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pezberrywhoreee · 6 months ago

Text

'Hormones'

pairing: dom!quinn fabray x sub!rachel berry

words: 6,712

content warming: domishskank!quinn, subish!rachel, bdsm, light d/s dynamic, power play, switching, non-binary quinn, she/they quinn, tboy quinn, hrt (testosterone), tdick, increased libido, packer, grinding and frottage, oral sex, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, sex toys, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, domestic bdsm??, they're in love

summary: how are you gonna talk about hormones when you can't even make that whore moan? or quinn just did her t-shot and settles into a newfound feeling

a/n: before anyone comes for me, why on earth would a cis person write this? this one is for my fellow bitches that want to start t because bottom growth :D

Under the bleachers, right now.

Rachel lightly furrowed her brows at the text that she just received from Quinn. After the initial confusion a little smirk grew on her lips.

I'm having lunch with the glee club, Quinn.

Right now.

She quirked a brow at the firmness of the text, intrigued at what was so urgent that Quinn was acting more demanding than usual.

Rachel packed her lunch away and excused herself, wishing the group a good rest of their day before making her way towards the field.

As she neared the known location of the Skanks, she slightly slowed down just in case she was intruding on something. She peaked her head and only saw her pink and blonde haired partner taking a drag of a cigarette.

She took in their form, marvelling at it as per usual. She loved the way the pink ends of her hair peaked out of her beanie, how her distressed shirt showed off her toned arms, how they purposefully pulled their floor length skirt below their pelvic bone.

Quinn smirked unabashedly at how obvious the brunette was in her staring before quickly dropping their cigarette and stomping it out. She was nowhere near finishing it but her girlfriend had made it clear that she dislikes that habit of hers and the blonde was more than willing to compromise.

They decided that Quinn should limit her smoking around the brunette because she was afraid that the smoke would damage her voice, which the blonde thought was hilarious.

"Are you gonna come here or keep staring?". Quinn teased as she took in the girl, scanning over her form. Her outfit was very on brand - a simple white shirt with frilled sleeves and a staple plaid skirt and white socks along with some loafers to complete the look.

Something about it was so true to self and the blonde couldn't help but be turned on.

"Oh sorry". Rachel apologised with a nervous giggle, making her way towards the pink haired person. Their aura often intimidated the brunette.

Quinn closed the space between them expertly, pulling Rachel by the lower back and pressing their lips together in a heated kiss.

The blonde hummed into the kiss, groping at Rachel's ass. The brunette smiled as they pulled their lips away

"Oh, is that why you needed to see me?". Rachel taunted them lightly. She pushed into the blonde's grasp on her rear.

"I did my T shot yesterday— and I can really feel it". Quinn said between kisses, her hands slowly wandering around the girls body.

Quinn had recently started taking a lower dosage of the hormone and was in the early stages of change to her body and mind. They had very clearly noticed that their bottom growth was coming in nice and strong. This had made her distractingly horny and sensitive.

"Oh, I see~". Rachel drawled, a smirk curling onto her face. She let her eyes flutter shut as the taller person ducked her head and pressed firm kisses to her jaw and neck.

"My boxers keep rubbing against me and I can't take it". Quinn whined into Rachel's skin, pulling their bodies flush together at the waist.

The brunette tried to hide the smug grin that was fighting to show on her face at the combination of the blondes unexpected whininess, and that they were having a battle with their hips that were aching to rut against Rachel's thigh.

"Aww, you poor thing. That must be really hard". Rachel mocked lightly, pressing her thigh closer between Quinn's legs.

The shorter girl opened her eyes and pulled away from Quinn's lips that were starting to get lazy at the distracting feeling against their core.

Instead, Rachel placed one of her hands on Quinn's nape and pressed her lips all over their pale neck. She smirked at the whimper that fell from their lips.

"How dare you talk to me like that?". The blonde whispered, starting to sound a little breathless.

"Something tells me that you love it". The brunette teased once more, caressing at their nape.

Although Quinn would probably not admit it - or maybe it would just take some time and self acceptance - she did have times since starting T that she has felt more desperate and in turn more submissive than usual.

This doesn't necessarily mean that she would want to let go of control everytime they had sex, but she was definitely more open to being treated the way they treat Rachel - and they have made this clear to the brunette.

Quinn sighed when she heard the bell signaling the end of lunch, reluctantly pulling away from Rachel. They straightened their beanie and tried to compose themselves.

"How about you come over later? My dads are out for a few days". The brunette offered, taking in Quinn's blushing features.

The blonde smirked and gave a nod in response, her mind already swimming with ideas of what may occur later that day.

Quinn practically sped home as the final bell rang. They took their time showering and picking out a comfortable but showy outfit, wanting to impress her girlfriend. She went with a more masc look this time. She paired a sideless band tee that showed off their trans tape with some baggy jeans.

They slightly whimpered as they put their packer into place, trying to repress any desire that was bubbling in her stomach.

With that, she grabbed a couple of essentials and drove herself to the Berry household.

Rachel opened the door at took in the delicious sight of the blonde leaning against her door frame. They fidgeted with the carabiner that hung from one of their belt loops.

"Aren't you a sight for these sore eyes?". The pink haired one purred as their eyes ran up and down the brunette's body, her outfit the same as earlier except it was more wrinkled and less pristine.

Rachel blushed and giggled at the cheesy line before grabbing Quinn by their waistband and pulling them inside.

Quinn felt like that was the perfect invitation for a make out session, so they initiated it with much fervour. She let Rachel slam her against the now shut door and connect their lips eagerly.

The blonde licked inside Rachel's mouth within minutes, aching to feel the wetness of her tongue against theirs. Their hands grabbed at the brunette's hips, groping at them for now but battling the urge to press them against her own.

Rachel internally shivered at the breaths and moans that escaped the blonde. She was quite impressed at how well they were holding it together considering that they've been worked up for hours now.

Quinn sucked at Rachel's bottom lip, biting at it as she pulled back to allow them to catch their breath.

The pair of eyes connected for a moment longer than usual which sparked laughter from both parties. Rachel rolled her eyes at the smirk that the blonde gave her after the giggles dulled.

Rachel directed her attention towards Quinn's neck, mouthing at it thoroughly. "May I— touch your chest?", she asked in between kisses.

The blonde felt their heart flutter a little bit. Rachel was really good with being mindful of Quinn's dysphoric spots but it was still forever endearing to the blonde.

"Please do, thank you for asking". Quinn hummed as they welcomed the tongue that was brushing over their sensitive spots.

With the permission, Rachel ran her hands along the girls flat chest and stomach. She left a few light scratches over the fabric as she attacked their neck.

She reconnected their lips, both of their eyes falling shut softly with her hands exploring their torso. The brunette marvelled at how the tone of the persons abdomen was able to be felt, granted they were wearing a lightweight shirt.

Rachel quicky let a hand palm over the prominent bulge in Quinn's jeans. She had been aching to touch it the moment she saw it sitting all pretty against the blonde's crotch.

A small whimper was heard from the taller girl at both the attention to their erogenous zone and the teasing at her dick.

Another smirk pulled on Rachel's face as she tried to refrain from putting too much pressure too soon onto the very sensitive area.

A part of her wanted to see just how much borderline torture (being teasing, but they both knew how dramatic Quinn can be) the skank could handle, but on the other extreme, the brunette wanted to use that heightened sense to her advantage.

The brunette dragged her hand from the blonde's bulge to their thigh, gripping at it possessively.

"You look so good, baby". Rachel mumbled against Quinn's jaw as she felt at their body. The simple compliment was elevated by the deeper tone of the girl's voice which awakened a new sense of arousal in the blonde.

"Thank you~", the blonde slurred, trying her best to not push her hips forward as to not look as desperate as they actually were.

They grabbed Rachel's face firmly and pulled her into a deep kiss as a way to momentarily distract herself from the lack of stimulation at her dick. Quinn lost her ferocity as she felt the small hand palm and then apply pressure back over her packer.

The brunette giggled against their lips at how abruptly their kisses got softer.

"Let go, Quinn. Tonight is about you". She hummed warmly, smiling into their lips. Rachel saw the physical impact of the sentiment as Quinn relaxed against the door and her body slacked to a more comfortable state.

"Push those lovely hips into my hand... I know you want to". The brunette whispered with a giggle. It was almost as if the skank forgot how to kiss effectively as they started to softly hump into Rachel's palm.

The blonde had pulled away from Rachel's lips to release some sharp breaths as a result of the insistence on her sensitive cock.

Rachel dragged her tongue all over Quinn's neck once again, smirking smugly at the whimpers falling from their lips. Waves of arousal pooled at her core as they rolled their hips into her palm, needy.

"Feels good, huh?". The brunette grinned into their neck which got a whine in response.

Quinn stole a heated kiss from the shorter girl before patting the back of her thighs, indicating her to jump into her grasp and wrap her legs around the blonde's waist.

The brunette did as instructed, holding onto Quinn's back for extra support as they started carrying her upstairs and towards her bedroom. She pressed a few lazy kisses to the blonde's face, earning her a big grin.

Once they entered the room, Quinn headed straight for the bright pink bed and fell onto it backwards, the brunette in their arms. A few groans left them both at the impact but the sound of chuckles softened the situation.

They perfectly fell into a position where Rachel was conveniently straddling the blonde and this allowed them to continue with their eager kissing.

There had always been something so simply erotic about making out to both of them. Something about it was very deeply gartifying to the point where they have both gotten off just from that. Quinn still can't wrap their mind around how incredibly sexually compatible they were.

Lips were enveloped with urgency, nothing was trivial about the actions of either person - almost as if the other would disintegrate if they didn't touch them with enough fervour.

Quinn's hands roamed and groped all around the back of the girl's thighs, to her ass and tightly at the hips as they moaned into one another's mouth.

Their movements naturally led them into a push and pull motion as they grabbed at each other. Soon enough the blonde attempted to gain friction on her dick by pushing her hips up desperately.

The skank blushed after they heard their own effort sounds which resembled whines. The cooing in response from Rachel did nothing to help her circumstance.

To convince herself that she maintained any control, the blonde forced Rachel's hips down to be flush against theirs, making it so that her core was pressed up to Quinn's bulge.

The brunette couldn't have stifled the whimper that pushed past her now rosey lips. This sound fuelled Quinn's growing ego and they felt a burst of renewed confidence, pushing up the front of Rachel's skirt and pulling her back - the soft material of her damp underwear making contact with their denim covered bulge.

Quinn quickly noticed some of Rachel's resolve drop and a comfortable submission start dancing around her.

Rachel broke their lips apart as she felt her breathing pick up along with the blonde's. She hid her face into Quinn's shoulder, occasionally biting when certain amounts of pleasure ran through her.

"Oh god~". The brunette whined, not having realised how wet she actually was which was accentuated by the rough material and frantic movements rubbing into her.

The dual frottage was already starting to overwhelm the Skank as every rut from Rachel was so motivated that their packer ground against their sensitive cock perfectly.

Quinn's sounds mostly consisted of thick breaths that throaty whines penetrated once in a while. They mentally scolded themself as she felt a pit forming in her lower stomach.

They knew that Rachel didn't have an issue with it taking less effort to make them come (she probably thought that it was admirable, knowing her). Nonetheless, they felt more needy recently and she wasn't sure of how the other girl would react.

"Rachel— stop I'm gonna come". Quinn husked in a rush. Although, their words contradicted their hips which picked up their pace and the hands firmly guiding the hips on top of hers.

The brunette turned her head, freely moaning into Quinn's ear. "We certainly are worked up today, aren't we?". She mocked, further fueling the fire. Rachel added to the blonde's efforts by grinding in their preferred pace.

Rachel attacked their neck as soon as they conveniently tipped their head back in pleasure. Every push of their hips sent the blonde closer, the lips on her throat contributing greatly.

Quick breaths and interrupted moans signaled Quinn's impeding orgasm which the brunette needed to observe. She pulled her head back to look down at the girl - bottom lip between her teeth - giving them a last few enthusiastic rolls of her hips.

They tumbled over the edge, mumbling the brunette names. Quinn felt her breathing stop as she felt something akin to a second release. Her lack of breath was broken by an out of character, high pitched whimper as they felt a short rush of liquid release from their cunt.

Soft mewls sounded from her. Rachel stopped grinding, giving them time to collect themselves from the clearly intense prolonged orgasm.

"Oh my god— that has been happening so much recently". The blonde said, trying to catch their breath. Though Rachel couldn't hear or feel Quinn squirt, she put the pieces together as soon as she saw a small patch of wetness that managed to soak through their jeans. The brunettes arousal heightened significantly at the immense pleasure that she just witnessed.

Rachel smiled down at the skank with darkened eyes as they somewhat came down from their high, traces of want still bubbling inside them. She leaned down and peppered a few kisses on their face which was well received as Quinn giggled and pushed into the touch.

"How are you feeling?", The brunette asked genuinely after reconnecting their eyes. All of her features were soft accept her dark eyes that had a lot of mischief in them.

"Really good. That was intense, huh?". Quinn breathed out, finishing her question with a small scoff. Rachel only responded with a giggle before lovingly stroking the blonde's blushing face and moving to lie next to them.

They lay together momentarily before Quinn manoeuvres out of their jeans, throwing it to the end of Rachel's large bed. The brunette scanned her body after she reclined; watching how their breathing evened out, the remaining trembles that shoot through their thighs.

Rachel kneeled in between Quinn's slightly spread legs, an urge to shower the blonde with loving kisses rushing over her. She lay her lips from a toned abdomen, over wet boxers and clenching thighs. Deeply satisfied by the content sighs from above her.

She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of Quinn's boxer. "May I?" she asked excitedly, looking up at them to gauge their reaction. The blonde nodded happily.

As Rachel pulled the garment down it got caught a couple times over the bulge underneath it. She carefully reached inside and grabbed the now damp object - making sure not to press it against Quinn's sensitive area - and gently placed it near their discarded jeans.

A pleasant chuckle was heard from further up the bed. "You're so gentle with it", their smile was audible through their words. Rachel swung her head around to the girl as she chortled. "Well I don't want it to get hurt", she mused.

Quinn shook her head with a scoff at the silly comment, endeared. They willingly lifted their hips to aid the brunette in pulling down their boxers which were also discarded like the others.

Rachel's eyes followed the path of the newer hair that the blonde had grown, which further defined their beautiful body. Her eyes scanned from the smattering of dirty blonde curls on their mound and and up her exposed happy trail. The brunette loved how it chiseled their navel.

The low key staring was broken as Rachel climbed up her body and pressed their lips together in a heated kiss, moaning into the others mouth. As Quinn was encouraging the kiss to get deeper, the girl pulled away. They furrowed their brows but quickly changed her expression at the beaming excitement displayed on Rachel's face.

The brunette was nearly bouncing. "I have a surprise for you!". She tried to contain her exhilaration but obviously failed. The grin on Quinn's face made her feel supported and warm inside. "Oh~?", the blonde purred, engrossed.

Rachel hopped off the bed to go and retrieve something from her near by dresser. She felt eyes burning into her ass, knowing that it was partially visible as her skirt was thoroughly disheveled. The girl swayed her hips wordlessly letting Quinn know that she knew she was staring and that she liked it.

The mysterious object was hidden behind her back as she made her way back to her bed. She re-took her position on top of the Skank's hips, smiling down at her.

Rachel presented the item and waited for Quinn's response. Said person's eyes widened for a second at the new toy as they inspected it from top to bottom.

It was some kind of phallus that had a smaller and thicker one on the end where it bent into a sixty degree angle. On the shorter shaft it featured a clitoral stimulator in the shape of rabbit ears. Quinn smiled at the gorgeous forest green that painted the toy, scoffing at Rachel's attention to detail as it was her favourite colour.

"Is that—?". Quinn asked with a smirk. "Yeah! It's a insertable strap on in your favourite colour! And it's adjustable!". Rachel exclaimed as she bent the long shaft to all of its potential positions.

"Wow, Rach— that's really cool! Thank you". The blonde stuttered out, feeling a rush of arousal pool in their stomach. "Aren't those expensive?" they asked with a breathy laugh.

"Oh don't worry about that, honey. It's going to be so worth it". Rachel reassured, her expression instantly turning seductive with a smirk.

"Is that right?". Quinn asked with a villainous smile, her eyes half lidded as they looked up at their girlfriend. The brunette nodded with her bottom lip between her teeth.

Before Quinn could give her snarky response, she had leaned closer to their torso and ran her tongue along the insertive shaft in a swipe. The brunette held eye contact as she continued teasing the blonde like that. As she began to suckle around the tip of the toy, she made sure that she had Quinn's undivided attention.

Rachel lathered the shaft with her saliva, eventually taking the whole length into her mouth. The blonde gaped at the expert way her girlfriend ran her tongue around the toy, their hips bucking at the sight - which resulted in a beautiful smirk from Rachel.

The sucking wet sounds that emitted from the girl made Quinn let out a shaky breath as a wave of pleasure settled in her core. With one last kiss to the head of the shaft, Rachel pulled the toy away from her face - impressed with the show that she put on.

The brunette scooted backwards towards Quinn's legs before settling in between them once more. She nudged their legs further apart, stroking their inner thigh with her thumb. Her slightly red lip found its way between teeth as she finally saw the girl's swollen cunt.

The thumb at their thigh inched inwards, pulling a puffy lip to the side and staring in awe at the amount of slick she produced. She could see their dick visibly pulsing which nearly took her breath away.

Rachel looked up at the skank to see that her chest was heaving, their eyes connecting for a moment in a heated glare.

Quinn felt the underside of the wet toy press against their dick and dragged along their leaking folds. A hearty whimper exited her as the brunette lined up the head with their entrance.

"May I?". Rachel asked softly. "Please". Quinn replied simply with a slight desperation to her voice. At that, the brunette slowly pushed the shaft past their entrance and deep into their cunt.

Quinn watched it enter her, a powerful breath knocked out of her which resulted in their head falling back as it bottomed out.

The bunny ear shaped silicon at their dick was already starting to drive them crazy due to its obvious presences but lack of enough pressure.

Rachel pulled back and squinted at the toy as if examining if something was even. Her smile turned into a smirk and her eyes softened, looking up at Quinn who saw the desire in her eyes.

As they stared at each other, Quinn eventually smiled, repressing a laugh before sitting up and grabbing the girl by the waist. The skank tackled Rachel so that she was on her back with Quinn hovering over her. They muffled a groan as the toy pressed deeper into her during the shift.

Their lips met, the kiss laced with a newfound animalistic edge especially from the blonde. As soon as the kiss began, it ended with Quinn's hands reaching for the waistband of both the brunette skirt and underwear. They were expertly pulled down and discarded.

"Smooth". Rachel commented with a grin. Quinn shook her head with a scoff.

Rachel's legs naturally came together at the knees which Quinn was having none of. They spread her legs and unabashedly zeroed in on her glistening cunt. Rachel's chest heaved almost theatrically as she was appreciated like a painting.

"God~". The skank sighed as she took in the girl's half naked body. Rachel giggled in response and further distressed Quinn by pulling the last offending piece of clothing off of herself, leaving her completely naked.

A pained sounding sigh left the blonde at the beautiful sight. Rachel couldn't help but show off her ear to ear smile at each little reaction she got out of her partner by merely existing.

Quinn wasted no time and layed in between the girls legs, her soft thighs framing their face. Their hands instantly reached up to toy with her breasts which was very well received as a content moan left the brunette. Said girl rested her restless hands in blonde and pink hair.

Quinn's current angle was almost overstimulating in the best was possible. Their face was inches away from what she'd been craving for the past two days. Not to mention that the L shaped toy inside of her bottomed out to a new depth, with the bunny ears pressing roughly into her sensitive dick.

The skank brought a hand up to catch a drop of fresh slick on her finger. She additionally pushed that finger into Rachel to collect more of her wetness. They reveled in the way it took her breath away momentarily.

"I love my effect on you. Taste it". Quinn husked as they reached up and pushed their finger past the girl's plump lips. The already present smirk pulled to be more prominent at the breathy moan that slipped around her fingers.

Each drop of arousal burned into Rachel's tongue, knowing that Quinn had caused the delicious flavour.

Quinn was drawn in to lay their tongue flat against her folds. Their eyes fluttered at her taste which encouraged her to start slowly lapping at the girl. She slipped her finger from Rachel's mouth and brought it back down.

Nails initially scratched lightly at her hips, the Skank tracing her name on her skin. A whimper sounded as Quinn slowly pushed her middle and ring finger into Rachel's entrance.

"Oh Quinn". The brunettes whole being heated up at the intrusion as well as from the firm look in the blonde's eyes that were staring up at her. They set a regular pace as they toyed with the girls swollen clit using her tongue and teeth.

It was as if each lap of their tongue blurred everything else in existence beside Rachel's essence and the sounds falling from her. Quinn let their eyes roll back and close as she started to drive their hips into the mattress.

Rachel gasped at the electrifying feeling of how the Skank's groans were running through her and intensifying her pleasure. She reveled in the desperate whimpers that climbed up Quinn's throat.

It was clear that Quinn preferred topping and Rachel loved that, but she would be lying if she said that she didn't enjoy Quinn being needier and more submissives recently. There was something about the way their hormones were helping them start to be comfortable in themselves and begin to let go a little.

The way in which they were silently moaning as they drove their hips into the pink bed, was a great example. Rachel grinned down at the focused girl, feeling the utmost love from them.

Now, Rachel didn't think that she was going to be throwing the blonde around and dominating them any time soon, there was something about this new side of Quinn that she found unexpectedly really arousing. Although she still was quite aware of her place and she wouldn't dare act otherwise.

"Oh good girl. You feel so good for me". The brunette teased, trying to hide the smirk emerging on her blushing face. Quinn dragged their hand down from the girls chest and left a resounding smack on her thigh, fucking their fingers into her harder. The sensation sent a moan up Rachel's throat, the smirk on her face disappearing much to Quinn's amusement.

"If that's what I get— for being hilarious, then maybe—i should do it more— fuck—often". The brunette mused breathily.

"You wouldn't dare, I taught you far better than that". The blonde dismissed, their tone - physically and metaphorically - thick with lust, throat coated with her girlfriends arousal.

"You're right", Rachel whimpered, still very conscious that the blonde was rotating between sucking at her clit and lapping at it, while slowly fucking into her.

"Say that again", Quinn purred, their eyes rolling at the ego boosting words.

"You're right, Quinn", the brunette gasped once more, rolling her hips up into the blonde's touch in addition. A deep groan rumbled into the girls cunt in response.

The Skank gave her a few more desperate licks, lapping up as much as they could to keep the taste of her in their mouth the whole night. Rachel managed to peel her eyes open and the only thing she thought was how starving her girlfriend looked, as if she depraved her sexually.

Rachel's hands slid from Quinn's hair to their jaw, slowly easing them away from her body. A wide grin spread on her face at the sight of their blushing lips which they licked, making sure that not one drop of Rachel went to waste.

Quinn's eyes slowly opened until the brunette was in their line of sight, giving her that dazed, half lidded glare that she loved.

The blonde returned to a kneeling position which the other girl mimicked, though not without a dramatic whine at having to move so soon after feeling so good.

Quinn looked up and down between Rachel's eyes and lips. Up, down and up again before grabbing at the girls waist and connecting their lips.

"How are you holding up, baby?" Rachel asked, her voice more even and soft. She snaked her hand down in between Quinn's legs, lightly stroking the toy protruding from her folds.

The painfully slow rubbing and thrusting caused their mouth to drop open in a silent moan. Rachel felt as the blonde's forehead connected with her own, their eyes fluttering - giving her the answer.

"Gr—great. I need you.", the blonde said, practically breathless as they restrained themselves from humping into the brunette's hand.

Rachel smirked and with that, she reached a little further down the shaft just before the insertable end and pushed a button.

The blonde honestly thought that she was going to come instantly but was able to hold off, their jaw hanging with air trapped in their lungs and the most ecstacy filled eye roll Rachel had ever seen.

The internal and external vibration was almost too overstimulating for them, almost, but not enough to stop them from seeking more. Conveniently, the pair were close enough to enable Quinn to push her hips up, essentially ruting against Rachel's stomach.

"Does that feel good, baby?~", Rachel dragged, her voice slightly mocking which the blonde did not pick up on as they were too busy ascending from all the stimulation.

The brunette pulled her face back, a hand flying up to support the pink haired lolling head. She was quite aware that they were an eye roller (and she found it painfully attractive) but the intensity of the ones from tonight set her body on fire. It was as if Quinn's eyes were permanently stuck back there, her lip between her teeth in a firm bite.

All the moans and whimpers wanting to escape the blonde were strangled as if they didn't have the strength or power to be fully formed sounds.

Quinn thought that the intrusion was intense but was strongly mistaken when she delivered the first few shallow thrusts. She fought her eyes rolling as her thumbs pried open Rachel's soft ass cheeks, heavy breaths escaping their chest.

The feeling of Rachel's lips traveling on their face brought them back, their eyes momentarily dropping back into place before another strong wave sent them back. "Right— right there. Oh my god". The words couldn't even be classed as words, more so unintelligible mumbles of raw desire.

Quinn regained enough power to pull the girl closer to her hips, making her thrusts shallower but faster. Their dick was aching for another release that they were once again fiercely chasing.

Once Rachel's kisses shifted to behind her ear, she felt the build of her climax. Short breaths, whinier moans, slurrings of Rachel's name. With a final kiss, they reached the peak of another trembling and shaking climax.

A thought went throughout Quinn's head - that there was no way that their knees were going to hold them vertical for the duration of their orgasm. This thought was proven as they collapsed on top of the shorter girl who chuckled when she hit the soft sheets. Softly groaning at the impact of the skank on top of her.

"You're super sensitive today, huh?" Rachel asked with a hint of mischief in her voice. Her hand naturally draping over Quinn's clothed back and stroking it comfortingly.

"Looks like it", the blonde scoffed, a smile on their face at being so physically close. Their dazed eyes took in the girls face which they were forever in love with.

"How many times do you think you'll come for me?". Rachel teased half seriously, biting her lip in a smile in anticipation. Quinn scoffed shaking their head at the girls excitement.

"I don't know, maybe— a few more times depending on how soon you'll let me— fuck you". Quinn purred, pausing periodically as the vibrations were still very much present. Rachel still was not used to how high their sex drive was since they started T, but it definitely was not an unpleasant surprise.

"Yeah?", Rachel lightly challenged, her tone shifting higher on the inflection.

The blonde nodded in response, giving her a pointed look, hinting her to move. She lightly rolled her hips, dulling that ache in her cunt.

"How do you want me, baby?", Rachel purred, her tone filled with lust.

Quinn smiled at the slight reminder of the power dynamic between the two. "Face in the— pillows, ass up and back—arched. Go". The command sent a shiver up Rachel's spine.

As the brunette went to push herself up, Quinn similarly moved backwards giving her space to turn around. A shaky breath left the blonde at the sight of how the girl's delicious neck transitioned into her smooth back that arched, pushing her ass out.

Quinn scooted forward leaning over Rachel's back, pushing their hips into her ass. Their face just about reached the brunettes defined shoulder blades which they pressed open mouthed kisses to.

"Have I ever told you how much I love your back?" Quinn groaned into her skin, mesmerised by the smooth plane. "How much?" Rachel mumbled into the pillows, her voice seductive.

Quinn responded with more groans, making the brunette giggle, a sound that Quinn reveled in.

Once they were done worshiping the plane, they moved off of her back, kneeling behind her once more. The urge to grope at her ass was driving Quinn insane and was not made easier when Rachel teasingly wiggled her ass in invitation.

"The day you give me— the privilege to take your ass is the day— that I die" Quinn whispered brokenly to herself, hoping that the girl would hear as she gave in and massaged her ass.

"Is that right?", The brunette teased. Quinn hummed affirmingly in response, laying a few hungry kisses on the girl's behind. Rachel made sure to store that piece of information safely in her brain.

Quinn straightend their back, letting a thumb gently rub through Rachel's folds and collecting some slick from pushing inside her entrance shallowly. They lined up the head of the toy, guiding it in as they slowly pushed their hips until they were flush with the brunette's ass.

A hearty groan made itself known from the skank, the vibrations against her becoming higher in pressure as the girl's cunt sucked her in. Rachel let out a series of whimpers at the deepness of the intrusion caused by the angle of her body.

They drove into the brunette, all of their weight pushing down against her lithe body and groaning as helpless muffled moans spilled from her lips.

The sight and feeling of how the girl's cunt pulled around the length of the strap as they pulled out, a beautiful sheen covering the silicone, was already inviting that feeling in their stomach that they already felt twice that afternoon.

"Oh my god—you're—gripping so hard" Their "words" came out as a collection of breaths with whines that could barely be classed as coherent words. They almost instantly ascended, as if they could feel her cunt through the strap.

The brunette whined at the sensation of blunt nails digging into her hips, the sheer force of the blonde's grip almost drawing blood. Consequently, Rachel pushed her ass back against Quinn who let out a choked moan.

Quinn moved their grip to push down against the girl's lower back, forcing the arch in her back to deepen and her ass to push out further, intensifying the pressure of the toy fucking inside of her.

Quinn collapsed against the other tired girl, both spent as their exhausted breaths mingled.

"Let me hear you, baby—" the blonde purred as she grabbed Rachel's hair by the root and forced her to turn her head to the side, the sounds escaping her becoming clearer as her breathing laboured. "This is what you wanted, right?" Quinn continued to taunt as that familiar control came over her once again.

Rachel whined in response, eagerly pushing back against the girl as she continued to play her little power game, doing everything she could to throw the skank off.

The brunette fought the rolling of her eyes as the harsh pressure returned to her back, feeling herself be physically forced into the same exact overpowered place that Quinn always managed to get her into with very little effort.

The blonde's moans shifted into heavy breaths as she squeezed her eyes shut, hyper focused on the insistence of the toy against her increasingly sensitive dick, each thrust abusing them closer to another release.

"Take it" the skank growled through gritted teeth as they teasingly slowed down their pace, bringing their hips down in a heavy, slow assault.

Rachel felt one of her hands being pulled between her legs, instantly catching on that Quinn wanted her to touch herself, making her whimper in the back of her throat.

She gently rubbed at her own clit as the girl behind her relentlessly pushed into her, her thrusts becoming inconsiderate and rough.

The blonde reveled in the sensation of her muscles straining, the way their abs were flexing as she drove into the small girl. A low consistent growl resounded in their chest that they barely took notice of, this regained power eliciting the deep animalistic part of her being.

The skank's jaw fell open as they felt their thighs begin to shake once again, a particularly punishing thrust against their dick sending them tumbling into another overwhelming orgasm. Rachel felt a strong wave of arousal settle in her cunt as she heard the agonised groans leaving the blonde.

She muffled her own sounds momentarily to clearly hear the new sounds that left the girl, the hearty groans ripping up her throat being something that she's never heard during previous scenes.

Rachel couldn't help the smirk that grew on her flushed face as she felt liquid hit her thighs, whimpering at how Quinn's hips shallowly trembled against her.

The brunette felt her head completely slack as the blonde very quickly started pushing back into her at their previous pace and intensity. Only short breaths and gasps were heard behind her, feeling the bed shake underneath them at how much Quinn residually twitched.

They felt a trance like state circling their mind as their jaw continued to slack, moans mindlessly spilling out of her, completely motivated by the whines that escaped the small girl in her grip.

"Fuck—you're gonna make me come again" the skank mumbled, her hips steadily pumping into the brunette who continued to rutt against her own hand as she found a rhythm of fucking herself against the toy.

Quiet curses left the small girl's lips as she also felt that similar building in her core, her ears only attuned to Quinn's sounds as she focused on hitting that spot inside herself every time.

The sudden heightened sensations in her body knocking the breath out of her, her body begged to finally let go after such teasing.

A final cry from above her sent her falling over the brink of orgasm, her eyes rolling as the blonde eagerly fucked her through the intense climax.

The skank doubled over against the brunettes back, groaning into ear as she felt that overpowering clench in her core, her hips stuttering through the release.

The skank lightly giggled against Rachel's head "Did you keep count or was I supposed to?" they hummed as they wrapped their arms around the small girl and pulling her into a satisfied embrace.

#glee #rachel berry #quinn fabray #skank!quinn #quinn x rachel #rachel x quinn #faberry #glee fanfiction #glee season 3 #smuttt #glee smuttt #oneshot #bd/sm k!nk #dianna agron #lea michele #pezberrywhoreee k!nk #pezberrywhoreee

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seungiepop · 11 months ago

Text

𝑵𝒐 𝑵𝒖𝒕 𝑵𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓

someone stab me now

pairing: enha x best friend reader

characters: all enha members, Shin Yuna (itzy), Choi Beomgyu (TXT), and Mark lee (NCT)

caution: sexual context (only implied on the legal line), cursing, the reader is an 03’ line with sunoo and yuna

genre: social media au and one shots

wc: 0.3k

Masterlist | previous | next

ⓝⓝⓝ

“Y/n?”

Facing the direction of the voice, her eyes widened at the sight of the person in front of her. After all these weeks trying to avoid him here he was, the devil himself.

“Chenle?!” she gasped quietly, dropping the cleaning rag she was holding onto the ground.

Fuck she should have just made Yuna come clean the outside tables instead of volunteering. “Finally I see you in person” he smiled widely, pulling the girl into his embrace.

She froze

What the hell is he doing?

“i-uh-“

“Wow… you look great!” his eyes trailing down her body, taking in every inch of skin that was exposed. Feeling rather uncomfortable she pulled away and stepped back. Her eyes immediately looked to the side of him and saw a girl, maybe a year or two younger than she was, wrap her arms around his.

“What uh- what are you doing here?” She asked, kneeling down to pick up the rag and walked over to clean the other tables. Just because her stupid ex was in front of her doesn’t mean she was gonna stop doing her job.

“I wanted to apologize for our text messages, I didn’t mean for it to get heated like that.” he exclaimed.

She didn’t have time for this, she was agitated with the fact he had all these years to apologize for what he's done yet continued to stomp her down and now he wants to be this genuine guy infront of his skank?

Someone stab me now

“Chenle look— I'm over it. Like completely done with whatever happened between us, you left and that was done. Unless you are here to apologize to me then I don’t want to hear it so please just leave me alone. Besides it looks like you’ve moved on already so let’s keep it that way, okay?” not wanting to hear whatever he had to say she turned away from him and walked back inside the shop. Ignoring the eyes of her friends who witnessed the whole thing.

Ugh I need a smoke

∙ ₒ✰. ∙✧. ∘ ₒ® ✦. ✰∙ ★ ∘ₒ © ∙ ₒ ✰ ∙ ✧ ∘ₒ ® ✦ ✰

taglist- @ilovecheese09 @namdeyuoi @moonshoon @xrr-s4sha @yannew @cup1dton @eternallyreid @heewonenthusiast @rikisly @parkhonnie @wvnkoi @slugism @yizhoutv @jakewife @bahngchatsfx @kangseulgithegreat @jinnisbaby @heeseungshim @wonswondrland @underneaththestarlight @theskzvibe @enhaz1 @kkaelie @firstclassjaylee @wonniie3 @lol6sposts @deobitifull @nyfwyeonjun

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cybercl0ne · 1 year ago

Note

PLEASE PART 6 OF “Falling For a Dead Rose” OF THE SHIGARAKI FIC! I LOVE IT SO MUCH I NEED ANOTHER PARTT ❤️❤️❤️

I'm so glad to hear you enjoy it! I hope this part is another one you can enjoy. <3

Summary: Shigaraki gives you back your quirk with ground rules, sort of allowing himself to grow closer to you.

TW: Degrading (Not good kind), murder, mentions of abuse, heavy mentions of blood, smut 18+, Somnophillia

taglist at bottom!!!

As you studied Shigaraki more and more you learned that the man is a workaholic. He'd spend more nights downstairs with you, mixing unknown substances with dead or living creatures and leave in the crack of early mornings. You would shrug it off but knowing that he was so close to where you sleep kept you up at night. Before you could hear when he wandered down to you, but now that he was with you, or in the room closest to you with syringes, it caused your mind to wander with the sink and demented possibilities he'd act on.

With the bark of the stubborn cellar door down came Shigaraki for his timely "inspections". But when he came and jerked you with your arm to one of the seats where his subjects would sit and get experimented on you squirmed. "S-Shigaraki think about this please..." You begged into tiny whispers.

"Shut it." He demanded. You noticed the cold act he was giving you like when you both first met, and it scared you to say the least. Not knowing when this man would switch his emotions for any reason could cause problems for you getting out.

You wriggled, trying to find anything you could use to act as self-defense but when you found nothing in reach it was too late as Shigaraki tightened the tattered, worn-out restraints. "Shigra-" "Listen to me and listen good." He warned, Closing in on the minimal space between you two.

"I'm gonna give you back what I stole from you on ONE condition."

"You work for the League of Villains." He proposed. You sat frozen, questioning.

"What if I deny this..." You poked. You didn't know if you wanted your quirk back. You found that life without a quirk left you feeling lighter. You found it sort of relaxing in a demented way. Your quirk was really the only thing tying you to your father who may or may not be dead. But knowing Shigaraki, he'd probably completely disregard your feelings about the matter and give you an ultimatum anyway.

"Well, I'm sure your father would be very disappointed to hear that. And you wouldn't want to disappoint him, would you?" He slyly added before motioning a hand to the cellar door.

Your attention flew to the unhatched door, nerved and not at all curious as to who was the invited guest.

"Y/n?.." A familiar broad voice boomed. Your eyes flew wide as the man you thought was dead, trampled down the stairs with a sinister smile. Shigaraki slicked behind you as your father made empty space, surrounding you.

"tsk, tsk, tsk." He bantered.

"Y/n... Of all the years I spent raising you to be my best creation you end up tied to a chair inside some cellar, a S-Rank skank to the enemy." He pitied.

"F-father..?" you gasp out. You felt your chest heaving as the room went dizzy. All you could see was the image of your looming father, walking towards you.

"Use it." Shigaraki whispered behind you. His voice lingering around you as you saw his text flying around your skull. You didn't fail to notice the ongoing headache you developed due to the stress.

"S-Stop!" You yelped. You didn't really know who you were aiming the order at but both men had your attention as your father stopped the clacking of his favorite shoes, he'd use to stomp his victims head into the ground.

His eyes flared of raging heat as he grunted.

"You think you have dominion now that you're not in my possession?! I own you! I created you Y/n!" Your father monologued. You went blank as you reoccurred the endless amounts or torture you endured trying to get his approval. Trying to earn his love, love a father would have naturally for their children. You remember dreaming of the day your father would look at you and show you the affection you craved as a child.

You were sent back to reality as a red searing slap made its way across your face.

"Answer me!" He repeated as he crossed your face with marks of rage. You balled your fist, fighting the tingling sensation of death.

You broke the tension of holding back as you flung your hand up, breaking the leather restraint and instead aiming at your "father" whose eyes struck instant fear.

His body flung back as you felt your power surge back into your body. You instantly felt the shock and heavy feeling of the newly gained power.

"You don't have power over me anymore you money hungry pig." You barked at him. He tried to reach for you, as he was slowly being choked by the ongoing force of your hold. Your hand tightened against the force, making the hold on that man harder.

Shigaraki could do nothing but share a grin that you grew to find comforting in the moment. "I think you taught me something valuable father, keep your friends close but your enemies closer." You played as you forcefully dragged him closer.

You bored your eyes into him, seeing the life in his eyes fleeting, but you wanted it to last, like the endless nights in fear and restraint he'd have you in.

"Are there any last words father?" You blankly added. His eyes grew big as he choked up and pleaded for life. "Y-Y/N I AM YOUR FATHER!" He barked as you let your other hand free.

With a swift you swung open the cabinets of syringes that Shigaraki locked up tight and summoned them behind you.

"That's a bad choice of last words father." You teased, flashing him a sinister smile as you swung your hand forward towards him, causing the syringes to fly in a flash towards your helpless father.

You yelled in agony as you used all your might to make sure he could feel every prick of needles engraving into his flesh. He rumbled the room with his screams. Screams that you had never thought was possible with your father.

You felt yourself losing consistency as your world started fading slightly, but you were determined to see this through to the end. You let out a raspy chuckled as you saw your father fall limp, both of his eyes unreadable as syringes replaced them. Blood splattered the floor as you held him suspended in the air.

A sudden clap orcastrated the room as Shigaraki made his way to the center of the bloodied room. "Wow, you realllllllly put your point across." He slyly slid in a pun. You ignored it, only finding your grasp becoming weaker and your vision fading slowly. You let go of your forceful grip and listened as your father's dead body fell to the ground with a disgusting splat.

"Don't worry you can take a quick nap, you'll need all the energy you can get once you wake up." He spoke as he watched your eyes became droopy and sagged with sleep.

{-------------------------------------------------------------}

You shot up in a cold sweat, the memories of what horrors you committed catching up with you. As you reveled in your actions you noticed how your feet were no longer chained to the cold, rusted chain it always was.

"S-shigaraki?..."

slicence.

You don't know why you found yourself calling out to him but you didn't get a reply anyway. You decided to get up and look for some form of life in the trapped cellar. When your soft footsteps rounded the corner, you noticed how the scene you created before you blacked out was gone. Your disfigured father was nowhere to be found, and the bloody mess that you had created was also gone. Puzzled you looked at the slightly cracked cellar door. You saw how blue hues sprayed the dingy cellar. Hesitantly you made your way up the cracked and bloodied stairs to catch another hardy glimpse of movement. You stopped in your tracks, thinking you might've made a grave error that'll cost you your life. You already knew that if Shigaraki caught you getting this close to the exit, he might take up the offer of death that has lingered around him ever since you've met him.

"Come on up." His raspy voice rang. you thought you had been sneaky enough to be unnoticeable but alas, you weren't. You shamefully stampeded up the stairs waiting for Shigaraki to meet your face with a palm but where you opened the hatch and poked your head out you found nothing.

The area was completely empty. The bar stools ringed with the same common scraped red, and the floors showed no sign of feet being pounded on it. The only sign that people were even present was Shigaraki and the minor trail of dried blood. You tried not to notice it as you made your way to Shigaraki, whose face went back to being as unpleased and uninterested as usual.

"Now that your apart of the League of Villains there's no need to stay down there." He spoke, his hands slyly behind his back. Your face showed mix feelings of suspicion and fear. A part of you wanted to just play along with it, but the other part saw the exit of this hell hole not too far from you and just wants to book it.

Now that you have your powers back nothing can really prevent you from leaving. From what you knew, Shigaraki's quirk was very limited when distance was created between him and his targets, while yours could be ranged, close-up, and far away.

Conflicted, you argued with yourself, failing to see how close Shigaraki was getting to you.

"You seem very... in thought." "If you're thinking of escaping, go ahead. But know this-" Shigaraki warned. He closely leaned in, pinning you to an invisible wall. Your body caged in a tiny space with Shigaraki.

"I'll always find you."

"No matter where you run, hide. Doesn't matter, I'll always be three steps ahead of you." He planted a small bite on your ear, letting you know that you were his prey and slowly closing in on you. You shuddered and whimpered under the sensation of him nibbling on your earlobe.

He picked up on your small petty sounds and played into it, using his body to cause friction to your lower region. You squirmed, a mix of pleasure and want falling into your eyes.

You watched as Shigaraki's lips grew closer to yours as you leaned into his lips. In your mind you begged your body to stop, to not feed the enemy, not feed the man that caged you like this. But your body wanted to act first and regret later, so when Shigaraki's lips infiltrated yours and his legs made a smooth rhythm against your pussy your mind melted allowing your body to fall into his touch.

You both closed your eyes, letting your moans and gasp for air fill the room.

"You're so sweet y/n..." Shigaraki whispered into your neck. You grasp onto his fluffed hair, following his head as it trailed lower.

"Boss were home!-" A break in the intense sex filled atmosphere shook the both of you. You opened your eyes, flicking yourself out of the hazy action you almost gave your body permission to do. "Damnit..." Shigaraki cursed. He reluctantly let go of you, leaving only a small peck on your neck before turning his head to face the intruders.

You pushed past him quickly, ignoring the possessive glint that flashed in his face. He steadied himself, fixing his more than noticeable hard-on. "Boss?-" Another uninterested voice rang through the bar.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Shigaraki huffed. Before he met with the two interlopers he gave your ass a mighty smack, earning a small yelp out of you while your face grew warm.

You watched as Shigaraki made himself known, watching how the blonde girl's eyes traced further from Shigaraki's conversation and onto you, who was hiding behind the hallway.

"Is that the girl Tomura?" She peered curiously. She pointed in your direction as you came out of your cover.

The black-haired stitch faced man shrugged. "She was meant to be a surprise, but yeah Toga, that's her." Shigaraki mumbled. You stood puzzled as the blonde-haired Toga girl made her first move toward you.

"H-hi, I'm-" You spoke before Toga interrupted.

"Y/n?" She giggled, handing her hand out to you.

"Yeah, and your Toga?" You greeted, half smiling to show acquaintance to the strange girl. She happily took your hand, shaking it and looking at you bubbly.

"So, this is our new recruit, huh?" The colder one spoke. His attitude was chilling but also care-free. You watched his eyes for a negative sign, but then you remembered that everyone in the room reeked of negative energy.

"She'll be very useful, if that's what your implying Dabi." Shigaraki reassured. You peeked between Shigaraki and Dabi. You and Toga watched as Shigaraki and Dabi shared a glare.

"Well y/n, since your one of us, you should join us on a mission."

"No." Shigaraki abruptly added.

"No? Why not?" Toga whined. "You said she was a new recruit. And you've been hiding her all this time."

"She's just reawakened her power, she needs proper training to restore her true strength." Shigaraki concluded.

"How did you give me my power back exactly Shigaraki?" You questioned. The rooms attention turned to you.

Shigaraki smiled crookedly, leaning back into you.

"It's a secret." He leaned back away, winking.

"Well if were done for the day I'm gonna sleep, I'm zooted." Dabi spoke to Shigaraki as he sluggishly walked to his room.

"Me too, that body you had us carry was way heavy!" Toga reveled.

You watched as the two exited the bar.

Shigaraki snapped out of the sudden daze he fell in, grabbing your arm and bringing you to the place where you guessed you'd be sleeping for the night.

"Is this my room?" You questioned. Shigaraki nodded, unsure if he should make the next move, he was thinking about making.

You spun around the room, finding yourself in awe over how much better it was than your room when you lived with your wrenched father.

"Get some sleep" He shared with a sigh as he made his way out of the room.

You hesitantly grabbed his wrist, not really understanding why.

"...Thank you." You expressed, looking at the floor while hanging onto his sleeve.

You didn't see how Shigaraki shared a slight and hazy blush. You let go, turning around to finally make yourself at peace for the night.

{----------------------------------}

Shigaraki's clock flashed 3:00 A.M but he knew it was way too late to sleep. At least for him.

He found himself frustrated sexually and literally. He distinctly remembered your figure against him, your heavy breaths and how your eyes lingered on his while he kissed down your neck.

The though of you got him riled up. He knew he needed to fix this need, needed to satiate it for the night. He needed to taste you.

He found himself sneaking out of his door, making his way down the hall and stopping at your room.

"This is so fucked." He sighed, realizing that actions like this feed his other bad habits. He cracked open your door, regret gliding into the back of his head, watching your sleeping body rest and lay peacefully. He watched your chest rise and set, noticing your t-shirt strap slid down your shoulder with ease, teasing him and calling him to make himself known.

He finally shook off his hesitation and decided to strike inside your bed. He watched your resting state for a while before reaching his hand out to clench onto your breast. He shivered under the feeling, making sure you were fully asleep before he started kneading your hardening nipple.

"Y/n, your body's so slutty with how it reacts to me." He whispered. He let his other hand move to your pussy, unveiling the wet cavern that awaited him. He felt his stiffening cock get painfully harder. "Look at what you do to me y/n. So, So, naughty~" He spoke, holding your limp hand to his cock.

He retracted his hand from your leaky pussy, smelling and tasting your essence on his tongue.

"So tasty..." He suckled. He plunged his mouth with his fingers to get every bit of you off of his fingers. He freed his cock from his pants, letting his cock hang free while he faced his earned attention to your tight, wet nethers. Shigaraki let out a sigh of breath onto your pussy, watching the way your body twitched under his breath.

He let out a small proportion of his tongue to lap up your cunt. You wriggled under him, his slim hands keeping your thighs steady as he started feasting on you.

Your taste was so intoxicating to him that he couldn't hold back. He tried to hide his moans desperately in your pussy, finding that the vibrations bouncing from his voice onto your clit made you wetter.

"Are you going to cum? Naughty Y/n." "I'll let you cum, be a good girl and cum in your sleep." Shigaraki moaned into you, slurping and sucking at you.

He didn't fail to notice how your cunt tightened up around him in no time, almost like it was listening to his commands.

Within seconds your needy cunt was splashing Shigaraki's face with cum. If his eyes could be replaced with hearts his would be heart filled with how much he loved the tangy taste of your cum. You groaned in your sleep, probably conscious of the sexual sensation that has just pierced through you.

Shigaraki lapped up the last of your fleeting cum, cleaning you up quickly and planting small kisses on your face before making his exit, you laying unaware and peaceful.

{-------------------------}

Taglist:

@cherlynono ((IM SO SORRY I keep forgetting that you want to be taglisted. Ima try to keep up on it, promise!!!))

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marrowfrog00 · 9 months ago

Text

Less Perfect [s.h.]

summary: Fem reader has it out with her imperfect, adulterous cad of a man Steve Harrington - but there is always more than meets the eye, no?

cw: 18+ mdni; implied/allusions to smut but no actual smut takes place, discussions of cheating, angst, toxic partner dynamics, arguing, name-calling, mentions of shitty parents, trauma, role-play, aftercare, anxiety, jealousy, hurt/comfort, use of perjorative "skank", use of petnames (sarcastic & sincere), home-grown therapy, kinda, very dialogue heavy, kitchen sink drama, fluff disguised as angst, really it's so fuckin' soft, lmk if I missed anything

wc: 2.7k

A/N: I honestly don't know what this is, my brain just burped her out and she's weird as shit. Please be nice, she's just a baby (and I'm just a three-legged orange cat with an internet connection). Reiterating that this is very dialogue heavy so if that's not your thing, carry on your merry way.

The metal tips of your stilettos clacked against the lacquered floors of the hallway as you speed walked, passing expensive wall-to-wall oil paintings and accent tables topped with vases full of immaculate flowers.

Alabaster sprays of hydrangeas (white, always white, so as not to clash with the surroundings) and dahlias mocked you from crystal vases as you stomped angrily toward the main bedroom, Steve hot on your tail.

"Don't walk away from me, pumpkin," he spat from behind you.

You guffawed as you stormed into the bedroom, making to slam the heavy mahogany door in his face. Steve was quick, though. An ex-athlete, afterall. He stopped the door with his hand and sneered, yes, sneered at you.

"Piss off, darling," you barked, turning your back to him.

You clopped heavily to the vanity and removed your earrings, chucking them carelessly onto the table. You opened the drawer and pawed through the contents looking for makeup wipes, plonking down onto the plush upholstered stool.

Steve glared at you and you could swear you heard his teeth grinding from where you sat. Commit, commit. Where the hell were those fucking wipes?

"You're goddamn unbelievable, you know that?"

"Me?" you shot back , voice laced with disbelief.

Steve cocked his hip and put his hand there. "Yeah, you. Ya see anyone else in this room?" he asked, gesturing around the swank sleeping quarters. Impeccable color story, not a speck of dust to be found in the place.

You stood from the stool, slowly, like a big cat ready to strike down her prey. Your gaze was mean and piercing as you stalked forward on high-heeled feet. You watched Steve take half a step back, mentally high-fiving yourself. This was good, this was forward motion.

Your voice dripped with rancorous sarcasm when you replied, "Well, gee, I dunno, darling. You could have been speaking to whichever one of your office skanks has your dick mesmerized this week."

Steve dropped his hand to his side, straightening his spine.

You pursed your lips and rolled your eyes to the ceiling, pretending to conjure a name. "Dana? Diane? Kimberly? Kathy?"

"Come off it," Steve gritted out, fists balling at his sides. His eyes, those gorgeous, unreal russet eyes that had captured your heart once upon a time narrowed on you. "You can act like a crazy bitch in public or in my fucking house. Pick one."

You couldn't help but laugh at him, shaking your head incredulously.

"You're not even going to deny it this time?" you asked, crossing your arms. "You used to give me the false courtesy of sparing my feelings, but I guess I've run out of favors from you."

You watched Steve's shoulders locked up as his face twitched ever so slightly. His eyes glazed over a little, like he'd gone somewhere else. Shit. Reset.

You swallowed harshly and busied yourself, smoothing the front of your dress as you kept one eye on his face, waiting.

Steve shook his head quickly like he was shaking off his very thoughts as he swaggered closer to you, invading your space and looking down his nose. Down at your face. Your pretty, soft face.

He remembered the first time he ever got a look at you up close, your eyes looked sparkly and he'd had the insane urge to bite your cheek. Right now, your eyes were dull with uncertainty and your biteable cheeks were slack under your frown.

He felt his heart kick up as he choked out his next words. "You wanna talk about favors, huh?" He cleared his throat, willing his voice to come out thicker, with more bravado. "Let's talk about how you like to act like everything you do for me is a favor. How every fuck, every blow job, every time you stoop so low as to look my way anymore is a favor as far as your concerned."

Adrenaline started washing over your body as you fought to stay in the moment. You could see the regret in his eyes and you wondered if you were careening toward scorched earth territory. You futzed with your shaking hands, unable to decide what to do with them before you crammed them under your armpits to still them.

You glanced at Steve's chest, clocking his quickened breathing. You could see how upset he was, feeling the intensity radiating off him where he stood just inches away. It was time to change course, to shock him out of the frenzy he was working himself into.

You glanced at the enormous four poster bed, festooned with a silky cream duvet and rich red throw pillows when an idea struck you. You looked back up at him, pinned under his expectant gaze. He was grinding his teeth.

"Did you fuck them in our bed?"

Steve was taken aback. He glanced between you and that stupid, giant bed - a varitable chasm, a luxurious, oversized token of a failed union. He was struck dumb, scarcely comprehending the question.

"Huh?"

To say you had gone off-script would be an understatement. Not that there was a script as such, but the story beats tended to be locked in everytime.

You took a deep breath and squared your shoulders, a renewed sense of purpose taking you over. "Your office skanks. The ones you've been generously donating your dick to. Did you fuck them in our bed?" you asked again, enunciating your words.

Steve blinked at you with wide eyes. "The hell kinda question is that, pumpkin?"

You softened your gaze on him and grazed his perfect jaw with your finger before stalking over to the bed. Steve watched as you gripped one of the bed posts and placed a hand on your hip. You looked like a showroom model, drawing his attention to where you stood.

Steve felt the gnawing in his stomach that had been building subside a little as he took you in. You looked so classy, so pretty, so sexy in that satin dress, in those black stockings. Your hair, which had been styled to perfection for tonight had gone a little flat, a tiny bit of mascara flaking under one eye.

He liked you best like this. The veneer of flawlessness cracked just enough to let him in. A little less perfect.

Your gaze was still soft and open and he gestured for you to continue. Satisfied, you lifted your chin and flexed your jaw.

"Did you fuck them in our bed, darling? I deserve to know."

You sat primly on the tufted bench at the foot of the bed, legs crossed, hands planted on either side of you.

Steve gulped, feeling the ice returning to his veins but he knew he needed to press on. This was the sweet spot. He ignored the noodly feeling in his legs, strutting over to where you sat and plopped down next to you.

He looked in your eyes. "Yes."

"All of them?" you asked softly.

Steve couldn't stop the tears building as he forced himself to keep looking at you, a spectral sense of shame that he had never picked up but that he nevertheless carried searing his neck and cheeks.

"Just Dana. Er, Diane? A-and, Kimberly," he stuttered.

You couldn't help yourself then, giving his pinky finger a little tickle with your own and you felt your own tears building. Seeing him cry always got to you a little, but you were getting better about it. You kept your face steely as you quickly wiped them away and you sniffed.

"Did they let you fuck them in the ass?"

"Everytime."

"And that's why you did it? To get back at me because I wouldn't let you have my ass?"

"Partly," he whispered back, thickly.

You blinked back more tears and cleared your throat. "What's the other part?"

Steve flinched as he propped his elbows on his knees, fixing his eyes on the ground. He gripped his hair meanly between his fingers. His voice was thick and strained with emotion, but the words flowed easily then.

"The other part is that I'm a shallow, hollow, status-obsessed creep that cares more about pretty, shiny new things...and more about my empty family legacy than I do about my family."

You kept your hands in your lap even though you ached to reach out and touch him, to pull him back to you. Instead, you sniffled softly so as not to disturb the man beside you as he continued.

"Even when I'm home, I'm somewhere else. I should have stayed alone since that's clearly what I wanted all along. Spendy liquor and cheap lays."

You pressed your nails into your palm, worried about how still he was, still itching to touch him. You didn't. You listened to his voice become thinner, straining through stifled sobs.

"But instead I found you and snatched you away from whatever life you could have had instead. I married you and broke you and put your pieces in a little box. And you just took it and I think part of me hates you for that. And I punish you for it. I punish everyone for it."

He sobbed then, shoulders slumping. You bit your lip and tapped your foot, jonesing to touch him.

Steve scrubbed his tears away and violently inhaled the snot back into his sinuses. He watched the pointy toe of your heel tap tap tap on the ground.

The dam had broken again after how many times of this and he was wrung out. Done. There was a finality to this, he felt. Like this might have pushed him over that finish line that he'd been seeking for so long.

"Fuck..babe..fu-pomegranate," he whimpered.

"Pomegranate?" you repeated back in a tiny voice.

"Pomegranate."

You stood abruptly and walked between his spread thighs. His eyes were pinched shut as he tried to call back the tears that left angry, red rivulets down his cheeks.

You gently raked your fingers through his hair, straightening it gently, lovingly. "Can you look at me, baby?"

He sniffled again and shook his head abruptly. "In a minute. S'too much right now. But hold me, please, honey?"

You pulled him into you, cradling his head to your chest and stroking his back while he clung to your waist. After a moment you pressed your mouth to the crown of his head.

"Let's breathe now."

"M'okay," he said in a little voice, clearly not wanting to loosen his grip on you.

"No, love. Remember? We said," you chastised gently. "It's important. Just a few."

You led him through a handful of deep breaths, never ceasing your loving hold on him, peppering your counting with praise for him.

Slowly, Steve stood and hooked his arms around yours pinning them to your sides. You pushed your hands into back pockets of his slacks as he finally looked at you. You propped your chin on his chest and gazed back, a soft smile making it's way on both your faces.

"Hi," he whispered down at you.

"Hi," you returned. "We good?"

In spite of how exhausted he was, he wore a grin of what almost looked like elation as he nodded at you. The life had returned to his eyes, red though they were.

"Thank you, honey," he breathed gratefully as he rocked you.

You kissed his chest. "You don't need to thank me."

He tilted your chin up to meet your eyes again. "No, I really, really do. I feel kind of greedy sometimes. Asking you for this."

You cocked your head at him and shook your head lightly, willing him to understand how serious you were when you told him, "It's for us, love. I'd rather do this with you then have you carry all this with you for years and then-"

You didn't care to finish that thought. You didn't like to think about what you'd once worried would happen. That you and this man, the love of your life, would have to sit on a festering boil of his pain until it exploded one day, tossing you so far away from one another that you would never make it back into each other's arms.

Maybe from the outside these little exercises would have appeared weird or fucked up. But when Steve had confided his fears in Robin and she suggested role-play after watching an episode of Donahue, he thought screw it. He'd rather try that than do nothing and watch you slip away from him. Plus he knew that you wouldn't make him feel bad for asking. And wouldn't you know it, you heartily agreed.

You adored him for his sincerity, for being so vulnerable in asking you. You'd started out very mild, very slow. Sitting through tense dinner scenarios at first. Then graduating to little arguments in the car. Always structured, always negotiated beforehand.

When Steve's parents asked him to housesit while they jetted off again, he brought this idea to you. The pièce de résistance. Acting out a big blowout, an opera of hurt feelings inside the very walls where all his worst fears had spawned.

And it appeared now that your joint commitment (and the risk you'd taken going off-script and escalating the storyline) had paid off. The relief was palpable for you both.

Steve glanced around the room and made a noise of disgust. "Let's get out of here, honey."

You took his hand and you two started strolling leisurely toward the exit. You swung your linked hands, Steve passively taking in the features and layout of the house one more time for posterity.

You were both beyond ready to return to the little two-bedroom apartment you both shared with Robin on the other side of town. Sometimes it was drafty, it was always a little cramped, it was entirely furnished with second-hand stuff, mismatched tchotchkes and relics from three mismatched childhoods. There was a yellow stain in the shape of Rhode Island over the fridge. Oh, and the shower faucet handle was broken off, so you had to use a wrench to turn it on. You two couldn't wait to get back there.

"How mad do you think Moth is gonna be that we've been gone for three days?" you asked, pressing your nose into Steve's bicep as he locked the front door to Harrington Penitentiary. He glanced down at the key in his hand and chucked it carelessly into a flower bed.

Steve snickered at your question, grasping your hand again as you walked to the car. He opened the passenger door for you, lovingly protecting your head with one hand as you ducked into your seat.

"I think we should prepare for the possibility that he's officially Robin's cat now and we've been demoted to godparent status."

You grinned and giggled through closed lips, your cheeks full and glowing with the force of it. Steve couldn't help himself. He ducked down and delighted in the shriek you let out when he gave your cheek a little love bite before tucking your legs in and shutting your door for you.

When he was in the driver's seat, he paused, key at the ignition. You rolled your head against the headrest to look at him.

"Know what I wanna do when we get home?" he mused, looking up to meet your eye.

Your eyes sparkled at him, a placid smile on your pretty mouth, which he returned. "Hm?"

"I wanna get you out of that dress and eat you out. Those shoes stay on for that part," he said, eyes flicking to your feet. He reached over and caressed your face with his thumb as you softened into his touch. "Then I wanna hold you real close and make love." He brushed some flaky mascara away from your eye. "After that I'll put you in that goofy, giant shirt you love sleeping in..."

You rolled your eyes but smiled. "It's not goofy," you muttered in faux-offense.

Steve grinned wryly. "It's got a picture of a cactus with sunglasses and a cowboy hat and I'm pretty sure you completely disappeared inside of it one night." You giggled again.

Steve's face smile softened. "And then we'll go to sleep. And, in like a year, I wanna ask you to marry me - properly, I mean- and I want you to say yes."

Your eyes didn't leave his as you grabbed his hand and pressed sweet kisses into each of his knuckles.

"Yes, baby. Yes to all of it."

"Good."

You swapped rounds of deep kisses and whispered I love you's before Steve drove you home.

#steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #stranger things #stranger things x reader

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wannawrasslewithjayrasheed · 1 year ago

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The Go Home Show, March 23rd, 1998

The March 23rd episode opens with a Stone Cold promo. He instantly tells Kevin Kelly to shut up because he doesn't want to listen. He mentions what Vince said last week about being champion, and he cant be molded into anything else. Austin will continue to do whatever he wants whenever he wants and nobody can do a damn thing about it. Austin is looking ahead to Mania.

Slaughter informs Austin that he in fact DOESNT have the night off and will compete tonight and then he does his "Thats an order'' gimmick sayin Mr. McMahon gave the order. He then announces his opponent in The Rock and Austin replies "that's fine, he'll walk through all the trash". Slaughter then tells Austin that if he doesn't wrestle tonight he'll forfeit his main event at WrestleMania.

Stone Cold has to remind Slaughter he just said he would wrestle the match..in a moment of getting annoyed he hits Sgt. Slaughter with a Stunner and i kid you not the man did a front flip. Old men just don't bump for the stunner like they used to.

Later on in the night DX comes out to cut a promo. First Triple H wants to see footage from last week and we see his winning the championship.

Triple H says at Mania Chyna will be handcuffed to "The Chin" (not going to lie I loved all the Slaughter jokes from this time). But it wont be a factor because he owns Owen and he should just stay at home, if the black hart shows up to Wrestlemania then HHH will put him in the wheelchair for good. Shawn points out a fan at ringside and makes fun of her huge boobs and calls her a skank,

all of which didn't phase her in the least bit. He addresses the back and forth banter between Austin and McMahon and compares it to a girl fight with pinches. He said there's a cat fight booked at Mania (probably referring to Sable and Luna in their tag team match with Marc Mero and Goldust). Shawn appreciates the fact that Vince doesn't want Steve to become champ but the truth is Steve doesn't care and neither does he (Shawn). Shawn tell Steve for forget about Vince and stunning Slaughter he needs to focus on Shawn at mania and there's only one way to accomplish his 8 year dream. Shawn says he's the same age as Steve but accomplished so much more throughout his entire run but he's going to give him that one opportunity at WrestleMania. Stone Cold has to overcome Shawn and he also has to overcome one more thing...after feigning amnesia he pulls Tyson into the camera frame and says DX's Mike Tyson is the special enforcer.

Tyson says hell knock Austin out if he gets in the way. Shawn asks Mike "who will walk out of WrestleMania STILL champion?" Mike say's

So I guess he just gave Shawn a new nickname...anyway Shawn then asks whos the baddest man on the planet and Mike says "YOU ARE HEA..." No I'm kidding he knew Shawn was referring to him he says he is. And Shawn ends it by saying DX will rule the wrestling world forever and that's his last promo at least as a performer until his return in 2002.

In the main event Rock and Austin go for a lock up and Rock gets Steve in the corner,

Austin flips it around and breaks the hold flipping Rocky off as only Steve can. After more back n forth the camera cuts to DX watching the match in their locker room.

The Rock gets Austin down but Austin pops up with a Lou Thez Press outta nowhere giving him a boost of momentum. The Rock then ducks a Stunner and bails to the outside. Austin attacks Mark to get at the Rock, he smashes Rock into the steps and once the action get back in the ring Rock begs for mercy but he gets a mudhole stomped in his ass. Rock ducks a clothes line and bails back to the outside. Austin grabs a chair to handle the members of the Nation of Domination at ringside. And while Austin is distracted Rocky comes from behind with a suprise attack and slams austin into the ring steps. Throwing him back in the ring The Rock kicks and chokes Austin in the corner, after letting up for a bit Mark Henry gets a quick choke in while the ref is distracted and the show goes to commercial break. When the commerical break is over Austin is shown having the Rock in a sleeper hold. The Rock escapes by running Austin into the corner and then boom we gets steve in the middle of the ring with the most electrifying move in sport entertainment.

Austin kicks out so Rock applies a Chinlock, no submitting so Rock goes for another peoples elbow but Steve moves out of the way. Steve hits Rock with 3 clotheslines back to back

and avoids a back body drop but caught that Stunner. Austin wins.. but D Lo tries to run and he too catches a stunner. DX music plays and they come out,

Shawn says he already turned his lights out once with Sweet Chin Music but this sunday he's going to do it one last time. He leaves for a second before coming RIGHT BACK OUT... I don't know why exactly, but he's in a huff, too took his jacket off and everything lol.

All jokes aside Vince probably told him to go back out there...or he wont get his fanny pack back (sorry I couldn't resist)

Triple h holds him back. Of course its to stall while the show goes off the air all for building anticipation for a show that really had already sold itself...

Next Stop.. WRESTLEMANIA!!!!

Are you ready?

#90s wwf #nostalgia #wwe #stone cold steve austin #shawn michaels #pro wrestling #boston #wrestlemaniaxiv #throwback #jayrasheed #wrestlingblog #wrestleblr #the rock #dwayne johnson #the undertaker

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imeverywoman420 · 2 years ago

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men can be like i wanna get stomped on the balls i need a femdom mommy to walk me on a leash i want to be forced to wear a collar

and society is like you dropped this king 👑

meanwhile if i say i like dicks so big i get scared n i like to get fucked oppa hard style. society is like u need therapy u narsty skank

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moonlight-rider25 · 2 years ago

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Winchester Girl Chapter 2

Warnings: PG13, swearing, smoking, mentions of bad relationships, fluff, angst

Present day, Massachusetts 7:47am

You swing into the driveway and slam your door shut probably more aggressively that your bank account can afford. You swing open your front door and spy Dean and Sam standing ready with concerned looks on their faces. You slam the door behind you and throw your purse onto the chair beside the door before plucking a cigarette from your pack and lighting it quickly.

"Well fuck! Sorry guys!" You say through a long exhale; white smoke dancing around your head.

The brothers remain silent as you puff agitatedly at the end of your cigarette; seemingly passing concerned and unknowing looks to each other. You sulk across the room, plopping yourself harshly down into the brown sofa before pulling your phone out. You peer at its little illuminated screen and take a long drag of the cigarette before speaking.

“You’re on your own, I can’t come..” You say with a long puff of smoke.

"Wait, what?" Dean asks, in a harsh tone.

You lock your phone screen and toss it beside you, taking another long puff from your butt.

"You're gonna have to find someone else to be your bait this time.." You say disappointedly.

Sam glides over and sits next to you on the couch trying his best to comfort you, but as always, comforting was not comforting to you in any situation. Dean, angrily stomps in place huffing, as you take another rip from your butt.

“Why the hell not?!” Dean asks all but kindly.

"Finn's dad called… he can't take him this weekend.." You say through another puff.

You allow a long silent pause as you take a few more drags from your cigarette and snuff it out in the ashtray. Sam sits with a sorrowful look towards you while Dean stands with his hands firmly on his hips, glaring in your direction.

"I'm sorry guys, I didn't mean to let you down.. again.."

"Y/N, you never let us down…" Sam tries to comfort you. Though you know lying has never been his strong suit…

You sit back against the couch and sigh, knowing if they hadn’t stopped last night they’d probably already found a new willing huntress along the way, and gotten to the vamps nest by now. You uneasily chew at your bottom lip and eye Dean as he strides over towards the oversized recliner and takes a seat. He lets out a deep sigh and palms his face, running his fingers through his hair.

“Fucking asshole can buy a half a million dollar house for his skank ass fiance, a palm beach wedding, and fucking boulder sized rock for her hand, but can’t be bothered to see his own son every other weekend…” You huff angrily through your teeth.

“Yeah, you sure know how to pick um, Y/N..” Dean replies with a scoff.

“...Hey!” Sam cuts Dean off, in efforts to defend you…or himself, you’re not completely sure.

He didn’t need to be offended, Sam hadn’t really been ‘picked’, per se, more like fate chose him for you, …after he saved your ass from being just another meal…

“Sorry guys, you’re gonna have to find someone else willing to be bait…” You tell them apologetically. "But, at least I can make you breakfast now."

Your small effort in trying to lighten the mood is pretty unhelpful, but you stand and pace towards the kitchen to begin cooking anyway.

"Y/N, we don't really have time for that.. But thank you." Sam says trailing after you in a few giant steps.

You breathe another angry sigh and brace your hands against the counter. You turn and face the two men blocking everything between you and the living room, with your arms crossed.

"We can get a babysitter…or maybe your mom can watch…" Sam mentions.

Dean meets Sam's eye and he quickly stops anymore mention of your mom.

"I can't afford a babysitter all weekend, Sam." You reply wiping at your forehead.

Dean steps forward a bit taking a seat at the table where he was with Finn earlier.

"Well the kids like, what… 10…12.. can't he stay for the weekend by himself?" Dean asks utterly and completely unknowingly.

You and Sam make eye contact, doing little to hold back the judgment on your face.

"Six Dean! He's six… so, no!"

Sam snickers a little and Dean shoots him a glare.

"Okay…then let's bring him along!" Dean mentions looking back to you.

"Absolutely not!" You and Sam both cry out at the same time.

Dean's eyes grow wide and he dramatically raises his hands up from the table.

"Alright, mom and dad,...well while you two figure out what to do with junior here,... I'm gonna make a few calls…"

Dean stands and walks back towards the living room and you hear the front door creak open then shut again.

You turn back around towards the sink and after a long moment of thinking, notice the dishes drying in the rack beside you. You eye them a bit as you run the water.

"Oh, thanks Sam. …You didn't actually have to do the dishes..." You say softly.

Sam strides slowly towards you and you turn around quickly before he has the chance to put his huge hands around your waist… a favorite move of his he always seemed to do years ago…

"I'm… sorry Sam. Really." You say coldly and abruptly as you look up towards him.

He stops in his tracks, his hands dropping to his sides before he sighs through a slight smirk.

"It's not your fault, Y/N. You're a mom first, I know…"

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. Sam scoffs and darts his eyes back and forth from you.

"I mean.. Not just a mom… more of a...hot mom?..." he adds with a slight smirk.

You allow a giggle to escape you and Sam allows his smile to unfold openly across his face.

“I’m serious though..” he adds.

His smile slowly fades as he meets your eyes.

“You’re a really good mom, Finns a good kid. And he's really, really lucky to have you..”

You hang your head and smile, before waltzing away from him, searching for your pack of cigarettes again.

The front door creaks open again and Dean's huge shoulders bob through the wooden doorway.

"Well good news and bad news.." He states in his deep tone as he latches the door behind him.

You flick your plastic pink lighter and inhale again.

"..I don't have to call out of work?" You ask through a clouded exhale..

"God, would you stop, with the smoking?! Dean states, using his hand to direct your cigarette smoke elsewhere.

Dean strides over to take a seat on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table.

"Every other chick…lady… ma’am, within a driving distance of here is MIA…so we're back to square one…” he says with a huff. “...Unless…”

Dean smiles; devilishly eyeing Sam over his shoulder. You tip your head towards Sam with an exhale as Sam stares blankly back between you and Dean, hands buried in his pockets as the realization slowly builds up in him.

"Sammy! Break out the little green army men, and comic books; you're babysitting!"

~~~~

With only a few moments of shout-arguing, as to why Sammy was the one to be assigned babysitter; you trying your best to defuse the situation in almost any means possible, then finally Sam and yourself tired of arguing with the hot head, you all reluctantly agree and are on the road towards the Vamp nest.

“So how's your sister?” Dean asks in a lighthearted voice.

“Who knows..” You reply with a scoff.

You allow the long unpleasant quietness to linger in the air for a few moments.

"Where'd you say this is?" You ask peering out the window at the passing road signs.

"New York." Dean says.

Your face lights up and bit, and he notices.

"..State.. Don't get all excited we are not doing any shopping here princess…"

You cast him a disappointed scowl.

"...What?" Dean says with a huff. "...This is not the time for a city shopping trip, no way!" He says in a defensive tone.

You whip your head to the side and stare blankly at him.

"If you're gonna be in this kind of mood all weekend, you can turn right around and drive me home." You say sternly.

Dean shakes his head from side to side, a thick devilish grin growing across his face. You read his tone and sit back in your seat with a huff.

"...Well you could at least let me smoke.."

"Don't even think about stinking up 'baby' with those…those damn cancer sticks…" Dean says as the smirk fades away from his face.

"Well!" You throw your hands up in the air with a scoff, "Can you pull over then? Just for a minute?" You ask turning back towards him.

"Y/N, it's only been a few hours, we got a lot of pavement to chase to get there before tonight." He says calmer but still in his deep Dean tone.

You cross your arms and look back out the window without saying another word.

Dean glances down at his watch and does a few double takes in your direction.

"...We'll stop soon for some grub.." Dean says lower again. "...can you wait till then?"

You sigh dramatically and try to sneak a side eye at Dean's sorrowful look you know he must have on his face right now.

"...Don't have much of a choice now, do I?" You grumble through a smirk.

Dean reaches for the volume dial and cranks it up a few notches as you both settle back into your seats. You watch as the highway signs pass by and watch your phone intently, wishing the time would pass quicker.

Roughly twenty minutes go by in silence beside the roaring of baby's wheels, and classic rock that plays from the car stereo. Dean slows the car and veers off the side of the road. He reaches down into his coat pocket and shines the silver zippo in front of your face, ready to hand it over. You smile gleefully, holding up your generic pink lighter before stepping out of the car and slipping a cigarette between your lips quickly. You suck at the little stick and feel the head rush from not having had one in some hours. You steady yourself against the car and suck long puffs. All too soon, you've sucked down to the filter and you drop the butt to the ground and stub it out with the toe of your boot.

You slide back in beside Dean and he scoffs revving the engine a bit.

"You stink." He says plainly in his Dean tone. You barely shut the door before he slams the car in drive and heads back towards the pavement.

"You stink!" You mock back, rolling your window down a bit for him. "..thank you.." You add quietly.

"You gonna quit the silent treatment with me now?" He asks still harshly, but more jokingly this time.

"Hmmm…maybe…" You add with a giggle as you peer out the window.

You reach over and turn the radio up a few notches again as an AC/DC song begins to blare over the ancient stereo. You and Dean both look at each other and allow a long awaited hearty laugh to leave your mouths.

"You really thought Sam wouldn't fight babysitting, huh?" You ask, peering from the road in front of you and back to Dean's handsome chiseled face. He has a tiny bit of stubble growing in around his mouth and you allow your stare a bit longer than you know you should, as you follow the faint trail down towards the collar of his shirt. He snaps his head back towards you with a wicked smile and you dart your eyes back up to his trying to smile calmly.

"Nah, he's just better at it.." Dean says before looking back towards the road.

You sigh and join him looking out through the windshield at the cracked worn road.

"Oh please…" you say, shifting in your seat a bit. "...we all know ‘daddy Dean’ is just a big teddy bear at heart.." You say confidently.

"Daddy Dean, huh?..." He smiles, snapping his head back towards you for a brief second. "..I like when you talk dirty to me…"

You reach over and playfully push his face away and he chuckles a bit, straightening in his seat.

"I'm serious!" You say through a chuckle of your own.

"I can vividly recall all the times you'd pluck Finn from his highchair and dance with him in the kitchen while making bacon…" you say, recalling the events as if they happened only a few days ago.

You peer over seeing the faint grin on Dean's face as he also can recall the events. You smile down towards your lap and reminisce in the memories that dance through your head.

“...What was that song you used to play all the time?” He asks in a charming tone.

“Banana pancakes!” you blurt out. “I love that song!”

“I hate that song..” Dean says in unison with you. “...Jack Johnonson, disgrace to musicians everywhere…” he jokes with a smile still on his lips.

“Come on, it wasn't that bad..” You add through a giggle.

“Oh it was!..” Dean shakes his head staring out the windshield. “...I only let you play it, cuz Finn liked it…”

You bop your head a bit in your seat, turning back out towards your window.

“...Can’t you see, it's just raaiin…nin….” you hum under your breath.

“...Ain't no need to go outside…” Dean adds after a long pause.

Your smile widens across your face as you flash your head around towards Dean; his eyes darting back and forth across the road.

“It’s a stupid song!” he says, still smirking. “Who even likes pancakes?! Waffles are where it's at!”

You giggle quietly to yourself and look ahead again.

“Especially ‘Banana’ pancakes… if anything…chocolate chip! I mean come on!”

You allow a long cackle spill from your lips, and lean forward in your seat a bit. Dean eyes darting between you and the road, as you try to calm your fit of laughter a bit.

“You know, I… I really miss you guys..” you say, allowing your unguarded words to linger in the air for a moment without meeting Dean's look.

“...Yeah, we miss you guys too..” he says after a long pause.

His giant palm reaches out and tenderly pats your thigh; you swallow hard and freeze. You stare out the window beside you as you feel the red heat rush into your face, enjoying his huge, rough, warm hand resting heavily on your little thigh next to him. You can’t help but give into the fact that any touch from him makes your heart race and your pulse quicken. You try to calm yourself as the overwhelming, senseless urge; to grab him by his chiseled broad jaw, and collide his perfect plump little pink lips against yours, burns in your chest.

He leaves his hand on your leg for what feels like an eternity, but in reality it was probably just a few seconds. Finally, and although regrettable as much as reliving; Dean retracts his hand back and grips at the wheel. You allow a long exhale to escape you as you try to hide the shiver gyrating through you as you straighten your pant legs and pull out your phone. You click the home button and peer down reading ‘0 New Notifications’ and the time reading ‘10:49am’ before sliding it back into your jeans pocket.

“Hang in there, just about an hour to go before we stop for lunch..” Dean says casting you a dreamy apologetic look.

You settle back in and stare out towards the windshield at the road before ‘baby’, reminiscing about the times that now seem so far from your grasp…

~~~~

The faded sign on the front of the rundown dinner screams ‘food poisoning’, but you know it's no use trying to urge Dean to go elsewhere. You both step out from the car and hear the doors slam shut behind you. Digging down into your purse you grab a cigarette out of its pack and place it between your lips. Dean meets your eye, gesturing he’ll meet you inside and you suck deep inhales of the cigarettes poison nectar; unlocking your phone screen and ensuring you have no missed calls or messages from Sammy. Inside, you motion to Dean, you're running to the bathroom and he casts you an impatient look.

You wash your hands and freshen your appearance before turning and heading back out.

Dean's face looks pissed, per usual and you apologize under your breath before sitting down across from him. He slides the discolored scratched up plastic menu in front of you, and you flip slowly through its waxy pages.

“You didn’t get any calls from Sam, did you?” You ask, grazing through the menu.

“No, should I have?” Dean asks with a cold tone.

“No! No, I just wanted to make sure..” You close the menu tapping your fingers impatiently against the confetti resin tabletop. “I just want to make sure Finns alright…” your voice trails off as Dean motions the waitress over to your table.

“...You know what you want right?...” he asks, plucking the menu away and handing them irritably with a huff to the heavy set waitress.

Your eyes grow wide; realizing you hadn’t even considered food yet.

“What can I get ya..” the large woman asks in a grumpy unpleasant voice.

“I’ll take a double bacon cheeseburger with a side of fries, and what the hell…” Dean says in a quick breath.. “...Extra large Chocolate milkshake.” he adds with a wink to the woman.

She presses hard against her pad of paper in her hand and tilts her glasses back up on her face before looking over towards you;

“And for the Mrs.?..”

Yours and Dean's eyes meet for a second before he clears his throat and blushes a bit.

“Oh no, we’re not..” You try to express plainly. “..I’ll just take a house salad..” You say after tripping over your explanation.

Dean fidgets in his seat, clearly uncomfortable.

“..Sorry honey, we’re out of iceberg...” The waitress states pushing her glasses up her nose again.

‘Oh, alright…ummm.” You peer over to Dean who flashes you another impatient look.

“How about the chicken salad?.. On a brochure bun?” you ask hopefully.

“We’ve got bread..” she says scribbling at her pad.

“That's fine.” you add quickly.

“Wheat, rye, or white?...” She asks.

“Actually, know what… Scratch the chicken salad, can I just get a grilled cheese, white bread, and a side of pickles?”

The woman irritatedly scratches out the line on her pad and jots the new order down.

Dean flashes you a look of disappointment and you scrunch your smile upside down a bit.

“Drink?” the lady states coldly.

Dean sighs and palms his face with a sigh. You nod in agreement and look back up at the lady with a big smile.

“...Any chance, you got any spirits?”...

The dinner's speaker system squeaks with local ads as you sit in your chair chomping small loud bites from your pickle. Your second vodka soda sits on the edge of the table near your arm; nearly empty again, as you stare off over Dean's shoulder. He sits back in his seat staring out the window. One arm hangs beside him while the other is propped up on the back of a metal chair. You take another tiny bite of your cold cheese sandwich and close your eyes, chewing thoughtfully as you feel your buzz rise in your chest.

“I can’t believe you still eat that crap..” He states with a chuckle.

Interrupting your empty thoughts, you blink your eyes a few times before meeting him.

“Me? What about you, Mr. Two pounds of bacon a day…” You reply, dropping your pickle on your plate and wiping your fingertips.

“I’m surprised you haven't had a heart attack yet!”

Dean chuckles a bit again.

“Ah, we’re all gonna die one way, or another…” He says gruffly, taking a gulp from his milkshake.

A taylor swift song comes on over the squeaky speaker and you begin bouncing your head a bit to the beat of the music. Dean stares at you disapproving and you flash him a slight smirk as you chew with your lips closed. His eyes quickly fall from you back out the window; clearly set on something coming through the dinners front door. You stop your head bobbing and swallow the dry cheese down, with the last sip of your drink and place the cup near the edge of the table, hopeful for one more refill.

Behind you, the doors chime as you hear the high pitched giggles of customers coming in and walking up to the bar in the front. You roll your eyes and glare a bit from the side towards the group of presumably jailbait girls seated at the counter.

Probably skipping school for some ‘pop’, or maybe even ice cream you imagine.

Dean's eyes are locked on the group of girls; who are squealing with excitement and giggling, while talking to the heavy set woman behind the counter. You look straight ahead towards him shooting him a very disapproving look. His tongue darts out and drags across his bottom lip as he watches them. You grab your cup sitting at the end of the table and swirl the melted ice around a bit slurping at the tiny remnants of anything in the cup. You reach over and poke him in the chest. His gleaming eyes, meeting yours after a long pause.

“Put your tongue back in your mouth, grandpa..” you tease him, placing the cold plastic cup back down.

His gaze wavers back between you and the girls sitting precariously on their bar stools.

“Oh stop, you’re just jealous.” he tells you, still staring intently.

Your hand falls a bit harder than you had anticipated and you clear your throat avoiding Dean's look.

“Easy there killer, it was just a joke..” he teases watching you fumble a bit to recover.

“You're despicable.” You say with a scowl on your face. “Those are children!”

You peer back over towards the group; correct they indeed were in getting some ice cold pop… as children would be…

The large woman's eyes; meet yours and you gesture to the cup again. She rolls her eyes dramatically, not trying to hide it any bit and makes her way over to the table again. Dean's head snaps up when she intersects his view and he gives you a concerned look of disapproval.

“You really think you need a third?” he says through his tight lips and glaring eyes.

“What? I’m not driving!” you state plainly with a shrug.

The lady pours you another vodka soda, spilling half the soda and leaving the rest of the can on the table.

“Oh, um… can you leave the bottle too?” you ask kindly.

She drops the bottle back down on the table and Dean's look is tearing through you as you sip through your little red straw, while adding more of the cheap vodka to your cup.

“I don’t wanna hear it…” You tell him, taking a test sip of your drink. “You have your flaws…” you add, eyeing the jailbait group of girls at the bar, “..I have mine..”

A long pause settles between you and Dean as he sits back in his seat trying his best to stop eying the girls.

“Well..” he says with a long heavy breath. “...At least you’re not a puker..”

“You would know..” you add quickly through eager sips.

Dean's eyes meet yours and you try your best to paint a pleasant face for him. He reaches his hand up behind his head and rubs at the back of his huge broad neck for a long moment before you finally see the smile creeping across his cheeks. You finish the cup quickly and refill it, picking at Deans fries which are cold now.

Before long you get up and use the restroom again before meeting Dean back out at the car. The bright hot sunlight burns your eyes as you step out of the dinner. You pluck your oversized shades from your purse and plop them over your face before reaching for the pack of cigarettes. Flipping open the little red box, you’re down to three left. Eagerly awaiting the disapproval of Dean when you’ll have to ask him to stop for more.

Dean taps impatiently out his window and you suck at the butts filter harder, trying to fill your craving before hopping back into the car for who knows how long. You settle in and Dean peels back out onto the highway with the radio turned up and the windows down. You pull back your hair, and strap it in a messy bun on top of your head to keep the wind from whipping it all around. You grab your phone out of your jean pocket again and peer down at the time ‘1:45pm. Soon, Finn would be getting off the bus in front of your house not knowing Uncle Sam would be waiting for him at the front door.

You swipe open the screen and dig through your contacts searching for Sam's info. You open it, and send a text reminding him what time Finn gets off the bus. Impatiently, you shake your leg waiting for a response.

“They’ll be fine..” Dean says without having to ask.

“I know…I just..” you don’t finish your sentence as you feel the jump from the phone buzz.

‘Got it.’

“See, quit worrying Y/N..” Dean says in a hushed voice, while peering through the rear view.

You lock your phone and suck in a harsh breath hearing the words he utters. Although you had had plenty of practice keeping your feelings concealed for so long, the time spent apart and certain things that this monster of a man uttered, were now painstakingly hard to swallow. You set your phone back down on the seat and feel the warm glow of the alcohol radiating in your chest. Your cheeks grow warm and you press them gently trying to extinguish the redness that may be appearing because of it.

With a long exhale you reach down and kick your shoes off before crouching in your seat and tucking your legs up under you. Sitting like a child in the front seat, Dean cranes his neck slowly over to look at you with a glare.

“I know… you hate it..” you say, getting yourself comfortable.

“..Old habits die hard…” You add remembering how upset he used to get with you sitting like that in the front seat.

‘It's not safe, and you’re gonna smell up ‘baby’ like feet!’

Like he had any right to be complaining about your feet, they were roses compared to his and Sammy’s. And safety! Yeah right! Between the countless times he had died, cheated death, been brought to the brink of death and back, was he really anyone to bark orders about safety?

Where was safety during all the times you had been sent into the darkness alone to lure out the waiting monsters? Or how about when you were the only one small enough to squeeze between the live electrical boards at the bunker? What about being outnumbered and ‘voluntold’ you were easier to lift when needing to reach up high, or even better; to be boosted through an abandoned house window, to let the giant lumberjacks through the front door… For two individuals who constantly put themselves in thoughtless danger every day of the year, they sure had an odd way of prioritizing safety…

Safety was in numbers, it was being prepared for the worst and hoping for the best. It was learning hand motions, and code words, for more uses than you'd like to admit would come in handy. Most importantly, it was about knowing when to ask for help when the outcome was less than bleak; a notion you remembered, being thoroughly driven into your brain; while still absent from theirs, even after all these years…

Tags: @nancymcl @123passwort

LMK, if youd also like to be tagged in these!

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mikeys-thighs · 3 years ago

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Somethin’ Wrong Here

Bishop x Reader

Summary: Bishop’s fiancee’s reaction to some the events in Season 4, Episode 4.

Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol consumption, arguing/yelling

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: This has been taking up space in my head since I watched the episode and I just had to write it out. No use of y/n or gender pronouns. Hope y’all like it despite it being an all hurt/no comfort...

Part 1 | Part 2

A text from Cielo had you angrily driving to the clubhouse. How dare that asshole you called a fiancé pull this kind of shit. All that drama with Canche and Yuma had caused a small rift in between you and Obispo; it was actually a bigger issue than either of you wanted to admit. You had been fighting constantly since the attack at the clubhouse, but you were patient and hoped things would work out soon. Well you were trying to but it seemed Bishop thought it was easier to drink his problems away. The wedding had even been pushed back a couple of months in the wait for things to calm down. Unfortunately things just seemed to be getting worse and not better, but as his old lady that is what you signed up for. You knew what you were getting into when you first fell in love with him. But you never expected this.

Your car all but screeched to a halt once inside the club gates. You took a second to calm down a little before leaving the car. It was important that you did not cause a scene until you confirmed what Cielo texted was true. If some random puta was actually putting the moves on him and he wasn’t shutting it down, there was going to be hell to pay. One more deep breath and then you were walking through the main door. 5 seconds. All it took was five seconds for your world to flip upside down. There was your old man doing shots with some woman you had never seen before. He was too wrapped up in telling her how he could keep up with her all night to even notice that someone had walked into the clubhouse. It was obvious to anyone breathing that those two were flirting and it instantly made your blood boil. The fucking audacity of this man.

You slammed the door loudly, finally gaining his attention. Bishop was also too far gone to even register that he was in some deep shit. You stomped over to where he was sitting with that bitch, and you were almost positive that there was actual steam coming out of your ears.

“Obispo Losa, you got a lot of fucking nerve.” You started not caring that you were drawing attention.

“Cariño! Sit down, have a drink.” He drunkenly smiled at you.

“Really that’s all you have to say to me! This is the first time I have seen you in DAYS and I find you flirting with some skank. But you want me to have a drink. Sure makes sense.” You were fuming at this point.

The rando chose to jump in “Seems like you could use one, sweetheart. Might help get that stick out your ass.”

Your eyebrows shot up your forehead. Who the hell did she think she was? Was she part of the reason you were here right now? Yes, but you would deal with her afterwards.

“Excuse me. I don’t even know you gringita, Also I wasn't fucking talking to you, so mind ya business,” You snapped, “And you,” you turned to Bishop ready to give him a piece of your mind.

“Hey! Watch it. Treenie is a nice girl. She enjoys my company unlike somebody.” He cut you off. He no longer looked happy to see you; he was scowling now

“Fuck you. I love spending time with you. I don’t particularly like this version of you though.” You gestured to his current state. “I also don’t like receiving texts from Cielo about your drinking and flirting.” He went to defend himself, but your intense glare stopped him. “Don’t try to deny it, pendejo. I heard the little innuendo you both made just now. Not to mention the way you were looking at her. It is a look I am very familiar with.”

“I’m sorry, isn't he a grown man? He can do whatever he wants.” Treenie interrupted, a stupid smirk on her face.

“I thought I told you to mind your business. Butt in again and I’ll break your nose.” You threatened turning your gaze on her. A threat all the Santo Padre members knew you would act on and probably soon.

Bishop slammed his hand on the table,and you jumped at the noise. If he was mad at you before he was downright infuriated now.A shot glass shattered as it rolled off the table and you slowly met Bish’s eyes. There was nothing but rage and hate swirling in them, not even a smidge of their usual adoration. Even during your worst fights he had never looked at you with such contempt. He sternly pointed a finger at you.

“I told you to watch the attitude. Now I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you lately, but it ends now.”

You started to argue back but he stopped you.

“No! I’m talking, you’re listening. You don’t get to come in here and act like a fucking brat. This is my sanctuary where I come to find peace from all your fucking nagging. Except now I gotta deal with shit here, and at home.”

You could feel your face getting hot with embarrassment. It was one thing for you to argue in private, but something else entirely to do it in public. You could feel everyone’s gazes on the two of you. It was probably like watching a car accident . They knew they should probably look away but couldn’t.

This was not how you saw this going. Honestly you had no idea how it was going to turn out when you got here. You figured you would yell at him and maybe fight the bitch for trying to sleep with your fiancé. Then Bishop would’ve dragged to a secluded part of the clubhouse for a round of make up sex. So what happened next caught you completely off guard.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe there was a reason I haven’t been home? Huh? Well, I’ll tell you why. It is because I can’t fucking stand to be around you. All you do is bitch and complain about everything. The dirty dishes, the neighbors dog shitting in our lawn, picking the cake flavor for a wedding I DON’T EVEN FUCKING WANT!” He continued on but you stopped listening.

He didn’t want to marry you… That had opened the floodgates and you were quick to wipe the tears away. Was all that planning and how excited he seemed to spend the rest of your lives together a lie? An act he put on to keep you happy? Well if that was what he wanted then fine.

You swiftly took off the ring on your left ring finger and chucked it as his stupid head. It was enough to shut him up. The clatter of the ring seemed to echo in the dead quiet clubhouse. It also caused everyone in the room to unfreeze and turn away. You didn’t bother to wipe your tears as you stepped closer to him. With a gentle tug of his beard, that he didn’t deserve, you forced him to make eye contact with you. He had to know you meant what you were about to say.

“I hate you Obispo and I never want to see you again.” You turn on your heel and leave the clubhouse.

You had made it all the way to your car before somebody followed you. As you looked over your shoulder you saw it was Gilly. He didn’t say anything, just held his hand for your keys. You had no energy to argue, so you handed them over and got in the passenger seat. He sent you a small smile before driving away. Thankfully he didn’t try to start a conversation, you were too busy crying anyway.. After dropping him off, you drove to the closest hotel. There was no way you could actually return to the home you used to share with Bishop tonight. It would hurt too much. Although the hotel room didn’t do much to dull the ache in your heart either.

#bishop losa x reader #bishop losa imagine #mayans imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago

Text

i wonder

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

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

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

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

word count: 20,141

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

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You cracked your eyes open.

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

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

Wait.

CUM?!

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

Think, y/n, think!

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

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

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

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

You screamed.

At the top of your lungs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n!”

“Y/n-chan!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll give you ten seconds to run.”

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

“Oh, true. Three seconds to run.”

“Why?!”

“It’s my birthday.”

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

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

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

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

“Come on, let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which is where you were now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was on this day that it clicked.

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

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

Disgusting.

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

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

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

So, we look back to where we started.

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

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

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

He was a physics major, not a goddamn god.

Fuck off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that was all unimportant and already said.

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

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

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

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

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

Ah yes, nothing like a university party.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N!”

“Y/N-CHAN!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You also itched to know what his dick looked like.

This was definitely someone you could see yourself fucking tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck men.

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

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

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

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

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

Thud.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

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

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

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

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

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

Your mind was a drunken fever.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thud.

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

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

“Fuck.”

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

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

You don’t think about it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What a child.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...I always make it.”

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

Silence.

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

“Fend for your damn self then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dumb?”

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi. Wanna explain what happened last night?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Irritation runs through your veins.

“Inasa, please,” you sigh in helplessness, your eyes annoyed, pleading, and hopeful that he would be the one to finally give you an actual reason.

“It’s… it’s not you. If that’s what you’re wondering,” Inasa finally sighs. His face turns uncharacteristically solemn as his tongue passes through his lips, his shoulders raising to a shrug. “Typically speaking, you are exactly who and what I want when I endeavor in less than chivalrous but still passionate activities. I wanted you last night, and I will not lie that even as I left, I regretted behaving as I did.”

“Well, you did it, and it sorta really sucked,” you laugh, your mouth taut in a frown as your feelings are genuinely hurt.

You keep being put down, and there’s no reason for it.

Why couldn’t you be as sexually active as you wish you could be?

“...Todoroki has a claim on you,” Inasa spoke slowly, his mouth dipping from a usual smile to a frown. “I know you guys aren’t together, but in a way, you two are.”

“No,” you say with complete certainty, anger burning in your chest, “we’re not.”

“Try telling Todoroki that,” Inasa shrugs, his fingers scratching through his buzz cut. “Listen, I wanted to have intercourse with you last night; I did. I also am aware that Todoroki is a womanizer, but he said you were off-limits for all of us.”

“He said that?” your voice is perfectly calm, not showing the raging fire in you.

“Well, no, he definitely did not,” Inasa sighs, the palm of his hands pressing tightly against his eyes. “He has never said it… but it’s the way he talks about you, how he looks at you. It’s a claim on you, even if it’s not a verbal one, and well, no one wants to defy him.”

Your nostrils flare in your irritation, and you find that you’re stepping into Inasa’s personal space, his eyes going wide as you step between his legs and press your hands on his chest.

“I’ll be going home in about five hours. If you still want to fuck me, wait for me,” you say slowly, trying to make sure he understands. “I don’t care if Sho looks at me the way he does; he is not my boyfriend.”

Inasa gulps, his tan skin sporting a healthy pink flush, “Yes, ma’am.”

Five hours later, you’re walking into your apartment with Inasa behind you, his warm, slightly sweaty hand clasped in yours. You make eye contact with both your roommates, Shishikura, whose eyes are rolling to the depths of his skull, and Shouto, who looks like a wall. You, despite the anger you’re feeling for Shouto, smile prettily, then grin wolfishly as you corral Inasa towards your room. You send your roommates a wink before closing the door with a decisive click.

Much like you assumed the night prior, your drunken hazed, lust-driven, anger-flared thoughts proved to be right. Inasa fucked you against the wall, deep into the mattress, he drilled and fucked you until his dick was wet with your slick, and his leg was trembling with his plentiful unleashed loads. But you weren’t done yet, too many times have you been denied, and even though Inasa was trembling, his voice shaking with desperate pleas to slow down or he would cum too fast, you rode him with powerful, swiveling hips.

Once he left, you felt light again.

Your head light, body glowing as you dressed your bruised, cum slick body in a robe as you trudged to the bathroom. You showered, letting the warm water and sweet-smelling oils drench your body before you eventually exited, your hair in a towel, Shouto’s shirt on your person again.

Waltzing to the living room, you grinned as you collapsed on the couch, every grievance you held when you walked in forgotten at the moment.

“Hello,” you smile, your head falling onto Shouto’s lap who was, at the moment, very interested in his phone. Shishikura was gone, undoubtedly leaving in case he heard something he didn’t want to hear during your little four-hour sexscapade. “I am a leaf flowing through the river right now, if you’re wondering.”

“Don’t need to wonder. You were perfectly loud enough,” Shouto grumbled, his eyes rolling. “Says something that I could, considering the rooms are soundproof.”

“I should hope so! After you, the girls rave that Inasa is the best fuck on campus,” you hum, still on a delirious high as you attempt to reach for your best friend's hand to grasp. But to your shock, Shouto jerks away from your touch, and he stands, letting your head fall roughly on the couch. And just like that, your anger is back. The emotion Inasa had managed to fuck out of you for a bit returned at full force. “Shouto?!”

“What?” he snaps.

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“My problem is that you brought someone to fuck at fucking five p.m.,” Shouto explains, his expression like the void, empty, dark, menacing. “We agreed to keep it until past ten.”

Your face screws up as you push up off the couch, “Are you kidding me?! I’ve seen you constantly bring girls to fuck at any and all times of the day! Don’t suddenly bring that shit in when it clearly isn’t an actual rule in this apartment!”

“You were also being obnoxiously loud,” Shouto narrows his eyes at you.

“You are too!”

“When am I ever?”

“I literally listened to you fuck that girl last night against our shared wall!”

“You moved your bed to our shared wall?! When?!”

“Doesn’t matter! I would’ve heard it just fine on the other side!”

“The girl wasn’t even that fucking loud!”

“You can’t ever remember the names of the girls you fuck! Do you know anything about them ever? Are you even using condoms?!”

“You only ever fuck men with questionable personalities.”

“Gee, I wonder fucking why!”

The two of you were nose to nose, anger flaring and near tangible between the two of you.

“What do you mean?” he grits slowly.

“I’m talking about you mad dogging any male human who so much as looks or thinks of me!” you snap, finger shoving between his pecs. “No one touches me because somehow they respect the way a womanizer looks at me.”

“I’m not looking at you in any special way,” Shouto squints his eyes, completely not having your accusations.

“Even if you don’t, this fucking behavior is pathetic of you!” you say, hands motioning between you two and the room. “I had sex, and you’re acting like some pathetic child! I have been putting up with your sex-craze tendencies since we were sixteen, asshole! Sixteen! If I want to gloat and float about having sex, then I fucking deserve to.”

His nostrils flare, his upper lip curling in a small twitch before he rolls his eyes and walks away.

“That’s right, Todoroki,” you laugh bitterly at his retreating form. “Walk away from a fight because you can never win them.”

It took a bit for the dust to settle, but as soon as it did, you realized in horror that you and Shouto had, for the first time ever, fought.

Being roommates with Shouto was always a fun thing. Having your childhood best friend right at your disposal meant that you could have dinner nights, movie nights, game nights, morning waffles, hikes, and literally anything whenever and wherever you wanted. He was a person to talk to when the days were long, and there was no one else in the world, the person who was there for you through thick and thin. But for two days, he had been locked away in his room, unwilling to look at you, refusing to be anywhere near you.

Your friends had noticed immediately.

The way the both of you hadn’t shown up together, the way you sat at opposite ends of the table, refusing to be trapped in a conversation together. Separate the two of you were, and the world acted as if Earth had dropped out of gravity.

You could care less right now.

You were rightfully mad at him! How dare he act so pettily over you having a sex life when you were expected to blink, turn the other way, and laugh when he would shower after a girl would leave before joining you on the couch to watch a movie. He was in the wrong, not you!

But even if you were unwilling to budge and he was refusing to see things the way they should be, you were now incredibly lonesome. So as you sat with your back on the mattress. Your butt to the wall, and your legs kicking against the wall, you thought of what you could do. With a bitter sigh, you rolled off your bed and scurried out of the apartment. Nothing but your wallet and ID on you so that you could get to the store on the first floor of the complex.

Holding the item in hand, you knocked on a door, your gaze already on the floor, embarrassed that you were going to do what you had to do.

“What?” came the annoyed voice of Shishikura, the door to his room opening as he looked at you unimpressed and very obviously unwelcomed.

“Truce?” you asked, raising the six-pack of Angry Orchard Rosé Cider.

Shishikura looks at you, at the ciders, then back at you.

“Fine.”

How in the world you’re drunk off of four rosé ciders is beyond you, but you are. You’re in the living room, laughing so hard that your stomach hurts as you’re trying not to snort the liquid from your mouth and out your nose. Shishikura is equally plastered off of one drink, his red a ruby red against his purple hair. He’s leaning against you, his breathing ragged, near asthmatic as he tries to once explain just how Shouto looked like when some girl slapped him across the face yesterday for ghosting her after sex.

“He was so shocked!” Shishikura squeaked out, his voice pitchy and incredibly high as he laughed more and more. “You should have seen it!”

Your feet kicked at the air, your face and lungs burning with a fire you hadn’t felt in so long as your laughter turned silent. You gasped for air, trying to contain yourself but failing hysterically.

“Do you wa’ another meatballsh?” Shishikura suddenly asked, his hands flailing to grab his plate of meat. “I think you want another o’.”

“I wan’ ‘ne!” you cried with a slight slur, tears of joy slipping past your eyes to which you haphazardly scrubbed them off your face. “They’re soooo good! I didn’t think they could be so… be so good!”

You find yourself eating another meatball, drinking it down with the cider and feeling happy again. Shishikura goes still by your side, and you hum in wonder, unfocused eyes trying to find what had caught his attention and falling onto the one man you were mad at currently.

Shouto was standing at the apartment entrance, dressed in ripped black jeans, a tight grey turtleneck sweater, and his backpack slung on his shoulder. It was, without a doubt, a studying-only outfit. You knew and have discussed too many times with Shouto about how he never trusted women to take his turtlenecks off without potentially ruining the fabric.

“Well, someone’s finally home... from a night of beddin mo’ women, huh?” a voice spoke, but you were completely unsure if it was you or Shishikura who said it.

Judging by the way Shouto’s eyes locked on Shishikura and not yours, it seemed it was him who said it.

“No, I was doing something,” Shouto retorted, his hand gripping the strap of his backpack, his eyes shifting between you and Shishikura. “A paper for class.”

“Sure,” you end up speaking up, your voice sounding completely sober. You sit up so that your elbow is resting on Shishikura’s nearest shoulder. You raise the glass bottle to your lips, drinking its content without care, never once breaking eye contact. “What was the paper's name? You going after your TA? Or was it a professor by chance?”

Shouto’s eyebrows furrow, his face completely unimpressed by your comeback, but he remains silent.

“He looks like he’s trying to cosplay that one Young The Rock picture, no way would a dignified professor or TA fuck him!” Shishikura laughed with a loud bark, and all of a sudden, that was all you could see too.

The both of you howled with laughter, laughing and slapping each other as you attempted to drink the last bits of the rosés as Shouto rolled his eyes and walked away.

“This is fun. No wonder why you guys do it to me so often.”

As time does, it moves forward.

It seemed as if the entire campus had tuned in to what had transpired between you and Shouto. No one the slightest bit sure as to what happened, but everyone knew something big had happened. There was no more walking together before classes or after classes, no weird Instagram or Snapchat stories of the other, both of you never having to excuse yourself because you had plans with the other. Even though they claimed to not care about other people’s business, the school was suddenly invested in the single speculation that Todoroki Shouto’s and Y/l/n Y/n’s relationship was over.

“Breaking News, it was never a real relationship!” you would scream the first few times you heard it, which only worked to make them whisper louder that you were in further denial.

For the last seventeen years of your life, you had never gone more than two days without talking or seeing your childhood best friend. Those two days happened when Rei had experienced a staggering, hospital-inducing breakdown from stress and had subsequently burned Shouto when you were five years old. The two days were because he spent four days in the hospital. The first two days, he was not allowed visitors as the hospital staff put him under a coma to help his body from entering shock and heal. Of course, the moment he was awakened, you were dragging your mother to his bedside.

That was the only time you hadn’t seen or spoken to Shouto consistently.

But since Sunday evening, you had only seen Shouto once when you were drunk with Shishikura. You had only spoken to him then too.

For the first time in seventeen years, you broke your record of not talking or seeing Shouto.

From two days to five.

It was weird.

You felt almost empty.

So when Mina and Uraraka placed their arms around your shoulders, their eyes dead serious, you knew that they had a distraction for you.

“The deltas are throwing a party,” Uraraka spoke with mystery. “It is on Saturday.”

“It is only right that we go, get our asses so drunk our blood is practically a distillery, and fuck anyone who looks at us a second longer than anyone else,” Mina agrees, her tone wise and knowing as she nods her head.

“Our question to you is:” they spoke together, their voices weirdly, obviously practiced, in synch. “Are you in?”

Your tongue is pressed between your lips, your fingers pressing against the textbook you were using to help support your essay’s thesis, and you roll your eyes.

You grin.

“Obviously.”

And as time promises each and every time, Saturday finally came.

“What is our objective tonight?!” Mina screams over the background music that Jirou is blasting in Momo’s larger-than-life bathroom.

“To fuck bitches and get money!” Hagakure, the only one currently not downing a drink, screams back.

“NO, WRONG!” Mina shakes her head, climbing onto the white marble countertops and pointing at Jirou. “Kyo! Your turn!”

“To beat that prick in the sound booth and prove that I’m—”

“NO! Wrong again! Yaomomo!”

“Um, to make everlasting mem—”

“INCORRECT, YOU GORGEOUS PRINCESS! Tsuyu, don’t fail me, babe!”

“Well, it’s to prove to Todoroki that y/n-chan should be able to fuck any person she wants.”

“A bit lengthy, a bit focused on the wrong parts of it, but YES! Tonight’s operation: get y/n a man — preferably Inasa — who fucks the negativity out of her!”

You laugh loudly, rolling your eyes as you lean in closer to the mirror. You hold a Mike’s Hard in one hand, and in the other is your eyeliner as you paint on your makeup. You’re not really hearing the conversations that the girls are having, your own mind too lost in the music, and the swaying you’ve picked up as the three bottles of Mike’s you’ve had in the past thirty minutes are calming down your still frazzled nerves.

You don’t pull away from your reflection until after you’re done smoothing over your favorite lipstick on your pouty lips. You look over at your reflection and see Mina dancing with an awkwardly stiff Jirou and a delightfully giggling Momo on the bathroom countertops. A smile forms on your face, happiness radiating in your chest, and you grin looking at your friends.

But Shouto still sat in your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder why.

Why did it hurt knowing that he was avoiding you as much as you were him?

Why didn’t he just try to corner you?

Why did you care that he didn’t?

He was your best friend in the entire world, since your earliest memories, he’s been there, you reason, your whooping not quite as loud as you watch Jirou awkwardly be sandwich between a grinding Mina and a complacent Momo.

It was his fault you, you further reasoned, smiling widely at Hagakure, who was twirling around you, applying her lipstick as a super crazy never before seen talent of hers. He was the one acting like an idiot over the people you slept with even though you let all the people he slept with slide!

But why did you?

Your brows furrowed slightly, unfurrowing just as quickly as Mina pulled you and Uraraka up onto the countertop with her as Jirou and Momo dropped to the floor.

You fucking were in love with Shouto, damnit! Of course you let the stupid personal things go just to appease him! Your back straightened, your eyes rolling as you began to dance with the Kehlani music thumping in the background, but then you freeze.

You were in love with him.

You loved Shouto.

Not in a friendly, platonic, family way.

In an ‘I would date you if I could and marry you on the prettiest beach in front of the most beautiful sunset’ way.

You found that your body was dancing on autopilot as you began to reassess your thoughts, your actions, your wants with Shouto, desperately trying to disprove this love for him. But no matter what you did, you found that it was true no matter what angle you looked at it.

The bass dropped, and you went stiff, your body standing straight and tall although you felt incredibly, terribly small.

“I love him,” you spoke, although you’re not sure who to. Maybe it was to the laughing gods above you or the crying spirits around you. But the girls heard it for some reason, and they, as they were patiently waiting for these past six, nearly seven days, caught you as you went weak.

Finally, realizing that you were in love with your childhood best friend was not the conclusion you expected from a week's silence from Shouto and you. But as you were currently in a crop top with a mesh shirt underneath and the most ripped jeans you owned, chugging down a neon green and blue nearly toxic alcoholic drink, you realized that being at this party was the right way to conclude this circus of a week.

The rush of the liquid dropping down the beer bong was something you found yourself struggling to keep up with, and you felt some of the liquid pour out of your mouth as you grunt, trailing down your heaving chest, creating an image in your onlookers as you refused to choke or pull away. Swallowing the last bit of the drink, ripping the plastic tube out of your mouth, you threw your hands in the air, Tsuyu, who had held and poured the contents for you, screaming too as she lifted your arm in victory.

You couldn’t really hear the music anymore, much more entranced with the music you were singing on your own, and you were currently holding Mina’s face, touching foreheads with her as you spoke a mantra of your love for her.

“Ashido Mina, you are the baddest bitch in the whole wide world. I love your pink hair and your fat ass, and I would die for you. I love you… so fucking much,” is what you said. How it was actually said and how it was perceived is a whole other story because Mina laughed loudly and allowed you to hug her despite your sticky alcohol body.

Your twenties were the new two’s, it seemed.

“Yo, y/l/n!” a voice yelled, and although you let go of Mina’s face, your arms found a new home around her neck as you turned around.

“Hm?”

Your terrible drunk eyes looked all over before falling on a man wearing a basketball jersey and joggers.

Shindou Yo, one of campus’ manwhores. He had a reputation similar to Shouto, you knew that very well, but you were aware that he was disturbingly creepy. According to many vital witnesses, the man slept with just about anyone willing regardless of gender, so not only did you know what the girls thought of him, experienced with him, there was a wider demographic not even Shouto had entered. Number one thing to be told was the fact that Shindou was into some heavy, dark shit to an extreme, his room reeked of sex, and he himself smelled like booze, weed, and BO. But a strong dick was a strong dick at the end of the day.

“Come play beer pong with me?” he asked, his hands shoved into his pockets as he smiled innocently. “I’ve heard some pretty solid shit about your skills, and I want to see how I add up.”

“I’ll play!” you agree immediately, jumping at the thought of drinking more. “Bu I don’t wa’ beer… ish nashty.”

“Anything for you, darling.”

With your arm still holding onto Mina, you accepted Shindou’s hand and allowed him to drag you off to where he wanted to play the game of beer pong.

The game of beer pong went without a single thing going wrong. You were paired up with Shindou, and Mina had managed to find Kirishima in the crowd before you got to your destination and demanded she have him as a partner and not Monoma.

It was safe to say that you were drunk, disgustingly out of your mind. It was an intense game of Cup Pong, the two different teams equally as bad in the drunken stupor, but finally, the two teams were down to a single cup and Kirishima — who was the only reason why they were winning!!!! — had the last ball. You watched in terrible apprehension, fingers digging into Shinsou’s biceps as Kirishima rose the wet ping pong ball to Mina’s lips and let her blow on it for good luck before bringing it back in and began a few steadying practice throws.

“You know, I’m glad I saw you at this party,” Shindou whispers to you, his head ducking down so that you and only you could hear that.

“Why?” you say a lot louder than you wanted, your heart hammering in fear that you would lose this game.

“Because you’re sexy as fuck,” Shindou spoke, his voice turning deeper, huskier, “and now you’re single.”

You blink, attention stolen from the game as you forgot about the final cup and looked at Shindou with a blank stare and an open mouth.

“What?”

“Cuz you and Todoroki are over,” Shindou explains to you as if you’re a child. “You guys are over, right? That’s all everyone’s talking about, and all us guys are ready to fuck you whenever you’re ready.”

His smirk irritates you, the lust in his eyes angering you as you drop your hold on his arm.

“We weren’t together, and you knew that,” you say, eyes narrowing as the crowd watching the game explodes in raging cheers as Kirishima sinks the ball into the cup. “Why the fuck would Shouto be fucking every girl that walks if we were together? What makes you think I’d be okay with it?”

“You’re a cuck,” Shindou continues on, confidence unaffected. “Oh, are the two of you maybe changing roles now? Does the big guy want me to fuck you in front of him?”

Your fist makes contact with his throat before you can even stop yourself and the cheers quickly turn into gasps.

After apologizing profusely to the party holders, they decided that you could, in fact, stay at the party. Your knuckles throbbed in pain, the alcohol in your system buzzing in you in a way that wasn’t fun or relaxing as you made a simple side-step dance move in the middle of the dance floor. The girls, who had at the beginning of the party, drifted ways, had once more glued themselves at your side on the floor. You weren’t in a dancing mood as you took a drink of what you assumed to be a Moscow mule made by Mina for you to keep you at a high for the rest of the party.

Like hell you would ever let Shouto cuck you!

Let him fuck another woman in front of you?

You would go insane if he ever thought that would be acceptable.

“Down girl, relax!” Mina yelled by your ear. “I thought I was babysitting y/n, not Bakugou Katsuki!”

You startled, realizing that your frown had become a fierce snarl as you danced on the floor.

“Come on, babe, let’s get you feeling good again; let’s enjoy this night!” Mina exclaimed, her hands pushing your drink to your mouth and forcing you to chug the contents of the drink. The red Solo Cup is dropped to the floor as soon as you finish. She grabbed your wrists and began to fluidly move your arms — or as well as she could manage herself because she, too, was drunk.

But with Mina winking and smiling at you, the rest of the girls eventually throw themselves into your linked dance circle, your own negative emotions left and in came joy.

It took about another round of ten songs for the dance circle to be destroyed and to have all of you resuming a rave-like jumping and scream-singing as Jirou finally snuck her way into the DJ booth and succeeded to take over. You spun around at the end of one song, laughing completely out of breath as you clapped your hands together. You often forget that while Jirou only listened to a very specific genre, she was a musical genius who had banger playlists for every occasion.

It seemed frat parties were one of them.

However, the next song had your head tilting backward, your grin spreading even wider as you began to move your hips in slow, distinct movements. Dancing with your hips was something you had learned, something you instilled into your dancing category for as long as you could remember.

The beats were loud, deep, thumping deep in the ground and vibrating with great strength in your chest as you pointed a finger at Mina, who was also dancing similarly to you. Your lips moved as you sang the song quietly, the heat and humidity of the room suddenly pressing onto you like another person. You hummed, flicking the parts of your hair sticking to the nape of your neck off, grateful for the slightly cooler air hitting your sweaty skin.

As you rolled your hips down, your hands fanning yourself, trying to cool down your deliriously warm, alcohol-heated body, you froze for just a bit. A person pressed to your back, your ass pressing against a hot thigh, and a hand resting upon the curve of your thigh, keeping you in place. You might have cared, but the body against yours was a welcomed one. Your hips and ass continuing to move in tandem with the music, deliberate highs and lows, and you worked your way up and down the man's body who met yours with spinning accuracy that made you began to pant, your heart racing because this was hot to you. You raised your arms behind you, clasping onto his neck, keeping him on you.

His hair was soft under your touch, slightly sweaty but threaded and parted between your fingers just too easily. His left hand, which had found a spot on your stomach, was radiating heat, something easily felt due to you only having mesh cloth there.

It was slow.

Sensual.

Somehow familiar.

Absolutely mind-numbing.

His chest broad against your back, muscles strong and tight against you.

He was skilled, practiced. Someone you knew was not going to disappoint you, and as your lust-glazed eyes took in the entirely shocked looks of your friends, you finally turned to look.

Somehow, someway, you weren’t shocked at all to see Shouto’s clouded, dark eyes locking on yours. Your world seems to freeze as something between you and Shouto is so obviously broken between you, forever changing, no longer able to go back. It didn’t matter that this was the first time in almost a week you had seen him, had talked to him, he was there, and you wanted to feel his skin scorching against yours. His touch screamed of his want for you, your recognition of your love for him, and your current lust for him. You were angry, hurt, confused, but you were too drunk to care, too intoxicated on the spell the two of you created on this dance floor.

But even as your world froze, the music continued on.

Grabbing Shouto’s hand, you spun around so that his chest was now pressed against yours, your legs between his. You continued dancing, continued to roll your hips down as you sunk down to the ground as Shouto remained standing, his hand supporting and balancing you as you went down and up. He began to dance with you again, the world seemingly disappearing as the two of you ground and panted heavily in each other's ears.

He pushed forward, and you whined, feeling the blazing swollen heat of his semi-hard cock against your stomach, but you met him there.

Your fingers fisting in his hair as his hands found their way into your back pockets, gripping your ass, and your eyes fluttered shut as his mouth, blazing, intense, and intentful, mashed against yours. You kissed him back immediately, all defenses abandoned to that of your lust, wants, and needs. His mouth was a fire, his kiss a blaze that consumed you, drowned you, made you push for more.

It was a kiss that lasted who knows how long, but by the time you had separated, you could feel the familiar sting to your slowly swelling lips and the song that had ended.

His eyes were a near black, his cheeks flushed, and his arms kept you so close you had to think if you were in the privacy of your home or in public.

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice begging, pleading for him.

“I need you,” he responded, his voice equally wishing.

“Take me home,” you speak, lips pressing sloppy, desperate hot kisses to his neck. “Take me home and fuck me.”

“Fuck, yes, okay. Let’s go,” Shouto pants, his hands leaving your ass and grabbing onto one of yours before taking you and dragging you away.

It wouldn’t hit you until much later, but the very first kiss you had ever had with Shouto was in the middle of a dance floor, at a party where the male population had been ready to snatch you up after your relationship with Shouto was so-called over.

You were breathless.

No matter how deep you inhaled, you felt like you weren’t having enough oxygen flooding your veins, filling your lungs. You laugh loudly in the night, uncaring about the strangers you passed looking at you and Shouto, who chuckled and snorted with every giggle you made.

This felt crazy, insane, something serendipitous and not real even in the smallest of bits.

He kissed you.

He wanted you.

He said he needed you.

Wants and needs were different things, but he said need.

He needed you.

Just you.

Your feet ached from the running, but you could only focus on Shouto, your mind filling and swimming in the memory of his body pressed to you. The way his lips ghosted over your neck, and the way he danced against you — with you. The four-block walk back to your apartment seemed too far, and your eyes locked on a nearing alleyway.

With much more strength than you should have, you shoved Shouto into the alleyway, your mouth immediately pressing onto his.

Shouto groaned into your mouth, letting you drink his noises as you pulled him close, consuming him in a messy clash of teeth, spit, and tongue. You whined back, your legs slotting between his thigh and grinding down on the hard muscle. It alleviated the growing, scorching heat in your panties but also intensified it, making you want for more and more and more.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Shouto groaned in your mouth, shifting and guiding your rolling hips his thigh better, more fluid, more intense.

Your eyes barely cracked open, your mouth no longer kissing him put pressing against his in an open mouth pant. Your drunken breath saying nothing but implying the world.

Something Shouto was more than keen on giving you.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered for you to hear, so reverent, so holy. And so that you, the center of his world, the only thing he saw and believed in, knew how passionately, how ardently he believed in you, his mouth slid down your neck, and his teeth sunk in your flesh. He claimed you, praised you, making you a part of him.

“I’m still so mad at you!” you moan, voice pitched, whiny, and deliriously high. “I love you, asshole. I love you, and you sleep around! I love you, and I don’t care if you sleep around, but you care that I sleep around?!”

“I love you too,” Shouto mumbles against your neck, his teeth continuing to press into your skin that seems to explode with heat at the revelation. “I love, and I’m an idiot; I’m so sorry.”

And then he does something with his tongue against your neck, the soft of swipes, the wet tickling heat making your head slam back against the brick wall, and a mangled, strangled moan of unadulterated want emits from you.

“We'll talk about this in the morning,” you pant, fingers fisting in his shirt. “We can fix this, but right now, shut up and fuck me.”

“Y/n—”

“I’m horny,” you interrupt, hips sharply jutting into his leg. “You made me horny. Take responsibility.”

His eyes flashed dark, his nostrils flaring, and your words cemented in his head. He resumed his painting, his worship on your neck as you cried loudly in the alleyway, desperate, needy for more.

It was dizzying to have him on you like this.

For so long, you had only touched him in a few ways, had only ever felt a specific type of warmth. But this was unlike anything you’ve ever done with him, to him. It felt like you were burning and freezing, consumed by heat and energy and everything Shouto. His all too familiar cologne filled your nose, drowning your brain, invading your senses. His frantic heartbeat felt against your own body, telling you exactly how you were affecting him, how you made his heart speed and jump with every breathy whine.

“Fuck, I can’t do this. We need to get home now!” Shouto growls, his hands grabbing you by the wrist yet again and pulling you away.

His strides are long, quick, and powerful. You’re running to keep up, beautifully out of breath, staggering and stumbling to keep up in his objective to get back to the apartment now.

It doesn’t seem to take long before he’s pushing open the doors to the apartment complex, corralling you through the doors and into the elevator to get to the eleventh floor. The elevator doors are behind you, and with no one else in the life, you turn on him and immediately resume your own endeavor of claiming Shouto with your mouth, body, and soul. He matches your intensity, hands roaming from where the clasp of your bra sat to the curve of your ass. He grabbed you, pulled you in closer, the air in his nose staggering as you stammer against his mouth.

Teeth touch lips, tongues in each other's cheeks, and Shouto leads you out of the elevator backward, his one hand on your waist forever steady and the other one holding the key. Your fingers are back in his hair, pulling and tugging sharply on the soft, short strands with nearly disappeared gel. He gets to the door, fumbling with the key as you continue to kiss him, distracting him with the smallest of movements.

“Which room?” he asks against your mouth, pushing you through the threshold, his foot closing the door behind him.

The shoes are haphazardly kicked off and you’re now on your tiptoes to continue kissing him as you were. You tried to think, tried to figure out if you wanted to be surrounded by Shouto’s scent or to have him displayed in your room. His teeth then suckle on your bottom lip, biting down on the swollen, hot flesh just gentle enough that your mind draws a blank and your voice responds on its own.

“Mine.”

You shriek then, Shouto swiftly picking you up off the floor and you panic, hands swatting and beating on him as you scream to let you down. He continues walking, holding you without a worry, his arms remaining strong and firm beneath you. But with your distraction, with your lips no longer pressed sinfully against his, Shouto’s mouth finds a junction point on your clavicle and sinks his teeth down again, claiming you once more.

“S-Sho—” your voice hitches, the feeling too intense for you to process all at once. You hear your room door open and close, and without warning, you’re soaring through the air before collapsing on the bed.

“You think I go to the gym to get muscles for fun?” Shouto taunts, his fingers hooking under the dark grey t-shirt he’s wearing. “Angel, I go to the gym to make sure I can fuck you in any position, against any surface or wall you want.”

Your body feels like it's scorching as he removes his shirt, his muscles rippling and moving seductively with the devious, intentional movement.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Shouto asks, the shirt dropping to the floor, removing all traces of oxygen from your person. He steps closer, fingers circling around your ankle and suddenly pulling you in toward him until you were sitting at the edge, his lips hovering over yours. “Cat got your tongue?”

Your tongue feels dry in your mouth, but your eyes narrow before you push up and capture his mouth back with yours. He kisses you back deeply, bending down so that you begin to shift backward, allowing him the space to crawl onto the bed with you, and at the last moment, your leg wraps around his waist and spins the both of you. Shouto gasps as you pin him onto the mattress, your tongue invading his mouth, brushing and swirling against his, coaxing his own tongue back into your own mouth. With the wet heat in your mouth, your teeth playfully, just gently dig into his appendage and tug.

“No, but it seems like I got yours,” you humor him, your teeth releasing his tongue, and Shouto looks up at you like you were both the sun and the moon, and the stars were a gift to him.

It takes your breath away.

Shouto grins, shifting onto his elbows so that he’s closer to you before kissing you again.

The kiss is growing louder, both your mouths ever so consuming, trying to relay years of repressed, unknown emotions and feelings within a drastic, incredible touch. Your hips begin shifting against his crotch, humping his clothed erection, demonstrating yet again the power and grace you hold in your body.

Shouto’s hands move from your ribs up to your breasts, and with the hot, rough flesh of his skin, he squeezes your tender flesh. You moan into his mouth, hips bucking wildly against him at the sensation. It isn’t a powerful flesh, but a reminder, a demonstration of just what and where he could inflect passionate actions.

Your hands scour his chest, fingernails dragging teasingly down his firm, developed muscles, fingers flicking and teasing at his own exposed nipples. Shouto grunts into your mouth, hips bucking powerfully upward into your clothed cunt, and you splutter at the power behind it. But it seems as though Shouto is over the fishnet mesh shirt and crop top you’re wearing because he’s tugging it out of the waistband of your jeans and commands in a deep, lust-ridden voice: “Off.”

Goosebumps flash across your skin, bubbling and spraying across your sensitive skin as your shirt and crop top join Shouto’s on the floor. Your gasp loudly when Shouto rolls the both of you over swiftly, his mouth immediately pressing hot, viper kisses on your breasts. All thought and reason leave your mind as his teeth nip and pull. His fingers pushing the straps of your bra off your shoulders and shoving your boobs out of the bra in a firm hold.

“You have no idea how fucking long I’ve wanted to touch you, kiss you, fuck you,” Shouto whispers, his tone almost dark as his hot air fans against your already pebbling nipples. “Fuck, angel, you’re better than anything I’ve ever dreamed about.”

You whine loudly, fingers tangling in his hair as you desperately, wordlessly try to persuade him to put his lips around your attentive, eager nipples.

“I always forget you got these things,” Shouto says in wonder, his fingers touching the metal bars sitting so innocently, deviously on through your nipple. He tugs on the bar, and all the nerves in your breast fire and tingle, and your feet curl by his back as you whimper. “Fuck... I can’t believe I forgot…”

“S-Shouto, I fucking swear!” you almost screech, hands desperately pulling at strands of red and white, wanting his teeth and tongue and the suction of his mouth on your nipple. “Stop. Fucking. Talking!”

Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.

“Okay,” he says cheekily, and as if he read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your all too ready nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, clacking against the metal in your flesh. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, although you have no idea what you’re begging for. Your hips pathetically grinding into his clothed cock, trying to get yourself to cum while not having been touched. “Sho— Shouto!”

Shouto pulls away from your nipple with a loud pop. His breath panting, short, and overwhelmingly strained as if simply sucking your throbbing, needy nipple had given him the same amount of pleasure as it did you before consuming your forgotten one. Just as before, you melted against him, begging please, pretty please to him but never telling him what you were wanting. You didn’t know what you were wanting.

But unlike before, his hands leave their attentive position on your free nipple and slam your hips back down onto the mattress, keeping you down and still as he continued his ministrations until you were nipplegasming. You choked as the orgasm consumed you, your body going rigid and your eyes rolling to the depths of your head as his hot mouth was all you could think of. For a moment, the needy wet heat between your thighs was easily ignorable, something unneeded until Shouto was pulling away and kissing you again.

His chest was pressed tight against your own chest, your sensitive, overstimulated nipples rubbing against his chest with the welcomed friction as you let out a wordless, near-dizzy sigh into Shouto’s mouth. He kissed you with incredible passion, with dizzying heat, and consuming lust.

Your voice was so small, your voice easily drowned in Shouto’s mouth as your fingernails dug into his back and raked down pathetically, desperately proving that you were still here. Still fighting him on just who would win this night. Your fingers went down the curve of his spine, trailing down until you found the waistband of his sweats, and with his mouth everso distractingly on the swell of your breasts, biting, marking, and sucking hickies and his print on you for forever, he helped you slide the pants off.

In an almost dramatic fashion, his eyes burning deep into yours, leaving you stunned and a worshiper at his feet, he rose off your bed and let the pants fall. You shakily inhaled, your eyes suddenly transfixed and only seeing the hard, leaking dick that stood tall and proud against his twitching stomach. At the mere sight of him, you now truly, completely, and entirely understood just why the girls were obsessed.

From tip to the base, he was thick, the flush of his skin gorgeous, the curve of his cock optimal to fuck anyone. He was long, thick, and delicious—trimmed pubes of red and white and balls that had your mouth watering and going dry. You wondered, imagined, tried to visualize just how much it was going to hurt getting that in you. You’ve never had a man with a dick like that, never had to choke or fuck on something that looked like it would possibly render you stupid the moment you were impaled.

“Can I?” you ask, ‘can I touch you? Can I suck you?’ go unsaid.

“You owe me one,” Shouto says, his words teasing if it wasn’t for the way his voice betrayed him with the eagerness, the want and inexplicable tell that says if you don’t touch him, he will lose his fucking mind. “Please, do it.”

You’re dragging him back onto the bed, sitting him by your headboard, spreading his legs apart as you situate yourself between them. With a tentative, shaky hand, you reach out and grab on his dick.

His flesh is hot to the touch; it's hard and twitches just so at your grasp. Shouto lets out a gasp mixed with a whine, and you look at him with wide eyes and parted lips. Unable to help yourself, you lean in, your nose touching the underside of his length and nuzzling into the flesh. You look back up at him with hooded eyes, eyes dark with mirth, lust, and an overwhelming need to please Shouto. He stares back, eyes entirely too bright, almost scared, almost as if he can’t believe this is happening.

You smile softly, eyes breaking contact to look at the swelling cock in your hand, and then back at him as your tongue pokes out of your mouth and puts a long, wet stripe against his length.

And Shouto?

Shouto moans like a man who’s had warm food after days of starving.

You lick from base to tip, saliva mixing with precum as your mouth presses teasing, open mouth kisses down the length of his cock, tongue pressing against the sweltering heat of his balls.

“Fuck, y/n, stop teasing,” Shouto grits, his hips pathetically snapping into nothing, his hands desperately trying to touch you, to which you swatted him away each and every time. You tut, shaking your head. With both your hands fisting his dick at the middle of his length, your squeeze and pull in opposite directions.

The reaction is one that you were hoping for, Shouto’s head slamming to the headboard with a clash, his legs jumping just a bit, and precum coming out in even heavy drops. You laugh breathlessly at his display, enamored with how fucking easy he is to get to make noises. He’d never made noises before, no other girl had him the way you did, and that made you crazy with power.

Before you wanted to, your mouth consumed to head of his cock, allowing the musky smell that was completely and only Shouto to fully consume you. You sucked on his thick swollen head, tongue pressing on the leaking slit on his head as he choked on your name. You smile, taking him in further, straining against the weight in your mouth, the pressure on the back of your throat, and the stretch of your throat. As soon as you had him a bit way in, you were pushing out, his hips driving to find you but missing you. Shouto’s noise was almost broken, near needy, and your head spun with his noises. Unable to stop, you pushed in again, allowing the drive of his hips to send his cock further down your throat.

Tears filled your eyes at the action, his cock much too large, much too thick to be fucked into your throat as such. Your fists acted as a barrier as you adjusted, your throat humming, mouth moaning as Shouto lost himself to the heat of your wet mouth. You bobbed your head, fucking him diligently and intently with your mouth, driving him further down, your tongue and hollowed cheeks. You sucked his dick with the intention of ruining him, of making him fill your mouth and throat with him so he could never doubt that it was him you wanted, him you needed to consume. You let go of one hand, allowing it to fondle with his balls as his cock went further into your mouth, the sounds of your choking, gagging, and crying egging him on.

“You take me so good,” Shouto sang to you, whispering words that only you’ve heard. “Fuck, angel, take me all the way. I know you can do it.”

With his hands at the back of your head, your fingers squeezing his balls, and the shaky removal of your final hand on his cock, he drives his hips all the way up. Shouto curses loudly, and you choke, feeling the rush of cum shooting down your throat, and you’re let free.

“Swallow it all, don’t spit it up,” Shouto breathes, his body shifting upward, eyes intent, focused. “Let me see.”

You cough violently, mouth closed as you swallow the salty cum, only letting your mouth open to allow the drool and spit to drip from your flat tongue as you show him that you swallowed every last seed. He groaned, grasping you by the chin and pulling you back in for a passionate, all-consuming kiss. The taste of Shouto and his cum sat heavily in your throat, and you were shaking as he began to unbutton your jeans, shedding them off of you as he flipped you back around so that your back was resting against the mattress.

Salt sweat dripped down your neck, and Shouto left fingertip bruises on your waist, your knees and legs awkwardly kicking as you finally got your jeans off your ankles. You shuttered, feeling Shouto’s hot, spit-slick dick pressing against your stomach, your cunt flipping and twisting at the thought of taking him all in.

“You’re still, fuck… you’re still hard?” you gasp, Shouto’s fingers tracing the innards of your thighs, scratching at your ass, slapping it once, twice, leaving you pitched and shaking.

“How can I not be when you’re down beneath me?” Shouto asks, his eyes looking at you as if he was burning the very naked image to you in his brain for him forever. “You’re mine, right?”

The question itself, while unexpected, was not unwanted.

You feel yourself nodding, your fingers scratching up his flexed arms, “Yours and only yours.”

“Good,” Shouto smirks, leaning in, his entire weight on the one hand beside your head, making you groan as his lips were so close yet so far away. “I’m yours as you are mine.”

With that, his fingers pressed to your thus far, unattended to clit, your legs shaking, kicking the air as you howled in pleasure. But it was such an intimate place, something you never expected Shouto to ever touch, and so, in a voice so pathetic you couldn’t even recognize it as yours, you screeched: “D-Don’t touch that!”

Shouto cocked an eyebrow, his head tilting as his fingers swirled around your swollen nub, sending just enough electrifying pleasure through every neuron in your body. “Why not?” he asked, voice authoritative and curious and sadistic. “It’s mine — you’re mine. I can play with what’s mine whenever I want.”

The words make your entire will collapse, the words liquid heat in your ears and mind. You moan loudly, feeling Shouto adjust your hips, lining your spasming cunt with his cock, and with his tongue delving into your mouth, his lips pressing against yours, he slowly pushed into you.

Shouto was loud the entire way into you, the deep grunts, breathless moans, and mindless babble of how this was unlike anything he’s had before, better than anything he’s ever imagined. He bottoms out quickly, hands leaving purple bruises against your skin as you lay on the bed silent.

Your back is entirely arched, jaw slacked, voice dead on your tongue because the feeling of him buried deep within you is staggering. You let out a single tone noise, your mouth gasping for breath as your voice finally begins to come back to you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper over and over, your legs tight around Shouto’s hips, shaking with the feeling in you. “God, y-you’re so big, Sho… I’m—”

You can’t finish your sentence because he shifts just enough that his cock is meeting places in you that had never been encountered before. Your eyes roll back again, your fingers pressing ruby red scars to his back as you scratch and tear his back.

“You’re so fucking tight, shit,” Shouto pants, his mouth panting against the sweat on your collarbone, his own breathing heavy and spaced. “You’re perfect, y/n, so fucking perfect.”

You preen with those words, your mouth finding a home at his temple to which you kiss him, drag your lips down to his ear. You bite and nibble as you adjust to him buried deep within you. And he heaves a sigh and pushes up off you, eyes daring to stare into you as he huffs almost in disbelief of this entire night.

“I’m going to start moving,” he says, fingers scratching down your sides to your thighs. “Are you ready?”

Not trusting your voice, you nod. Shouto smiles, leaning back down for one last kiss to which you quickly returned, staying there as his hips moved backward before thrusting back into you. It's the first thrust of many, but your arms wrap even tighter underneath his own, your nails scarring his back as he goes again and again. You fucks into you deliberately, readily, with purpose and skill that speaks wonders and lives up to the many rumors you’ve ever heard.

His thrusts are powerful, slapping into your thighs with a mighty smack, making you whimper and wail into his salty neck as your hips lift up to meet his. It's a powerful dance, a dizzying cycle. His cock sliding up and down your puffy velvet walls, your weeping walls clenching him in a vice, unforgiving and unwilling to let go.

He speaks praises into your ear, your yours, your mouth.

“Such a pretty angel, moaning for me, crying for me, tell me you want my cock. Tell me you want me buried in your fucking stomach.”

You are converted to him in return, seeing him, speaking to him, devoted to him.

“Fuck, I want you more. Faster, harder! Don’t stop! I can feel you in my stomach, Sho! Fuck! Fuck me, fuck me fuck me!”

His weight is pressed on your thighs, spreading your thighs further apart, fucking into deeper, fucking you so powerfully, so desperately your soaked cunt squelches and drips your essence, soaking your bed and his legs. Your teeth sink into his skin, copper filling your mouth, and your vision feels missing as you are slamming your hips up, rolling them desperately to fuck back into him. You can feel his hand clutching yours, pressing it into the mattress as he somehow speeds up again, drilling you into the mattress, the bed creaking and bending under both your weight.

“More, more, more!”

And he gives, and gives, and gives.

You wail his name, the heat in your skin, tickling your clit and innards making you sweat, the alcohol on your skin sticking you to Shouto.

Shouto grunts your name, hisses your name, damns you heaven and back for having such a fucking grip on him. It's when he looks into your eyes, cock drilling into you at a speed and power that no human should ever obtain, one hand gripping yours and the other pinching and teasing your clit, you cum, bursting open at the seams.

Your orgasm is loud, clenching, all-consuming, and you drag Shouto down with you as he stammers, shudders, and cums deep within your womb. His seed spilling out of you as the both of you collapse onto the bed with breathless, thoughtless minds.

“Fuck,” he says.

“Right?” you chuckle.

And with your nose pressed to his sweaty, sex-lulled body, you fall asleep with his hands traveling up and down your spine. Hopefully, things would be well when you woke up.

P R E S E N T

To stop you from screeching so loudly you woke up the entire world, Shouto held his hand to your mouth, his eyes wide, terrified, and completely confused.

“Please stop yelling… my head hurts…” Shouto begs, his face completely exhausted but with that post-orgasm sleep glow.

“We had sex?!” you shriek, throwing his hand off your mouth. “We were mad at each other, and we had sex?!”

“Oh,” Shouto seems to remember, his head rolling before he sat up, bringing you up with him. “Right, we should talk about that, huh?”

“You think?!” you shriek, entirely overwhelmed with the fact that you had done so much embarrassing shit last night.

It’s quiet for a bit. The birds chirping outside an almost cheerful taunt as the both of you, for the first time in seventeen years, find it too awkward to talk. No one wants to speak first, to mention the elephant in the room, for once it happened, there really was no going back. Not that there was much to go back from.

“I’m in love with you,” Shouto finally says. It’s an admittance, a whisper that's strong despite it told in such a hushed voice as if you would laugh at him as he confessed. “I’ve actually been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Now that shocks you.

Your eyes are wide, and you’re staring at Shouto, unsure what to say, what to ask, but you know you need more answers.

“I know, hard to believe, huh?” Shouto chuckles, his hand running through his sex and sleep disheveled hair. “It’s true, though… I don’t remember not ever being in love with you.”

“No… no way,” you say, your body running cold, and you shiver. You remember then that you’re sitting up, and you’re very incredibly naked. Shouto notices and moves to grab a blanket at the foot of the bed and wraps it around you. “That doesn’t make sense,” you argue, your furrowed brows making your skin crease as you try to think back on all your years and memories, looking for signs in which Todoroki Shouto loved you. “You never showed it.”

“Camie said the same thing,” Shouto sighed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugged nonchalantly. “Before I was sixteen… I don’t know; I guess I could understand why. I only ever talked to you, always paired up with you. I let you hold my hand, and I let you hug me… I thought me telling you that I had never been kissed before would make you want to kiss me, but it never did. I know I was awkward and a little different when we were younger, so when I was paired up with Camie… I thought she would help me.”

“By fucking you?” you asked, your frown deepening as you remembered your bitter feelings over Camie stealing Shouto’s virginity.

“She… she said that by being sexual, maybe you would see me as a man, and not the four-year-old crying boy in preschool,” Shouto smiled sadly, his fingers picking at one another. “Me having sex was supposed to show you that I was a man who wanted to see you as a woman in return, but it didn’t work.”

“Well, no shit,” you snort, relaxing a bit although you felt limp. You found yourself leaning against Shouto��s strong shoulders, your head landing heavily on him. “You went from a virgin to fucking anything with a wet hole.”

“...yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Shouto said with regret, his shoulders sagging just a bit. “At first, I thought I needed to fuck more girls to prove I was a man to you because you acted like nothing had happened after Camie… but sex was fun, it felt good.”

“Sex is good,” you agree with a soft chuckle to which he returned.

He shifted a bit, arms tightening and relaxing before he finally admitted, “It helped distract me from you because you looked at others the way I wanted you to look at me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper back.

“No, don’t be,” Shouto speaks firmly, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It was my fault. I was never assertive enough, confident enough to simply confess.”

“So, does you being in love with me having anything to do with you driving the entire male population away from me?”

Your eyes look up at him, finding his embarrassed gaze before he glances away.

“That actually wasn’t intentional… I guess I just talk about you a lot.”

“Yeah, but still doesn’t mean you couldn’t ever deny it yourself!”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Apologize then.”

“Y/l/n Y/n, I am sorry for making the entire male population we’ve ever come across think we were an item and not telling them otherwise. I am sorry for keeping you from enjoying sex while I continued to. I am lousy, and my love for you should be unreturned because that was ass of me.”

You sigh, your lips pursed to keep from smiling as you looked back at his handsome face.

“Now, ask me the damn question, crybaby.”

“Crybaby?”

“You finally admitted that you were, in fact, crying!!!!!”

If you asked Shishikura Seiji what the worst thing about being the third roommate to Todoroki Shouto and you was, he would give a million and three answers as to why it was the worst.

One: he absolutely hated how loud the both of you were. Todoroki Shouto was someone he thought was quiet and introverted, but whenever he was around you, he was loud. You were just plain old loud, and he thought it was annoying.

Two: he absolutely hated your rice. Call it petty, but after you fed him on his first night and tried putting him into a chokehold for saying the song your rice cooker sang at its end was the stupidest fucking thing ever made, everything you made taste like ash and dirt.

Twenty: he hated that there were biweekly karaoke nights. He would be studying away in his room and wanted to die when he heard the all too familiar sound of Mamma Mia’s Here We Go Again blasting in the living room.

Hundred fifty-seven: SO. MUCH. FUCKING. SEX.

Three hundred thirteen: SO. MUCH. DRINKING.

Five thousand: SO. MUCH. WEED.

Ten thousand three: you put his toilet seat up whenever you’re drunk, so he falls in when he goes to pee in the morning.

Five hundred: the way the both of you looked at each other, fucking disgusting.

To say the least, there were a lot of many different reasons scaling from actual issues to petty small shit, but Shishikura was not in any position to find a new apartment, so he stayed. To be quite honest, having been living with Dumb and Dumber (you and Shouto, respectively), he only thought there would be one thing that would make him lose his actual mind.

The day that would inevitably come and the both of you realized your feelings were, in fact, returned. He didn’t want to even imagine how the animalistic sex he often had to hear coming from your hallway would increase, or the sappy stupid romantic love he would see in the living room because as best friends, you both had no care for PDA and if you were allowed to kiss? Allowed to have sex? He feared he would have to wear a hazmat suit in every corner of the apartment. You both were already incredibly loud as a duo (see reason one as to why he hates living here); he feared the worst when the mutual love was realized.

But he exited his room a week after that Sunday morning with a fully loaded water gun just in case. His eyes narrowed, the hair on his neck raised as his beady eyes focused in on the living room.

Shouto sat on the couch, his back on the armrest, and you sitting between his thighs as you watched him play some game on his Switch, your smile large and annoyingly bright, but he realized that he couldn’t hear you screaming or speaking so loudly he could listen to the conversation.

No, as a matter of fact, Shishikura couldn’t hear a single word; the words being exchanged between you and Shouto spoke so softly, so intimately, it shocked him. Shishikura noticed with an almost awed surprise that even though your smile was as annoyingly bright as before. It wasn’t directed at anything but Shouto, and Shouto’s smile, while nowhere near as big, just as warm and full to you.

It was intimate, romantic even.

Nothing had changed in your relationship except now, finally, now, you were allowed to kiss and fuck each other like heat-driven animals.

Shishikura was shocked to his core, unable to comprehend the sight in front of him.

You nor Shouto paid him any mind, too lost in the game and in each other to look his way as he made his way into the kitchen for his lunch. Shishikura set the water gun on the counter, a small smile spreading on his face despite himself, and chuckled.

Maybe the two of you together weren’t something to hate on after all.

“Hey, is that a water gun?!”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

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