and the alibi hears about this case, realizes "whoopsie doo, that was me, wasn't it. Well I better tell the family they sent their brother to the gallows and the culprit is still alive and most likely one of them. I love doing good deeds like that. :)" The Mirror Crack'd. One of Christie's later novels, this one is among my favorites for its character creation. It has a very good sideplot of old lady detective Miss Marple finally getting the kind of old where she's not just a zany old lady, but old as in can't live alone and people tell her all the things she can't do, and she's furious about it.

Amalie Skram Radical feminist 19th century realist author. Particular titles I recommend include: Forraadt (Autobiographical novel about a young woman completely unprepared for the horrors of marriage. Places a magnifying glass on the hardships upper-class woman had to endure in their marriage) Professor Hieronimus (A woman reluctantly agrees to submit herself to an asylum, as she has been very stressed lately. The psychiatrist proceeds to gaslight her into thinking she's crazy, her husband believes the psychiatrist over her, she realizes she's not getting out anytime soon. Also autobiographical, because Skram's life was terrible.) Hellemyrsfolket (Follows an impoverished family in Bergen. Asks the question of whether poor life choices are the fault of society or the individual. For instance, first novel, the patriarch has stayed sober and hard-working against all odds, he'll keep this family afloat or so help him god. The novel proceeds to break his spirit.) Skram's translated works might be hard to get your hands on because to my knowledge she's not well known outside of Norway.

Philip K. Dick Hard sci-fi author. Insanely talented man, the kind of mind I aspire to have. A Scanner Darkly (an undercover policeman develops a drug problem and an identity crisis) Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (Features the age-old question of where real ends and synthetic begins)

Victor Hugo VERY loquatious. However, he's so charming when he babbles on and on that you kind of just have to love him for it. I can recommend: Quatre-vingt-treize (historical novel, set during the French revolution.) Les misérables (about miserable French people.)

Titles:

Albertine by Christian Krohg This realist novel about a young, honest woman whose downwards spiral leads her to prostitution sparked a debate about the treatment of prostitutes in Norway and led to changed legislation in their favor.

American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis Not for the faint of heart, but if you think you can do it then knock yourself out with this insane book.

Candide by Voltaire A satirical anti-war, anti-everything novel about a very candid man named Candide, who travels the world and finds that it's a ridiculously, over-the-top awful place. He remains optimistic through it all.

Coraline by Neil Gaiman Delightfully eerie story about a girl who discovers a sinister world almost identical to our own.

Dune by Frank Herbert Excellent, and while I haven't seen the Villeneuve film yet every interview I've read has given me the strong suspicion that the spirit of the book was lost on him. Read the book.

Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman Not a perfect novel, but god it's utterly enjoyable. Impossible not to have a good time reading this.

His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman One of the few YA fantasy series I've read that I wholly and unabashedly loved. Inspired by Milton's Paradise Lost, featuring very interesting religious themes.

Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams SO MUCH FUN. No point in summarizing in part because I can't, this is just a fun, fun, quintology in three parts. If you like my sense of humor you'll love Hitch Hiker's Guide. It's a longer read, though.

Jerusalem by Selma Lagerlöf Penned by the first ever woman who won a Nobel prize in literature, this generational novel depicts the inhabitants of a Swedish village who form a Christian cult and decide to emigrate to Jerusalem. Inspired by a real events. Features seriously interesting characters, my favorite being the couple where the wife developed really bad post-parture depression and wound up committing infanticide, then when she gets out of prison the husband is waiting for her. "I still love you, babe. Let's have new kids."

Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov Beautiful prose, excellent use of an unreliable narrator, horrifying story. Strong recommend.

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde Most people have heard of this one already, so I'll just say that it's a deeply funny book. Dorian Gray is awful, just awful, but delightfully so. Shoutout to poor Sybil Vane.

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee Told from the point of view of a little girl, her sweet childhood takes a dark turn when a white woman is raped and a black man gets the blame.

Playwrights:

Euripides. He's the mastermind behind Medea and Bacchae, both of which I strongly recommend.

Henrik Ibsen. A master of writing about the ugliness just beneath the surface. Enemy of the People (Spielberg's movie Jaws is loosely based on it!), Vildanden, and Peer Gynt.

Ludvig Holberg. Erasmus Montanus: Rasmus Berg (Berg meaning "Hill" in Norwegian. VERY normal name.) returns from university, and he is Learned™ now so you may now refer to him only as Erasmus Montanus. He proceeds to be too intellectual to function throughout the play.

Shakespeare. Yeah yeah I feel like a tool, but... he's good damnit. Though my recommendation for him would be to watch a filmatization, as the language can be rather dense. In my experience it's better to know what happens in the play from watching it performed first, before you can really get much out of reading it. The Hollow Crown is a good filmatization of his king trilogies, The Merchant of Venice with Jeremy Irons is amazing, and Baz Luhrman's Romeo and Juliet remains the best Romeo and Juliet film I've seen. Also, sidenote - if English isn't your first language, DON'T make the same mistake I did of reading a translation, thinking that'll be easier.

Sophocles. Wrote the Oedipus Rex trilogy.

Other recs that come to mind are the Old Testament (there's nothing so fascinating as reading stories that date back three thousand years that have shaped our history) and The Cheese and the Worms by Carlo Ginzburg (a scholarly work outlining how an Italian miller named Menochhio formed his own cosmology).

Tagging @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin in case she wants to add to this.

[oviids]

pls share some of your spn fic recs 🥺🥺

ok, a few things first:

followers and mutuals who do not have supernatural brainworms, kindly avert your eyes

i don’t normally rec or even read much fanfic any more but this is a CRISIS ok (cont.)

there is so. much. content for deancas out there and i have incredibly high standards, several ancient ao3 bookmarks, can speedread, and want to spare you guys the experience of wading through it all.

i also have a section for spn femslash since I was pretty into that back in the day (sadly a lot less fan content for this :/)

I don’t really like au’s or pure smut (I honestly usually just skim or skip those scenes) so if you’re mainly looking for that kind of thing this probably won’t be very helpful to you. jsyk.

i’m not great at describing stuff but i’ll do my best, i’ll also try and add tw’s when neccesary.

i wil try and keep updating this with any other decent fics i find, feel free to rec stuff too since i’m like 7 years behind.(edit 1/25/21) this is getting looooong so i’m going to start making another list on my spn blog rather than update this one

(edit 1/3/21) since this has gotten pretty long i’ve added rating/approximate word counts and marked my particular favorites with an asterisk.

Dean/Cas fic:

So Says The Sword*** - explicit/85k. FUCK its good...au/time travel where dean is not pulled out of hell by cas and says yes to becoming the michael sword. honestly could serve as an alternative to actually watching the show, if you want to get into dean/cas without actually doing that to yourself.

Fata morgana.*  - teen/6k, pst s9 finale. very bela centric and i love it, she finds cas looking for dean in hell.

Redemption Road -misc/600+k. an incredibly long fic from a collaborative writing group back in the day. canon divergent from the end of s6 on, has a cool take on godstiel and the leviathans, as well as the lovecratian mythos connection. ngl when i reread it i only made it about 28% in but imo the casual reader can actually stop around there, the rest concerns a lovecraftian apocalypse that is still good (i think i don’t remember it very well) but not required to enjoy the first half. if you prefer i have an ebook version i can send you on gdrive.

Someone Who's Feeling For Me* - mature/45k, s12. they run into lisa braeden and dean thinks cas is into her while cas thinks dean still likes her. treats lisa way better than the show ever did and the miscommunication is pretty funny rather than annoying.

a turn of the earth - mature/95k. time travel fic where cas from s10 keeps showing up in deans life from a few years before s1 to right before the hellhounds take his soul.  slow burn, good character study, and at one point cas punches the dad in the face and it rules.

On the Wings of War - teen/85k, canon divergent s5. dean accidentally becomes the Horseman of War. plays fun, fast and loose with biblical lore, michael has some rights.

Named - mature/95k, alternate s5. EXTREMELY blasphemous in a fun sexy way. manages to predict metatron almost to a T. there’s one major character death and its literally jesus christ, everyone is very sad about it and it sets the rest of the story rolling. an alternate interpretation of cas’ mission to raise dean from hell which had me on the floor. ngl its kind of misogynistic at points, but its from 2010 and tracks with late oughts-2010 spn (sorry anna the author did you dirty here:/).

The Girlfriend Experience - explicit/15k. uhhh i don’t normally rec or even read smutty stuff unless someone i know is specifically asking for it but this has stuff like sam trying to be a good ally and dean thinking holding hands with cas is ‘kinda gay :/’ minutes after having gay sex with him.

i crippled your heart a hundred times - explicit/19k, s8. cas confesses his feelings and dean spends a long time getting his head out of his ass about it. truly hits different after the actual confession, despite being written six years early it feels like its actually what could have gone down more or less if the writers weren’t talentless demons who hate us.

My Roots Take Flight** - mature/125k. reverse au where cas is a hunter and dean’s an angel...OR IS IT???? an alternate retelling of s4. tw for briefly being set in a psychiatric hospital/the hospital being mentioned somewhat frequently throughout the fic, plus more references to torture in hell and heaven than usual.

The One Thing You Can't Lose* - teen/4k.you know those posts about how cas is a super-strong super-tough ancient warrior but he just lets dean tug him around because he likes it? thats it thats the fic.

Hands, From Which All Things Are Built - teen/14k, post s8′s ‘goodbye stranger.’ cas is on the run with the angel tablet but keeps in touch with sam and dean by text, he and dean still manage to be terrible at Actual communication.

Autrement, Danger - or, The Account of an Exceedingly Long Day - mature/30k, post s11. a monster that takes the appearance of your soulmate leads to some wild miscommunications and dealing with years of repression, also dean gets to see cas’ true form which is always cool. tw for non-graphic mentions of underage sexual assault/sex work.

Down to Agincourt - mature/explicit/900++++k, endverse continuation. endverse!cas survives his encounter with lucifer and discovers another time-displaced dean from s7. i’ve only read the two of four parts but its really good, veeeeery slow burn, has a lot of fun oc’s and takes a rather surprising but (imo) entertaining and intriguing turn into Hellenic history and mythology. usual tw’s for endverse/endverse!cas but nothing graphic, it’s actually pretty light-hearted (relatively speaking of course).

Nothing Equals the Splendor** - explicit/8k, THEE finale fix it fic you’ve been waiting for! posits that the entire final episode was just a (very bad and lame) djinn’s vision.

like moses and batman and james dean - explicit/31k, post s8. explores dean’s trauma and internalized homophoba from his technically canon experience with sex work and its impact on his relationship with cas. the sex work itself isn’t really shown in any detail but it’s still a relatively heavy fic.

Crazy Diamonds - explicit/25k, s4/alternate s14. fresh-out-of-hell dean and dean from 10 years in the future are displaced from time and sent to each other’s present.

where the weeds take root - explicit/30k. au where the men of letters kick them out of the bunker and they accidentally move out into the country, get over their codependence and semi retire. featuring chicken coop building, sam volunteering at a dog shelter, gardening, and blissfully mundane domesticity.

No Resting Place - teen/6k. djinn dream fic, switches back and forth between cas’ dream of being married to dean and retired from hunting to the aftermath when he wakes up. tw for brief mention of suicide since, y’know, djinn dream.

any port in a storm - mature/52k. post s8 finale. cas and dean have to pose as a couple going through a rough patch for a case and actually deal with their emotional baggage, cas struggles with being human and metatron is up to stuff.

all this and heaven too* - explicit/7k. in the author’s own words ‘...a love letter to every trans person who ever projected onto Dean Winchester.’ absolutely unzipped me emotionally and theologically, its just. so good. tw for very brief mentions of internalized transphobia/dysphoria.

Because it is* - mature/6k, finale fix it. killing chuck does not bring back anyone back and the winchesters spend a very long time dealing with what they’ve lost, cas and dean SOMEHOW still manage to have signifigant communication issues even after the confession. tw for suicidal thoughts/brief attempt.

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit* - teen/4k, s6. when cas fell for dean it automatically soulbonded/angel married them, shenanigans ensue when dean finds out during the angel’s civil war. funny and actually written back when s6 was airing so cas is still (or at least pretending to be) kind of an OP asshole which is fun.

Rinse, Repeat - teen/3k, s8. angsty character study of cas as he’s reprogrammed and trained to kill dean. not really dean/cas since its just cas’ pov of canon events but its beautifully written and ends with him snapping out of it through the power of love (also now a canon event!).

Emergence - explicit/59k, canon divergent after s11. dean meets a hunter he only recognizes as their friend claire novak’s missing father, but soon realizes he might be the answer behind the mysterious void in his memories and feelings (aka everyone’s memories of cas are completely wiped away for three years).

Cuckoo And Nest - explicit/10k, early established relationship/character study, cas tries to figure out how he fits into dean’s life and space in the bunker.

Build a Home* - teen/20k, canon divergent s12. sam and eileen are cute and turn the bunker into men of letters/hunters hq and everyone but cas moves in, mutual miscommunication issues and pining ensues.

Down in the River - teen/5k, early s8, cas prays to dean in purgatory while sam and dean try to figure out a way to get him out.

Teaching Poetry to Fish* - mature/52k, ?? BC through the entire series/canon divergent s14 and 15. retelling of crucial scenes throughout the shows timeline from cas’ pov, feat. actual fish and poetry.

the minor fall, the major lift - gen/4k, post confession/finale fixit. dean goes into the empty to save cas and runs into several old friends (and enemies).

With the Kisses of His Mouth* - teen/3k, gen later seasons. dean and cas keep kissing by accident.

Remaining Grace - explicit/109k, alternate s6. au where cas asks dean for help with raphael and dean, of course, does. tw for temporary major character death/semi-graphic depictions of alcohol withdrawal.

The face of heaven.* - teen/10k, au, dean is a regular guy and cas is a fallen star (think ‘stardust’, kinda).

Stories Are Made of Mistakes*  - teen/5k. newly human cas has trouble getting used to a human body and humanity in general, but still figures out that he and dean are A Thing before dean does.

Hurry Up And Wait - mature/21k, canon divergent s12. a fairyland and quite possibly LOTR related case comes up and dean goes full fanboy, mary is introduced to the wonders of the peter jackson adaptions, many references and comparisons (including between cas and dean’s ‘friendship’ and arwen/aragon). also charle is still alive and has just been doing fairy stuff this whole time.

There Are Many Things - explicit/28k, s9. cas is extremely lonely/touch-starved and trying to figure out this whole human thing, as well as where he and dean stand after being kicked out of the bunker.

It's A Long Life to Always Be Longing - teen/40k, post s11 finale. amara helps dean by putting him in a magical coma so he can finally get some much needed rest and show him possible futures for him, sam and cas. meanwhile sam and cas go on a roadtrip (or several) to find componets for a spell to wake dean up. really good sam and cas friendship, they actually talk about their shared lucifer trauma and stuff.

Non-Photo Blue - gen/2k, s4/5/alternate s5. fifty moments from cas’ memories of dean.

Tall Grass - explicit/57k, canon divergent post series. cas becomes the ultimate plant dad. feat the wayward sisters gang, cathartic character growth, fun oc’s, domesticity, and lots of actual botanical info-dumping.

on vessels - no rating/gen/2k. established dean/cas, cas tells dean about how he used to imagine what it would be like to have him as his vessel.

search for tomorrow on every shore* - teen/11k, post-finale (extremely derogatory). some angels in jack’s new heaven act out and dean gets temporarily resurrected in 2003 and runs into his younger self.

Architecture of the Minotaur’s Heart - explicit/45k, very canon divergent post s1. dean’s new house seems to have a life and mind of its own, while in his dreams he sees glimpses of a world and apocalypse that never came to be and an angel that looks strangely like his mysterious neighbor, cas. loosely inspired by the book house of leaves (which i highly recommend for fans of weird horror).

The Distance Of The Setting Sun - explicit/17k, post s5. established dean/cas relationship, team free will finally takes advantage of cas’ abilities to go on vacation around the world.

diamond star halo - teen/5k, s11. dean lets cas use him as a temporary vessel while he recovers from rowena’s spell, sam is a long-suffering third-wheel.

Make Known** - teen/16k, s6/7. dean struggles to understand how cas could have become his enemy and whether he ever truly knew him in the first place.

blunt little instrument* - mature/1.4k, post finale. dean finally confronts his father in heaven, very cathartic.

my heart a compass*** - teen/10k, post confession. the empty forces cas to re-experience his most regretted moments while dean tries to snap him out of it and bring him home.

A Crash Course in Someone Else's History - teen/11k, s6. cas from the very start of s4 is brought forward in time by s6!cas to distract the brothers from his and crowley’s plans.

The Cuckoo Father - mature/8k, s7 au. the woman who found cas in the river post-leviathans does not marry him bc he was sent to her by god or whatever, but actually identifies him as jimmy novak and sends him back to claire and amelia.

The Dead Dean Clause* - teen/5k, post alt s5 ending. team free will celebrates surviving taking down lucifer by getting blitzed, cas lies to a cop and gets an impromptu driving lesson. title/description sound dark i know but it’s actually very funny and light.

Suck It, Judy Garland - mature/20k, s12 (after the ‘i love you...i love all of you’ episode). cas and sam have to pretend to be a couple for a case and dean is NOT happy about it.

By Daylight and In Dream - teen/16k, s5. pre-dean/cas, dean invites cas to use his dreams to hide from the other angels. tw for very brief mention of a memory/dream of alastair sexually assaulting dean.

The Five People You Meet in Heaven - mature/22k, post-canon. an actually happy (if sometimes bittersweet) heaven endgame written several years ago, though some details are rather eerily similar to the show’s ending.

heaven is a place on earth* - teen/2k. dean’s pov of some of the times cas left him behind throughout the show, and one alternate ending where he finally gets to stay.

I Cleanse The Mirror - teen/20k, alternate s6. dean’s body is stolen by an ancient elemental and his soul has to hitch a ride in cas’ vessel.

an exploration of gender; angelic*** - mature/4k. *oscar isaac voice* lets get into angel gender politics!! aka cas is trans.

Zenith - explicit/33k, s9. after 9x06 an angry witch curses cas with the ability to see supernatural beings and human souls.

La cucina. - gen/3k, alt s9. dean goes wild helping a newly-human cas find out what kinds of food he likes, or the early s9 domesticity we deserved!

Dean Winchester, Cocksucker at Rest***** - teen/7k, post-finale. john and mary finally come over for dinner and john reacts to dean/cas in a rather predictable fashion. SOOOOOOOOO good omg, its so funny and a little sad and very very cathartic. part of a series that has a few other really good short fics.

The Way You Didn't Go - teen/5k, s15. coda to 15.09, dean has nightmares about the moc!cas timeline.

On Drowning - teen/28k. dean saves cas after he nearly drowns, they both try and deal with the physical/mental fallout (aka the fic where thee iconic “you only touch me when you think I’m dead or dying” originates). tw for realistic depictions of drowning/triage/misc medical information.

The Thirty-Six Questions That Lead to Love* - mature/13k. claire has dean and cas pretend to be her gay dads for a case and they play the titular 36 question game, get mistaken for swingers, and birdwatch, among other things.

Assorted F/F stuff:

Deep Breaths* - mary/ellen, au where mary said no to azazel’s deal and let john stay dead, still becomes a milf.

Like Rebel Diamonds - krissy/claire, they become hunter gf’s on the hunt for cas to kick his ass for taking jimmy. not-so-stealth dean/cas as well.

To Ash and Bone - anna/ruby, same author as the previous fic (p much all of her stuff is good from what i recall). au where ruby is a witch and helps anna when she’s cursed.

Holy Clockwork Angels - jo/ruby, STEAMPUNK au with very cool worldbuiilding.

At Day's End - jo/anna (my fucking KINGDOM for more jo/anna content, the dean/cas parallels are allllll there), au where they are both at the camp in the endverse and gfs.

these posts - ok so not actually a fic but i’m now obsessed with this hannah/meg dynamic.

Tagelied - mary/ellen, the true story of how ellen got into hunting before angels interfered.

Hell's Bells** - meg/abaddon, alternate s8/9 where meg survives crowley’s attack with sam’s help and teams up with abaddon (who she has a sk year old crush on) to take back hell.

The Ecstasy of the Rose - anna/ruby, anna travels back in time to escape heaven and becomes a signifigant part of ruby’s old human life.

Angel Underground - anna/jo, kind of an urban fantasy au with a very intriguing premise (sadly its very short, i’d love to see more if this ‘verse).

Clover, Flame - billie/mary, billie was always the reaper that showed up to take mary after her death(s) over the years.

Drag Me To Heaven - anna/ruby, a variant on the ‘last night on earth’ thing with dean.

Come Home* - jo/anna, canon-divergent au where anna is the new waitress at the roadhouse and helps jo set up a (probably not really) haunted house for halloween.

[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.”

[user21340]

my only exception

(i don’t own this gif or any of the characters in this fic)

summary: you and nat are separated when in the Red Room. you both are reunited. after holding onto a couple things to give her for a couple years you both realize love is well and alive.

warnings: violence, abuse, swearing, lil angst, fluff

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

word count: nearly 1.8k

a/n: omg i don’t know what to say! thank you for all the support on the stuff i’ve released so far. it’s super crazy seeing some of my favorite writers following me. thank you so so much for 30 followers! much love 💕💕

(italics in dialogue mean the person is speaking russian)

sorry for any mistakes i wrote this at 3am and have to get up for school at 6 😪 no bueno

It was a cold and stormy night as the power in the Red Room continuously flickered on and off even with the help of a high powered generator.

You and Natalia had been waiting for an event like this to occur so you could break out. Even though both herself and you lived only a small bit of life outside in the real world before you were taken in and trained to become a weapon, both of your humanly morals knew right from wrong. The Red Room’s treatment definitely being a wrong.

Madame B and the other monstrous staff at this facility put all you girls to bed roughly an hour ago. Nat and yourself undid your cuffs connecting your wrist to the metal bedframe so you could pack the few things you both owned before you made your escape. Both of you had talked this plan over through and through so you both were on the same page as soon as you saw that flicker of a power outage surge though the site.

At the moment you both were eighteen years old meaning both of you had proven yourselves worthy enough to hone a spot at this academy and had graduated a couple months prior.

GAME PLAN

Some information you had gathered which the staff weren’t aware of was every time the power flickered off, it disarmed and unlocked the exit door/s for nearly five seconds. The weather has been dry but cold lately not making this discovery too useful. The plan was to sneak over to uncuff yourselves in the middle of the night when these brief power outages were occurring, pack your items, and as you were about to escape bang on the wall of the large room where the girls kept at the academy would sleep to create enough of a distraction before you were out and free for good. Easy right? How wrong you’d be.

When it was time for the distraction, Nat stood by the door waiting for the next surge of lightning of whatever broke the electricities stability as you walked to the far side of the sleeping quarters where you were sure you’d have enough time to bang on the walls and sprint out of that door.

You heard a crash of thunder so you knew your escape chance would be soon. As you were about to start banging on the walls you see a door knob parallel to Nat but far away none the less start turning.

BAM

Lightning strikes, what seems to be right outside of the building. You sprint for the door only to have your arm caught by one of Madame B’s henchmen.

Just like that the power flickers.

five.

Without much thought you break away from the man’s grasp lunge at Natalia who happened to be at the door.

four.

“We’ll meet again Natalia.” you speak softly

three.

You shove her out of the door with all of your might.

two.

You use all of your remaining strength that you can muster up to slam the heavy metal door closed.

one.

Click

The door locks once again.

“You stupid little bitch. Get over here NOW!” the man practically growls.

You slowly and steadily walk over to the man as he gruesomely pummels and kicks you.

Sure the beatings, mind torture and manipulation hurt, but you’ve never experienced any kind of pain on the same caliber to what being separated from Natalia feels like.

Madame B is more than disappointed, enraged and annoyed with one of her ‘star students’. You receive daily beatings and long, tiresome training hours for helping Natalia escape. Although everyone is ‘replaceable’ in the minds of the staff as well as Madame B, they just lost Natalia so they couldn’t afford to lose you as well.

Months later the beatings finally slow down to a couple a week which you are able to endure. Madame’s mission now is to make a monster out of you by pushing you to and past your limits when training.

One night you finally drift off to sleep. You hate sleeping. It’s a constant replay of your last night with Nat. Only hoping that she made it to civilization safe and sound and is living a normal teens life. However, tonight’s dream is different. In this dream you see yourself shoving your packed-escape bag between your mattress and bedframe as you are bleeding out on the ground from the beatings. You wake up in a cold sweat and manage to kneel on the ground and slowly lift up your mattress only to find that same, small bag filled with the few, but important belongings of yours and Nat’s. You open up the bag forgetting all about what you both had packed. The most important items you see is a picture of Natalia as a toddler with alongside her mother and father, a small metal ring which you had made for her after stealing a small teaspoon at dinner, banging it against the concrete floor with a rock to flatten it out as you’d continuously bend it back and fourth so only the thinnest part is of the spoon is left which you bend into a ring before surprising Nat with it after you know she had a pretty rough day training, and lastly Nat’s papers containing important info about her such as her full name, birthplace, parents names, and birthdate.

November 22, 1984

November 22, 1984

November 22, 1984

November 22, 1984

You make sure you have this date burned into your head, latching onto any important information about her you can learn.

You hang onto those three items keeping them hidden.

Two and a half years later...

It’s late at night when you hear gunshots and fights breaking out throughout the facility. You quickly get up out of bed (once again undoing your cuffs) and grab those three items from under your mattress. You place them in your pocket getting ready to make a break for the outside world. As you reach for the door you turn back taking one last look at the place you’ve been living for pretty much the entirety of your life, only before a man in a funny red, white, and blue costume enters your view.

You bring your hands up ready for a fight.

“Look kid, I’m not here to fight you. We are breaking you out.” the man ensures

“Who even are you?” you sternly question

“Steve Rogers. But the public calls me Captain America.” his gaze settles on your figure, “Mind telling me who you are?” he pushes

“Names y/n, but look I’ve got places to be ma-“ you are cut off when Captain America’s jaw drops.

“No, we both know you don’t. But, you ARE coming with me.” you know there isn’t much room for protest but that won’t stop you from trying. You lunge at him and push him to the ground as you wave a small goodbye and sprint towards the door only for your body to fall on the ground limp. Realizing you’ve been stunned by something temporarily.

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” you shriek, he only chuckles.

“God, Nat was right about you.” she shakes he head with a small grin on his face.

“N-nat?” you whisper as you vision fades black.

You regain consciousness and look around only to find yourself in a weird windowy, loud vehicle type thing. You see a group of people standing around you but you see one particular familiar face hovering directly over yours lightly combing through your hair with one one hand and gently outlining your jawline with the other.

“NAT!” you screech, your brain is feeling too many emotions to comprehend at the moment.

Once she sees and hears you are awake she pulls you into a bone crushing hug.

“Y/n/n I’m so sorry I left you and you had to stay in that hellhole for so long alone I don’t know how I would’ve help up it if that-“ you cut her off

“Natalia, all that matters is I’m here with you right now.” you reason.

After getting off of what you learned is a ‘plane’ you and Nat spend hours together clinging onto one another as if, as soon as you separate you will be absent in her life for another couple years, vice versa.

Months pass by. Even though you and Nat have yet to label yourselves as a couple your hearts belong to one another after being attached to the hip to one another for pretty much every activity or mission you both do. In this time you were also recruited as an Avenger due to your skillful hand to hand combat and your masterful types of fighting you have nearly perfected from your time in the room.

The date just happens to be November 22. You are pretty sure no one in the compound is aware of Natalia’s birthday, hell, you aren’t even sure if she’s aware.

Today is the day you decide to return the missing items from her bag that you recover after she left.

You wake up next to her and wake her up with a long, graceful, soft kiss on her lips to which she responds shortly after by kissing you back as you feel as tiny smirk against your own lips.

“Hey, what was that for?” she asks playfully

“Ohhh nothing. Just maybe it’s for my favorite girl’s special day today.” Nat blushes.

“H-how’d you know?”

“Oh honey, I know e v e r y t h i n g.” you reply

Before she can respond you pull her to sit up on your shared bed and hand her an envelope containing her papers as well as he one and only photo of herself and her family.

As soon as she sees both items she sobs into your chest. (more because of the picture, you really only included her papers so she too would know all the most crucial parts of her life pre-red room era.

“Uh, uh, uh’” you tut,”One more thing.” you reach for her hand slowly and tell her to shut her eyes. You slowly slide the makeshift ring on her finger.

“Open.” you instruct

To which she gasps at the sight and just like the day you both were reunited you hugged and kissed for hours on end.

“Nat, will you be my girlfriend?” you ask with a sheepish smile.

“Of course y/n/n, I thought you’d never ask.” she takes a breath,“I know love is for children, but you are my only exception.”

“Ditto.” Natalia chuckles, “That is what the Americans say, right?” you backtrack with flushed cheeks.

She holds you tighter and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Sure.” she breathes out.