#my eyes completely skimmed over that tag lmao

[feralnightwing]

no trying to start anything but holy fucking hell did that implied brudick at the end of the fic i just read surprise me. to each their own ig but me personally? im sorry but 🤢🤢🤢

[fanfics-for-you]

what's in a name? || Patrick Verona (TTIHAY) x gn!reader (Modern!College!AU)

AVAILABLE ON AO3 (SOON)

Inspiration: ✨️Patrick Verona✨️

Summary: Patrick Verona is apparently the most intimidating guy on campus. You just want to get by, pass your classes, and get to your actual dreams. When you casually approach him one day and decidedly are not scared of him, Patrick has some questions.

TWs: light language, use of Y/N (only like twice), second person POV (you, yours).

[[A/N: This is basically under the concept that you approach Patrick first, and aren't really as afraid of him as anybody else. He's intrigued. Also this is a college AU, because I am in college and I think it's weird to write about high school lmao. ALSO,,, I know this is incredibly niche and a dead tag, but... I watched the movie recently and was violently possessed to write this. The parasites in me what to continue this universe, but idk. Anyway. Enjoy :)]]

You were exhausted. Totally and completely exhausted.

You'd stayed up all night for your chem quiz, and still, didn't think you did great on it. Which made your day ever so worse. So, when you went to the library, and someone was sitting in the spot you always sat in, you halfway wanted to cry and halfway wanted to rip your hair out. Normally, such a thing wouldn't be a big deal, but today it was. So, with a certainty that rivaled a lawyer in court, you stomped over to the chair.

For a moment, the guy didn't even look at you. He kept staring at his friend, a surprisingly 'metal' dressing guy who was talking avidly about something.

You cleared your throat.

That's when they both looked at you.

You were entirely focused on the one in your seat. A taller guy with built shoulders, curly hair and a sharp jaw. In normal circumstances, you'd probably think he was hot. Today was not normal circumstances.

The man raised an eyebrow.

Okay, so maybe it was a little normal circumstances, but that wasn't relevant.

"What are you doing?"

The man answered, simply -maybe a little confused, "Sitting?"

"That's my spot," you clarified, pointedly.

"Oh, I'm sorry-" the man pretended to start getting up before pausing -speaking sarcastically, "-Oh wait, I've just remembered, this is public property."

Mindlessly noting that he had an accent that you couldn't quite place, you rolled your eyes, "I sit there everyday. Just give me the spot."

"You weren't sitting here all day," he pointed out, "-or else I wouldn't be here."

You pressed your lips together into a thin line, "I was busy failing a chem test, now get up."

His eyes skimmed over your face, thoughtfully, "Do you know who I am?"

"Why-" you sighed out, frustrated, "-would I know who you are?"

Even despite the comment, he did seem familiar somehow but you weren't going to tell him that.

He furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, and didn't say anything. You felt like you were going to explode in fiery flames.

You groaned, "Oh my god. There are thousands of seats on campus, just go sit somewhere else."

"Exactly," the man countered, "-why don't you sit somewhere else?"

"Because-" you huffed out a breath, "-that's my spot."

"And why is this spot so important to you?" He shuffled slightly, moving his hands along the cracks of the seat, "-You got something good stashed in 'ere?"

"Dear god," you huffed out a breath in defeat, "-Whatever. Enjoy your seat, asshole."

And with that, you spun on your heel and pulled yourself deeper into the library. Taking a breath in, you pulled yourself into a seat not too far from the original, but you were around the corner so you wouldn't have to look at his stupid face. You soured just at the thought.

You pulled open your chem book, and read through it -trying to figure out which ones you definitely missed, that way you could get the ballpark for what your grade might be. You really needed to know, to make sure your GPA stayed in the range for your dream university.

But, in the middle of it, you heard someone plop into the chair in front of you (it was a group of chairs, like for a group of people if necessary).

Before looking up, you spoke -sharply, "Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

Your eyes shot up at that familiar accent, and you frowned.

"You got the seat," you pointed out, bitterly, "-What the hell do you want now?"

"Your name," he answered simply.

You blinked, (what?) before settling back into your seat and flipping to the next page, "Yeah, no."

The man seemed to move forward, and unwillingly your eyes flickered to him (his curls moving with the motion), "Why not?"

"I don't give my name out to strangers," you retorted -flicking your eyes down to your book, "-especially not assholes."

"Don't know if I can change who I am," he smirked, "-but, I can work on the stranger part."

You frowned, eyeing him particularly, "Seriously, what do you want?"

"I already told you," he replied, fidgeting with something in his hands (you weren't paying attention), "-I'm Patrick, by the way."

"Well," you exhaled, sharply, and ignored his name, "-you're not getting it."

"Well," he repeated with the same sort of grin, "-I'll just have to work on that too, then."

You looked up at him again and squinted at him -trying to read him somehow. All he did was grin at you, a charming kind, of course, that made crinkles on his cheeks. You ignored the flutter in your chest that it gave you and darted your eyes back down to your book.

The next day, you were in better spirits. After studying for an entirely different class, you were pretty sure you aced that test. So, you weren't as pissed, thankfully. Until you went into the library to sit between classes like you always did.

You paused in your step and frowned.

The guy (Patrick, your mind treacherously noted) was sitting by your chair, mindlessly tapping his fingers along the arm of the chair. He wasn't in your chair, thankfully, but still, he was in the one beside it. Pointedly close.

You huffed out a breath, and moved toward the chairs, "What are you doing?"

"Sitting," he repeated.

You raised an eyebrow.

He seemed to take that as a repeat of the question -before saying, confidently (too confidently), "I'm studying for a test."

"You don't seem like the studying type," you retorted, throwing yourself into the chair and pulling out your laptop -realizing it was no use to try and get him to leave.

Patrick pointed out, "You don't even know me."

"And I don't intend to," you replied with ease, flicking your eyes to meet his, "-your point?"

He grinned the same bright one from before, amused maybe. Your heart skipped a beat, so you dropped your eyes back down to your laptop. He, on the other hand, didn't seem to look away.

"What's your major?" He asked, thoughtfully.

"I won't tell you my name," you leveled, scrolling through your online schedule for homework, "-but you think I'll tell you my major?"

"Well," he reasoned, "-a name is much more identifiable, but your major," he shrugged, "-not so much."

You eyed him again for a second, before saying, "What if you just want to look up my classes and hunt me down?"

Patrick smiled again, before asking, "What is your next class?"

"Why?" You ask, pointedly, "-So you can force me into talking to you again?"

"Preferably," he replied, grinning cheekily.

You raised an eyebrow, and bit your lip to pull down a smile that begged to quirk up, "I'm not telling you that either."

"What if I just follow you when you leave?" He questioned, curiously, "-Figure it out myself?"

"And what if I-" you smiled at him -patronizingly, "-call the campus police?"

He raised both eyebrows as if to say 'touché' without saying it out loud. You bit down another smile and moved back to your computer -pulling out your planner and jotting down dates.

"Your pissiness," he suddenly spoke, "-Are you often filled with boiling hatred?"

"No," you sigh out, before shooting him another patronizing smile, "-that's special just for you."

He laughed then, and something warm zinged down to your toes (you ignored it), "Do you seriously not know me?"

"Do you know how many Patricks exist in the world?" you point out, "-No, I don't know you."

"So you do remember my name," he smirked, patting along his lap with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes but didn't say a word.

It ended up like that for the rest of the time, Patrick shooting questions now and then, and you shutting them down. His stupid smirk and low, rumbly, accented voice, you hated that he actually seemed kinda nice -all things considered.

But, as you stood up to leave, you decided on something.

"Literature," you said simply, gathering up everything into your bag.

He paused, shooting up his eyebrows, "What?"

"My next class," you answered, nonchalantly pulling your bag onto your shoulder, "-Intro to Literature."

Patrick grinned, bright and shiny, "Gen Ed?"

"Yeah," you answered, moving to put the last few things in your bag.

"Can I walk you?"

Your eyes snapped to him then, curiously -detailing the rather honest look, before answering solidly, "No."

He burst into laughter then, throwing his head back against the chair -you mindlessly watched his curls fall back with the motion and then snapped your eyes away.

"Same time tomorrow then?" He asked, still laughing a little bit (something in you twinkled).

"Nope," you exhale a breath, ignoring the disappointment that swirled into your chest, "-I'm not on campus tomorrow."

He seemed to falter for a second, "Do you live on campus?"

You raised a solid eyebrow, you really think I'd tell you that?

"Right, yeah, okay," Patrick conceded, holding up his hands in faux surrender, "-What days are you on campus?"

You paused, pressing your lips together, but something in you did it, "Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays."

He grinned a little brighter, "Are you here around the same time on Mondays?"

Something in your chest flipped, but even still, you answered, "That's what you have to figure out. Not me."

And then, you spun on your heel and walked out of the library. His laughter trailed out behind you, and if you had a small little smile on your face at the noise, that was only for you to know.

Monday came, and you woke up early and made your way to campus -the first class of the day was at the crack of dawn. You physically despised it, but so is the schedule of a college student. Plus, you still worked, so the earlier the better for your schedule -didn't mean it didn't suck though.

Sipping on your drink, you wandered back toward the cafeteria -crossing the main connecting area, where everything led to. There was a baseball game going on, not an official one by the looks of it, in the grass. Your eyes hinged on the game for a few seconds, the echoes of laughter shooting toward your ears. It looked fun, but you weren't too invested in being outside for that long. Before you could look away though, your eyes caught on a familiar frame.

Patrick.

His hair was tied back, and he was wearing a pretty bland tank top (just grey), with some typical jeans. With his hair pulled back, you could see his jaw more distinctively -the sharp lines clear from even this far away. (Not that you were looking.) The sun bore down on them but all of the players seemed to be happily distracted. And you kinda were too.

You pursed your lips, for a moment, and looked forward again after a breath, heading toward the cafeteria again confidently.

Before you could get very far, though, you heard a familiar accent.

"Hey!" He yelled, a little distant -footsteps following his voice, "-Hey!"

At first, you weren't sure if he was talking to you, so you kept moving.

"Shit, I don't know what to call you," he called out, breathless and much, much closer.

You spun on your heels with furrowed brows, and met his eyes over a few people's heads. The grin that swallowed his face whole should've been criminal, bright and twinkly and... charming.

Before you could say anything, he was by your side with heavy breaths -assumedly from playing baseball and getting over to you. Leaning over slightly, he leveled out heavy breaths. You were almost concerned enough to offer him water, but he seemed to settle himself before you could.

"Hi," he echoed, "-'Ve been looking for you all morning, what time did you get here?"

You blinked, all morning?

"I get here early, 7, and immediately go to class," you answered, a little blankly (looking for you, looking for you, looking for you).

"Oh," he paused, "-I got here at 8. There's classes at 7?"

"Obviously," you respond, because you did in fact just say it.

"Did you-" Patrick started, before pursing his lips together, "-Are you going to the library now?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, "No, I'm going to the cafeteria to eat between classes. Why?"

"I'm actually quite hungry myself," he avoided the question, "-Do you mind if I tag along?"

"What about your game?" You furrowed your eyebrows even further -eyeing him curiously.

"'S just to fill time," he explained, "-It's nothing serious. They're sure to find someone to fill in for me."

You flicker your eyes along his face, trying to read him. What's your prerogative?

After a moment, you come up with nothing and instead, just turn on your heel -leading the way to the cafeteria.

"I'm taking that as a yes, then?" Patrick called out from behind you, catching up and matching your stride with ease (despite you making no move to slow down).

You decidedly don't answer him, and say something focused elsewhere -eyeing him as you walk forward, "Do you always stalk people this much?"

Patrick laughed, catching your eye with his warm brown ones (they were almost sparkly under the sun of the day), "Only the ones that blindly hate me."

You pressed your lips together in a flat line (trying not to give anything away), "I didn't say that I hated you."

His face lit up at the words (and you couldn't decide if you regretted it or not), "Well, you could've convinced me."

You roll your eyes, and keep walking forward, "Not telling you my personal information isn't... hating you."

"I'm not sure not introducing yourself is exactly anything but hatred," he argued back, fluidly.

"I just told you that I don't hate you," you point out, "-so it isn't."

"Does that mean you'll eventually tell me your name?" Patrick asked, curiously.

You turned to him, flicked your eyes over him, and then looked forward again, "Maybe on good behavior."

He burst into laughter, brown eyes set on your face, "You're quite an enigma, you know that?"

"And you're not half the mystery you portray," you fire back, naturally, with the flow of the conversation.

He grinned at that, eyes shining with something you couldn't quite label, "You know, I don't think I've met a person like you. You're fearless in like a-" he motioned with his hands, "-casual way."

"I'm not fearless," you argue, approaching the door to the cafeteria, "-I'm just confident."

"Do they not go hand-in-hand?" Patrick offers, getting to the door before you and promptly holding it open for you -unflinchingly.

Something warm stirs in your stomach at the gesture (and his woodsy scent that brushes your nose as you walk past him), but you ignore it, "You can be certain and still be afraid."

"But knowing you're right doesn't necessarily mean-" Patrick followed you in, matching your stride again, as if it's natural, "-that you're confident."

You furrow your eyebrows, genuinely intrigued, "What do you mean?"

He paused, maybe a little shocked by your attentiveness, "Plenty of people know they're right and still concede to someone else because they don't want to fight it. You-" he pointed at you, "-will fight it."

"Well," you purse your lips, avoiding his eye contact, "-maybe I'm only like this with you."

"You," Patrick paused, "-You're not this fiery ball of rage with anyone else?"

You eye him for a second, before saying flatly, "Maybe."

"All of this seething hatred and impressive indifference just for me?" He grins, the big teeth-showing kind, "-I'm touched really. Because I am special to you in some weird kinda twisted way-"

Before you can stop yourself, you let out a laugh at his words -just a quick one. Barely there.

But you could still see the delight smooth along his face, and just knew he caught it.

"How much of that have you been holding back?" He tilted his head curiously, before continuing to push it, smirking, "-Oh I bet you think I'm hilarious."

Your heart skipped a beat at the smirk, and you simply pressed your lips together and turned on your heel to the food counter. There wasn't even a second before you heard footsteps following you.

"You're not denying it, you know," he called after you, close on your tail.

You peer over the selection of food, eyeing the different items thoughtfully, "But I didn't confirm it either."

"Still not denying it," Patrick hummed, sing-songy.

"You know," you turn to him (mindlessly noting that he is very close), sharply, "-someone can have one good joke and still be unfunny."

He leaned forward slightly, eyes set on yours -challenging, "Then tell me why it came out like you were holding it back?"

You blinked at him, once and then twice, the sudden closeness sent a shock through your brain and the challenging tone of his voice nearly gave you full-body shivers. You can't find words to say, and you can nearly see it processing on Patrick's face (the way that he had made your mind melt for a moment), so you turn to the counter and point at something random for them to pick out for you.

The woman eyes the two of you suspiciously, but still diligently pulls out a to-go plate and piles the... mashed potatoes onto it.

"Oh my god," he finally says after a moment (you ignore it).

You go through a few other items, and the woman gathers them onto the plate. You pay, grab your plate-

"You like me," Patrick retorts, and you're not even looking at him but you can tell he's got a shit-eating grin.

Your brain malfunctions for a moment, but you step toward the tables and fire back (on autopilot), "I won't even tell you my name."

He's hot on your trail, following you diligently, "You're avoiding the question."

You spin to him, and reply -sharply, "You didn't ask a question."

His eyes flicker along your face, taking you in (you want to squirm but you steel yourself in place -your eyes now challenging), and then he grins so bright that you'd need sunglasses in any other scenario.

"Oh, you're really into me," he continues, low, gravelly, accented voice rumbling through your ears.

You screw up your face into something defiant, roll your eyes, and turn back to slide into a table. Patrick follows you like a lost puppy. Well, an incredibly arrogant lost puppy.

"You're still not denying it," he slides into the chair beside you and you hate the way your brain swims at the woodsy smell that brushes your nose.

"'Thought you were hungry," you say, simply (avoiding the question and decidedly not denying).

"It was very obviously a ploy," Patrick chimed back, with natural ease -tilting his head slightly and looking at you with twinkling eyes, "-They had pizza out there for all the players. I've already eaten."

Your fork froze for a millisecond (even still, you were sure he caught it), and after a moment, you pulled it to your lips. Maybe conquering both of your lack of response and the way your mind lit up at the idea of 'he just wanted to see me'.

His smile and eyes seemed to soften slightly, as he leaned his head down to catch your eye and guide it back up to your natural gaze (your heart skipped a beat). His brown eyes were soft and if you were honest, maybe a little affectionate.

"What's your name?" He finally said after a soft few moments.

And just like that, for you, the moment snapped, and you rolled your eyes -turning back to your food.

"Oh, come on," Patrick tried to catch your gaze again, "-Look, I'll tell you. Patrick Verona. That's my name-"

You bit down a smile, as he motioned to you with his hands.

"-Now, your turn, tell me yours."

You raised an eyebrow.

Patrick let out a half-laugh, before leaning forward slightly on the table -not quite a breath away, but certainly closer.

"You're so stubborn," he laughed, "-I'll beg. You want me to beg?"

You can't help but let the smile slip onto your lips then, "Why would you beg for my name?"

"Because I want it," he pointed out, still grinning "-Because I want to know you, and personally, I think it should start with a name."

Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you let your fork hang there on the path to your face. You took a moment, scampered your eyes along his face (dark brown eyes so incredibly soft, curls coming down from where he put them up in individual tendrils). Your resolve was weakening, it was really and truly broken under Patrick Verona's hand.

Stupid pretty boys-

"Y/N," you said finally (quieter than intended), immediately pulling a bite to your mouth.

Patrick blinked, "What?"

"'S my name," you explain -shortly, moving a hand in front of your mouth as you chew, "-Y/N."

His eyes lit up at the words, that stupid charming grin smoothing onto his face as he repeated, softer than expected, "Y/N."

You shove down the fluster that begs to climb up your cheeks at his accented voice saying your name. It's something you'd never really thought about but now that it's said, you probably should've thought about it.

Patrick leaned back in his chair, eyes still set on you. He was still grinning, as he said simply, "Suits you."

You furrow your eyebrows, "What's that supposed to mean?"

He raises his hands in faux surrender, laughing to himself, "Jesus, you're a true ball of rage, you know 'at?"

"I'm not-" you huff out, and take a deep breath in, "-I'm not mad."

"Defensive then," he mends, "-You act as though I'm about to strike any minute."

You pursed your lips, "Whose to say you aren't?"

"Me," Patrick laughs, "-This entire conversation. The way I've acted around you since the beginning-"

"Oh, shut up," you roll your eyes, unable to stop the smile creeping onto your lips, "-you were an asshole once."

He groaned, but something like amusement was twinkling in his eyes, "You are the most stubborn human being on this earth-"

"You took my spot," you interrupt, sturdy.

"-It's public property," Patrick argued back, "-and how was I supposed to know it was yours before I sat in it?"

You paused, for a moment, before saying, "You couldn't. But, you could have given it to me when I asked."

"And then we wouldn't be here," he explained, now fully grinning, "-and wouldn't that just be such a bore."

Your eyes swam over his face a moment, Patrick Verona. And his dumb persistence. And his stupid handsome face-

God.

You let out a long sigh, picking around at your food. Eyes watching the swirl of your fork, you debate a few different things to say. Finally, after a few spare seconds, you made up your mind.

"Yeah," you hum, flickering your eyes up to his, "-it would."

Patrick grinned, big and bright and twinkly (you felt your heart skip a beat in your chest). His eyes, the deep brown that if you weren't careful you could stare at for way too long, were soft but still sort of happy, eager. Definitely eager.

And maybe, just maybe, you could get used to-

"I told you I could work on the 'stranger' thing," he suddenly said, smirking, "-You never should've doubted me."

"What?" You raised an eyebrow, confused.

"You said-" Patrick explained, "-you don't give your name out to strangers. And I said I could work on that part-"

You level a look at him.

"-And look, I did," he continued, before adding with a smirk, "-I have successfully escaped the cavernous barrier, deeper than the ocean I'd say, that walls you off from any poor soul who wishes to know you-"

"You're really pushing it, Verona," you chime back, fiery (but not quite all the way).

"What?" He raised his eyebrows, like he said nothing at all to warrant the reaction, "-You can't tell me that it's not like pulling teeth getting to know you. Or trying to anyway-"

You press your lips onto a flat line, "Wow, you must be a sort of masochist, then?

He faltered for a second, before laughing a little, "Oh absolutely, I chase the high of you ignoring me for 2 hours straight every day."

You rolled your eyes, biting down a smile, "I despise you."

"Better that than indifferent," he responded with ease, "-I prefer you feeling something rather than nothing at all."

"Oh my god-"

It continued like that, a back and forth, as you finish eating your mediocre cafeteria lunch. The silence is sparse but not uncomfortable when Patrick isn't running his mouth, that is. It was nice. Insanely nice. You'd probably never had as much fun on this campus as you did with him, just in general, but...

"Same time Wednesday?" He poses with a cheeky grin, leaning onto one hand against the table -closer to you than before.

You felt something warm swirl into your stomach, as your eyes flickered over his face. He was still smiling, like he wasn't able to stop when he was here with you. And something in you never wanted to see it go away anyway.

So, with a slight head tilt and a brighter grin than what you'd let slip past all day, you repeated.

"Same time Wednesday."

[finniestoncrane]

(btaa crane and fem reader please 💜)

i’d like to be seated front row for a thriller movie. and i’ll have a soda, lollipop, and chocolate cookie!

on it!! the love for this bastard always amazes me lmao 💚🩷 cw: praise kink, choking, biting, licking, saliva, bit of angst 🔞minors dni🔞 send a request • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2k (to follow or to block)

It was foolish to betray Jonathan Crane. Even more foolish to admit it. But you knew he would find out eventually, stumbling upon your attempt to make a little bit more money on the side by skimming a little bit from the top of the payments for the drugs you sold for him. Stealing from him, completely wrong.

You just assumed that the punishment would be lessened if you were honest.

Wrong again.

But you were willing to take your punishment, whatever it might be, without putting up much of a fight. And, though you might not admit it, with an air of excitement.

"It's such a sad state of affairs to know I'll have to get rid of you. You were one of my better sales reps. Do you have any idea how disappointed I am?"

You nodded, although you imagined that might not have been the response he was hoping for. But your throat was closing up and you couldn't force any words forward.

"Do you know how much you've hurt me?"

That made your heart drop. Knowing that you'd caused him any kind of emotional distress, not just financial, not just as an employer.

Jonathan stopped pacing and settled directly in front of you, his long limbs seeming to stretch as he towered over you, imposing, threatening despite his slender build.

"I placed my trust in you. I believed you were such a good girl..."

Your stomach knotted, body shifting as you tried to hold in the reaction that he illicited from you with that touch of praise.

"... my good girl. But you were just a flavour of the month. Doing my bidding for the briefest of times. A tease. I can't have that. I have to make an example out of you, you understand, yes?"

You offered another nod to him, a twinge within your walls as they tensed, trying to keep your slick from spreading over your underwear, aroused at the idea of him paying attention to just you, regardless of whether it was a negative experience or not. Jonathan seemed to mistake this display of obvious arousal for something else. The adrenaline, the shivering, the uncomfortable look on your face.

He thought he sensed fear. And the thought excited him.

"Well, well. Perhaps you could do make it up to me after all. Be a sweet, willing little helper once more?"

A tentative nod, not wanting to seem too enthusiastic in case he decided you were too quick to forgive yourself.

"Let me taste your fear."

Before you could agree, Jonathan has his slim but strong hand on your neck, choking you as he watched fear blooming in your eyes. He let his eyelids close in satisfaction as he felt your pulse against his thumb, removing the digit, the rest of his fingers loosening their grip too, only to be raplced by his mouth as he dove in for a bite where he could feel the beating the hardest.

His lips encircled the skin, licking at the tendon which shifted as he closed his jaws tighter. Each suck brought the blood close enough to the surface, so close that just a little harder and he would be able to taste it.

For a moment, he pulled back, watching you try to catch your breath.

"This might be your new line of work. Your calling!"

No sooner than you had found your breath, his hand was back around your throat, taking it away from you.

"It works out perfectly. You can hardly get up to mischief when my hand is around your throat, can you? No. You'll just have to be a very good girl."

[hongjoongspoetry]

Too Sweet | Jeong Yunho

🥃 Summary: Two complete opposites who are quickly falling for each other, one wanting more but the other afraid of all the things that could go wrong.

🥃 Pairing(s): upcoming rockstar!Jeong Yunho x F!Reader

🥃 Genres/Tropes: upcoming-rockstar au, opposites attract au, what could have been, fluff, angst, suggestive, hurt/no comfort

🥃 Warnings/Tags: Fem!reader, no use of Y/N, kinda yunho centric, explicit language, insecure yuyu, use of alcohol, smoking cig, arguments, mingi is a good friend, mention of religion and satan, stereotypes about rockbands, post-orgasm conversations, making out and brief nipple play (f receiving), a lot of crying, sad ending, not beta read and MDNI!!!

🥃 Wordcount: 19.9K

🥃 Author's note pt.1: It's been a while....Here's a lil something inspired by hozier's too sweet. The way I have so many drafts for this story in different AUs. I couldn't decide whether to make it into an Idol AU or not, so I did a mix. 😭 It wasn't supposed to be that long either but apparently I have no limits when it comes to writing lmao. Keep in mind that I have little to no knowledge about instruments, rock bands, etc, so everything I know is from given (the anime), KISS and wikipedia. English isn't my first (or second) language, so if there are any errors please do tell.

AO3 Masterlist Moodboard

This is all fiction and not meant to represent Yunho in any way or form.

The first time Yunho laid eyes on you he knew you’d never be his. Not because of some ancient family feud forbidding you from one another or because you were star crossed lovers in a dystopian world. No, it wasn’t anything dramatic like that. 

You’d never be his because Yunho would simply not let it happen. 

Yunho jumped off the makeshift stage set up in the corner of the saloon that waited on them each Friday night and walked through the drunken crowd of people. The band finished their weekly gig at Crescent and were being treated to drinks by the owner for bringing such a big crowd to the bar. 

Slightly hunched over the counter, left forearm pressing against the smooth wooden surface while the other idly rested on his thigh and feet propped on the footrest, Yunho silently thanked the bartender for the drinks. One for him and the other for his bandmate seated to his right. The drummer brought a lot of attention to them, with his bleached hair styled to get that disheveled spiked look and handful of tattoos and piercings littering his body. Despite the flashy details, Mingi was quite the eye-candy. His thick lips and equally big and straight nose, made him popular with the ladies as well as the men, and not to mention his chiseled jaw. A big pair of shades covered his fox-eyes – he was too lazy to smudge some makeup on – and the miniature face tattoo reading ‘fix-on’ inked on his cheekbone, unlike the big butterfly on his neck that was fully exposed. 

Yunho usually didn’t like sitting at the corner of the long bar, but it provided more space for his long legs and a better view to the rest of the room which, on second hand, he was grateful for otherwise he’d miss the door opening and the group of girls coming through. Each was different from the other, he thought as he skimmed past them only to back track at the last one trailing in.

Staring at you from across the room – a place he never imagined a speck of purity in – he swiveled the drink in hand, allowing the whiskey to swish around in the bottom before tipping his head back and letting some of the brown liquor cascade down his throat. Despite having a speaker right above his head, your angelic laughter still managed to reach Yunho’s ears and it was better than any melody performed by the next indie group. Eyes wandering down your figure, body clad in a white sundress with a pattern of miniature pink roses, he stopped at the heart shaped front giving a little tease of what hid beneath. The fabric hugged tightly around your torso and hips, then widened like a flower in bloom and stopped right above your knees. A gold necklace with a delicate heart pendant rested subtly near the crevic of your chest. Arms and legs bare, only a matching golden bracelet glinting on your right wrists and nails painted in white. You wore the cutest pair of pink ballet flats Yunho had ever seen and it brought a little smile to his face.

“What are you smiling about?” Mingi asked with a teasing tilt to his voice, a brow curiously arched and bottom lip stuck between his teeth.

Yunho shook his head and took another calculated sip of his drink. 

���Nothing.”

“Right, so you didn’t just plan a marriage with the angel-look alike overthere, huh?” Mingi nodded towards the girls who were inching closer to an empty table. “She seems sweet.”

And sweet you were. Oh, so sweet. From your strawberry lip gloss to the notes of your brown sugar and vanilla perfume lingering in the air. Eyes twinkling in the dim lights and nose scrunching before a giggle came out at one of your friends’ jokes, hand automatically going up to cover your mouth.

“Well,” Mingi started and tapped his fingers against the bar, “if you’re gonna shoot your shot about now would be the time to do it.”

On cue you passed the two giants and stopped to the left of Yunho where you could get a clear view of the bartender, and hopefully catch his attention. Being the one to cancel the last outing, you took it on yourself to pay for the first round of drinks as a way of apologizing to the girls even if they didn’t chastise you for it. 

You were prettier up close, Yunho thought as he scanned your profile. Pretty lips, gorgeous eyes and captivating makeup. 

“Hey,” he finally said and slightly turned towards you. 

A friendly smile splayed on his face and ears were slightly red either from his drink or the warmth from the heavily packed bar. Never one to turn down a conversation, you greeted him back with upturned lips and faced the front again. Luck wasn’t on your side as the bartender brushed past you on multiple occasions, eyes filtering over you as if you weren’t there. Not giving up, you let out a huff of annoyance and stepped closer. Standing on your tiptoes – not that you needed it, but maybe then you’d get his attention – and arms crossed over the surface you followed his movements, eyes burning into him but to no avail. The man took order after order and not once did you get the chance to speak up. Yunho, who watched the whole thing play out, slightly raised his hand and the bartender spawned before him in seconds. Lips parted in disbelief, you couldn’t believe how easy the dark haired man made it out to be. There you were, waiting like a dog for a crumb of attention while he got it with a lift of his fingers.

“This pretty lady has been wanting to order for a while now,” Yunho stated calmly, yet his eyes were hard as steel. 

Saying nothing, the bartender turned to you with a raised brow, quietly urging you to spit it out. 

“Two mojitos, one martini and mai tai, please.” As the bartender got to work, you thanked the guy with the helping hand.

“No worries, it tends to get rather busy here on Fridays…That’s a lot for just one lady though.”

“Well, this lady didn’t come alone.”

In any other circumstance, Yunho would interpret the statement as snarky and a telltale of not being interested but your soft spoken words said the complete opposite. 

“Ah, there go my plans of buying you a drink.”

Taking a better look at the man you realized he was quite handsome. Face full of delicate features; a long nose, thin cupid’s bow mouth and eyes soft but dark as the handful of oak trees outside. The smokey makeup fit the whole wanna-be-rock-star-look and so did the ring protruding from the left side of his bottom lip. His mass of black and burgundy hair was ruffled up and parted in the middle, revealing his forehead. Blue pants with interesting design swirls fit around his legs and he wore a black sleeveless shirt that showed off his perfectly formed biceps and shoulders. A bunch of silver necklaces hung around his neck and each finger was adorned with one or two rings; some thin and plain, and others thick and covering whole digits. So not only was he handsome, but had a good fashion sense too. All he was missing was the sleeve of tattoos and you’d dub him a real rock star. Eyes crinkling and lips pursing in an almost teasing manner, you decided to take a huge leap of faith. 

“Who’s to say you still can’t?”

The teasing remark indicated you didn’t know he was a member of Blue Bird and it sent waves of relief through him. It wasn’t like he didn’t want you to know about the band, but most people that did only approached him because of it and not his personality. Starting a conversation with ‘fuck me like a rockstar’ quote unquote, wasn’t the best way to get into Yunho’s pants. 

“Perhaps the partner you came with.” 

Yunho’s chin rested against the palm of his hand, brows slightly raised and lips quirked up. 

“Lucky for you, it’s just me and my girlies.” 

“As much as I’d like to crash ladies night, let’s do this instead. I’ll give you my number and you text me when you’re feeling for another drink, on me, yeah?”

Like a moth drawn to a flame, you subconsciously leaned closer to him. Slightly swaying side to side with eyes trained on him, completely missing the entertained look on Mingi’s face who watched the interaction with glee. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d pick a person up from a night out, even upcoming rock stars had needs to quell, but something was telling Mingi you weren’t interested in a quickie in the bathroom. Forever engraving the image of his friend smiling at a girl that was the complete opposite of him, Mingi smiled. Perhaps you were the cube of sugar Yunho needed with his all too bitter coffee.

The second time Yunho laid eyes on you he really wished for things to work out. That despite your differences you’d find a balance solid enough to keep a healthy relationship. While Yunho usually wasn’t a naive guy, his adoration towards you weighed heavier than any rational thought screaming at him to cut the interaction short. Wanting to bask just a little more in the sunlight that was you, Yunho decided – for once – to be selfish.

It was a Wednesday afternoon when you stepped foot in a, you wouldn’t call it a rundown neighborhood but it wasn’t that wellkept either. The playgrounds made for kids were far from eye-catching with the once vibrant colors taken over by rust that even you – an adult – wouldn't try out the rides. The navigation in your phone chimed as you entered a white building identical to the other structures and began climbing the several flights of stairs, re-reading Yunho’s instructions of how to get to his place. Chest heaving and cheeks ablaze, you sent three rapid knocks against the door. One would believe the resident’s surname to be somewhere near but that wasn’t the case as only the apartment number in metal was drilled on the wall beside. The door swung open and you were greeted by a smiling Yunho, the lip ring glinting in the corridor lights.

“Hey, I was worried you wouldn’t find your way here but you’re a pro.”

While you weren’t dressed in a cute sundress, you still looked as sweet with your pink knitted sweater and light blue pants. What really took his breath away were the bright bows in your hair. If you were the sun then Yunho was the moon with his dark bottoms and identical hoodie thrown over the only bright fabric on his body. 

“Now you know not to underestimate me, Yunho.”

Hands thrown up in surrender, he walked backwards as you followed in tow. 

“Consider the lesson learned.”

The apartment was neater than expected – white walls, laminated flooring and a few family pictures hanging here and there – considering it was in the care of two guys and the interior proved that as the living room solely consisted of a sofa big enough for two with a small coffee table in the middle and the biggest plasma TV you had ever seen nailed to the wall. On the brightside there weren’t any dirty underwear or rotten leftovers lying everywhere.

“Well this is my place, or mine and my roommate’s, but still welcome.”

“It looks nice,” you honestly responded and that counted as a victory in Yunho’s books.

“Thank you, obviously I do all the furniture shopping. My friend isn’t all that interested in the interior of the place as long as we have somewhere to sit and sleep.”

The kitchen was shaped in an upside down L with black tiled floor starting from the threshold, the walls were still white. The slimmer and oblong part consisted of black marble counters and the usual mechanics that had a little shine to them telling you they cost a good penny. In the wider part of the kitchen was a round table and a set of four chairs. Black curtains were drawn together yet you could make out an empty balcony through the small gap. There weren't a lot of miscellaneous decorations in the place, as if the apartment was barely in use but to stay the night. Taking a seat by the dinner table, you rested your chin against your palms and smiled as Yunho opened the fridge.

“Ah, is that why there’s a massage chair in the hallway?”

The cold temperature chilled Yunho’s burning cheeks. Collecting himself, he slid you a can of coke and took out the rest of the preparations he needed to make dinner.

“That’s one of Yeosang’s many dumb investments, once again why I’m in charge of the interior.”

“He’s the one with the neon green hair, right?” You recalled as the different faces came to mind. 

“Yup.”

It dawned on you that all of Yunho’s friends were strikingly handsome, but Yeosang was by far the prettiest. With a face of both sharp and soft features he was sculpted better than any ancient Greek statue, and possessed a jaw sharp enough to cut through skin. His eyes were large and dark but with a gentle shape to them, just like his heart shaped lips. A raspberry smudge bloomed by the side of his upper cheek, another pretty and heart shaped detail to his already unique face. His hair was long enough to be tucked behind his ear with some neon green strands falling in his line of sight. This man could very well fit in the Louvre and no one would bat an eye.

The afternoon continued pleasantly as dinner was made. Yunho, who had barely any cooking knowledge, relied on you who relied on an online recipe. Saving you the trouble of accidentally burning down the kitchen, Yunho decided to cut up vegetables and prepare the table while you were responsible for the chicken and ramen that turned out great considering neither having prior-experience of making a real meal. The success was celebrated with a brand new flask of wine that Yunho apparently saved for special occasions, completely dismissing your protests.

“So what does the Yunho do for a living?” 

The question wasn’t foreign to him as everyone back in Gwangju asked it – some out of spite and others with genuine curiosity – yet anxiety seeped under his skin, raising the hair along his arms as his doe eyes widened. Noticing the lack of mischief behind your choice of words, he willed himself to relax and masked the surprised expression with a smirk.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Considering we barely know anything ‘bout each other…yes.”

Despite having alcohol in your system you noted the hesitation flash across his features, shoulders sagging and fingers slightly clenching around the utensils. It hit you that everything besides his governmental name – and the fact that he lived with a roommate who was working late – was undisclosed. For a moment you entertained the idea of Yunho going under a false name or that you could possibly be on a date with a geondal. Why else would he invite you to his home and not somewhere public? You made a mental note to share your location in the group chat just to be on the safer side. The motion of his hand going to scratch the back of his neck plunged you out of your wild fantasies.

“Okay, but it might come as a shock…or not, we’ll see.”

That did not help his geondal-agenda and Yunho took notice of your sudden silence, quickly waving his hand in a no-motion.

“It’s nothing bad I promise. It’s just…not a normal nine to five job and it’s, well, not many are supportive of it and it doesn’t…pay much.”

The piece of chicken in your mouth wasn’t as satisfying anymore. Thinking it probably couldn’t hurt to know considering he was so willing to share it, you slowly nodded. Instead of giving an immediate answer, Yunho inhaled deeply and ran his hand through his black locks.

“I’m the lead guitarist of Blue Bird with three other guys…and Yeosang’s our manager.” Yunho scratched the back of his head, “I’m sorry for not saying anything earlier but I figured you didn’t know and I wanted to keep it that way so you wouldn’t build an image of me based on what other people say. Now that I’m saying it outloud I realize how dumb that was and quite selfish of me and I’m sorry if that offends you?”

“Oh, oh!  Not that all! It explains a lot actually, I mean I thought you were just dressing as a rockstar but now that I know you’re one, let’s just say it makes sense.”

The sincerity brought him ease and eyes turned soft again. Yunho never blushed but his ears always gave him away, currently glowing red like the organic tomatoes in the cornershop and lips pulled in a gentle smile. The whole exchange was going smoother than anticipated and he only hoped it wouldn’t ruin the friendship you built up so far.

“Plus, it’s not that far from what I had in mind,” you continued.

“And dare I ask what you would guess then?”

“Fine, but you can’t laugh at me for it, promise?” 

Reaching over the table you held out your pinky finger, waiting for him to latch onto it with his own.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

Ignoring the swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you took a sip of the red wine and cleared your throat.

“A body artist.”

Almost choking on his ramen, Yunho coughed and recovered before you could think much of it.

“I think you’ve got the wrong impression. I’m not anywhere near suitable for that job, like I hate the feel of shit piercing skin and I can’t draw for the life of me.”

“Well, I blame the rings and clothes. And besides, what is it really that determines how good of an artist you are? I mean art is a personal thing, just like music, right? Obviously not everyone’s going to like everything you do but it doesn’t mean it’s badly done. So I don’t think it’s a question of how good you are, rather a question of personal taste.”

Speechless. You had rendered him speechless. A few years ago, when Yunho revealed he wouldn’t be applying for college and would try the one in a million chance of becoming a superstar, everyone was against it, claiming that the career wouldn’t last long and he’d eventually return back to Gwangju empty handed (not to mention the claims he was being possessed by Satan). The only one giving him enough support to cover for his absent family was Yeosang, who followed Yunho to Seoul, and now you, practically a stranger he hadn’t even known for more than a few weeks.

As you looked up from your bowl, you were startled at his baffled expression and immediately put down your utensils. 

“Did I say something wrong?”

His heart beat loud in his chest and palms grew sweaty under your curious gaze. Mouth parted as he struggled to answer the question and finally settled on an awkward chuckle. 

“No, it just…caught me off guard,” he assured and quickly averted the spotlight on you. “Enough of me, I want to know more about you. Tell me, what do you do then, is it something more exciting than dancing in a room all day?”

“I don’t know about that, but it’s nothing cool like yours–”

“And I wouldn’t think anything less of you either way.”

Smiling like a thousand suns you said, “I’m a preschool teacher.”

Of course, Yunho thought, even your line of work had to be cute. It was only right for a kind soul like yours to be at a place surrounded by everything innocent and pure. Although Yunho liked performing and singing in front of others, staying awake until the early hours of the morning, perfecting different riffs and learning new pitches of singing, he didn’t like how it added to the growing distance between you. 

“Would you look at that, I think you’re even sweeter now.”

You took a bite of the food as you let the revelation sink in. The compliment getting to your head and warming your cheeks. You had been called every sweet adjective under the sun. Cute, endearing, angelic, the words were a repetitive mantra in your life but hearing them from Yunho made you feel like a high schooler buzzing to jump in bed and just write down the whole conversation – dotting your ‘i’s with hearts and stars – to read back in a couple of years and remember the affection bestowed on you.

Waking up to the motion of his phone buzzing violently beside his head, Yunho groaned and pressed the off button without checking the caller ID. He mentally cursed Mingi for being an early bird and not knowing how to respect others' boundaries. The sun creeped through the blinds in his room, reflecting in the body length mirror and hitting him right in the eyes. Yunho covered his head with one of the many pillows surrounding him. A few seconds later his phone went off again and he gave up on catching some extra z’s. Sitting up, hair messy and face puffy, he rubbed the sleep from the corners of his eyes and squinted at the bright screen of his phone. The numbers showed 10:03 AM and below was your name followed by a picture of you staring at a sunflower stopping a few inches above your head. Entranced by the image he took of you a few days ago, when he was free from schedule, he startled as his home screen appeared with a message popping up seconds after.

You [10:06 AM] Does coffee sound like a good excuse to spend time together? :P

If there was one thing Yunho cherished more than his bed then it would be coffee. Black coffee that tasted bitter but warmed him up like a cup of hot chocolate. It dawned on him that he only got around four hours of sleep and he needed at least six to function like a guy who gets the recommended amount, but saying no to you was worse than making a kid cry by simply offering a smile.

Yunho [10:08 AM] Do you even need to ask? I’ll pick you up in ten 

Yunho [10:08 AM] Btw you don’t need an excuse to see me ;)

He threw on random clothes scattered around the room, a white shirt and black pants – but not before giving them a few excessively sniffs – and his obligatory leather jacket, the one with fuzz on the inside. Falling asleep with wet hair came to bite him in the rear as the strands wouldn’t cooperate now, refusing to lay down tidely. Lucky for Yunho, nine out of ten times he could just cover it with his helmet. Catching one last look in the mirror he sighed at the dark circles under his eyes. He quickly ventured into his bathroom and dragged the red-ish eyeliner pencil close to his lash line. It looked messy and nowhere near neat as when Seonghwa did it for him but it was alright. If you didn’t sneer at a sweaty Yunho with black liner smeared everywhere then you probably wouldn’t now either.

The sound of his motorcycle echoed through the block and he ignored the dirty looks passed from the elderly women sitting outside. As promised, Yunho was in front of your apartment with a few seconds to spare. He killed the engine and edged the kickstand into position with his left foot. While waiting on you, he unclasped the spare helmet from the chassis of the bike and made sure it was clean. Hongjoong, the leader and bassist of Blue Bird, had yet to get his driver’s license and would catch lift from the other guys which left everyone with a really small helmet in their possession. Yunho just hoped it would fit you.

The sound of someone clearing their voice caught his attention and as Yunho turned the breathe was knocked out of his lungs. He liked to think he was getting immune to the effect your skirts had on him, but no one warned him for the white lacy tank tops especially not when the material was hidden beneath your blue cardigan. Trying to play it off, he thrusted the helmet in your hands.

“I didn’t know you had a motorcycle,” you started and checked it out. 

Whatever brand it was, it looked cool. You especially liked how it played into Yunho’s rock star style and matched his hair; entirely black with red design stripes going from front to back.

“Are you okay with riding?”

The dirty thoughts were pushed to the far back of his mind as he reminded himself of who he was talking to. You weren’t just a random chick he picked up after one of his shows; figuratively. 

You hummed and stepped closer, your hand hovering over the seat. “I think so. As long as I don’t fall off.”

“As if I’d ever let that happen. Here, lemme help you with the helmet.” 

“It’s fine, Yuyu, you’ve proven yourself a gentleman multiple times and I think I can do this.”

Hearing nothing beyond the unexpected nickname, his brain crashed like a hard disk from overheating. Thoughts a jumbled mess where the only thing making sense was the new abbreviation of his name. Yunho gripped the helmet as if it were a lifeline keeping him from straying away with the tidal wave. The gentle touch of your palm against his brought him back to reality.

“Are you okay?” 

Chuckling like he always did when you caught him being weird, he shook his head and gently pushed the helmet over your own.

“Just a bit tired–” the worried scrunch of your brows stopped him mid sentence “–it’s nothing to worry about I promise. I’ll be back to normal after we get some caffeine pumping in my veins.”

“Were you sleeping? Oh, no, I woke you up, didn’t I? Yunho, I told you to tell me off when practices were running late!”

“And you know I’d never bring myself to do that, I like spending time with you.”

“And I’d rather not have you running on coffee and zero sleep! I could’ve just made myself a cup at home.”

“But then we wouldn’t be here enjoying each other’s company. Now, is this alright? Try shaking your head a bit and see if it's not too tight or too loose.”

You did as told and the headgear barely budged which earned you a thumbs up from Yunho. He then flicked the visor down and you let out a ‘hey’ in protest. Sucking on the inside of your cheek, you gingerly studied him. While he looked sleep deprived he didn’t act the part, and you didn’t know if he did it to keep you from worrying or if he was genuinely alright.

“It’s alright. Not too tight or loose, but listen! The coffee’s on me,” you declared and before he could protest you quickly filled the short silence, “or I’m never going with you anywhere again. I’m serious, Yunho.”

“...Only if you call me that again.”

“Call you what? Yunho?”

“No. The other thing, y’know…”

A smile broke out on your face when you realized what he was implying.

“Yuyu?”

The rockstar whipped his head so fast you thought he’d snap it off his neck.

“Oh, you are mean.”

“No, I just did what you asked me to!”

The inbuilt bluetooth did a great job transmitting your sugary laughter and God was he proud of himself for thinking ahead. He could never get enough of it and it was like music to his ears and it warmed him better than the sun of a summer’s day.

“Put this on.” He handed you his leather jacket.

“What about you?” 

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, I’m a big boy.”

Yunho helped you mount the motorcycle, giving you tips on how to swing your feet and where to hold so the whole thing wouldn’t fall over. Not that it was possible as his legs were glued to the pavement. 

“And your hands go here.” He grabbed your wrists and placed them around his stomach so your front was flushed to his back. “Don’t be afraid to hold on.” 

The contact had your face burning and you wondered if he was anywhere near as flustered. You wondered if he was always this touchy or was it some exclusive treatment. 

The local coffee shop you frequently visited or stopped by before your shift at the preschool wasn’t packed, which came as a surprise considering it was almost lunch hour but nothing you complained about.

“Okay, what are you getting?” You asked and gazed up at the oversized menu on the wall behind the workers. 

Maybe you’d get a strawberry macchiato or a caramel one, you couldn’t decide– oh, the matcha tea didn’t sound too bad either. Yunho hummed in fake wonder with his eyes trained on an oblivious you. He didn’t need to read the menu to know what he was getting.

“I think I’ll take a caramel macchiato, I mean I had the strawberry one last time so it’s only fair I try something else now,” you argued mostly to yourself and like your coffee choice, Yunho found the rambling to be cute.

“That makes sense but I don’t think there are rules for what you can drink and when you can drink it, sweetpea.”

Toes touching the wall and hands holding the counter for support, you tilted your head backwards and looked Yunho right in the eyes. The top of your head barely grazed his chest and he restrained himself from gently grabbing your hips. You were slightly taken back at the pet name that rolled off his tongue. You expected a lot but not that.

“Sweetpea? That’s a new one.” 

“I figured you’ve heard most of them so I wanted to try something new.”

Trying to keep your eagerness on the low you stifled a giggle. 

“Ahhhh, you wanted to stand out, is that it?” 

“I didn’t know it was a crime to speak my truth, I guess I’ll just have to call you something cheesy like petal or sweet cheeks.”

“If it makes you feel better, no one's called me either of those things, Yuyu. So you’re doing a good job at both standing out and being cheesy.”

The tips of his ears burned and Yunho internally groaned as all his thousand good comebacks flew out the window, and right when he thought he was going to embarrass himself the barista – unintentionally – swooped in and saved the day. 

“Welcome to Star’s Coffee, are you ready to place your order?”

Jumping abruptly from Yunho, you politely smiled and nodded.

“Yu–yes. I’ll take a caramel macchiato”

“Will that be hot or iced?”

“Iced please, and then we’ll take a…” 

“An iced americano,” Yunho quickly filled in, “Black with no milk, thank you.”

As agreed you swiped your card and paid for the drinks even if it hurt Yunho’s pride. Deciding to sit at a table by the window, he quickly ran ahead of you and pulled out a chair and beamed brightly. It fit right in with the other chivalrous gestures Yunho spoiled you with and while you weren’t used to being pampered, you could totally get behind it. Before he could occupy the seat across from you, the barista’s voice stole the spotlight as she called out your orders and he was already walking in her direction.

“A caramel macchiato for m’lady and an iced americano for the fine gentleman keeping her company.” 

You looked up at Yunho and thanked him through a giggle as he handed you the beverage. An identical paper cup was cradled in his hand, fingers wrapping all the way around and nearly making it as if he was holding air. He occupied the seat across from you and as he got comfortable, you jokingly raised the drink and smiled as the cups bumped against each other. Taking your first sips together, you waited for the sweetness to hit your tongue and cringed at the strong metallic taste that followed instead. 

“Oh, God that’s sweet,” Yunho exclaimed as the heavily sugared coffee exploded in his mouth. 

“And this is horrible! How can you, ugh– How can you even drink this? It’s strong and bitter and give me back my coffee!” 

“Coffee?! That’s like unicorn piss mixed with water and sugar, how can you drink that is my question.”

“At least it doesn’t taste like something straight out of my grandma’s garden,” you bit back and tried washing out the dirt-ish flavor with extra big sips of your so-called unicorn piss coffee. 

Spoiler: it didn’t help.

“I don’t get it,” Mingi voiced from beside Yunho, fingers quickly fiddling with the joysticks on his Xbox controller.

The drummer looked nothing like on their nights out. Face bare from makeup and his usually gelled hair was combed and took on the resemblance of a cloud. Instead of skin tight clothes he had a worn out Fall Out Boy shirt he bought a few years back and paired it off with some loose fitted pajama bottoms. His neck and fingers were bare from kilos of jewelry, it was just his colored nails and chest tattoo that were still there. Yunho took ‘bare’ to another level as he walked around in his underwear and just a pair of Spiderman socks.

The boys sat on the sofa which was barely big enough to fit both of them, knees touching and eyes glued to the TV-screen. The gaming session had been running for at least an hour or two and the street outside Yunho’s apartment was slowly being emptied of cars and people.  Yunho would soon have to start getting ready for the dinner he invited you out to. Reservations were made at a little pricier restaurant for people with enough money to be deemed important or idols and celebrities who wanted some privacy from the prying eyes of locals and camera lenses. Yunho obviously didn’t have the money for it but with a few pulled strings and a call to his friend in the fashion industry, he made it work. 

“What don’t you get?” 

The question came a few seconds later and it wasn’t anything Mingi paid attention to as they were both occupied with protecting their base from demons and gargoyles. 

“Why you don’t just ask her out. You’ve been hounding her for like, what? Four months now?”

“I haven’t been hounding after her,” Yunho argued, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in a sneer.

“Dude.” 

Pausing the game Mingi turned to his childhood best friend and the guy had the audacity to stare back at him with an equally deadpanned look.

“What? I haven’t.” 

“Don’t what me, Yunho. Is this thing serious or are you just having fun because from what I understand she’s not a one and done type of girl, is she?” 

Almost as if defeated, the lead guitarist slumped back against the couch and sighed. Mingi was right, you weren’t just a girl he picked up from a nightclub hoping for a quickie that would leave him waking up to an absent space the morning after. You were a girl who liked to take things slow. Three dates and maybe on the fourth one you’d reward him with a peck on the cheek. If he was lucky you’d hold his hand as you walk side by side, slowly unraveling each other’s preferences. Early bird or night owl, cats or dogs, sunrise or sunset, the list was endless and he’d know more about you than his own best friend by the end of the day. 

Gigs, parties and one night stands were fun. It was a fast life that made him feel alive, like he had a purpose being on stage besides signing autographs for random people or finding a minimum wage job. Then he met you, the girl with the pretty bows in her hair and an unhealthy addiction to strawberry flavored pocky rather than his cancer sticks, and realized you brought him that joy too. Through the jokes you could barely get out between your giggles or your affectionate yet worrisome words reminding him to drink two glasses of water for every cup of coffee he poured. And it was always a pleasant surprise waking up with you knocking on his door, a freshly baked batch of brownies in hand as you bid him a good morning despite it being three in the afternoon. It was the small things Yunho liked, but also despised, because if you were everything good – the white marble in his sack of charcoal – what was he?

“I don’t know,” Yunho finally answered.

“Don’t know if it’s serious or…?”

“I don’t know what I want. If I want a serious relationship or just someone to pass time with, and I know how that sounds; it’s fucking awful, and she doesn’t deserve that nor would she be up for it either. She dates to marry, and well, let’s be honest here I’m not the guy she wants to spend the rest of her life with anyway.”

Yunho pressed ‘resume’, seemingly putting a stop to the conversation he wasn’t currently in the mood for. A conversation he purposely avoided every single time Mingi questioned his lack of action with the exact words of ‘put a ring on her finger, man'. And it was funny the first three times then it just became a walking reminder of why Yunho precisely didn’t do it. Having had enough of his friend's stupid antics, Mingi stood up and parked himself in front of the TV. Hands on his hips and bottom lip jutted out.

“That’s bullshit, Yun. I get being indecisive. Your last serious relationship was ages ago and it’s weird going from being single to taken in one night, but the thing about not being the one for her? Don’t be fucking stupid.”

Growing agitated himself, Yunho paused the game again and tossed the controller onto the sofa as he looked up at Mingi with tired eyes.

“Yeah, what good can I bring her? Tell me, Mingi. I’m nothing. My sleeping schedule is fucked and I work more than twelve hours a day for a minimum pay. If it weren’t for Yeosang’s parents I’d practically be living on the street. I eat take out for breakfast, lunch and dinner and have no college degree and probably won’t be getting one anytime soon. She’s educated, has a respectable job and lives a healthy life that won’t coax her into bad habits. She shouldn’t be associated with someone like me. It isn’t ideal for her to be with me, it’s not safe.”

“Oh my God, would you shut the fuck up?”

Yunho startled at the sudden raise in tone, not expecting Mingi to get so worked up over nothing. 

“What does that even mean; too good for you? Yunho, dude, you’re the most selfless guy I know. You’re a kind, funny and quick witted gentleman who cares about those around you and always tries to make everyone smile, even if you’re going through shit yourself. So if you aren’t worthy of her then I should just stop looking for a partner all together! We are going to be rock stars, yeah, people look at us like we’re out of our mind or worship Satan, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t deserving of living like a human. And don’t even start with the homeless shit. I’d never let that happen…”

The little speech slapped Yunho across the face and only Mingi’s heaves of air resonated through the apartment. The two rarely got into arguments and while this conversation wouldn’t be jutted down as one, it still left Yunho at unease. Usually being the one to reprimand his friends, he didn’t know how to act while on the receiving end. Especially not when it was Mingi – the softie who took hours to eat a slice of bread and liked being called a princess – beating sense into him. 

“It’s true she’s good for you, Yunho, and I doubt she’d stay around if you weren’t good for her either. She’s kind, not gullible.”

On the other side of town you sat before your vanity mirror and carefully applied make up. Yuqi sat on your bed, fingers hastily scrolling through social media apps and updating you about the recent gossip at her workplace.

“I can’t believe you’re not telling me anything about this mysterious man!” Yuqi exclaimed from your bed, legs in a pretzel position and fingers frozen mid air as she stared at the picture you airdropped her. “And the fact that I only now find out you’ve been seeing someone, that hurts you know!”

It wasn’t intentional. You knew if you told them a super cute and handsome man asked for your number, they’d rush right up to the counter and harass any guy who fit your description which, admittedly, only a few did. After the long night out you were all tipsy and too focused on getting everyone safely home that the handsome stranger was pushed to the back of your mind and forgotten until the next day when you woke up to a message from an unknown number. 

Everyone was so caught up in their lives that you hadn’t thought of telling them about Yunho, then the whole rock star-identity was revealed and you certainly couldn’t tell them about him after that – already knowing what they thought about guys like that – not even your best friend who with just one glance knew something was different. Not necessarily bad, but just different. The outline of two massive hearts reflected in your eyes and you wore a smile so wide she thought you won the lottery, she didn’t stop to think the reason behind your gleeful expression could be because of a man. Not that you were an untouched woman, you had done a few things here and there, but because you were selective with your partners. So to hear you gave away your number and meet up with Yunho on multiple occasions piqued her interest.

“I told you it wasn’t on purpose! We were just both busy with work,” you pouted and applied mascara to your eyes.

“I know babes I’m just messing with you.”

Yuqi slumped back on your bed and tapped open your Instagram following list, quickly trying to find the guy you had been ‘unintentionally hiding’ from her.

“Are you like a thing now?”

“No or at least I don’t think so.”

Abandoning her search at your words, Yuqi put her phone down and stared at you through the mirror.

“What do you mean? Either you’re or you aren’t.”

“Well we haven’t really talked about that sort of stuff. When we go out we just let the conversation flow and I mean, it’s not like he’s explicitly asked me out on a date-date. And neither have I, for the record. We just go out for lunch or dinner, sometimes coffee, like we do with the girls.”

There was also the fact that he was going to be a rock-star who didn’t even have time to wipe his ass, let alone be in a relationship.

“Yeah, but I don’t invite you to my house and cook you an expensive dinner with expensive ass wine.”

“No, you’d rather tell me how you’d take me then and there if you weren’t painfully straight.”

She waved her hand in dismissal and pushed up to sit on her knees. “Guys don’t just do all those things if they aren’t interested, babes. You know that, you’ve dated a hundred guys before.”

“Yeah, but this is Yunho and not one of my previous dates. Maybe he just wants to be friends, like permanently.”

“You are insufferable. The guy likes you! I mean, you’ve already gone on a hundred mini-dates so this doesn’t come as that big of a surprise but why the hell would he ask you to dinner – only giving you the instructions to dress accordingly – on a Friday night if he absolutely wasn’t smitten with you?”

You sighed and closed the eyeshadow palette. In the softest voice possible you whispered out, “To get in my pants…” 

“Oh, sweetie.” 

Yuqi was up in seconds, throwing her arms gently around you and caressing the flesh of your biceps. 

“Guys are douchebags and I can’t say for sure but what you’ve told me about Yunho, he doesn’t sound like the type to do that.”

“I know but then I start thinking about the what’s and the if’s and it all leads back to that one thing. It would be easier if he just said what he was thinking and feeling out loud.”

“Considering you guys haven’t talked about more serious things, you don’t know each other on that level. You don’t know what’s going through his head, if he’s been wronged before or is scared of commitment, bubs. Maybe he’s scared you don’t feel the same and is trying to play it safe, waiting for a sign that indicates you want more.”

Or maybe he was scared of what his bandmates would say, what their little group of fans would say. Maybe he wasn’t interested in girls like you at all, mayne he was drawn to the…flashier ones who were there for a good time and not a long one. A small sliver of you hung on the hope that it didn’t have to mean anything. That not all rock stars were up for that dirty and fast life.

“I baked him my specialty,” you pointed out, that alone was enough to tell him how you felt without vocalizing it.

“And I’m sure the brownies were delicious, bubs, but he doesn’t know they are reserved for special people, now does he?”

You shook your head and the frown that followed really didn’t suit your dolled up face. There was no time to sulk as Yunho would be arriving in roughly half an hour, but the thought of your intimate gesture flying over his head as friendliness set a bitter taste on your tongue. The thing you could think of to be more obvious was to decorate the dessert with swirls of chocolate reading out ‘I like you’ and while it would be a cute way to confess, you weren’t that confident.

“Enough sulking,” Yuqi suddenly declared and pulled you up by your wrists. “What are we wearing, huh? Are we going for something bold, something that will give poor Yunho a hard time keeping his thoughts in check or are we leaning for a more cutesy approach?”

By the way your lips curved up in a smirk, Yuqi knew exactly what you were going for.

The nerves danced across Yunho’s skin as he aligned the bike with the curb outside your apartment. He stole a quick glance up at your window and sighed. This would be the closest thing to a date and he wanted to impress you, so in good ol’ Yunho fashion he planned ahead. First he’d treat you to a tasty meal at one of the best restaurants in the city, dessert was a given so that would be the next stop and if the night didn’t turn too cold maybe he’d decide on a quick stroll across the Dongho Bridge, but not until he knew what the weather would be like, it was still late February. Otherwise a quick ride through town wasn’t a bad idea either but it left no space for the little things like hand holding, unless he wanted to jeopardize your safety.

Yunho sent you a short message, notifying his arrival and leaned against his motorcycle. There was a slight breeze in the air and the weather wasn’t too hot indicating the approaching end of winter, and Yunho wondered whether to scratch the promenade from his plans. Too caught up in his own mind he missed the apartment door swinging open as you sashayed out, head held high and purse in hand.

The click-clack of your boots snapped Yunho out of his daze and eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets at your appearance. The cutesy pastel colored clothes, bows and lace were replaced with something out of your usual wardrobe; a short black dress that clung to your body like a second skin. The hem made it to mid thigh and Yunho just knew it’d ride up even shorter when you’d sit down. The dress was backless and left your shoulders exposed while the front accentuated your chest. You looked hot and you’d be even hotter with his leather jacket on. Your designated heart necklace was still in place and you paired it off with small golden hoops. A pair of leather boots reached up to your knees, revealing a snippet of glowy skin (thanks to your body lotion).

“You look good,” you said and smiled, lips painted a deep red and Yunho imagined the trail of kisses it would leave on his neck.

Clearing his throat, he cast a look at his own attire and chuckled. He too was wearing something out of his usual closet. Instead of ripped jeans and a fishnet shirt, he borrowed one of Mingi’s old high school suits that still miraculously fit. He looked sharp and important, something Yunho wasn’t all that used to, but it balanced it out with his scarlet helmet and motorcycle.

“Well, I couldn’t let you take all of the spotlight, now could I?” 

Dressed as a couple even the universe rooted for you to snap the translucents restraints of fear.

“Before I forget.” He snatched the single rose tucked neatly between the windshield and handlebars of the bike. “You are absolutely beautiful.”

Day met night as you reached for the flower, fingers brushing against Yunho’s. You smelled the red petals like the main girls do in movies but with a real smile that their fabricated ones would never reach. When Lord Byron claimed chivalry was dead he didn’t take count for men like Jeong Yunho. Men who bought their dates their favorite flowers after mentioning it one time in passing, men who gave up their jackets when a light breeze swiveled through town or men who never let their eyes wander from one diamond to another. While the acts were nothing of a grand gesture they still sent squeezes of affection straight to your heart. Taking it as a sign of the stars aligning and sending a normal guy your way for the first time in what seemed to be forever, you allowed yourself to relax and follow the stream.

“Right when I thought you slipped up.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

Like always Yunho helped you with the helmet and to get on the bike, and heat pooled beneath the skin of your cheeks as you huddled closer to him. Your legs were glued together and slung over one side of the motorcycle, and Yunho promised he’d drive slow so you wouldn’t fall off – as if that was ever going to happen – with the order that you hold on tight. The thrownless flower was in your hold as you reached around him. He patted your hand twice, the mute signal that he was starting the engine. Throughout the whole fifteen minute drive, Yunho refused to disclose the name of the restaurant, arguing it would ruin the suspense and feigned hurt when you said he hadn’t even planned anything. You couldn’t have been more wrong.

With your arm looped through Yunho’s, you approached a tall building that reminded you of a hotel and just the exterior had you gasping, fingers pressed to your lips. The outside was sculpted with details from ancient Greek architecture. Marble columns pushed out from the black walls as pediments marked the beginning of the second floor. The rest of the building changed hues from black marble to beautiful cream colored bricks full of golden rimmed windows and black balcony railings with swirls and fleur-de-lis. You walked the little path leading up to the double doors and suddenly the pavement underneath turned soft and drowned out the click-clack of your heels. The carpet underneath was a rich red and you were curious how they kept it nice and clean from rain and other mud. By the entrance stood an elderly man dressed in a neat costume, his white gloved hand already pushing down the golden doorknob at the sight of guests and greeted you with kind eyes. 

Your whisper of Yunho’s name tugged at the corners of his lips and he wanted to tell you that there was more, keeping his excitement at bay he reached and patted the hand clutching his elbow. Allowing Yunho to guide you, he stopped at what seemed to be a reception where a young lady with a bright smile and red lips waited.

“Welcome to the Red Ruby.”

Completely lost in the details of the place, you didn’t bother tuning in on the brief exchange. The inside was even prettier, you came to realize. It was a small space not much bigger than your living room but probably held more worth than your whole apartment. A big chandelier hung in the center of the room that reflected against the black and white tiled floor. The left side sported a big entryway that led to a big dining area. Its primary colors ranged from red hues to matte gold. Further inside you made out a few tables draped over with long tablecloths and exquisite centerpieces bigger than your head. The chairs were big and soft to the eyes, made out of the finest velvet material you ever borne witness to.

“Thank you. We have a reservation under the name Jung Wooyoung.”

If you weren’t so mesmerized by the place, you’d give him a weird look and ask about this so-called Jung Wooyoung.

The lady scrolled through her tablet and smiled as she came to a halt. “Of course. The elevator will take you to the upper floor and my colleague will further assist you. Have a wonderful evening.”

“Thank you,” Yunho replied once again and gave you a soft tug, finally catching your attention. 

“Are we not sitting there?” You nodded towards the majority of people who were happily dining and conversing in the red room.

“Not quite. Only specific people are allowed in the Red Ruby, besides those seats don’t require a reservation and it’s a lot more open than where we’re sitting.”

Specific people meaning celebrities, actors, important people. Not locals like yourself. The ding of the elevator cut the conversation short as the doors parted and for the second time in ten minutes, you gasped. Flashing lights of the outside world stared back at you through the windows stretching from the floor to the high ceilings. Blue and purple hues of the night sky blended with the fading orange color. As the sun was slowly setting, the moon made its appearance with smaller stars dashed across the dark blue canvas, shining brighter than any streetlight and airplane. The view resembled a watercolor painting and its beauty couldn’t even be captured with the most developed camera.

As promised, another worker – a man not older than yourself – waited by the doors wearing a maroon red suit that was adjusted to his precise measures, a towel thrown over his forearm and hair slicked back with gel.

“Reservation for Mr. Jung?” He asked and Yunho nodded. “Right this way. My name is Sieun and I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

The second floor – what you soon came to realize was actually the twentieth – was a stark contrast from the dining area downstairs. The whole outerwall consisted of just windows with an overview of the heart of South Korea and the interior took on more of a modern design with black and white colored seats, marble tables and crystal chandeliers that did little to lighten the room. The floor was pipsqueak clean and you could even see your own reflection in the black tiles. Instead of flower bushes, literal trees popped out every now and then and you couldn’t figure out if they were real or manufactured. Mouth open and eyes wide you were at a loss for words as the waiter led you to a table further away from the other guests. Two menus bigger than your head laid neatly on the surface and the waiter left with a promise of someone coming back to take your orders. 

“This is beautiful,” you exhaled, eyes glued to the lively city below. 

“Right?” Yunho smiled, chest exploding with warmth and pride. 

While you were occupied with watching the ant-like people and shimmering stars, Yunho stared at you as if the view outside wasn’t anything special. And it wasn’t, not with you sitting there looking breathtakingly beautiful. 

“Personally, I prefer their food over any other restaurant. Their yakisoba is the closest thing I’ve tasted to what they have in Japan.”

“I have no doubt, their water probably tastes like heaven, too. I mean did you see that crystal fountain, in the middle of the room?”

Yunho chuckled at your words and it tore your eyes from the windows. “I can assure you their water is just normal tap water.”

As you opened your mouth, Sieun came back and the ten minutes of thinking were up.

“Are you ready to place your orders?”

“Yes, please.” Yunho closed his menu despite not taking a look inside. “We’ll take a full course dinner with your evening's specials, that way we can try a little bit of everything.”

“Of course, sir and in the meantime would you like anything to drink? If I may propose one of our finest wines, perhaps?”

Eyes on you, Yunho quirked a brow letting you decide. Picking up on the memo, you cleared your throat and agreed to the proposition. Sieun nodded and bowed politely before venturing back to the culinary side of the restaurant. 

“This will cost you a fortune,” you sighed and fiddled with your fingers. “And I don’t know what you thought but by the looks of the interior, the food’s probably a month’s worth of salary, my salary.”

Yunho laughed at that. As if he’d ever let you near the bill, let alone split it.

“Don’t think about that, let's just enjoy it and I’ll deal with the rest.”

“Yunho,” you began, leaning forward and mustering up your biggest puppy eyes that he was quick to shut down.

“I know you’re worrying, but seriously don’t. It’s a favor I’ve asked of my friend so it won’t make a dent in my wallet. Besides I wanted to do this for you, okay. Something nice.”

“But why?”

The overwhelming feeling to reach over the table and place his palm over yours was stronger than anything pull he felt before, but he kept it glued to its current position and flashed a smile that made his cheeks pop and eyes crinkle.

“Because it’s what you deserve.” 

Preparations for upcoming gigs and events were truly draining him. Practices started early in the morning, hours before the sun peeked over the horizon, and ended after the moon was high up in the sky. It left barely any time for the Blue Bird members to indulge in their own interests. Yunho wanted to spend as much time with you as but it was quite difficult as your schedules didn’t align, mainly because of his impractical working hours. Instead of going out for lunch or dining in grandiose places you couldn’t afford without giving up a kidney on the blackmarket, you opted for quick coffee breaks and late night drives to vacant places; the beach, some random hill with a great view of the city, a kids’ playground.

The clock was well past midnight and your eyes were surprisingly wide open, brain awake and ready to run laps around your apartment. How you’d survive the morning shift was beyond you, but with the faith that it wasn’t anything an extra spoon of sugar couldn’t fix, aimlessly continued counting each bump on your popcorn ceiling, willing the time to move faster for something – someone – to happen. Days off were spent alone in your apartment reading books to rid of your boredom but every once in a while you found yourself yearning for even the tiniest interactions with a certain puppy eyed man who also happened to be a future rock-star carrying a calendar with all three-hundred and sixty-five boxes marked. Maybe that’s why you didn’t hesitate at his sudden offer of going for a late night walk to buy slushies; his treat as the message read.

“I’m surprised you were still awake.” Was the first thing Yunho said as you ventured out of the apartment complex. 

You pushed the black beanie further down on your head and by the creases around your eyes Yunho knew you were smiling hard beneath your white scarf. A breeze blew through the neighborhood and that white hoodie of yours looked to do little against the chilly night. Yunho pondered if he should wrap you up in his leather jacket or clasp your hand in his – if daring enough, maybe even braid your fingers together – and hide them in the pocket of the black material. 

“What? I don’t always sleep early…” 

The sprinkle of sulk to your words squeezed his heart affectionately and he imagined a little pout to your look, head free from his previously temping thoughts.

“No, but you never stay awake to see the clock change from PM to AM.”

“Hey!” 

Yunho moved away as your arm swung in his direction. Chuckles bubbling out of him as he jogged ahead of your punches, they barely did any damage anyway but it was endearing to see you run after him.

“I’m kidding, kinda.” 

“Where are we going anyway…Won’t your friends worry?”

“Not really, I mean even if they did it’s not like we’re doing anything illegal. We’re just getting some slushies.”

Your face scrunched together like you bit into something sour and lips set in a thin line. While you enjoyed Yunho’s company more than you wanted to admit for your own mental health, you also despised it. There was something so gut wrenching about not being able to hold his hand as you walked down the streets of Seoul or adjust his unruly strands of hair after a stronger gust of air messed it up. The worst thing about it all was that his future image was the last thing holding you back, it was the fact you weren’t anything but friends.

“So, what have you been up to today? How was work?”

“It was alright, a bit annoying with the pollen season having everyone act up and sneeze every five minutes but it’s nothing I’m not used to and the kids are cute so it evens it out. What about you, I thought practice wouldn’t be running later than eight?”

It wasn’t supposed to but in the last quarter someone suggested a change in the performance with an added solo, and the three hours of practice were done in vain as they had to re-learn the most important part. Yunho loved his members, his brothers, but they sure could get on his nerves at the most unexpected time. Safe to say the sudden change in Yunho’s demeanor had everyone on edge – despite him not trying to show it – and they were diligent in their learning. It still didn’t stop Hongjoong from having a talk, or a check-in as the leader liked to call it, with Yunho. After some brief but believable words of assurement he was off the hook like nothing. Yunho was lucky he roomed with Yeosang, their manager, and not with Hongjoong. The lead guitarist would never leave the apartment without the elder breathing down his neck. Yeosang was more laid back like that, keeping to himself but still indulging in Yunho’s interests every once in a while and simultaneously taking care of him in his manager role.

“Yeah, no, we had to change up the performance so we were running later than expected…It’s crazy that after all these years it still surprises me that practice doesn’t end on time.”

“I think that’s just wishful thinking, everyone has it Yuyu.”

“What’s your wishful thinking then, sunshine?”

“Well wouldn’t you like to know?”

A laugh skipped through the chilly march night. The smug words he once threw at you long before you knew who he was coming to bite him in the rear; cutie-pie style. Eventually the all too familiar corner store – in which you spent way too many mornings contemplating between choco-chips and strawberry pocky – came to view and the conversation dissolved. The young boy behind the counter paid you no mind, sleep evidently tugging at his eyelids as he barely kept upright in his chair. Working in tandem you separated like the branches of a tree, one pouring up the slushies and the other filling a basket with snacks. 

Despite how much Yunho disliked seeing you reach for your wallet, he couldn’t do anything about it – as you argued it to be unfair if he paid for it all – and settled with a mental note lingering in the back of his mind to pay you back. Plastic bag in hand and card tucked back in your wallet, you slowly walked towards the exit.

“I’ll take a pack of red Marlboros, too.” 

Out of all the facts about Yunho this was the most surprising one, followed right by him being in a rockband and never having watched Twilight. You stepped out in the open with Yunho close behind, the outline of the pack in his pocket and a slushie in each hand, one brown – seemingly coca cola flavored – and the other a pretty mix of blue and red.

“Thank you,” you murmured as he took the bag from you in exchange for the drink. 

“Come on, let’s go somewhere away from the street.” 

Yunho’s hand hovered over your lower back as you turned into a random street with different local restaurants and stores, all closed at this late hour much to your pleasure. The further you went, the fewer shops there were and more houses instead. The neighborhood was on an uphill path leading to the top of the mountain and soon a set of stairs popped out of the sleek pavement making it easier to venture by foot. To break the silence settled over you, Yunho first slurped on his slushie.

“Everything alright?”

The question worked as a needle breaking the layer of a balloon, bringing you out of the bubble you were stuck in. 

“Hmmm, yeah I was just lost in my thoughts.”

“Are you tired? We can walk back home if you want.”

“No, no! I’m good, I promise.”

Yunho bobbed his head up and down, bag gently swinging from between his fingers and then put down on the ground beside his plastic cup.

“Okay, then at least take this.” Immediately you opened your mouth to say no, but Yunho wasn’t finished. “And I’m not taking a no for an answer.”

Your body was covered in a layer of warmth – the warmth of his jacket – and you gave him a small smile, a thank you for not letting you freeze to death even though that was impossible. 

“Don’t get sick on me now, Yuyu. If you feel just the smallest tingle of a cold you tell me right away, okay.” 

He pouted, “Why not? Won’t you come and take care of me then, hmmm? Some chicken soup to heal my tummy.”

The motion of his hand rubbing against his stomach had you giggling. The cheerful expression that made him fall pathetically in love with you was back and that was better than any jacket or hotpacket to keep him warm. 

You trudged up the last flight of stairs and in front was a bus stop big enough for two, maybe three people if you could squeeze in on the tiny bench. The road wasn’t connected to the path and continued in two directions, one going further up the hill and the other leading down and around the neighborhood to what you assumed was the city. The bus stop was placed right on the curve of the road with a great view of Seoul. It wasn’t anything like looking out the windows of the Red Ruby, this was less hectic. Mountains nearly blended with the dark sky and the distant lights of cars and billboards twinkled light stars, you were sure if you walked a little bit more out of the city the real stars would prevail. It was much quieter here too, no chatter of people or overproduced vehicles making whirring noises. 

You leaned your hand against the road barrier and smiled as the wind kissed your cheeks. Following your lead, Yunho did the same but with both hands and knees slightly bent as he put his whole weight against the metal fence. Turning your head to the left, you were once again taken back by his beauty. Features perfectly illuminated by the moonlight and jaw sharp as ever you couldn’t help but step back, snatch your phone up and tap open the camera icon. 

“What are you doing?” Yunho asked, amused as he caught sight of your abrupt movements.

“Don’t move! Look out again, it’s great Instagram material and although I’m no professional photographer I think they’ll still turn out amazing. Just fix your hair a bit.”

Heat spreading to his cheeks, Yunho bashfully smiled and did as told. Looking through the rectangular phone screen you moved around a little, stepping closer and inching a bit to the left before completely freezing up in place. The perfect shot was in view and with a few instructions aimed at the unofficial model, you snapped a handful of photos. In some where Yunho looked mysteriously out, others where his gaze was locked in on the circular camera alternating between a relaxed expression and cheek-popping smiles.

“Look.” 

You pushed the device in his hands and waited patiently for his reaction. 

“Maybe I should buy you a camera,” he said more so to himself but it still drew a sharp gasp out of you.

“Don’t you dare!”

And all you got back was a teasing wink, telling you your words entered in one ear and out the other.

“Send these to me, would ya? It’s been a while since I posted something on Instagram.”

While you got busy airdropping him the pictures, Yunho frantically patted the front and back of his jeans, searching for something that was in the pocket of his coat.

Clearing his throat and gauging your reaction, he said, “Can you pass me the cigarettes?”

In all honesty, you forgot the packet was even in your possession. Digging around in the pockets – first the left and then the right – you passed him the packet along with a red lighter in silence mainly because there was nothing to be said.

“Does it…Will it– I mean…Ah.”

“You can go ahead and light one, it doesn’t disturb me if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh-okay. Wait, let me just.” In three quick strides he stepped around you. “Now the smoke won’t get in your face and clothes.”

You weren’t new to the smell or taste of tobacco. Having friends who smoked and even took a few puffs when offered, you quickly realized it wasn’t something to your liking. The taste was worse than any cup of black coffee and you’d opt for the caffeine filled drinks rather than those sticks. Despite that you couldn’t stop staring, almost as if mesmerized, as Yunho opened the sealed packet, tore out a cigarette with his teeth and lit it with a flick of the lighter. You definitely couldn’t stop staring when a whistle of smoke blew out from between his lips making him somehow more attractive than he already was.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t do it often, just when I’m stressed.” 

He tapped the cigarette ash into his empty slushie cup and took another drag of the intoxicating stick. You watched it mix with the few droplets of blue water and replayed his answer. 

“Are you stressed right now?”

Always the gentleman, Yunho blew out a cloudy stream of smoke in the opposite direction before looking at you. 

“With you here? Not a chance.”

You could never find anything to hate about Yunho. He was funny, kind hearted, thoughtful, smart, handsome, everything, and yet you really disliked the way your heart fluttered at his cheesy lines that would fit right in a K-drama. Your face burned like the end of his cigarette and you forced yourself not to look away, cheeks hurting from your wide smile. With one last drag of his cigarette he extinguished it and let it fall in his cup. Eyes finding yours again he smiled goofily, tracing all crevices of your face, finding you as beautiful as the first time he saw you. 

“I really, really want to kiss you right now.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, the blood practically boiling beneath your skin and fingers tightly clutching the long sleeves of his coat. Of all the days you spent with him, from the extravagant dates to domestic hangouts at your place, not once did you think your first shared kiss would be under the stars while dressed with minimum effort. Nonetheless you really wanted to kiss him too.

“What’s stopping you?”

The last string keeping Yunho from doing what he’s been dreaming of snapped and he quickly dropped everything in his hands to cup your face. Thumb gently caressed your cheek like he was molding clay into a beautiful piece of art, his palm rested against your jaw, fingers long enough to graze the back of your neck as the other hand fell to your waist, the touch burning through the thick layer of his coat. High on his touch, your own hands clasped around his wrist and neck in a poor attempt to ground yourself. The faint stench of tobacco reached your nose but it was quickly drowned out by his pleasant scent of rain-soaked earth and camp fire.

Gaze flickering between your eyes and lips, Yunho slowly inched closer, noses millimeters away from brushing. A light smirk crossed his features as you rose impatiently on your toes, quietly yet so loudly telling him to do it already. Right before you took matters into your own hands and nearly yanked him by the collar of his shirt, Yunho tilted his head and brushed his lips softly against yours, and they fit perfectly. The little squeeze he gave your waist sent shivers down your spine and cliche as it sounded, fireworks and confetti poppers exploded in your stomach. Eventually relaxing in each other’s embrace you worked your lips against his, parting them and allowing his tongue entry as you simultaneously stroked his wrist in a slow motion. Your fingers tangled in the hair at the back of his neck. The kiss was great with no tongue being shoved down the back of your throat or mouth vacuuming your whole face. All your senses were overtaken with Yunho, Yunho and Yunho.

It was sweet, gentle and soft – everything you hoped for – and then it was not. The aftertaste of his cigarette and coca cola slush rolled off his tongue and left quite a bitter tang on yours. It wasn’t strong, but it wasn’t pleasant either and you willed yourself not to pull away too soon yet that’s exactly what you did. Yunho, still lost in the daze of the kiss, chased after your mouth wanting to claim your lips again. Panicking, because on one hand you wanted to feel him on you again – the perfect curve of his lips massaging yours and noses brushing against each other – but on the other hand you also didn’t want to taste ash and smoke, and would rather kiss Yunho and not the remainder of his cigarette. 

The soft call of his name brought him back to earth, ears painted that perfect shade of crimson clover and you probably weren’t looking any less flustered. Going from this confident guitarist with the world beneath his feet to an awkward man who still hugged his pillows to sleep, Yunho visibly deflated like a balloon.

“Did I do something wrong? Did–uh, did I make you uncomfortable?” 

The whisper hit you square in the heart and you shook your head. There was no bone in your body that didn’t think kissing Yunho was perfect, in fact it was everything and more and you’d want to do it again but maybe with the taste of something sweeter like chocolate covered strawberries.

“No. Yunho, no, I promise. It was great, I liked it a lot actually–”

“But…? I’m sensing there’s a but coming.”

“But the taste– the cigarette taste isn’t that nice.”

Yunho licked his lips and surely there was an ashy sprinkle besides the faint flavor of strawberry that was you. He had never wanted to smash his head against concrete as much as then or go cliff diving without a parachute. 

Winter surrendered to spring and days turned longer, and so did the time you spent with Yunho. The kiss you shared with the moon as your only witness was one of many, much to your delight, and ever since then it was as if you became inseparable. Late night drives turned into weekly hangouts at each other’s places (mostly at yours), hand holding was exchanged for cuddles on the couch – bodies pressed together and legs intertwined – the empty side of your wardrobe was suddenly full of large hoodies with prints of different bands and sweatpants, and your digital phonebook showed hundreds of calls to a ‘yuyu 🐶💘’ lasting up to hours. Nights together were always an adventure as Yunho watched you fall apart on his tongue and fingers, and then put you back together with those same limbs.

“Have you ever considered getting a tattoo or more piercings?” You asked one night as you laid bare in his bed, skin against skin and his blue blanket the only thing shielding you from the outside world. 

It wasn’t the first time you imagined his body covered in ink or new shiny rings glistening in the moonlight and from his sole lip piercing, you knew you’d need a few days off work to recover if he were to get some more. Heat flooded your cheeks at the idea of Yunho sporting a full sleeve and the previously subdued ache between your legs slowly grew again. Most of Blue Bird had done some body art and were eager to do more. You knew Mingi’s body was prickled all over, from his face down to the tips of his fingers, and the man was always eager to do something more. Hongjoong and Seonghwa had a few tattoos here and there although Hongjoong’s was the crown holder of having the most piercings. Yunho was the one with least the altercations and if it weren’t for a dare back in his last year of high school, he probably wouldn’t have added anything. 

“Yeah, whenever I accompany Mingi to a tattoo parlor and lemme tell you, that bastard really does a good job at persuading people.”

“But?”

“But I know I’ll change my mind in the future or probably regret getting it done and then I think of how it will look when I’m eighty and all wrinkly. Like imagine an eighty year old Mingi with a face tattoo…and I get that not everyone thinks that far or simply doesn’t care but I don’t know…It’s just weird to me. I like my skin bare.”

“I like your skin like this too,” you replied and kissed the spot beneath his collarbone. “I’ve always wanted a tattoo since I can remember.”

Not in a million years did Yunho expect to hear that. Caught so off guard, he leaned back on his forearms to get a better view of you.

“Really?”

“Yep. My parents blame it on my uncle. He was like eighteen, I think, when he got his first tattoo – without grandma’s approval of course – and I was the only one who knew. I could barely speak back then so I guess he didn’t think it would matter if I saw it or not. Well, no one could explain the sharpie-drawn cat on my forearms that they definitely weren’t allowed to wash away or I’d throw a tantrum. Long story short, I accidentally rated him out to my grandma when he was sleeping, pulled up the sleeves of his shirt and everything so yeah.”

You chuckled at the fond memory and Yunho fought the urge to kiss you until he was on the brink of passing out.

“What would you get done then?”

“I don’t know, I’m really indecisive but I’m thinking of a back tattoo, you know those that go along your spine?” 

For being someone opposed to getting tattoos, Yunho nearly took note from Mingi’s 101 guide of persuasion and got down on his knees. A back tattoo – any tattoo really – on you would have him barking like a dog and living up to the name of being a golden retriever and he felt no shame about it.

“Th–at would look good on you,” he coughed.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d like that perv.”

Yunho poked you in the side and you immediately curled up on yourself which only made matters worse as you moved closer to him. 

“Stop! I’m sorry,” you said between giggles and he immediately ceased his advances.

“That’s what I thought, now up. Gotta give you a bath.”

The gentleman he was, took care of you in many ways besides worshiping between your legs. Always attentive and vocal about your needs, he made sure you were comfortable even while you floated between consciousness and dreamland.

“Nooo! I’m tired.”

The grip around him tightened but with legs like jello and your brain only recently coming back from the post orgasm haze, Yunho could have you in the bathtub in seconds. You nuzzled against his chest and blinked slowly while asserting your thoughts. As dizzying as your vanilla perfume was to him, Yunho’s scent of burning wood was completely intoxicating and it nearly lulled you to sleep if it weren’t for his fingers caressing the back of your neck. How he got you to pee was a mystery of its own.

“Okay, a few more minutes but I’m getting you in that shower either way.”

“Thank you, Yuyu!”

He earned a kiss to the apple of his cheek and triumph fluttered through your veins at his red tinted ears. It was funny how he was more flustered over an innocent peck than staring straight at your wet core. Yunho felt the smugness radiate off you in waves and quickly redirected the attention elsewhere.

“Have you always wanted to be a preschool teacher?” 

“No,” you started and softly ghosted your fingers on the spot beneath his peck, a trail of goosebumps trailed after your touch. “It’s silly, but I wanted to be a cat shop cashier.”

“A cat shop cashier?”

Yunho craned his neck and if you weren’t so tired you’d laugh at his frozen expression. Instead you mustered up a hum and drew an invisible cat on his body, much like the one from your childhood days.

“I warned you it sounded silly.”

“I’m not judging you, I’m just…what is that?”

“A girl who sells things with cats on them,” you said like it was as clear as the sky being blue and the grass green.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t have the money for it. A shop doesn’t just fall from the sky, you know? Plus my parents weren’t, I wouldn't say they were against it but they were worried I’d end up on the streets or something so I did the next best thing and studied hard, enrolled in college and now I’m waving bye to kids wearing backpacks with dogs on them.”

Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around you and squished you closer against him, and leaned down to press a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. Hearing about your cat-shop-dream not even having the chance of leaving the four walls of your childhood bedroom really struck a chord in him. If it was someone who understood how it felt to not have anyone in their corner, it would be Yunho. With a five dollar bill, a guitar case and a poor impression of Spongebob he took the first train to Seoul to pursue his dreams and while he wasn’t exactly famous, he wasn’t whatever his parents thought he’d be. 

“But it all played out in the end,” you finally said and closed your eyes.

“How come?”

“Because I found something better.”

One of the many Spiderman movies played on the TV in your living room. It was Yunho’s idea to have a movie marathon over the weekend and you were currently watching the second movie starring Tobey Magiure. Snacks and soft drinks littered the table, but you weren’t craving them as much as Yunho’s touch. Laying in his embrace, back against his clothed chest and one arm thrown over your waist, you wondered if the movies were an excuse to get cozy with you. 

Throwing a quick glance at the digital clock in the corner of the tv screen you realized it was nearing midnight and you could feel the sleep sneaking up on you. It was gradually becoming harder to keep your eyes open and just when you were about to succumb to dreamland an electric like jolt shocked you awake. The hem of your shirt had risen through the night and Yunho’s fingers found comfort on the exposed skin of your tummy. His hand flew from you as if being burned by a hot stove.

“I’m sorry, was that too much?”

You shook your head and smiled at the instinctual worry. There was something so attractive about his attentive side. You were one month into…whatever this labeless thing you were having and not once did he make you feel uncomfortable. He always checked in on you, made sure you were on the same level and asked for permission about the smallest of things but it was appreciated, nonetheless. 

“No, it was just unexpected…but not unwanted.” 

You steered his hand back over your stomach and fought the shiver wanting to glide down your back. Despite their humongous size, his fingertips were soft and gentle, and the warmth of his touch sent goosebumps trailing along your skin. Face burning and heart doing somersaults, you nuzzled against his bicep taking on the task of a pillow under your head. Pushing yourself, you pressed a chaste kiss to the muscle and glued your attention back to the movie, refusing to meet his eyes. In that moment Yunho swore he could feel his heart jump in his throat and he didn’t even need to touch his ears to know they were burning red. 

You had gotten quite intimate with each other. Never being able to finish a movie without locking lips or being in the same room for more than five minutes without one hand straying to the other. Not to say Yunho wasn’t affected by your sudden displays of affection – because he was – yet those small innocent acts did far worse things to Yunho’s well being than anything else.

“Who’s your favorite Spiderman?” You asked to distract him from what the hell you just did.

The lack of answer didn’t go unnoticed and as you turned your head sideways, lips parted and ready to ask again, your breath hitched in your throat at his half lidded eyes drinking you up. They were blown out with lust and desire, a look you’d gotten familiar with.

“Yuyu–” 

“I want you so badly,” he said, voice low and soft that you simply couldn’t deny him. 

You also couldn’t fight the fact that you wanted him equally as much. Saying nothing you pressed your lips against his and he was quick to set the pace, starting gentle and then turning needy and sloppy with tongues rolling against each other. Consumed by the heat of the moment, Yunho grabbed your hips and perched you on his lap while he simultaneously sat up against the sofa. Like two puzzle pieces completing each other you slid your hands to the back of his neck and played with the hair on his nape. The movie was long forgotten and all the sound effects were drowned out by the muffled whines and moans filling the apartment.

“Yunho,” you panted and rolled your hips against his.

In return his hands roamed the sides of your body, squeezing at every curve and dip, and smirked at your beautiful noises. His every kiss and grope of flesh was driving you crazy and you were seconds away from begging for his fingers, mouth, cock. Whatever he wanted to do, you’d let him. 

Breaking apart for air, Yunho didn’t stop showering you with affection and peppered kisses from your jaw down to your neck that you oh-so generously exposed by tilting your head sideways. Sucking, nipping and licking, he gave you no rest and awakened a needy pulse between your legs. Your breathy moans grew louder and shot straight to his groin and he had to physically restrain himself from bucking up against you. Thighs so thin you could feel the hard tent in his sweats that also did barely anything to cover his length. Wanting something else to occupy your hands, you slid them down his shoulders and chest, and with burning cheeks you sneaked them under his shirt exploring the muscles over his stomach. You traced each and every outline with feather-like touches that sent his stomach contracting and a deep groan reaching your ears. Your ego rocketed at the bodily reaction and quickly faltered as licked over the spot right between your jaw and ear, earning himself another breathy moan, 

“Yunho, please.”

“Please, what?” 

You could feel his devilish smirk against your skin. To coax you into speaking, he did it again followed by the graze of his teeth. 

“Need yuh, please.”

“What, darling? What do you need?” 

You whined as he continued the assault on your neck, covering it in beautiful love bites, and all you did in return was grind against his cock trying to find some relief to your aching cunt.

“Want me here?” 

He flicked his thumb over your covered left boob and a sharp sensation shot from your cunt to your breast like lightning. The sudden change of atmosphere left you more courageous than usual. Grabbing the hem of your shirt you tore the material off yourself and left Yunho stunned. Despite not being completely nude, he’d be damned if he didn’t appreciate you like the art you were. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said and traced the edge of your bra cups. 

Not expecting the night to take a drastic turn, you didn’t think to wear anything nice but a set of black underwear. 

“May I?” 

He reached around your body to the clasp holding your bra together. High on love, you nodded with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth. His fingers grazed the skin on your back and left exploding tingles in his wake. With your consent he unclasped the top and cupped your breasts in his hands, giving them light squeezes that had you arching your back in response, pushing more into his touch.

“You’re perfect,” Yunho whispered and hovered his thumbs over the hardened nipples. “I wonder if they taste as sweet as they look.”

He breathed hot air over them making you squirm more in his lap and looking up, he was meet with your fucked out gaze – eyes barely open, lips swollen and shiny from his spit – and he was yet to even touch you properly. Easing you into it, he pressed a chaste kiss to your breastbone before latching around your left nub and sucking hard. Your hands flew up around his hair, pressing his head further into your chest. Yunho then released and blew gently on your puckered nipple. 

“Mo-h, more!” 

“I haven’t even touched you, baby, and you’re already whining? Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Yes! Yes, I can handle it, I’ll be so good, just pleas–”

Wasting no time, Yunho wrapped his lips around the other boob, giving it an equal amount of attention. His tongue drew circles around it, making it shiny just how he liked it and then sucked again. It was messy and nasty but felt so good. Your brain was already short circuiting and hips moved on their own, practically humping his hardened dick that stood proudly against the gray fabric. The thought of his cock – large and thick – had you soaking through your panties and you wondered how he’d make it fit. Would he use his long, nimble fingers or his tongue?

A lewd image of you laying in bed on your stomach with Yunho behind, dick aligned with your wet pussy, popped in your mind. Him groaning in your ear from how hard your pussy clenched around his cock and you moaning from the delicious stretch that came with every thrust, reaching deep into you. That alone could make you come right on the spo–

A sharp ring cut through your sinful thoughts, but Yunho kept sucking on your tits. In your dazed state he even shifted to the other one, saying something about taking care of his girls as he pinched the wet nub between his thumb and index fingers, squeezing and rolling it until you were left breathless.

“Yun-ah! Yunho! The phone,” you whined out.

“Ignore it,” he growled and kissed your neck again, hands coming down to squeeze your ass. 

The feel of his large hands on your backside quickened the pace of your moving hips. You almost obeyed his order as the phone stopped buzzing only for it to pick up again. Finding the light in your hazed mind you put the intimacy on pause. Hands pushing at his shoulders until he complied and leaned against the sofa. 

“It may be important. What if it’s one of the guys?” 

Your words were distant as his eyes were locked on your chest dripping and bruised from his work.

“Yunho!” 

“Wha– I’m listening!”

“Answer the phone, you weirdo.”

Standing up on wobbly legs you nearly toppled over and you would, hadn’t Yunho caught you by your hips. The ‘thanks’ died in your throat at the sight of his stiff cock. It wasn’t the first time he got hard from a make out session and it probably wouldn’t be the last either. You quickly put the shirt back on while he awkwardly grabbed his phone.

“Don’t cover up just yet, doll, I’m not done with you.” He answered the call with a, “This better be important.” 

And it was judging by the way his jaw unclenched and eyes widened.

“Finally! Where the hell have you been?!” You could make out the faint and distressed voice of Yeosang. “We’ve been trying to reach you for a while now, we need a group meeting.”

“Group meeting? For what?”

Panic rose in a sickening surge as you listened to the one sided conversation. 

“That’s the thing. I can’t say over phone so get your ass to Hongjoong’s.”

“Is everything alright?” You whispered from beside him.

“I’ll be there, just give me a few.”

The call ended and Yunho stuffed the phone in his back pocket.

“Yeah, or at least I think so? Yeosang called for a meeting but didn’t say why...”

A mischievous smirk tugged at your lips as you took his hand in yours.

“Well then, pretty boy. I say you get over there and hurry back to me.” 

The wiggle of your brows had you both bursting out in laughter and Yunho closed the distance between you once again.

Of all the things Yunho could expect the meeting to be about, he never imagined it to change the trajectory of his life. In less than twenty four hours Blue Bird would be signing a record deal with one of – if not the – biggest music companies in Seoul. Their teenage dreams of making music and performing in front of thousands would come true and Yunho couldn’t be happier. The one thing he was praying for, despite not feeding into his parents’ religion, came to life and in that moment he cursed himself for not sharing the same joy as his bandmates. Because all Yunho could think about was what that meant for you.

“We have to celebrate,” shouted Mingi and slung one arm over Yunho’s shoulders. 

Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Yeosang jumped in tow, all sporting wide grins and even tears shining in their eyes.

“I’ll call Wooyoungie and see if he wants to come,” replied Yeosang as he left for the kitchen.

“We should see if he’s up for designing us some clothes. It would give us more exposure for sure.” 

Seonghwa clapped his hands together and immediately imagined the crazy clothes he’d have on stage. He’s always wanted to try corsets and heels, and pretty skirts and with Wooyoung’s magic he’d definitely not be disappointed.

“I’m bringing out the champagne!”

Yunho watched Hongjoong run after Yeosang, his platinum hair shining in the dim light, and slumped back against the couch. It was weird. He’s been dreaming of this opportunity ever since he was introduced to KISS back in middle school (secretly of course, God forbid his parents heard what their eldest son was listening to) but he couldn’t shake away the bittersweet feeling festering in his stomach. A rough shove against his side snapped him out of his dazed thoughts. 

“You good?” 

Mingi, always the observant one, noticed the flicker of sadness in Yunho’s eyes. The taller of the two nodded despite feeling his dinner climbing its way back out.

“Yeah, it’s just…crazy.”

“Tell me about it, but hey we’re just getting started. A whole new life’s waiting on us. Girls, money, fame, everything we’ve dreamed of, Yunho.”

For once, Yunho’s dreams of a fast and luxurious life with expensive bikes, clothes and VIP parties lasting until the early hours of the morning changed into something quiet and humble; an apartment big enough for two and a dog lingering between his legs as he laid in bed with you in his arms. His dream of swimming in money burst as a new cloud came to mind. A dream of a girl who brought out the best in him with her kind words and soft touches of affection. His own thoughts were taunting him just like his relatives did back in Gwangju – about the dream he’d never achieve – and unlike then he was starting to believe it. 

That night Yunho didn’t allow himself to sleep. His mind tortured him with flashbacks of all the times the universe sent him signs that you were two stars on completely different sides of the galaxy. Yunho couldn’t light a cigarette without seeing your scrunched up face or drink a cup of coffee and not imagine your downturned lips and tongue sticking out in disgust. At the same time, he avoided anything and everything sweet as it worked as a reminder of the very person he deprived himself of.

After tossing and turning for the most part of the night, you woke up to the sound of heavy rain splattering against the windows of your bedroom. You couldn’t shake away the inkling feeling that it wouldn’t be the best day of your week, and considering last night’s scare you insisted your worry wasn’t unjustified. The time on your phone showed you still had a few hours before your alarm would go off for work. You wondered what Yunho was doing and what the meeting was about. There were no messages or calls from him, which wasn’t that unusual, but you were used to good morning texts and an array of different emojis. 

Willing yourself not to think much of it, you made yourself a cup of coffee and clocked into work earlier than scheduled. You couldn’t stop thinking about Yunho and decided to send him a quick message despite the moral part of your inner-self telling you not to. The following embarrassment was locked in your work cabinet with all your belongings and worrisome thoughts. For the next eight hours you busied yourself with work; playing with the kids, serving them food, changing diapers, putting them to sleep. You moved on autopilot and didn’t, not once, think of a certain tall boy who could play the guitar blindfolded.

The clock struck five PM and you kept your dignity in mind as you refrained from bolting down the hallway. The last group of kids had just been picked up and you made a beeline for the locker room. 

You [06:05 AM] Good morning 🌷how’d the meeting go? Delivered

The message was left unread and the delivered status was exceptionally bright. You couldn’t shake away the thought that something wasn't right, but you didn’t want to overwhelm Yunho as you still didn’t know what the meeting was about. You’d be damned if it turned out to be something bad. The last thing he needed was a girl pestering him about it. Doing what you did best, you put on a smile and went back home, but not before stopping by a bakery for some strawberry pastries with the hopes of sweetening up your gloomy afternoon. 

The red bike you were very accustomed to stood parked outside your apartment building but its owner was nowhere in sight and your phone was still void of notifications. It could only mean one thing. You raced up the flight of stairs and lo and behold there he was; sitting on the stair outside your door with a lighter twirling between his thumb and index finger. He looked nothing like the Yunho you knew. His face was bare and lacked the usual dark makeup smudged on his skin, and he only wore a gray hoodie and sweatpants while his fingers were void of silver bands and whatnots. He still looked handsome as ever though.

“Yuyu!” 

You jumped in his arms and he grabbed onto the railing not to fall backwards. Your body slotted perfectly against his and your breath tickled his neck. Yunho had one arm around your waist and the other moved to cup the back of your neck. He inhaled your vanilla perfume and tried engraving in his mind.

“I thought I recognized your ride. What are you doing here?”

“Just needed to see you,” he replied as you moved to unlock the door. 

His hand itched to reach for yours. To have you tucked under his arm or back glued to his chest, elbows or knees touching, anything really. He just needed the feel of your touch.

“Ah, you had me worried! I mean I’m happy to see you, but you didn’t reply to my text this morning and seeing the bike I really thought something happened.”

A forced laugh made its way past his lips and he was quick to pat your head. 

“You always worry about me, don’t you?” 

His hand slid down to your jaw and thumb caressed your chin, grazing your bottom lip.

“I’m sorry. I forgot my phone at Hongjoong’s and he’s still at work so I couldn’t get it. Was it something important?”

“You’ll drive me into an early grave, Jeong Yunho.”

“Yah, don’t say that!” 

Yunho nearly ascended like a helium balloon at the sound of your laughter. The Heaven’s gate came to view as you blessed him with that bright smile of yours. Teasingly you got closer to him so your breaths mingled in the air.

“Who will be the death of who now?”  

The question was soft and came out in a hushed whisper, and if you weren’t a pinky away from him you’d completely miss it. Yunho gazed into your eyes and you had never felt so seen before. He looked at you as if you had the world in your palms and he was ready to risk it all. A bit flustered under his loving stare, you tried reflecting his attention elsewhere.

“How’d the meeting go?” 

The moment the words left your mouth Yunho visibly sagged and his lips pursed into a tight line. You tried finding an answer in his suddenly softened eyes but all you could see in them was sadness. Yunho cleared his throat and widened the distance between you as if it would lighten the blow of his news.

“So…Blue Bird is signing a record deal with Brother Choi Industries…”

“Oh my God! Yunho, that's great!” 

Yunho caught you in the air. Your arms and legs wrapped around him and your cheek squished against his. The happiness surged out of you like rays of the sun and instead of warming him up, it pierced his body to the core. You planted a quick kiss to his cheek that left a prickling feeling after and then you were down again, feet meeting the floor.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?! We have to celebrate! C’mon, we’ll do whatever, it’s on me.”

Fingers latched around his wrist and the purse with all your belongings thrown over your shoulder, you headed for the door again but Yunho didn’t budge. Like an oak rooted to the ground, he stood in place and it dawned on you that he didn’t match your excitement.

“Can’t we just, I don’t know, stay inside? Watch a movie or something…”

“Yeah– yeah, of course,” you whispered and led him to the living room. “Put on whatever and I’ll bring some snacks.”

You couldn’t help but worry. News like that usually called for drinks or a nice dinner with one's friends or family. The thoughts of what could have happened were endless and did nothing to soothe the growing ball of anxiety in your abdomen. Patient as always you didn’t push further on the matter and just gathered whatever snacks you had in your cupboards (oreos and a half-empty packet of chips). Your eyes traveled the length of Yunho’s body stretched out on the sofa and then shifted to the TV.

“Bluey?”

“I like the gentle-parenting,” Yunho whispered and you nearly turned into a puddle on the spot.

“It’s a good show. I give it five stars and the preschool teacher approval stamp.”

As you laid down everything on the table, Yunho raised one arm in the air, a silent request for you to make yourself at home in his hold. Head on his chest, you could hear the rhythmic beat of his heart and the warmth seeping through his thick clothes. His hands were intertwined on your lower back, occasionally rubbing his thumbs over the fabric which would have any cat purring in seconds. Your left arm was squished against the sofa while the other played with one of the strings on his hoodie. 

The series of colorful dogs wasn’t new to you as almost the entirety of the kids at the preschool had some kind of product with the cartoon characters splayed on, whether it be a backpack, water bottle or bandaids. It was either that or Paw Patrol, and personally speaking you preferred the Australian doggos. 

For a good hour or two Yunho just laid there with his eyes glued to the animated show but mind running laps. He didn’t reach for any of the goods on the table or excused himself for a pee-break he so desperately needed because he knew the moment he moved, you’d look at him with pleading eyes and ask what’s on his mind. And although he’d been camping outside your apartment for three hours, he still couldn't find the right words to tell you what’s been bugging him since Yeosang’s revelation. He wasn’t there to tell you about the stupid record deal or how he forgot his phone (it was in his back pocket). Yunho came to break things up, something he knew was inevitable since the first night he laid eyes on you.

“Yuyu,” you whispered and poked his cheek, trying to get his attention. 

The guitarist was there physically but where he had gone mentally was a mystery and you noticed it early on when he didn’t mention anything about Bandit playing the toy drum set.

“Hmm?” 

He blinked back to reality and turned to face you who had changed position to lay flat on him, chin perched on top of your hand and pouty lips.

“Your heartbeat’s really loud. Is everything okay?”

Nothing about this was okay. 

It wasn’t okay that your bodies fit like puzzle pieces. It wasn’t okay that you were great together despite your contrasting looks. It wasn’t okay that the girl of his dreams was the polar opposite of himself.

“I’m just thinking…a lot.”

“About the record label?”

Fuck the record label, is what Yunho wanted to say. It was the last thing on his mind, right below his parents and every other person who had their doubts about him. The real words lingered on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be spoken out in the open and he nearly swallowed them back down, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie, not when you looked at him with worry written all over your features.

“About…you. About us.”

“What about us?”

Your voice came out higher at the end and he knew the question you were thinking of was something completely different than what he was about to say, and it hurt so much.

“It's just not…I don’t think we’re that good of a match.”

He caught the moment your world came crashing down. How the light of worry turned into confusion.

“What?” 

“We shouldn’t keep doing this.”

By that point you both sat back up on your knees and hands on your thighs, while he moved so his legs were drawn up to his chest.

“I don’t understand. I thought you liked me...” 

“I do, but it’s not– I’m…sorry.”

This was all too much for you and you were torn between lashing out in anger or hearing him out. Your heart pounded against your chest and you could feel it crack from the pressure of his confession. As if that wasn’t enough a stinging sensation burned behind your eyes.

“Why didn’t you say anything from the start then? If you never wanted this to happen, why’d you kiss me in the first place or take me out on dates? We’ve been tiptoeing between friends and something more for the past six months and suddenly we can’t be either?!” 

The desperation dripping from your words was clear as a summer’s sky and while you tried to prove a point, Yunho wasn’t having any of it.

“It felt right in the moment, but the more time we spent together I realized that we’re too different, it just won’t work–"

You were quick to follow up. Tongue sharp and fire behind your words, they were nothing like the sweet scent of strawberries and roses he was used to. Yunho had never seen you so upset.

“This has nothing to do with our differences, Yunho! We are great together and we’ve proven it countless times. There’s something deeper than that, something you’re not telling me and I don’t know why. What have I done to ruin your trust in me?”

A beat of silence passed. The apartment was completely quiet and you wondered if the neighbors were listening in on the argument, and if they did then what a great first impression Yunho was leaving them with.

“I’m afraid I’ll ruin you,” he whispered, lips in a pout and eyes glistening like an ocean’s reflection of a night sky.

As if a pair of invisible hands, the words plunged into your chest and forcefully grabbed at your heart only to tear out the poor beating organ and throw it across the ground. To think Yunho saw himself as a problem – as a stain in your life – that he was depriving him (and you) of something beautiful, it fucking hurt.

“Don’t do that. That’s not fair, Yunho. You’d never ruin me, do you understand? This is the happiest I’ve been in a long time and I need you to know it.”

“It’s not going to work. You’re too good and I’m– you’re, I’m bad for you.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me! It’s not like I’ve never touched a cigar before in my life, or tried strong liquor or, I don’t know, had flings here and there! You’re talking as if you’re a drug lord or something. You’re just a– a– an upcoming rockstar! With an ambition that takes up a lot of your time and who occasionally smokes and drinks to de-stress. Don’t think I’m some saint you’re going to corrupt because I’m far from it, Yunho.”

Silence. 

While Yunho knew everything you said to be true, it didn’t fit the image he created of you and he could only fault himself for it. You noticed his eyes wandered around, jumping from furniture to furniture, all to avoid yours. So with shaky hands you gently – like he was a baby chick – cradled his chin and turned him towards you.

“I want you, so why won’t you let me have you?”

The crack in your voice confirmed his stupid theory of being bad for you. It was better this way, but goddammit did he want to wrap you up in his embrace and kiss the top of your head and whisper soothing things in your ear. To say ‘I’m not going nowhere’ and ‘I’m sorry’ a thousand times over until the damage would glue itself back together. He wanted to be the one giving you strength and not stack rocks upon rocks on your shoulders.

“It’s not just about that. I’m going to be a…rockstar soon. The fans, some of them are going to be nice, but not all will wish the best for us. If something were to come out about us, they’d leave you restless. I’ve seen it happen to others and I don’t want you to suffer that same path.”

And if you could see through his lies, you mentioned nothing of it.

“That’s not your decision to make and you know it! I like you and you obviously like me, nothing else matters besides that, please, listen to me. Yunho, I don’t care about anything else but you.”

He nuzzled against your palm and leaned closer until his forehead rested against yours. He wanted to remind you of your agreement, to call him Yuyu and only that, but it was a privilege he wasn’t granted anymore. You squeezed your eyes shut, not bearing to see his wet cheek, but even that didn’t stop your own tears. You felt the soft pad of his thumb wipe away the streams of salty water flowing down your skin and you didn’t know what was worse. That he was the reason behind them or that it was the first and last time he’d ever wipe tears from your face again.

“You’re gonna have a good life without me, you’re gonna grow and go places. You’re gonna get that cat lady shop and be the best cat shop cashier the world has ever seem, and you’ll meet someone way better than me–”

“But I want you!”

“You’re gonna forget about me and find someone deserving of you. Someone that can shower you with unconditional love.”

“Then be that someone. Get better, do better and stop trying to ruin this thing we have!”

“And I want you to stay just as you are. Okay? Gentle and loving and sweet. This world doesn’t deserve you and neither do I, but you deserve someone, yeah, sweet pea?”

Yunho’s voice cracked and you quickly dragged him into a bone crushing hug. He hid in the crook of your neck, arms going around you in a tight grip as if you’d disappear the second he let go. In the safety of your arms he let down his guard and the loud cries that followed prickled your skin just as much as yours clawed at his heart. You stayed in each other’s hold and drew soothing shapes on each other’s backs as you cried your hearts out.

Your arms were numb and your body refused to produce more tears to cry, but even then you didn’t budge. You knew if you let go Yunho would take it as his cue to leave and you couldn’t bear that just how you couldn’t stop whimpering as he pressed soft kisses to your temple or whispered apologies in your ear. 

“I have to go,” he eventually whispered and your heart – that you were still picking up the pieces of – broke all over again, sending shards of blood and tissue everywhere.

Your hold tightened and he truly felt evil as he broke out of your grip and got a good look at your swollen face.

“I’m so sorry, sweet pea.”

“Pluh-please, don’t do this.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Kiss me, then,” you wailed. “If you can’t stay, just kiss me one last time.”

Never one to deny your wishes he slotted his lips against your and tasted the mix of your salty tears. Your fingers curled painfully in his cheeks and the hold he had on your waist was sure to leave bitter bruises in the morning. Yunho poured every ounce of affection, his heart and soul – his everything – into the kiss. It was something he’d never done before but he needed you to know that while you maybe hadn’t reached the stage of love just yet, his adoration of fondness was never fake. Whatever feeling he had for you that was the closest to love, it was never fake.

Teary eyes stared into each other as you parted, breaths heavy and lungs ready to burst through your chest. He gave you one last peck on the cheek and broke free from your grip, and like the broken record left in his childhood bedroom, he repeated the useless apologetic words until they lost all their meaning. Your muffled cries shot straight to his heart and he could feel it crack with each step taken further away from you

As Yunho passed the threshold of your apartment for the last time, he kept telling himself that it was for the best. Your undeserving love would just be ruined in the palms of his hands and he had to leave before it became something he was too afraid to let go off. He had to leave even if meant snapping free from the vines you barely managed to twine around his limbs. It would be sharp and quick and hurt like a paper cut but with no permanent scars.

The more he lingered around you, the deeper and tighter the roots went and more sweetpeas would grow and wrap around his body, and fill him with a love and warmth that was impossible to flee. And when the seasonal change began and all the birds fled somewhere warmer, he’d have no choice but to forcefully cut the vines curled around him and hurt you beyond repair. That wasn’t something Yunho could ever see himself do and before it turned into a cloying love, he’d save you both the hurt and pain, and just leave. You’d eventually grow your sweetpeas somewhere else.

Because in the end, you were all too sweet for him.

Author's note pt.2: I've read a lot of different interpretations of the song and I wanted to share my (if you haven't kind of already grasped it). While reading the lyrics, I understood that person A doesn't believe they are worthy of person B because of their different life styles and nature. In short, they are complete opposites. While that can be good (opposites attract) person A doesn't see it that way. They know right from the start that they aren't destined to be (the reasons to this are endless) yet they still try to pursue a relationship with person B until something tells them "this isn't right". Now being polar opposites, Person B thinks that person A is the one for them despite their differences. As mentioned, I know there are a lot of different opinions of what the actual meaning of the song is and I can totally get behind those too, but this was my first interpretation and what kick-started this whole oneshot.

Disclaimer For this fic, I didn't want to make it into an experienced x inexperienced trope. Mainly because a lot of people associate innocence with dressing/acting cutesy which I believe isn't valid. People can still like pastel colors, cute trinkets, dress cute and still be experienced (with sex, smoking, drinking, tattoos, piercings, etc). I think it gives a little more depth to the story by not making the MC new to all that, but I'm not trying to spread shame on those who are inexperienced as there's absolutely nothing wrong with it!!!

Also it's my first time ever writing something close to smut and it was so hard! I can't stress it enough 😭 I'll have to practice it way more before even attempting the real deal lmao. While we're at it, it's also my first time writing for Yunho so I hope I brought him justice!

If you've made it this far I just wanna thank you for reading (everything) and I hope you've enjoyed ❤️

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2024 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[lightgriffinsect]

Here's the answer to the second question!

famous five: describe your writing process.

I usually first get the inkling of the idea when I'm busy doing something mundane or unrelated to fandom. (e.g. I first got the idea for Ill-Gotten Gains when I was in my backyard helping my dad with gardening stuff or smth.) Otherwise I usually get the idea late at night when I'm supposed to be sleeping.

This idea usually comes in the form of a few key lines of description or dialogue which inspire the entire fic, and always, without fail, make it into the final draft. These few lines are essential as they are the core of the story and I need to work using them to weave a semi-coherent outline.

I then either write it down immediately, if I have easy access to a device or a paper and pen, or I let it sit and fester in my head. This usually results in a) the idea gets to develop and become a real story outline I can later solidly work off of,

or more likely, b) it shrivels up and nearly dies in there before I finally, frantically note it down. :(

I usually make a really rough outline comprised of almost-exact dialogue as what appears in the final draft, and vague details that I later refine. It's usually written with a lot of slang and abbreviations because I can get away with that because it's an outline lmao. See the one for Fourth Cousins (Thrice Removed) below for reference. vvv

Once I have the full outline written down I start drafting. Unfortunately, due to excessive use of slang and oversimplified dialogue and descriptions in the outline, I often have to spend extra time developing the actual text in the drafting phase.

This is where the original key lines that kickstarted the whole fic-writing process make their appearance, with minimal changes or none at all. They are included at the relevant point in the draft and then I build the rest of the fic around it, usually starting at the beginning with exposition, etc. But sometimes when working on a fic I say "screw it" and just write whatever portion of the fic I feel like doing on that day. It's then finally assembled like a bunch of smaller manufactured parts coming together to build a functioning, stylish and sleek masterpiece. I was thinking of a refrigerator as I wrote that sentence.

After the drafting process comes refining, proofreading, editing, all that fun headache-inducing stuff. After you've written your entire work and then read it over several times you kind of just start skimming over it. So when I edit my fics, I make sure to set them to a different font, color, and/or size so I can catch any errors more easily, since they look different and my eyes haven't adjusted to seeing the words in the new form. I check for spelling, grammar, punctuation, and other errors, such as issues with tenses and certain words I think could be replaced or better phrased. I do this 4-5 times (? can't remember exactly) and then I consider the fic done and ready to upload onto tumblr and AO3.

Bonus: how I publish

Uploading onto AO3 is a long process since I need to do all the HTML stuff and that's no fun. I flip back and forth between the AO3 tab and the Google doc to compare and add the appropriate tags where needed. When it's finally uploaded I then copy paste the AO3 version of the fic onto a tumblr draft post. I do this because sometimes I make changes to the AO3 version right before uploading that I don't bother to add to the Google doc, so the AO3 one is usually the most complete and polished fic that I can republish to tumblr without consistency issues.

Then on the tumblr version I add the link to the AO3 version at the top, then the title, fandom, summary, and word count, and then add a read-more link. I then do a quick skim-through or two to ensure it's all complete and perfect, before adding all the relevant tags (as well as the commentary tags from the AO3 version), and then hitting 'post'. And then the fate of my fic is left up to the Almighty SWT and people's will to reblog.

Please reblog.

matilda and famous five :)

matilda: what books have influenced your writing style?

For fanfic, I was really more inspired by other people's fics than by books XD

There used to be an AO3 user called ShadowPorpoise who wrote amazingly descriptive and insightful fics about the Undertale AU Sanses, mainly Dream, Nightmare, Ink, and Error, as well as the Swap bros, and they had two incredible series that really inspired me to write characters from a similar angle, being able to analyze their complexities and put them into more subtle words. They were great at describing settings and moods and that also is something I tried to replicate in my own writing, especially in my first few fics. Also, they were the one who influenced me to write all my fics in present tense. Unfortunately, at some point they deleted their account, along with all their fics, so they're not available to read anymore. I wish I had downloaded or preserved their fics when I had the chance, because their work is one of the biggest things that contributed to my writing style today.

Another AO3 user, Bofur1, also wrote some of my favorite Undertale fanfics under the pseud Im_The_Doctor, which also heavily influenced my writing methods. They mainly write about classic!Sans and Papyrus, but also tended to include other UT characters and even wrote about some of the other Sanses/Papyruses. They're particularly good at getting inside the heads of the characters, no matter the AU, and always manages to write such accurate portrayals of them and that is something I really try to emulate in my fics too.

They're also very creative! One of their fics takes place from the perspective of Papyrus's scarf! And their fic titles always perfectly fit the tone and plot of their stories. I've been quite inspired by them to name my fanfics in a similar way. ^^ They also write mostly oneshots, which is probably why most of my fanfiction is also oneshots.

(i'm reading one of their fics right now dfdfjsdk)

There were multiple Henry Stickmin fic authors who heavily inspired my writing style too. One made all their works anonymous, so they likely don't wish to be associated with them anymore. But their work was also some of my favorite back in my THSC days. Their style was very descriptive and well written and it's another style I took a lot of inspo from when I started writing fanfic seriously.

VenomQuill, who wrote for THSC, UT, FNaF, and plenty of other fandoms, was also a great writer. They were super nice to me as well and it was a lot of fun bouncing hcs and theories back and forth with them and others. They didn't influence my writing as much as these other writers, but I still look back on my interactions with them fondly and occasionally I even drop in to read and comment on one of their fics.

From a lot of the THSC writers, I picked up a lot about analyzing and looking into character's minds and who they are, and how to work off of that and develop it further in my own fics. It's something I'm very grateful for from my time in that fandom and I still love it, even if Henry Stickmin stuff isn't present on my blog. (tbf I got tumblr way after my THSC phase so maybe that's why)

Sheesh this has gotten long XD and it's only the first question! I'm gonna reblog this with the second answer.

[smolla-than-a-bug]

trese boys + things my guy friends do

ft. crispin, basilio, tapia, dominic, maliksi

navi | trese m.list

content — gn!reader

notes — sweet but stupid LMAO saw someone do this for hq, thought of doing one for trese! i’m making hcs for now so i can ease back into writing longer stuff :>

—crispin

gives u song recs and makes u spotify playlists

You unlock your phone and the first thing you see is a message that says hey have u heard this song? with a link attached below. You say you haven’t.

listen to it rn

have u heard of the artist at least?

Again, you say you haven’t.

WHAT

okay brb gimme like 5 mins

He comes back with another link, but it’s a link to a playlist this time. It’s filled mostly with songs of the artist he was talking about earlier along with other artists that make similar sounding music. You’re familiar with some, but before you’re able to completely scroll through the entire playlist, your eyes catch its title and you don’t know how your eyes had just skimmed over it. ‘y/n boboshit’

You quickly go back to your conversation to cuss him out for that.

HAHAHAHAHAHA 😛

okok whatever lets do a listening party

—basilio

spams u on text/rings ur phone to get ur attention when he watches a horror movie so u’ll keep him company bc he’s “scared”

hey whered u go. Your phone pings—another message. You’re so close to blocking him.

hoy come back

HOY ANO BA

DONT LEAVE ME HOY

You can’t escape him. Your phone sounds off with new notifications, one after the other, until finally, your ringtone goes off, and you have had it. “What?” you hiss out once you pick up, only for the call to be ended just as soon as you did. You type out the words ‘what the fuck’. The response is instant.

i cant talk to u over the phone stupid

im in the cinema remember 💀

stay w me tho im getting scared HAHAHAHA

You roll your eyes. This man deals with creatures of the night for a living, and he’s scared of horror movies? Yeah, okay.

—tapia

once tried to watch a movie w u through discord but couldn’t figure out how to share the screen with audio so u ended up watching the movie separately while on video call

You laugh as you switch to the other tab. On the other end of the line, Tapia’s counting down for both of you. “Okay, okay, play.”

A few minutes pass, and your laptop lags. You mentally curse your internet server before letting Tapia know that your movies probably aren’t in sync anymore.

“Huh? Okay, what timestamp are you on. I’m at 14:57.”

“11:43,” you read aloud.

When he says he’ll rewind his to match yours and starts counting down again for you to hit the play button at the same time, he sighs out, “This is so stupid.”

You both burst out laughing.

“Shut up, I don’t know how to use Discord.”

—dominic

encourages you to rant because he both finds it amusing and wants to know the tea

“…the chicken was fine when I put it in the pan. I turn around for a second and bam! Fire! I don’t even know how the fuck that happened! And, you know…”

You’ve been ranting for hours about how shitty your day has been, and Dominic’s been listening intently over video call. He laughs a lot and he reacts occasionally, saying things like ‘Damn’, ‘Whaaaat’, or ‘For real?’ to egg you on.

You sighed once you finished covering all the events of your day, slumping in your seat. Unbeknownst to you, Dominic made a mental note to send over some comfort food to hopefully lift your spirits.

—maliksi

picks u up at midnight for a spontaneous drive to starbucks in tagaytay

are u awake?, read the new notification on your phone. You drop your textbook and highlighter for a while to reply that, yes, you are awake and that you were just studying. Now seems like a good time for a break though.

Not even a minute passed after you hit send, and you’re already getting a new notification. good coz im outside.

Outside where? Outside as in outside my place?

get dressed. come out. lets go tags

He’s insane for showing up in the dead of the night, not to mention without warning, but you’re equally as insane for actually complying. Putting on sweats and a jacket, you make your way out the door, and there he was, reaching over the passenger’s seat to push the door open for you.

Once you’re settled in, he takes off, disconnecting his phone from the bluetooth speakers of his car as he went. “Connect your phone. You play music.”

© smolla-than-a-bug, 2021. please do not copy or repost my works. reblogs are appreciated!

trese tag list — @lumpiang-toge @binibiningbabaylan @marinac15 @effmigentlywithachainsaw

[burnedbyshoto]

house sitting & concupiscence

— In which Endeavor asks Shouto for a favor, and Shouto decides to take his payment by fucking you on his bed. —

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, 18+ smut, dom!shouto, masturbation, toys (spreader bar, bondage, vibrator, collar, leash, gag, & fuck machine), master kink, spanking, temperature play, marking, pain, choking, torture punishment, overstimulation, voyeurism, slapping, oral (giving), hair pulling (receiving), semi-brat taming, anal (receiving), breeding kink

word count: 18,631

a/n: i know its long, but,,, please read LMAO. this took me a full ass week to write. im exhausted, im buzzing because idk how this went LMAOOOO, let me know what you think! please carefully read the warning, I will not be addressing anything about anal in my askbox (unless youre roasting me, which is understandable because lmao)

message to join tag list :)

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“Why are we going to your dad’s house?”

Tonight was supposed to be your date night with Shouto, and given that for the past two months, the two of you had been busy every day and night adjusting to being working adults, the two of you had been excited to go out. Next week would make two years, but it seemed the two of you would only be able to celebrate it during the dead of night. So, with a kind smile and a gentle kiss, you convinced Shouto that the two of you could celebrate the week prior. After all, it didn’t matter that it wasn’t quite two years; you both loved each other plenty enough to overlook the actual date.

Like for any celebration, you found yourself sitting in front of your vanity mirror as you applied your makeup. Your hair was done up in the most elegant style you could muster on your own, and you wore a simple yet gorgeous little black dress. Your head tilted in the mirror as you looked at your reflection. Your legs were shapely and smooth from the increased physical work you were doing, and the heels you paired with the outfit hung from your fingers.

You thought you looked hot, to say the least. What you didn’t expect was for Shouto to step into your shared room with his nostrils flared and eyes cold. Your eyes widened as you turned toward him, but the anger in his face disappeared immediately as he took you in.

His eyebrow quirked; a natural smile pressed into his face as his hands shoved into the pocket of his slacks.

“Don’t you look beautiful,” Shouto comments as he strolls up next to you. The steps were so casual, it was as if the two of you were strangers flirting in a bar, and not lovers two years into a serious relationship. “Who got you this outfit?”

Biting your lip, you chuckled, your arms wrapping around his neck, and you relaxed as he locked his around your waist. Your fingers rose to brush his short hair, the undercut was new, but it was a look you very much enjoyed on him.

Rising up onto your toes, you smile, seeing the way he leans towards you until your ruby painted lips brush against his earlobe.

“Your brother,” you tease, laughing loudly as he moves away, mock disgust and jealousy on his face.

“My brother? I’ll teach you to accept such pretty things from people who aren’t me,” Shouto warns as his fingers slip under the hem of the dress, eliciting a shout from you. He doesn’t seem to be deterred as his fingers hike the skirt of the dress further up until your cheeks turn red, and your protests are nothing but stutters.

“T-The reservations, Shoucchan,” you manage to get out as his lips press against your jugular vein.

“What about them?” Shouto mumbles against your skin as he backs you towards the bed.

“They’re s-soon,” you gasp as his teeth skim your skin, and his hands massage slowly against your ass. “We can’t miss it.”

Two months of hardly seeing each other also meant two months of not having sex or any sort of physical contact, and your actions exposed your need quickly. Your heels dropped with a loud clang, and you let Shouto do as he pleased.

To your dismay, however, the clatter of your heels on the floor caused Shouto’s ministrations to cease. Your eyes blinked as you focused back on him, your chest hammering and lust scorching your skin as you tried to concentrate on your boyfriend.

“Shouto?”

His eyes were once more consumed with the irritation and annoyance that had plagued him before you two interacting. Groaning loudly, you did not miss the way his eyes rolled before he focused back onto you.

“…we have to cancel the reservation.”

So, there you sit in the car, still dressed up with Shouto to your right driving, his hands clenching so tight around the wheel that his knuckles are white.

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

“Are you going to answer my question, or are you going to leave me in the dark?” You ask again, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb.

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

“You’re annoying,” he says, and you scoff in protest. He smiles broader and brings your hand to his mouth and presses a gentle kiss to it.

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

Shouto sits there for a bit, gathering his emotions before he sighs, annoyed once again. “He asked Fuyumi-nee to take care of his house for tonight.”

Your eyebrows scrunch. You know that Fuyumi has a vital interview tomorrow for her job, and knowing the hero’s life, she would have to stay there late into the night. “Doesn’t she have the—?”

“Yeah, so she said no,” Shouto sighs, his hand in yours tightening. “Natsuo also has a lot of exams, and he and Endeavor aren’t on good terms still, so… that’s why he couldn’t take it. So, Endeavor called me and pulled a ‘you owe me a favor’ card from our second year. Didn’t fucking care that I had plans.”

“Why does he need someone to take care of his house?” You ask, trying to keep Shouto from hyper-fixating onto Endeavors’ ignorance detail. “He lives there alone?”

“He’s paranoid about some low-class villains going to his door when no one is there since his address was exposed,” Shouto rolls his eyes as the two of you pull into the driveway of Endeavors Residence. “Some fucking number one hero he is.”

“And he wanted Fuyumi to watch the house?!” You gasp, your eyes widening. Shouto nods his head as he unbuckles his seatbelt, and he’s out of the door before you could finish asking your question. You sigh and unbuckle your belt, knowing how infuriated Shouto is.

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

“If I’m being forced to spend our anniversary here, I’m going to do it correctly, as if everything was going according to plan.”

Giggling, you let Shouto help you out of the car, and you couldn’t help but bring your exasperated boyfriend in for a gentle kiss. The kiss lasts less than a few seconds, but as you pull away, the irritability on Shouto’s face is gone as he smiles.

“I love you,” he says, closing the car door behind you.

“I love you too.” You smile like a lovestruck idiot as he begins to lead you to the front door. “We should have brought our costumes; surprise a few lowlives with our signatures.”

“Are you suggesting we let them rob Endeavor?” Shouto asks as he unlocks the front door.

“I just might be!” You laugh as you step in and remove your shoes.

It was currently five in the evening, and thus your date night commenced.

After two hours, you found yourself curled up on Shouto’s lap. You busied yourself with shoving popcorn in his mouth as you two watched Avatar the Last Airbender. The two of you had been watching it together since Shouto finally confessed that he had no idea why he was always compared to Prince Zuko.

Months of watching a few episodes every occasional night when you two had time lead you two to the finale now.

“I see the comparison now,” Shouto admitted with a mouthful of popcorn, and you hushed him again.

“Zuko may die!” You cried as on the screen, Zuko faced off with Azula, “He can lose, and you finally getting the comparison to the hottest man in the world is not a good excuse to distract me!”

“We can use fire, a scar, and a horrible father,” Shouto continues talking despite your attempts to quiet him as fire and lightning roared on the screen. “I was never the bad guy, was I?”

“You were a complete prick in the beginning, like Zuko,” you point out as you still focus entirely onto the T.V., “I mean, you did threaten to kill someone when we were fifteen. Talk about edgy! Plus, you didn’t want friends until Deku destroyed half of his body for you!”

“You’re an asshole,” Shouto huffs as he pushes you off of him, and you groan as you watch as he stands up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You call after him as you sit up onto your knees, you faced him as he walked out with his cellphone raised for you to see that he was getting a call from Endeavor.

Your mouth drops, and you nod as Shouto walks outside to talk with his dad. You settle back down onto the couch and grab the remote, pausing the show and sinking into the sofa. Your fingers brush against your dress as you wait for Shouto to come back.

It felt like an eternity before Shouto returned; the front door slamming behind him, causing you to wince. Shouto stormed over, his eyes blazing with fury, and he clenched a case in his hand as he glared in your direction. It would have been unsettling had you not known whom his anger was directed at. He stops a few strides away from you, clearly not in the mood to finish up the Avatar series.

“What happened, baby?” You ask, standing up. A soft scoff escapes his lips as he shakes his head.

“He thought I was here alone,” Shouto explains, his head low. “He makes me come take care of his house, knowing that I had plans tonight, then he expected me to be here alone?!”

Your eyes widen as a chill runs down your spine. Endeavor was not a people person, that was a given, and there was no saying whether or not he liked you being Shouto’s girlfriend, but for him to not like the idea of being here was a bit off-putting.

“Do you need me to leave?” you find yourself asking as you walked over to Shouto with short strides. You knew that their relationship, while it had vastly improved since three years ago, was still rocky. You wanted Shouto to be as comfortable around his dad as much as possible, even if it meant you stepping away when needed. “I can get—”

“No,” Shouto snaps, his nostrils flaring, a furious fire flashing in his eyes, and his lips curling into a wry smile. “You’re not leaving.”

“If Endeavor doesn’t want me—”

“Fuck what Endeavor wants,” Shouto growls as he lets you pull him into a soft embrace, but he’s tense and doesn’t melt into your touch like he usually does. “I want you, y/n, and he ruined our night. He doesn’t have the damn right to tell me what I can or can’t do when I’m happy.”

You nervously licked your lips as you stroked his back gently in hopes of derailing his palpable anger. There was just no use in having Shouto getting worked up about something that Endeavor wasn’t going to be able to change in the long run anyway.

“It’s okay,” you whisper as you pull away, your eyes trying to shine brightly as you press a gentle kiss to his mouth. “I won’t leave!”

There’s a harsh stream of air that escapes his nose, and he’s stiff against you, his lips unmoving, but he returned the kiss nonetheless.

“This is our night,” you whisper against his mouth as your lips press against his jawline and pepper slow kisses down his jaw. He seems to have an internal battle of remaining angry and caving to your touch. “You have a room here, it’s just us two, let’s have some fun! Come on, forget about Endeavor.”

As a hero, there were moments where you could feel impending danger or something on the horizon. Be it a sixth sense, or just fantastic gut feeling, but the moment those words left your mouth, they hit you in the gut. Pulling away, your eyes focus on Shouto, whose eyes are shut tight, and you watch as his jaw muscle flares before his eyes open.

Todoroki Shouto was no longer his younger self. While still prone to acting solely on his emotions, he was in control. The last time you had seen the pure rage in Shouto’s eyes was long before the two of you had been together, and something crawled down your spine as you attempted to speak, to understand what he was thinking about, and to stop whatever he was planning.

But then he let out a dark chuckle.

And you were too slow.

His mouth slams against yours, and your body goes back with the collision, but he doesn’t let you free. His kiss is hot, drowning, intoxicating, and full of burning energy that you didn’t realize he had in him. His free hand presses into your lower back, keeping you pressed against him as his mouth tries to get you to break. Your hands press against his shoulders in an attempt to slow him down, but it doesn’t seem to have the effect you were hoping for.

His hand leaves the bottom of your back to tangle into your hair, your resounding groan of both pain and pleasure resonates through you, and it clouds your judgment. Your hands — against your better sense — wrap around the back of his neck, drawing him in closer. His hot tongue swiped at your bottom lip immediately.

Not wanting to give in to his insistence, you purse your lips against his harsh kiss. He didn’t seem to agree with you. The hand that held the black case smacked against your ass, and you gasped at the stinging pain as the case rattled.

His tongue invades your mouth in an intense affair, and your mind spins at the way his tongue drops in temperature before warming up. It sends a pleasant and dull throb through your body, and you moan into his mouth. Were you really going to let Shouto fuck you in a house that wasn’t yours? The two of you had fucked in places that weren’t your house, but it was never a family home, much less his dad’s house, but his tongue curls to tease the roof of your mouth, and it sends an uncontrollable shudder down your spine.

Your cheeks glow with embarrassment, and your eyes are wide in shock. “Shouto’s really going for it,” you thought. His lips are scorching, but it’s his eyes that make your thighs tremble. His eyes are nearly glowing with lust and desire, there’s still that animosity in his eyes and a sense of arrogance that made you want nothing more than to retaliate.

“I hope you’re ready for what’s happening tonight,” Shouto smirks, and you pant trying to control your racing heart.

“You know I am,” you lie confidently, despite the tremor in your voice and the weakness in your knees.

His hand moves to your cheeks, and you feel a growing heat from his hand as he places yet another ardent kiss onto your slowly bruising lips. Shouto’s lips are magnetic against yours, continuously pulling you in, sucking you in until you were gasping for more. Then he would move to nibble on your senseless lips in your overwhelmed state.

Low and soft pants with intermixed gasps begin to leave your mouth as you try to calm down, this kiss was so unlike his typical embrace, but you fucking loved this dominant persona that he dons. Your arms wrap around his neck, drawing him nearer, eliminating the space between you so that nothing could dare to come between, but your hips have a mind of their own, and you feel yourself grinding your crotch against his.

A low and nearly angry hiss leaves his lips, and your breath hitches as his mouth leaves yours. In a fashion similar to yours earlier that day, his mouth presses multiple kisses against your jawline, but they’re sturdy, intense, and full of teeth. Your mouth drops as you let out a curled moan at the feeling of his teeth sinking into the skin below your jaw.

It wasn’t a typical love bite; this was marking. You could feel his intent to break your skin with the mark, and the heat between your legs flared as he took a step forward, and with that, you made a step back.

You’ve only been to this house a few times, and most of the time, you only come here for Fuyumi’s sake of keeping the family close. Awkward yet lively dinner conversations had led to Shouto showing you his childhood room that hadn’t been touched since he was fifteen. Sure, the two of you were nineteen, but a bedroom that hadn’t been touched in four years was something sinisterly haunting.

Shouto’s bedroom was the closest to the master bedroom — Endeavors room. That you knew because the grandest and most intricately beautiful door in this house belonged to Endeavors’ room.

Imagine the horror that sank in your when your lust hazed vision watched as Shouto’s childhood room passed you and your back hit a door.

“Shouto! This is—”

“I know,” Shouto growled against your burning neck. He had left enough bites on your neck to hurt, but the throbbing pain only added to the throbbing heat of your core. “You deserve to be fucked on a good bed, not my childhood one.”

“But Endeavor!” Pathetically you try to get him to move off you, but Shouto opens the door, and the two of you stumble in. “We can’t—!”

“Don’t worry,” he chuckles as he pulls away from your marked neck, “he won’t know.”

Your eyes widened as he lets you go, and you hesitated in moving towards the enormous bed before you. This was too much, you couldn’t let Shouto fuck you on his dad’s bed! That would be so disrespectful! Blatant and honest disrespect! Even if Shouto was in a “fuck his dad” mood, you couldn’t let this happen.

Turning to face your boyfriend, the release of him on your body, allowing you to think logically, you were ready to stay firm in your decision.

“What are you doing?” Shouto asks as he walks to the bed, placing the black box onto the bed with a quirked eyebrow. “Get on the bed.”

“N-No,” you wheeze out. Wow, go confident you! “We can’t fuck on Endeavors bed! T-That’s going too far! I… I can’t do that!”

Shouto blinked slowly, once, twice, and then returned his attention back to the case as he released the clasps.

“Don’t worry about it,” Shouto says as he lays out a few things from the box, and a nervous shiver goes down your spine as you see what he brought.

A collar, leash, vibrator wand, ball gag, a spreader bar with bondage cuffs, so much lube, and a fucking machine.

Your jaw drops as he lays them out neatly, his eyes turning back towards you, and there’s a silent moment where the two of you simply stare at each other.

“That’s going too far,” you squeak as you pull at the hem of your dress, the nerves hit you as he shifts to look at you directly. “I can’t… if Endeavor found out, he’s going to kill us!”

“Endeavor isn’t going to find out,” Shouto’s upper lip curled into a snarl as his eyes flashed dangerously. “We’ll wash the sheets, whatever the hell makes you convinced he won’t find out. But right now? I fucking need you the way I was planning on having you.”

His words fall almost alluringly in your ears, and goosebumps flash across your skin; butterflies fly in your stomach as you moan at the thought of what his intentions were for tonight. You chewed nervously on your bottom lip as you thought it over, trying to figure out what exactly you needed to do because there was no getting out of this. You were beyond horny now, but it didn’t take much to see the danger in doing this.

But no, you couldn’t do this!

“Shouto, let’s — oh my god!”

Shouto, while you were lost in your thoughts, had begun to strip off his shirt. His toned and scarred torso ridiculously defined in the lighting of the room, and he stared at you dead-on as he ran a hand through his falling locks. Your breathing turns into a frenzy as he walks over to you, his hands slipping into the pockets of his slacks until he’s centimeters before you.

Your eyes struggle not to scour your boyfriend’s body like some hormonal fangirl, you recited the Pro Hero Guidebook in your head as you fought off the urge to just jump him. Were pheromones a thing for humans? If they were, he was definitely putting you under some spell that was making you succumb to his own lusts.

“I know what I want,” he whispers as his lips brush against your sore neck, and a voluptuous moan resounds loudly from you. Your breasts rise and fall quickly as your hands press against his warm skin, and your eyes flutter closed as his lips press heavier against your skin. “I know what I need. I need you more than life itself, and I only want you, y/n.”

Not daring to open your eyes in fear of having this gone too soon, you feel yourself nodding.

“Fuck me right then…”

A chuckle deep in his throat reverberated against you, and then you felt his lips back on you.

Hot, fast, dangerous.

You struggled to keep up as Shouto tossed you up, and your legs automatically went to wrap around his waist.

Hunger, desire, need.

That was the way Shouto kissed you right now, his lips downright eager, yet it wasn’t the right word to use. You could feel his hard-on pressing against your ass as you drew him in closer. Hands pressed against his neck, clawing at the bare skin as you wanted more from him — you craved more from him.

It was when you pressed your chest into him that caused a small yelp of protest to escape your lips. In your impassioned drunkness, Shouto had been holding your ass firmly in his grip. His fingers digging into your soft flesh under the hem of your dress until he seemed to be sick of it.

The sound of ripping fabric echoed in your ears as you pulled away from Shouto’s luring mouth. The dress fell loose around your body as you watched as he pulled the remains of your dress from between the two of you. You slammed your hands against his chest in protest as Shouto took the destroyed material and tossed it onto the floor.

“It was in the way,” Shouto chuckles as he ignores your protests as he brings you back in for another kiss. “I’ll buy you a new one, I’m the one who bought it after all.”

Your eyes twitch as his fingers trace the lingerie that remained secured on your body; the anger you had vanished quickly the moment he brushed his thumb over your clothed nipple. Yes, there were apparent problems with knowing everything about your partner’s body, as in times like this, your anger flew out the window as his thumb and forefinger pinched your nipple.

You reacted with a shrill mewl as your hips automatically ground against his, and your head slammed against his shoulder. You felt his cold fingers press the bra down, and your mind nearly went blank as his calloused fingers made contact with your sensitive nipples.

“S-Shouto,” you stammer as you feel your neck blushing as his teeth nip at your earlobe, tingling pleasure scorching your body as he does it a few more times. Low and sultry moans escape your mouth as the heightening bliss of this interaction was getting to you.

“Fuck,” Shouto chuckled as he began moving towards the bed, and you tremble as the friction between your crotches increase. The pressure of his clothed cock sends your mind spinning against your barely covered core. “You’re so gorgeous, love.”

Panting in agreement, your hips bucked weakly against his as the pleasure of him biting your earlobe, his fingers pinching, pulling, and rolling your nipple, and the way his hips met your grinding hips.

Low and pounding heat grew in your stomach, and you whimpered as his hand groped your breast.

But then it was gone, and your body was tossed against a soft bed.

The coolness and freshness of the sheets once more sent a memory of whose bed this was. And the consequences for your actions.

“Shouto!” You squeaked as Shouto climbed onto the bed, his hands holding the lube as his eyes glanced at you.

Lust, amazement, love, and confusion.

“What is it?”

“This is Endeavors bed,” you find yourself repeating, although you were past the point of caring. It just came back up like word vomit.

“Fuck what he says,” Shouto snaps as he drops the lube. His eyebrows were scrunched together in his annoyance and anger, and you could see the muscles flaring in his jaw. There’s a cold laugh that leaves Shouto’s mouth as he grabs the spreader, and you feel your heart stop. “I don’t like it when you’re saying other trash names when I’m about to fuck you, princess.”

Your eyes widen as Shouto is by your feet with the spreader, his head down, and his hair falling to cover his dark eyes.

“I think you need to prove to me that you deserve to let me fuck you.”

Before you could ask, before you could question his actions, Shouto tore your panties from your hips and held them in his fingers. His eyes widening as he sees the soaked thin fabric between his fingers.

You sat up straight, trying to grab for your panties, embarrassed by how wet you had been even though practically nothing had happened. But Shouto was faster and far stronger. With a heavy hand, he shoved your shoulder back, and you fell back onto the mattress, and as you collected yourself, something tight wrapped around your ankles.

“SHOUTO!”

On your ankles sat the spreader bar, the black steel shining dangerously at you as you stared up at your boyfriend, who placed your panties into his slack pockets.

“You’ll get those back if you behave,” Shouto hums as he sat down. “Now, if you want my cock, you better make yourself cum.”

“I’m not masturbating,” you snap embarrassed as you felt exposed. Your legs were wide open, your slick essence already coating your inner thighs and the smell of your sex filling your nose as you tried in repetitive failure to close your legs.

“Fine,” Shouto says coolly as he stands up from the bed. “Have fun letting Endeavor see you like this. Cunt wet and exposed like a filthy fucking whore.”

You’re stunned into silence as you watch as he walks towards the door, his eyes unamused yet challenging as he places a hand on the knob.

“But you would like that, huh? You’d let other men fuck what’s mine? Is this what you wanted all along?”

Shouto lets out a dry laugh as he dares you to not do anything, but the pure stupidity behind his words makes you angry. It boils in your stomach as you lay down, your eye contact not breaking as you pull down the other bra cup. Then your fingers trail from your collarbone down to your breasts, teasing your pert nipples.

Electrifying pleasure rolls through you as you play with your breasts. Each tug, pull and turn making your knees slam together in an attempt to get friction to your cunt.

“Come on,” Shouto smirks as he rests at the foot of the bed. His arms are crossed against his chest, and he’s drinking you in. “Put your fingers where you want me.”

“I’m not putting my fingers up my ass,” you grin, your bottom lip captured between your teeth as another building pleasure slams through your body.

Shouto doesn’t say anything, his eyes only getting darker as you bring your fleshy mounds to your mouth and take a playful bite.

Eyes were powerful, and Shouto had some of the most intense eyes you’d ever known. So the way he gorged your figure as your hand flattened against your skin while trailing down your navel to where you were desperate for attention set your skin on fire.

Your legs trembled as the nail of your middle finger teased the middle of your lower lips, and you felt like you were choking at the way he zeroed in on your teasing fingers.

“Give me a show.”

Groaning at the way his words clung to you, your fingers pressed against your throbbing clit as your eye contact was broken by your head tossing back. You were so turned on that this gentle pressure felt overwhelming as you cried his name.

Your other hand dropping your breast and pressed against your inner thigh, your other fingers moving from your clit to your cunt.

In went one finger, the initial tightness making you sigh as you pumped your finger with no intent in mind. Then went in another finger and another. Your inner walls clenching around your intruding fingers, making you gasp at the velvety warmth of it all. Eyes fluttering open, you move your wrist, and your fingers move fluidly within you.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” Shouto groans as he watches your movements like a hawk, his eyes burning themselves into your exposed cunt.

But it made you feel so good.

With a single heave, your pumping fingers increased in their speed and intensity. Growing so much, your walls squeezed against your moving fingers. Your fingers pounded into your wet core, the sounds of the entering and exiting appendages, making you whine as your free hand pressed against your clit. Your hips bucked up against your moving fingers in an attempt to further increase this intense desire.

Your fingers continued to dance against your needy clit as you shook.

Hot fire slammed to your toes as they curled in your overwhelming pleasure. Your eyes clenching closed as you rubbed hard and fast circles into your desperate clit. Your back arching off the bed multiple times, almost ending with you falling onto your side due to the imbalance caused by the restraint bar.

Faster and hard, faster, and harder.

The squelching of your soaked pussy and pistoning fingers were heavy in your ear as you shrieked. Your legs were spasming, kicking, and your hips thrusting as your end was nearing fast. Shouto’s name continued to be cried from your mouth as you curled your fingers in you, and your fingers pinched your clit, and then an idea slams through you.

Use Endeavor’s name.

And as your orgasm crashed through you, a pitched scream sounded in the room as it all clashed within you.

His name was used.

Your body trembling as you lay on the bed, your fingers still knuckle deep within you as you pant. Your slick essence coats your hands as you manage to sit up, out of breath, and staring at Shouto in a challenging way as you removed your fingers from within you.

There’s a scoff, a sound almost similar to a snarl, and you watch as Shouto shakes his head.

“Aren’t you being a fucking slut.”

Blinking slowly, you heard his pants hit the ground when the belt clacked against the wooden floors. Then you saw that he was by your legs, his cock erect and pressing onto his stomach, the head already beading. Pre-cum dripped from his tip, and you feel victorious at the way he was so turned on.

But it seemed that the dress wasn’t the only thing being destroyed today.

His left hand held onto the fabric of your bra, and you watched in heated horror as he reduced the lingerie to ash.

“Shouto?! What the fu— mmph?!”

Shouto shoved your cum slick fingers in your mouth, and you mewled at the taste of your sweet essence on your fingers.

“Suck it all off,” he practically hissed as he moved your wrists, emulating a blowjob as you groaned against your fingers. “You don’t deserve to be fucked like a princess, do you?”

Your protests against your fingers were ignored as he pressed you against the bed, and you choked as your fingernail stabbed the back of your throat. But it didn’t matter to Shouto, no, not at all.

“If you want to be saying Endeavor’s — fucking scum’s name in bed, I’ll treat you no better than a fucking whore.”

There was a moment of silence as he watched you gag against your own fingers, his weight keeping you locked onto the mattress. But then it was over, and his hand grabbed the bar between your ankles, and he yanked it up.

Your teeth lock around your fingers in your surprise, but he lets go of your wrist, your eyes lock on his as your knees rest beside your chest, and you blink in confusion as he glares down at you.

“Hold it,” he commands as your hands move to hold the bar. It’s cold against your fingers, and the areas that are coated with your saliva make the bar slippery and wet.

“W-Why?” You hoarsely ask, your throat thick from the continuous stabbing of your finger. Typically when the bar was used, Shouto always held it.

“I told you you were going to be fucked like a whore, right? That makes you easy. I don’t need to work hard for someone who does this daily. But that means you should be good at this, so see that clock? In ten minutes, if you cum more than three times, you’ll get punished.”

Your mouth opens to respond to him, but Shouto presses his hands against the bottom of your thighs and, with accurate precision, thrusts wholly into you.

Your grip on the bar almost weakens entirely as his cock fills you completely, your words of protest become gasping pleas as the tip of his cock presses against your cervix, and you feel dizzy, your fluttering walls adjusting. His cock was thick, and it was lengthy; your inner walls ached against him as you adjusted, but regardless of how tight it felt, you could sense your essence spilling from you as Shouto sighed.

He shifted, and in a matter of seconds, you watched as his hips snapped backward before thrusting back into you.

The stretch of your legs makes you feel as if you weren’t breathing correctly. Each breath was short and raspy as you clung to the metal bar as Shouto repetitively slams his cock into your cunt.

“Shit, such a pretty cunt you have,” he rasps as your walls spam against him with his wild thrusts. He moves his hands further up your legs so that they press against your knees, pushing you into the mattress, increasing the angle of which he drills down into you.

Pathetically, your hips attempt to rise up in meet him, to increase this brutal force he was using as you crave even more. It was too much.

The sounds of his cock slamming into your sopping pussy created loud wet noises that you cried in embarrassment, but Shouto found it as an excuse to speed up. His rugged grunts are music to your ears as his cock hits your walls every time. The stretch he gives you was boggling, and you were progressively less cognitive aware as he drilled in harder. His slams were so hard that the sound of his thighs hitting your ass let out a continuous and loud slap.

His fingers gorge into your skin, and you cry his name like a hopeful prayer as he is fueled by your appraisal.

Your hands are weak against the bar, and it feels as if it’s slipping the moment he releases his right hand from your leg. You cry as the angle of penetration lessens, but his ramming continues at the same pace, and his fingers land on a puffy and sensitive bundle of nerves. The simple action set you enflame as you wailed his name, and Shouto bit your inner calf as his finger cooled dramatically against your clit.

The difference between your body that felt like it was on fire and the bitter ice of his fingers made your body spasm uncontrollably. The bar was being pulled in by your forearms as exploding pleasure slams through every vein in your body. But your thrashing and wailing do not stop Shouto, nor do they lessen the pace and the force he’s settled in as the bed begins to sway with every powerful thrust.

“I needa— holy shit, r-right there!”

“What? Do you need to come already?” Shouto mocks against your calve, and you whimper as he bites it again.

Your eyes can no longer stay open as the only noises leaving your mouth are whines and begs for more. You forcibly clench around him in an attempt to stir a reaction from him, but all he does is curse loudly as he continues his rutting force. The pounding is rhythmic. The feeling of Shouto’s cock entering and leaving you draws your eyes to the back of your head as you whimper his name, his thighs hitting your ass at bruising force, only adding to your pleasure. His finger getting colder by the second as it simmers against your burning clit. Your heart hammering in your ears as you heard Shouto snap at you.

“Cum.”

The orgasm that had been surging within you crashed through you in a fiery white heat as your jaw slacks in a silent scream. Your body convulses against your hold and his, but Shouto doesn’t stop, not even when your toes curl, not even when you sob.

“Shouto!”

He pulled out then, his pants heavy in your ear, and something ripped through you as the weirdest sensation floods through you. Your cunt throbs uncharacteristically harder as you softly sob Shouto’s name.

You had squirted.

It was all over the comforter; there was even some on Shouto’s lower abs that shone in a mixture of sweat and you.

Your head slams back into the mattress as you can feel your heartbeat in your cunt, your chest heaving at the experience you just had. You’ve never squirted before, and your body felt like it was short-circuiting as you remained on your back.

“Look at that,” Shouto mused as he unfastened the restraints on your ankles, and your thighs crashed together, an inevitable soreness throbbing within as you lay speechless. That had winded you. “For someone not wanting to make a scene on his bed, you just wet a whole portion to it. I don’t think you even care if he finds out I fucked you on his bed, y/n. A little whore like you, you probably want the entire neighborhood to know.”

“I don’t,” you gasp as you struggle to find your breath still, and Shouto hums as he turns you over onto your stomach.

You’re not sure if it was a forcible push or something gentle. All you know is that your body burned where he touched you, and your thighs ached as you settled on your stomach.

“How the fuck am I supposed to fuck you like that?” Shouto snaps at you, and your eyes widen as you shift your head to look at Shouto’s whose cock is still erect, and you realize in a dawning horror that you had come twice now, and he had not.

Then there was the challenge, he only had to make you come three more times to do whatever insidious things he had planned. Your fingers fisted in the sheets as you groaned loudly. His body heat radiated onto you, and you rub your thighs together at the thought of Shouto gripping your ass as he drilled into you from behind.

You needed to get him to do that, but to make sure you didn’t come.

“I don’t want to,” you stall, hoping that in moments like these, it would help in your favor.

“Let go of the sheets,” Shouto ignores you as he gives a pointed look at your hands that clutched the sheets.

“Nope.”

The heat he provided was suddenly gone, and your eyes widened as a closet door creaks open. You watch as Shouto stands by a closet, a hand on his hip as he studies the closet before him, and you let out a strangled noise as you can already taste what he’s getting out.

“Shouto, do not!”

“Don’t what?” Shouto asks as he pulls out four brightly colored ties that Endeavor owned. “They’ll get cleaned up and put away, I mean look at the mess you already made, this shouldn’t concern you.”

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment as you look at the stained sheets below you, and you sit on your knees as you cross your arms.

“Using Endeavors clothes as bondage is going too far!”

Shouto looked at you, his eyes annoyed, angry, and uncaring, then he shrugs. He takes a few strides, and he’s back on the bed.

“He should have thought of that before being a dick.”

There was no time to react as Shouto grabbed your wrists in his hand and tugged you towards him. Before you could attempt to pull back, to resist ruining more of Endeavors’ personal belongings, the tie is properly looped around your arms, and you’re locked in place.

“Now on your hands and knees like a good slut,” Shouto directs running a hand through his sweaty locks while rising to his knees. The tie is almost uncomfortable with how tight it is, and you remain stagnant, staring at your boyfriend, who was insistently becoming more of a dom than you had ever seen him as. But with your lack of action, his expression sours, and he grasps your cheeks in his hand. “Are you fucking deaf?

You gasp loudly when Shouto’s hand brings your face to the mattress, your back curved, arms pressed into your breasts.

“I thought whores had better form than this,” Shouto sneers while pressing a heavy hand against the center of your spine. You adjusted immediately under his force, your back arching with your pert ass in the air. “Much better.”

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

“Shouto, please,” your voice pleads again; his hands roam your ass and hips, whispering nasty sweet things to you while the tip of his cock presses against your still wet cunt. “Don’t make a mess of me, not on Endeavors bed.”

There was a moment of silence while his hands disappeared from your skin. Licking your lips, you turned your head to see what exactly his expression was. But you were too late.

He slammed his right hand against your ass cheek, causing you to shriek while your skin throbbed in his wake. The pain made your legs buckle, a hot pressure reigniting in your core, and another loud slap repeated on your opposite cheek.

Fisting in your hair, you yelped loudly when Shouto yanked your head back. The arch in your back was dramatized by this action; your back ached as another heavy slap echoed against your troubled skin. His dense, almost wild breathing hits the shell of your ear, and chills shoot down your spine when he snarls.

“Who the fuck matters to you right now?” He hisses in your ear. “Is it Endeavor fucking you on this bed right now? No—” his hand comes down against your ass with every word, ignoring your growing sobs— “I’m the one fucking you. The only man’s name you should be uttering is mine. Do. You. Understand?”

The next spank that comes across your ass nearly sends you tumbling over at the strength and power behind it. Your arms buckle under you, the weight and struggle to keep yourself upright was a challenge as Shouto abused your ass.

“Answer me, whore.”

There was no stopping Shouto’s heavy hand against your pert ass, and you could not think of anything but how your cunt throbbed for the man behind you. Your sobs of pain had long ago become those of pleasure, and you could feel the raised prints of his hands on your sore cheeks. It delighted you.

“Y-Yes, sir!” You pant, your body trembling in your excitement and need for more.

“You like this, don’t you,” he sneers while he rubs circles against your heated skin. “You’re trembling with excitement as you try telling me you don’t want me to fuck you here. Do you want me to leave you here? With no clothes, no way back home? Count the number of times I spank you, I want to hear you counting and thanking me every time.”

Slap.

“One. T-Thank you, sir.”

Your words were barely above a whisper, just enough for Shouto to hear you thank him as you trembled like a leaf before him. His upper lip pulled back into a sneer as he let go of your hair, throwing your head into the mattress, and his fingers go and pinch your nether lips, and you cried loudly.

“I know you can fucking scream louder than that, don’t make me ask again. From the top.”

The words were like honey to your ear, and you shifted in an attempt to ease the growing lust between your legs.

Slap.

“One! Thank you, s-sir!”

Your mind reeled as Shouto continued his conquest against your ass. You could barely remember the number you were on by the time he was done with you, the added sensation of his alternating heated and chilled hands increasing the desire in you to find you as you were now. Ass bright red and in the air, back arched further than you had ever gone, and saliva and tears seeping onto your bond arms.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he observes as two of his fingers slide against your wet slit, and your ragged moans fill the area at the need of more. He continued petting you, and while feeling finally returned to your abused ass, your hips began to buck against his wandering hands, trying to get them to slip between the folds. “Such a greedy little slut.”

His chuckle is barely heard by you, for as he said that, he pressed the head of his cock into your cunt. A sharp whine slams from your throat as the emptiness of this action makes you crave more. You shift your ass back, the action full of temporary regret as soring pain flashes through your lower body. He did not hold back.

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

“Is this not good enough for you?” Shouto chuckles, but there’s no light humor to his laughter. “Good.”

At that phrase, Shouto slams into you at full force again, causing you to bite down hard against your saliva-coated and bound arms as you feel his cock twitch within you. Your breathing is harsh as you focus on the nightstand and see the clock. It’s felt like an eternity, but only three minutes had passed since the bet was made. If you won, you’d move this fuck feast into his bedroom.

“Seven minutes,” you choke against your skin, not wanting to show how turned on you were.

The instant you were done chiding him, you regretted telling Shouto the amount of time he had left. The bed shifted by your knees, and you could only imagine what was happening as you could feel his cock moving out of you and slamming back into you.

The angle and power behind these thrusts were different than what you were used to from the standard doggy style. With each hypnotizing slam of his hips, shrill moans of pleasures ripped from your throat, and you preened your head to look at Shouto.

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

“That feels so — fuck — do that!”

“Who—” slap— “Are—” slap— “You—” slap— “Addressing?!” Slap!

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

Shouto chuckles at your praise, all while he continues to fuck you roughly. He was in a zone, his concentration like steel as he pounded into you again and again. Your inner walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating cock, and the heated pressure had built up all over again.

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

“Fucking cum with me,” he demands, jerking your head back towards him again, and you sob as your legs tremble against his increasing power.

You feel your eyes cross, screaming out his name as your walls clamp down fiercely against his length. Shouto curses loudly, pulling out of you while your cum drips from your folds. But a hot and sticky substance hits the curve of your ass while Shouto lets out a string of curses, and you moan knowing that he came on you.

“That was two,” Shouto reminds you as you groan into the sheets.

“That was two,” you mock hoarsely, but you’re unable to move, your body locked in the way he had fucked you.

“Look,” Shouto says, ignoring your disrespect, for you can hear the prideful smirk on his tone as he forces you onto your side. “You made another mess.”

“You’re cleaning up Endeavors bed when we’re done,” you whimper, making no attempt to sit up, your body screaming in pain when you lay still.

“You really can’t seem to get his name out of your fucking mouth, can you?” Shouto barks while he moves to sit against the headboard. “What do I have to do to get you to fucking forget him? Choke you until you pass out? Break that pretty little mind and pussy of yours?”

There is no time to argue, Shouto grabs your legs and drags you over to him, your sensitive ass burning against the cum soaked comforter until you were at his side. Your pained breaths still as Shouto glares down at you, his left hand undoing the saliva-coated tie around your wrists, leaving the fabric slightly burnt while he tosses it to the side. Your arms throb as blood rushes back through it.

But before you could relish the feeling of your arms back, Shouto has his chest pressed against your back, and his right hand angling his once again hardening cock upwards.

“Since I mean nothing to you, make yourself cum.”

With that, he dropped your aching pussy onto his dick.

The feeling of his cock wholly sheathed within you, mercilessly slamming against the wall of your cervix and staying pressed tightly there. The delirious sensation made your head crash back against his shoulder, and your legs kicked out in response. Loud and low moans reverberated from your lips while adjusting to him buried within you again.

Your mind reeled while you adjusted, and Shouto angled his knees up, his scorching and robust grip moving your legs outside of his, causing your hips to spread against him.

“I told you to move,” he snaps, his fingers twisting your sensitive nipple harshly, your resulting wail muffled by you burying your face into his neck. “I didn’t pay for you to sit there.”

Puffs of air escaped your mouth quickly, and your feet shakily pressed into the mattress. You needed to move for him. But you were too slow, and a sharp and icy cold slap hit your clit.

Your body impulsively arched forward, your body rising up from his cock before you collapsed back down. But the sensation of his cock hitting your cervix made you shudder.

“Faster.”

So you began to rise and fall against his length, his hot breathing fanning against your sweat-soaked skin made your body shudder against his. His fingers found a place on your hips to hold, and you moaned at his bruising grip.

Your thighs burned with every bounce of your body, your head lolling to the side, stammering Shouto’s name as your walls clenched and squeezed against his hard cock. You wanted more of him. You needed more of him. Choked out screams rung from your throat as your hand gripped onto his knees, your body trying to support the numb ache that was shooting through your body.

“Shouto,” you puff, his fingers digging into your flesh, making you gasp.

“Why don’t you follow fucking instructions,” Shouto gnashes his teeth, and his left-hand moves from your hip to your clit. A jolt of massive arousal shoots through your body, a warm presence pressing into you as he teases your clit, causing you to roll your hips against his. But it grows hot, hotter, and hotter. It’s too hot, and his movements are painful yet disgustingly pleasurable. Pained and animalistic sobs pouring from your mouth while he deliberately abuses your throat. “What are you supposed to call me?!”

“S-Sir!” You weep, slamming your hips back down against his in pathetic attempt to lose his hold against your puffy nerve. “I’m supposed to c-call you, sir!!”

“Then why haven’t you been?!” Before you could attempt to respond, Shouto’s right-hand leaves your hip and slams to your throat, choking the response from you. “I don’t want to hear your answer.”

His hand remains heavy and tight around your throat, his hold barely allowing oxygen to travel through to your lungs. Your vision fuzzed, and you could feel your heartbeat in your head, but your core shook with Shouto’s now reciprocating and rhythmic slams.

Choking, clit stimulation, his cock pounding into your cervix, his fingers hotter than coal, and Shouto chuckled into your skin. His thrusting hips were becoming more precise, angling into you in a way that made you audibly choke when you needed to gasp. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen to your body that was making you delirious, or perhaps it was the fact that he was slamming into you with the strength of rearranging your guts, but your hips began to swivel at an inhumane pace. Your cunt held a vice grip around his cock, yet it did nothing to slow Shouto down, but the growing heated pit in your lower belly was making your legs tremble against his. Still, you tried to keep up with his rough and cruel pace, and Shouto enjoyed knowing that detail.

“Such a fucking tramp, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He sneers, his teeth biting down against the curve of your shoulder. “You enjoy being choked?”

Your head nods, “Y-Yes, sir!”

“Do you need to cum?” There was no reason for Shouto to ask that; the answer was obvious enough. “Good.”

If you thought Shouto was rough, as soon as that word rolled off his tongue, he only got worse.

His hand against your throat tightened, and black dots littered your vision; the coldness of his ice burned against your skin. His teeth sunk far into your skin, enough for you to feel your skin breaking as his tongue moving in cold and heated strokes to calm your now irritated skin. Then there were his nimble fingers running against your clit, and entering your cunt between your spastic walls and his hammering and throbbing cock. But your bouncing held no value anymore, Shouto’s hips snapped upwards fast enough and powerful enough to overcome and overwhelm you. The only thing you could tell was that along with the tip of his cock hitting your bruised walls, the sounds of your sopping wet pussy crashing against his forceful hips rang in your ears in a primal yet excited fashion.

Despite his hold on your neck, nothing was holding back the scream that left your mouth as you orgasmed.

White stars filled your vision as Shouto ripped his cock from you, and that same sensation of peeing bewildered you as he held your body up. You had squirted again, but your ragged and shallow breathing had only increased, and there was something warm and wet painted on your back.

“That was three,” Shouto whispers into your ear, his teeth tugging at your earlobe, and you shuddered. “I should get extra points for making you squirt.”

To that, all you could muster was an embarrassing moan as your dazed eyes focused on yet another wet stain on the bed. Three minutes left, that’s how much you had to endure to win.

Three more minutes.

Unfortunately for you, Shouto was well aware of this, so he wasted no time.

Once again, he shoved you to the side. Your body crumpling onto the mattress, aching and sharp pains flooding your body as you lay there. Your clit throbbed in time with your heartbeat, and your inner thighs were coated entirely with your cum — both new and old. Maybe your body would be incapable of cumming at this point now? You sure hoped so… or not.

“Up,” Shouto commanded but gave you no autonomy since he grabbed your hair by the roots and tugged you onto your knees. You whimper in your throat at the stabbing pain settling in your lower body, you were still recovering from him rearranging your guts. But you caught sight of the cum he had released onto your back pressed all over the covers, and your breathing stopped.

“Shou— ack!!”

A collar locked around your throat, and you wheezed loudly; you hadn’t managed to catch your breath still. Your body swayed forward into his hold as your head spun due to the lack of oxygen, but Shouto seized you his eyes wide and worried as he stared at you.

“Shit, baby, are you okay?”

You nodded your head, oxygen slowly spreading back into your body.

“Sorry,” you hoarse, pushing away, your face burning with embarrassment. “You just surprised me.”

Shouto seemed unconvinced as his hands held onto your cheeks, his fingers stroking your sweat plastered hair out of the way, tracing your bruised lips and against the marks and bites on your exposed skin. The delicate touches are long forgotten on your skin, your lips sighing while he sends warm pulses from his fingers to the aches of your joints.

“You sure?”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved Shouto away, “I’m fine! You just made me spread your cum on Endeavor’s bed!”

Just like that, your loving boyfriend died, and the man who had been fucking you this entire day was back. His hands locked back to where the collar was, and your eyes nearly boggled out of your sockets when he tightened it more until it burned to breathe. But you remained calmed as a black leash appeared from seemingly nowhere and attached to the collar.

“Since you liked being choked so much, I might as well give you what you want without straining me.”

Your eyes widened, your ability to talk back removed.

“Now, ride my cock again,” he grins with the slightest hint sadistic, and as you move to do as instructed, he yanks at the leash. Falling onto your hands, your eyes widen while you stare at Shouto, who merely raises a cocky brow at you. “You have two minutes to make yourself cum.”

“I’m not going to,” you strain, the choking of the collar and the simple manipulation of your body already making that all too familiar heat spread upon your loins.

“You don’t have a choice,” Shouto mocks, his hand moving to grasp the leash centimeters from the collar and yanks your face close to his. But the movement is sharp and rough, the collar strangling you. You scramble on your hands and knees to get closer, stopping when his lips ghost over yours. “And you won’t have one until you’re begging me to fuck you into a puddle, not until you’re nothing more than my cum slut, and until you no longer care about dirtying Endeavors bed.”

The words are fire on your skin, and bubbling lust grows in you again.

There’s nothing to say except give a doe-eyed nod, but Shouto appreciates this submission as his lips take yours. They’re hungry, possessive, and ardent, moving against your mouth with fervent intention. Your mind slips when you straddle him, your soaked core brushing against his tip, and Shouto guides you back down onto his cock.

Your abused pussy had been through a lot, and a loud hiss passes through your teeth as you sunk all the way on him. Your teeth biting onto Shouto’s lip to control the pain-filled pleasure that corroded your body at the moment. It still felt so crazed, the sensation of your heartbeat in your inner walls shifting and hugging Shouto’s still throbbing head,

But the slowness is gone when Shouto pulls away. His hands on the leash as he yanks the cord up and back down.

“Follow my actions, “ Shouto warns, and you weakly nod.

His hand moves the leash back and forward, and the soreness of your cunt bleeds into your actions as you imitate him. Your rolling hips are slow, your hands pressing against his shoulders as you roll your hips against him. There’s a dark mutter from Shouto’s mouth when you lock eyes with him, and his nostrils flare. His hand suddenly grabs onto your waist, making you freeze in your decent back down onto his cock, but he beats you too it, for his cock rams into your dripping cunt. A shriek ripping from your throat as he pounds into you. Your fingers digging into his shoulders to hold onto for support.

“SHOUTO!” You shriek as he ruthlessly slams into you. His hips coming up so fast your body bounces with every thrust. Your moans tumble out in chokes, your face turning red as oxygen fails to fill your lungs. The thrusting is intense, and your hands on his shoulder are more of a lifeline; the bed is quick to move with your movements, the considerable bed groaning under the harsh actions. Its squeaks and tremors are loud in your ear alongside his insistent pounding.

“What’s that, whore?” He growls, his hips hammering into you at mind fogging speed. The leash on the collar being yanked to pull you closer; your bare and sweat-slick skin pressed against his. “What’s my fucking name?!”

“Sir!” you shriek as your pussy throbs around his pounding cock. You’re unable to even twirl your hips in rhythm with him. You were stuck to the lap, only able to feel his cock entering you at toe-curling speeds. “Oh my god, FUCK, please— I —shit!”

Words failed you miserably as Shouto’s hot and sweet tongue drags against your collarbone, his teeth burying into your primed skin as your eyes roll back.

Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. One more minute.

“You take my cock so well,” Shouto grunts as he releases one hand from your waist and runs it down your navel to press against your clit. Your head throws back, your back arching further into his chest as you scream again. Your pussy clenching with no remorse around his cock. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Do you want to come now, slut?”

You can only shake your head, you didn’t want to cum; the pressure continues to build and build.

“I need to hear your words.”

“I don’t need to cum,” you sob out as your body trembles under his thrusting, you’re so close you see stars. “I don’t need to — sir, please, I can — oH SHIT!!!”

Shouto growls as his hand wraps around the leash, wrapping it around your bruised neck as he tightens the chokehold on you. You’re being strangled, and the air feels like its burning as it goes down your tightened passage, but your cunt throbs in excitement when he presses his mouth to your ear, “I don’t give a shit if you don’t need to cum, you’ll do it regardless.” Your mouth dropped open, your eyes crossing, and a loud whine emitted from you when his hand moved to pinch your nipple, and his mouth found a place on your sensitive nipple.

That’s all it takes, and you come hard around his dick, his name ripping through your abused body as he groans. His tongue lashes against your nipple, his teeth tugging at the pebbled skin all while he continues pummeling into you. Chasing after his own orgasm now.

You pant harshly, moving your hips against his own. Your pussy still twitching around his throbbing dick. You hear him expel a wavering sigh, and you can feel him come within you. The heated fluid fills you up, and he lets go of your sore breast; he collapses onto the bed with you landing on his chest.

“You lost,” he whispers after a moment of silence. Your breath picked up in a panic, you were fucked. “On your knees.”

You groan loudly when Shouto sits up, lifting you up with him, and you can feel the intermingled cum dripping out of you, falling onto your thighs. Your eyes flutter when Shouto kneels before you, his face victorious and poised as he undoes the collar against your throat. Although you took a full breath of air with every, inhale, your breathing is finicky as you’re terrified of what’s to come. You’re silent while watching Shouto make his way make to the no longer neat line of sex toys.

He grabs two things: the vibrator, spreader bar, and four of Endeavors’ ties.

Shouto rises to his feet as he walks back towards you, and while you hated doing this on Endeavors — now filthy — bed, your mouth opened.

“Close your mouth, whore,” Shouto chides, his arms above his head tying the colored fabric to the fan blades above the bed.

“What are you—?!”

“You care too much about making a mess for some selfish pig,” Shouto shrugs, he falls into a squat after securing the ties to the fan. There’s a dark and almost amused glint in his eyes when he stares at you. “Now, I’ll give you a reason to worry.”

Before you could protest, pull away, or scramble from the center of the bed, Shouto grabs your right hand and secures the tie around it.

“Shouto!” You panic when he succeeds in capturing both your wrists. Breathing sharply, you looked up at the flimsy blades that curved under the weight of your arms. If you moved to harshly, if you struggled against this punishment or collapsed too early, it would break. Oh, no… snapping your head behind you to where your boyfriend was relocking your ankles into the spreader bar. “Please, baby, I can’t do this!”

Shouto ignores you, and cold sweat runs through you at what’s to come, you wouldn’t be able to resist bringing your elbows down if the vibrator was pressed into your clit. How were you supposed to not wholly destroy Endeavors’ property?!

“S-Sir, think this through!” You begin to word vomit in your desperation while Shouto presses the vibrator against your right thigh, the smooth head holds against your clit, and he uses two more ties to secure it into place. “The bed is already a-a mess, I squirted! Twice! You came two times on the bed! Not to mention my saliva and the cum that’s dripping out of me! I can’t — we can’t break his fan!”

Shouto is unconcerned, his tongue tracing his teeth while mocking concern, “Then I guess you’ll have to work extra hard not to ruin more things in his room. Considering you care about that shit still.”

Your mouth opened to argue again, your body feeling like you needed to fight this because there was no way you were going to be able to last with your arms above your head, legs unable to come together, and a vibrator pulsating into your cunt. But as soon as you made your initial noise, Shouto turned on the vibrator to low.

The low buzz of the vibrator filled the room, and your mouth dropped in a silent scream. Your body was half numb already, having cum multiple times within the past hour was causing your body to convulse on occasion, but now with the vibrations being sent straight to your core, you felt on edge once again.

Trying to control your visible reaction, your hands gripped onto the cloth ties, your arms quivering as you try to keep from pulling down, and your hips thrusting subconsciously to the vibrations.

“S-Sir!” You sob as the slow and steady build in your belly was already growing. Your eyes locked on Shouto, who was a length away, his eyes gleaming in sadistic joy as his hand ran up and down his once again hardening cock. “P-Please, tie me to the bed! Not to Endeavor’s fan.”

The glint disappeared.

“You just won’t let me enjoy my fucking victory, will you?!”

You sucked in a harsh breath when you shifted your hips, the head of the vibrator brushing deliciously against your softly throbbing clit. You thrilled at the feeling of the vibrations on your clit, and your toes curled as your head fell forward. You needed to keep vigilante, you had to continue complaining so that Shouto would cave.

But you had completely forgotten about the ball gag.

“Open up.” Your head shakes no when Shouto holds the ball gag against your lips, there’s a warning noise. A dark growl emitted from his throat, and you feel your heart rate spike when his other hand roughly pinched in your cheeks. Your mouth opens against your will, and you splutter when his fingers shove into your mouth. You try to bite down on his fingers, but Shouto’s fingers turn ice cold making your mouth widen further, so then the gag was placed behind your teeth pressing into your tongue. You feel him lean against you, his lips by your ear as he whispers, “I don’t fucking remember asking.”

His hand lowers, and he amps up the vibration of the vibrator, and your body stiffens under the powerful waves. Being gagged was the worst, first drool always seeped past your lips with this particular gag on, and the uncomfortable pressure on your tongue sent your gag reflex flaring. Staring up at the ceiling, your noises were muffled at the source, staggering pleasure shooting through your veins as the medium vibrations made your long-abused cunt weep.

Your slick coated the head of the vibrator, and soaked you inner thighs, soaking the tie where it held contact with your skin. Your body spasmed as you sobbed in pleasure, your mind reeling and short-circuiting when your head dropped.

Focusing onto Shouto, your legs nearly gave out at the sight of your sweating and smirking boyfriend, his ears tinged with blush, and his fist stroking his huge cock. You wanted to have him slamming into you with the vibrator pressed into your clit, not this.

“Aren’t you having fun,” he pronounces slowly, his eyes — still dark with excitement and lust — dropped to your soaked thighs. “You look fucking delicious right now, princess.”

You clenched your core, the feeling of the vibrator only intensified, and you gagged when you tried to cry out. The feeling of your saliva pooling from your lips mortified you, your body twitching as Shouto only laughs again.

“I think we should go higher,” Shouto groans, his eyes momentarily closing as you assume a particularly gratifying shiver crawls down his spine. The muffled sounds of your disapproval only make his smirk more sinister when he abandons his own length and moves closer to you. Your eyes are wide, body attempting to shift away from him, but there was nowhere to go.

Air passed through your nose are heavy and sharp breaths, your chest hammering, and your puffy nerves throbbing while the vibrator continued powering into you.

“You’re so messy,” he drawls on his knees before you, his fingers touching the saliva coating your chin, and you sob in anticipation of what’s to come. He trails his fingers down your throat, the slickness of your saliva cold against your raw and bruised neck. “Maybe you don’t really care about fucking up scums bed, do you?”

You make a disapproving noise, your will holding on to a thread, and you vigorously shake your head. Shouto hums, his upper lip curling before his hand flattened and smacked your breast right on your nipple.

There was a loud crack when your arms pulled down, and you shrieked, your eyes trying to choose between focusing on Shouto and the fan blade you very much could have just broken. You whimper, your body twisting in an attempt to show submission, but Shouto isn’t done.

With an icy cold hand, he hits your aching and hot breast again and again and again. Your pained and pleasured wails muffled while you choke against the ball, and saliva pours from your mouth, your body trembling with excitement.

“Shut up,” he hisses, bringing his other hand to your face and striking you.

Your head slams to the side, the throbbing of your cunt intensifies with the burning of his handprint. Why did you like being slapped?! Saliva dribbles from your lips when you straighten back up. A now unignorable ache fills your arms from being in this tiresome position for a while now.

Everything felt like it was burning, sensations, and wantonness flooding your senses galore.  

“I forget you like this,” Shouto groans as his hands grope your breast. Pulling, kneading, gripping and pinching the soft and moldable flesh in his hands, Shouto grins at your whimpers and the soft groans of the fan above the two of you. “Break the fan, I dare you.”

Your eyes slam shut at those words, and they remained closed as his hot and cold hands trail down your torso, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your lips twitch, the involuntary action to bite down on your lip prohibited by the gag. He must have seen considering the teasing pinch to your ass.

It was then that you froze. He was flushed against you, and the feeling of his cock pressing into the bottom of your sternum. Shouto’s right hand snaked behind you, those fingers playing with your dripping sex, and his left hand skimmed down your right inner thigh, resting onto the switch that changed the vibrational power.

“Don’t worry, princess,” he speaks in a low tone, an arrogant tone to his voice, “I’ll make you cum again.”

There was no time to contemplate his actions, for the vibrator was turned onto the highest setting and pressed into your clit, and his fingers sunk into your sopping wet cunt.

Even with the ball gag, the shriek of being overstimulated was as loud. It was as if you didn’t have the gag on at all. Your arms lurched forward against your will, the fan creaking loudly as you fell onto Shouto. You trembled more than a leaf in a storm, his fingers pumping deliciously and savagely into you, leaving behind the squelching noise of your wet core. The buzzing of the vibrator clear and steady and his cock twitched between the two of your bodies.

Sobbing and drooling moans escaped the gag, and Shouto relished in his ability to manipulate your body like this. His teeth leaving nipping kisses against the broken skin he left minutes before.

But the feeling of his teeth against your aggravated skin, the sensation of the powerful vibrations against your clit, and how he was still so responsive to you was nothing against his pistoning fingers dragged against that particular spot in your walls. His fingers scraped and slammed against your g-spot, and you felt your vision give way as a powerful force crashed through you.

You had squirted again, only that it seemed to last forever this time. Your lower body throbbing in its wake.

Your head collapsed against his shoulder, and when your vision came back, it was hazy and swam in your eyes. Whether Shouto had noticed or not, he still was slamming his fingers within your cunt with such intensity that — alongside the still buzzing vibrator — pressure built again within you. Heat seeped through you, and tears fell from your eyes when you came again.

Everything felt lethargic when Shouto removed his knuckle deep fingers from your sopping cunt, his tongue lapping away any of your essence remaining on his fingers. With a long pause, he finally turned off the vibrator.

Your breathing was shallow, your head spinning while he removed the bondage from your wrists and ankles. Collapsing onto your face, you felt your slick running thick on your thighs, mixing with the sweat that soaked your skin too.

Good god, were you exhausted.

“You broke the fan,” Shouto murmured.

Shrieking against the gag, adrenaline shot through your veins as you looked up. The fan blade had visible cracks in it, and your jaw dropped further.

Oh, fuck!

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

You whimper in agreement, your leg shifting so that you could feel the wet puddle you had made this time around. However, there was no time to relax.

Shouto grabbed you by your armpits and dragged you to the edge of the bed. Choking, you stared at him startled. There was no use in asking what was happening; Shouto bent your knees and wrapped two ties around each leg. One holding your ankle and upper thigh together, and the other one near your knee.

“Good,” Shouto approved, walking back to the side of the bed where the toys lay. Though soreness struck your body, you rose to your elbows and watched Shouto grab the fuck machine before returning to the bedside. “Because you squirted.” He says with a coy smile, lining the dildo to your exposed pussy and thrusting it in.

Your body slammed back down against the bed at the slickness of the dildo. You were so used to Shouto’s cock that the dildo was foreign as it buried within you.

“Now,” he sighs as he turns on the machine. Immediately the fuck machine blows into your tight and slippery cunt, your eyes rolling backward at the mere sensation of the speed it was at, and a loud mewl leaves your throat. His fingers snuck behind your head, unfastening the gag, and is removed with a saliva string, and a sob croaked through your voice as your mouth was finally free. “Suck my dick.”

With your head past the edge of the mattress, and the height lining you near perfectly to Shouto’s cock, he slides his cock into your sore throat. But ever so eager, Shouto wastes no time starting his conquest.

You try to keep up with the momentum of the toy and his viciously thrusting hips, your hips snapping against the toy despite its insane speed. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, and you choke against his cock. Shouto chuckles, his hands kneading your breasts, his moans tight and low, it had been a while since the last time he came.

“Look at you, so desperate,” Shouto chuckles, his fingers tweaking your hard nipples. “So fucking needy.”

The words ignite a fire within you, and your legs tremble in unspoken glee. You wanted him to fuck you until you were nothing less than a mess. You needed him to give you his cock instead of this stupid fucking machine — wait…

Your eyes widened when you realized the extent to your thoughts.

Fuck Endeavor, you thought, a shiver rolling down your spine. Your boyfriend was giving you the best dick down of your life, and you were too preoccupied with foolish worry! Shouto promised he was going to be cleaned up. You wanted Shouto, you needed him. Maybe you were whipped.

Your arms shot out, gripping the back of Shouto’s thighs as you willed him closer. Your jaw widening; you let hot breaths of air expelled from your mouth. You could feel Shouto peering down on you, but rolling your hips against the machine that was making your stomach bulge with every slam of its rod, your tongue lashed against his swollen head. Shouto’s thighs clench when your mouth sucks against the head of his cock, your tongue pressing flat against the tip.

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

Making a pleasant sound, you hollowed your cheeks out and tasted the saltiness of his pre-cum. Delighting at the harsh curse, you guided him further in.

One of his hands is soon braced on the fuck machine between your legs, but the other is tangled in your hair, pulling it and twisting it as he wishes. He’s pulling hard enough to hurt, enough so that you can choke against him, the angle and the position on your back already increasing the likeliness of that happening.

Shouto’s grip on your hair tightens, and he realizes that you’re keeping up impeccably. His dance between aggression and concupiscence is too much for you to keep up with. You don’t have time to tease his length with your tongue; he steers his cock further down your throat. You don’t bother to hide how satisfied you are by his action as you relax your throat and hollow your cheeks against the length of his snapping cock.

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

He was doing this for you, despite everything that could happen to him after this night was done. Shouto loved you enough to tarnish his dad’s room with you. The thought makes you moan, and you wiggling trying to take him deep enough now that he must be able to feel the vibrations from your throat because that makes him hiss out another curse. He’s shaking with the effort of slamming his cock down your throat and holding the machine.

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

He’s underestimating you, however; you could take him in all power and length he could muster. You know that as you begin bobbing your head despite the backwardness of your position. Digging your fingernails into his ass, you silently letting him know that you’re okay, and he understands.

Shouto grunts, bending his knees as he begins to face fuck you with no remorse. It’s savage, uncontrolled, and brutal. Your choking noises music to both your ears; he doesn’t let up, only snapping his hips faster, harder, rougher. Your eyes begin to roll backward at the force, his balls slapping you in the face with every slam of energy.

But you like — you lust — the sensation of the raw and primitive fucking he was giving you, and you felt your hips rising off the bed when your walls begin to clamp against the insanely moving dildo. Yet, when you shifted higher, his hands slammed down against your hips, keeping you down, and you cry around his cock.

“Take my fucking cock like the slut you are,” he snarls, taking giant thrusts until his cock is completely buried in your throat, your nose pressed into his balls. Your tongue still revolves around the veins in his cock while you grip his ass. You choke against him, the noise music to his ears, while your legs spasm as your orgasm is hitting you.

“Y/n,” he manages to get out through gritted teeth. “Fuck, y/n. You—” He cuts himself off with another groan as the tip of his cock hits so far down your throat you feel your neck bulge.

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

It burns, and to your horror, you find yourself unable to take the sheer force of his load and the fact that he just seemed to keep unloading within you. Uncontrollable panicked coughing and choking rattle your throat while Shouto is still balls deep in you. The second he removes his cock from your throat, you shoot up, your core throbbing, and your airway burning as cum drips out from your nose.

You continue hacking, the bitter taste of cum scorching your throat, and you continued to rub cum from your nose. It burned and hurt to breathe. Turning your head towards Shouto, who turned off the fucking machine, his eyes were locked on you already, a grin on his face while he ran a hand through his hair.

“That was hot,” Shouto rustles, running the flat of his thumb against your upper lip, smearing his cum against your skin.

“That fucking hurt!” You snap, throwing his hand off your face, a fire exploding under your skin because you were more embarrassed than anything. You enjoyed the feeling of his cum coming out of your nose, but you weren’t about to admit it!

“I don’t care,” Shouto perversely informs you, his hands taking you cheeks and twisting you towards him before his lips press against yours.

His lips are libidinous against yours, his mouth opening as he coaxed you to join him in this affair. His kiss was bruising, his teeth knocking against yours when hot and breathless puffs of air exchanged between your mouths. The heated pressure does nothing to ease the burning in your throat, only intensifying the pain while you dig your fingers into his back, leaving crescent marks and bloodied tears behind. The pain does not deter Shouto, not even a little bit. There’s an approval growl emitting from his throat and his tongue soon pressed against yours, and you resisted the sharp moan threatening to leave while his muscle danced with yours.

“Stop holding it in,” he grunts, “make everyone know that you’re being fucked.”

The next noise to escape your mouth is a loud mewl when Shouto sucks against your own tongue, his eyes ablaze while he stares down at you, victory and lust in his eyes.

“Where should I fuck you next?” He asks, his body pressing you down into the mattress, ignoring your pained hisses for your legs were still bound. His fingers dig into your breasts, pinching at the edges of your areola instead of your nipple. Your fingers dug deeper into his skin when you sob at the teasing. “How does that filthy little cunt of yours want to be ruined next?”

“In his chair!” you cry in gluttony, your body thrashing and reaming against his touch. “Fuck me in his chair, sir!”

“Look at that, maybe the slut can learn,” Shouto grins into your skin, the tracing movements salacious, and he stands. You’re weightless when Shouto scoops you from the bed, his hands supporting your tender ass. Mindlessly, your mouth nibbles against his throat, leaving purple hickies in your wake while he collects more items.

The taste of his salty sweat invades your senses, your tongue lapping, and circling against his skin while Shouto gave no attention towards your actions. He merely dumped you onto the cool leather of Endeavors desk chair, and you arched in pain.

“Now, now,” he ruthlessly grabbed the ties on your legs. He slides them off with such amoral strength your skin throbs in his wake. Your legs, finally free, slam to the ground, and you let out a fervid noise as you stare up at your boyfriend, whose stomach is taut and sheened with sweat. “I thought you liked pain.”

“You haven’t been giving me any,” you sneer, your tongue dragging against your bottom lip.

Rage fills his eyes, and he chuckles depravedly, “Okay, brat.”

Grabbing your hips, he drags you on the chair so that your ass barely remains on the cold leather. Shoving you down by your chest, the wind is knocked out of you, and you heave when he grabs onto your ankles. With a familiar tightness and the strain of having your knees under your shoulders, the spreader bar is placed behind the chairs back, keeping you trapped to the chair.

You’re folded in half, and his hand pressed onto your stomach before he began to tie your arms and thigh down. Two ties to secure your wrist into place, two ties to secure your thighs into place. The position — being placed into an ‘L’ shape — prohibited you from breathing correctly as your inflexibility flashed through your muscles.

“Oh my god,” you breathe while Shouto presses the back of the chair into the desk for additional support. Your wrists throbbed with the loss of blood circulation, and Shouto stood before you, his hand fisting himself.

“Hard to breathe?” He mocks, his cock now fully erect again.

“Make me stop breathing, pussy,” you challenge unwavering.

“God, I was hoping you’d say that,” he smirked, grabbing the top of the chair, and placing his feet by the side of the bed, he rammed himself into your cunt.

There was nothing for you to do except pathetically howl when he slammed into your cervix, your body tied so tight to the chair any other action was stopped.

“You’re so fucking tight like this,” Shouto hisses, but you could hardly tell the difference with the way he pummels his cock deep within you. Perfectly hitting the back of your wall every time.

His girth was stretching you out far more than you could seem to remember, his thrusts were urgent as they were voracious, slamming deep into you with every second, scrambling your mind with every shift. But, he didn’t gag you, and you weren’t one to give in.

“It’s because you n-never fuck me r-rIGHT!”

His left fingers slammed into your mouth, his fingers touching the back of your throat as you choked against him in your surprise. Tears watered in your eyes, and his fingers dug into your spongy muscle, making you gag even more laborious.

It already hurt to breathe, with the sensation of his cum still falling from your nose, the angle of which you were tied up, and his finger in your throat, you began to panic. Your eyes close, your throat relaxing immediately to let things be okay. But as soon as you regain your breath, you feel your core throb in how much you liked that. Tears flow down your cheeks, your eyes locked on Shouto, who’s scorching you with his sight.

“I thought you were going to tap out,” he taunts, and your tongue pushes up against his fingers, your throat humming lowly to control the insistent gag at the back of your throat. “You’re crying, and yet you’re still so defiant.”

You tilt your head up, alleviating the pressure of his fingers in your throat, and still looking like a brat.

But his cock brushes against your g-spot and your eyes nearly bug out in ecstasy for his right-hand wraps around your neck. His cock still slams into you with speed and power, the oxygen in your body being denied with his tight grip around your neck, his fingers beginning to thrust within your mouth emulating a cock, and the chair starts to squeak with every movement.

Your ass pathetically rises off the chair, a desperate attempt to move in time with his drilling cock. Both of you delirious under your overstimulation and refusal to stop until there was evidence for years that the two of you fucked in Endeavors’ room. His grip around your neck soon became bruising, where his fingertips were burned you, but you cared not. His cock was stretching you out in shameless thrill, the angle only increasing the pleasure buzzing through you. Your eyes cross over in your elation, and you splutter when his fingers leave your throat, moving to press cold and wet figure-eights onto your clit.

“Fucking take my cock,” he growls.

Your head nods, the heated pressure in your belly scorching. Your walls clamp down against his hammering cock, but it doesn’t slow him down, only encouraging him to increase his speed and strength until the chair creaked against your weight. The sopping noises of your meeting sex filled your ears, and you moaned loudly, your teeth biting down onto your lip.

It takes his cock brushing against your g-spot for your legs to slam forward, your arms nearly succeeding in destroying endeavors ties as you try sitting up as your orgasm slams through you.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” You scream hoarsely. Your scream only increases in great thrill when you feel the chair snap under the force of his fuck. But Shouto ignores it, his hips continuing to drill into you, his hand clamping tighter against your neck, cutting off your voice. Shouto isn’t done yet, after all.

His hands move to grip the exposed back of your thighs, his grip bruising your supple skin. He slams into you faster, his cock continuing unaffected by your convulsing walls. There are no other noises except your wet cunt meeting his cock, your shrieks of approval, and Shouto’s heavy breathing as he continues to drive into you. His body is giving you unreplicable sensations, and your body only making Shouto stammer and curse loudly.

His lips find yours, and there is nothing to say, the kiss is messy, more teeth than anything. Saliva passed between the two of you without care, as he chases his orgasm. His brutal pace continues, your name growled from your throat, until one last thrust and one final clamp from your cunt sends him over.

He pulls out as soon as he cums, his seed slipping down from your slit, tickling your tight ass and dripping onto the chair and the floor.

Your eyes are barely opened; you try to peer at Shouto, who is pressing his right hand to his forehead.

“You cheat,” you rasp, knowing that he had successfully cooled his body down.

He smiles at you wickedly, choosing to ignore you before walking back.

“Look at that,” Shouto whispers, bending down so that his face is level with your cunt and ass. “Can’t have anything not falling onto Endeavors things getting out of you…”

His finger pushes his cum back into your sore cunt, and you sharply breath when he pats your cunt.

“You want me to have your babies,” you tease, and he remains silent, dragging his fingers down the center of your pussy. His breathing teases your sensitive flesh, and you feel yourself clench when he pulls his fingers lower than where he usually goes. Soon, his fingers trace around your puckered asshole.

“S-Sir,” you pant, your chest rising as far up as you could in this position, and your eyes widened when he looked up at you.

“Have you ever wanted to try anal?”

Your mouth drops when the pad of his finger teases your other entrance, and your thighs shook while you remained silent.

His opposite hand struck your ass sharply, your body thrashing as it stung against your unprepared skin.

“Answer me.”

“Y-Yes!”

“Yes, what?!”

“I want your cock in my ass!”

Your boyfriend’s quirk did not involve speed; in fact, without his quirk, he was not that fast. Sure he was athletic and adequately trained, but in comparison to those on the Hero field, if you took away quirk usage, he was barely above average. But there were times that you believed he was incredibly fast, and this was one of those moments.

You found your face, chest, and knees buried back into the mattress, your back arched so much you swore you would need a spine replacement after this, and the ties and spreader bar were gone.

His fingers slide between your folds, lathering in your essence. A low groan left your lips at the feeling, and you quivered when Shouto’s hands spread your ass cheeks.

“B-Be gentle,” you whimper when he presses the pad of his forefinger against your pert hole. Your ass tightened instinctively, and Shouto huffed but pressed his finger in. A weird full pain shot through you when the tip of his finger entered your rectum, your ass squeezing against his finger, trying to deny him entrance.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, his other hand massaging your ass cheek, trying to calm your instincts to let him in.

Your fingers dig into the comforter, the still wet fabric from your multiple orgasms was cold under your heated fingers. But something cold splashed against your ass, and you shook, demanding to know what it was.

“Lube,” he answers, a smirk evident in his tone as his fingers leave your asshole. A soft groan exhales from your breath at him exiting your ass, and soon enough, his finger returns to your puckered tight hole. The feeling of his fingers pushing in you to his first knuckles sends your ass flying backward toward him, a desperate and idiotic way of getting him further in.

It was a weird feeling, almost reminiscent to the first time you had sex, only completely different. It made your head spin in a frenzied way and felt backward but in a way where you needed more.

“You like this,” he laughs, his lips pressing against your spine. Your head nods, you’re unable to speak as his fingers push into you and pull back out. It’s a slow and chilling movement that fills your asshole and makes you dizzy.

“Shit,” you breathe, your body rattling, your ass rolling against his fingers.

“Are you ready for my cock, whore?” He asks, and you whine in response. His hand grips your ass, and his finger curls within you. You loudly call out his name, feeling your body turning weak as you lay there, a slave to his manipulation. His manipulation of your ass sends warm liquid falling down your thighs, shining against your skin as his hand smacks your inner thigh, and he relishes in your high pitched squeal. “You finally cave to anal when I’m fucking you here. Is this what you wanted all along?”

Your eyes clamp shut as his fingers exit your ass, and you only manage a panting groan in response. There’s a soft ripping noise before a package hits your face.

Your eyes open to see a condom package sitting by your face, its empty, and you shift your head to stare at Shouto who’s unraveling the condom on his cock.

“You haven’t used those in a while,” you remark snidely, your eyes glowing with amusement as he locks onto you, his eyes rolling.

“I remember a certain someone begging for me to put it in her raw,” he smoothly states, lube in his hands now, and he applies a lot on the smooth condom. “Besides, you want my cock up your ass, you don’t get to play that card right now.”

“Yeah, well — oHMY GOD!”

Shouto, without warning, presses the head of his cock within your asshole. It stretches you out disgustingly, sharp pain throbbing in your ass and cunt as he settles within you. Despite his cock halfway buried within your ass, it’s your pussy that weeps. Your slick runs rampant down your inner thigh, falling onto the bed top. Shouto’s fingers dig into your waist, the both of you breathing heavy at this new feeling.

Slowly, his fingers move to your breast and your nipples, and with the smallest nod from you, he begins.

In and out, he moves, his hips moving faster than a manageable speed, and your eyes welled with tears at the constipated feeling in your asshole. His fingers tweak and pull at your clit and nipple, savagely teasing them, uncaring that your cries left drooling puddles on the bed. His thrusting movements became quicker, harder, and more solid until a familiar sensation of his balls slapping your skin burned your mind.

“More,” you beg against the sheets, drool coating your cheek, your body nothing more than his fuck toy. “Fuck my asshole harder.”

Shouto merely growls, the pinch on your clit, making your hips buck against his cock, and he began to barbarically slam into you. It was as if it was your pussy and not your ass he was drilling into.

Your body shifts with his every movement, your slick pouring from your cunt, and he let go of your nipple. In your crazed state, you sob at the loss of contact, but his hand strikes against your soaked cunt with a loud sound. The force alone nearly sends your eyes flying open, your vision blurring when his finger dive into your sex.

His fingers work at double the speed of which his hips slam into you. His fingers pushing the limits of your velvet walls; he curls his fingers against your walls, dragging them deliciously against your clenching heat. Then there was his cock, and at times the thin walls that separated his fingers and his cock brushed together, sending you into a new frenzy while you sobbed his name.

Begging for more, begging to come.

“You already need to come?!” He snaps, his hips not at all weak, and you moaned loudly, knowing that he was nowhere close. “Then come you, filthy bitch, I just started, and you need to come!”

“I-It feels so fucking good,” you garble, your jaw unable to move for its slack against the mattress, electrifying pleasure singing your nerves, and with a loud smack to your pussy, you come hard against his fingers, splashing against the bed top.

There’s no time wasted; Shouto pulls himself from your ass and shoves you onto your back again. There’s no fightback, no attitude, from you. Without being forced to, your legs are brought to your chest while Shouto discards the condom onto the bed.

“Aren’t you so fucking enthusiastic, getting all ready for me without asking,” Shouto grins, his hands grabbing your legs right below your ankle. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you right now?”

“Y-You’re going to fill me up with your cum,” you stammer for he pushes your legs slowly towards you, the stretch in your muscles overwhelming for your sore body. “You’re going to give me your babies.”

“What else?” He taunts, the top of his cock rubbing against your clit.

“B-Breed me like the bitch I am, sir!” Your cry, wanting nothing more than his cock to bury all nine inches in you.

“Come for me one more time, and I’ll make sure to fill you until you’re dripping with my semen for an entire week,” Shouto promises, and his hips slam within you.

Your knees are buried within the mattress by your head, your feet curling and pressing against each other.  Shouto lays on top of you, the penetration deep, and his hands gripping yours. The weight of having him on you is exhilarating, and for the first time this night, his lips press hungrily against yours while ball deep within you.

His cock slams against the wall of your cervix repetitively while his lips overwhelm you. Each slam into you is massive and powerful. Powerful enough to have you sobbing into his mouth while he kisses you, his hands clutching your smaller ones in his.

Again and again, he slams into you. His thrusts knocking the wind out of you until you release his hands and find yourself digging your fingers into his back, crying out his name desperately while his teeth find a home on your neck, sinking into flesh he had long ago broke. The powerful pounding of his cock makes you keen, your hips jerking up to meet his, but you’re useless against his downward thrusts.

“Impregnate me, sir,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, “breed me, please!”

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

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

“You like this, whore?” Shouto nips at your throat, his thrusts making you shriek out his name as he buries you further into the bed, your nails digging into his flesh. “You like the way my cock fills your pussy the same way it did that pretty little ass?” You nod rapidly, your eyes closed, your mouth open, your pants tumbling from your mouth. Your sanity was lying on a string, his actions the reasons for your downfall.

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

The muscles on his back seemed to flare dramatically, your screams turning silent due to your approval of this.

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

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

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

You squirt wildly, your juices going everywhere, wetting his groin area, and splashing against the bed.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he growls, and once again slams into you.

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

The bed creaks loudly under you, headboard crashing into the wall, over and over again.

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

That’s all it takes, and a hot and heavy load shoots through you, and Shouto collapses onto you at the same time the bed falls. Neither one of you reacts as gravity shifts you both slightly downwards, but your mind is too full of Shouto to care. His body twitching while his cock remains hard within you, the feeling of his cum swimming in your cunt, making your head spin with euphoria.

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

He pulls out of you gently, and the feeling of his cock no longer in you makes you whimper, your nose burying into his neck as he flips the two of you over so that you’re laying on his chest. His hands send warm and cooling waves through your body, helping soothe the aches in your tired body.

Who knew Endeavor was the key to making Shouto lose control. Maybe you needed to get him to fuck you on this bed more often now.

You can feel the cum seeping from your cunt, and Shouto must have too, for he scooped it back in with his fingers, and you chuckled at the feeling of his warm fingers against your seizing cunt. This was nice, you loved this.

“I didn’t go too overboard, did I?” He asks, his voice small given that he saw the blood that trailed down your neck and the raised handprints on your ass.

“No,” you say, your hands running down his muscled sides. “Not at all, I really enjoyed this, sir.”

Your words are teasing, and the two of you chuckle as silence overtakes the two of you.

“I love you, y/n,” he whispers, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“I love you, too, Shouto,” you mumble, your eyes fluttering closed, sleep consuming you.

You don’t remember anything else, only that you woke up the next morning in your bed, your body is strewn with purple bruises, red hickies, and handprints on your body, wearing nothing but Shouto’s shirt and your panties.

“Good morning beautiful,” his voice greets you, and you sigh, soreness rampaging your body.

“Good morning, my love.”

Bonus!

Endeavor walked into his house at three in the morning, the strains of a late night at work had truly exhausted him.

Shouto, who he had asked to take care of his house for only two hours had stayed much later. His son had informed him that he left ten minutes before he arrived. It was too bad, Endeavor thought, he wasn’t able to get back on time to see his son and girlfriend. Tossing his case to the floor, Endeavor was ready for bed.

Trudging through his house, he was quick to realize how humid the house was when he neared his room. His eyebrows scrunched, his attention on alert as he threw open the door, the lights and fan turned on by mistake.

CRASH!

Endeavors’ eyes widened at the sight of the cum-stained bed, the ruined sheets, the slanted chair, and his bed being held together by ice. His eyes locked on the fan blade that fell from its place; it was cracked entirely in the middle. There was no denying that his room was wholly and disgustingly used, and for what?! His stupid kid didn’t ever need to stay!

“SHOUTOOOOOO!”

[quietmyfearswith]

suitkovia ; baron zemo x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

warnings — SMUT SO MINORS GO AWAY, unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex (both m and f receiving), cursing, cheek and clit slapping, groping(ish)

word count — 3,457 words

pairing — fashion designer!helmut zemo x model!reader

a/n —zemo is such a fucking hot daddy and daniel bruhl is just as hot — and what was i gonna do?? not write about it??? psh no way! also blame the suitkovia video because he was so fucking hot andgoofy there.. enjoy this self-indulgent fic! also idk if you can be a baron and a fashion designer but let’s pretend that that’s possible okay? feedback is appreciated and hope u guys have a lovely day !! :> 

also the ones in italics are in sokovian, i just didnt want to translate it into something lmao

tagging @art-estrange

masterlist 

“Sir, your newest model has arrived,” Oeznik informed with a smile; and just as he announced it, the mentioned woman walked in and into the line of sight of the famous Sokovian designer.

Putting down the now empty glass of whiskey he earlier downed, he stood up and approached her, “Hello Y/N,” He huskily greeted her as his hands gently landed on her arms which allowed him to lean over and plant tender kisses on both her cheeks, “I am eternally grateful for your endorsement and modelling of our line of clothes.”

The kiss caught her off guard — but in a pleasant way — and she could only smile coyly, “If anything it is my pleasure to be able to wear your masterpiece of garments, Baron; I’m honoured that you thought of me.”

Releasing his grip from her he then held out a hand for her to take, once she did she was being led in front of the racks of clothes that were lined up — waiting for her to be worn. “Did you want a drink? Perhaps a Turkish delight?”

Eyeing the coffee table where a small platter of sweets and food lay along with some refreshments, she shook her head no and politely declined. “You can leave us now, Oeznik. And we are not to be disturbed, yes?”

“Of course, Sir.”

When the two men spoke in Sokovian, it made her quite uneasy but when she watched the designer run his hands along the fabric of the gowns that were hung, she thought that he was talking about one of the dresses. The wooden doors noisily shut behind her as the assistant left the two of the alone in the room.

“Thank you, again, for coming in here a day earlier than the arranged photoshoot,” He grabbed a gown off the rack and carefully carried it in front of her. “Of course, I understand that it was necessary to ensure that the clothes would fit me well.”

Nodding, he then handed her the silk tulle gown with a smile, “May you try this on first?” Taking the soft gown from him she silently complied and headed to the dressing room he pointed at.

While waiting for her to get changed, he sat down and poured himself another glass of whiskey. Perhaps it was due to her training or attributable to her various ramp model gigs, she quickly changed into the gown; there was one setback however, there was a zipper on the back that was too far for her to reach.

Walking out of the dressing room, she cleared her throat — effectively catching the attention of the Sokovian designer, “Baron? I need some help with the zipper.” She turned around and his breath was hitched in his throat as he saw how beautiful she looked.

“Of course I can help, darling,” He snapped out of his adoring gaze and stood up quickly to zip up the dress. Feeling the pad of his fingers along her skin resulted in both of them feeling a rush of electricity run through. “All done, love.”

It was comical how the fabric whirled around in slow motion as she twirled around to face him; he took a few steps back to admire her fully, “You look exactly like the goddess Persephone, darling.”

Walking in front of the the full length mirror that was placed in the far back part of the room, she observed herself in the eloquently-designed gown and smiled, “The gown looks like something straight out of a fairytale; and it fits me well,” She faced him as she remembered the last part of his statement, “Persephone? Is that your inspiration for this new line?”

Finishing off the remaining liquor he had poured out before nodding and explaining, “The recent books that I’ve been reading are about the Greek gods and goddesses.” He then stood behind her and gently touched her waist, his breath tickling her ear as he spoke, “And Persephone stood out to me the most.”

“Not Aphrodite? Is she not the most beautiful goddess in Mount Olympus?”

“Touche,” He smirked and removed his hands from her sides and went back to the racks and fetched the blue, floral gown that was the first design he made for his most current collection, “But the Olympian beauty wasn’t my focus on all, for I was far too intrigued with Persephone.”

A pout formed her lips as she was confused with his reasoning, “Change into this one first then I can answer the questions you have,” He assured her as if he could read her mind.

Thankfully the second gown that was handed for her to try on was easier for her to zip up; but at the same time she was dismayed at the realization that she wouldn’t be able to feel his hot touch on her skin. Upon stepping out of the velvet dressing room, she announced, “I think this is my favorite gown by far. This really makes me feel like a goddess.”

“To be fair, princess, with or without the clothes you would be crowned a goddess.”

The blunt comment had her biting her lip as she felt undeserving of his praise; standing next to him in front of the mirror, she shook her head and replied, “Well I’m not Greek so your argument is invalid, Baron.”

Once again, his hands roamed around her body — but this time his hands settled on her bare shoulders, “Not all goddesses are Greek; there are Nordic, Celtic, Indian — to name a few.” Looking to her right, where he had rested his chin while his hooded eyes took in every inch of her, she gulped down, “Cultured and intelligent all on top of having a great eye and sense of fashion — is there something you’re lacking?”

“Just my Persephone,” He muttered after placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder. That piqued her interest, she created some distance between the two of them but she laced her hands with his as she smirked, “You think of yourself as Hades?”

“In a way, I do,” He disconnected himself from her and was skimming through the different dresses he had planned for here to wear, “Are you the king of the underworld?” From her tone it was obvious that she was slightly teasing him, but he decided to give her a serious answer either way.

“Despite how magnificent that would be, I am not,” His eyebrows lifted up in excitement as he picked one of the next gowns that Y/N would try on, “But I do admire his passion; he and I share that same thing, you know?”

Handing it over to her, she got the signal that it was her next frock she was to try on; silently, she nodded and took the dress and headed to the dressing room. As she slid on the crepe gown, she then nodded to herself and smiled.

A low whistle was heard when she stepped out in front of the mirror, with a smile Zemo’s fingers danced around her neck as he fastened the cape in its place, “Now you look like something carved out of marble.”

Trailing down from her neck, his hands settled themselves on top of her breasts, “Is the neckline too much?” Her chest heaved up in anticipation as she shook her head no, “I don’t think it is, Baron.”

Smiling, he nodded and placed a kiss on the intersection of her neck and shoulders, “I’m delighted you feel so, darling. I feel like you have questions regarding my earlier statement.” Her small nod encouraged the designer to explain further, “Hades is often dismissed for he is the king of the dead. But, if anything, I think it is his passion for Persephone that he should be known for.”

“Oh?” Was the only word that escaped her with a shaky breath; a simple kiss in her skin had reduced her brain into a puddle, but the simple word spurred him to continue, “After finding the woman of his dreams, he did everything in his power to keep her in his arms.” His hands then slid down from her breasts and to her waist, pushing her body closer to his. Taking in her heavenly scent, he smiled upon feeling goosebumps against the skin of her shoulder where his lips were.

“Have you found your Persephone then?”

“I have now,” He gruffly spun her around and latched his lips on hers; she quickly welcomed his soft lips as she opened her mouth and moaned out as  his hands nestled themselves on her ass, occasionally squeezing her cheeks. Her hands ran along his bearded cheeks and pushed him closer to her.

She whimpered when he tore off the cloak hastily and sucked on her neck, “You’re so fucking beautiful, darling.” As soon as he unzipped her dress she automatically shrugged it off her shoulders, exposing how she didn’t wear any kind of underwear underneath it. Amused, Zemo smirked as he ran his hand along her stomach, “Do you always go about without any kind of underwear?”

“No, not really,” She denied, “It’s easier to slip in between dresses without underwear holding me back.” Holding onto her waist he then carried her to lay on her back on the velvet couch, “Well that just makes it easier for me to please my goddess.”

He dipped down and licked her clit with his thick, wide tongue; and with just one lick of his tongue she was placing her legs on his shoulders, pulling him closer to her. “Fuck, more please,” Hearing her moan out for her, egged him to shove his tongue in her tight canal as he swirled around and tasted her sweet juices.

“What got you this wet, my little goddess?” It was a rhetorical question — which was a good thing for she was so deep in pleasure that she couldn’t process anything in her pleasure-riddled brain. His thumb rubbed her clit vigorously while his other hand inched upward and grabbed onto her nipple, twisting and pulling on it.

“Were you this eager to be fucked, darling?” The vibrations of the filthy words had her locking her legs behind his neck,  further nudging his tongue deeper into her pussy. A loud whine erupted from her mouth when he pulled his face away, “Does that disappoint you, love?”

“Please, Baron. I need you,” She moaned out, her eyes blinking as tears of pleasure threatened to spill out. Wordlessly, he slid two of his fingers in her pussy and lowered his mouth so he could lick her clit. He didn’t break eye contact with her as she watched him lap her juices while his fingers were being squeezed by her damp walls.

“Is this what you needed, darling? Wanted my fingers?” She nodded as tangled her hand into his har, “Fuck! How am I going to fit my cock when you are already struggling to take my fingers.”

Her chest was heaving up and down in pleasure as she thrashed around, “Want you, want you so bad.” Her declaration had his chest rumbling with pride as he pulled his fingers away and kissed her hardened nub one last time.

“Is that so? Can you take all of me inside you then?” He lifted his face right in front of hers, she moved to slant their lips together. Dribbling down from his mouth to hers, she got a faint taste of her juices; and in the model’s opinion, it tasted better when it was mixed with his saliva.

“Want to please you first baron,” She clawed at the ends of his sweater, hands loving the feel of his warm back, “Can I taste you first?” The way she pleaded for him had him smirking at the realization that she was just as desperate for him as he was for her. Giving his consent silently, he helped lift off the cashmere sweater he was wearing and toss it on the foot. Switching both their sides so he lay under her posed as a challenge for her kisses went south — from peppering kisses on his beard, she lowered them until her cold mouth met the wide expanse of his chest.

“You really have a way,” He paused his train of thought as her lips gave his nipple a gentle tug; his eyes darkened with desire as he watched her give the opposite nipple the same treatment before kissing her way down his stomach, “With that precious tongue of yours, darling.”

The way her eyes peered up at him innocently contradicted the way her hands expertly unbuckled his pants; and once his pants, along with his underwear, was being moved off of him she licked her lips in anticipation. One hand stroked the entirety of his length while the other rested on his thigh, anchoring herself.

As if to test the waters, she placed kitten licks on the tip of his cock, “Fucking hell, darling,” The designer moaned out once she lowered herself and allowed her mouth to enclose around half of his cock. The way his cock poked around the inside of her mouth was a delightful intrusion for her; soon enough the tip of his cock was poking the back of her throat.

His short nails were digging themselves against her hair as his chest rumbled in pleasure, “You got me so close, love. Want to have a taste of Sokovia?” The chuckle he let out quickly died down when she fondled his balls with one hand as she shook her head a bit as she deepthroated him long enough until she gagged a bit.

It wasn’t long before he spilled all over her mouth,  “Fuck, darling,” He moaned out as she milked him. Easing his grip on her head, he smiled upon seeing her lick her lips and open her mouth — showing him how he swallowed every single drop of his cum.

“You taste delicious, Baron,” She said with a smile as she rose up from where she was kneeling and moved to sit on his lap, “Can I please ride you?” Her meek petition had him even harder. Wordlessly, he snaked an arm in his cock, tapping it against her pussy before sliding it in her; in one motion he was already halfway inside her.

“Already so wet for me, darling,” Helmut moaned out when he lifted her by the asscheeks, leaving only his tip inside her; her nails were leaving marks on his shoulders as she mewled out, “Please fuck me, Baron.” Just as she spoke the final syllable, he then rammed his cock all the  way in her, causing her to lurch forward, pressing her chest against his. It gave him leverage to fuck her fiercely yet slowly, as if savoring every moment inside her.

With her mouth pressed against his ear, she was moaning out loud for him which sounded like music to the designer’s ears; whereas his mouth was focused on leaving marks of his desire on her shoulder. “Been wanting you for a while, love,” The Baron rasped out as his thrusts sped up when he felt her walls squeezing onto his thickness even more, “Saw you walk down the ramp at Milan and I just knew,” He groaned mid sentence when she moved away from him and leaned down to kiss him tenderly — a juxtaposition from where his cock was now mercilessly and swiftly entering her tight canal, “Just knew I had to have you.”

The declaration of his admiration had her feeling oddly more confident in herself, “Am I like everything you ever wanted, Baron?” He rapidly nodded before moving his head away to get a good look of her — she was biting her lip, yet it couldn’t contain her delicious whimpers from reaching his ears, whereas with every bounce she made resulted in her breasts hypnotizingly moving along. Enclosing a nipple in his mouth, he pulled on it hard enough for her to rake her hands in his hair and shove him harder against her hardened nub.

“I’m so close, Baron,” She moaned out at the absence of his mouth, but was quickly satisfied when he took on the other nipple. Even without her verbal forewarning, he would have known that with the way it was getting more difficult for his cock to slide in and out of her clenched, wet walls. “Are you gonna claim my cock as yours, darling?”

Feeling the presence of his cock surpass her sweet spot and hit her cervix was too much for her as she weakly nodded, “Want you so bad,” She moaned out as she was starting to feel overwhelmed. The designer could feel his own cock pulse upon seeing her current state; he unwillingly removed his mouth from her now swollen nipples — much to both of their dismay — yet he tried to make up for it by lowering a hand to the front of her pussy, alternating between rubbing and pinching her clit. “I want you to cum for me, love,” He rasped out as his other hand was on her cheek, urging him to focus on him. “Your juices should be running down on my cock, okay?”

Slightly turning her head, she sucked on his thumb as she continued to rock herself harder on his cock — the thought of an impending orgasm sounding wonderful. A gasp escaped her lips when the Baron slapped both her cheek and clit when he did not receive affirmation from her, “I need your answer, darling, will you cum for me like the good girl I know you can be?”

Whether it was her desire to be his or the fact that she just didn’t want that added stimulation, she nodded her head vigorously as she indistinctly muttered, “Gonna cum for you, Baron. Want your cock all for myself.”

Pleased with her response, he then drove his cock in her deeper and harder while she wrapped her arms around his shoulders as her lips were quivering right under his thumb was tucked in safely. With one particular harsh thrust, she came and bit on his thumb too hard; despite feeling a sharp pain, Zemo smirked and continued to ram his cock in and out of her as he too was on the brink of another orgasm.

As she was placing kitten lick on his thumb as an attempt to calm herself down, she allowed him to take control; it was incredible how much strength he had because with one hand latched on her hips, he was matching the way her body rose and fall matched the pace in which he was fucking her. “I’m never gonna let you go now, darling. You’re all mine now.”

Delighted with that, she removed his thumb in her mouth and looked at him — fondness and lust portrayed through her eyes — and said, “Cum in me, Baron.” As if her words set off a trigger, he came load after load of his cum, painting her walls as his. Panting heavily as he pressed his forehead against hers, taking in the glow that encompassed her entire body.

Lovingly stroking both her cheeks they both smiled at each other; she spoke up first, “I hope you don’t always sleep with your models.” Despite the overwhelming pleasure she had just experienced, she couldn't prevent her from feeling insecure about the repercussions of their little rendezvous. The hairs at the nape of his neck was something she distracted herself with since she was too nervous for his response; tilting her head to get her to meet him eye to eye so he could reassure her, “No, my love, I don’t make it a habit to go and sleep around. Truth be told, from now on I only plan on sleeping with you.”

His line had her chuckling and lightly shoving his shoulder, still in disbelief with the words that left his mouth. “You’re my Persephone, the one I have been searching for; and I have no plans of letting you go,” He spoke and looked at her wholeheartedly and genuinely, hoping that he would solidify his claim and hopefully get her to believe him.

As her lip quivered and eyes watered, she hugged him close and showered every inch of skin of his that she could reach with kisses, “You don’t know how much that means to me, Baron. I, too, would not do the foolish thing of letting you go, ever.”

It was only then that the designer knew what true happiness was as he rubbed her back gently, pushing her body even more closer to him, “You’re with me now, darling, for life. I’ll treat you like the goddess that you are.”

[ac3id]

Hawk’s eye| 18+

pairings: hawks [keigo tamaki] x female! reader

summary: hawks is in his rut, desperate for some relief. his annoying secretary won’t stop irritating him so he decides to take his pent up frustrations on her.       ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

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anonymous said:

hi!! so while the requests are still open, could you write some headcannons for Hawks x reader when he's in rut? maybe the reader is a bit clueless and doesn't even know he goes through stuff like that? dirty details are welcome 👀❤️

this was high-key inspired by @tainted-wine​‘s this fic. (i hope u like my take on it !! 💓) 

a/n: aaaa this took so much longer than i thought it would take 😭, also thanks @the-grimm-writer  for proof reading this! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) also this is porn w plot so if u just was to skip to da porn. skip to this ‘◌’ bhai 

ALSO THANKYOU FOR 900 FOLLOWERS LMAO WTF FOR REAL 😭

tagging: @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa​, @koiibito​, @reinawritesbnha​, @shorkbrian​

warnings: noncon, hate fucking, one slap, she bites his dick at some point, scumbag hawks.

word count:  5862

navigation

The sound of your phone buzzing on the side table with a loud, irritating noise jolts you awake. You roll around on the bed, your fingers reaching to turn the vibrating device off. Groaning, you sit up straight. The warm mattress under you threatens to lull you back to sleep but you shove the thought away instead choosing to stretch your arms over your head and yawn endlessly. You were tired, so goddamn tired. Rubbing your temples lazily you start thinking about the dreadful day you have ahead of yourself. You think about your boss: Hawks, the man who makes you hate your life and job. He has trapped you into a never-ending nightmare which starts the second you open your eyes till the moment you fall asleep and even then he still manages to haunt you in your dreams. 

Cleaning up after his messes, obeying his ever so pliantly. He has turned you into his little pet slave. He says that it’s your job as you are his assistant, his little helper there to make his job a little less hectic. You must listen to his needs and wants and to some degree, you do agree with him: it is your job, it’s what you signed up for after all but you can also sense him misusing his title when he is with you. He never listens to your suggestions which results in him calling you late after work hours to help with his problems knowing damn well you had already warned him beforehand. And, oh his flirty, suggestive comments which borderline sexual harassment. Hawks is a difficult man to work with and you often find yourself wondering how much calmer your life would be if you never worked for him but you do not have that luxury of leaving the job. It pays ridiculously well and you have bills to pay, your family to support. No, you cannot afford to lose this job. So you sit through his torment and hope for the best.

Seconds later after you have gathered your will to live you start scrolling through your phone, skimming through the morning news lazily. Your eyebrows furrow and eyes turn into angry slits as you glance upon a displeasing, astonishing article.

 ‘No. 2 Hero Hawks spotted partying with strippers–’

Your heart stops for a moment.

What the fuck was this? 

You hesitantly read through the article, your heartbeat increasing every second that your eyes focus on the led screen, reading the details of the damned article. Eyes widening as panic settles in your nerves, you realize the gravity of the situation you had found yourself under as Hawks’ manager. Hawks had been spotted partying with strippers in a nightclub with a bunch of celebrities. The crazy stalker who had managed to follow him succeeded in capturing exclusive pictures of Hawks dressed in an expensive suit, his hair styled to perfection dancing under the dim lights of the club with women in basically their underwear shamelessly grinding upon him. You honestly couldn’t have given a single fuck about what Hawks did in his free time but since he had managed to get a paparazzi to tail him and now that his career was at risk; it became your problem. Your first and foremost instinct was to call Hawks and ask him what the hell he was thinking. Not being careful enough, he had managed to taint his entire reputation. The people of Japan now probably viewed him as a reckless party animal rather than the No. 2 Hero! 

Before you could call him, your phone’s screen lights up illuminating a contact you dread. ‘Hero Commission’ it’s written in bold letters, your face drops. Your fingers shake, filled with anxiety as you accept the call. Inhaling and exhaling, you try to calm your nerves. If it is a call from the Commission, you know it’s bad. Bad. 

You pick up the phone and instantly regret it, “What were you doing?” an angry, masculine voice snarls through the screen. You open your mouth to answer but are not given a chance too. “How did you let him go to a strip club during patrol hours?” you bite your lip thinking of an acceptable excuse, “He had to go there for work! It’s a misunderstanding. He went down to the strip club undercover to meet up with a crook to get some intel– that’s what he told me. This is a misunderstanding, I–” your explanation was cut short as the person on the other end of the call deemed it enough. “Whatever it is, fix it and never let this happen again.” he sneers a warning before cutting the call. It wasn’t a complete lie, Hawks did tell you that he was investigating a case on his own and that he would be gaining information from shady people but you did not expect him to go to a strip club out of all places. The worst part: he never even told you in detail anything about this case neither did he notice the paparazzi tailing his back. You sigh in frustration, rubbing your forehead, you quickly ring up his number only for it be sent right to voicemail. You almost scream. Where the fuck was this bastard?

Managing Hawks was not a walk in the park. The hero commission had sent you down especially to be Hawks’ secretary. You had a reputation: you were known to be responsible, diligent, and punctual. You were one of their best, entrusted with the responsibility to manage Hawks and you did a good job but it was Hawks who just made the job so hard. 

Creating problems he could never solve by himself; on lucky days you would get a call from him at three in the morning, him begging you to come to help him. You want to say no, deny him any help. Let him suffer by himself but you cannot do that. If he screws up and you are not there to fix it. You lose your job, you can’t afford that. You give your 100%, you do but it’s Hawks. He has a problem with you, well, he has a problem with everyone in the commission but projects it mainly at you. He does not respect you. 

He chooses to ignore your decisions and suggestions, diminishing them with a cruel chuckle, “Look, I need you but just not now.” He would say with an apologetic smile, “just let me work at my own pace, I will call when I will need you. After all, I love seeing your cute face.” You would always have to force yourself from not slapping his smug face before he took off into the bright, blue sky.

The truth untold, it wasn’t his fault completely either. He was just so fast. It was hard for anyone to keep up with him and since he did his job right; bringing peace to the nation you could not deem him worthless. But it still was a bother at times like this when you were left completely in the dark while Hawks ruined his hard-earned reputation. 

You got into the building earlier that morning to wait for Hawks in his office, you needed to talk to him. This was not his first mishap. Not long ago, another article about him shamelessly flirting with a fan had been published. It had said the fan was visibly uncomfortable with him but Hawks didn’t seem to care, he kept presting. You had managed to cover it up as the two being close friends who were publicly joking around, there was no real harm done. It was a lie though, you had to pay the fan a large check to keep her mouth shut. She accepted the money and the story was lost and forgotten but you had no idea how you were going to cover this hell up.

The clock struck nine as the day began, people rushing into the building all tensed but there was no sign of Hawks. You tried calling him on his number but the call directed to voicemail yet again. You were growing impatient, did something happen to him? Sure Hawks fucked things over sometimes but he never disappeared like this. It got you genuinely worried. Something horrible could have happened to him. After all, he was on a case. 

You waited for another thirty minutes and there was yet no sign of him. His sidekicks came knocking on his office door only to be surprised to see you there instead of their boss. You told them to continue with their day and not worry about Hawks, he was just awfully late. Not a big deal, he will be here soon. Soon. 

Another hour passed by, no sign of Hawks and about now your phone was blowing up with angry calls from his sponsors and business partners, screaming at the top of their lungs frowning upon the scandal. Heck, even Endeavor called you after he couldn’t reach Hawks himself. The call made you nervous as anxiety crept in yet again. Hawks wasn’t answering to Endeavour something bad must have happened. Getting tired of the wait, you make up your mind to drop by his penthouse and to go see him for yourself. His silence was driving you crazy and worried at the same time, you just hoped he would be there well and safe. You could not imagine the ruckus that would create if something were to happen to him. 

You walked out of his office after waiting for an hour. Rushing down to the basement you got into your car and before driving away to his house. Just before leaving, you decided to test your luck by calling him. Hoping, praying he would answer this time and luckily he did .

“Hawks!” you cried, a wave of relief washing over you, “Where are you? What are you doing?” you began pestering him with questions, not letting him answer even once. Hawks, tired of waiting,  interrupted your monologue of questions with a chuckle. “Aw, you’re worried about me, baby?” his tone was low and mischievous, the sentence slurring almost into a moan at the last word. You rolled your eyes and clenched your fists in irritation, you weren’t new to his teasing. Hawks thought it was appropriate for him to casually flirt with his secretary. Send unasked comments about your figure, perverted implications about what he would do to a ‘cute little thing like you’ which made you very uncomfortable being around him at times. But it wasn’t that what made him get on your last nerves. It was the fact that he could even think about joking at a time like this which made you furious. 

You screamed into the phone, giving him a piece of your mind. Degrading him for not taking care of himself, complaining about how he had managed to put you in such a tight spot. 

“Once again I am asking, where the fuck are you. Hawks?” you ended your speech with spite in your words. Hawks sighed, “I am in the office,” he says your name with an edge in his voice, instantly shutting you down, “Where the hell are you?” The smugness in his tone remains and you can tell he is smirking on the other side of the screen as if he’s won. You hang up abruptly before walking out of your car and into the building, hurriedly making your way towards Hawk’s office. 

You slam the door open glaring upon hawks as he sits behind his table. Dirty boots resting pliantly on the shiny, polished wood. His wings out, stretched to their fullest, filling up the room standing on high alert. They have a deeper hue to them, they look darker– a darker red. How did that happen? You find yourself wondering. Is he on drugs? His face is tilted upwards, facing the ceiling. Eyes screwed shut. They open as he hears you enter and walk towards him, his wings falling back behind him calm and collected. 

“You’re late,” he says with a smirk, you bang your fist on the table beside where his feet rest, making him flinch and bring them down instinctively. His eyes widened in shock, he was not expecting you to be this furious. Sure, he knew he knew he had gotten you mad but he was not expecting you to be this angry. Without any hesitation, you start scolding him again. He watches you ramble in ominous glee. A poker face masking his expression, he watches you trot about how much trouble he is in. His job is to protect meek and weak citizens who cannot fight for themselves, what he was doing in a strip in the name of business is something you cannot grasp your head around. You repeat your lecture which you had already tortured him over the phone while the entire time Hawks drums his fingers underneath the table, waiting for you to get over with your dumb speech. His eyes trail on your lips, watching it move. Plump, pillow-like features tinted dark red ramble on about how much of an irresponsible person he was. Complaining about how much trouble he puts you through daily. Honestly, he doesn’t quite catch what you were saying. His mind busy imaging you shutting the fuck and letting him get through the day– or better yet how pathetic you would look underneath him while he shoves his dick down your throat. The thought makes his cock throb. His eyes change from an unbothered, bored look to something sinister as they start trailing all over your body. His eyebrows slightly furrow as he catches up on the few degrading terms you throw at him. 

You talked too much. Way too much, do you realize how much better you would look if you keep your pretty, little mouth shut? The entire time, it’s always: Hawks don’t do this, Hawks don’t do that. Don’t you ever get tired? He wonders whether your dumb little brain had any thoughts other than the ones which tell you to irritate him all the time. You should shut up, really stop talking. He might do something bad, he’s already stressed enough as it is being in his rut and having no way to relieve himself, he is going through a rough time here. The other night he escaped to a strip club in hopes of relieving some stress and it had worked but it had also brought along a mind splitting scandal.

The entire morning, Hawks was busy avoiding people. Whether it be his fans, reporters, or even someone he knew; he paid no mind to them trying to get to the office as soon as possible to deal with the mess he had created.

It wasn’t his fault entirely, he was in his rut and needed sexual relief which he was finding very hard to receive. With his work piling up and you breathing down his neck, he couldn’t even take represents as they slowed him down. He couldn’t risk falling asleep on duty. A stupid, little headline about what he does in his free time was much more favorable than a failed mission in which he would let countless innocent lives slip by his fingers. 

He watches you ramble, his eyes trailing over your body locking on your tits. He stares at them intensely, watching them bounce slowly every time you huff out of irritation and frustration. Your work shirt works him favors, the white almost translucent material shows off the slightest shadow of your black, lacy bra. It’s enough to get him going- imaging how your soft mounds would feel in his hands. How you would whimper under his touch as he tugs and pulls on your perky nipples, you probably wouldn’t sound as monstrous as you do right now. Your moans would be girlish, small whimpers would leave your lips as you would try your best to cover them up. You would try to hide your face under his assault but he wouldn’t let you, pinning you down instead and forcing himself on you while you cried for him to stop. Beg for his mercy. 

He can feel his jeans tighten. 

“So please, Hawks. Just be a little more responsible.” you finish, your voice turning into a plea. He hums and apologizes for his impulsive thinking, like always, he is not sorry. “Let's fix this mess, what do you say?” he asks with an apologetic grin, trying to be polite. You on the other hand don’t even spare him a glance, walking right out the door instead. It leaves him very offended. 

◌

“Ah! What a troublesome day it was,” Hawks chimes in walking into his office with you closely following behind, “It was all your fault.” you spit making hawks chuckle, “Whatever happens, happens for the good.” he says, a scoff leaves your lips, “What was good about that?” you ask annoyed. “I get to have you alone with me now~” Hawks winks at you making you roll your eyes dramatically. Both of you stand together in Hawks’ office after hours. The day is done, everyone in the agency building has taken their leave excluding the two of you. It had been a long day fixing up after Hawks. You were tired and all you wanted was a warm bath and some sleep. 

“Do you want to know why it happened?” Hawks asks out of the blue, “What happened?” you question, “Why was I at the strip club?” you sigh, “I don’t give two shits about your personal life, Hawks.” replying sternly. A look of disappointment arises on his face, “It’s actually more than that, really, I u-uh have this condition- it gets very hard to work during these times-”

 “What are you even talking about?” You interject confused and clueless. You turn to him, a glare evident on your face you stare at him sheepishly. What was he on about now?

“I am serious, I went into my rut, and that's why I went to the strip club-” “Into a what?” Hawks’ eyes widened, were you really that clueless? “A rut, [y/n],” he says like it is a matter of fact, something everybody is aware of. “A rut. You know like how some animals go into heat and they-” your face scrunches as he explains his rut to you, you visibly grow more and more repulsed. Hawks studies you face, his heart genuinely breaking at your expressions. “Why are you telling me this?” you screech, “jeez Hawks, I did not need to know any of that!” you continue. 

Hawks is hurt, he accepted a reaction which showed more concern. Maybe he went a bit too far imagining that you would offer him help but seeing you so disgusted by him shattered his heart and made him lose all his respect for you. You were a terrible human being, no different from those villains he put behind the bars every day. “I am telling you all of this because- this actually happens!  Many- fuck- millions of people like me actually suffer from this shit! You should be a little more emphatic.” he reasons. He accepts you to understand at least now but you gloriously manage to disappoint him yet again. A rude snarl leaves your lips followed by a scoff, “What are you really trying to tell me Hawks? That you don’t want to do your job and to justify your laziness; you are making lame excuses now?” you shove a finger to his chest, it pushes him off the edge. 

Something in his snaps, he looks down where your fingertip touches his chest. You are smaller than him, he’s at least a foot bigger than you. Where does your bratty, puny self get all this confidence from? His eyes darken as something sinister floats within him. He stares down at your finger, wanting to rip it off. He wants to see you cry. He wants to see you in pain and misery, suffering a great deal while nobody comes to help you. 

“Hawks, you know what? I am so done with your bullshit. I am leaving.” You turn away from him, heading to the door but before you could move a step. Hawks grabs you by writs, caging your delicate hand into a bone-crushing death grip, “What the fuck?” you question, “Hawks?” you continue. You wait for his response, turning to him. He is facing the floor, his hair scanning over his eyes making it impossible for you to read his expression, not that you could read what was going on with him normally but now; it’s even harder. “Are you going to let go?” you ask again only to be met by him squeezing your wrists even tighter. You bring your other hand over him to pry yourself free from his clutches but he doesn’t want to let go. 

“Hawks wha-” you don’t get to complete your statement as Hawks pushes you down on the floor making you fall on your butt. You let out a loud hiss. You frown, yelling out “What is wrong with you!?” You try to stand back up but his hands settle on your shoulder pushing you back down. You try fighting but it’s to no use. Did you forget he is the no. 2 Pro- Hero? He is much stronger than you, he brings down villains twice his size daily. What makes you think your weak kicks and punches will be enough to beat him? 

You keep struggling under him, screaming how you were going to report him and ruin his career, how he is going to be sorry for messing with you.

 “Shut. Up.” he finally speaks, he brings his gloved hand to your perfectly styled hair. Pulling tightly on your roots he stretches your face upwards, making it easier for him to look down on you while you cry in agony, “Stop crying.'' His voice is deep and raspy, much different from how he usually talks. You look up at him, fear swimming in your eyes as tears prick at the corners of your sockets, lips trembling. If you already weren’t terrified enough, your horror becomes tenth fold when you see his boner raging in his pants, “Come, on. Hawks..” your voice is small and weak, it's a broken cry. You know what he is going to make you do. He was going to violate you, break you beyond repair. 

This was so wrong. As much you hated Hawks, you never would have thought he would do something like this. Hawks was a hero. He is meant to fight for justice, punish evil. Why is he doing this? “Hawks no. Please. Was it something I said? I take it back I didn’t mean it-” 

“You know, y/n, you are not so different from those villains yourself,” if looks could kill, you would be dead. The pure, anger, and hatred he looks at you with bothers you. It makes you hate yourself, there is something sinister in his eyes which makes you sure about the fact that he is not afraid of hurting you. He has given up on you, after all, his polite gestures, generosity you always ignored- he’s fed up with your sheer ignorance and your ego. He hates you. He does and heck if he wasn’t in his rut; he would never bring his dick anywhere near you. He does not respect you as a human and in no way does he have any romantical attachment to you. All he ever saw was a walking alarm clock, bugging him every second, and now all he is going to see you as is his cocksleeve whom he can stuff his fat cock into whenever and however he seems fine. To him you are just a walking hole he can ruin whenever he wants to, you have managed to get on his bad side and he is going to show you his bad side.

He undoes his belt, his pants falling to his thighs displaying his expensive boxers and his growing hardness. His cock is throbbing within its confines, fighting desperately to come free. His free hand pulls his boxers down and his cock springs free, hitting his abdomen. It stands long and hard, the tip blushed red and angry, tiniest bit of pre-cum spilling sweetly from his slit. He pumps his cock in his hand before forcing it against your mouth, pressing it to your lips smearing his pre all over your lips. You whimper in protest, moving your head the littlest you can under his tight grip. “Bitch open up. You had this coming for a long time,” his dick slaps your cheek while his fingers try to pry open your mouth. Pushing his gloved digits forcefully into your mouth, the rough fabric feels disgusting on your tongue. His fingers capture the lower part of your jaw, tearing your mouth apart with deranged strength. A loud cry escapes from you as he stuffs your empty mouth full of his cock, “Yeah, that’s more like it. Fuck.” he bottoms out into your throat, his shaft hitting the back of your throat making you gag, “get on with it. A slut like you would have the experience, right?” he taunts you. You do as he says, puckering your lips firmly around his length, your hands resting on his exposed thighs while you stroke him with your tongue. You feel his chiseled thigh muscles flex under your fingers as he melts in pleasure, tiny moans leaving his lips shamelessly. 

As Hawks drowns in overwhelming pleasure, a criminal idea crosses your mind. Your eyes trail up to his face. His eyes are screwed close, he bites his lower lip softly. Carefully and slowly, you graze your teeth over his cock. Clamping down on it lightly, you hold your position. Your heart beats faster when Hawks stiffens and in a quick flash, he pushes you off his cock throwing you into the ground before backing up, squealing in pain.

 “YOU LITTLE BITCH!” he screams, you sprint to the door. Trembling fingers try to unlock the doorknob while Hawks cries in agony behind you. You can feel him loom behind you, ready to come for your neck. A part of you tells you that you will not make it but the adrenaline rushing in your veins calls to be hopeful. Just open the door and just run. 

Your cold, quivering fingers almost unlock the heavy wooden door but before you can push it open. Hawks appears right behind you, pushing his body onto your back. You feel his cock poking at your ass, his hand grabs your head pulling you, prying you off the door. You scream and cry trying to break free, grabbing his hand clawing on it to let you free. Hawks chooses to show no mercy as he drags you by your hair to his desk, your scalp hurts from his grip. You can feel tiny strands breakaway. He turns you around and slams your back to his wooden desk, you whimper at the contact. He stands in front of you, pressing his knee between your thighs. His hand reaches out to pull at your collar, forcing you to look at him. 

He is livid, eyebrows furrowed with a death glare his jaw clenched, and his eyes darker than you have ever seen before. He looks at you with murderous intent, you think he might as well kill you with his wings flared open. The feathers turning into knives, you beg for your life. 

Hawks observes your face. Broken, scared for your life your eyes are glassy, ridden in fear your makeup smeared all over your face. He thinks it's beautiful, he has finally got you begging for mercy, finally thinking of him as the man he is. He appreciates your submission but it does not erase the fact that you just bite oh his dick. You beg for mercy, your voice is small and broken. It comes barely above a whisper, “I am so sorry hawks, please don’t do this.” He doesn’t listen, staring at you head-on with his jaw clenched. He brings his free hand to the air, keeping it steady for a second before bringing it down with a horrendous force. You feel it before it happens; white, hot flashing pain erupts through your cheek stinging you hard. You cry out in agony as your face drops to the other side. The strike was powerful, it left you sore, you can still feel it sting your face. It leaves you swollen, you try to bring your hand up to your face lightly to carcasses you paining cheek but Hawks pushes your face on the wooden desk before you could, trapping your arms behind your back holding it with one hand. “You don’t realize your position, do you? You know what? I was going- planning to be gentle with you. I thought I would at least make you cum but now,” he pulls a feather out his wings preceding to tear open your pencil skirt with the sharp end. The ripped fabric falls to the ground leaving you in your panties and the pantyhose you always wear under your skirts, “There we go. I hope you are a pain slut, otherwise you would really not enjoy this.” he says with a small chuckle before ripping you out of your bottoms, leaving you in your panties completely vulnerable to him. He abandons his gloves, rubbing his fingers on your clothed cunt roughly trying to gather slickness from your dry hole. Pleasure shoots down your body as his digits find your clit, rubbing tight circles on the little pearl, “Does this feel good? You are getting wet.” a smirk scars his face, “Who gets off to being raped?” he says sharply. Your face scrunches up in disgust and embarrassment. A heavy lump forms in your throat and the waterworks that you had been holding off burst open. Big, fat tears roll down your cheeks as you cry for mercy. You didn't know why this was happening to you, for your entire life you had been a nice person: always helpful, sensitive, and kind. At least, that was what you thought yourself to be. Never in a million years could you- or anyone, in fact, could have ever thought that you would be crying pathetically while your boss: a person known to all as a Hero, the truest, most honest person to exist ever would be the one defiling you, tearing you down to nothing just for his pleasure. 

“Shut up, you like this.” He snarls at you, so sick of your loud wails he even shoves two fingers inside your mouth plunging them to the back of her throat, “Don’t you dare bite now, slut.” he warns. His fingers stop prodding at your clit when he notices the wet spot forming on your panties, he wastes no time shimming them down to your ankles, whistling when he sees your glistening pussy. You only wail louder pleading him not proceed any further. Hawks turns a blind eye to all your begging, “I should just shove it in, right?” he asks petting his finger over your hole, “but that won’t be fun,” he snickers. You feel his move away from your cunt and move higher. Panic settles, he couldn't be serious, “Hawks. Please no. Please don’t. I don-” finger rims along your asshole, inching to dip in, “What? Don’t want me to fuck your ass?” he spanks your ass hard making you flinch, “Please I’ve never-” you cry out hoping he would understand, “No one’s ever fucked you in the ass before?” you whine at the lewd words which shamelessly fall from his lips, “Guess there’s a first for everything.” he says with a scoff. 

His digits bury into your hole, stretching you out in a way you’ve never felt before. The stretch burns, filling a fresh set of tears rolling down your eyes, smudging your mascara and eyeliner You looked like a whore. He keeps hammering his fingers inside you without mercy, a loud whine leaves your lips as you feel a tingle of pleasure from him hitting the right spot. “Do you like that? Too bad, this isn’t for you.” he moves his fingers from you before lining his fat cock to your almost too tiny hole, “How will this fit?” he laughs to himself, pressing his engorged tip in slowly, “Will be a tight fit,” he continues to shove his cock into your hole, his face turns off one to ecstasy as your walls take him inch by inch. You scream in pain, his cock was much bigger than his fingers. It was stretching you out, numbing your mind and soul, you did not know how much more you could take. Salty tears fell from your eyes as Hawks bottomed himself in you, he waited for a moment before starting to thrust into you unforgivingly. Dragging his fat cock out and your walls pulling him right back in. As he kept ramming into you. Slowly, you start to pleasure tingle up your spine as his tip smashed against the right spots. Your cries of pain turn to pleasurable moans. Hawks wastes no time in teasing you, “Look at you moaning like a slut,” he spanks your ass with swift force sending your rear to sting. You feel unbearable pleasure starting to build up in your abdomen, a straining coil wanting to burst which each of Hawks’ strong thrusts yet it is left unfilled as the simulation is not enough to make you cum from all alone. Hawks notices this, the pitiful crying for him to touch your swollen little clit which was begging to be played with. He almost thought he would give it to you, after all, he was a good person. Almost. 

Hawks just snicker, his cruel, sadistic laugh echoing in the room, “No, no, no.” he teases, “no matter how much you cry, baby. I am not letting you cum. This is your punishment, you deserve this. You’ve been a bad girl.” Hawks couldn’t formulate how he was able to form complete sentences. The moment he had caught you, he had let himself go feral. Dragging you down like a predator, he finally had you under him. He kept grunting and breathing profanity down your ear along with shameful praises about how well your slutty ass takes him. He is glad he is finally getting his much-deserved relief but he is not done yet. He won’t be done until he is filling your vulnerable womb with his seed, he won’t be done until he hears you asking him to give you his children. He is not going to leave you be until he has destroyed you, balls deep in your tiny pussy. He is going to keep you here all night fucking you, he is going to stay there all night fucking you with hate which he has buried within himself for you over the years. He is going to melt you in his hand, break you until only he can build you up, and maybe he will not let you go even after that. Maybe he will keep you after all hawks mate for life. 

Just hope he lets you cum the next time. 

[atlabeth]

neighborly things - sokka x fem!reader

summary: reader can’t make things for shit. thankfully, she has a cute and crafty neighbor willing to help her. 

a/n: im so sorry lmao. i have requests and i have 2 series that havent been updated in like a month but sometimes i just need to write a stupid little oneshot to get back in the writing mood. i did this in an hour 

im not a screwdriver expert so dont come at me if some of this info is wrong lmao 

wc: 1.6k 

warning(s): some cursing but otherwise pure fluff. also i didnt proofread im SORRY im pretty sure they laugh grin and smile like 200 times 

-

“Dammit!” 

 Anyone unfortunate enough to have a place near you during this time would have heard the phrase on more than twenty occasions, and it wasn’t even noon yet. You had gotten the parts in the mail to put together a new dresser a couple days ago, and had finally decided to take on the task. You didn’t know if it was because you were inexperienced with furniture or just lacked basic comprehension skills, but it was proving to be no less than Herculean. 

 You threw the screwdriver at the wall and fell back to the floor as you let your arms sprawl out above you. You had been trying to screw in a part for no less than thirty minutes, and if a miracle didn’t happen right about now, you were going to lose your mind. 

Your head snapped towards the door when she heard a knock, and your brows creased. “God?” You muttered as you got up, wondering if you had actually thought a miracle into existence. 

 You weren’t greeted by a deity when you opened the door, but the man standing in front of you was pretty damn close. With ocean blue eyes, hair pulled back in a ponytail with shaved sides, and toned arms, he was a sight to behold. But you had no idea why he was in front of your door. 

 “Hey, are you okay?” He questioned, genuine concern in his tone. 

 “Um, yeah, why?” You were trying to rack your brain for any memory of this guy — because you knew you would remember him if you had seen him before — but to no avail. “Also, who are you and why are you here?”

 “Right,” he chuckled. “My name’s Sokka. I’m your neighbor; I live—” he gestured at the door just next to your place, “—over there. Moved in a couple weeks ago, so that’s probably why you don’t know me. I’ve just been hearing a lot of cursing and loud noises coming from your place, so I figured I would stop in and see what was going on.” 

 “Oh. That’s.. very considerate of you, Sokka. I’m just…” you sighed and chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. “I’m just trying to put together a dresser, and it’s not going well at all. That latest sound you heard was the culmination of my rage. I threw a screwdriver at the wall.” 

 “Yeah, that’ll do it,” he laughed. “Listen. I don’t wanna intrude on you or anything, but I happen to be pretty good at putting things together. I had to do a lot of furniture construction when I first moved in, plus I’m the one all my friends call when they need help with putting anything together. I could probably help you with whatever’s troubling you.”  

 “Are you serious?” 

 “Oh, no. I just go door to door joking around with people, asking if they need help with their furniture, sometimes I ask if their refrigerator is running? It really gets a kick out of them.” 

 You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly and stepped aside so he could enter your apartment. “Thank you so much, Sokka. I’ve read the instructions a million times, I seriously don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” 

 He crouched down and picked up the manual, turning to a dog-eared page and skimming over the instructions. He pointed at the screwdriver you had thrown against the wall and glanced back at you. “Is that the one you’ve been using?” 

 You closed and locked the door behind him then walked over to the wall, picking up the unfortunate victim of your anger and spinning it in your hands. “Yeah, why?” 

 “Do you know what kind it is?” 

 “Um.. maybe? God, I don’t know. I think it’s a Phillip’s head?” 

 Sokka laughed and shook his head, holding up the manual so you could see it. “That’s where you’re going wrong. You need a Pozidriv for these screws — they’re similar enough that anyone can make a mistake.”

 You stared at Sokka in complete amazement — apparently, your savior lived next door, and he came in the form of a handsome guy with basic knowledge on putting furniture together. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you said as you walked over and took the booklet from himl. You flipped through it a couple times and read over the part, shaking your head in disbelief. 

 “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” you repeated, louder this time. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get that thing to- to work, to screw, to— whatever you call it?” 

 “It’s actually to—”

 “Thirty minutes!” You interrupted, earning a small chuckle from Sokka. “Thirty damn minutes that I have been trying to get that screw in, and it’s all because I was using the wrong screwdriver. Why would they make screwdrivers that are so similar but aren’t interchangeable?!” 

 He shrugged and held up his hands. “Don’t ask me — I don’t make the rules, I just follow them. But like I said; this dresser might fall apart if you keep using this thing. I actually have a Pozidriv back at my place, I can go get it and we can finish this up together.” 

 “God, that would be the biggest help,” you admitted. “But I don’t wanna take up your time — I don’t know how I would even repay you.” 

 “I’m doing this because I want to help you,” he said. “You don’t have to repay me. Think of it as… as a neighborly thing.” 

 “A neighborly thing?” you repeated with a laugh. “Well, if you’re offering, I’m definitely not going to refuse.” 

 “I am offering,” Sokka winked. “And unless you want to be at this for another three days, I think you should take that offer.” 

 You pretended to deliberate over it before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I’ll let you help me. I mean, really you should be thanking me for this brilliant opportunity to, um.. hone your skills.” 

 He laughed, a brilliant sound that made your heart sing, and nodded as he went back to the door. “Thank you so much for letting me put together this dresser. Truly, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

 “Then I’m happy to be of assistance.” 

 Sokka grinned then unlocked and opened the door. “I’ll be right back, then we can get started.”

 -

 Once he got back, the two of you got to work. The next three hours passed so quickly as you and Sokka talked about everything from the work you did to people in your lives (no girlfriend, thankfully), to exchanging stories — even the silence, though rare, was comfortable. 

 Sokka pushed the last drawer into its place then clapped his hands as he stood up, admiring the fruits of your labor. “And that’s it! We’re done.”

 “Wait, we’re done? Already?” You set down the instruction manual and stood up as well, backing up to Sokka’s position to see what he saw. “Wow, that looks.. that looks just like the picture. We are good at this! Well, you’re really good at this, I’m good at keeping you entertained. But still!” 

 You held your hand up for a high five and he laughed, but not without meeting it with a satisfying clap. 

 “It does look pretty good,” he admitted. “And not only do you have a brand new, fully functioning dresser, you also had the priceless experience of spending three hours with the neighbor you know nothing about.” 

 “That’s not true,” you countered. “I know that you’re really good at putting things together, you’re a genius when it comes to anything math or science, and you hate blueberries.” 

 Sokka snickered and brushed his hands off on his jeans. “That’s everything there is to know.” 

 “I dunno, Sokka. You seem like a pretty interesting guy.”

 “Really?”

 “Yeah. It’s not every day that someone offers to put together a whole dresser just because they feel bad.”

 “Well—” he tore off a blank part of the instruction manual and picked up a spare pen from the counter, then put it up against the wall as he scribbled something on it. Sokka put the pen down and handed the slip of paper to you with a smile. “If you ever need any more help with furniture, then call me.” 

 You could feel your cheeks heat up as you took the paper. Your fingers brushed ever so slightly as you took the slip of paper, and you decided to just go for it. You bit back a grin and tried to sound as innocuous as possible. “And if I want to get to know you beyond the blueberries?” 

 Sokka laughed and leaned against the doorframe. “Definitely call me.”  

 “Great.” 

 The two of you smiled at each other like idiots for way too long before a notification from his phone broke the silence. He jumped from the sudden noise and dug his phone out of his pocket, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, my sister just texted me and I gotta get over to her place.” Sokka started towards the door then paused and turned around. “I actually had a lot of fun doing this, though. I’ll see you around, yeah?” 

 “Yeah.” You knew you had that same smile on your face, but it just wouldn’t go away. His energy was contagious. “Definitely.” 

 “Great.” He winked at you one last time then left, closing the door behind him, and finally snapping you out of your spell. 

 You leaned against the dresser and stared at the slip of paper in your hands, committing the number to memory. 

 You were definitely going to take him up on that offer. 

-

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin​

[danniburgh]

Rushingly Bittersweet (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 20

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel’s operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn’t seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +4.3k

Chapter warnings: more feelings, the whole truth, brief mention of drugs, a lot of tears lmao

A/N: This chapter is set after season three, episode nine. // I AM SO FUCKING SORRY in advance, i think this and the next 2 are gonna be heavy for me and you so... yeah, WE ARE ALMOST DONE GUYS KEEP YOUR CHINS UP THIS IS GONNA END WELL!!!!

ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged

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gif: @bestintheparsec​

If Javier hadn’t seen you cry like you were crying in front of him, he would have thought it was a joke.

A bad, sick, horrible joke.

But there you were, shaking and crying and bracing yourself and standing in front of him telling him you knew things he didn’t know and your name wasn’t your name and he wasn’t even your boss as if he not only needed to know he was being used but he deserved it. As if he could avoid to think everything you had told him before wasn’t a complete lie. Bullshit.

He stood up straight and took his eyes off you. He couldn’t bear to look at you shaking like a small puppy trapped in the cold rain, he couldn’t bear to look at you like that because he was fighting with himself and the need to rush and hold you and tell you everything was going to be fine when he knew and you knew and he knew you knew nothing would be the same. As if he wasn’t angry, furious, infuriated.

You let out a sob, because you knew he was about to avoid looking at you at all costs.

“Well,” Javier let out, “I’m sorry if I don’t say it’s nice to meet you,” and then he laughed bitterly, shaking his head, “who the fuck are you?” his face quirked in something you, between tears, could recognize as anger and pain.

“I–” you mumbled, but he cut you off.

“I’m giving you one chance to explain everything to me,” he hardened his voice and you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from crying, he lifted a finger in front you, “just one, take it,”

“Javier,” you whispered, and he shook his head.

“Are you even DEA?” he scoffed and crossed his arms on his chest, “since you knew things I didn’t and your name isn’t your name, are you even an agent?” you only got to nod “so why,” he breathed in before continuing “why are there CIA reports with your signature?” he turned with a scowl on his face and with one hand he skimmed through all the pages on that file, “you kept tabs on me,” he said, purposefully not looking at you “fuck,” he tapped several times on the last one “you did fool me.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” you sighed out, it was really hard for you to breathe.

“What wasn’t supposed to happen?” he chewed out “you telling me? or you with me? or you in my bed? or me fucking you? what?”

“Stop,” you pleaded, not having the energy anymore to chase his eyes “let me explain,”

“No,” he shook his head and flared his nose in anger “you’re not worth listening to, get out,”

“At least let me tell you the truth,” you pleaded again.

“I have it here!” he smacked his hand on the files and you jumped out, startled at the way he raised his voice out of the sudden. 

But you didn’t blame him, you only blamed yourself, but that self-preservation instinct inside of you was forcing you to keep on pushing him to listen to you and your reasons. It was forcing you to keep pushing him, even when you knew he was already at his limit.

“Please, let me explain everything,” you pleaded again. Javier shook his head and fought himself harder to stop from looking at you and reach for you and hold you because you just sounded so broken. But you were breaking him.

“Get out,” he whispered, half a plea and half a demand, you shook your head.

“Read them,” you sniffed and cleared your throat “read the last few reports, please,” you were hating how much you were shaking and he glanced at you for less than a second, and you cried at how short it felt. Javier took you in with that glance and as if it wasn’t enough, his chest tugged at the sight of your puffy eyes and the tears that dampened your cheeks. He indulged and skimmed through them “see how they get shorter? see how they get briefer? how they get–”

“Shittier? he cut you off “so you did a bad job, what about it?”

You bit your lip and breathed in and out twice.

“That was the point!” you let out, “fuck, Javier,” you finally found your voice inside your chest and you went off “I’ve been wanting to tell you everything for the longest fucking time, I just couldn’t, I swear I wanted to tell you ever–”

“Since when,” he cut you off again. You looked at him and tried to get him to look at you but he didn't. 

“There were so many nights where I just wanted to tell you everything, but it just wasn’t safe for either of us! I swear I did planned to te–”

“Since when?” Javier raised his voice again and you sighed.

You closed your eyes for a few seconds, feeling more tears sliding down your cheeks.

Javier allowed himself to glance at you in those few seconds that you closed your yes, and tightened his jaw. How the fuck he had allowed all that shit to happen? He had asked you a question he wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer off, but then you opened your eyes and he painfully unglued his gaze from you.

“Since the first time you kissed me,” you muttered out. Javier shook his head several times and turned around to stop seeing you.

“Get out,” he pointed to the door.

“Javier, please,” your voice broke again and you saw his shoulders raise and drop several times.

“I don’t want to listen to you,” his voice was low and deep and hurt and you bit your lip again to stop your sobs from coming out. You threw your head back and looked at the ceiling, fisting and releasing your hands at the impotence you felt because he just didn’t want to listen to you.

And you knew this would happen, you knew it. How could you’ve been so stupid to think that if you explained everything to Javier, he would just take it as the historical truth and just… forgive you? How could you’ve been such an idiot to believe so little of him?

Since the first time you had seen him you knew he was a man of straights and grays, you knew he hated lies; you knew he hated liars. Hell, he hated himself for being one. But somehow, deep in your chest, in your… heart, you thought, you imagined, you hoped he would make an exception for you.

But he wasn’t, not for you, not for anybody, not even for himself. 

He just wasn’t.

Javier closed his eyes once he had you out of his sight, he had so much in his head, the thoughts were pouring down like the restless stream of an overflowing river cascading to a bottomless drowning lake; so much to think about, so much to say, but nothing was coming out.

He was hurt, he recognized that one emotion. Pure, deep, raw hurt, he could feel it burning his insides and turning his guts into ashes. Fuck. He didn’t like the pain, he had spent years and years of his life running away from the pain. How could he had been so stupid to allow himself to get to that point? How could he had been such a fucking idiot to let you do that to him? How? When he had become an expert at running away from his own emotions? Why?

He brushed a hand through his hair and tried to regain his composure, but it was nearly impossible. The pain inside him started to feel physical, it was as if someone had shot him directly on the chest over his kevlar; the air knocked out of his lungs. He was struggling to breathe properly. He was about to burst.

He felt a foreign sting inside his throat that he knew exactly what meant. He wasn’t about to cry. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of showing you how much he cared.

Even if you already knew.

“Javier,” you called him.

“Get out,”

“I will, I promise I’ll go,” you sobbed out and Javier felt disgusted by himself for being so weak at the sound of your sobs, he rolled his hands into fists and forced his body to stay put in place “I just want you to understand why I did it.” Javier rolled his eyes and raised a hand to press his eyes shut.

“Get the fuck out, please just get out,” his voice sounded like a plea and a beg and a demand altogether and you snapped at the way he was just trying to escape from an explanation that you were more than willing to give him. An explanation he deserved.

“No!” you raised your own voice, “you dragged me into this! now you have to listen to me!” you accused. Javier turned around, his face quirked in confusion and bewilderment and pain and anger.

“Me?” he raised his voice as well, his finger landing on his chest several times “I dragged you into this? you’re not a child! you made a choice!” he let out, shaking his head.

“I tried to grab onto any excuse to not start this, Javier, you know that!” you reminded him, and he let his hands rest on his waist “Javier, it was never my intention to hurt you.” 

Javier barked out a laugh.

A stinging, humourless, deep hurting laugh that landed inside the crevices of your chest and hung from every nerve of your being. 

“Well, I’m hurt,” he said, finally facing you “you lied to me,” his face was a mess of emotions you couldn’t read “you lied to me on my fucking face.” he gritted out, walking towards you.

“I know, and I’m sorry” you said under your breath, his face was inches away from yours and he frowned and shook his head. You closed your eyes because out of the sudden his cologne invaded your nostrils and you cried harder at the thought of never getting to smell him again.

“And you know what’s even worse?” he rhetored, you opened your eyes and quickly his eyes were on yours, but that time, his brown, soft eyes were hardened, as if fossils had taken over his orbs and his face was a mean scowl and his hands were so far away from your body rolled into fists that it ached deep in your chest how much you were hurting him, “that I fell for it, for all of it, and I fell for you.”

Javier didn’t seem to realize what he had said, but you did and as he put distance between him and you, your eyes filled with thick tears once again, and you didn’t try to stop them from falling and falling and falling.

He fell. He fell for you.

How? How could you let everything go to that point? You knew you knew it, you fool.

Crash, crash, crash, crash.

Ugly, messy, bloody, heart wrenching.

“Was it worth it?” he asked, putting his hands on his waist once again, looking at you, expectant. You shook your head. “then why did you do it?”

His eyes on you were heavy, you remembered that time he looked at you in a crowded elevator and made you forget everything about yourself, and that time you wondered if he was ever going to look at you like that. And there, with him expecting the explanation you were offering, you had your answer.

And you saw him, standing before you, hands on hips, his thinking stance, waiting for you to finally deliver the so-called explanation you wanted and pleaded to give him. But your throat was closed, your voice was nowhere to be found, and you wanted to crawl into a ball and just rock yourself to a deep, all-forgetting sleep.

God, you were so tired.

It took you an entire minute to find your voice from the deep confines of your voided, pained chest.

“Re–remember what I told you the first time we mad–the first time we were… together?” you sobbed out. He closed his eyes and nodded.

How he could fucking forget? It had elated him, that entire fucking day, everything seemed so hopeful, he remembered thinking that he didn’t want to do what he did to you with anyone else. Before you could continue, he allowed himself to grieve that moment and you saw him raise a hand to his chest.

“That was true, most of it,” you assured him. Javier didn’t look at you once he opened his eyes and you, yet again, tried to search for his eyes. Fuck the hour you had let them become your comfort. “after what happened in México, I did get suspended and, fuck,” you brushed away your tears, freeing the way for new ones to fall “I really liked this job,” you chuckled sorely to yourself “but the drugs, and… everything else, I just knew I was screwed,” you sniffed. Javier bit the inside of his cheek and sighed.

Yet another fucking thing you two were more than alike.

He was hating it, loathing it; the way he wanted to brush every single goddamned tear that was falling down your face, the way he just wanted to reach to you, to let you feel him, the way he fucking needed to touch you and then wake up for whatever new fucking nightmare he was having.

“I was marked,” you choked down another sob and sniffed again, you hated being this vulnerable, this exposed, you were dropping your mask and the process of peeling it was so wretchedly painful. You hated that your vision was so flooded with tears you weren’t able to read Javier and just get a glance, a tiny peak at what he was feeling, “marked not only for being a woman, but by every single shitty thing I did up there,” he sighed “so, the CIA approached me, and took advantage of my situation.”

Javier wanted to scream, wanted to punch something, break anything, he wanted so much to stop relating to you and your reasons. It was as if he was looking at himself in the mirror and he didn’t like it. It was as if some all mighty God had already realized what he had done in the past and just started to punish him. And he was so angry that you were that punishment, that you, of all things, of everything he thought good, were the one chosen to deliver his punishment. 

You, oh so perfect you, so beautiful, so smart, so good, so strong you. You were the one chosen to break him. He wanted to stop seeing the undeniable parallel between you and him being forced to do things by the pure nature of your jobs, by leverage and advantage and just be angry, he just wanted to feel his anger and allow himself to hate you, but he just couldn’t. Not when you were there, standing in front of him, bawling out everything for him, undressing yourself to him, yet again, passing him the control of things. Ironic. He thought, he always had the impression he already had it.

“A precarious situation,” you explained, wetting your lips and taking a deep breath “they assured my job back if I took a six-month assignment for them, they wanted me to ke–”

“Keep an eye on me,” Javier cut you, looking at you with hardened, glistening eyes. You had to drop your gaze to the floor. What the fuck were you doing to him?

Fool, you fool, you stupid, horrible fool. Don’t you see you’re hurting him? Just leave him alone!

“Yeah,” you sighed out, sniffing again, seeing how your tears dropped straight to the floor, “and report all your movements back to them to… shit.”

“To what?”

You shook your head, not being able to lift your gaze from the floor, Javier looked at you and studied what he thought he knew about you. Which at that point he thought it was nothing but your actual name and the way your body quirked and spasmed under his touch. But maybe that was fake too. He saw the way you were hunched under yourself and an amazing yet brief moment of clarity struck him and he knew what you were going to say, fuck he knew, and he let himself smile at the expectation of your answer. For once having a little bit of a leverage.

“To avoid another Los Pepes scenario.” you whispered.

He laughed bitterly. And your chest shrunk at the sound.

Of fucking course.

That’s how you knew, that why you asked him about that the same fucking day you had told him about why you were in Colombia, the day you lied to him, to his face, on his bed, in his arms, after he had let you fuck him, after he had devoured you for the first time

Fucking shit, how he wanted to scream.

His smile became a snarl as soon as the memory of your body pressed against his came back to his head.

“Fuck me,” he shook his head and tightened his jaw.

“I didn’t understand at first why they looked at you like such a menace,” you said, not daring to look at him, and Javier hated it, he hated how you had hung your head low and looked at the carpeted floor, he hated it because he had seen you in your most confident self so many times, he had engraved in his mind the way you would handle yourself as if you were the owner of every building you ever stepped on, but then? right there? you just looked like a selfless child, like a hurt, abandoned girl. Fuck him. How could he keep thinking about you like that when while you looked like it you were destroying everything he had ever thought of you and whatever the fuck it was you two had? “then I met you.”

“So I’m a menace?” he snarked.

“For people like them? of course you are, Javier,” you let out a sigh and shook your head “they painted you as this… monster, that didn’t care about anything but getting shit done in any way you could,” you shrugged and lifted your head to look at him “but you do care, you care a lot.”

He didn’t say anything at the last statement you blurted out.

A thick, foggy silence fell upon you, you could feel it prickling around your face, eating your tears, you were sure that if you pulled out your tongue you could taste it, you could feel it, sneaking inside your ears and screaming at you. You never thought a silence could be so loud. But it was, a deafening silence.

Javier turned and walked to the desk, sitting on the edge and skimming through the other files that you had handed him, some of them were just more information about the corrupt politicians and some more about the cartel in itself. He didn’t say a word about the obvious and illicit origin of the files and for that you were grateful.

“I really thought,” your voice broke the silence again, and he seemed to ignore you “I thought I was doing good,” you closed your eyes, he wasn’t looking at you, yet again, “and then I got to see how things really were down here and… I knew instantly everything was just bullshit, just a fucking game,” Javier kept looking at the files and reading them and you wanted to beg him to look at you, you wanted to rush at him and grab his face and make him look at you in the eyes and tell you something, anything, to yell at you, to scream at you, because at the way his silence felt you were sure his screams would hurt less, “they played you, and they played me, and… I’m sorry.” 

“Why a DEA agent?” he questioned, closing the file he had just finished reading his hand resting on his thigh and the other on his hip, you frowned “why did they send down someone from the DEA instead of one of their own spies?”

You bit your lip, looking at the way his eyes were empty, void of any display of emotion, looking at the way he turned his face sterner, just as it was the first day you’d met him.

“Uh–because it was cheaper, to just create some sub-identity and I already knew the protocols.” you explained slowly, more for it to sink in to you than to him.

Javier hummed and returned his eyes to the next file, the one with your file. The real one.

You stood there while he read it. Trying to figure out what was going through his head, but as you were so emotionally spent you really couldn’t for the life of you read him anymore.

Javier felt his breath hitch as he read your real name, where you went to school, the fact that you had a master and the amount of time you had spent in México.

And then he chuckled. Under the name of your DEA adjacent’s name and your assigned partner there was your callsign: Flor.

He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and pointer and took a deep breath.

“What about your partner?” he cleared his throat “the one that sent you all that intel.”

Your chest dropped again and you felt your eyes fill with tears. Pure guilt and sadness.

“No one in México knew I got suspended, they just thought I got transferred, y’know?” you brushed the few tears that escaped your eyes “so I really did ask them for help, to give us anything on the narcos as we were aware of the connection,” Javier then saw you cover your mouth and sob “I fucking got Marcos fired.” your voice was muffled by your mouth and Javier had to, once again, fight the urge to grab you and pull you flush against his chest and comfort you.

“What else did you lie about?” he asked, not waiting for your sobs to die down, you shook your head.

“No–nothing, I sw–swear,” you sobbed out.

“Okay,” Javier stood from the desk and walked towards you. And for a second, a brief second, you allowed yourself to imagine that he wasn’t going to ask you what he did, and instead, he would brush your tears away, hold you or tell you that he forgave you. What a stupid little thought. “I think we’re done here.”

“Javi,” you called him and he flinched at how high pitched your voice became from the sobbing, he wasn’t looking at you, not really. His eyes were looking past you, “can you look at me?” you begged.

Fuck the hour you had let his eyes become your comfort.

“Get out,” he said, serious faced, lookin at nothing and everything but you.

“Jus–just, look at me? please?”

Javier closed his eyes, bit his lip and shook his head.

And pointed at the door.

“Right,” you tried to control the incoming sobs that were inundating your chest and throat and stood up straight, lining your shoulders and closing your eyes at how hard it was to leave, it was as if you had him glued to you and then you had to peel him off you, you looked at him one last time before turning around and walking towards the door, grabbing your bag in the way.

You didn’t even reach the door to the hallway when you exploded; you had to cover your mouth as you turned away from the entrance and propped yourself on the wall.

You felt like your heart might have actually stopped and you could only imagine how Javier felt.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you mumbled out, as if he had been still in front of you, as if he could listen.

You had to force yourself to walk into the open elevator and press the lobby button, because you knew that if you didn’t, you would’ve run back to his office and begged Javier to hold you, beg him to forgive you, even when you knew you didn’t deserve it.

Javier saw you walk out and watched your figure shrink at the office door, he had to close his eyes to stop from seeing the way you broke after everything you had told him. He had to turn around and grip the edge of the desk to physically stop himself from running to you, anchor himself to you and tell you he needed you.

Fuck the hour he had let your body become his comfort.

Once he was sure you weren’t there anymore, he opened his eyes, the files you had handed him were in front of him, one last file left to open.

Reluctantly, he took it and opened it.

“Shit,” he whispered. Feeling his breath hitch and his heart stop beating for half a second.

It was your resignation letter.

Just then, and only then, Javier let himself drown in his pain.

“Shit,” he spat through gritted teeth.

God how he wanted to hate you, he really wanted to hate you. But he couldn’t bring himself to turn all the love he had for you into hate. He couldn’t even when he really wanted to.

The guard at the front door didn’t even glance at you when you walked through the embassy doors, and for that you were grateful. When you realized you had driven with Javier to work, you had to cover your mouth again to muffle another sob.

You weren’t even outside the building yet and you were already missing him like crazy.

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Home | Angel Reyes.

Angel Reyes x Reader

GIF CREDIT: @thedevilsmoonshine

Summary:  Angel has come back from his run feeling extra needy & lost puppy-like. 

Requested: No.

Warnings: None, just that cute, fluffy shet. 

Word Count: 1.4K; Sorry for the weird format, it was easier to write in bullet points, so it’s like a lengthy headcanon thing, kinda? But not? IDK LMAO.

A/N: Would you look at that? She’s back-ish. Finding the time to write has been a real struggle lately, but I’m trying my best to get into it again, sOoOo this is what I came up with (please go easy on me, ah). I love y’all, aaand I hope you enjoy reading - mwah! <3

Being away from Angel was always a struggle.

The only entities to keep you company were your irrational thoughts and constant worries. 

To help ease your mind, you would wipe the bar down and absentmindedly clean away while you waited for the men to come back from their run. 

Soon enough, there he was in all of his gentle giant glory and your world was complete once again. 

Angel stumbled in through the clubhouse door with his head hanging low.

He carried the weight of the world on a slouched back and heavy feet that dragged across the wooden floorboard. 

As if things weren’t bad enough already, he tripped over the threshold.The soft giggle that came from you was not appreciated.

You shook your head and continued to wipe the insides of glasses, biting your lip as you stifled the rest of your laugh. 

Angel’s jaw slacked as he scoffed, throwing you the funniest little nod and a tilt of his head. 

“You got something to say, huh?” Angel prodded with an exaggerated display of machismo, his lips pursing into an unamused expression. “You think that’s funny?”

You inhaled deeply as his towering figure invaded your personal space.The intoxicating aroma of Angel’s cologne, cigarettes and motor oil diffused within the close proximity.

His leather-clad palms slammed onto the tabletop, his face hanging inches above yours from where he stood on the other side of it.

You playfully rolled your eyes while your fingers lightly trailed up and down his tattooed arms. 

Angel gave you a small, sad smile after he felt you visibly relax in his presence, and your heart warmed. 

Tilting your head upwards, you studied his hardened features. As beautiful as they were, his eyes told you everything you needed to know. They were dark, lackluster. 

You helped him slip his gloves off, and he tucked them into the pockets of his kutte. 

Angel sighed loudly as he slowly dropped his forehead to meet yours before cupping your face in his rough hands. 

He placed the lightest kiss on your nose, and whispered,  “I missed you, querida.”

Angel’s thumb skimmed the top of your cheek, back and forth … back and forth, almost as if he was being reacquainted with the feel of you, the natural warmth you emanated. 

Angel was sweaty, his beard was rugged, his voice was gruff, there were patches of blood, soot and dirt on his skin.

And yet, you held onto his wrist, closed your eyes, and let yourself fall into his love, into the arms of an angel that kept himself alive to make it back home to you. 

Angel’s eyes were no longer on yours, but instead focused entirely on the way his fingers glided across your delicate features, and how yours lovingly danced across the back of his hand. 

Taking a hold of your chin, he gently pulled your face closer to capture your lips with his.

His velvet tongue traced the seam of your mouth, coaxing you to let him in, and he groaned lowly when you did. 

Angel’s large, calloused hands clasped around the back of your neck to deepen the kiss.

Without caring for the others around, he moaned against you. He drank up and savored your tenderness, your sweet taste. 

He was so lost in you, your heavenly touch and the yearning you reciprocated.

“Oh, baby … fuck. I really fuckin’—” Angel’s eyes fluttered closed, his head tipping backwards as he gulped. “I really needed that” he choked out breathlessly.

Even after pulling away, his outstretched arms held you, which made him realize that there was still a barrier in between. 

“Stupid ass bar won’t even let me make out with you,” he grumbled with a pout. “Stupid ass design too, and stupid ass wood, and … and dumb fuckin’ … fuckin’ architectural, interior design shit, and wh—”

“Angel! Calm down, just walk around it, baby.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his frustration. You knew he was moody right now, but mans was really about to fight the bar for you.  

He sucked his teeth and furrowed his brows, even flipped his middle finger at it. 

After his temper tantrum, he hopped onto the countertop before swinging his long legs over and landing in front of you. 

“There we go,” he wrapped himself around you, engulfing your body into his strong frame. 

A boyish grin took over his face as he immediately became less tense.

He rested the side of his face on the top of your head while hugging you tight. 

“That was a little dramatic, Angel,” you whispered. He could hear the humor in your tone. 

Angel humphed, “So fuckin’ what?” 

“Baby, I need you to take the attitude down a good couple of notches, yeah?”

“Sorry, mama,” he kissed your hair. “Just got a lot on my mind.”

You rubbed his back soothingly, still caught in the embrace he didn’t want to part away from. 

Every time he felt you wriggle, even slightly, his grip on you got tighter and he would annoyedly murmur in your hair.

“I know, my love. That’s okay. Look, I just have to clean a few more glasses and I’ll be all yours. Wait for me on the couch?” 

Finally releasing you, he nodded. 

You turned around to finish up the chores, but with every step you took, the sound of boots stomping followed right behind you.Turning around, you smirked and cocked an eyebrow at a puppy-eyed Angel.

“Angel … do you need something before you head over there?”

“Mm, nope,” Angel shook his head cluelessly. You paused, squinting your eyes at him.

The look on his tired face was so innocent. His fingers toyed with the waistband of your jeans, simply for the sake of being attached to you, desperate to be close to your body after the run he had. God, he missed you, and he needed you badly. 

You kissed his cheek before going about your business once more, only to have Angel shadowing you from behind. Except now, he was significantly closer - his crotch on your lower back type of close. 

Angel was breathing down your neck and left barely any room for you to move. 

You took a step to the right? Angel took a step to the right.

You stepped back? Angel gripped your hips, wrapped an arm around your waist and shifted you in the direction you wanted to go in. 

Angel’s head dipped down to rest on your shoulder while his hands wandered up and down your sides, or lingered on your belly, or squeezed your thighs. 

He did not want to leave you alone; all he wanted was to be with you and bask in your presence. 

“Angel, babe,” you sighed. “I promise you’ll have me soon, you just gotta let me finish first.”

He nibbled on your ears, his lips brushed the skin of your neck, and then he started sucking there. He enchanted your skin with open-mouthed licking and smooching.  

“Okay, mi dulce,” Angel pressed his cheek against yours, his smushed face rubbing all up on you, and his beard lightly scratching you. “I understand completely.”

“Great, love to hear it. Now, when do you plan on sitting down?” You laughed. 

“Oh, we can sit down if you want,” Angel took your hand in his as the cheekiest smile flourished onto his lips. 

At this point, you realized that finishing up was just not going to happen. Everything you told him went in one ear and out the other. 

As he grabbed onto your ass, you held his face in your palms, “Angel.”

“Heeey,” he winked, flashing a lopsided grin. 

“You’re my everything, you know that?”

He hummed and looked down, not knowing how to react. “You’re mine,” he mumbled. 

You lead him over to the couches in the corner. He pulled you onto his lap, and you snaked your arms around his neck. 

You both settled into each other’s comfort. And for Angel, that also meant stuffing his face into your chest. 

He left kisses all over your tits, his hands groped the swell of your breasts. 

Your fingers slowly ran through his hair, manicured nails moving along his scalp

“Home sweet home,” he let out a muffled groan.

The rest of the night was spent cuddling Angel’s needy self while he praised you, rambled and vented, or napped on your titties.

__________________________________________

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[lilacyennefer]

It is You, it is Me, it is Us

Anon asked:  Hi! Can I request “ Person A: “....You have far too much faith in me.” Person B: “And you have far too little.” with Angel Reyes? Thank you! 

A/N: Hi there! This is my first time writing for Angel so I'm a little nervous, but I got this request and loved it so much I quickly had to wrtie this at work today lmao. Anyway, I don't have an Angel Reyes tag list yet so if you want to be on it please comment or send an ask. I hope you guys like this :) Have a nice weekend!

WARNING: mention of vomiting, a little angst, lot of fluff, that’s all I guess

Angel always could count on you, he knew that. 

He always tried to keep you away from the club business, never really wanted to talk about it to you, he wanted to spare you, and he was afraid he’d get you into danger if you knew everything. 

But there was one point, a breaking point to Angel when he realised he only can count on you. 

EZ’s betrayal, and that Felipe took his little brother’s side, completely broke Angel. 

You were clueless when he came home, you had your own little secret that you kept from him, didn’t know how to tell him yet.

A baby. 

You figured it out two weeks ago that you were pregnant, and you were scared how Angel would react to this, so you didn’t tell him yet. 

You wanted to tell him that night when he came home, broken and angry, and hurt. 

Your heart broke when you saw how defeated he was, and again, you couldn’t make yourself to tell him, since you tried to pour some life back into him.

That night he told you everything that he was keeping from you, breaking down and needing someone to be there for him, telling him he wasn’t alone. 

You grabbed his hand, and your heart clenched when Angel looked at you with his teary eyes. 

You swallowed hard before you said anything.

“I’m here for you Angel, and with you.” You squeezed his hand “You can always count on me, no matter what. We are a family, and I’m always here. No matter what!” 

You take his face in your hands as you continue “I know you’re hurt right now, and you have every right to be. And you have to let yourself to feel this hurt, the anger. This house, and me, is your safe place, okay? You don’t have to hide any of your emotions, afraid that I’ll judge you for it. You know I would never. It’s okay to feel pain, to feel hurt, and ask someone to help you with it.” You gently wipe a tear off his cheek with your thumb “This is our safe place. You’re safe with me.” A small smile tugs the corner of your lips from your next sentence “And I’ll be damned if I’ll let anyone hurt you, ever. I’m gonna protect you, no matter what. I don’t care that you’re a giant compared to me,” Angel chuckles “I’m still going to protect you.

“That’s supposed to be my job.” Angel tells you.

You nod “You do the physical protecting, and I do the emotional. As a team.” 

Angel looks at you for a very long moment, his eyes are skimming over your face. 

“You mean everything to me, I hope you know that.” He whispers as he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you, holding you as close as possible. 

“Please never forget that.” You mutter against his chest, your secret is making your chest heavy.

A little bit over a week has passed some that night, and you still haven’t told Angel that you’re pregnant. 

One morning, you were laying in bed with him, he was still asleep, his head was resting on your chest, mouth open and slightly drooling on you, his tattooed arm was thrown around your belly, legs tangled together. 

Softly, careful not to wake him, you were running your fingers through his hair, when a sudden nausea hit you, and you could feel that you have to be in the bathroom in seconds.

“Oh god.” You whisper before you push Angel off of you, waking him, then you rush to the bathroom before you throw up. 

When Angel realised something was wrong, he rushed to the bathroom after you, squatting down next to you as he rubbed your back while you emptied your stomach into the toilet. 

“You shouldn’t see this.” You mutter.

“You saw me in worse states after parties.” Angel chuckled.

“Yeah, I’m afraid this isn't a hangover.”  

“Then what? Food poisoning? It seemed like you enjoyed the food last night.” 

“Angel, please can you get me a glass of water.” Is all you say.

“Shit, yeah!” He quickly gets up from the floor and goes to the kitchen to get you a glass of cold water. 

You gratefully take the glass from him and take a few sips in silence. 

You drank most of the water slowly, Angel was by your side the whole time, rubbing your back softly. 

“I’m gonna brush my teeth.” You mutter, and Angel leaves you alone while you get yourself together.

There’s no way of avoiding this anymore. 

After a quick shower, and brushing your teeth, you slightly felt better, until you stepped out of the bathroom and the strong smell of coffee hit your nose, and you can’t help but make a disgusted face. 

“What is this smell?” You ask Angel as you walk into the kitchen.

“Coffee.” He says simply.

“What? You love coffee, especially the smell of it.” He states when he sees your disgusted expression.

You take a deep breath. It’s now or never. 

“Angel, I have to tell you something.” You say nervously. 

Angel, seeing your serious expression, furrows his brows as he walks closer to you.

“What’s wrong, mi dulce?” He places his big hand on the side of your face, his palm covers the most of your cheek. 

You take another deep breath, then close your eyes before you whisper “I’m pregnant.” 

You don’t open your eyes as you wait for Angel’s reaction, but your eyes snap open when you hear laughing. 

“Yeah, that’s really funny Y/N.” 

You keep looking at him, as serious as you can to prove that you’re not joking.

Does he really think that you’re joking?

Angel is still smiling and shaking his head, but when he looks at you again, his smile fades.

“Wait, are you serious?” 

“Do you really think I would joke with something like this?” You snap “This has been killing me in the past few weeks! I’m constantly terrified of your reaction, that you’ll leave me, and you think I’m joking?!” 

Angel opens his mouth to say something, but he stops when he sees tears rolling down your cheeks.

“I wanted to tell you that night you came home and told me about EZ’s betrayal. I couldn’t make myself to do it, I was afraid it would break you even more.” You cry. “I’m so terrified, Angel, ever since I know it. We never talked about this, I have no idea what’s your opinion about this, I’m afraid you’ll think that I’m baby trapping you.” You sob “I’m confused, afraid, and all alone in this.” 

“You’re not alone!” Angel says firmly “Shit, I certainly wasn’t expecting this. I never imagined myself as a family type, as a father, but fuck, I also never imagined myself being so fucking in love with a woman, but here we are.” Angel takes your face in his hands. “Did we plan this? No. Am I terrified? Absolutely. But in no way, I’ll leave you, or force you into something that you don’t want.” The whole time your eyes are fixed on Angel’s chest, not meeting his eyes as you cry.

“Look at me, my love, please.” Angel asks you softly.

You look up at him.

“We are in no way ready for this, but the fact that we will have a mini us, the perfect mix of both of us, running around here in a few months makes me excited.” Angel smiles, and you can’t help but smile too.

“And if you’ll stay with me, I can promise you that I’ll keep knocking you up.” He winks, and you can’t help, but snort at his words. 

“Let’s wait and see how we can handle one baby, at first.” 

You’re six months pregnant now. 

Things were going easier than you thought they’ll go, and You and Angel were incredibly happy about your baby.

But you couldn’t ignore the fact that something was bothering Angel, you didn’t ask what is it, you’re almost sure that it’s club business, and if he wants to tell you, he will.

But you couldn’t ignore the mean thoughts in your brain, saying that he’s distant because he hates the sight of you, he hates the fact that you’re getting bigger and bigger, and he can’t look at you anymore, and he’s probably with one of Vicky’s girls. 

These thoughts made you break down in painful sobs. 

One night, you’re laying in bed, on your back, watching something on tv when Angel comes home. 

You hear him take his Kutte off, his shoes, as he slowly walks towards the bedroom that you share.

“You should be sleeping.” He says when he sees you being awake.

“I’m not sleepy. Hormones you know.” 

“I’m gonna take a shower quickly.” Angel says before he disappears in the bathroom.

You turn off the tv while you wait for him.

After like 5 minutes, Angel comes out of the bathroom, wearing only a loose black boxer that he loves to sleep in. 

He lays down next to you, turning towards you, drinking in the sight of you. 

Placing a hand on your round belly he whispers “You’re so beautiful.” 

It’s your turn now to turn your head towards him so you can look at him.

“And here I thought you hated the sight of me.” You whisper, voice so small you’re not sure that Angel heard you. 

But he did.

His head snapped up with a confused, and somehow offended expression.

“Why the fuck you’d say that?” 

“I can see that something is wrong. And I’m getting bigger, and bigger…”

“Stop right there!” Angel says forcefully. “You really think that’s the reason?”

You don’t reply.

Angel licks his lips, he’s no longer looking you in the eyes, but it’s fixed on your round belly. 

“I’m afraid I’ll fuck it up.” He confesses “I’m afraid that I’ll be a horrible father, and our child will hate me. All I can think about is that I will fuck it up.” 

“Angel.” You whisper “You won’t fuck this up. Not as long as I’m here and we do this together.”

“You can’t know that.” He shakes his head.

“Yes, I can. Because I know you Angel Reyes. You might fuck things up, but who doesn’t?!? Everyone makes mistakes, but the only thing important is that we learn from them. And you do, my love. You’re going to be the most amazing father. And you know why?” 

Angel shakes his head.

“Because you have a big heart. And when you love someone, you give everything you have to them, you love them more than anything, and you would do anything for them. I know it’s true, because I feel it everyday.” 

“You have far too much faith in me” Angel whispers.

“And you have far too little.” You reply “You have to start believing in yourself, mi Angelito.” 

“You’re going to be an amazing father, and this little one is lucky to have you as their dad.” 

Angel moves closer to you, placing a hand on your belly as he kisses you lovingly. 

“Thank you. For everything.” Angel whispers against your lips.

“Always, my Angel. Always. 

[lynkolnevans]

My g we're mutuals and I love that for us but pls tell me what this groovy sans skeleton is he's all over my dash and I support u but I have no fucking clue what he is

Sorry about that lmao. I got dragged backed into undertale and went a little crazy with Fresh!Sans. Fresh is an Undertale AU character created by @loverofpiggies - which was initially inspired by “Dippy Fresh” from Gravity Falls, but now they’ve officially become a separate character for loverofpiggies’ upcoming webcomic.

I’m probably not gonna go on another reblog spree again any time soon with Fresh, but if you want me to tag it let me know.

Some info relating to Fresh!Sans (as they relate to the Undertale fandom) under the cut.

Feel free to skip or skim the text below, I just had a lot to say about one of my favorite characters.

At first glance, Fresh!Sans is just another Alternate Universe Sans, albeit a complete opposite to the more numerous “edgy” and “angsty” AUs/headcanons that were popular when the Undertale Fandom was in the spotlight. Basically their whole deal is a “radical” skeleton that talks and dresses like they were imbued with condensed 90′s pop culture essence. “Radical”, “Broski”, and other 90s - 2000s slang is a staple of Fresh’s character, as well as eye-searing clothing and rainbow powers.

They hate swearing or any kind of bad things, like drugs or alcohol. I’ve heard many people say that they are like a walking PSA, the kind with bad acting that you were forced to watch in school. One of Fresh’s powers is that whenever they are around, people’s swearing is censored. For example, “What the fuck!” would become “What the funk!”, usually with the swearer pissed they got censored.

Now onto the cool part. Fresh isn’t actually a Sans in the conventional sense. They’re a souless (literally) parasite that takes over a host and uses the soul as food, while completely overriding the host’s control of their body. Fresh has to keep swapping hosts as they will die without one, yet possessing someone can damage the host’s soul. There are some cool fanfics that explore this dilema.

They also are unable to feel any emotions. Yep, that’s right. Literally, the coolest dude ever is a soul-eating parasite without feelings. The only feelings they are physically capable of is fear and (i think) pain. Essentially, they are an eldritch horror who is mortal and absolutely terrified of dying, but can also do a sick kick-flip and teleport between universes. This leads to a lot of hijinks, especially in fan comics/art/fiction.

I’m sure I’ve missed a ton, but I wasn’t planning on writing an essay about Fresh lol. A lot of his character is centered around the whole Undertale AU Multiverse/Outcode characters, and explaining that is in an of itself multiple essays. There also isn’t a lot of concrete canon from Fresh’s creator. Just the basic: Fresh is a parasite that feeds on souls, cannot feel emotions except fear, and is OP af.

TLDR : Fresh is a parasitic entity possessing a Sans to feed on his soul. A lot of his character is based around 90′s pop culture, being “PC”, and teleporting around AUs/the Undertale Multiverse as the most chaotic being ever. Just a cool lil dude.

[avengers-age-of-fanfics]

just for you, honeybee (2/?)

pairing: bucky barnes x reader, steve rogers x reader (platonic)

word count: 2,107

authors note: second part of this ongoing series! i still don't know how many parts this is going to be but i seriously want to finish this lmao. hopefully this will be a series i actually complete! please leave feedback - i truly appreciate it!

warnings: mention of bucky's death, uncontrollable sobbing, character death, a few curse words

summary: dating back to 1943, you, james barnes, and steve rogers were best friends, including bucky being your boyfriend. when you get a notice that bucky died in the war, you make it your mission to find closure for yourself and protect steve as he is the only remaining piece of bucky you have left. once you are offered the super soldier serum, you and steve must make your way through world war 2 - and the unknown future hardships to come.

recap: Steve seemed shocked that you were able to read him like that, but was defeated. With a sigh, he turned and reached into his handbag, pulling out a file, “there was this Doctor there, Doctor Erskine, who uh – he approved me for the army, y/n. But it’s for an experiment, something they call a super-soldier experiment, I’m not sure. I’m going – I leave in a couple days.”

How is your world falling apart this quickly?

Sending Steve off was honestly just as painful as it was when Bucky was shipped off. You didn’t want to guilt-trip Steve into staying – you knew how important it was to him to join the army and do something. However, now you were completely alone. You knew you had Becca and you could always write to Bucky and Steve, but it just wasn’t the same.

Both of your boys were gone.

Once Steve had told you about this super-soldier serum experiment, you chewed his ear off for a good 10 minutes. It was brutal, to say the least, and while pacing in your small living room, Steve sat in his seat, hands folded as he waited for you to finish.

This was his final chance to get into the army and while he hated the idea of leaving you, he needed to do something, not only with his life, but with the army. He needed to prove himself. He knew you could take care of yourself – you were independent and a firecracker – there was nothing you couldn’t do. However, while slowly trying to convince himself that you would be okay, Steve was also having a midlife crisis of his own friendship with Bucky. If he found out he left you alone while the both of them were at war, Steve knew Bucky’s reaction wasn’t going to be great.

Once you were done tearing Steve a new one, telling him that you supported him all the way, but you honestly wished he would stay – and possibly called him a dipshit in between all of that – you calmed down. With a quiet voice, you looked to Steve, “can I at least send you off?”

Steve felt his cheeks grow warm and let a smile slip onto his lips, “I would be honored if my biggest fan were there.”

You shoved his shoulder lightly, “shut it, you fat-head. C’mon, we gotta get you all dolled up.”

While it was just as painful to see Steve go, you knew he’d be in good hands and wouldn’t do anything too stupid. You had told him sternly, “I want the name of your commanding officer, his commanding officer, and any fat-headed buffoons that are in charge at your camp, okay?”

Steve had shaken his head, “yes mom, whatever you say.” His eyes rolled but he had a smile on his face, “just so you can keep an eye on me?”

You hummed, “that, and to know whose ass I hav’ta kick if anything happens to you, Stevie. And if you see Bucky, you tell him I love him, you hear?”

Steve saluted before he headed towards the platform, “love ya, y/n!”

You had a small smile on your life, “love you too, Rogers. Kill some Nazis for me.”

That interaction was nearly 6 months ago, and every day felt like a new hill you had to climb over. You sent postcards to both Steve and Bucky in hopes that they would respond every time you sent one, but that wasn’t the case. You weren’t mad, nor upset, just lonely. Steve had let you know that the serum worked and he had been reunited with Bucky after taking over a HYDRA base where you learned Buck was captured. God, that letter caused you so much turmoil and anxiety, but Steve had calmed your fears, letting you know that Bucky was okay. You had also recognized his handwriting at the end, “can’t get rid of me that easily, honeybee. I love you.”

You hadn’t heard from them in a couple weeks, and your anxiety was beginning to show. Nothing new had happened, so you truly had no reason to write to them, but you did anyway, just updating them both on your life and how much you missed them. You had seen Captain America’s tours and his posters all over Brooklyn, and you were so proud of your Steve.

But it was weird seeing him so tall and…built.

Tearing your eyes away from another Captain America poster with his boys behind him, you continued your journey to some local shops, stocking up on groceries and possibly a new pair of shoes. Brooklyn was quiet today, which was certainly odd; there was nothing ominous about it, but it was not something anyone there was used to.

Hands skimming through some plums, you picked one that you knew Bucky would love. With a soft smile, you put the fruit in your basket, continuing through the store until you heard quiet whispers:

“Are you sure he’s here? The Captain America?”

“Mary, I told you, I saw him clear as day; no clue where the man was headin’, but he’s here.”

“Is there a tour or somethin’ here in Brooklyn?”

“Mary…I ain’t no mind reader, he could be stoppin’ by before he goes back off to war.”

Your heart nearly exploded out of your chest. Steve was here, back in Brooklyn? Wait – if Steve was here, then Bucky could be, too!

Quickly dropping the items you had in your hands, you ran out of the grocery store as fast as your heels would let you, passing by Grover in such a rush, he couldn’t even say hello. Crossing the street in a hurry, you grabbed your purse tightly and ran up your apartment fire escape stairs. Once you reached your floor, you grabbed your key and opened the door, being met with your Steve Grant Rogers and a very beautiful woman dressed in an army’s uniform.

“I – holy shit, Steve – oh my god,” you stumbled, out of breath as Steve stood up, towering over you, “I thought you were smaller.”

Steve stepped forward, hands out in case you fell or needed a hug, “side effect of that serum I told you about, remember?” The woman behind him gave Steve a look at the mention.

You caught your breath, “give me a hug, you doofus! Oh my gosh, those letters do you no good – nor do the posters!”

The two of you embraced as Steve held you in his arms, careful of his trembling hands, “’used my spare key, hope you don’t mind.”

You ran your hands over his back and his hair, “I get to see my best friend again, I don’t care how you got in here. Now, where’s Jamie, I – I need’ta see him.”

Steve pulled away and laid his hands on your shoulders, “actually, I wanted you to meet someone before… this is uh, Peggy Carter, she’s an agent of that Strategic Scientific Reserve for the serum and one of the best. Peg, this is y/n, the one who wrote to me and…Bucky, all the time.”

Peggy stood up, hand outstretched towards you as you shook hers, “nice to finally meet you, y/n. Steve here talked lots about you.”

You didn’t fail to notice her solemn look and the file of papers tucked underneath her other arm, “it’s, um, nice to meet you too, Agent Carter.”

The three of you stood in silence as Steve guided you to the remaining chair in the living room. With a bite to your lip, you turned towards Peggy, “I hate to be so forward, Agent, but I’ve seen those files before. I know what – what they mean.”

“Y/N,“ Steve began, “please let her –“

You cut Steve off, “Stevie…where is James?” Your eyes immediately started to fill with tears but you held them back for the sake of your own.

Peggy cleared her throat, “Miss L/N, there was a mission that included James Buchanan Barnes and during that mission, a part of the train that the soldiers were riding on exploded. Amongst the fight, we believe Barnes –“

Steve stopped her, “Peg, she – she doesn’t need to know how…”

Tears escaped your eyes as you looked at your best friend, “Stevie… Is he..?”

Steve ran his hands over his face, “he – he was hangin’ onto the side of the train, y/n, and I let him fall. I couldn’t reach him and…”

The rest of Steve’s story fell upon deaf ears. No, not deaf ears, but ones that were ringing. Bucky was dead. He was dead. He fell off a train and was dead. He wasn’t coming home.

Bucky wasn’t coming home to you.

At that revelation, your body began to shake uncontrollably as the tears fell from your eyes, unable to be stopped. You tried to breathe but the pressure on your chest was unbearable. You tried to look at Steve, but your eyes were so blurry, “St-“

No words left your mouth, only the sounds of your sobbing. Steve leaped forward, wrapping his arms around you as you cried, screamed for Bucky, for your Jamie.

"No, no, not James! Steve, please!" you cried, falling onto the floor with Steve as he held you.

Peggy let her own tear slip, overwhelmed with your reaction. Leaving his dog tags, his files, and a medal on your table, she stepped out of your apartment.

Mrs. Betty Davis stepped out of her apartment just as Peggy shut the door, hoping nobody heard your cries and screams for James. Mrs. Davis looked to Peggy, “that boy, Barnes… he never came home?”

Peggy wiped her stray tear and cleared her throat, “I’m afraid not, ma’am. He died an honorable death, taking down a,” she paused, “a Nazi base.”

Mrs. Davis shifted her gaze to the door where she could clearly hear you crying and yelling for Bucky, that he wasn’t dead. She looked down to her welcome mat, “he was a good man, always takin’ care of that girl. His heart beat for her, he turned her world. Wouldn’t surprise anyone if he had a ring lyin’ around. She was just as in love with him as he was her.”

Peggy’s eyes filled up with tears as your neighbor explained you and Bucky’s love for one another, “I had only met him once but he… he seemed genuinely good.”

Mrs. Davis gave a sad smile, “he was. Thank you…for letting me know.” Peggy nodded at her.

Back inside, your tears had stained Steve’s shirt as he held you close, “I know y/n, I – I know. I got you.”

You had stopped screaming for Bucky, but your hands shook as they held onto Steve, fresh tears still running down your cheeks. With a shaky breath, you grasped onto Steve’s shirt, “do – do you think he was in pain?”

Steve let his own tears slip but held his own, “I don’t know y/n, but I’d like to think he wasn’t. He – uh – he told me, before he fell… he told me to tell his honeybee that he loves you so, so much and he – he wanted you to have his tags.”

You pulled away from Steve’s chest, looking at him in slight confusion, “his…tags?” It had then dawned on you:

Bucky wanted you to have his dog tags from the army.

Feeling a new thread of tears about to be shed, your lip quivered but you covered it up, glancing over the room until you saw the file Peggy had sat on the table. With shaky hands, you leaned towards your coffee table – the one that Bucky would rest his feet upon all the time until you smacked them off – and grabbed the file. Opening it up, you immediately saw his army identification photo and his dog tags hanging in the middle of the file.

You shut the flimsy piece of paper before you could cry anymore. Turning to Steve, you noticed his eyes were also red from crying, “what now?”

Steve and you now sat on the floor, backs resting on one of your chairs, “I hav’ta finish what I started, with Johann Schmidt and Zola. Can I be honest with you?”

You nodded your head, wiping your remaining tears on your shirt, “of – of course Steve.”

He let out a shaky breath, “I wish I could take away your pain, but I can’t. Before Buck was shipped off, I promised him I would take care of you, and right now, I need to be here for you. So, if you want to, I can ask Peg if you can come along with us, with me, and once I’m done, we can… we can do whatever you want to do.”

You picked at your nails, anxiety swallowing you whole, “and what if you don’t make it back, either?”

“I will.”

-

Honeybee Taglist:

@clownerlyluv

[roxa-sos]

watch - rafe cameron, topper thornton (smut)

rafe cameron x reader x topper thornton

tw; this is pure smut. exhibitionism smut with rafe and topper (and kelce for a hot sec) THIS IS FILTHY SNDKSMKF fair WARNING there is nothing but smut xoxo also druGs drugs drugs

request; i got a million, but I'm combining a request to have rafe fuck the reader in front of topper and kelce and have rafe and topper have a threesome with the reader. it's just gonna be rafe at first but don't worry top whores i got you later on ✨ ahh. unholy reqs are the entirety of my inbox 😌

tags; @outerbxrafe @jjmaebank @bellaguarneri @kitluvs1

a/n -- this is really bad lmao, im trash at writing full smut fics so parts are just snippits. also. tumblr doesn't want me to bold/italicize things rn so pls cope w me.

•

right there. in his dad's study, where kelce, topper, rafe, and a few of their friends were doling out white powder on the desk, rafe was pushing you right up against the wall, his lips on yours.

he always kissed you like he meant it, but it was even more exciting when he was high, and it usually ended with you two alone in a room. though, he seemed a little impatient, biting at your bottom lip, pulling at the hem of your shirt. you didn't protest, with enough alcohol in you to keep you drunk for days, you let him slip his hands under your shirt, his lips finding your neck, your own hands tangled in his hair. 

nobody paid attention to you two - this shit happened all the time. he'd make out with you or start removing your clothes until people left the room, never stopping. that, or he'd excuse himself, taking you to an empty bedroom.

this time he was getting a little more vicious, hungry, pulling your shirt right over your head without warning. you could hear topper and kelce still in the room, the crunch of whatever they were snorting being crushed, them giving a shout every time they snorted it.

it was hard to focus on them when you had rafe cameron shoving his hand down your shorts, though. you couldn't protest, you wanted him, then and there. he picked you up, turning to lean you on the couch, a few feet away from topper and kelce.

he slid two fingers into you, causing you to take a shaky breath, muffling a groan against his hair. the power he held over you when his hand was in your panties was unimaginable, but that was always expected with rafe. he liked power and sex while he was high, and you liked him when you were drunk, so it all fit together quite nicely.

he kept his fingers moving in and out of you at a steady rhythm, leaving bruises on your neck as his lips skimmed over your skin.

"rafe, another line?" you heard topper ask, turning to face the boy who was completely focused on you. "jesus, nevermind." he chuckled, turning back to kelce. you were a joke to those two, and honestly? you didn't mind. topper and kelce weren't the people you were trying to impress.

rafe removed his lips from your neck, sliding his hand out of your shorts before sticking his fingers in your mouth, your jaw slack. he used his other hand to pull your shorts down, pressing his hips back up against yours once his hand was back on your hip.

"dude, you're gonna fuck her here?" kelce laughed in disbelief, glancing over at rafe for a mere second.

"yeah, and you're free to watch." rafe answered in a low tone, quickly turning his attention back to you. he slid his fingers out of your mouth, moving them to unbutton his shorts.

"wait, really here?" you asked, expecting him to wait for them to leave or take you somewhere else.

"you want this or not?" his reply was enough of an answer, apparently, because he pulled his shorts and boxers down a bit and hooked his fingers in your panties, pulling them off for you. 

you nodded, and seconds after that he pushed into you, causing a gasp to fall from your mouth. it felt like there were eyes on you, and there probably were. your boyfriend's best friends were feet away from you, and you were the practically completely naked girl moaning on the couch.

he kept rolling his hips against yours, his heavy breathing the only thing you could hear besides your own embarrassingly loud moans. you hung your head back as he connected his lips back to your neck, moving down to your collarbone, quickening his pace.

"rafe, i'm almost there," you panted in his ear, listening to his soft grunts.

"go ahead, baby," rafe was getting more forceful with every movement, his hands steadying you, holding your hips.

you listened to him, as always, and let go of yourself, letting him hold you up as he kept moving against you, letting you ride out your high, finishing himself slowly after. in all honesty, he was pretty vanilla in front of his friends, you didn't mind. you knew he liked having you all to himself, though, and you knew he never let you go after one round.

he pulled his shorts up, kicking your clothes to the corner before telling you to wrap your legs around his waist.

"heading upstairs," he muttered to you as you kissed his shoulder, shoving past topper and kelce, who'd been staring at your ass.

it was a little gratifying, knowing that they were interested in something that rafe wouldn't let them have. 

————

rafe was far more to you in his bedroom. his hand was around your neck, making it harder to squeeze any sort of noise out of your throat as he rocked his hips against yours, telling you you had to wait until he said so until you came.

his voice was dry and raspy, his forehead was glistening with sweat. you were thankful for the view a little further down, seeing as he'd finally taken off his shirt and shorts.

"look at you, all pretty," he mumbled before removing his hand from your throat, pulling out of you quickly. he moved that hand to your clit and kept playing with it for a few moments, before nodding at you, letting you come apart once more in his hands. he slid down next to you, tossing the sheet you were under over his waist, steadying his breaths.

"oh, come on, you made her wait?" you heard a voice at the door. standing there was topper, his hand on the doorknob.

"what, you could do better?" rafe scoffed, a smug smile on his face. you'd told him yourself that rafe was as good as it got.

"watch me," topper answered, closing and locking the door behind him, taking off his polo as he approached the bed, kicking off his shorts before crawling on top of you.

your knees were still weak from rafe, your back hurt from being arched for so long, the knot in your stomach was only getting worse, so when topper pulled the sheets off of you and adjusted you so that he was breathing on your core, it sent shivers up your spine. he ran his tongue over you, and all you could do was ball up the sheets on the bed in your hands. he stayed there, teasing you for a moment before pressing his lips right above where you needed him.

he slipped his own fingers inside of you, the pad of his thumb resting against your clit. it was like he was massaging you, it was slow and torturous. you couldn't help but writhe under his hands, and he seemed to enjoy that, removing his hands to grab your wrists and hold them above your head, positioning himself over you.

"fuck, top-" you groaned, interrupted by him moving his boxers down and sliding into you.

"yeah, just like that." he chuckled, happy with the response you were giving him rather than rafe. "fuck, no wonder why he can't keep his dick off of you." he moaned, referencing rafe.

you were so close already that you couldn't help it, coming down like a whimpering mess under the boy.

"see?" he groaned with one final stroke, "way better," he let out a breath and sat up, seeing as you and rafe were taking up the whole bed. 

fuck, maybe fucking in front of rafe's friends wasn't all that bad at all.

a/n -- that was so FILTHY snskmdkskc i love it.