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hyukascampfire · 1 month ago

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𝑯EART 𝑊ORM ⸺ hueningkai ℘˒´ˎ˗

⨾𓍢ִ໋ ˒˒ 𝚑𝔢art𝚠𝔬rm

[𝑛]. a relationship or friendship that you can't get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smoldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire.

⸺ listen to the playlist .ᐟ ‧˚

〝﹙ 📼 ﹚“I was just... wondering,” you say, blood roaring. "Well, Yeonjun wants me to come over to his place this weekend, and... I’ve never...” Sucking in a quick breath, you just spit it out to get it over with, “Would you be my first kiss, Kai?” ˛ ､､

wc ➛ 17.9k

𝔭airings childhood bsf!kai x reader (lowkey soulmates?) ⤷ ft. asshole!yeonjun x reader

𝒢 ‎; smut ˒ angst ˒ some fantasy

𝔴arnings angst, family issues, fingering, jealousy (i’m sorry i just love ts), yeonjun really is an asshole, orgasm denial, thigh fucking, unprotected sex (they're stupid!), strength kink a lil bit, breeding kink, possessiveness, creampie, choking... i think that's all, lmk if i missed any

✎୭ ashlynn's note omg. this was such a fun palate cleanser to write. this wasn't supposed to be as big as it is, but it just kept getting bigger and bigger, and i got super into the story. this kai is SOOOO!! yeah. i’m so nervous posting this because i’ve only ever posted TSFAWC, but…. here you areee (^^;; this is not proofread, so if you see a mistake... give me a sec. i'll get to it. hehe

Though you fan your hand furiously over your face, the little breezes washing over your clammy skin are not enough. The air is thick and heavy with summer’s heat. So thick that you almost feel it each time you swallow. It’s better than just letting yourself melt away, though. The cushion at your back doesn’t help much. It holds your warmth and returns it to you the longer you sit slumped back into it. You suffer it though—you’ve gone too sluggish to move.

You let a leg dangle over the arm of a chair, watching a hopeful moth dance in the light of the buzzing porch light overhead. It flutters frantically in it, making a grand fight to reach that false moonlight, only to drop away when it realizes that it’s being burnt. You watch it rinse and repeat, relentless and sure, for who knows how long. It’s no special moth—no luna moth or the ones with the pretty pink wings—but the light falls down on it and colors it a pleasant stardust silver.

You delight in letting your conscious brain turn off to watch it. It lets you forget the sweltering under your skin, and also that Kai had drug you out here. His dad gives him shit when he plays inside, but it’s way too hot to be out here. Isn’t it supposed to cool off after the sun goes down? It doesn’t feel like it. The deep acoustics are drowned out each time a car whirrs by. Playing outside should be the best option, but you and Kai live right on a busy road.

When the roar of some car going ten miles over the speed limit doesn’t obscure his playing, though, you admire the intricacy of it. His fingers work up and down the neck, jumping frets that you imagine would be impossible to anybody without those long fingers of his. You had always been a loud supporter of his playing, even way back when the most he could play were simple chords, but you became especially so when a few years back he put a guitar in your hands and tried teaching you. Even with his fingers guiding yours, it was quick to learn that the effortlessness with which Kai handles the instrument is hard earned.

He practices on the acoustic guitar, but that’s not his domain. With houses just a dash across the street from each other, Kai had grown up at your home more than he had at his own. So vividly, you remember the stars in his eyes when he’d listen to your dad’s music. Metallica, The Smashing Pumpkins, Linkin Park, any of it. He had fallen in love with it a long time ago. Your whole life you knew that it was only a matter of time before he was in his own band, chasing his dreams with a boundless mind and an indelible vision of himself on stage. How had that time come so soon, though? You don’t know if the notebooks full of inky lyrics that live wherever he deems inspiration might hit him make you proud or nervous. He’s making good on his dazzling aspirations, and you?

You speak finally into the air, cutting through heat waves and his music and the night. “Isn’t it weird that we’re not going back to school after this summer?”

He doesn’t have to even stop playing to answer you. Playing comes to him as a second nature. “Kinda,” he answers, brown eyes flitting up to you. “But it’s not like you won’t be back to it in September. College is the same shit.”

The leg you’d been dangling and bouncing pauses. That’s right; you’re supposed to be going to that college you’d chosen because it was only a three-hour drive away from here. You pluck at the seat’s threadbare fabric, and the moth, still there, becomes oh-so-interesting once again. When his playing stops, you drop your head back with a cushioned thud and a groan that you wrangle in your throat.

“Why are you acting like that?” he says, voice gone sharp like accusation. He doesn’t even know the truth, but he’s known you too long.

Can’t you just keep secrets for yourself, sometimes?

Kai, arms clad in a well-loved hoodie even in this dreadful weather, lays the guitar down. You maintain your silence. “Seriously, what?”

Some secrets have timers, though. This one could only last you until about September, or even August when he realizes that you’re not preparing to return to school. A controlled sigh from your chest isn’t enough to soothe the nerves that sparks. “Nothing.”

“Secrets, huh?” Kai says. When you do finally look to him, black spikes of hair frame his eyes and the accusation in them.

It’s a simple poke, but it gets under your skin as sharp as any thorn might. It’s not like you don’t keep secrets from him, and you’re sure he keeps some from you too. But those are the little kinds, the inconsequential ones—like I ate already when asked why you’re not eating or like Yeah, I’m fine when it’s been a bad day. You don’t hide this kind of stuff from each other. Usually, you’d run over to his place to tell him whatever’s bothering you. Why not, when he’s known even the worst details of your life for almost the entirety of it? You’ve been holding this one close to your chest since somewhere around the end of senior year, though. The longer you let it fester, the worse your nervousness snowballs. “C’mon, Kai. Let’s not do this. Can you keep playing?”

He doesn’t like that, of course. But you watch recognition dawn over his chocolate brown eyes, helpless to stop it. “You’re not going,” he says. It’s not a question nor a suspicion, it’s a bone-dry fact.

Well. There that goes. You want to tear every hair on your head right out. Why had you even thought you’d keep him in the dark about it? When he’s not out in some garage making music, you two are together. The conversation was going to stroll by at some point; this was only inevitable. His disappointment radiates off him in waves and blisters you. He hasn’t even said anything yet, but you know exactly what he thinks of it. It’s why you kept it from him in the first place.

Your silence is enough confirmation for him. “Why?” he says. “I thought you were excited to move out.”

Wincing, you nod slowly. You were. Even went through the whole application process, along with most other kids your age. Ultimately, you never went through with declaring a college. You don’t exactly know why, but somewhere weaseled down in the shadowy recesses of your soul, you know. Taking those steps, the massive and terrifying ones from adolescence into adulthood, meant agreeing that this form of your life was over. It meant that at some point, you’d be moving away from here to where living your days away in Kai’s room would not be a choice. Everybody has to do it eventually, you know that. Kai’s music gig could take off any day, too. He’s going to make it happen. And then what? All this stalling and wishing on just a bit more time would mean nothing, he’d be off and chasing that dream. As excited as you are for it to finally become reality for him, there’s a nasty bitterness that’s budded in your chest, infecting your person.

Can’t things just stay like this?

“I was,” you say. It comes out of your mouth heavy.

“Then why aren’t you going?” he says. Crickets, never seen but always heard, sing their song into the night’s darkness. “You didn’t get rejected. You’re too smart for that.”

An ache sits heavily somewhere near the center of your chest, maybe over your heart. All those good grades, nights spent bent over a desk and AP paperwork—you’re wasting it. You shake your head. “No... just...” It’s an effort to dress your thoughts in a way that might appease him. A quiet moment stretches with your thinking before you continue, “I don’t know what I want to do.”

He doesn’t like that, the yellow wash of the overhead light dancing over his taut lips and hard eyes. “Don’t know what you want to do?” he says, bringing his legs up onto the seat to crisscross them. He wears his favorite jeans. They’re heel-bitten and baggy enough over his legs that he can wear them around the house without any bother. “You’ve wanted to be an artist your whole life. You know exactly what you want to do.”

Your chest only seems to ache harder. When the both of you were only young and hopeful, you both had big dreams. Kai was going to be the face of a metal band, and you were going to be an artist. A painter, potter, sculptor, even doing animation for those big companies like Dreamworks and Disney. You wanted any of it, just as long as you were doing art. You’d even promised him that you’d do the cover art for his albums with interlocked pinkies and flushed, hopeful cheeks. That passion and love wasn’t gone from you, it blazed strong in your veins. This blaze wasn’t the kind that kept you warm and excited to push forward into life, though. It had morphed into something that scalded you when you got too close or started imagining yourself pursuing its call. It’s a taunting silvery glow, no longer a guiding north star. Taunting words of family members stamped down on that hope hard. When you were little, it was said lighthearted and in passing. The older you got, though, the more serious their faces became. They wouldn’t say it outright perhaps, but you hear what they think well enough. Art is a dead-end career.

Shifting in your seat, you tell him, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?” Kai says. “There are good colleges for that.”

“I just... don’t know.”

Shaking his head, he tells you, “But you love it.”

You do. In its every form, you love creating. But loving it doesn’t mean that it’s right for you, or that you should trust your future in its hands. “I think I can do it in my own time,” you say, finally pushing yourself upright from the cushion. “Don’t wanna kill the passion by doing it for a living, you know?”

He thinks on that for a moment. “If you love it, you should do it,” he says.

An awful frustration bubbles in your chest. Kai has always had a clear life path, the steps ahead of him set in stone and waiting for him to follow in them. It’s hard for him to see why you might not want to do the same. There’s nothing that makes you as happy as the fact that he has it all figured out, that he knows just where he’s going and that he’s so incredible at it that he doesn’t have to worry about meeting the requirements, but your path seems obscured and untrodden. Punctuating a deep, resonant sigh, you say, “It’s not that easy, Kai.”

“If you’re not doing that, then what are you going to do? Are you just going to settle for a nine-to-five?” he says full of accusation, the tapping on his knees gone still.

A dry laugh, you say, “Maybe I’ll marry a super rich guy and just do my art for a living. No nine-to-five.”

His face flashes. He’d always been a bit reserved, especially around others, but he bared his emotions freely around you. You hold them dearly to your chest and made sure to do your best to make good on that trust. He says, “You’re more than some guy’s housewife.”

Cheeks radiating in the heat, you snort. “I know, dork. I’m a rockstar’s best friend. It’s my personal favorite achievement.”

His face sours when you reach out and pinch hard at his cheek, but he doesn’t pull away or brush you off. The skin there is warmed and clammy. Really, the two of you should go meet the cool AC inside before you suffer heat stroke. But this moment feels so nice—your shoulders feel tons lighter without something to hide. If you had it your way, things would stay like this forever. Just the two of you, sat here like you have so many times before, just taking for granted the time you’ve got together.

His mouth opens to banter, probably something about how he’s not a rockstar yet or to get you back for calling him a dork. Wingbeat and sterling dashes about your face send the image into a blur, though. You’re a quick mess of limbs and a whipping head, as if it’ll chase the thing away from you.

“Seriously?” Kai says. You’d climbed halfway over him, elbows digging into him and knee doing a number on his thigh. “It’s a moth. You’re not scared of moths.”

Lingering for a few moments later to ensure the flying thing was nowhere on you or around you, you hold back a laugh before you climb off him and fix your hair with undignified tucks behind your ears. “He was in my face,” you say around a laugh, because you know it was a bit too much. Nobody likes wings in their ears and spindly legs in their face, though, and you’re in no control of what you do when anything with six legs tries and get too friendly. Even moths.

“You just wanted me to protect you,” he says. A sarcastic, shit-eating smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

“Oh,” you scoff, batting your eyelashes and clasping your hands together all saccharine-sweet. “Yes, Romeo, won’t you kill that bug for me? This girl’s heart just can’t take it!”

Kai’s nose crinkles, and the playful light twists into a glare. “Nasty.”

“That’s how you sounded,” you say. “I only reacted accordingly.” Laughing, you kick your legs out over his lap and sprawl back out. He takes the guitar back into his hands.

As much as you want to escape the mugginess, you’ll survive it for just a little while longer—if only with the force of an indulgent heart. The eternal moments are those you allow to linger.

⚝⭒

Some things, you forget when you’re older. Maybe it’s time’s hand, eroding memories down and stuffing more in the longer you live to experience them. But also maybe because they’re the sort of things you can’t say in the adult world without a laugh in the face and a look from down their noses.

This memory is one of those forgotten things. It’s moth-bitten and dusty, something you one day folded up in a moving box and decided to never revisit.

You’d been down at the creek. Kai and you had spent so many summer days there. It wasn’t too far from home, just past the filbert trees and into the shallow neck of the backwoods, but there you were out of sight and free to get up to nothing good. It was a wonder your mom ever let you do it. Kai’s dad didn’t care too much where he went or what he did, but your mom dug her claws in deep. You like to think that she imagined you two would have each other, if anything ever happened.

Usually, you’d be there holding your jeans up from the stream and Kai would be letting his jeans go dark with it. The bite of water was nice as it washed over warm skin. Fun was a simple thing to find, then. You dug your fingers into the mudbanks and tossed stones way too big to be throwing at each other, just because you two remembered how much the adults hated it when you did. Then, you’d drag tired limbs home avoiding sweetgum tree spikes that had fallen to the ground and dug splinters out from your feet.

This day, you had been in the blackberry bushes. It was maybe late July or early August, and they’d gotten heavy on their branches. You’d waited until the smell of them, summer-warmed, was sweet and cloying in the air to pick them. With buckets in your hands, you plucked only the fattest berries from their bunches. Your fingers were stained a delightful purple and perhaps a bit thorn raw, but you didn’t mind much then. You plucked for hours, and it was dusk before you could catch it. Dinner was no doubt waiting for you back home.

“There’s a bunch over here,” Kai had said. He reached a long boyish arm, still awkward and lanky with puberty, up high for ripe bush. You finished off picking before climbing around thick branches sticking out to take a peek. A bunch, there was.

When you went to drop a handful of them into your bucket, Kai hissed. He’d been snagged by a vicious looking branch, those ones as thick as a finger with thorns to match and you’d warn each other tongue-in-cheek to watch out for that one. He’d worn those ridiculous shorts that day, the ones that looked half pants half shorts with how long and baggy they were, and the claws of the bush had jumped at the opportunity. At first the scrapes were white, but then red blood crawled out and down his leg.

“Kai,” you said, some parts chiding and some parts just wondering how he’d managed that. You surveyed his leg for a bit, and then determined that he should wash his leg off in the stream. He walked there strong, but of course you noticed the hobble beneath his acting. When you squatted down into the dry grass and cupped water to wash off his leg, you laughed.

“What?” he had said, holding the shorts up. You covered your laugh with a hand, but it erupted past your palm. You remember the glare on his face very well.

You still laughed. “You’re stupid,” you had told him.

“I didn’t see it,” he said. “I tripped over it because it was sticking out.”

That time when you brought your hands to catch some water, there was a twinkle in its surface. You didn’t notice it for a second. The creek moved fast and you could see a lot of things in its reflection. When it lingered, that’s when your brows furrowed. It seemed to twirl, dancing around like alive over the stones.

The sound of Kai’s voice remains with you. “Hey,” he had said, strong to call your attention but also wavered with uncertainty.

When you looked up, there was silver dust dancing around you.

It was fluffy and whorling, fine silver stardust. It’d moved weightless in the air, as though it barely existed. In the center of it were a few moths. They seemed to be made of sterling powder just as the dust was, and they glowed against dusk’s backdrop. If your memory serves you right, there had been a sweet hymn of coos from them. They beckoned you. Summer’s heat felt lighter, and so did your chest. You wondered where they had wanted you to go.

Almost afraid that if you spoke they might have fluttered away, you whispered soft and low to Kai. “What is that?” He was stood frozen there, pant leg still scrunched up in his fist. Stardust glowed soft in his brown eyes while he took it all in, you remember. It wasn’t a scared frozen. You weren’t scared, either—rather, it was as if that lightness had found its way into the core of your being and brushed over it with mending hands.

He whispered back, “I don’t know.” How could he have known? It was absurd.

Those whisps had beckoned you, flowing toward the deeper woods. The soft moths, their murmuring brushing up against your ears, seemed to wait for you to follow. You remember a pull, soft tendrils wrapping themselves around your heart and the yearning it planted there.

But there was also this reluctance, a bone-deep answering that had told you: No. You’re not ready.

“Kai, I wanna go,” you told him.

You didn’t even need to tell him twice. Berry buckets forgotten; the journey home was a stranger one. When your dad asked why you returned from berry picking emptier handed than you had left the house, Kai and you only shared a look. You pair kept that evening at the creek hidden so well that it became more forgotten than shared secret.

⚝⭒

Once, you had been the type of girl that loved being around family. Some of your favorite days of your life were spent in this living room, T.V. roaring over bouncing conversation. Some of those nights ended in rosy cheeks and laughs, and some ended with words thrown angry like fireworks. You never knew which you’d be getting, but you endured the fear of not knowing because it was a simple love—the basic kind built with biology into you the moment your infant skin touched your mother’s. You endured it because eventually, sleep washed away the bad taste left in your mouth and you forgave them quick, sometimes quicker than you ought to, and things would go on as if it hadn’t even happened. You endured it because you could handle its burden, if only to feel the warmth you feel when it’s a good day.

Kai was always there—his dad was hardly home, so he found family in yours. When you were younger, you’d been embarrassed he was there for caustic, spitted words and intimate fights. Now, you’re just grateful for his shoulder.

So, yes. Once, you had loved being around your family. But things feel tenser now, nights spent all together less frequent and when they do happen, they’re tainted by a strange air. You think that this strangeness is new, but an awful worry also makes you think that it’d always been there, that you only feel it now because you’ve grown into your adult mind. A hollow ache stakes its claim in your chest, declaring that it won’t leave until you find that youthful ignorance and joy once more. You think that it might stay there forever.

Bare feet bounding down the stairs, you make a rare appearance downstairs. The cupboard is only half open to make way for a snack raid before your mom’s voice cuts through the air. You know quickly just by the look on her face that you should’ve stayed upstairs.

“Hey,” she says, gathering laundry into a basket. “You’ve been applying to jobs?”

With an anxious belly, you tell her, “Yeah. A few. They’re not really, like, ideal, but I sent applications.” You don’t remember when it got hard to look into your mother’s eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to do so now.

“Not ideal?” she says. “It’s not like you can be picky. Mcdonalds or wherever, I don’t care, you’re going to need to get a job if you’re staying here.”

“I know. I applied,” you reiterate around a mumble. You close the cabinets, not so interested in a snack anymore. “I just... I don’t know, ma. I don’t want to do that for a living, going between those sorts of jobs.”

Face hard and abrasive against the truth you bare, she does that awful taunting smile that makes you feel small. Stupid. “You’re not going to college, so that’s what it’s gonna be. You can’t sit up there and draw for a living. You’ve gotta get into the real world, get some real experience.”

There’s a burst of hurt in your chest, dazzling and gnawing. She’s getting closer to saying how she really feels about your dreams out loud every day. Your face burns and so do your eyes, knot thick in your throat. “Yeah, okay. Got it,” you say, nodding. You’re at the front door before you even know it, slipping on shoes and fighting the greatest internal battle to will back tears. She’d use those against you, no doubt about it. “I’m going to Kai’s,” you throw over your shoulder.

Whatever she barks back at you, you’re glad you don’t hear. Bells on some old Christmas decoration hung on the door that had yet to be taken down, even into summer, jingle and wash it away for you.

Kai’s brows shoot up when he opens the door to your face crumpling. You’d done so well at damming it up, but the wall cracks and the water crashes through once you see him. If it were anybody else, you’d feel icky and attention seeking, but you’d held Kai to your chest through gut-wrenching sobs as much as he’s done it for you. Without question, he takes you into his arms, warm hand running up and down your back. The warm soothing is so familiar. You melt right into it.

He keeps you there for a long moment. Then, his chest rumbles as he tells you, “Come on.” The walk through the AC to his bedroom is nice. Having a house like Kai’s to come to where it can just be you is nice, too. You step around the mess of clothes and scattered belongings on his floor like you have a muscle-memory roadmap of his room. Boxsprings creak and hard mattress welcome you back home. His room is dark as always, a night-dweller you call him. The array of peeling band posters plastered over walls you two had painted blue some years ago, when it’d been his favorite color, don’t help to lighten it up. He keeps a low lamplight on.

“She never listens to me,” you say, crying gone to occasional sniffles from your chest. You rest your cheek on your bent knee.

“I know,” he says. “But at least she cares about you. Pays attention to you.” His voice is soft and deep and right next to you. Always right next to you, there for you even when you might not appreciate it as you should.

His dad cares too little what he does, and yours care too much. The grass is always greener on the other side, you know it. Still, you hold a fantasy where you’re able to do teenager stuff. Where you’d allow yourself to do bad things, because you weren’t so intent on painting yourself with their will. You two hold eyes for a long moment, your twinkling ones caught in that steady brown. “I just want to get away. Be my own person.” Your words are muffled in the softness of your skin.

“You had the chance to do it,” Kai says, hand playing with your fingers. “But you didn’t.”

Holding your legs closer, you lick your lips. What do you say to that? Would it ever be the time to tell him that you did it because you think that your soul is pathetically intertwined with his, and that it might snuff your lifeforce out to even try pursuing life without him? Without this? How do you tell him that you’re so frozen and unwilling to pursue any sort of future because it means accepting that this chapter is over? You clutch childhood to your chest like a wild animal guarding scarce food; you refuse. You refuse to acknowledge its end.

“Kai,” is all you say, trembled and thick. It’s not just your mother’s words that dig at you and tear to shreds the last bits of what dreaming you had left in you, but so many other reality checks too. This isn’t the first time you’ve heard those sorts of words, urging you forward. You can only dig your heel into the ground for so long before you’re swept away in time’s ruthless, endless moving.

He understands. Lifting your face with warm fingers against your cheeks, he says, “Hey. How about we go get ice cream, or something?”

Ice cream does sound nice. “Dairy Queen?”

Smirk tugged over his mouth, he says, “Yes, Dairy Queen. A blizzard. C’mon, let’s go.” Sliding off the bed, he offers you an urging hand up.

But you falter. “I don’t know if we can. She’s mad at me. I don’t think she’ll let me go.”

“Let you go?” he says, eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t have to let you go. You’re an adult now, you go if you want to.” He offers his hand to you again.

It’s so him, freely going wherever he ordain it. The bullheadedness is very him, as well. Always the devil on your shoulder, he was the root of any rebellious thing you’ve ever done. He could never understand your apprehension, or why getting in trouble was such an awful thing to you. “I have to ask to get money.”

Brows pinching, he says, “You think I’m not gonna pay for you? You don’t need them to give you money, I’ll pay. I’ll take care of it.” He drags you up from the bed this time. “Live a little. Do you want to go?”

It was never the punishments or the getting in trouble that you were scared of, though. Disappointment was a scarier word than grounded. Sneaking out and those sorts of things, it’s not like you had angel wings at your back and never considered them. It’s that you are deeply, utterly terrified of changing how they look at you. You begin to tell him, “I do, but��”

He cuts you off, adamant. “Then do it. Let’s go. If you want to go, then go,” he says. “At some point, your life needs to become your own. It’s not sneaking out when you’re graduated and eighteen years old, it’s going wherever the hell you want. You’ve... You’re gonna end up stuck here, in this town, forever. You don’t deserve that.”

That sounds like both the best and the worst thing you’ve ever heard. You take his hand.

⚝⭒

Your frozen fingers nurse your ice cream. The cup itself is cold, but the Dairy Queen on your side of town is always thirty degrees below what it should be. It’d always been that way. Even way back when you two couldn’t drive, you’d get dropped off here to escape the melting weather and get a frozen treat with a handful of dollars. Each time, you’d start off sagging with the relief of summer’s weight off your shoulders and left the place shivering and sugar-mouthed.

It’s really only you two in here. You crinkle your nose when he takes a spoonful. “Out of all the flavors...”

Unbothered and no doubt expecting you to say it, he offers you a flat, “You get your flavor, I get mine.” He makes a point of taking an extra-long bite. His lips linger around the red plastic of the spoon and his brows rest high in silent challenge.

The corners of your lips twitch up. “Hmm. Well. I just have a hard time believing that Oreo... or, like, brownie fudge, is right there, and you actually want M&M. I don’t get how M&M your favorite.” A familiar banter falls over your tongues. Your heart buzzes and your cheeks radiate. This is the first you’ve done this all summer, and it’ll be weaning off into fall soon. Any other summer, you would’ve been here on all the hottest days. You hate that Kai’s been so busy with his music; you hate that you can hear the resounding ticks of the clock counting down your time. You also hate that the stubborn depths of you still believe that if you freeze yourself here in stasis that the world will relent and stop along with you.

You look over the sharp lines of Kai’s jawline as it feathers with his chewing, and the broadness of his shoulders where his jacket stretches around it, and the starkness of his collarbones against his chest and the bobbing of his adam’s apple when he swallows. No, time doesn’t stop. Some of him remains the same, though. In it, you see the boy that had love creeping up on you so long ago, with all its aching and all its hope. That freckle on the column of his neck, the bump in his nose leading down to the button tip that beckons your lips to steal a quick kiss.

And, those lips. They’re as soft as ever around the discontented grimace he pulls. “M&M isn’t my favorite.”

With a pursed mouth and patronizing brows arched over your eyes, you say, “Oh, huh. That’s funny, because if my memory serves me right, it’s the only flavor you’ve ordered for the past... six years.”

Kai husks a laugh at that. “That’s because they haven’t had my favorite for years,” he tells you, scooping up the final bit and then pushing it off to the side. “It was a blizzard of the month that they discontinued. The blackberry cheesecake one. I made peace with it, though. It lives on in my heart.” He grins, arms crossed over his chest and his back settled into the booth seat to let you finish your cup.

“Blackberry cheesecake,” you say, voice made taunting. Your nod is slow and taunting, too. “Well, forget M&Ms. Why would blackberry cheesecake be your favorite? Ever?”

His face falters, a moment where something flows over his eyes as if reliving a memory in a few short seconds. Then, he shrugs. “It just is.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever,” you laugh. “Maybe my palate is unrefined.” Imagining the tarte fruit in purple swirls of ice cream, you’re taken back to a humid July day and the scent of churned mud.

The strange memory unfolds itself quick. As if it were waiting for you to find wherever it’d hidden itself away. With a sharp gasp, you say, “Oh my god, Kai. Do you remember that one day? That weird stuff we saw down at the creek?”

He nods. “Yeah. I was just thinking of that the other day, actually...”

Less interested in finishing your cup now, you let the spoon rest. “What?” you say, the word peaking in the middle. That day hadn’t crossed your mind once since it’d happened. “How weird is that?”

Scoffing a laugh, he says, “Weird, yeah. Just as strange as two kids high on fermented berries.”

That draws a breathy laugh from you. “Is that what you think it was?” you ask him with knitted brows. The berries had been fresh, and you two had popped plenty into your mouth. But no doubt, you’d have spat them right back out if they were that ripe. “I mean, we saw the same thing.”

“It happens to animals all the time. Squirrells, and stuff.” He lends you a gallic shrug. “We just freaked ourselves out. Like that one time you said you saw the shape of something in the dark and we freaked out. And it was clothes.”

Well, hallucinating, in tandem, a glowing mist because you two by chance ate fermented berries is a very long shot. However nonchalant he acts about it, he seems to have thought long and hard about it. Enough to reason it away with some far cry explanation. Would you have even been able to get drunk off a handful of fermented berries? And, god, you’re really sure that you’d have noticed. That taste isn’t really one you just don’t notice.

Whatever. Maybe you were just drunk idiots. That’s a lot easier to swallow, anyway.

“Okay, but you saw that. Did it not look sinister?” you say. With your spoon back in your hand, you punctuate the sentence pointing it at him. “You freaked out with me, too.”

An unsatisfied scowl on his lips, he steals a spoonful of your dessert. You don’t even swat him away—your phone buzzes in your pocket.

Catching sight of who’s calling, you share a long look with Kai. It’s funny, how fast those three white letters scramble you up. When you hesitate to answer, Kai tells you, “Answer.”

You hope she can’t tell you’re not at Kai’s by the refrigerators’ dull buzzing. It’s an effort to tussle that invasive worry back. You’re at Dairy Queen. Getting ice cream with the boy she’s known since childhood. She should clutch her hands and thank the sky that you’re here, not out in some nasty frat house like you could be. You thumb the green button.

Her voice comes through the speaker crackled and asking you to run over to do a quick dish load. For a heartbeat you consider telling her that you will and then start rushing home. Instead, you fork out the truth through resistant lips.

The hangup tone sits heavy on the air between you and Kai. Having listened to the whole thing on speaker, he says, “What was so hard about that? The world didn’t end, did it?”

The plush of your lip takes a hard gnawing. No, it hadn’t. “I know she’s not going to get mad at me for just going here,” you say as you rest your elbows onto the table. “It’s that they’re supporting me right now. I still live under their roof. The more I go around and insist I can do whatever I want, they’ll start reminding me of it.”

His face drawn, he lets his mouth twitch to one side. “Yeah,” he muses. “I never thought yours would be the type to kick you out.”

Kai’s dad had started threating him with getting kicked out years ago, when he first started telling him that he wanted to do music. How many times had he let reluctant tears flow into your shoulder over it? Because music wasn’t a real job? Back then, you’d whispered in his ears that he’d become everything he’d dreamed of and more as your fingers carded through shaggy locks of hair.

“I don’t know,” you say, humming it out noncommittally. “Is your dad still... y’know?”

Nodding slowly, his eyes tell. “Yeah. Always.”

“Because you’re taking the band seriously, now?” you ask.

“Probably. I don’t give a shit what he thinks about it. If I’m just his goddamn problem, I’ll give him what he wants soon enough.” His eyes blaze with promise of it.

It takes a bit out of you to not wince. Kai living anywhere but in the house across from yours is wrong. “I don’t think he necessarily wants that, Kai...” You take his hand in your icy ones, the urge to reach out to him thinly veiled under the guise of searching out warmth. He’d always run warmer than you—your personal heater. “It’s probably because he can see that you’re doing it for real. Not just saying it anymore.”

“Yeah, well,” he spits, “I can’t fucking wait to see what he’ll say to me when I make it. That piece of shit, though, he wouldn’t even care. It’s not like he ever gave a shit about me enough for it to matter.”

But, it matters to you, you want to tell him. You understand his need to throw it all in his face, though. “Is that one label going to sign you? The one you were talking about?”

His tongue darts out to wet dry lips. “They haven’t yet. I don’t know. But I don’t need that money to get out of here, I’ve been working on it.”

“They will,” you say. “But, where would you go? Not too far?” You try and keep it light and playful, even as your heart aches.

“Come with me,” he says. It’s painfully blunt, as if it were that simple. “Let’s go get and apartment; you and me.”

“Kai...” you say. “You don’t have to drag me along because you feel bad.”

The idea doesn’t sound half bad, though.

“What?” His face tightens, as if somewhere under the surface your words had scraped somewhere tender. “You don’t have to stay here forever. Please. I want... I want you to come with me. You wouldn’t have to even tell them; just bring all your stuff and go together. We could do it together. Like we said we would.”

“We were like, five. Everybody tries to pretend running away at five,” you deadpan. It’s a washy attempt at lightening things back up.

Living with him, moving out together, should feel like everything you’ve ever wanted. And, maybe it is. But, he’s not asking you to live with him the way you want him to. Not in the way that your aching heart wishes he would.

Kai doesn’t share the laugh you give him. “Yeah, okay,” he says, leaning into the table.

Perhaps you should consider the potent disappointment he’s terribly masking with a face of indifference, though.

⚝⭒

Slowly, the knots in your belly have worked themselves out. When Kai had dropped you off, they’d been so awful that you felt borderline sick. You sat the whole ride there in his old beat-up truck picking at your nails and rambling to him. He listened to you the whole time. And then when it was time to walk in, it had least felt a little easier to do so with his eyes on you, watching to make sure you made it in safely.

You’d gotten a job. It’s not too bad, folding clothes out on display. It would be nice if they kept the lights a bit brighter, but you’ll get used it eventually, you hope.

Most of your coworkers are around your age, but the one showing you the ropes... your heart had fluttered.

“You’ll get it,” Yeonjun says. The smile you find on his lips once he straightens up from placing product on a display is smooth and smug. Sleek strands of black hair fall over his eyes. You fluster under his gaze.

With arms crossed over your chest you say, “Yeah, probably.” You reach into the cardboard box for stock to practice on.

“Where’d you work before this?” he asks, leaning back into a wall to watch you. Suddenly, you make sloppier work of your folding. “Your first retail job?”

Some obnoxious pop song falls down from the speakers over the store. Nobody’s in here yet, thankfully; you’ve got some time to try and get a handle on everything. “No, this is my first job. I was so nervous walking in.”

Interest catches in his eyes. It encourages that smooth smile on his lips further. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll show you the reins.”

Your mind stalls. The suggestive, sly flicker to it—are you looking too much into it? Maybe that’s just how guys like Yeonjun act. It’s hard to pretend that you don’t see how he’s looking at you, though. It has your belly twisted up in fluttery knots. It’s not like you hadn’t had your share of his type. But, for some reason you’d rather not address, he’s got your heart thumping in your chest.

He laughs at your fifth attempt to fold up the shirt. When he takes it from you to help, he smells of musk and vetiver. “You going to college near here?” he continues.

“Nah, just doing this, I guess,” you answer, watching him fold it up to try and soak it up.

“Really? Why not?” he hums, crossing his arms about his chest. “You seem like a smart girl.”

Buffering, your blood buzzes in your veins and your cheeks burn. “Dunno. Not really sure what to do. Are you in college?”

“Nah. I’m trying to figure things out, too.”

The both of you pop your heads up when the bell rings to announce the arrival of a customer.

“Yeah,” you say, eyeing him. He’s a few years older than you, no doubt, and yet his life hasn’t fallen apart because he’s not done anything grand yet.

Time’s hand around your neck loosens. Just a little bit.

⚝⭒

You sit crisscrossed on top of Kai’s bedsheets. He’d thrown the windows open because the AC died, but it’s no help. The hot air wafting about the room sits heavy on your skin. You’d dressed in as little material as possible to let it breathe, bare thighs clad in a pair of loose shorts and a thin tank top, but it’s still miserable.

Perhaps you two should be going over to yours, but you haven’t had time alone with him for a few weeks now. You hate this busier life, where you struggle to make room for this.

Your new job isn’t so awful, though. Especially with Yeonjun there. A bout of nerves flows up through your stomach. That reminds you.

Sitting up a bit straighter, you consider not doing it. In fact, you really shouldn’t. But your mouth moves before you can put a stopper on it.

“Hey, Kai,” you say. The thickness in your throat makes you believe that your heart’s jumped up into it, caught. God, what are you doing? The unsure waver in your words has you regretting.

His eyes flicker up to yours. He hums out a, “Huh?”

No, this is wrong. You mess with the thin cotton strap of your tank top where it’d slipped down. “Never mind,” you tell him, trying to shrug it off.

That piques his interest. “No, what?” His brow pinches.

You lick your lips and shake your head. “Nothing, never mind. Really.”

His eyes search you from where he sits up against the wall. “Tell me,” he demands.

Really, you shouldn’t have said it in the first place. It was a ridiculous idea. But now you know he’s not going to let it go. And, ridiculously, you say it. “I was just... wondering,” you say, blood roaring. "Well, Yeonjun wants me to come over to his place this weekend, and... I’ve never...” Sucking in a quick breath, you just spit it out to get it over with, “Would you be my first kiss, Kai?”

Insects buzz outside as he looks at you, frozen in spot. You reject the urge to dart away or throw up. You’re honestly just as shaken as him. But really, who else could you trust with something like that? You don’t want Yeonjun to be disappointed if he kisses you, or to seem inexperienced to him.

And, perhaps, the hopelessly in love part of you hopes to at least feel his lips on yours at least once. If you’re going to be alone forever in your longing, you just wish that you can have this.

“What?” Kai says. He looks rattled.

Of course, he’s shocked. You shift. “Forget I said that,” you tell him, unable to meet his gaze.

String-roughened fingers wrap around your upper arm. “I didn’t say anything,” he says, voice strained and face less shock-fallen and more darkened. “But... I mean, you want me to teach you to kiss for some other guy.” He spits out the last bit as if bitter in his mouth.

“You don’t have to do it,” you say. “I just... thought that I might ask you to do it. I don’t know, I’m sorry I said it. I’ll just wing it or something.” His room’s grown ten degrees hotter, if that was possible. Especially where you feel his eyes on your face.

Almost imperceptibly, his hand tightens around you. He swallows hard. “You want to learn how to kiss?” he says. “Fine. I’ll teach you.”

In a heart-stopping moment, your eyes snap to his. Brown and familiar, they hold you with an intensity that turns your limbs into jelly. The air is stifling. “What... do I do?” you ask when the silence becomes too heavy.

A muscle feathers in his jaw, reflected in the low light of his room. It’s quick and so easy to miss, but it tells you everything you need to know about how this is making him feel. How much disbelief he’s in. “Come here,” he says, stilted around the absolute absurdity of it. He pats on his lap.

You make a hesitant crawl across the bed toward him. It seems as though your elbows might buckle beneath your weight, but you make it despite the odds. A fog settles over your brain when you rest your hands on his shoulders and bring your legs to straddle his lap.

But you shove it back; you want to live and breathe every last second of this. No matter how unbelievable or blistering it is.

Breaths fan out over your face. It’s seizing your mind like undiluted liquor. “Where do I put my hands?” you ask him. It’s breathless, the air stolen right from your lungs though your mouths haven’t even touched.

“There is fine,” he says. His words sound breathless, too. The weight of his touch on you as he runs his own up to support your back is unsure. “And then...” he says. It falls out on your mouth slowly, and then he’s taking your lips onto his.

The walls melt away, sound does too. All that is real is the taste of his lips and how they move against you. Your lips start tentative, but you try his mouth movements yourself. It feels like a timid dance—it feels like deep, deep down, finally everything is right. That mist, thick and blinding, falls back over you.

Something changes. Something in it, where you two meet, changes. He becomes hungry. Softly locked lips turn biting and nipping, shaky breaths exhaled slow through your nose. His hands on your back become surer, and one even ventures off to grab your chin. The other holds you to his chest, melded together despite the intense smoke and flame rolling off your bodies. You wonder if he can feel your heart beating a mess there.

Reluctance paints you both when you pull back. You’re panting deep drinks of air. It’s hard to think; your mind’s run off and sits just out of reach. Licking your messy lips, stained with illicitness, you can only manage to brush your fingers against it to form words. “How... was that?” you say, searching his eyes. You find his pupils blown so wide that they consume the warm brown. You’re ready to jump out of your skin with that look pointed at you.

Kai doesn’t answer, though. He slams your mouths back together as if starved by just the brief moment you’d parted for air. Nips on your bottom lip and emboldened hands—he moves like roaring water through a dam. A dam that he’d worked hard to fortify, and yet, at a crack it’s all falling down. Fingertips digging through the fabric of your shorts down to your soft hips, his chest rumbles. You feel it reflected in your core, electricity charging there and shooting up your spine and down your thighs.

You kiss him for all the times you wish you would’ve, but didn’t. The slight rolls of your hips down onto him come easy. You love how it has him making a sound into your mouth and taking the fat beneath his fingers harder into his hands. He helps you.

He drops his head into your neck. Your head swims for air and he has you shuddering with just the brushing of his nose against the column of your neck. The walls of his room spin around you. “Kai,” you whine, every bit of friction his jeans provide, even clothed as you are, just enough to rile you but not to give you what you need.

“God,” he growls, thumbs hooking under your waistband. “You always fucking run around dressed in nothing,” he says, letting his fingers linger like a suggestion of undressing you. “Did you do it on purpose? Expect to make me crazy, knowing I couldn’t touch you?”

And, in those words, it seems that he steals every last bit of breath from you. How often had you gone braless or worn something like this around him? Laid here, in his bed, like that?

Grown tired of your fruitless grinding, he brings a hand down to support your lower back and says, “Turn around.”

Though you explode with the prospect of what he might be intending to do or what’s next, if you’re really going to do this, you do so in a flash of eager limbs. His chest is solid against your back, you melt against the feeling of it. He’d become such a man lately, filled out, and you watched it happen. It was hard for your eyes not to catch on muscle-corded forearms while he picked at strings or to not appreciate the timbred rumble of his voice when you’d feel it come from his chest. How could it not do things to you? Now, he’s dragging your shorts down your legs and you’re in disbelief.

“Fuck,” he breaths out. His fingers find your panties soaked through. “So, you’re the type to get dripping wet.”

An embarrassed blush decorates your cheeks. Kai drags his index finger in circles around your clit through the fabric as if enamored with how much of a mess you’d made of it. Your hips twitch every time he rolls right over it. It’s strange how he’s got your body acting on its own volition with his touches. Even stranger that it’s your best friend doing it. “Sorry,” you tell him, wavering.

He continues those terribly slow circles. “Sorry?” he says, chin on your shoulder. He’s got you wrapped up in him, with nowhere to go but to melt back into him and let his fingers work. Free hand on one of your inner thighs digging divots into the plushness there to hold it still, he tells you, “It’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s hot as fuck. You’re so excited for me to touch you, huh?”

The words wreak havoc on you, feeding the flame that has your belly twisted up tight and the ignition point between your thighs pounding. To hear them coming from him, reserved Kai, has you digging your fingers into his forearm to prove that it’s real. You’d never have imagined him being so... filthy. You imagine him behind falsely nonchalant eyes, devouring you with a perverted mind all the times you’d spent innocently sitting together in this room.

Your cheeks squish beneath his fingers as he takes your face and turns it to him. He wants to make sure you’re look at him as he asks you, “Do you want me to finger you?”

Like a record, your brain skips. Between the blunt, lewd question and his hand on you, it’s in overload. How could he ask something like that so simply? Stunned as you are, of course you want him to. You want him to do anything to you. You nod.

Every last nerve and neuron in your system, just below the skin, cry out when his fingers slow down to nothing. “Hmm?” he says, ignoring the chasing of your hips and the opening of your thighs to invite him into paying your poor pussy the attention he’d ripped from it. He wants to hear you say it.

About ten minutes ago, you lost your mind. It does not return to you now. “I want you to,” you say, chest beating in tandem with your cunt.

“You want me to, right? Not some dumbass you met a week ago, huh?” he says. “Because you know that this is what it’s meant to be. Me, doing these things to you. Not some twenty-five-year-old piece of shit. He doesn’t deserve you, baby. Understand?”

His fingers slider under your panties. Dumb brained and cognition gone muddled, you nod. All you can really think about is the moment his fingers slide over you. Fire licks up your lower belly and your insides as he brushes calloused finger tips finally right against your clit.

Puffed breaths of a scoff raise goosebumps over your skin. “Teach you to kiss so that you can go over there and get his hands on you,” he says, middle two fingertips prodding at your entrance. “As if you were ever anybody’s but mine. You’d come crawling back to me, baby, because it was always meant to be us. He could never satisfy you.”

His words might alarm you or have you asking questions if he hadn’t pushed his fingers into you and begun curling them with strong, pointed presses, pulling soft mewls and hums from you until he finds a spot that twists up your insides. Even through the palm you press over your mouth, your moans come out more like wavering grunts and croaks. Your thighs quiver and twitch, threatening to snap closed against your own will with each. Only your feet stay planted to the mattress. Like a cone of soft serve under the sun’s blistering attention, you melt down him. Just his frame keeps you upright.

“Right there, huh?” he says. The smirk on his mouth filters his words into something taunting. “That’s where you like it.” It’s like he’s learning your body step by step, fulfilling all the questions he’d been forced to only guess at before this.

“Uh-huh.” It comes out whiny and cracks in the middle, but you can’t find even an ounce of you to care right now. If this moment had been a long spiral, a fall from grace, down into a dark pit of forgotten inhibitions, you’ve just hit the bottom. Cheeks blazing cherry blossom pink and with your fingers curling into his pant leg, you don’t doubt that you are a picturesque mess. The kind of mess that’s beautiful because it’s dirty. Your teeth are not gentle on your plush bottom lip. It stings, tugged back and bitten and still a bit swollen with kisses. Perhaps you taste the tang of metal on it, but you pay it no mind.

Kai redoubles his efforts. Now that he knows exactly how to play you, he’s fucking you on his fingers without mercy. The sounds coming from your cunt were wet, but now they’re different— nasty squelching. The only noises coupling with your pathetic keening. Forget anchoring yourself on his thigh, forget muffling your sounds. Instead, your hands fly to encircle his flexing forearm. Under your nails, angry red crescents dig into the muscle there. What had been a languid, building pleasure suddenly becomes everything. Your breaths run away from you, and you chase them frantically. Deep down in your core, the muscles spasm and rage against his fingers. “H—oh god,” you groan. Even the muscles in your thighs and tummy tighten up.

“So whiny...” Kai mumbles, voice taut with the effort of eroding you down into pure, blinding-white pleasure.

And then, in a swoop of mercy, your belly tightens. You hover here, on the precipice of something so consuming and voracious that your muscles and bones reject it, and yet your heart sings. Your eyes and cheeks and lungs and belly burn, the flame charring the edges of you in a beckon. You answer its call. Kai doesn’t mind the snapping of your legs shut around his arm, nor does your bucking or shaking deter him. He just holds you through it, arm like a metal bar around your waist. He’s everywhere, in this moment—the smell of him, leather and utterly familiar, his mouth dusting hot kisses over your skin, his fingers guiding you through orgasm. Where you’d gone silent in the initial crash of it, you devolve into mewls and grunts as you come down.

He holds you even as you slump against him boneless. Afterglow simmers in your veins and has your brain all lethargic and lazy. Neither of you speak for a while, your pulse thumping a rhythm. His breaths rise and fall against you; it grounds you in this moment where you feel all spacey and gone. You become aware again of how disgustingly sweltering it is in his room, your skin sheened.

That brainless bliss only lasts you for so long, though. When rational mind returns to you, no matter how you wish it wouldn’t, you’re hit in the chest with regret so hard it knocks the wind out of you.

How will anything ever be the same after what you’d just done? Stricken still by the thought, you barely register him pulling his fingers out of you. After all your worrying about making sure no wedge comes between you two, look what you’ve gone and done. No; nothing ever will be the same again.

⚝⭒

A couple of weeks ago, you ruined the one friendship you were supposed to have forever. It presses down heavy one you while you sit sprawled out on Yeonjun’s couch, his arm around your shoulder. His phone casts a glow over his features with all the lights out.

It doesn’t smell like home. He, pressed against your side, doesn’t smell like home.

Some stupid movie that he’d picked out, yet somehow you’ve ended up the only one still watching it, weaves a hum into the quiet of his apartment. Tangy hurt wells up in your throat. Even the moments when you and Kai would sit in mutual silence on your phones never felt like this. This is different.

You haven’t seen Kai since that night. He’s been busy getting ready to move out, and you’ve been here most days. How fast all of it had changed. You wish you’d feel whiplashed, left empty, by the drifting that you’d been so terrified of. But you don’t. It’s just been you, locked on land, watching him being taken away by the ocean’s tide with no way to change its course. You tried and screamed to call him back, but now your voice has gone hoarse.

And instead of watching him go, you choose to look elsewhere. It’s all you can do to protect yourself from the hurt.

“Hey,” Yeonjun says, finally addressing you rather than whoever’s he’s got in his phone. “Did you bring anything to change into?”

“I brought stuff to sleep in,” you say, eyeing him. You know that’s not why he’s asking. If it came down to it, you could just steal something from him and pull it on. He means going out clothes. Your jaw tightens. “But nothing nice. Why?”

He stretches his arms behind his head in a flaunt of long arms and tanned muscle. Hours spent at the gym lent him those; you appreciate the look of it with a watering mouth. Kai had earned his build by hours spent outside with your dad, because his own could care less, helping him fix up cars and vehicles of all ridiculous sorts. You remember when Kai had first gotten his truck—junk on wheels, honestly—he’d spent so much of summer out there getting it running. And, well... the sun-kissed bronze of his skin and frame that came with it, you had no qualms with.

But those memories only sit heavy in your chest as you’re sat here beside Yeonjun. You banish them elsewhere; you need to let him drift off. If you can’t have each other, and your feelings won’t permit just being friends, then you have to. You want him to do amazing things, and you fear that it’s your presence in his life that will interrupt that. As much as your feelings are real, they are selfish. You, your unsure direction and all your dead weight, should let him go. Because you love him.

“The guys want to come over,” he tells you, pushing off from the couch. “You should probably into change into something less showy.”

Less showy. Your mouth drops into a scoff of disbelief, looking down. A pair of shorts and a shirt, showy? You have to laugh, or else you’ll succumb to the strange embarrassment crawling at the back of your skull. What’s he trying to say? Is that what he thinks of you? “What’s that supposed to mean?” you say, face tilted up to him in a twist of distaste. “I’m wearing something comfy.”

He shrugs, hands shoved into the pockets of his black sweats. “Don’t want to give them the wrong idea about you, that’s all, baby. They’re guys; I just want to protect you.”

“No,” you say, the word falling out in a barked laugh. “Why would you even be bringing over dudes that you think will look at me like that? Why are you even friends with people that you think are gonna make moves on your girlfriend?” He holds a hand out to you, but your hands stay right where they are: crossed solidly over your chest.

Throwing that hand up in audacious exasperation, he gives you a look that makes you feel small and petulant—like you’re throwing an overblown fit. And, maybe you are. You should probably just do it; him seeing you as some overbearing or high maintenance girl has that embarrassment flaring like wildfire that’s found dry brush. “C’mon, baby,” he says, a lazy smile on his mouth that gets under your skin. “Let’s just have an easy night. Don’t make it a big deal.”

Let’s just have an easy night. As if you’re the one ruining the night. Something snarky tries to seize your tongue, but you hold it down. “I thought it would be just us. We wanted to watch the movie together, Yeonjun. Can’t you wait to hang out with your friends? Let’s enjoy our time together; you’ve got your shift tomorrow.”

“My fucking god,” he groans, running a hand through his hair furiously. “You’re needy, you know that? The neediest I’ve ever had to put up with. I don’t put up with needy, baby. Can’t you just chill out a little? My last didn’t mind when I’d have friends over.”

Your eyes burn. Your cheeks burn. He’d been with plenty of other girls before you; that, you’re well aware of. It’s been a corrosive source of self-doubt for you. You don’t want that title: the neediest he’s ever had. Don’t want him to think of you as some prude that won’t let him have fun. Just... hearing him bring up the other girls he’d been with before you stings and leaves welts no different from a slap in the face. Feelings of inadequacy shackle you and have you saying, “Fine. I’m gonna borrow some of your clothes.”

Heavy resentment blooms on your skin where he bends down and presses kisses to your cheek, and then mouth, and then down your neck. “Thank you, baby.”

And, where those ugly, wilted flowers of it bloom, you hear echoes of something. Something that tells you that Kai wouldn’t treat you like this. But you’ve made your bed, decided to do it yourself, and now you’ve got to lay on it.

⚝⭒

The frat parties are the worst kind of social outing that Yeonjun insists upon. The smaller kinds, more intimate gathering with just his closer friends, you tolerate much easier. You’re not fond of the circles he chooses. Breathing in thick, smoked-out air surrounded by alcohol-coated breaths is not your type of fun night. Somehow, you end up doing that more than date nights. But that’s better than being here. The base rumbles up through your feet and makes your stomach sick, and it reeks of grinding bodies and body odor, and condensation coats your fingers from the red solo cup as full as when you’d first gotten it.

But, still, you come along. Not every time, but when you don’t, you lay in his bed sickening yourself with images of what he might be doing here. How pathetic is it to attend parties with your boyfriend because you fear that otherwise, he might stick his tongue down the throats of other girls?

You’re looking for him right now, awkward and left alone. He’d promised to stick around; you had begged him to. That was pathetic, too. You know that you put up with too much. If he loved you, or honestly even liked you, you two would be in the thick of the throngs dancing or off somewhere talking with others. Together. The frantic skimming and weeding of your eyes through the blur of faces is not right. That’s not how he should make you feel. It’s not how Kai would make you feel.

Well, Kai would never have you here in the first place.

Venturing out from your little corner, you sift between the bodies of people have a hell of a lot better time than you. Drunken, some you bounce off of like bumper carts. You press your palm over the round face of your cup to spare the floor from spillage threatening to pour over the lip. It’s not like a splash from yours would matter much, though. The linoleum has already been made a fetor mess of dirt off shoes and the sticky sugar of liquor. Your shoes peel from it as you walk. God, what would your parents think of you being here?

You peek around corners and eye big groups. He’s not in the kitchen when you look there, either. Your stomach feels sick in a knowing way—a gut feeling that doesn’t justify anger or tears just yet, but you know. Right in the center of your chest, you know.

It’s in some room that you find him. Sat on the floor along with a few faces you don’t know, he pulls from his bottle. And on his shoulder, he lets a girl with shining curls and pink cheeks rest her head. At your busting in on the intimate gathering, Yeonjun’s eyes slide to you. Recognition flashes over them and wars with bleary drunkenness.

“Hey, baby,” he says. Their gazes all fall on you, but you can hardly see them through blurry eyes.

The girl lifts her head from his shoulder. She’d caught the memo.

“I think I’m gonna go.” You make it sound resigned, try to not let them see your shame, but your voice betrays you and crackles. Maybe it’s better to pretend it doesn’t feel like you’ve just been kicked in the stomach and left to reel against the force, but you can’t. You’re nowhere near shocked, nowhere near blindsided, but still you hurt.

He follows you down the hall. “What’s your problem?” he says, the few, plain words mending and waving into a slurring.

You’ve got one goal: get to the front door, away from the shitty music and him. His words, sharpened, fall off your skin despite his efforts. What good would fighting do you, anyway? It was always going to end up this way. This is just who he is, and he doesn’t give two shits enough about you to want to change that.

“Baby, seriously? That made you this mad? I didn’t even fucking do anything. Stop being insecure,” he says. At the gritting of your teeth, he sees an opportunity and pounces on it. “You don’t need to be jealous. I don’t do jealous shit. We can dance, or something. Shit, I don’t know what you want! Just stop throwing a fit.”

Didn’t do anything? You have to laugh. Maybe you didn’t walk in on him fucking someone else, but that’s not what this is about. Not even a little bit. You’ve checked out, and the fact that he thinks he can make you believe that it’s your fault this time only drives the killing stake in harder.

Maybe you’re bitter. It claws at your insides—turns your face hot and screams in your face that you’ve been used. But beside it sits a sadness. Not the slow kind, but the quick sadness of hurt. Why hadn’t you been good enough for him to love you? To like you? You’d left behind Kai and rested your new life on Yeonjun’s shoulders. You’d wanted so badly for his approval, or for him to want you. You did your best to try and make this work out because you needed it to. You needed so desperately proof that you could fall in love with somebody else. But your best was not what Yeonjun was interested in.

Pins and needles prick your skin as you step outside, like jumping into an ice bath. It shocks you out of dizziness. Words surge up and out in a flash flood like hard reality. You spin on him. “Jealous?” you say, choking out a scathing laugh. “The last thing I’d ever let myself suffer over you is jealousy. Get over yourself. I’m going, stay here if you want. I don’t care.”

“How are you gonna do that, huh?” he says. The flickering yellow of the porchlight paints his features. The shadow of something fluttering around it cuts dark spots in the light, and then a small little moth comes down and jumps around in his face. He waves it off. “Gonna have bitch boy come pick you up? You can’t leech off him forever; he’s gonna get sick of picking up another man’s girlfriend.” It seems like you walking in on that had sobered him up, but his breath still curls out onto your face with the reek of alcohol. “It’s not a big deal. You’re making this a bigger deal than it has to be. Do you not trust me?”

“You are such a piece of shit,” you grit out. “I don’t know what I was thinking. Ever. I don’t know how I let this go on for so long.” You don’t like him having Kai in his mouth, don’t like him trying to act like you’re conflating things, and especially don’t like that face he’s making. As if you’re acting crazy and overblown. “No, I don’t trust you. You didn’t fuck her, but come on, Yeonjun. Seriously? You think I’m stupid, and I’m sick of it. You thought this would be easy because I didn’t have the experience you have, but I’m sorry. I don’t like being walked over.”

“If you’re gonna be so goddamn jealous, then maybe we aren’t gonna work,” he says.

That moth, floating light in the air, is right back in his face. Yeonjun takes two hands and smashes it between a clap of his hands. He shakes its flattened, broken body off his hand. Looking down at it laying there on top of dirt-caked concrete, you get this... feeling. A tickling around your person.

“See if I care,” you snap, throat aching against the onslaught of emotion and held back tears.

⚝⭒

Rivulets of raindrops dilute the tears on your cheeks. Your hair plasters to your face and your clothes to your body.

For a week, you’d went about it all as if it hadn’t happened. And then you came here.

It’d not been this rainy when you first got down to the creek—just a gentle trickle, really. You hadn’t been crying then, either. But, watching the water work at babbling over stone, you let yourself feel it. Here, where you’d had so many good memories. You’ve gone and tainted it, now. But for whatever reason, you’d just wanted to be here. Arms curled around yourself and fingers digging into drenched sleeves, you don’t wipe away the tears or cover the sounds of your crying. You let the stream hear it; it’ll sweep it right up and down the way. Somewhere far off, where you don’t have to feel it anymore.

You realize that, usually, you’d be over at Kai’s right now. The fact that his room was not the first place you thought you could go to anymore is a punch to the gut. You drop your face into your hands and cry harder. Really, you’ve got to stop doing that to yourself. Thinking of sad things—putting your hurt under the microscope to see it closer. It’d be easier to just fold it up and tell yourself that it’ll pass, and that relationships end all the time.

It’s not him that you cry over. Well, maybe some of it is. Rather, it’s that you have absolutely no idea where you’re going. Where you are. Finally, you’d built yourself a raft to get off the shore and go out to sea, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, and it’s breaking apart right beneath you. And, stranded and alone in the water, you’ve got no way to get back to shore to build yourself another raft. You’re stranded, and the scariest bit is that you’re doing it all alone. You weren’t supposed to do this alone. You two made promises back then.

You suppose that a promise is one of those things you were supposed to leave faith in back on shore.

The raindrops are heavy over you. The fall of it roars against the ground, a torrent downpour. It’s not coupled with whipping wind or flashes of lightning—just straight, still falling. It’s a somber feeling no different from the gnawing in your chest.

Like chimes, there’s a distant, gentle sound. Maybe water falling over creek rock, but it’s more like suggestion. A sweet sound that you shouldn’t even be able to hear over the rest of it, it’s as if it’s right in your ear. A whisper.

You fix your blurry eyes with a wet sleeve. Rain falls right back into its place, but you see it: a silvery, whimsy haze. And the moths. They jump and call you, this time. Their glow bounces off the rainy mist against the grey of night’s arrival. Then, all you can hear is the whispering. Where you stand frozen, your feet beg to move. To follow them.

So you do.

Their entourage of moondust trails them where they go, wrapping you up and weaving between raindrop and space. You don’t worry where they’ll take you, or even try to wrap your head around this happening again. You just follow, mind glossed over and entranced with how beautiful it is. When you’d seen them before, it’d made you uneasy. Mostly because it looked so unearthly and unbelievable. But this time you just follow.

A far-off voice, one oh-so-familiar, peaks through the haze. It’s not enough to stop you, but then you hear it again, louder and closer.

You blink a few times. Once to break away the fog, and then twice to focus your eyes on Kai stood in front of you. His hair lays in wet spikes over his eyes and beads of rain trace the planes of his face. He’s as soaked as you.

“Kai?” you say. Looking around you, you’ve ended up somewhere in the field between your houses and the creek. But you’ve got no recollection of walking here. Whatever that mist is, sentient or not, had swept you here.

His voice is strained, but you appreciate hearing it. “Break up with him,” he tells you.

In his eyes, as you search them, there’s stardust glowing like reflection. Your face twists up. “What?” you say, breath a puff of smoke ahead of you. Summer had come and gotten away from you so fast, and now it’s gone all cold again.

“Break up with him,” he echos, face solemn. He looks ruffled.

“Why?” you ask, “And why are you out here?”

“Because I’m moving out today, and I think I deserve to at least see you before I go.” His eyes look over you. “And... your dad said you went down to the creek.”

He’s moving out today, and you had no idea. And really, it’s your fault. You’d driven that wedge between the two of you. “I did break up with him.”

Downpour fills his quiet for a few moments, his face swirling with emotion like the clouds above you. He nods. “Good.”

There are a few more long minutes between you; just you two searching each other's faces, antsy to say so much that it bunches up in your chests and stalls. It’s what a summer of longing does to you. Even with Yeonjun, even trying to slowly chip away the stitching that had connected the two of you at the hip, you were helpless to stop the gnawing of the love you bear for him. Even just seeing him now, you feel those threads mending back up. God, why does it have to be so hard?

He just looks at you. For a few beats, he just looks at you. There are so many questions in his eyes. They flit across and turn over, but all he settles on is, “Why?”

There’s so much you want to tell him. Words pile up to the top, some threatening to spill over. But you know that if you tell him some of it, just to make up for all the time you’d missed out on together, it’ll all come crashing out. And you don’t think you want him to know just how much you accepted, the way you let yourself get treated. So, you shake your head and say, “It doesn’t matter.”

Kai looks like he wants to push that issue, but whatever look he finds on your face deters him. “Come with me,” he pleads. “I want you to come with me.”

Your throat tightens. Curling your arms around yourself harder, the rain only coming down on you harder, you say, “Kai, I want to. I want to. I just... I don’t want to freeload off you, because you’re doing great things, and I’m just...” Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, but they’re already as soaked as the rest of you. “I’m just going nowhere. And I don’t want to be a burden, or ever be the reason that you can’t do what you dream of. If staying here means that you become everything that you’re destined to do, then I’m happy with that, Kai. I am.”

He shakes his head, stumbling toward you. “No, no you don’t get it,” he says, frantically taking your shoulders into big hands. Under his touch, every taut muscle goes slack. You melt. “You don’t get it. You are the music. Every single song is about you. Every single fucking song is about you. I want you to come with me, please. I love you, I have always loved you, and I will always love you, and I thought you’d loved me too, and I don’t want to do this alone. I can’t do it alone.”

He loves you. Kai loves you. The enormity of it rumbles the ground where you stand on legs you fear might just give in. You flex your fingers to combat the tears pricking your eyes. It doesn’t work; they brim and well up, spilling down over your cheeks. “What?” you say, voice softly breaking. “Kai, I didn’t...”

“And just when I thought I finally had you, you left me,” he says, throwing a hand up beside him in a big gesture. “You left me! I woke up thinking you’d be there, and that maybe you loved me too, and you had left me. And then you threw me away for some piece of shit, and you stopped coming around.” His chest heaves for breaths.

Your face contorts. That night, the one where you two had slipped up, you’d fallen asleep curled up against his chest on undiluted contentment. When you woke up, you had panicked. You thought he’d wake up and pretend it hadn’t happened, or he’d be uncomfortable, or even be disgusted and regretting. You couldn’t handle that, so you slipped out before he woke up. It’d been an attempt to protect your tender heart, but looking at the twitching of his lip now, you begin to think it’s the most selfish thing you’ve ever done. He thinks you used him and left him. Your stomach twists. Voice thick, you say, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you, Kai. I thought you didn’t... I thought you didn’t see me that way. I was scared. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Brows knitted together, he says, “Thought I didn’t love you?” His hand cups your cheek, warm against the soft frozen skin he finds there. “I’ve... I’ve dreamed of you almost every night of my life. In my sleep, I see you, and you’re happy and glowing, and that damn... mist is all around you. I couldn’t get away from you even in my sleep.”

Darting between his eyes, soft and reflecting your face back to you, it’s hard to breathe. Kai’s dreamt of you; he’s as sickly in love with you as you are him. Thunder claps, and the ground shakes, and the heavens open up above you, the trumpets belt, and you two are in love. Somewhere deep in your center, you feel it—your soul nodding yes.

The mist. You know exactly what he’s talking about. “I saw it. That stuff, those moths. The stuff we saw back then.”

“I did too,” he says, wet spikes of hair bouncing with a nod. “Not that long ago. It was the first time I saw it out of a dream since that day.”

Back then, you two had only budding, innocent love for each other. Things hadn’t become mangled and lost to confused hearts or expectations. When they’d appeared to you, you hadn’t needed it. This time, you’d followed it. And it had led you here—somehow had led you right to the very spot you needed to so that every last piece might fall into place. For this moment to happen. You know why it did.

“I’ll go with you, Kai. I’ll go wherever you go; I love you. I’ve loved you since forever,” you say, each and every word massive and lovely on your tongue. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier.”

So unlike the last times your mouth had met, he brings his mouth to yours with a dazzling clarity. No longer is it confused kisses; he locks his lips against yours with the urgency of so many years being unable to. Kai’s hands cradle your wet cheeks, hold you so tenderly into his kiss. His touch grounds you, makes the moment real. You melt into him—your fingers curled into his shirt as if holding him there so that he won’t disappear like something of an incorporeal dream. He sighs through his nose, kissing you harder. Even if it all were fake and this was nothing more than a feverish figment of your imagination, you think you could die happy just knowing this once.

But it is utterly real, and utterly yours. You kiss him harder, too.

When your lungs start to burn and plead for breath, you two pull away from each other. Your eyes flutter open to capture his. Warm and brown and the same ones you’ve stared into so many times before, but not like this, you sink into them. He runs his thumb over your cheek as he sinks into yours. His tongue darts out to lick lips painted with you. In the inches between you, space no longer feels heavy or charged with grievances. Every last unsaid thing had been answered.

“I have my stuff up in the truck,” he says, breaths soft. Brown eyes dart around your face. “I’ll help you add your stuff to it.”

You shudder out a breath. Add your stuff to it. A nervous energy settles down over you, but it doesn’t seem so bad if you’re doing it with him. Together.

“Okay,” you whisper, a balmy secret just like the ones you used to share in small, giggly voices so many years ago. “Okay.”

⚝⭒

Shivers seize you like jittering bones, all wrapped up in a blanket. The velour cushion seats beneath you have soaked up water and become damp, but Kai’s got the heater blasting. You wind around back roads, headlights illuminating the way ahead of you. Stray droplets whip in them, but nothing much. Isn’t it funny how the rain had just stopped like that? That’s just how the weather is, out here. You wonder how the weather might act wherever you’re headed.

Your teeth chatter as if your jaw had its own will. The two of you had the windows down thinking that the wind might dry you off, but all it’s done is lap at your bitten cheeks. You reach down for the handle to crank it up. You’ve got a long drive ahead of you—either you’ll eventually dry off, or you can pull off at a rest area to change in a bathroom. The wet clothes are really not helping.

With an arm up on the steering wheel, Kai turns his attention on you. You know that smile. “Cold?” he asks, eyes darting between your face and the road. With the hand he’s not got working the steering wheel, he runs fingers over your thigh. Soft, gentle massages, yes. The number it does on your core is absurd. Each mindless digging into your thighs and brush of his thumb, sparks sputter there. You’ve sat here, right in his passenger seat, so many times before. Day trips up to the lake, the one he’d joined your family camping at for so many summers, all the times he’d driven you to school in this truck, and even just a quick run down to a convenience store for a late-night snack. You’d deemed it your seat. But never once had you sat in it like this. Your heart does a flip. All those times you’d wish he’d reach over and do just this—a small gesture that would’ve been so big then. And it’s your reality, now.

“Freezing,” you say. A brush of his fingers nearer the apex of your thighs sends you pressing them together and shifting in your seat. “But not everybody runs as hot as you, though, so.”

His eyes catch the movement in just the split second he looked over to you. “Huh,” he says. He turns to look at you, his gaze flickering with something anew. Something that you’d only ever seen once before. “Is that it?”

It’s hard to swallow. His fingers brush higher, and higher, feather-dustings of calloused fingertips that sends tingles shooting up your spine at the slightest suggestion of where he’s headed. “Yes,” you say, feigning indignance to cover the shiver that threatens to overtake you. When his fingertips dance at the waistband of your bottoms, it does so anyway. “Kai,” you say, blood hot in your veins. “You’re...driving.”

His eyebrows pinch into a taunting furrow. “I am,” he says, nodding. “Don’t worry about it, baby. I’ve got us.”

And he does; fingers slipping under the band of both your bottoms and your panties, he doesn’t even tear his eyes off the road. He’d driven these roads so much, you think he might be able to do it asleep. Even drawing a mewl from you with a brush over your clit, he doesn’t look away more than a quick glimpse at your pinkened cheeks.

Two fingers dragging up your folds, right over the source of the mess. “You get excited so easily, huh?” he hums. “You like it when I play with you.”

When he presses those fingers at your entrance, you can’t help but be taken back to that night. It echoes and reverberates through you. Long fingers, strong and punctual brushes against the sweet spot—he was criminally good with his fingers. Playing guitar did more for him than just music. He seemed to know exactly how to utilize those roughened fingers and trained flicks. Your muscles flicker as he abandons your hole for more brushes at your bud.

Those teasing, sly touches turn to something more serious. His fingers roll over your clit, slow but enough to have you sighing and rolling your hips against the seat belt. But last time had gone just like this, him touching you and receiving nothing. He should feel good, too. “Shouldn’t you pull over?” you sigh, muscles taut. Your breaths come out shuddering and half-controlled, interrupted by the tightness that each delicious swirl provokes. The door takes the brunt of your grip, white-knuckling the interior.

He laughs, a husky sound that is tinder to fire. He knows what you mean. “Maybe,” he says. “But I think I’m enjoying this plenty. I think I want to see you cum on my fingers again.”

Fingers pinching and flicking faster, you grow breathy and whiny, hips rolling against the seatbelt and back into the seat. Your muscles, all the way down your thighs and deep in your belly, jump and twitch each time his fingers run over your clit in just the right spot—that tender spot that’s so good that it teeters on overwhelming. The kind that makes you hiss and then want more. “Shit, Kai,” you whine. “Right—there, keep going."

He doesn’t answer with any teasing words. No, he just doubles down right at that angle and pressure, leaned back into his seat and driving as if he wasn’t fingers-deep in your panties right now. His sculpted profile at total ease—it does something for you. A delicious tightness curls its fingers over your center, promising a sugary ecstasy that you can’t help but chase. Bucking into his hands as best you can, you go quiet. Right there—right there, you feel it. The cusp. Your fingers brush over it, clenching around nothing and squeezing your thighs tight around him. Every last drop of blood in your body reaches for it, singing and dancing through your veins and making you dizzy.

And then he stops. Your mouth drops open, whiplashed and helpless to its slipping away from you. You whittle your gaze into something sharp and turn to him. “What—why?” you complain. The tide slips further and further and further back, but you still taste sea salt on your tongue. Frustration sets in its place as you feel it go. Seriously, you’d been right there. “You’re so mean.”

He slows and then with the clicking of the turn signal, he’s off the road and pulling the truck into park on a little secluded side road. Where the headlights pierce the pitch black, nothing but gravel and field surrounds you. He doesn’t kill the engine, instead pulling his hand free from you.

Your heart, still stuttering with your lost orgasm, kicks back to life as he smears your slick over your mouth, dragging it over your lips and then taking his thumb to run it right over the plush of your mouth. “Am I?” he says, fingers taking your chin to meet your eyes with his. Endless hunger, pupils so blown that his eyes look black, pins you. “I don’t think you’ve seen mean yet, baby.”

Darting your tongue out to clean your lips, you look at him through your eyelashes. “Show it to me, then.”

Something dark passes over his face. It has your skeleton jumping out of your body. Then, he says, “Is that what you want? You want mean?”

Brain gone to mush that can only really think about him touching you, a slow nod is all you can manage.

The engine’s hum prevails for some long, thick seconds. And then, he tilts his head in a gesture. “Get in the back.”

Holy shit. You want to sit there frozen in an overwhelming sort of excitement, but his seatbelt clicks undone and you’re set into motion. In a flurry of giggles and clumsy limbs, you climb up over the center console and into the backseat. He slips out of the front seat, not bothering to even kill the engine.

The door beside you opens in a swirl of cold wind. In nothing more than a blink, a strong hand has both your wrists pinned to the cushions and your back flush against it. Nose-to-nose, his breath hot over your face. “I’ve got plenty of ideas as to how I can warm you up.”

You appreciate each other’s faces for a beat more, you looking up at him big-eyed and waiting. Kai breaks the moment to attack your neck in a procession of bites and kisses. Your mouth falls into a silent sound.

“You know,” he says, free hand working your pants off. His eyes are trained on you, though. “I thought about doing this to you all summer. Touching you again.” He moves on to your top, pushing the fabric up until your chest is freed, clad in soft cotton. He eats the sight up. You want to reach down and cup the back of his head or feel his hair between your fingers as he presses his mouth against the soft beginning of your cleavage, but he’s got your wrists firmly planted. So much so, that you wonder exactly how he’s got you so secure with just one hand. Kai is strong, but maybe you hadn’t seen just how strong. Your skin aches under the purple bites he decorates you in. The sight of him—face in your chest and marking you up so lazily—has your teeth abusing your bottom lip. Whatever sounds you might make otherwise would be embarrassing. Kai lifts his eyes to you. “And I think you thought of me, too. Didn’t you?”

“Oh, god, yes,” you say, writhing beneath him. He’s going so slow. You want him all over you. “So much.”

He likes that. He takes your pebbled nipple into his mouth through the fabric. Soft grazes of teeth and sucks, you’re burning all over. When he pulls back, he’s left you dark wet patches when the bra had only just dried against your body heat. “Good,” he rasps, taking his big hands demanding and hungry over your torso. They swallow your frame up, soothing skin but lighting it aflame all the same. “Good girl.”

You never thought just words could unravel you, but those did the job. Not a gasp, nor a sucking in of breath—no, you go silent and brainless, fumbling for rational thought.

The dropping of your jaw has Kai delighted. “You’re so pretty,” he says. In a swift and powerful hoist, he’s tugging you down the cushions toward him with greedy fingers. He’s got your thighs pressed up to your chest. You’re bent right in half.

Out of breath, you huff out, “You too.”

A quick laugh falls from his mouth, lips pulled into a smug tilt. He nips at your calf up by his face. “So sweet, it almost makes me feel bad for what I’m about to do to you.” Reaching down for your panties, he pulls back on the suffocating press for only enough time to drag them up your legs. Those get discarded somewhere on the floor. Who cares about that right now, though? All you can register is the metallic clinking of his belt being undone. It’s got your nervous system twisting up.

And, those words. Electricity shoots bolts of pure, sizzling revery into your core. What I’m about to do to you. You imagine a great deal of things that he might mean, but still, you think that none could hold a candle against the promise his voice held in saying it.

Kai presses his body to your thighs and hooks your calves over his shoulders, and it all becomes real. The press of his heavy cock to your folds, the digging of his fingers into your outer thighs, his pretty eyes sparkling with something feral. As real as it gets—more real than anything you’ve ever felt in the entirety of your life. Your hands find perch flattened to his broad chest.

The position leaving you two no option but to look right into each other, he holds your gaze and begins slow drags of his hot length up and down your slit. Tantalizing, awful, awful drags. When his tip nudges your eager clit, you jolt. And then he does it again. And again.

“Kai,” you mewl. A press against your hole has you hopeful, and he lingers there for a moment, but doesn’t give it to you. Can’t he just fuck you? You’ve never been more pitifully in need of something in your life.

“Shh.” His ruts get more daring, smearing your slick up onto your belly. “Take it.”

You wiggle your toes in the air and make passes at arching yourself into him in search of better friction. He’s got you pressed so suffocatingly into the seat that it does absolutely nothing for you. In fact, he holds your harder and changes tack so that your thighs press together. At the very apex of them, his weeping cock slips through the seam.

Pressing his cheek into your calf, he watches you. Every gasp and shaky inhale, he watches. It spurs his rutting on, sticky sounds and pants eating up the air. Your nails claw at his hands as, finally, a knot tightens in your core.

“Yes, please,” you breathe. He fucks your thighs harder. Faster. Every nudge at your clit and hole becomes euphoric. “Kai, baby—I’m gonna—”

Just as furiously easy as last time, he rips it all away from you. The rushing away of the buzzing and promise of shaking thighs—he takes it from you again. It brings prickling tears to your eyes. “Kai?” you hiss. “Again?”

His eyes aren’t playful. He pulls your calves back over his shoulders, handling your hips into a better position to press his cock right at your entrance as if you weigh nothing. Face utterly straight, he says, “I don’t think you deserve it, do you? Not after what you did with Yeonjun.”

A swallow goes down your throat hard. He presses himself just a bit harder into you. Not in yet, but right there.

When he does begin sliding in, the stretch of it... You cling to him and squirm between him and the warm cushions behind you. Each inch is a heady feeling, all the way up to the hilt of him. He shudders a controlled breath. “You’re so fucking tight, though,” he grits out. “Did he not fuck you right?”

Slaps of skin bounce off the car interior and between your bodies. He starts off at a brutal pace; you know it’s meant to make your brain go foggy. Squeezing your eyes closed, you manage, “I... didn’t fuck him.” It comes out strangled, voice bouncing as he fucks you into the car seat.

Thumb tugging your bottom lip down and then dipping into your mouth, he watches the show of your ecstasy down to every last detail. “Yeah?” he says, voice shaking and almost desperate. “Always thinking of me, huh? Such a good little princess. You know exactly where your heart belongs.”

You want to answer him, even just with a whine or moan. You try to. But with his thumb pressing down on your tongue, enough to pin it to the floor of your mouth, it’s not gonna happen. He tastes salty in your mouth.

His truck consists of his grunts and whines, and your taut groans for some moments that seem to stretch forever. The planes of his groin grind against your clit when he delivers occasional pointed rolls, but mostly it’s just an animalistic, feverish dancing of your two sweaty bodies, holds growing more frantic the closer you get.

Thumb wet with saliva; he frees your mouth. The hand trails slowly down your face and your chin, brushing feather touches, until he finds your neck.

Your eyes fly open, wide. He pressed his fingers into your neck—no real pressure yet, he looks at you through damp strands of dangling hair and says, “Want my fingers around your neck?” His thumb brushes over the buzzing pulse point there.

“Yes,” you grit out, body bouncing and back raw with friction against the coarse cushion’s surface. Your breath stutters, your mind stutters. Even your blinks stutter, eyelids too lazy to keep up. “Please.”

The pressure of his fingers there—it frightens you and has you tightening around him at the same time. But you would trust nobody more with your life than Kai.

He presses his cheek to your calf to indulge in the sight of you like this: underneath him, folded in two, nowhere to go but to take his pistoning hips, cheeks blazing, and his fingers pressed into your windpipe. If the way he becomes sloppier and more desperate in his tempo has anything to say for it, it does something for him.

“Gonna be my pretty little girlfriend, huh?” he says. His voice is tight—so is your belly. You’re both so close. Hopefully, this time he’ll let you cum. “Take you to every show; show you off to everybody. Fuck.”

Brain like static and swimming with a pinched flow of oxygen, you slur your words. “You’re—hah—gonna have other girls all over you.”

The taunting, split-second raise of his brows flips your belly. You tighten around him again. If he keeps hitting that spot, tip ramming into the soft spot deep inside you that he’d taken such delicate care of finding last time, you’re going to burst into sparkling flame and firework. He growls, “Well, I’ll just have to knock you up so that they know I’m yours, huh?”

Holy shit. You like the sound of that. Your nails dig into his wrist around your neck, but you cry out a pitchy, “Yes!”

“Oh, you like that?” Kai releases your throat to take both your hips. You gulp for air, finding nothing but the thick air of sex and humid breaths, at the opportunity. He’s ramming into you like he’s found a purpose. “Isn’t this the perfect position to do it? Get you pregnant?”

With every last bit of brain power you’ve got, teetering on the edge excruciatingly close to salvation, you groan a long, hoarse sound. “Fuck, yes! Please, Kai, inside—” A hot trail of tears roll down your temples.

It’s all he’s got to hear to still inside you. His growl rumbles deep in his chest, holding you in place and filling you with his hot cum deep in your cunt. That feeling, coupled with his short grinds against your clit as he fucks his seed deeper, takes your soul by sinful claws and crumbles it down into nothing. You burst into a shaking, whimpering peak, sucking your lips into your mouth to bare through the sheer twisting of your insides and the flame that consumes up your thighs and cunt.

He falls on you heavy, face in your neck. Warm kisses against your clammy skin meld with your slow floating down, the two of you a beautiful, nasty picture of fucked out. He stays right inside you—the absolute stillness of him, you think he has no plans of pulling out any time soon. His long fingers card through your sweaty locks of hair.

Finally, he presses himself off you. You get a glimpse of the window behind him—fogged up and filthy with your affairs. Anybody to see the truck from the outside would know exactly what went on inside, but right now, you don’t care. Not one bit. Your panted breaths drag in nothing but musk and thick, hot air. The drumbeat in your chest tells you that, despite how you feel ripped straight from your body, you are very much still alive. More alive than ever.

“Warm?” he says, pushing sticky hair off his forehead. He’s a mess, too. His hair is ruffled with your touch, his clothes rumpled the same, beads of sweat rolling down the planes of his cheeks and neck, and his eyes a lazy smolder. As much as he looks like sex personified, a soft smile twitches at his lips.

You snort. You can’t help but feel giddy, here with him. You’re with him. Nothing has ever felt more right. Unplugged when he pulls out of you, your mess trickles down onto the seat below you. “Yeah,” you say. “Very.”

Warm is not enough to begin to describe how you feel. In your ears, you hear whisperings. Soft and gentle. Perhaps it was divine intervention, or the fates lending you their word, or maybe just rational thought. It says:

Home. You are home.

✎୭ ashlynn's note how do we feel about this pair? i really didn't mean for this to get so long, but i ended up RLLY liking their chemistry. i had to do their story justice. also, i finished this with kai as a guitarist and then his drummer performance came out... hmm.

﹙🏷️ ﹚@lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @lickingan0rchid , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @prince-jjae , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

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flamingtouya · 10 months ago

Text

𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐩 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞) —

pairing: dabi + f!reader

word count: 4381

cw: getting to know each other (against your better intuition), flirting, bad flirting,some explicit language but nothing too bad, no quirk AU, dabi commits a crime or two

summary: In which Dabi meant to text Toga instead of a random stranger. But these things happen, and you were never one to shy away from troublesome men. This whole thing is told entirely through text messages.

a/n: check out my AO3 for different formatting! :)

Mar 02 10:07 PM

Unknown: Grab bleach while you’re out Unknown: And paper towels

You: who is this??

Unknown: So funny

You: u got the wrong number my guy

Unknown: Shit Unknown: You don’t happen to have some bleach at your disposal rn?

You: try the convenience store You: where’s the body at, anyways

Unknown: Ohara street by the fitness park, you should come check it out

You: sounds enticing You: i’ve always wanted to be on a true crime podcast

You: sort of expected myself to be the alive one though

Unknown: I was taught that women tend to be smart about stranger danger and stuff Unknown: You're out to prove me wrong

You: how’d you know i’m a woman? 🤨

Unknown: U sound cute Unknown: And men don’t listen to true crime

You: that’s so sexist You: and correct You: you'd do numbers on reddit

Mar 03 00:16 AM

You: hey don’t leave now

Mar 03 00:34 AM

Unknown: Had a body to take care of

You: you didn’t wait for me? :(

Unknown: … Unknown: Are u fr

You: ofc not You: i don’t hang out with edgelords

Unknown: Whatever u r probably boring anyways

You: entertaining enough for u to keep texting me

Unknown: We all have our moments of weakness

Mar 03 01:09 AM

Unknown: So wyd

You: you don’t have anybody else to bother?

Unknown: I do Unknown: I want to bother you tho

You: damn, what’d i do to deserve this

Unknown: Is that a complaint

You: i have uni tomorrow and ur buzzing keeps waking me up

Unknown: Mute your phone, stupid

You: can’t mute unknown numbers

Unknown: Save this one then Unknown: Or block me idc

You: what name should i put it under

Unknown: Dabi

You: lmao i knew you were an edgelord

Dabi: Stfu

You: good night to you too

Mar 03 07:58 AM

You: fuck

Mar 03 3:56 PM

Dabi: Did you miss me that bad

Mar 03 4:32 PM

You: i overslept and am blaming you entirely

Mar 03 5:19 PM

Dabi: Sucks to be a useful member to society

You: why what do you do

Dabi: I'm actually a bit of a part-time freelancer, you regular uni folk just wouldn't get it

You: freelancing around ohara at 1 in the morning sounds like the truly fulfilling purpose we all long for You: did you just get up

Dabi: Hey now Dabi: Yes Dabi: I’m still in bed technically, looking at the ceiling fan is so interesting when I don't want to move a muscle

You: you are everything I am jealous of

Dabi: I promise you it’s not that good

You: first time a guy’s been honest right away. i applaud u

Dabi: Omg no way

Mar 03 5:40 PM

You: no way what

Dabi: No way you said something witty

Dabi: Maybe you’re fun after all

You: i’ll have u know that deep down, i’m just a fragile being trying to make it thru this bitch of a world, running on fumes and caffeine all while chasing a childhood dream that i'll never be able to reach anyways because of my parents' expectations of me crushing my soul

Dabi: Damn, being vulnerable already

You: your turn

Dabi: I’m not sad. My life is great and my parents never expected anything of me

Dabi: That was a lie

You: so you’re a liar

Dabi: I suppose I might be

You: that counts as being vulnerable. i’m so proud of us. <3

Mar 03 9:12 PM

You: you probably have daddy issues

Mar 03 11:34 PM

Dabi: Mind your business

You: so i’m right

Dabi: Nosy sounds more like it

You: that’s a yes then

Dabi: When I tell you he SUCKS so bad

You: LMAO You: i’m guessing you don’t particularly like your family then

Dabi: It's not the type of stuff I'd tell anybody, especially not to some nosy individual whose number is one or two digits off

You: alright i’ll stop digging You: wait how old are you You: am i talking to some 50 y/o dude You: please no

Mar 04 00:02 AM

Dabi: Chill I’m 48

Mar 04 00:06 AM

You: say sike right now You: if u rly are then i’m half your age

Dabi: You thought Dabi: Are you actually 24 tho

You: give or take a few days lol

Dabi: When’s your birthday

You: do you want my social and tax numbers while we’re at it

Dabi: Stfu I wanna see if I’m older

You: 🤨 You: it’s at the end of this month

Dabi: Baby

You: are u flirting with me or insulting me

Dabi: Can’t I be doing both

Mar 04 06:30 AM

You: love me a guy who can multitask You: did you ever get your bleach and paper towels

Mar 04 11:11 AM

You: it’s 11:11 make a wish

Mar 04 2:02 PM

You: my wish is that you’d commit to a humane sleeping schedule

Mar 04 2:59 PM

Dabi: Anybody hear sum

You: i heard you’re a lazy bitch You: who doesn’t even do his own grocery shopping

Dabi: Maybe I do. Maybe I got the bleach all on my own like a big boy

You: X

Dabi: What's that mean

You: X for doubt You: it’s a meme

Dabi: Here I thought we were about to get spicy 😔

You: ew

Dabi: I was joking Dabi: …unless

You: has anybody ever told you that your flirting is immaculate

Mar 04 7:10 PM

Dabi: What do you study

You: are you trying to find out my location

Dabi: Let it be known I’m terrible at geography and if I wanted to stalk you I'd already be on it

You: that’s a consolation You: forensic science You: i actually can’t wait for the semester to be over bc my professor is one of the most annoying individuals i have ever had the displeasure of meeting

Dabi: So you do have bleach

You: never said i didn’t

Dabi: What do I have to do to make the list of annoying individuals. What's my current score

You: we haven’t met You: and i’m not sure if i’d survive u

Dabi: You have a point, I'm super nice tho

You: bet You: are you handsome You: asking for a friend You: the handsome ones are usually more annoying

Dabi: I'll say I’m frighteningly unique-looking

You: ...well played

Mar 04 10:09 PM

Dabi: My boss is making me do errand work in the morning like I'm some kind of functioning human being with principles Dabi: The next piercing I’m getting is a lobotomy

You: thought you were “freelancing”

Dabi: Freelancing only gets you so far. You'll understand when you're my age

You: can't imagine what the back pain must be like You: do you have a tongue piercing 👀

Dabi: Perhaps I do

You: u r so mysterious You: tell me an opinion

Dabi: Mint ice cream makes my teeth feel weird

You: that’s not an opinion

Dabi: Alright, more foods should have mint in them. And coriander. I want to make things inedible for 80% of the human population

You: nvm keep your opinions to yourself

Mar 05 02:26 AM

Dabi: I've gotta burn this number. Txt u in a few

Mar 05 05:16 AM

You: what are you, some kind of druglord This message could not be delivered.

You: I knew it This message could not be delivered.

Mar 0512:03 PM

You: ayo are you still there This message could not be delivered.

You: this is only funny if you come clean right now This message could not be delivered.

Mar 05 4:16 PM

You: "text you in a few" minutes? hours? days? This message could not be delivered.

You: just know that if it takes to long i'll forget about u This message could not be delivered.

You: won't even miss u This message could not be delivered.

Mar 06 09:00 AM

You: hello is this thing on This message could not be delivered.

Mar 07 3:15 PM

You: my social security number is 6007 0023 6799 0324 This message could not be delivered.

Mar 07 8:46 PM

You: eggs, vinegar, panko, sprite, sliced ham, parmesan, deodorant sencha if they have the good one ground pepper, lemon juice This message could not be delivered.

Mar 08 04:44 AM

Unknown: Am I still the man of ur dreams

You: I'm killing you You: violently

Unknown: I was hoping softly Unknown: With your song

You: are these messages being monitored You: am i a suspect

Unknown: If they were, could I write that I'm a ruthless baby killer anti-government fuck the police pro abortion the prime minister is an idiot bomb. bomb at the airport, terrorism, detonate Unknown: I guess now they are

Dabi was added as a contact.

You: just when i thought i'd have to find another witty asshole with a tongue piercing

Dabi: Aw you missed me Dabi: Does my tongue piercing make me hot be honest

You: what are my chances of getting an explanation for the past few days You: are u a murderer fr, that would be so cool You: i totally didn't use our abandoned chat as a grocery list btw

Dabi: The only thing I slay is pussy 😎

You: somehow i have doubts about that statement You: animal abuse is no joke

Dabi: I'm thinking of a number between 1 and 100, if you guess it correctly I'll tell u everything

You: 69

Mar 08 08:21 AM

Dabi: It was 72 Dabi: Because you were so close I'll give u one free question. But I want another one in return

You: you're a dirty little gremlin who plays dirty little games You:: do i get to ask a follow-up question

Dabi: No

You: in that case You: which of the following activities did you partake in? 1.) vandalism 2.) drug dealing 3.) drug trafficking 4.) violent crimes 5.) violent crimes that resulted in the death of one or more individuals 6.) assisting someone in a violent crime 7.) assisting someone in a non-violent crime 8.) theft 9.) robbery 10.) hate crimes against a minority 11.) politically motivated acts of defiance 12.) consumption of illegal substances 13.) running and/or hiding from law enforcement 14.) domestic terrorism 15.) human trafficking 16.) money laundering 17.) having a good time

Dabi: What the fuck Dabi: What is this, a multiple choice? Dabi: 1, 4, 6, 7, 8, 13 Dabi: My turn Dabi: What's your favourite food

You: fr, just like that You: that's your one question out of everything you could ask? am i really that boring

Dabi: I ask what I ask

You: spicy miso ramen with minced pork You: can we go back to the part where you ran from law enforcement

Dabi: Don't we all have demons that we run from Dabi: Mine are just a bit more persistent

Mar 08 10:52 AM

You: i want another question

Dabi: If you come up with one that's not related to the past few days, go ahead

You: fine i'll take it You: have you ever been caught and gotten in legal trouble for one of your… dubious activities

Dabi: Yeah

You: …and?

Dabi: That's another question. Gonna trade?

You: fine

Dabi: When I was 16, two Officers Of The Law 🐷 caught me dumpster diving behind a 7/11 Dabi: The dumpster diving wasn't the crime but because it was on private property they charged me with trespassing

You: damn, that's a lot of truth from u in just two sentences You: i wanna know ur tragic backstory so bad

Dabi: You could try to get me all sentimental for the 6 minutes after really good sex before the post nut clarity sets in

You: uh huh, taking notes You: anyway. you get one question. think hard

Dabi: If you couldn't have minced pork on your ramen, what would your second topping choice be

You: you're impossible

Mar 08 1:27 PM

You: tori karaage or extra ni-tamago i guess

Mar 08 2:23 PM

Dabi: Doesn't the Karaage lose its crispiness if it's in the broth for too long Dabi: I wouldn't know

You: please let me recommend you a good ramen place, you seem like you'd need it

Dabi: You have no idea. Take me out

You: like romantically? or are you asking me to murder you

Dabi: I love surprises

You: i just laughed out loud in the middle of my lecture

Mar 08 7:18 PM

Dabi: Need your forensic expertise for a sec

You: …oh no

Dabi: It's a purely hypothetical scenario

You: alright lay it on me big boy

Dabi: If a 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person were to climb over a 4,60 meter high fence that has electrical wiring on it Dabi: What would the most likely way for them to die be?

You: this is not forensic at all You: how strong is the electricity You: is there a way to shut it off You: where would you hold onto the fence You: can it be damaged

Dabi: Not me, a 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person

You: where would THE 176 CM TALL AND 67 KG HEAVY PERSON HOLD ONTO THE FENCE

Dabi: The only points that provide decent grip surface are the hooks holding the wires in place

You: so the most likely way to die would be electrocution You: will that be all

Dabi: How would one determine whether the electricity has been properly shut off Dabi: In the theoretical scenario that you couldn't get close enough to hear

You: the 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person should tap the wiring from the bottom with the back of their hand You: that way their fingers curl downwards and not around the wire You: so the person won't DIE from ELECTROCUTION

Mar 09 00:08 AM

Dabi: Excellent Dabi: Gonna do some field research Dabi: Will report back in maybe a day

Mar 09 08:01 AM

You: i'm gonna be so mad if you die before you've had decent karaage This message could not be delivered.

Mar 11 6:10 PM

Unknown: So it turns out that the person did not have to climb the fence after all. Pliers are such useful tools Unknown: Thanks for the electricity tip tho

Mar 11 6:39 PM

Dabi was added as a contact.

You: you're so hot when you're alive

Mar 11 9:14 PM

Dabi: Do u think I'm a catch 😏

You: judging by the way law enforcement is trying to get their hands on you, i'd say you're pretty slippery

Dabi: The slipperiest Dabi: You couldn't handle me

You: i'd trap you using cheese and a paper box You: put you in a jar and turn you into spicy miso broth

Dabi: Would you hold the jar tight at night and tell me everything's going to be okay

You: of course

Dabi: I'm liking this scenario

Mar 12 01:07 AM

Dabi: Ever thought about what Mint Karaage would taste like

Mar 12 01:23 AM

You: i need u

Dabi: Tell me more

You: to shut your mouth

Dabi: Are you trying to romance me

Mar 12 07:15 AM

You: i'm actually so upset right now You: can i vent

Mar 12 07:27 AM

Dabi: Listening Dabi: Am I gonna have to get the tissues out

You: you're not empathetic enough for that

Dabi: How would you know

You: call it a woman's intuition You: i just need someone to bother about my hot girl troubles

Dabi: Let's hear it girl Dabi: Men ain't shit 💅

You: damn right they aren't You: but unrelated to that You: i ran out of my medication a few days ago and thought if i stretched the remaining 3 pills to last me 6 days i'd be able to make it till the end of the week You: now my doctor's office is closed and i can't seem to get an appointment anywhere You: and i'm super jittery and on edge and almost had a panic attack just trying to make coffee

Dabi: What type of medication

You: Ativan You: it's prescription only

Dabi: Nothing is ever "prescription only"

You: i'm not gonna try some experimential backalley drug You: just feel like dying rn

Dabi: Who said anything about backalley? You actually came to the right guy for this Dabi: What's the name of the nearest druggery

You: ...fukuju pharmacy

Dabi: So I've been talking to a Setagaya girl

You: only moved here for uni, hate to disappoint if ur expecting a wealthy maiden

Mar 12 10:02 AM

Dabi: Don't you feel like getting a snack from the vending machine Dabi: Specifically the one next to the pharmacy Dabi: A bag of skittles sounds nice, doesn't it?

You: ? ? ?

Mar 12 10:34 AM

You: did you commit a crime for me You: how did you get your hands on actual fucking Ativan this fast

Dabi: I don't kiss and tell

You: did you follow me home You: is this how i die

Dabi: You make it so hard to be nice to you Dabi: What do you think I am, a creep

You: if you were here i'd suck you off so good rn

Dabi: Whore Dabi: (Respectfully)

You: lmao ur right You: thank you for real though

Dabi: Stfu

Mar 12 1:33 PM

Dabi: Do u like cats

You: yes

Dabi sent an image.

Dabi: Noodle thieving menace

You: 🥹 You: that has got to be the fattest street cat i’ve ever seen

Dabi: He’s hella fast

You: how does it feel to be the one chasing the culprit for once

Dabi: Not nearly as thrilling as being the one committing the crime

Mar 13 00:00 AM

Unknown: Congratulations! You have been selected as an eligible member for a free trial of Osaka Daily Post. Unknown: If you would like information about your benefits, reply 'BENEFIT' Unknown: If you would like to stop receiving these messages, reply 'STOP'

You: i know it's you shithead

Unknown: Your message could not be processed.

You: this is the unfunniest you've ever been ngl

Unknown: Your message could not be processed.

You: you're truly one of the most annoying individuals in my life

Unknown: Your message could not be processed.

You: STOP

Unknown: LMAO you thought

Dabi was saved as a contact.

You: i'm reconsidering if the tongue piercing is really worth it 😤

Mar 13 04:55 AM

Dabi: Any particular reason why you chose forensics

Mar 13 06:09 AM

You: i've always admired criminals but been to scared to become one You: and if i know about psychotic assholes it might help me to steer clear of them, or so i thought

Dabi: Is it working

You: evidently not

Dabi: Use me in ur thesis Dabi: I'll be your lab rat

You: nah you're more beneficial to me when you're not stuck behind bars You: what do you have me saved as in your phone

Dabi: I don't save contacts Dabi: Especially not yours Dabi: You mean nothing to me

You: aww do you know my number by heart, that's adorable You: i'm kinda genuinely impressed at how persistent you are at bothering me, it's almost like you like me or smth

Dabi: No fr though lmao if anybody finds my phone you'd be on a list

You: do u delete these chats

Dabi: Always

You: that's so romantic You: admit it you're actually a softie

Dabi: Would that make you more interested in me Dabi: Then I'm the softest

You: what do i need to do to make you the hardest

Dabi: ... Dabi: There's absolutely no correct way for me to respond to that Dabi: You've left me speechless

You: 🥵🥵

Dabi: What's your worst quality Dabi: Besides being an irresistible smartass Dabi: *irritating

You: was that a freudian slip You: you're so obsessed with me it's adorable

Dabi: Proving my point so diligently

You: you don't seem like the kind of person who would use words like 'diligently' You: i'm rather talkative at times You: to the point where it gets unbearable to listen to me

Dabi: I never would've guessed

You: what's yours? You: besides the obvious

Dabi: Still putting up with you

Mar 13 7:45 PM

Dabi: Wyd

You: i burned my rice a little You: but it's edible

Dabi: Don't you have a rice cooker? Who raised you

You: my very strict but sweet and committed grandmother who made the best teriyaki salmon in the whole world You: i'd kill another human being to eat her home cooked food one more time

Dabi: So your parents ain't shit either

You: eh, they're alright You: they're Business People overseas and aren't around a whole lot, means i get my own place though You: so i can have visitors at any desired hour 😏

Dabi: Omg sick Dabi: Me next

You: it was implied

Mar 13 11:11 PM

Dabi: Ok but do u actually wanna meet up sometime Dabi: No strings attached ofc

You: i'm down

Dabi: What if I'm a creep after all

You: if anything, it means i won't have to attend my lecture about carbon dots tmrw

Dabi: I can't tomorrow Dabi: What about the day after Dabi: I'll give u my credit card info if it makes you feel more safe, don't bother trying to buy anything with it tho, you'll be disappointed

You: you may not show it a whole lot, but are you actually a considerate person? You: the day after sounds good

Dabi: Preem

You: oreryu shio ramen, right by harajuku station You: about time you had some good karaage You: my treat You: unless that's too far away for u

Dabi: I would fly across the world for u Dabi: Yes Harajuku works fine

Mar 14 08:49 AM

You: how will i recognise u You: what do u look like

Dabi: As my dad once said. I'm impossible to miss

You: i laughed

Dabi: Guess it was all worth it then Dabi: Do tattoos scare you

You: i was gonna ask cause there's no way you got only a tongue piercing and nothing else You: stand there with your tongue out

Dabi: Shouldn't we at least get to know each other before 😳

You: don't get any ideas You: i don't intend to fuck u You: ...for now

Dabi: That's a relief, I thought I might have to file a restraining order afterwards

Mar 14 1:42 PM

Dabi sent an image.

Dabi: If u see this guy u can still run the other way

You: hhh fuck You: are u trying to intimidate me You: how do you have so many tattoos but no bedframe

Dabi: Cut me some slack, I just moved into this place

You: fair warning i'm not as hot as u

Dabi: Bet

You sent an image.

Dabi: Why do women always lie. I thought you were better. I thought you were different

You: 😳 You: i'm actually worse

Dabi: We're such a good match

You: don't get ahead of urself. u r still a guy with no bedframe

Dabi: Please shut up

Mar 14 4:16 PM

Dabi: To be clear I'm not bringing flowers or anything Dabi: And I'm actually willing to let you pay this time lol

You: you have such a unique way with words

Dabi: A bit tight on money rn but I'll pay u back some other way

You: can we make that the first line in our sextape You: dw i said it's my treat and i mean it You: does that make you feel emasculated

Dabi: Who would I be to say no to free food tf Dabi: If there's a next time I can take you out for drinks Dabi: Nothing fancy but an old friend of mine owns a bar downtown and his girlfriend mixes a killer mule

You: if you're gonna poison me after gaining my trust over my favourite food i will be incredibly sad

Dabi: Give me some credit here. I'm trusting u to not rat me out to law enforcement

You: you're giving me ideas You: is there a bounty on your head

Dabi: I'm not that important

Mar 14 9:44 PM

You: so you're just too good to get caught

Dabi: Both flattering and factually correct Dabi: For the record I've never harmed anybody that didn't deserve it

You: thanks for clarifying You: i feel so safe now

Dabi: Anytime Dabi: If you're having second thoughts lmk before 10 am so I won't spend time getting ready for nothing

You: 10 am is crazy You: u r so vain

Dabi: Alright then I won't 😔

You: i take it back You: be pretty for me

Mar 15 5:30 AM

You: can't sleep

Mar 15 7:12 AM

Dabi: How the turntables Dabi: Are you alright

You: yes You: it's the good kind of sleepless

Dabi: It's fine if you're having second thoughts, I won't hold it against you at all Dabi: Just texting like this is nice too

You: fuck no i wanna meet the man behind the screen You: the myth, the legend, the crimelord himself

Dabi: I'm never showing consideration for ur wellbeing ever again

You: should've ghosted me before i got attached

Mar 15 9:54 AM

Dabi: Last chance to bail gracefully

You: you make it so tempting

Dabi: Getting out of bed then

You: it's not a bed if it doesn't have a bedframe

Dabi: Shut, and I mean this in the gentlest way possible, the hell your mouth

Mar 15 12:08 PM

Dabi sent a location pin.

Dabi: Is this the place

You: that's the one You: be there in a few minutes

Dabi: I'm waiting outside

Mar 15 12:13 PM

You: omg i think i see u You: im shy

Dabi: U literally have so much blackmail material on me

You: give me a second You: alright I'm coming over This message could not be delivered.

#dabi #dabi x reader #touya todoroki #touya c reader #todoroki touca #bnha #dabi x you #touya x you #bnha x reader #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki toya x reader #league of villains #league of villains x reader #bnha x you #i hate that there are so many tags #my writing #(sort of?)#this was honestly super fun :>#x

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2-dsimp · 9 months ago

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A/n: hey yall this is my first ever yandere collab that I did with my dear mutual @yandere-dreams-but-not-really and I’ve never knew how much fun it’d be collabing with others until I did so with them ＜3

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Yandere company Bros

The eldest brother

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→ CW: Yandere tendencies, unhealthy coping methods, obsessive/possessive behavior, Judas needs a hug, internal company conflict

Synopsis: 【You were a new intern for hire at the grand Acer international company ran by the Kinzen family. And you stood out amongst your colleagues by being capable, ambitious, and dedicated to the craft! All the qualities of a true corporate slave which may have attracted some unheeded attention from the future inheritors of said company itself. Ultimately you ended up getting sucked into an internal family succession battle between the youngest and the eldest brother…Let’s just hope you make it out in ONE PIECE.】

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【Eldest brother! Judas was never the type to believe in love at first sight. Despite his father always ranting on about how he fell for his strict mother at first glance. He never truly understood what it meant to feel a romantic love for someone. Throughout his highscool and college years he’s never had a crush or been in a relationship for that matter.】

【But all his reservations went out the window when he saw you, a well put together newbie walking past the doors of the well established business owned by him and his family. Encompassing an essence that of a fresh summer breeze which completely disarmed him.】

【Truly he thought he worked himself to death and was blessed with the sight of an angel who came down to take him away from his mundane life. Of being in his mother, Isidore’s shadow as a prominent businesswoman. Known across the world for her cutthroat business conduct.】

【Eldest brother! Judas was at a loss for words as you stepped up to him with those bright attentive eyes. And offered to help take on the loaded stacks of papers he was lugging into his office with an altruistic smile. The fact that he knew you didn’t know who he was at that time and was this naturally sweet. As opposed to everyone else who usually try coming to his aide with ulterior motives】

【Made His motherfucking heart grip at the enclosure of his rib cage at how you just politely interjected yourself in his space to go ahead and take half of his work load off of him. while he was stunned stupid too flabbergasted to even utter a sentence.】

【This socially stunted stoic man was trying his best to keep his mind afloat as he’s never been affected by such intense emotions before in his 23 years of living. He didn’t know how to act as he tended to isolate himself from his peers. In turn for studying business till his nose bled and working himself up the corporate food chain.】

【Eldest brother! Judas resembled that of a black cat who was looking in pure awe of his new fixation which wasn’t work or studying. His pristine appearance was now unkept with hairs falling flat in his face from how caught off guard he was. Finding himself mindlessly trailing after the new bubbly intern in long strides.】

【When yall reached his office he struggled to find the words to thank you. But his haywire brain opted to abruptly encase your hand in his and bring it towards his bleeding heart. as he gave you what seemed to be a death stare inherited from his mother but in reality was an expression full of gratitude, obsession, and adoration.】

【Congratulations you’ve unknowingly seduced the eldest heir of the Kinzen family. And there’s no take backsies.】

【Eldest brother!Judas is the type to be more or less clingy with his darling. Always calling them to his office to ask for “help” on some assignments. which caused onlookers to give him surprised exchanges. Since the famed hermit workaholic never came out of his dumpster fire of an office to request help of any kind.】

【He just loves seeing you breathe in his general direction. It makes him impulsively grip at the sides of ball pen till it damn near snapped in two. From how His heart is was overflowing with so much pure and genuine infatuation for you.】

【The eldest Kinzen was a ticking time bomb since he always kept everything little thing bottled up inside and never had anyone to confide to unlike his youngest brother Dexter who was a social troglodyte.】

【So as time progresses Judas spends each and every waking moment fantasizing. About what it would be to show you all the admiration that he feels for you. To convey how you’ve turned his world upside down and to emphasize how utterly precious you’d be underneath him due to size difference ahem his management. Working alongside him as his lovely equal/assistant manager.】

【Only one strand of restraint was holding him back from pouncing on you as if he had no good sense. But it was waning with how his meddlesome brother Dexter kept interfering with y’all’s pleasant time together.】

【Eventhough he may have been born with a diamond spoon he was never the one to indulge in it. Not that he could since his mother Isidore was a hard fashioned woman with a strict traditional upbringing. She instilled in her sons that what you earn is what you keep and how there was nothing such as free handouts in the world.】

【And yet since he was the eldest, Isidore made sure to remind him how it was his responsibility to steer his brother in the right direction. Taking her words to heart he always made an effort to accommodate his brother to an extent.】

【In their childhood days whatever Dexter wanted something from Judas. The eldest willingly gave in to him since he could be fussy if he didn’t get what he wanted. But once he noticed the eyes Dexter made at you whilist making you laugh from his charm.】

【Something snapped inside Judas. He didn’t like the way Dexter was trying to put dibs on you in his subtle hand placement on your waist. He despised how happy you sounded from the half baked jokes of the Youngest. He hated how easy it was for Dexter to strike up a conversation with you and be in your general presence without need for work excuses.】

【Don’t look at his brother look at him sure he may not have the best social ques or a way with words but he’ll treat you right. Judas will take care of you as if you were a queen to the throne of his heart.】

“I’ll be good, I’ll be perfect just for you… All I want is for you to look at me, focus only on me, Please don’t look elsewhere with those eyes of yours. I just wanna be yours. So choose me, not him.”

【He’d seldom show you in the most intense ways possible, the depraved man he’s become. Falling weak to his needs to hug you, to kiss you, to embrace you, to show you all the love that he can possibly show you. Within his iron grasp since you’re the one thing that he’ll never give up to his youngest sibling no matter how much tries to tempt you away from him.】

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butchersboobs · 11 days ago

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Twist (Part Two)

A Billy Butcher POV fic

You may need more tissues.

NSFW under the cut- MDNI

READ PART ONE HERE

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I musta been 'ere at least three hours now, an' I swear t'God - that boy ain't stopped bombin' about once.

'Appy little chappy, 'e is. Always yappin' and gigglin' away - eyes bright as a bloody summer’s day.

For someone 'oo's never played a game wiv a kid before today, I don't fink I'm doin' too bad. I've bin chasin' the little bugger 'ere, there 'n every-bloody-where for the last 'alf hour, makin' 'im laugh wiv me ridiculous dinosaur noises - an' I'm fuckin' knackered. But the way 'e looks at me - like e's 'avin the best day of 'is life? Bloody'ell. Even completely fuckin' knackered feels good. Real good.

And then you walk in.

You stand there in the doorway, arms crossed tight across yer chest. And you got that fuckin' look on yer face - one I know all too bloody well. The one that says yer about firty seconds away from bustin' me bollocks over summink that's narked ya.

The whole room suddenly feels off, some'ow. Like ya sucked all the warmth and joy out the place the second ya stepped frew that door.

"Alright, Ollie, time to tidy up now," you say. Christ - even yer voice is stone cold. I bet you've been sat frew there plannin' whatever this is gonna turn into all afternoon, aintcha. Some fings never change.

Ollie’s face falls straight away. E's confused, poor lad. 'E looks up atcha like ya just told 'im Christmas is cancelled. "But me an' Billy playin’, Mummy. Five more minutes pleeease?" he asks, bless'im, holdin' five fingers up.

But you don’t care. Ya don’t even blink. "No - not today. Billy’s got to go. It’s time to go get your jarmies on. Now please, Oliver."

What the fuck ya bein' like this for? We were 'avin a whale of a time, me 'n 'im - five more minutes won'urt, surely? Are ya really that fuckin' desperate to take 'im away from me again? Jesus Christ. No need to upset the boy like this, f'fucksake.

"Can Billy come play t'morrow?" he asks, 'is bottom lip wobblin', tears in 'is eyes..

I'm about to say 'Yeah, I'd like that..' when you let me 'ave it - both fuckin' barrels.

"Billy’s a very busy man, baby. We won't see him again after today. So let's say byebye, and then get ready for bed, yeah? There's a good boy…"

Me stomach drops. The fuck you just say? I can't believe you actually just fuckin' said that. And ya never even flinched.

I can’t fuckin' fink straight.

I just watch Ollie, me 'eart breaking. 'E runs over, wraps 'is tiny arms round me legs and just sobs. "B….bab-bye, b..Billy."

I bend down 'n pick my beautiful little boy up - little fing's light as a fevva. And I 'old 'im close t'me. I don' ever wanna let 'im go. I rub 'is back, rock 'im gently for a minute or two.

I kiss the top of is 'ead, 'n I tell 'im "There then, s'alright mate - don't you worry yerself, right? Don't you cry. We've 'ad a lovely day playin', ain't we, ay? I've never 'ad so much fun in me life! Now, listen t'me, yeah - I promise ya, I'll come back 'n see ya as soon as I can, right? You're a good lad, Oliver. Now, can you do me a favour and go play in your room, yeah? Put them dinosaurs to bed. Billy needs to 'ave a little chat wiv yer mum, OK? There's a good boy."

I set 'im down, an' off he mopes, all dejected.

And when 'e's gone upstairs, summink inside me snaps.

I can’t 'old it back no more. The rage. I fuckin' can’t.

Me fists are clenched that tight I can feel me knuckles turning white.

I’ve been patient. Kept me fuckin' mouth shut in front o'the kid.

But now - I’m fuckin done.

Done wiv you, ya fuckin' bitch.

"'Appy now, ya spiteful cunt? Some fuckin' muvva you are. Fuck me…"

"I won't be happy 'til you get the fuck out of my house and away from MY fucking son, Billy…'

“Are you fuckin' stupid or summink? You seriously thought I’d just show up 'ere, play wiv'im for an hour, and then just fuck off like it’s no big deal?” Me fuckin' anger's still spirallin'. "You really believe that’s all I fuckin' came 'ere for?"

You just stand there, all defensive. Fuckin' arms crossed again, like you’re waitin' for me to apologise for givin' a shit about me own kid. You got some fuckin' nerve, girl, after everyfin you've done.

"You knew what this was," you say, all calm and collected, as if I’m the one in the fuckin' wrong. "You just wanted a chance to meet him properly. That's what you got. And now, you can fuck off."

I can feel the blood rushin' to me 'ead.

Fuckin'ell.

"Yeah, I said that, didn’t I?" I snarl atcha, steppin' closer, not even givin' you an inch. "And now, I’ve changed me mind. I ain't fuckin’ goin’ anywhere. You fink ya can stop me seein' 'im, do ya? Fink that's your fuckin' decision t'make?"

You keep yer gob shut for a fuckin' change, probly finking ya got some kinda power 'ere, some kinda control. But you fuckin' ain't. Not no more.

"You can kick off all ya fuckin' like," I yell, takin' another step toward ya. "But you ain’t keepin' my son from me. You fucking 'ear me?"

And then I see it. You’re scared.

You're tryin' ya best to 'ide it, but I can see it in yer eyes.

You fink I’m gonna back off, dontcha, ay? Fink I’m just blowin' steam. Well, I fuckin' ain't, I can promise you that, love.

"Who the fuck d'ya fink you are, ay? You fink ya can keep me out 'is life, like I don’t fuckin' matter? He's my fuckin' son! An' i'm fuckin' tellin' ya now - you ain't fuckin’ walkin' away wiv 'im again. Not now, not ever. Do you fuckin' understand me?"

Your face twists. You’re angry now. But I don’t give a fuck.

I ain't fuckin' interested in anyfin' you gotta say right now. I can't even bear to be in the same fuckin' room as ya. So off I fuck. I'm so fuckin' mad I pretty much rip yer fuckin' door off, just openin' it. I stand in the doorway and look back over me shoulder.

“I’ll be back to see the boy again, very soon.” I tell ya, tone bitin', venomous. "And God fuckin' 'elp you if you try t'stop me."

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Tags: @babyfri3dric3 @dumpy-little-nobody @bohemianblasphemy @smallsadjellyfish @frank3nfag @noonwardmoss @rebelled-angel @karlurbanism @jax-the-oregonian @chocolategiverzombie @scxrchedearf @bluemerakis @enchantedflameandflower @allirose18 @chiefcreatorcreation @bobabilbil

#billy butcher imagine #the boys #billy butcher brainrot go brr #billy butcher #karl urban #billy butcher x you #billy butcher smut #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher x y/n

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alphajocklover · 3 months ago

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So I just finished my 3rd year exams at university (hopefully I did well enough to make it into a 4th year and go for an Master's of science) and as soon as I get out near the crowd to celebrate a guy bumps into me and I broke my phone. I was ready to give him a piece of my mind until I saw he was pretty built, he must be on some university team for something. He felt awful apparently and he gave me his old phone as an apology. It came with this InstaJock app thing on it. I dunno what it is but I kinda wanna load it up...

Another instance of a jock giving someone a phone with InstaJock already downloaded on it. Another instance of someone doing something with InstaJock that doesn’t make any sense. I know it’s unprofessional to say something like this, but this is driving me crazy. Why would a jock give away their phone? If they wanted to turn you into a jock like them, they’d just send you the app! If they wanted to give you a new phone for real, they’d have wiped it before giving it to you. I guess it's possible they forgot, but InstaJock is super important to the users that get transformed into jocks. Even with how stupid jocks can be, I doubt they’d forget about the app that literally changed their life. So… why?

I’ve mentioned in some of my earlier Instajock posts that someone has been messing with people using this app. Using it in unconventional ways to mess with people, spreading false information about the app, and even making knock offs of the transformative app. My first thought was that it had to be The Master. Not the Doctor Who villain, to those who get that reference, but someone I introduced to you all in a recent post. He’s the creator of Instajock and the mastermind behind my Uncle’s transformation and kidnapping. He’s an incredibly powerful figure in the Transformation Community, even more than I’ve told you. Most people who know about transformations are scared to mention him, even other TF Reporters are, and most powerful people or groups who work with transformation either do business with him or stay out of his way. But… I don’t think he’s the one behind this. He likes to mess with people, play with his victims like whoever is behind this, but if he wanted to do that he could just add features to the actual InstaJock app. He had no reason to do things in such a roundabout way. Which makes me think… it’s someone else.

Whoever is doing this has an intimate knowledge of the app, so It has to be someone involved with InstaJock, someone besides The Master. Maybe someone who works for him? Even he couldn’t have programmed the entire app on his own and added in the magical elements without help. Plus he isn’t one for upkeep, so he’s probably having someone else run the site for him. They also have to be someone with a lot of nerve to mess with The Master, maybe someone who they’ve hurt personally. On top of all of that it’d also have to be someone the jocks would listen to. Maybe someone who worked on InstaJock that The Master fired, a former employee?

I can’t be sure of who's behind this yet, but I do know that whatever they’re trying to do with you isn’t good. When you press that app, you won’t just be turned into a jock like a regular InstaJock user. It has to be something… special. Something that would benefit, or would at least interest the person behind this. Maybe you’ll turn into a copy of the jock who gave you the phone, become their perfect twin? Maybe something else will happen entirely. I can’t be sure.

If it’s not too late, send me the phone immediately. I can put it somewhere safe, and I might be able to protect you from whoever's doing this. If it is too late… Well I hope you enjoy whatever happened. Being transformed against your will sucks, but being a jock can be fun, even if it isn’t your choice.

**3 stories in one day, all InstaJock? I must be on a roll! I hope you guys liked this one! There are still more mysteries and more transformations to discover! Stay tuned!**

#muscle growth tf #muscle tf #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #nerd to jock #instajock tf

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ragsforless · 9 months ago

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Dune crack!au (5)

Feyd: Hey, Paul.

Paul: No.

Feyd: Husband dear?

Paul: Fine. What do you want now?

Feyd: Can I have my knives back?

Paul: No.

Feyd: Pretty please?

Paul: Still no.

Feyd: It’s been 2 months! I want my precious Giedi Prime knives back-

Paul: Not until you say sorry to Gurney and Stilgar.

Feyd: I did nothing wrong! I’m innocent!

Paul: You deliberately stole all of their clothes and made them into freaking tents and curtains!

Feyd: Actually, it was our dear

Princess Irulan who stole them.

Paul: That’s not the point!

Feyd: The point is that I, the gorgeous Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was the one who made the sparkly sand proof tents and curtains-

Paul: Ugh. Muad’Dib, help me.

Feyd: My Lankiveil sewing skills are superior to-

Paul: F*ck your stupid Lankiveil sewing skills! Tell Gurney that you’re sorry right now!

Feyd: It was extremely hot and Irulan and I needed new curtains!

Paul: You could’ve just asked me for new ones instead of stealing Gurney’s galactic underpants-

Feyd: And ruin our yearly budget?! Our monthly savings?! The Arrakeen economy?! Not on my watch, husband. Not on my watch!

Paul: Feyd, babe, calm down-

Feyd: I want my knives back, Paul!

Paul: Give me one good reason-

Feyd: My daddy gave them to me.

Paul: Apologize first!

Feyd: I’m your wife!

Paul: And I’m the Emperor of the known universe!

Feyd: Fine! keep them! Burn them! Throw them away! I don’t care!

Paul: Feyd, listen-

Feyd: But I’m telling Irulan that you’re abusing your powers again.

Paul: No, not her! Don’t tell her-

Feyd: Irulan! Irulan, Paul is being a tyrannical control freak again!

Irulan: *runs in* Feyd, babe, are we in trouble?!

Feyd: Muad’Dib, no.

Irulan: Did our husband find out about our “math” business with Stilgar and his Fremen friends?!

Feyd: No, not yet.

Irulan: Oh, thank Muad’Dib.

Paul: But I’m Muad’Dib-

Feyd: Paul said that he’ll cancel our super secret ✨Music Nights with Shai-Hulud✨ and exclusive ✨Desert Festivals✨ again!

Irulan: *glares at Paul* You evil tyrant, how could you?!

Paul: I- I love ✨Music Nights with Shai-Hulud✨!

Feyd: You don’t even sing!

Paul: I do! I swear I do!

Irulan: Oh, stop changing the freaking subject, Paul!

Paul: Last I’ve checked, we’re still on the same page!

Irulan: You promised me that Feyd and I can sing freely in the desert with Stilgar every other night!

Feyd: Our dear husband also told me that the members of House Corrino are just a bunch of nerdy losers!

Paul: I- I was drunk!

Irulan: Chani! Chani, Paul is abusing his witchy powers again!

Chani: *walks in* Yo, what’s up, losers? How’s life?

Irulan: Our “beloved” husband said that your desert hair sucks!

Chani: He did not-

Irulan: He did!

Feyd: We’re telling the truth.

Paul: Chani bear, we all know that our dear “Drunk Irulan” and “Freaky Feyd-Rautha” are clearly lying-

Irulan: Drunk Irulan?! Who the f*ck is Drunk Irulan?!

Chani: Lol.

Feyd: Chani bear, your “Paular bear” also told me that you smell like a dying Shai-Hulud.

Chani: A what?!

Feyd: A dying ugly ass Shai-Hulud.

Paul: Chani-

Chani: Somebody is sleeping with the sandworms tonight!

Feyd: Yeah! The sandworms!

Irulan: Let’s go sandworms!

Paul: Ughhhh! I knew it! I knew I should’ve stayed single.

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oddinary4bts · 1 year ago

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Sinful Lust (ch 2) | myg & jjk

☆summary: bringing Jungkook in your bedroom life might have been the most exciting phase of your relationship with Yoongi. Getting to know Jungkook more might be the second most exciting phase of your relationship... but will it lead to its demise?

☆pairing: bisexual boyfriend!Yoongi x female!reader x Jungkook

☆rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

☆genre: mostly smut, angst, snippets of life!au

☆warnings: making out in a car, pet names, curses, explicit content: dirty talking, grinding, jerking off, nipple play, hickeys, oral sex (male on male, female on male, male on female), balls sucking, choking, praising, clit play, fingering, hair pulling, mouth fucking, unprotected sex (don't be stupid), double vaginal penetration, ass slapping, squirting, anal fingering

☆word count: 9.4k

☆a/n: Some more pure filth for you guys... with a side of angst at the end. Thank you @moonleeai as always for beta-ing this fic <3

☆a/n pt2: I do not own BTS or any of the members. I do not know what they are like irl (I do not claim to know their personalities, sexual orientations, beliefs, etc.). This fic is just a work of fiction, so please keep that in mind while reading

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

The next time you see Jungkook, it’s at a dinner at Taehyung’s house. Though Yoongi has never been close to Taehyung, when Jungkook said it’d be fun to have both of you around, you didn’t hesitate. Indeed, it had Yoongi and you getting… excited once again, so needless to say, you attend the dinner.

You expect there to be a lot of tension during dinner, but surprisingly, it’s just like it always is. Yoongi spends most of his time smiling as his friends talk, joining in the conversation once in a while. You hang out with Hoseok and Taehyung's girlfriends, Ryunah and Sohee, as you usually do during these dinners.

What you don’t miss, though, is the way Jungkook suggestively looks at you. The way Yoongi wets his lips when it happens, eyes falling to the table with a knowing smile. You wink at Jungkook when no one is watching, and it feels like you have your own little secret with him and Yoongi, and truly you do.

It makes you way too expectant for what’s to happen at the end of the night. And it’s no surprise to you that you end up making out with Jungkook on the backseat of Yoongi’s car while your boyfriend drives, palming himself through his pants from the sounds you and Jungkook make. You all have taken your winter jackets off already, the heat in the car far too high even though the world is freezing outside.

“Can’t wait till we’re home, uh?” Yoongi lets out, and it sounds a little jealous.

You pull away from Jungkook’s mouth, looking at your boyfriend in the rear-view mirror while Jungkook busies himself sucking a mark on your neck. You hiss as his teeth sink into the skin, and you feel Jungkook smirk against you.

“I can’t wait to have you buried inside of me,” you answer Yoongi.

It’s Jungkook’s time to hiss as you pull on his hair hard enough to make him look at you. He meets your gaze through half-lidded eyes, and you crash your mouth against his, sucking on his bottom lip. One of your hands lies on his thigh, and you move it to palm him through his pants.

He’s already hard, dick pushing against the fabric of his jeans as he grinds once, looking for friction. At that, you pull away from his mouth again and say, “Someone’s a little excited, uh?”

As you’re unbuttoning his pants, Jungkook pants out, “I’ve been thinking about having both of you under me again all week”.

Your blood turns to lava, and you fumble with his button for a second too long to your liking. You curse, and Yoongi chuckles from the front seat.

“You both need to learn how to be patient,” he teases.

You manage to finally unbutton Jungkook’s pants, but instead of sliding your hand in his pants, you lean towards Yoongi, aiming for his dick. You palm him, liking the weight of him in your hand.

“Clearly, you’re a little impatient, too,” you tease back.

Jungkook runs a large hand on your back as you keep palming your boyfriend until Yoongi grunts and says, “Stop, I have to focus on driving”.

You laugh, before sitting back next to Jungkook. He pulls you back into yet another heated kiss, and this time your hand slips into his pants, wrapping around his cock. He bucks his hips once, moaning in your mouth as you start jerking him off, a little awkwardly from the angle that his pants force you to be in.

You jerk him off for the rest of the ride, even as Yoongi tuts from the front seat, repeating in his low, husky tone that you and Jungkook are too impatient. It makes you chuckle breathlessly because Jungkook managed to get your shirt up, and he’s sucking on one of your nipples, tongue flicking at it expertly.

You’re so wet by the time you get to your apartment complex that you’re pretty sure you’ve soaked the seat under you. You don’t look to make sure, too excited to make it up to your place. Jungkook struggles with his hard-on for a time until he’s got it secured in the band of his pants, hiding it with his oversized shirt.

Only then does he follow you and Yoongi out of the car, and he looks at you two while you share your first heated kiss of the night with your boyfriend.

“Come on,” Jungkook says, and he moves towards the elevator, soon followed by you and Yoongi. Yoongi holds your hand tightly, and while you wait for the elevator he presses a kiss on your neck, where the collar of your shirt gives way to skin. You meet Jungkook’s gaze then, and he looks a little crazed, as if not jumping in right now is taking all of his strength.

And maybe it is.

The elevator ride is just as heated. With you pressed between the two guys, ass grinding on Jungkook while you kiss Yoongi, and then lips sucking on your boyfriend’s neck while he kisses Jungkook. You’re too insane with lust to realize anyone could walk in and see you, though luckily enough for you, your ride is spent without any interruption.

You fumble with your keys as you unlock the door, struggling to get the key into the hole as you’re distracted by the lewd sounds Jungkook and Yoongi are making. You shoot them a look: Yoongi’s got his tongue deep in Jungkook’s mouth, and Jungkook’s inked hand is palming your boyfriend through his pants.

You think you’re going to come right then and there. And you don’t know how, but you manage to get the door open. A second later, the three of you are in, and the door is blissfully closed behind you, allowing you to indulge in the sins the night promises to hold.

Jungkook pins you against the wall, kissing you wildly, as Yoongi rids him of his pants. Your hands are splayed on Jungkook’s chest, and you can feel the quick beats of his heart under your fingertips. You moan in his mouth as he sucks on your tongue, and when he moves back to allow your boyfriend to kneel between the two of you, your teeth dig into your bottom lip, almost hard enough to draw blood.

Because Yoongi’s already wrapped his pretty lips around the head of Jungkook’s cock, and one of his hands is massaging Jungkook’s balls.

“Look who’s impatient now,” you tease, and Jungkook chuckles.

“He couldn’t wait to be in the bedroom to have my dick stuffed in his mouth, uh?”

You smirk down at your boyfriend, who looks up at the two of you desperately. When he releases Jungkook’s dick to run his tongue along the length, you get on your knees too, and Jungkook let out a surprised sound.

“Might as well suck you with him, uh?”

Jungkook grabs the back of your head, pushing you towards his dick. “Can’t say no to that.”

Your tongue darts out, tasting Yoongi’s spit along with Jungkook’s precum on the slit. Yoongi watches you from the other side, pupils blown wide, as he holds Jungkook’s cock so you can take him in your mouth.

You do so, eyes fluttering shut as Jungkook bucks his hips and hits the back of your throat. You hold in the gag reflex and start going back and forth, letting Jungkook guide your head until he’s found the rhythm that he likes.

You can’t see what Yoongi’s doing but can feel him nearby. At some point, Jungkook pulls your head back, and you open your eyes to see him stuffing his dick back into Yoongi’s awaiting mouth.

You let out a breathy sound, then lean so you can suck on Jungkook’s balls instead, teasing them with your tongue before actually taking one in your mouth.

“You guys are so good,” Jungkook praises. “Always so good to me.”

You both like the praise, and Yoongi moans audibly around Jungkook’s cock.

“That’s it, hyung, you’re so good,” Jungkook says, and you sit back on your heels to look up at him.

He’s looking down at the two of you, but when your gazes connect, it feels like an intimate embrace. His mouth is slightly parted, and he looks pained standing there, so you stand up, pressing your lips to his. He grunts in your mouth, but as you kiss, he starts undressing you, ridding you of your shirt first. You part just long enough for the shirt to pass your head, and then your mouths collide again. Your teeth clash together, and it makes both of you laugh in the kiss, though Jungkook’s laugh morphs into a moan.

You swallow it, tongue lapping at his, and you keep kissing him, getting drunk on the taste of him.

“Fuck,” he says, pulling away from the kiss. “Hyung, if you keep going, I’ll never make it to the bedroom.”

Yoongi chuckles as he sits back on his heels, and you look down at him where he’s slowly stroking Jungkook’s cock. “Too bad you taste so good,” Yoongi says, voice gravelly from the blowjob. His pink lips glisten with a mix of spit and precum, and you have the urgent need to kiss him.

Yoongi gets up, as if sensing your need, to press his lips against yours, and you taste Jungkook’s sweetness in his mouth. It makes you moan, loudly, especially as Jungkook grabs at the meat of your ass, hard.

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” Jungkook says, and his voice sounds dangerous.

You’re shaking with lust as Yoongi pulls away from the kiss, nodding once.

He grabs your hand, pulling you behind him as Jungkook rids himself of his pants and boxers, where they were pooled at his ankles. He follows the two of you with only his shirt on, and his cheeks are flushed red with arousal when you glance at him over your shoulder.

You want him so much it hurts. But mostly, you want him for Yoongi again. You want to see that indecent mouth of his on Yoongi’s cock again, want to see him swallow everything your boyfriend spills into him.

You whine, and he offers you a smirk. “Something wrong, baby?”

At that, Yoongi grows a little possessive. “Is she your baby?” He tugs you closer to him right as you enter the bedroom, making you turn around so he can press his erection on your ass. One of his large hands wraps around your throat, fingers skillfully digging into the arteries, and the other one moves down to rid you of your pants.

Jungkook looks a little alarmed as if he didn’t mean the pet name to slip out. Though, when Yoongi manages to free you of your pants, the fabric falling to the floor, Jungkook’s eyes drop to the wet spot on your panties.

“Nah, she’s yours, hyung,” he says. “And she’s all soaked up for us. What a good girl, don’t you think?”

Yoongi bites your shoulder, sucking hard, and you throw your head back. “I’ll let you have her a little tonight.”

Jungkook smirks. “I know. You’re such a good boy.”

Yoongi moves your panties to the side, and two of his fingers find your clit. Your mouth falls open, as you start to get dizzy from the absence of oxygen to your brain. Soon, Yoongi will have to let you breathe, but you like testing your limit, so you let him continue.

When more fingers find your entrance, Jungkook’s hand having moved between the two of you, you grab at Yoongi’s forearm. It’s enough for him to know to let you breathe, and you take a sharp inhale of air that turns into a moan as Jungkook’s fingers dig inside of you, arching to find that sweet spot.

The two men pleasure you for a while until your legs start to shake. Only then do they let you go, speaking about how you turn into playdough for them.

You want to say something, but then they start kissing, and all you can do is watch as you palm your breasts. Until you realize Yoongi is still fully dressed, something that needs to be remedied right now. So you grab at the hem of his shirt, pushing it up until Jungkook gets the clue and pulls away. He helps you, and soon enough, you’ve undressed Yoongi together, as Jungkook whispers filth to the two of you. Jungkook also takes his shirt off, as you push Yoongi’s pants down his legs.

You get an idea as Yoongi steps out of his pants, looking down at his cock. He’s so hard it looks painful, and you run one hand on the side of his dick.

“Should we try something new tonight?” you suggest.

Yoongi meets your gaze, tilting his head to the side. “You know I’m always down to try something new.”

Your eyes slide to Jungkook next, awaiting his confirmation that he’d be willing, too. “What do you have in mind?” he asks.

You look back at your boyfriend. “He deserves some more action, doesn’t he?”

Jungkook remains silent as you drop to your knees between the two of them. You lick at the head of your boyfriend’s dick once, one hand finding the base of it while the other finds the base of Jungkook’s cock. You jerk them off in sync, looking up at the two of them. They wait for an explanation patiently, and you can’t help sucking on Jungkook’s frenulum once.

“Fuck,” Jungkook lets out. “What do you have in mind?” he asks again as you swipe your tongue on the same spot.

“What would you be willing to do?” you ask him.

While you wait for his answer, you turn towards your boyfriend’s dick, swirling your tongue around the head. You still jerk Jungkook off, though it grows unfocused as you suck Yoongi’s dick.

“For you? Way more than I ever thought I’d be willing to do.”

“Shibal,” Yoongi curses, and you look up to see him pull Jungkook into a heated kiss. His large hand closes around Jungkook’s neck, and Jungkook moans lightly as Yoongi starts choking him.

His dick jumps in your hand, and you slow the rhythm, fully expecting him to come then and there. You’re surprised – he wasn’t desperate the last time you had sex with him. It was quite the other way around: he manhandled both you and Yoongi like it was nothing.

Tonight, it feels like maybe you’re going to be the ones manhandling him.

“Would you fuck him for me?” you ask as you sit back on your heels, licking your lips clean of Yoongi’s salty precum. “I want to see him moaning your name.”

They part, both of them shooting you looks like you’ve gone entirely crazy. Yoongi, with an expectant look on his features, and Jungkook, with a frown that makes you think maybe he’s not really willing to do anything you ask.

“Uh,” he lets out as you slowly stroke his dick.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Yoongi reassures him. “She just wants to be a good girl and please me.”

Jungkook chuckles, and he meets Yoongi’s gaze. “Nothing against you hyung, but I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

You whine, a little disappointed. It makes Yoongi laugh as he gently brushes his fingers on your cheek. “It’s okay, baby. I think he wants to fuck you instead.”

At that, Jungkook bucks his hips, fucking himself in your hand. Though you’re a little disappointed, you still smirk and say, “You might be right, look at him all desperate.”

“You guys are going to be the death of me,” Jungkook says, voice low. He curses, slightly shaking his head, as Yoongi’s fingers move to the head of Jungkook’s cock, collecting a bead of precum before licking it clean.

“We’ll make sure you die happy,” you tease, and you finally let go of their dicks, standing up between them.

It leads to a make-out session that has your mind spinning. It’s full of lips and tongues, and you don’t even know who you’re kissing anymore. Only that your mind is full of them, skin tingling wherever they touch you. And they touch you everywhere until they’ve had enough and they push you to the bed.

You sit instinctively when the back of your knees hit the mattress, and you look up at the two of them as they start kissing. Jungkook pulls on your boyfriend’s hair, making Yoongi moan, and when they part, he grabs Yoongi’s jaw, forcing him to look at you.

“Why don’t you eat her out?” Jungkook suggests. “I’m pretty sure your girl wants you.”

You bite your lips, nodding your head in agreement. “You think Yoongi can make me come with his tongue?”

Yoongi drops to his knees as Jungkook laughs and says, “I’m sure he will”.

Yoongi spreads your legs, and you instinctively lie down. He pulls your panties down your legs, ridding you of them, and then his mouth finds your clit. He sucks on it, hard, and stars already form on the periphery of your vision.

“Fuck,” you let out.

Jungkook kneels on the bed, stroking his dick. “Can I fuck your mouth while he eats you out?” he asks.

You nod your head, probably a little too enthusiastically, and Jungkook positions himself next to you. You turn your head to the side, but to your surprise, he makes you move so he can place a pillow under your head.

“For your neck,” he says gently, features turning soft even though he’s about to fuck your mouth.

It’s sweet, and you try to ignore the way that it makes your heart squeeze in your chest. Instead, you put your head down on the pillow, face still turned towards him, and your tongue darts out to lick at his slit.

He’s quick to grab the back of your head and push his cock between your lips, barely even letting you breathe as he starts pounding in your mouth.

You let him do it, mostly because Yoongi has pushed two fingers inside of you, and you’re pretty sure your orgasm is about to wipe you from the surface of the earth.

Jungkook slows down when one of your hands finds his powerful thigh, and he pulls out to let you breathe for a time. When he leans down to dry the tears that have slipped down your cheeks, you meet his gaze again.

He looks pained. You want to ask what’s hurting him, but your orgasm crashes over you, and you lose focus of the scene. You come long and hard, walls pulsating hard against Yoongi’s digits. Because of course he fingers you through your high, sucking on your clit and flicking it lightly with that wicked tongue of his.

He knows what you like, and only he is able to make your orgasms drag for so long. He really does, and when he finally lets you go, you’re a panting mess.

“That looks like it felt good,” Jungkook teases and Yoongi laughs.

“She’s all ready for us now,” he says, and he runs a loving hand on your side.

Your eyes flutter open to the sight of the two men looking down at you. You let out a small laugh before saying, “Holy fucking shit”.

They laugh, and you push yourself up weakly until you’re sitting between them. You look between the two of them, not knowing what to do next. You feel drained, and if they notice, they don’t care. Because Jungkook takes the rein, telling you to climb on Yoongi.

You obey, head barely there when Yoongi fucks up into you, fully embedding his dick inside of you. When he hits your cervix, you come back to your senses, and you let out a long, broken moan that was supposed to be his name.

Yoongi barely gives you a break though. He holds onto your waist, fucking you quick and fast, the way you know he likes, and you’re a mess on top of him. It lasts for a moment, with Jungkook barely making any noises beside you. You’re aware that he’s jerking off, mostly because you see him move in the periphery of your vision. It takes you a moment before you’re able to look at him, and when you do, your pussy clenches around Yoongi’s cock, hard.

“Fuck, baby,” Yoongi whines.

“I want you too,” you tell Jungkook, the only coherent words you could think of.

Jungkook smirks, wetting his lips. “You want me in your ass or in your pussy?”

“Pussy,” you answer, unable to form a full sentence even though Yoongi has slowed down.

“You think you can take the both of us?” Jungkook asks. “It’s going to be a lot.”

You’re adamant. You say yes, eyes tearing up just at the thought of having both of them inside of you.

“Your girlfriend is such a good girl,” Jungkook says, addressing Yoongi this time.

Yoongi slows some more, pecking your shoulder. “She’s the best.”

It makes your heart swell with love for him, and you meet his mouth in a long, languid kiss as Jungkook moves behind you, positioning himself. You understand that he’s about to stretch you wide open when Yoongi stills, giving him a chance to push in.

It doesn’t go in at first. Jungkook lets out a small laugh, and you hear him spit behind you. He rubs it on your entrance before digging two fingers in. Yoongi moans under you, and all you can do is shut your eyes, pressing your head against his shoulder.

Jungkook fingers you for a time, adding a third finger when your walls start to relax. He does it for a while, with Yoongi remaining still as a statue under you, though he grunts and hisses his fill. When Jungkook thinks you’re ready, he pulls his fingers out before slapping your ass once.

You jerk in Yoongi’s embrace, as it took you by surprise, but then the feel of Jungkook’s tip at your entrance has you moaning lightly.

“Are you ready?” he asks, and you’re surprised by his gentle touch on your hip.

You nod.

“Use your words.”

“Fuck me, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He starts pushing in, slowly, and it burns so much you have tears escaping the confine of your eyes. Yoongi’s grip on you tightens, almost uncomfortably so, but Jungkook’s grip on your hip remains infinitely gentle.

He stills when the head is in, before pulling out. He spits on his dick, adding more natural lubrication, before he starts pushing in again. This time, it’s a little easier, and he’s able to push all the way in, his dick resting against Yoongi’s where it presses deep against your walls.

Jungkook doesn’t move for a long time, and none of you speak. You feel full, fuller than you’ve ever felt in your entire life, and as much as it hurts, it also feels good. Way too good, and your pussy clenches around the two men.

“Fuck,” Yoongi curses at the same time as Jungkook grunts. “Fuck, baby, I’m going to come so soon.”

At that, Jungkook laughs. “You like when my dick touches yours?”

It’s so indecent you moan against your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Yoongi shamelessly answers. “You feel so good, Jungkook.”

It’s an understatement. Jungkook feels better than anything you’ve ever felt in your entire life. Especially as he starts to pull out, ever so slowly, and you can feel the drag of every vein of his dick on your walls.

He pushes back in, one powerful thrust that has you crying out as Yoongi moans.

“You guys like this?” Jungkook asks, and it sounds a little pained. It’s rhetorical, especially as he starts pulling out, faster this time. It doesn’t hurt as much as it initially did, and your hand shoots behind you until it finds the side of his thigh.

You don’t know why you do it, but you just have this visceral need to touch him. So you rest your fingers on the side of his leg as he establishes a slow, steady rhythm, and when he grunts something that suspiciously sounds like your name, your walls clench against the two of them again.

“Hyung, I think you can move too,” Jungkook says a little breathlessly. “You think we can make her come like this?”

You’re pretty sure Yoongi is going to be the first one to come, but you refrain from saying so as your boyfriend matches his movements to Jungkook’s. It makes your eyes roll to the back of your head as you lose sense of everything but the spot between your legs.

They fuck you slow at first, but soon the pace picks up, and you’re a whining, moaning mess by the time Yoongi moans loudly before cursing a litany of words that has goosebumps appearing all over your body. He comes a lot, turning your insides white, stopping deep inside of you as Jungkook just keeps going. Yoongi’s seed makes it easier for Jungkook to move, and he’s soon pounding inside of you, grunting loudly.

At some point, Yoongi slips out of you, but he still holds you as Jungkook keeps going. Jungkook leans forward, and when he starts kissing your boyfriend, you grab the back of his neck, holding him in place.

He doesn’t come. He stops before he does, his dick so hard inside of you you think you’ll lose it. You’ll go fully crazy, forget everything about yourself, and all you’ll remember is him. And the worst part is, you don’t even care.

Jungkook pulls out, and the sudden emptiness almost hurts just as much as having the two of them inside of you did. You whine, and it makes him laugh.

“Lie on your back,” he orders, slapping your ass once.

Yoongi’s grip on your waist loosens enough for you to move, and you meet your boyfriend’s gaze once as you lay down next to him. He looks blissed out, much like you felt earlier, and you don’t blame him: with Jungkook in the equation, your orgasms have really started hitting different.

When you’re on your back, Jungkook kneels between your legs. He caresses your thighs gently, waits for you to look at him, and when your gazes connect he pushes in. You moan, eyes losing their focus for a few seconds. He remains still until you’re focused on him again, and then he glances at Yoongi.

“Think you can play with her clit while I fuck her?” he asks. “I want to pull another orgasm out of her before I finish.”

Yoongi chuckles. “You’re going to ruin her.”

“Isn’t that how you like your girlfriend to be?”

Jungkook really is a demon. The King of Hell himself, and he’s imprisoned the two of you down there with him, for the rest of eternity.

When Yoongi kisses him, Jungkook starts to fuck you, slowly. You watch as he grabs Yoongi’s wrist to put his fingers on your clit. Yoongi moans in the kiss, almost at the same time as you do as he starts rubbing your clit. It takes a few swipes before he does it the way that you like, and you’re a writhing mess under Jungkook when he starts pounding hard into you, so much so that you think it’d hurt. Somehow it doesn’t, and you shut your eyes, hands looking for purchase. You find someone’s hand, and you don’t even care whose it is. You just hold onto it as the two men start pulling another orgasm out of you. This one feels different, more intense, and it has everything inside of you tightening.

When it hits, you come so hard it pushes Jungkook out of you. He’s quick to bury his cock back inside of you, fighting against your pulsating walls, and then he’s releasing, his cum mixing with what was left of Yoongi’s.

He stills deep inside of you as he comes, and when you think he’s done, your eyes flutter open. You don’t know when, but Yoongi moved while Jungkook was fucking you. So you’re holding one of Jungkook’s hands, while the other was rubbing at your clit. You’re confused – you didn’t feel the shift at all – and you just watch Jungkook for a time as he breathes raggedly, still buried deep inside of you.

“You squirted all over me,” he states.

You only notice then how his lower stomach is all wet, golden skin glistening with your cum. It makes your walls tighten around him once more, and he lets out a chuckle.

“You liked it?”

You did. Way more than you thought you could. Way more than you should have, considering Yoongi wasn’t helping anymore. You shoot a look at your boyfriend, hoping that he’s okay with it, and when you notice he’s gone hard again, you know that he, too, liked it far more than he should have.

“Yeah,” you finally answer Jungkook, as he finally decides to pull out. It gains your attention, and you look at him as he focuses on the spot between your legs.

When you feel his cum, and Yoongi’s, starting to drip out, Jungkook pushes it back in, burying two fingers in your pussy.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says, voice low, eyes burning into you. He meets your gaze, and you’re pretty sure you’re going to catch fire, especially as he arches his fingers, playing with that sweet spot inside of you. “Think I can make you come again?”

To his surprise, the word you answer is “Yoongi”.

Your boyfriend perks up at the mention of his name. “Yeah?”

You turn back towards Jungkook, meeting his gaze with a challenge in yours. “I’ll let you make me come if you fuck him.”

Jungkook looks down at his softening length, letting out a small laugh. “I don’t think I’ll be able right away.”

“Well then,” you let out. You moan when his fingers start moving faster, before closing your thighs around his wrist. He gets the clue, and he stills. “No fingering me.”

He clenches his jaw, a muscle ticking under the skin. “Your loss, baby.”

And then he leaves you empty. You both look towards your boyfriend, who’s slowly stroking his dick. He eyes you both, an unreadable look on his features.

“Why don’t you finger his ass?” you suggest.

Jungkook’s tongue pokes at his cheek, in frustration perhaps. “You really want me to put something in his ass, uh?”

Though you’re still riding the ecstasy, you manage to smirk wickedly. “He deserves it, don’t you think? He’s been so good for us.”

Jungkook wets his lips, nodding once. To your surprise, it’s Yoongi who speaks.

“You really don’t have to.”

“Shut up before I change my mind,” Jungkook tells him, but he’s looking at you. “I’ll finger his ass while you suck his dick. I want to see you swallow everything he has to give you.”

You almost say you want to see Jungkook swallowing, but you refrain from doing so, not wanting him to change his mind.

You both move next to Yoongi, and you swat his hand away from his dick. He chuckles, though he looks a little breathless as you grab his cock. It only increases when Jungkook spreads his legs, kneeling between Yoongi’s thighs to get a good angle. And he looks at you when he spits on his fingers before bringing them to Yoongi’s asshole.

He still looks at you when he pushes the two fingers in, fighting against the circle of muscle until Yoongi’s ass swallows them whole.

Yoongi moans, but there’s something about how Jungkook’s looking at you. As much as you want to see what Yoongi looks like right now, you can’t move, can’t gaze away from the prison of Jungkook’s eyes. He looks angry, and when he tilts his head to the side, you lean towards him, catching his lips in a kiss.

You think it’s the most heated kiss you’ve ever shared with anyone before. It has you dripping again, thinking you’d be ready to go once more, even though your core aches from the double penetration and the rough fuck that followed. It has a knot forming in your stomach, a painful one at that, and you moan in his mouth.

When he pulls away from the kiss, it’s to grab the back of your head and force you to bend down until your face is right over Yoongi’s cock. You don’t hesitate: you wrap your lips around the flushed-red tip, sucking once. And then you move down, hollowing your cheeks as Yoongi hits the back of your throat. The gag reflex doesn’t come, though your eyes turn blurry with tears as Jungkook holds you there, keeping you from moving.

And as he brushes his fingers on Yoongi’s prostate, your boyfriend starts fucking up into your mouth, and the gag reflex finally comes.

Jungkook lets you pull away then, and you release Yoongi’s dick to take a deep breath, drying the tears that spilled on your cheeks with the back of your hand. And then you’re back to sucking your boyfriend’s dick, swallowing around him whenever you take almost all of him in. He’s a moaning mess, dick turning so hard you think it’ll burst. Both from your ministrations and Jungkook’s, and you want to pull away from Yoongi’s dick to tell Jungkook he’s so good.

He stops you by digging two fingers in your pussy, taking you by surprise. You moan around your boyfriend’s cock, and that’s all it takes to push him over the edge a second time. He doesn’t come as much this time around, but you still swallow every drop until you’re sure you’ve milked his orgasm out of him.

When he’s done, you release his dick with a satisfying plop before turning your head to look at Jungkook. He’s still watching you, and he tilts his head to the side.

“You swallowed everything?”

You nod, obediently pushing your tongue out, widening your jaw to show him your empty mouth. Only then do his fingers leave Yoongi’s asshole, though he fingers you for a few more seconds before he leaves you empty too.

“Not going to make me come?” you tease him as you sit on your heels. “Didn’t you say you wanted to make me come again?”

He surprises you by kissing you instead. And you don’t know what he’s chasing on your lips. You don’t think it’s lust that’s driving him right now. Maybe frustration because he’s ravishing your mouth, marking himself into it. It leaves you shaking when he finally pulls away, and you suck in a deep breath as you share a long look.

You don’t know how to read his eyes. He’s not like Yoongi – you can read Yoongi like every chapter of your favourite book. No, Jungkook is a mystery, undecipherable, an enigma you have yet to find the solution of. So you just hold his big gaze, drown in his depths, until he glances away, looking at Yoongi instead.

“No offense hyung, but I really feel like washing my hands,” he says.

You snort a laugh, and it gains Jungkook’s attention for two seconds without him saying anything. He gets up, and you watch him go, feeling a drop of lead form in your stomach.

You remain kneeling in that spot for a moment, observing the doorway, almost expecting Jungkook to pop in and say a joke, but he doesn’t. So you shrug the awkwardness off, before moving to Yoongi’s side.

“How are you feeling?” you ask him as you lay down, resting your head on his shoulder.

He molds you into his side, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Fucked out,” he answers truthfully, and you share a small laugh. “You?”

“Good,” you reply. “And a little hungry.”

“You didn’t eat enough at dinner?” he teases.

You chuckle. “Oh, I did, but this all made me hungry again.”

He presses another kiss to your temple. “Do you want me to cook you something?”

“I’d feel bad. I think we still have some tangerines, might as well just eat that.”

He nods next to you, but he remains silent. You don’t move, eyes fluttering shut as you listen to the familiar beats of his heart. They’d lull you to sleep if you didn’t know Jungkook was somewhere in the apartment.

Jungkook’s reminder makes your eyes open again, and you watch the doorway.

“Do you think something’s wrong with Jungkook?” you ask, voice small.

Yoongi looks down at you, but you ignore his gaze. “I don’t know? Should we check on him?”

You whine. “I don’t want to move.”

That makes Yoongi laugh, and he presses another kiss to your head. “Well then, let’s hope he comes back soon.”

You nod, wrapping your arm around Yoongi’s waist to hold him close. You’re silent for a few seconds before you ask, “Do you think we should invite him to sleep over? It’s pretty late.”

Yoongi glances at the clock on the bedside table. “Right.” He pauses before answering, “Our bed is not that big”.

He isn’t wrong. “He can take the guest room,” you point out. “I don’t want to kick him out at his hour.”

You feel Yoongi tense under you ever so slightly, but Jungkook is back before you can say anything more. His chest is flushed red, and you notice that he’s already collected his underwear and pants. He’s put them on too, and you suddenly feel shy, still naked under his gaze.

“I’ll let you guys sleep,” he says.

His voice sounds a little strained, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by you or Yoongi.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks, propping himself up on an elbow so he can get a good look at Jungkook.

Jungkook plays with his piercing for a time before shrugging. “You guys are all lovey-dovey, I don’t want to step over the line.”

You sit up. “Come here.”

He looks at Yoongi, and you feel your boyfriend nod more than you see him do it. Only then does Jungkook move, and he sits on the side of the bed.

“Do you want to sleep over?” you ask. “We’ve got room for you in the guest room.”

Jungkook chuckles, shying away from your gaze. “I really think it’d be better for me to go home.”

“Would you rather share a bed?” you suggest because you don’t like the way his shoulders are slouching a little.

This time, you entirely miss how Yoongi stiffens next to you.

“I mean…” Jungkook trails off. He tentatively looks at you before letting his gaze drop back to its safe spot on the ground. “I think that’d be great.”

You offer him a small smile. “Then get comfortable,” you tell him. “Yoongi and I were going to eat a little something…”

“Let me cook for you!” Jungkook bursts. He looks just as surprised as you at how loud he spoke because he lets out a small, sheepish laugh. “I’d love to cook for you guys.”

It makes something grow warm in your chest, and you nod. “Sure! I can show you what we have.” You glance at Yoongi. He meets your gaze, cocks an eyebrow, before shrugging his shoulders.

His way of saying he doesn’t care.

“Sounds good,” Jungkook says, and he finally relaxes.

You’re not sure it’s a good thing when you come back to the bedroom, ten minutes later, to find Yoongi sleeping on his side of the bed, even though he said he’d eat with you. But you decide to let him sleep, mostly because he looks peaceful in his slumber, mouth slightly opened and hair ruffled. You press a soft kiss to his temple, barely even touching him so it doesn’t trouble his sleep, and then you return to the kitchen, where you find Jungkook cutting up a red bell pepper.

He offers you a sweet smile, and you look away, moving to one of the stools by the island. You sit before finally looking at him again.

“Hyung isn’t coming?” he asks, as he focuses on the vegetables on the cutting board.

“He fell asleep,” you answer.

Jungkook shoots you a quick look, and that same smile is still on his lips. It does something to you that really feels like it shouldn’t, and you look down at your hands where they’re lying on the counter. You’re wringing your fingers together, something you usually do when you’re anxious.

Jungkook fucked the shit out of you, and yet a smile from him is making you feel nervous.

“We did fuck two orgasms out of him,” Jungkook points out, and he lets out a small disbelieved laugh.

“I came twice, too,” you remind him, cheeks flushing. “You’re the only one who didn’t come twice.”

His features turn dark and dangerous as a smirk chases the sweetness out of his gaze. “Want to remedy the situation?”

Your throat feels dry as you reply, “Not without Yoongi.”

He nods, and the smirk melts away to be replaced by that same sweet smile. “Of course not. I’d never dare go behind his back.”

The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board fills the air for a time, and you watch the muscles of his forearms move under his skin. He’s quick and efficient, and soon enough, he’s pushing the diced vegetables into the pan on the stove. It was already warm, and with the oil he poured inside before, it’s no wonder the food immediately starts sizzling.

As he takes off the plastic wrapping from the chicken breasts you were dreading to have to cook, Jungkook shoots you a look.

“How’s work been going?” he asks you, clearly in an attempt at making small talk.

You work as a graphic designer at a small, family-owned company. You started years ago, before you even met Yoongi, and you absolutely love it. It offers you a lot of liberties, as you can take off whenever you want, and you can also work from home whenever you want to, which you feel like is the best thing about a job nowadays.

You’re luckier than Yoongi, whose company refuses that he works from home. He still loves what he does, at least from what he tells you. You rarely speak about work though, sharing way too many interests outside of work, that you focus on when you are together.

“It’s been great,” you reply, and you watch his profile as he finally gets the plastic wrap undone. He puts the chicken breasts out on the cutting board before throwing away the wrap and the Styrofoam plate. “How about you? Any cool gigs coming up?”

Jungkook is a model. He started off as a boxer, but he stopped three years ago to focus on other stuff, saying he was tired of beating people up and getting beaten up as a living. As far as you know, he still boxes now, but just for fun.

“If I tell you, you have to promise you’ll keep the secret,” he teases, shooting you a wink. “I had to sign an NDA for my latest gig.”

“Damn,” you let out, chuckling. “You’re getting big.”

He smirks, nodding his head. “Seems like I am.”

To be fair, he was big way before that, as the successful boxer that he was.

“So?” you press when he doesn’t say anything else after that.

He busies himself with cutting the chicken into little cubes, tongue darting out to wet his lips once as he visibly struggles to decide if he should tell you or not. You think it’s a lost cause when he stops to stir the vegetables in the pan, still not saying anything.

“You teased me, and now you’re not going to say it?” you complain.

He giggles, shrugging his shoulders. “You know I like to tease.”

You purse your lips together, your cheeks burning just enough for you to look down at your hands again. You’re wringing your fingers together once more, and you think about Yoongi in bed.

You can’t wait to snuggle up to him.

“That you sure do,” you reply to Jungkook as he finishes with the chicken before adding it to the pan.

The sizzling grows louder, but you still hear him as he says, “And you like it too”.

You run a hand through your hair, pushing it behind your ear as you avoid looking at Jungkook. You feel his eyes on you like they’re burning into your skin, and it takes you a moment before you gather the courage to reply.

“I like you being a tease when Yoongi is around.”

He remains silent for a time. You’re not quite sure how he interpreted your words, but you’re surprised when he finally talks, and what he says is, “I’m sorry”.

At that, you look at him. “What for?”

He plays with his piercing, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know?” He motions between the two of you. “Is this weird?”

“Us talking?” He nods, waiting for you to continue. “I don’t know. Yoongi is… somehow jealous, you know? I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.”

Jungkook is quick to reply. “He’s one of my closest friends. I’d hate making him uncomfortable.”

But now, the silence between you and Jungkook grows awkward, and you avoid his gaze until he returns to cooking, adding gochujang and a bunch of other ingredients to the pan. When he’s done, he turns towards you, though his face is angled towards the ground.

He mutters something that you can’t quite hear over the sound of the food cooking, so you say, “Huh?”

“Calvin Klein,” he repeats a little louder. “My new gig is with Calvin Klein.”

You purse your lips, nodding once. “That sounds… exciting.”

“Not the underwear,” he quickly adds as if you haven’t seen him fully naked twice before. “It’s for their casual clothing line.”

You can’t help the small smile that returns to your lips as you notice how flustered he appears. Clearly, Jungkook is uncomfortable with awkward silences because he starts talking to you about how he got approached, about the shooting, about how one of the reasons why he went to London and Scotland was because he was meeting up with some of their executives at a store opening over there.

He blabbers on long enough for the meal to be ready, and you just listen to him up until he finally puts down a bowl in front of you, which kills his train of thought.

You look down at the food, mouth watering at the smell. “It looks and smells delicious,” you tell him, and the compliment makes him beam.

As expected from someone that has a praising kink, right?

He sits next to you with a bowl for himself, and surprisingly enough, the conversation turns easy as you eat. You laugh along with him, and it feels like your friendship was meant to blossom years ago. Like in another life, you were friends, with a complicity that is rarely matched nowadays.

Except with Yoongi, obviously. What you have with Yoongi is the most precious thing you own, and you know you’ll spend your life with him. After all, you even brought Jungkook into your bedroom life to please him, to offer something that you knew Yoongi was going to love.

And you think he does. It does seem like it, as he’s been more affectionate now. Sometimes, you think it’s a little surprising that he has that side to him, because he’s never really been like that since the honeymoon phase died of its own volution five years ago.

When you’re done eating, you clean the dishes, laughing as Jungkook voluntarily splashes water on you. It turns into a little fight, and you’re both unaware of how loud you’re being. You don’t notice Yoongi leaning against the wall, looking at the two of you with a thoughtful expression on his features. You don’t notice as it turns a little somber, and he returns to the bedroom, feeling like he needs to sleep the feeling off.

He’s convinced it’s going to be better in the morning.

No, you don’t notice any of it, too focused on how Jungkook is now twirling the towel to whip you with it.

“Don’t you dare,” you tell him, holding up your hands between the two of you in mock surrender. You point a finger towards him. “Don’t you dare, Jeon Jungkook. I’ll go get Yoongi, and he’ll beat your ass.”

His mischievous smirk only grows. “I’d like to watch hyung try. I’m the boxer.”

You tilt your head to the side, choosing another approach. “Please, Jungkook.” You offer him your best impression of puppy eyes, but it doesn’t deter him as he takes another step towards you. “I swear to God, if you take another step…”

You never finish your sentence because Jungkook jumps towards you, startling you, and you let out a loud yelp as you run away from him. It’s no surprise when he catches up to you and wraps a strong arm around your middle, which makes you scream again.

“Stop, we’ll wake Yoongi up,” you say, pushing on his arm.

He lets you go, and you turn to look at him again. He avoids your gaze, and all his playfulness is entirely gone, replaced by regret.

“What’s wrong?” you can’t help but ask, even though you know exactly what’s wrong.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he points out, motioning between the two of you. “Gosh, what am I doing?”

He takes a step back, doe eyes widened in fear. You watch him as he drops the towel on the counter, folding his arms on his chest. He then seems infinitely confused, running a hand through his hair and playing with his piercing.

You watch Jungkook’s anxiety happen all in slow motion before you finally speak. “Jungkook, it’s fine. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

At least you don’t think you did. Have you?

“I know, it’s just… maybe we shouldn’t be chilling, just the two of us together without Yoongi-hyung,” he says. “I think it’d be better that way.”

You agree with him, that much you know. You nod, saying, “Sure, JK, that works for me”.

He pulls at his piercing some more, tongue darting out of his mouth to soothe the sting. “I think I’ll hit the guest room for now. Is that okay with you?”

“Of course!” you quickly reply, because you too know that you shouldn't share a bed with Jungkook tonight. You glance towards the hallway leading to the guest room. “Let me just put some fresh sheets on the bed.”

He shakes his head, eyes still widened. “No, it’s okay. Just hand the sheets to me, and I’ll take care of it.”

You don’t know what good it would do you to insist, so you agree and go grab the sheets for him. When you hand them to him, Jungkook looks just as nervous, and he avoids your gaze like the plague.

“Thank you,” he says.

You smile, even though he isn’t looking at you and can’t see. “No problem. I hope you’ll sleep well.”

He nods. “It’s a good thing I’m not sleeping with you guys,” he says rather awkwardly. “I snore. Like a lot. You would have hated it.”

It’s somehow endearing, and it makes you realize just how much it’s good that he indeed isn’t going to sleep with you and Yoongi.

“Oof yeah,” you let out, not knowing what else to say.

He meets your gaze once, nods his head, and then says, “Good night. I’ll let you go with your boyfriend.”

And then he’s hurrying away, disappearing in the hall to get to the guest room he’s already slept in twice before, after dinners you and Yoongi hosted where he got a little too drunk to leave. You watch him go, wondering how it is that life has changed so much that now you and Yoongi are fucking him, which makes you think of nuzzling your face in your boyfriend’s neck as you sleep.

It’s a relieving feeling, and you sigh softly before moving back to the sink, where you quickly finish doing the dishes before heading to your bedroom, turning off the lights on the way. You tiptoe in semi-darkness as you enter your room after a quick trip to the bathroom to wash yourself and brush your teeth. You take off the shirt you’re wearing before getting rid of your underwear as you move closer to the bed.

You carefully get in, moving until you can pull the comforter over you before you decide to roll closer to Yoongi. He’s a side sleeper, and he’s facing the wall away from you, but you still cuddle up to him, pressing a kiss on his back. You don’t think he’s awake, and you hesitantly wrap an arm around his waist. He feels a little stiff, until he sighs and grabs your hand.

“You’re not sleeping?” you ask in a whisper.

“No.”

You snuggle closer then. “I’m sorry if Jungkook and I were loud,” you say after a moment of silence. “We didn’t realize, and then we both felt bad.”

He doesn’t say anything, just brushes his thumb on the side of your hand. It makes your heart constrict in your chest even more, guilt seeping into your bones.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat.

“It’s okay,” he says then. “It’s normal if you guys grow more comfortable around each other after we’ve had sex. I’m glad that you get along with him.”

You don’t know what to reply to this. All you can do is press another kiss to the back of his shoulder. “You know I love you, right?”

You can hear the smile when he answers, “I know you do”.

“If you want us to keep the relationship just to bedroom stuff, I’d understand.”

He grabs your hand, and pulls it up to his mouth so he can press a soft kiss to your knuckles. “It’s okay, baby. It really is.”

You nod against him. “Alright. Okay.”

There’s another long silence, and you’re expecting him to have fallen asleep by the time he actually says, “Maybe we should establish some ground rules before next time?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” you whisper against your boyfriend’s warm skin. “Just to make sure everyone is comfortable.” At that, Yoongi chuckles. “What?” you ask.

“And you need to stop trying to make him fuck me, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want it,” Yoongi answers, and you feel your cheeks burn.

“Gosh, I’m just trying to make you feel good,” you mumble.

Yoongi laughs again, and he turns until he’s lying on his back. “I know you are.”

“Are you?”

He presses a kiss to your forehead this time. “I am. I hope you are too.”

You snort, scooching even closer to him, if that’s possible. “Of course I am.”

“Cause he fucks you good?”

“Yoons,” you whine. “You fuck me just as good.” You pause before specifying, “You guys together fuck me good.”

“Of course we do,” Yoongi says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

It makes you chuckle, and you prop yourself up on an elbow, one hand blindly searching for his cheek. Once you’ve cupped it, you lean in, aiming for his lips. You land on the corner of them, yet you still press a sweet kiss.

“I love you so much, Yoons,” you breathe against him.

He turns his head slightly, just enough so that your mouths connect and move in unison for a time, the way they’ve always moved together. When the kiss ends, Yoongi says, “I know. Love you too.”

Even though you’ve heard him say it a thousand times before, your heart still melts in your chest, going just a little faster.

You lie back down, putting your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around you. Though you’ve never been a couple that’s big on cuddling to fall asleep, you still find yourself slowly dozing off like this, the constant and rhythmic beats of his heart slowly dragging you to the land of sweet dreams.

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 10 months ago

Text

BakuDeku Smut: Hooking Up At A Pro Hero Gala

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Izuku Midoriya x Katsuki Bakugo

Note: This is explicit so A18+ ONLY!!

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Semi-Public Sex

cw: MDNI!, adult Pro-heros, all characters are A20+, blowjobs, slow burn, semi-public sex, hooking up, hair pulling, mentions of drinking and partying, dirty talk, explicit content, romance

The first time Katsuki sucks Izuku’s dick – it’s at one of those stupid press Hero galas.

Katsuki has just hit 15 on the Hero chart – he’s getting so damn close to the top 10 he can almost taste it. Izuku is only a few spots ahead of him at number 13. Despite the constant competition to snatch a top spot on the chart, the two are close as ever. Having put aside their longstanding childhood rivalry, they now run their own Pro Hero Agency together and are rapidly climbing the ranks of hero society as a team.

As usual, after the new hero rankings are released, the annual press night and celebratory gala follow. At age 24, Katsuki has now been to a handful of these events and knows the drill - dress up in a sharp tux, grace the red carpet step and repeat, schmooze with the hero business and support agency staff, etc. He finds the whole affair boring, but knows how important events like these are to his brand and his image in the media. Begrudgingly he has realized that the public’s opinion contributes a lot to his success as a hero.

Katsuki has arrived early at Izuku’s request. The green haired hero is always doing things by the book, and insists that they represent their Agency in the best way possible. So now here they are, seated next to one another at their Hero Agency’s table. Izuku looks sharp and handsome in his tailored forest green tuxedo. His dark bowtie is slightly askew, reminding Katsuki fondly of the way Izuku could never figure out how to properly put on his UA uniform tie. The explosion hero watches Izuku pour himself a glass of water and wishes he could grab his friend by the tie and pull him in for a deep kiss. He lets his fantasies run wild for a moment – he imagines kissing a bare freckled shoulder and hearing Izuku moan his name. He pictures a warm bed and skin that’s rough and sore to the touch after too many hours spent training together. He’s visualizing a life where two best friends can be…something more. Something absolute. He’s pulled from his fantasies as he hears Izuku’s sweet laugh bubbling up to his left.

He turns to see Izuku talking animatedly to a pretty member of their support staff as he butters a dinner role. The staff member is pretty and wearing a form-fitting gown that is a bit too low cut to be appropriate for a work event. She is flirting gratuitously as she tosses her dark brown hair over her shoulders and all but squishes her generous breasts together to put them on display. Izuku blushes faintly and tries to focus on her face, but his eyes keep wandering down to her lavish chest.

“Mr. Midoriya, you’ll need to show me that new move you’re working on!” She gushes, touching his arm. “I’ve heard so much about it!”

“Anytime! You should come to the training gym at the Agency tomorrow and I’ll walk you through it.” Izuku says smoothly, ignoring the woman’s the sexual subtext. “We just renovated the gymnasium floors with AstroTurf so it’s much easier to move around and train now.”

“I’d love to! I’ll clear my schedule – how’s 2pm work?” She swirls a martini high as she rests her pretty face in the palm of her other hand. She gently bats her eyelashes up at Izuku.

“It’s a date!” Izuku declares, taking a bite of his bread.

A fiery tongue of jealousy licks at Katsuki’s belly as he watches the two of them flirt. He crosses his arms and takes a look around the rest of the room – seeing colleges and classmates alike begin to take seats at their various assigned tables. He should spare his feelings by getting up to chat with his friends Kirishima and Sero, who are standing only a dozen feet away by the bar. As he gets up to leave, he hears the big-chested brunette propose another date be added to Izuku’s calendar:

“Actually, why wait until tomorrow? There’s so much we have to discuss, why don’t we grab a drink after the gala? I know a cute little sake bar a few blocks over. We can cozy up at the bar and discuss all of your favorite moves.” She’s laying it on thick, and Katsuki is pissed to see that it’s working on his friend.

Izuku takes a deep swig from his water glass before answering. “That would be great – I’ve been meaning to get out and see more of the town! I’ve been a bit too in the weeds with work and training lately. It would be nice to take a little break from work and enjoy some company.” He flashes the woman his winning Pro Hero smile and she practically swoons.

“Here – let me get your number so I can text you the address. We can meet up after the final photo opp!” She hastily passes her phone – an iPhone covered in bright green and black charms. Katsuki stands up angrily – he’s seen enough.

“Deku, can I talk to you about something? Agency stuff.” Izuku’s head snapped around at the seriousness of Katsuki’s tone. He frowns at Katsuki’s dark expression.

“Yeah – of course.” Izuku gets up from the table and apologizes to the woman, promising to return to their conversation shortly. He leaves her sitting there holding out her phone, a defeated expression lines her pretty features. The jealous demon in Katsuki’s chest purrs at the sight.

Izuku follows Katsuki past their friends and out of the ballroom. They wander the halls for a moment.

When he’s sure they’re far from prying eyes and ears, Katsuki rounds on Izuku.

“So what – you’re dating her now?!” Katsuki demands, a little more harshly than he had intended.

“W-well she did ask me for a drink after this, and I said yes.” Izuku stutters out, before his eyes turn defiant. “Why do you care? She’s sweet and you said just yesterday that she designs the best support items you’ve used this year.”

“You idiot, you can’t go dating employees!” Katsuki scowls, crossing his arms defensively.

“Kacchan – she’s an independent contractor. She doesn’t report directly into me, you know that. And we’re not getting married or anything – she just asked me to a drink.” His bright green eyes narrow and he leans forward a bit, assessing Katsuki’s dim expression. “What’s this really about Kacchan?”

“I-I…” Katsuki can’t put his feelings into words. He hadn’t planned ahead this far – his hotheadedness had once again taken the reins of his body and mind, leaving little room for logic. He briefly flounders, seeing how he may have majorly messed up here. After all, Izuku was allowed to date whoever he pleased. Katsuki had no right to meddle in his friends’ love affairs unless Izuku straight up asked his opinion. His palms begin to sweat and he breathes deeply to keep himself from activating his quirk. After a moment, he has mastered his temper and feels himself become more level. His palms begin to dry.

Katsuki looks nervously around and spots an empty dressing room to the side of the stage entrance. He hastily shoves Izuku through the door – whatever’s about to be discussed isabsolutely not for the ears of the press and all of the extras lingering about. He shuts it behind them and clicks the lock, ensuring the rest of their conversation will be blessedly private.

“I don’t want you dating that chick. That’s what this is about.” He scowls, dropping himself into the red makeup chair and swiveling to face his best friend. Izuku remains standing.

“Do you have a good reason? Let me guess – she’s some kind of freak villain in disguise and you’re ‘trying to protect me.’ You already used that excuse once, Kacchan, and I was dumb enough to believe you the first time.” Izuku cocks his head to the left, looking up into Katsuki’s dark eyes searchingly. “I appreciate the concern. But just because we’re childhood friends and we spend practically every waking moment together running this agency, that doesn’t mean you get to dictate who I date.” Izuku’s ember eyes burn fiercely.

Their eyes lock as they stare each other down, challenging. Katsuki makes the mistake of glancing down at Izuku’s lips, breaking their tense eye contact.

“Look, Deku. Izuku.” He corrects himself, falling into an almost two decade-old habit of calling his friend by a demeaning nickname. He only uses the Pro Hero name Deku in battle and at press events now, as a sign of respect. Izuku looks up at him questioningly, awaiting an explanation.

Damn it all – there’s only one way to clear this up. It’s something Katsuki has been putting off for a while. He knew eventually it would come to this – and he’s nearly quaking in his designer combat boots as he rises and takes a step towards his friend. He takes a deep - albeit shaky – breath.

“Izuku…this is why I don’t want you dating any of those girls.” And throwing caution to the wind, Katsuki reaches out to grab Izuku’s face and bring it jerkily to his own. Their lips crash together with bruising force and - for once - Izuku shuts up.

They’ve done this a few times – made out. It’s happened maybe 5 times in all across the past 2 years. 3 of these times took place after long tipsy nights out at the bar with their friends, when the alcohol got them both a little horny and antsy to make bad decisions. 1 time was in Izuku’s office after a particularly fierce battle – office door locked, both had still been high on adrenaline and the searing kisses seemed like the perfect release. And the last time…well, that had been a few weeks ago.

It had taken place at Izuku’s 24th birthday and all of Class 1A had gathered to celebrate. The power in Izuku’s spacious apartment had gone out and, grumbling, Katsuki had followed the green-haired hero down to the basement to reset the circuit breaker. The duo had bickered a bit before finally fixing the breaker using Katsuki’s cell phone flashlight. As the lights came back on, Katsuki had realized with a start how close he was to Izuku’s face. Seemingly without thinking, Izuku had closed his eyes and leaned forward to capture Katsuki’s mouth with his own. It was the beginning of the night so they were both stone sober, so this had been first time they had kissed without being inebriated or high on adrenaline. The short kiss had melted Katsuki’s heart in a way he wouldn’t have expected it to. After a gentle moment, Izuku had broken away and whispered “that’s the only birthday present I really wanted.” Then he had turned on his heel to sprint up the basement stairs and to rejoin the party. Katsuki stood there for a few moments, stunned. His tried deep breathing to master his nerves, but it was no use. His head was up in the clouds and his thoughts were wrapped around a glowing image of Izuku Midoriya and his lips. He touched his mouth slowly and thought “Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. My motherfucking goddamn asshole of a heart.” And ever since, he had been hopelessly, head over heals in fucking love with Izuku Midoriya.

Here’s the thing - they have never discussed That Kiss. Some days it seemed like a dirty little secret between them. On other days, when work was slow and Katsuki was relaxed – it felt like an oath. A promise. Their paths had always been intertwined – so of course it would make sense for them to be together in the romantic sense. Bakugo and Midoriya – their fates interlaced and tied in a bow with a pretty red string.

Katsuki had been agonizing over it all since the event – how did one broach the subject of being in love with their best friend and business partner? Had Izuku really meant it? Was it all secretly a dark and twisted prank to trick Katsuki into looking a fool? Katsuki was 99% certain it wasn’t the latter. But, then again, how could he be sure?

Baguko snaps his thoughts back to the present, where a startled Izuku’s lips are pressed against his own. His body feels with warmth as Izuku makes a soft noise in surprise at the kiss. After a moment, he shuts his eyes and surrendering himself over to Katsuki’s body.

Katsuki pulls his friend closer so that their bodies are flush – he can feel every plane of hard, taught muscle beneath the thin fabric of Izuku’s tuxedo. He wants his hands everywhere – on Izuku’s chest, his thighs, the broad expanse of his back – but instead he just holds onto the Hero’s face like he’s a drowning man, and Izuku’s mouth is the sweet kiss of life.

Their lips move together urgently, needy. Katsuki’s fingers grip Izuku’s jaw with an almost-bruising force, and Izuku winds his arms around Katsuki’s neck with just as much gusto. They slide their mouths together comfortably like that for a while. If Izuku has reservations about this arrangement, he doesn’t speak them. He just lets Katsuki kiss down his jawline and alongside his neck as he sighs appreciatively.

They make out like that for a while, but it’s different from all of their other stolen kisses. This time, it carries meaning. Katsuki doesn’t want Izuku dating other people, he wants him all for himself. Izuku’s head spins with the revelation – never in a million years did he think his friend would actually admit that to him. Of course he had sneaking suspicions about Kacchan’s feelings over the years – Katsuki often let his eyes wander freely across Izuku’s body in their shared Agency locker room – but he had never in his wildest dreams expected Kacchan to verbally admit that his need for Izuku went beyond that of friendship. In fact, Izuku was finally starting to move on, tired of pining for Kacchan. He had been trying to go on more dates and to meet other people to see if he could pull his poor heart away from the gorgeously imposing figure that is Katsuki Bakugo.

Izuku’s mind speed runs through each time they’ve kissed, ending at this exact moment. Yeah, the energy is different here. He’s sure of it. He lets his hands run along the thick muscles of Katsuki’s shoulders and his brain fuzzily whispers “Mine, all mine.”

Quite suddenly, Katsuki drops to his knees and quickly starts undoing his friend’s belt.

“W-what are you doing, Kacchan!?” Izuku sputters in alarm, moving to push Katsuki away. But his brain is all wooly and his awkward limbs feel like jelly. All he manages to grab is the collar of Katsuki’s smart tux coat.

“I’m giving you a damn blowjob, idiot. ‘Gotta show you what you can’t get from anyone else.” Damn Kacchan – always going above and beyond in every challenge he takes on. And with that, Katsuki pulls Izuku’s leather belt free in one swift motion. He casts it to the floor before moving to unbutton the green-haired hero’s pants. As soon as he works the button loose, the tailored slacks slide to the floor, revealing a clean black pair of boxers. Izuku swallows hard and makes a stammering noise – but he doesn’t move cover his erection. Katsuki admires it with relish, and maybe a little hunger. He licks his lips like the big bad wolf, about to blow down some shoddily made houses.

“Huh.” Katsuki smiles roguishly, eyeing Izuku’s boxers appreciatively. “Seems like you want me bad.”

Izuku looks down and his already flushed face becomes even redder. His freckles have almost disappeared beneath the full blooming blush that’s dancing across his face. His boner is clearly outlined against his underwear and throbbing desperately for attention. If he weren’t so turned on, he would die from embarrassment.

“Am I making you hard?” Katsuki whispers menacingly, drawing his fingertip lightly up the outline of Izuku’s cock, which twitches longingly at the contact. Katsuki cackles softly, his hands moving up to caress the hard “V” Izuku’s muscles make along his waistline before dipping beneath the thin black fabric. Katsuki moves his fingertip up to his friend’s bellybutton, before tracing it down the delicate happy train that disappears into his boxers. Izuku shivers at the contact, goose bumps appearing across his pale, toned stomach.

Katsuki looks up into Izuku’s shining face and sees that his friend’s pupils are blown wide with desire. The way his freckles are flushed is so ridiculously sexy, and he’s biting his lip in a way that’s practically sinful.

“Kacchan…” he whispers uncertainly, and Katsuki softens.

“Listen, Izuku.” The use of Midoriya’s given name brings them both back to Earth. “I won’t do this if you don’t want to. Just say the word and we can forget this ever happened and go back to that stupid party in the ballroom.”

Izuku gulps, moving to run his fingers through Katsuki’s hair. The blonde leans into the touch, sighing despite himself.

“When I kissed you on my birthday…you never said anything. I thought you didn’t want me like this.”

“Of course I want you.” Katsuki breathes, getting to his feet. “This whole goddamn time.”

Katsuki stands a few inches taller than Izuku. He brings his hand up to caress the side of Izuku’s soft freckled jaw before closing the distance between them to kiss his best friend firmly on the lips.

“Do you think all those times we’ve kissed over the past few years were just because we were drunk or trying to blow off steam? We keep coming back to each other.”

Izuku’s mouth crinkles into a huge grin. He thinks back to the first time they kissed in an alleyway as they walked home from a bar. The feeling of Katsuki’s breath mingling with his own had caused his heart to leap in a way it never had before. Then their second make out session that had occurred a few hours into Mina’s birthday party. Their hands had touched reaching for the same bottle of booze, leading the pair to hide in Denki’s room under the guise of looking for a lost wallet. Katsuki had kissed him so hard and so fiercely that Izuku had been hot and bothered about it for months.

In the present, the Pro Hero steadies his breath, looking up into his friends’ surprisingly earnest face. “Kacchan, you sound so corny…”

“Oh shut up already, dammit.” Katsuki practically growls, dipping back to capture Izuku’s mouth in a more needy kiss. Their lips melt together in a frantic pattern and Katsuki pulls his friend’s body against his own again. They fit together like puzzle pieces, and can feel each other’s arousals plainly. Izuku groans softly when Katsuki rolls his hips. After a moment, Katsuki realizes that despite the locked door, they are still very much in a public place. Izuku’s trousers are awkwardly pooled around his feet. The blonde pulls away and laughs openly at the absurdness of the situation.

“Listen, nerd.” He says, but his voice is laced with affection. “Why don’t we go back to my place and figure all of this out?” The question is soft with warmth.

Izuku looks at him for a moment, his eyes hazy.

“But Kacchan…” Izuku wraps his arms around Katsuki’s shoulders, sliding fingers up the base of his neck and into Katsuki’s thick hair. The explosion hero gets goose bumps at the touch. He never realized how much he likes his hair being touched.

“We really need to fulfill our Pro Hero duties at this party. Our agency depends on it. And if we both leave together…” Izuku trails off.

“…It might look a little suspicious.” Katsuki finishes for him. Damn, the nerd had a point there.

“Ugh, you know I hate these goddamn parties.” Katsuki says harshly. “Sometimes being a Pro feels so fake. We get paraded in front of cameras and it makes me feel like a piece of meat.”

“I know.” Izuku consoles, continuing to stroke Katsuki’s soft hair. The gentle touch feels so good that Katsuki almost shuts his eyes. He never realized how starved he was for touch. He wants Izuku – all of him – so damn much. Screw this party and the press.

“But this is important. You know how important our image is. And how we look in the press doesn’t just impact us – think about all of our employees at the agency. Their jobs are interwoven with our media presence.” Izuku mutters, forever the voice of reason.

Katsuki knew all of this – and of course he wanted to take care of the people at their agency. He wouldn’t often admit it out loud, but he was fond of all of the people they employed on the day to day. Their team was amazing and did one hell of a job supporting their Pro Heros and sidekicks. He sighs.

“I know.” He plants another kiss on Izuku’s mouth. “So…let’s compromise. Here’s how this is gonna go…” Katsuki licks his lips and reaches down to brace his large hands on Izuku’s narrow hips. “I’m going to give you an orgasm that’s going to blow your fucking mind. Then you’re going to clean yourself up, put your pants back on and go out there cancel your goddamn sake date with that chick.”

“Kacchan – oh!” He knows Izuku is going to admonish him for wanting to do something so dirty in public, so Katsuki starts to kiss and suck at the sensitive spot on the green haired Pro’s neck to shut him up. Izuku moans softly and it’s like music to the explosion hero’s ears.

“You’re such a goodie two shoes.” Katsuki breathes as he rolls his hips into Izuku’s. The shorter hero’s pelvis automatically bucks in response.

“I know.” Izuku practically whines as Katsuki unbuttons his starched shirt and continues to kiss along his shoulder. Once he’s undone a few buttons, the explosion hero dips his hand between them and begins to palm at Izuku’s hard dick over his boxer shorts.

All Izuku can say is “oh!”

Katsuki stops and pulls away, giving his friend a break. “It’s your call. Say the word and we can stop. I think I can manage to wait until after this goddamn party is over.”

Izuku lets out a shaky sigh and brings up his wrist to check his watch. He starts to lapse into his characteristic mutter - “Okay so it’s still happy hour for networking, so dinner and speeches don’t begin for another half hour. That means that as long as we make ourselves presentable by 8pm we should be good. We can even be a few minutes late because the opening remarks typically run over the allotted time so-”

“- So that’s a yes?” Katsuki cuts him off and rolls his eyes as Izuku snaps back to reality.

Izuku smiles up at him. He’s got that fierce look of Pro Hero determination in his eyes and it makes Katsuki’s stomach drop.

“Yeah, Kacchan. It’s a yes.”

And that’s all the answer Katsuki needs. In a flash, he’s back on his knees and his heart is beating double time. The time constraint is making the whole situation even more goddamn hot and Katsuki takes another deep, steadying breath before he moves forward. He counts to ten, and once his mind is a bit clearer he hooks his thumbs into the elastic of Izuku’s boxers. He slides the material fluidly down his friend’s toned, slim hips. Izuku’s hard cock bounces free and stands at attention. His dick is beautiful – about 6 inches in length and just the right amount of thickness around. With how unkempt the hair on top of his head always seems, Katsuki is surprised to see how well groomed Izuku keeps his pelvic area. He’s neatly primed and looking fresh. Izuku blushes an impossibly deeper red as he towers above his friend. You could fry an egg on the Pro’s face.

Katsuki feels his own pants tighten at the sight of Izuku’s fully erect cock. He shifts and reaches down to adjust himself to a more comfortable position. Izuku takes notice and audaciously says “like what you see?”

“Ugh, shut up!” Katsuki feels a blush creeping across his face, and Izuku grins down at him. He reminds himself that now’s not the time to be embarrassed – not when he’s promised a mind-blowing orgasm to his best friend.

Katsuki licks his lips in anticipation for what he’s about to do. He’s never given someone head before, but he’s seen some porn and fantasized about this enough to know the basics. Katsuki smiles to himself – he always prides himself at being the best. Blowjobs are just another skill waiting to be added to his already long roster.

He reaches out and takes Izuku’s cock in his hand. He marvels at how soft it feels, and experimentally gives the thick member a slow pump. Izuku groans at the motion, his hips flexing involuntarily. Katsuki grins wickedly and continues the gesture, reveling in the gentle throb he elicits from his friend’s dick. After a few moments, he stops to spit cleanly into his palm for some lubricant. The resulting glide the hand job gains is not lost on Izuku. The shorter hero moans at the smooth touch.

Katsuki leans forward and runs his tongue around the cock’s tip a few times. Izuku whimpers at the teasing. For a brief moment, Katsuki wonders if Izuku has ever had his dick sucked before. He fleetingly thinks that he is about to knock whatever past sexual experiences Izuku has had out of the park. He is confident whatever he is about to do to his friend will be far superior to any past illicit affairs.

The explosion hero takes his friend’s dick into his mouth slowly, sucking on the head. Izuku groans and Katsuki takes that as encouragement to keep going, sliding the hard member a few more inches into his hot wet mouth.

“Kacchan…this is just…wow.” Izuku stutters out, as Katsuki uses his hand to pump the base of Izuku’s cock. He slides another inch into his mouth before he hollows out his cheeks and sucks, pulling his mouth quickly off of his friend’s cock before sliding back down. He continues the motions, gaining a steady pace and causing Izuku’s breath to become more and more ragged. Even with all of his training, the Pro hero’s legs are shaking, and his knees start to buckle. Katsuki stops what he’s doing to check in with his partner – “You doing alright up there?”

“Yeah.” Izuku says, his voice shaky. He wipes some sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “It’s intense.”

Katsuki grins and hauls himself up to kiss Izuku before pushing the shorter man against the wall.

“I’ll make it a little easier on ya.” He gets back to his knees and with no effort swings one of Izuku’s legs over his shoulder. “I’ve got you.”

Izuku sighs and threads his fingers back into Katsuki’s thick blonde hair. The explosion hero groans as Izuku lightly pulls on a few strands.

This reaction seems to push Izuku over the edge – because when Katsuki finds the right angle to wrap his mouth back around his friend’s cock, the green haired hero is already summiting the peak of pleasure. His hips buck lightly towards Katsuki, and working together they are able to find the perfect rhythm to bring Izuku past the point of no return.

“K-k-Kacchan!” Izuku whispers through gritted teeth, his eyes half closed and rolling back as he reaches orgasm. Katsuki keeps going – he’s holding up Izuku’s toned ass with one hand as he continues to suck with a steady pace. With his free hand, he oscillates between pumping the base of Izuku’s dick and fondling his balls.

Izuku tightens his grip on Katsuki’s head and pulls the blonde’s hair hard. Katsuki almost cums in his pants at the sharp tug. He has never realized how much he likes getting his hair pulled. He had also never in his fantasizes thought that Izuku might be one for hair pulling – but damn does it make sense. As Izuku jerks a lock of his hair again, Katsuki involuntarily lets out a moan. The vibrations from his moaning send a shiver across Izuku’s already over-stimulated body. It seems to be just the thing he needs to climax.

“K-Kacchan…ah!...I-I’m gonna…” Izuku groans out, and attempts to pull his dick away from Katsuki so he can cum. Not a chance. Katsuki remains steadfast, licking and sucking like his life depends on it.

He holds onto Izuku’s bucking hips with a vice grip, and when the Hero cums it’s right into Katsuki’s waiting mouth. Katsuki almost splutters and coughs at the foreign feeling of the sticky fluid flowing down his throat, but he masters himself. Years of training and discipline have given him hard-earned control over his body and mind. After a moment of uncertainty, he’s gulping down the hot liquid greedily. He lets Izuku ride out his high as the green-haired Pro Hero shoots ropes of hot cum down his friend’s throat.

“Kacchan. Oh, God!” Is all Izuku can say as he thrusts into Katsuki’s mouth. His cock slowly looses its vigor and becomes too sensitive. He yelps as Katsuki pulls his mouth off the length with a sharp smack of his lips.

Katsuki smiles smugly as he lowers Izuku back to the ground and wipes off his mouth with the back of his hand. His friend’s legs are wobbly, and with difficulty Izuku pulls on his boxers. Clothed again, he sinks down to sit with his back against the locked door.

“So?” Katsuki smiles as he reaches down to adjust his cock in his tuxedo pants. He’s so painfully hard, but he still takes the time to gloat. “Best you’ve ever had, right?”

“Y-yeah.” Izuku lets out a shaky laugh. “You were right – definitely blew my mind.”

After a moment of catching his breath, the Pro Hero notices his friend’s discomfort. “Kacchan – come over here.”

Katsuki hadn’t realized that he had been keeping his distance from Izuku just to admire him coming down from his high. Awkwardly, he shuffles to sit next to his agency partner. Izuku’s eyes are heavy and his face is covered in a sexy sheen of sweat. He quickly glances at his watch. “We’ve still got 10 minutes, Kacchan – lose the pants.”

Katsuki doesn’t need telling twice. He lets out a tense breath before hastily undoing his own belt and trouser buttons. Within seconds, he’s sitting in his bright underwear, cursing himself for wearing such an obnoxiously vibrant orange under his dress clothes for the event. But really - how could he have anticipated that he was going to get laid tonight!?

Izuku lazily runs his hand along Katsuki’s clothed length, and once again the explosion hero needs to re-focus his mind to avoid cumming then and there. Izuku’s eyes are large and unfocused; he’s still absolutely undone from his orgasm. He takes his sweet time teasing Katsuki – running his finger lightly along the delicate skin under the boxers’ elastic. Katsuki’s cock twitches beneath the thin fabric of the boxers – begging to be touched.

Without warning, Izuku’s hand makes it’s way beneath Katsuki’s boxers and frees his hard, tense member. Katsuki gasps at the sudden contact, almost disbelieving that Izuku intends to make him cum. Izuku takes a moment to admire his friends’ cock. “You know…I never imagined it would be this big.”

“Shut up, nerd.” Katsuki snaps as Izuku starts to jerk him off at a painfully slow pace. He’s glowing at the compliment despite himself. Before long, Izuki is pumping Katsuki’s thick cock in a way that’s making the explosion Hero see stars.

“Dek-Izuku.” Katsuki breathes, encouraging Izuku to go faster. The green haired hero quirks his mouth into a lazy smile as he obliges, he’s clearly still fuzzy from his own orgasm. Katsuki pants as his heart does zigzags in his chest. He leans back and closes his eyes, focusing on the sensation of his best friend jerking him off.

“You know, Kacchan…” Izuku says mischievously. “I never guessed you would be so into-” With his free hand, Midoriya grabs a fist full of Katsuki’s hair and pulls his head back. “-this.”

Katsuki moans deliciously at the sudden contact, all his toughness and bravado have melted away. He wants more – he wants Midoriya to keep pulling his hair and talking dirty to him. He wants to feel every little sensation his friend is willing to give. As Izuku continues to tease and pull and indulge his friend, Katsuki feels his body tensing up with pleasure. He’s about to tip over the edge of overstimulation when…Izuku’s mouth wraps around him. The noise that comes out of Katsuki’s mouth is a mix between a cry of surprise and a growl.

Izuku pushes his lips slowly down Katsuki’s shaft as he continues to move his hand up and down at the base. Inch by inch, Izuku rolls his mouth down until the entirety of Katsuki’s cock is throbbing against his tongue. He stays there for a moment, letting his partner get used to the sensation of being fully sheathed.

The only sound that can be heard in the dimly lit room are Katsuki’s rasping breaths and the gentle hum of conversation that drifts toward them from the filled ballroom.

After a few tense moments, Katsuki’s hips buck lightly and the tip of his cock hits the back of Izuku’s throat. Izuku breathes through his nose, adjusting to the motion with practiced ease. Katsuki’s heart ricochets even more in his chest – has Deku been a secret master at deep throating this whole time!?

He doesn’t have time to dwell on the question – because suddenly Izuku is sucking Katsuki’s soul out of his body via his dick. The green haired man is slurping and licking and making the sloppiest, sexiest sounds Katsuki has ever heard come from a human body.

“Ah…s-slow down…I’m gonna -” Katsuki groans out in a low voice. He’s never felt anything like this in his life, and he needs to remind himself to keep breathing. Izuku re-threads his hand in Katsuki’s hair again and pulls hard. All of the stimulation has the explosion Pro crying out in both pain and pleasure and without warning his body releases all of it’s pent up energy and he cums – hard and fast.

“Izuku!” He grunts loudly, not caring whom from the gala might hear. When Katsuki cums, Izuku slides his mouth all the way to the top of his cock and licks the impossibly aroused tip. Katsuki watches in bliss as his ejaculate pours down Izuku’s tongue and drips down his chin. Izuku uses his hand to pump the hard dick to completion, before bending back down to lick his friend’s cock clean. Katsuki moans softly at the contact – his cock is twitching and impossibly over stimulated. Nevertheless, Izuku’s mouth feels impossibly good as it moves up and down Katsuki’s sticky shaft.

Bakugo drops his head back against the wall again, catching his breath. Through heavy eyelids he watches Izuku reach for his abandoned tuxedo pants and draw a green handkerchief from the pocket. He wipes his sticky mouth smugly, knowing that Katsuki is still watching him like a hawk.

“Have you done that before?” Katsuki says, a note of jealousy lacing his harsh tone.

Izuku smiles at him, revealing nothing.

“You cheeky bastard.” Katsuki admonishes, but he still puts an arm around Izuku and pulls their bodies together gently. Izuku drops his pants back to the floor and leans in to give his best friend a long, sloppy kiss. They are both sex-drunk and blissed out and impossibly content as they lean against each other – Izuku in his underwear and Katsuki naked from the waist down.

Katsuki thinks to himself that the image must be comical – two top Pro Heros absolutely wrecked and hiding a few doors down from the biggest party of the year, covered in sweat and cum. A laugh bubbles out of him at the thought. Izuku smiles up at him with those big green doe eyes and starts laughing too. Katsuki can’t decide what’s more hilarious – the position they’re in, or the fact that it took them so many years to do this.

After a moment of laughter, Izuku checks his infamous watch.

“We really should get back, Kacchan.” He reaches for his trousers and awkwardly wiggles back into them, his shaking hands struggling to get the buttons done. Katsuki likewise reaches for his undies and stands to pull them back on. He sighs a simple “yeah.”

He stretches out a hand to pull his friend to his feet before reaching down to re-button Izuku’s pants for him. “Thanks.” Izuku laughs as he tries to pat fresh wrinkles out of his suit.

Katsuki’s legs feel like jelly as he struggles to pull his own pants back on. His heart is still doing a fizzy macarena dance in his muscular chest. He does a few jumps in place, trying to shake all of the buzzing energy out of his body. It’s time to get back to work.

He reaches for the lock on the door, and is surprised when Izuku’s hand reaches out to rest on his own. He looks back at his agency partner with questioning eyes. Katsuki narrows his eyebrows as he says, “Weren’t you the one that said we needed to get back for all of the dumb speeches?”

Izuku ignores the question. “So what do we do now?” He says softly, almost fearfully.

Katsuki removes his hand from the door and turns it so that Izuku’s palm is resting in his own. He interlocks their fingers.

“I figured that was obvious. Or are you too stupid to figure it out?” He ejects – maybe a bit too harshly. Izuku blinks. Dammit, this nerd will be the death of him!

Katsuki continues: “You’re going to walk out there and break off your date with that support chick.” Katsuki pulls Izuku to his chest and leans down to kiss his soft lips. “We’re going to sit through this stupid dinner party. And then we’re taking a cab back to my place to finish what we’ve started.” He kisses the other Pro harder this time, letting their lips melt together. He raises a hand to cup Izuku’s cheek in a gesture that is too intimate for a run-of-the-mill hookup. Izuku understands.

“So we’ll talk about this later. We’ll finally figure out what we are to each other?” Izuku says softly as he breaks the kiss.

“I think we already know what we are, you damn nerd. But if you need me to spell it out for you-” He takes yet another steadying breath. “– we’re together. We’re a thing. Just don’t get all weird about it like you do.” But it’s too late, because Izuku has already shifted into his characteristic babble mode.

“Oh my God! Of course we’re together. I mean, I’ve liked you since school! I always thought that you were just annoyed with me until we became close at the end of our first year. And then all those times we kissed and the other times I caught you looking at me in the Agency locker room – and that time you took Ochako on a date for some reason but we all knew you didn’t give a crap about her romantically. I had a feeling you liked me. But this – this is - ” Izuku is muttering nonstop and Katsuki cuts him off with a smooth, hard kiss.

“Izuku. There’ll be time to talk about all this shit later.” He reaches over to tap his partner’s watch. “We’re running late now, dammit. Come on – let’s get out of here.”

And they do. They go on to the gala in the ballroom where they spend the entirety of the night exchanging conspiratorial glances and soft smiles. And when awards are announced and they win Agency of the Year, the pair practically glows as they straighten their ties and walk up to the stage together.

“This award means the world to us.” Izuku chirps brightly into the microphone, accepting a gold trophy from last year’s Agency of the Year recipient. “To be recognized at such a young age by such a prestigious panel of Pros. Sorry if I get a little emotional – this is a dream come true. Thank you to all of our fans and friends for believing in us and helping us to shape our agency into a true force for good. And to my partner, Katsuki Bakugo, thank you for believing in me and for challenging me to be my best everyday and in every situation.” Katsuki blushes as he picks up on the subtext. Izuku pays him no mind as he finishes off his speech. “There’s no one else I’d rather share this moment with.”

It’s Bakugo’s turn now, and he almost rolls his eyes when he sees how watery Izuku is looking – he’s clutching the trophy as if it’s made of solid gold.

Katsuki leans into the microphone and says “I told you all at the UA Sports Festival my first year – I’m going to be the best. And I did it.” He mean mugs for the camera, an echo of his old self – the angry, hostile teen he once was. After a moment, he lets the look melt off of his face. He’s come so far in the past decade – he’s become a better friend, a better man, and hopefully…hopefully he’s become the kind of person who can be a good romantic partner. But for that role – he’ll need to wait and see.

“In all honesty, this means so much. Thank you to my parents, and to all of our friends from UA for supporting us along the way and for picking me up when I stumbled. Thanks to my mentors Best Jeanist and All Might who saw potential in me even when I was just an angry kid who liked to talk a big game. Thank you to all of the staff at our Agency who make coming to work everyday rewarding. And lastly – I want to thank Deku, who has been with me from the very beginning and helped me to grow into the Pro I am today.” He turns and smiles at Izuku, who beams back at him, teary eyed. “Alright, that’s all the sappiness the press is gonna get out of me today. Move along to the next award.” They exit the stage as Present Mic – the perpetual MC in the Pro Hero world – retakes the podium to announce the winner for “Sidekick of the Year.”

Katsuki and Izuku walk back to the table their sponsored Agency table. They return to handshakes and celebratory pats on the back from their staff. Everyone is cheering and grinning – the award celebrates everyone at the agency’s hard work and dedication. Katsuki feels his heart swell with warmth at the way everyone is beaming and celebrating. He shakes hands and claps the backs of the co-workers around him, basking in everyone’s joy. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the pretty Hero Support independent contractor (who had boldly asked Izuku to drinks) bat her eyelashes at the green-haired Pro. She congratulates Izuku in a bubbly tone as she pulls him into a tight hug that squishes her ample chest against his muscular pecks. Katsuki rolls his eyes as they break apart, noting the light blush on his partner’s face. They all retake their seats as the ceremony continues.

“Don’t get too comfy, extra.” He calls across the table to the independent contractor woman. “Deku and I have a Pro Press tour directly after dinner. So don’t even bother flirting with him.”

The woman, taken aback at Katsuki calling her out, blushes a deep red and excuses herself – making a beeline for the ladies room.

“Kacchan!” Izuku admonishes, looking after the woman with concern. Despite the sharp scolding, Katsuki can tell Izuku is quite pleased at the jealousy the situation has brought out in Katsuki. “That wasn’t nice! Apologize to her when she comes back.”

“Fine!” Katsuki sighs, moving his hand discreetly under the table to rest on the smooth fabric of Izuku’s thigh. The One-For-All wielder almost yelps in surprise, but catches himself. Katsuki lowers his voice, so that only the two of them can hear “I just don’t want her getting her hopes up, when we both know whose bed you’re going to be in tonight.” He continues to move his hand further and further up Izuku’s thigh, lightly squeezing along the way.

“You’re a menace to society, Kacchan.” Izuku sputters out, batting Katsuki’s hand away from his leg and interweaving their fingers instead.

“I know.” Katsuki smiles wickedly and squeezes his lover’s hand beneath the table. “And you love it.”

“I do.” Izuku sighs, rolling his eyes. “For some reason, I really do.”

Big surprise – Izuku ditches the sake date with the hero support woman so he can spend the night at Katsuki’s. They keep each other up well into the night. 💚💥

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