#i got exams coming up and i had to get my costume into shape | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

house sitting & concupiscence

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

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

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

word count: 18,631

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

message to join tag list :)

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shouto?”

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

“…we have to cancel the reservation.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If Endeavor doesn’t want me—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then he let out a dark chuckle.

And you were too slow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shouto! This is—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But no, you couldn’t do this!

“Shouto, let’s — oh my god!”

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

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

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

Not daring to open your eyes in fear of having this gone too soon, you feel yourself nodding.

“Fuck me right then…”

A chuckle deep in his throat reverberated against you, and then you felt his lips back on you.

Hot, fast, dangerous.

You struggled to keep up as Shouto tossed you up, and your legs automatically went to wrap around his waist.

Hunger, desire, need.

That was the way Shouto kissed you right now, his lips downright eager, yet it wasn’t the right word to use. You could feel his hard-on pressing against your ass as you drew him in closer. Hands pressed against his neck, clawing at the bare skin as you wanted more from him — you craved more from him.

It was when you pressed your chest into him that caused a small yelp of protest to escape your lips. In your impassioned drunkness, Shouto had been holding your ass firmly in his grip. His fingers digging into your soft flesh under the hem of your dress until he seemed to be sick of it.

The sound of ripping fabric echoed in your ears as you pulled away from Shouto’s luring mouth. The dress fell loose around your body as you watched as he pulled the remains of your dress from between the two of you. You slammed your hands against his chest in protest as Shouto took the destroyed material and tossed it onto the floor.

“It was in the way,” Shouto chuckles as he ignores your protests as he brings you back in for another kiss. “I’ll buy you a new one, I’m the one who bought it after all.”

Your eyes twitch as his fingers trace the lingerie that remained secured on your body; the anger you had vanished quickly the moment he brushed his thumb over your clothed nipple. Yes, there were apparent problems with knowing everything about your partner’s body, as in times like this, your anger flew out the window as his thumb and forefinger pinched your nipple.

You reacted with a shrill mewl as your hips automatically ground against his, and your head slammed against his shoulder. You felt his cold fingers press the bra down, and your mind nearly went blank as his calloused fingers made contact with your sensitive nipples.

“S-Shouto,” you stammer as you feel your neck blushing as his teeth nip at your earlobe, tingling pleasure scorching your body as he does it a few more times. Low and sultry moans escape your mouth as the heightening bliss of this interaction was getting to you.

“Fuck,” Shouto chuckled as he began moving towards the bed, and you tremble as the friction between your crotches increase. The pressure of his clothed cock sends your mind spinning against your barely covered core. “You’re so gorgeous, love.”

Panting in agreement, your hips bucked weakly against his as the pleasure of him biting your earlobe, his fingers pinching, pulling, and rolling your nipple, and the way his hips met your grinding hips.

Low and pounding heat grew in your stomach, and you whimpered as his hand groped your breast.

But then it was gone, and your body was tossed against a soft bed.

The coolness and freshness of the sheets once more sent a memory of whose bed this was. And the consequences for your actions.

“Shouto!” You squeaked as Shouto climbed onto the bed, his hands holding the lube as his eyes glanced at you.

Lust, amazement, love, and confusion.

“What is it?”

“This is Endeavors bed,” you find yourself repeating, although you were past the point of caring. It just came back up like word vomit.

“Fuck what he says,” Shouto snaps as he drops the lube. His eyebrows were scrunched together in his annoyance and anger, and you could see the muscles flaring in his jaw. There’s a cold laugh that leaves Shouto’s mouth as he grabs the spreader, and you feel your heart stop. “I don’t like it when you’re saying other trash names when I’m about to fuck you, princess.”

Your eyes widen as Shouto is by your feet with the spreader, his head down, and his hair falling to cover his dark eyes.

“I think you need to prove to me that you deserve to let me fuck you.”

Before you could ask, before you could question his actions, Shouto tore your panties from your hips and held them in his fingers. His eyes widening as he sees the soaked thin fabric between his fingers.

You sat up straight, trying to grab for your panties, embarrassed by how wet you had been even though practically nothing had happened. But Shouto was faster and far stronger. With a heavy hand, he shoved your shoulder back, and you fell back onto the mattress, and as you collected yourself, something tight wrapped around your ankles.

“SHOUTO!”

On your ankles sat the spreader bar, the black steel shining dangerously at you as you stared up at your boyfriend, who placed your panties into his slack pockets.

“You’ll get those back if you behave,” Shouto hums as he sat down. “Now, if you want my cock, you better make yourself cum.”

“I’m not masturbating,” you snap embarrassed as you felt exposed. Your legs were wide open, your slick essence already coating your inner thighs and the smell of your sex filling your nose as you tried in repetitive failure to close your legs.

“Fine,” Shouto says coolly as he stands up from the bed. “Have fun letting Endeavor see you like this. Cunt wet and exposed like a filthy fucking whore.”

You’re stunned into silence as you watch as he walks towards the door, his eyes unamused yet challenging as he places a hand on the knob.

“But you would like that, huh? You’d let other men fuck what’s mine? Is this what you wanted all along?”

Shouto lets out a dry laugh as he dares you to not do anything, but the pure stupidity behind his words makes you angry. It boils in your stomach as you lay down, your eye contact not breaking as you pull down the other bra cup. Then your fingers trail from your collarbone down to your breasts, teasing your pert nipples.

Electrifying pleasure rolls through you as you play with your breasts. Each tug, pull and turn making your knees slam together in an attempt to get friction to your cunt.

“Come on,” Shouto smirks as he rests at the foot of the bed. His arms are crossed against his chest, and he’s drinking you in. “Put your fingers where you want me.”

“I’m not putting my fingers up my ass,” you grin, your bottom lip captured between your teeth as another building pleasure slams through your body.

Shouto doesn’t say anything, his eyes only getting darker as you bring your fleshy mounds to your mouth and take a playful bite.

Eyes were powerful, and Shouto had some of the most intense eyes you’d ever known. So the way he gorged your figure as your hand flattened against your skin while trailing down your navel to where you were desperate for attention set your skin on fire.

Your legs trembled as the nail of your middle finger teased the middle of your lower lips, and you felt like you were choking at the way he zeroed in on your teasing fingers.

“Give me a show.”

Groaning at the way his words clung to you, your fingers pressed against your throbbing clit as your eye contact was broken by your head tossing back. You were so turned on that this gentle pressure felt overwhelming as you cried his name.

Your other hand dropping your breast and pressed against your inner thigh, your other fingers moving from your clit to your cunt.

In went one finger, the initial tightness making you sigh as you pumped your finger with no intent in mind. Then went in another finger and another. Your inner walls clenching around your intruding fingers, making you gasp at the velvety warmth of it all. Eyes fluttering open, you move your wrist, and your fingers move fluidly within you.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” Shouto groans as he watches your movements like a hawk, his eyes burning themselves into your exposed cunt.

But it made you feel so good.

With a single heave, your pumping fingers increased in their speed and intensity. Growing so much, your walls squeezed against your moving fingers. Your fingers pounded into your wet core, the sounds of the entering and exiting appendages, making you whine as your free hand pressed against your clit. Your hips bucked up against your moving fingers in an attempt to further increase this intense desire.

Your fingers continued to dance against your needy clit as you shook.

Hot fire slammed to your toes as they curled in your overwhelming pleasure. Your eyes clenching closed as you rubbed hard and fast circles into your desperate clit. Your back arching off the bed multiple times, almost ending with you falling onto your side due to the imbalance caused by the restraint bar.

Faster and hard, faster, and harder.

The squelching of your soaked pussy and pistoning fingers were heavy in your ear as you shrieked. Your legs were spasming, kicking, and your hips thrusting as your end was nearing fast. Shouto’s name continued to be cried from your mouth as you curled your fingers in you, and your fingers pinched your clit, and then an idea slams through you.

Use Endeavor’s name.

And as your orgasm crashed through you, a pitched scream sounded in the room as it all clashed within you.

His name was used.

Your body trembling as you lay on the bed, your fingers still knuckle deep within you as you pant. Your slick essence coats your hands as you manage to sit up, out of breath, and staring at Shouto in a challenging way as you removed your fingers from within you.

There’s a scoff, a sound almost similar to a snarl, and you watch as Shouto shakes his head.

“Aren’t you being a fucking slut.”

Blinking slowly, you heard his pants hit the ground when the belt clacked against the wooden floors. Then you saw that he was by your legs, his cock erect and pressing onto his stomach, the head already beading. Pre-cum dripped from his tip, and you feel victorious at the way he was so turned on.

But it seemed that the dress wasn’t the only thing being destroyed today.

His left hand held onto the fabric of your bra, and you watched in heated horror as he reduced the lingerie to ash.

“Shouto?! What the fu— mmph?!”

Shouto shoved your cum slick fingers in your mouth, and you mewled at the taste of your sweet essence on your fingers.

“Suck it all off,” he practically hissed as he moved your wrists, emulating a blowjob as you groaned against your fingers. “You don’t deserve to be fucked like a princess, do you?”

Your protests against your fingers were ignored as he pressed you against the bed, and you choked as your fingernail stabbed the back of your throat. But it didn’t matter to Shouto, no, not at all.

“If you want to be saying Endeavor’s — fucking scum’s name in bed, I’ll treat you no better than a fucking whore.”

There was a moment of silence as he watched you gag against your own fingers, his weight keeping you locked onto the mattress. But then it was over, and his hand grabbed the bar between your ankles, and he yanked it up.

Your teeth lock around your fingers in your surprise, but he lets go of your wrist, your eyes lock on his as your knees rest beside your chest, and you blink in confusion as he glares down at you.

“Hold it,” he commands as your hands move to hold the bar. It’s cold against your fingers, and the areas that are coated with your saliva make the bar slippery and wet.

“W-Why?” You hoarsely ask, your throat thick from the continuous stabbing of your finger. Typically when the bar was used, Shouto always held it.

“I told you you were going to be fucked like a whore, right? That makes you easy. I don’t need to work hard for someone who does this daily. But that means you should be good at this, so see that clock? In ten minutes, if you cum more than three times, you’ll get punished.”

Your mouth opens to respond to him, but Shouto presses his hands against the bottom of your thighs and, with accurate precision, thrusts wholly into you.

Your grip on the bar almost weakens entirely as his cock fills you completely, your words of protest become gasping pleas as the tip of his cock presses against your cervix, and you feel dizzy, your fluttering walls adjusting. His cock was thick, and it was lengthy; your inner walls ached against him as you adjusted, but regardless of how tight it felt, you could sense your essence spilling from you as Shouto sighed.

He shifted, and in a matter of seconds, you watched as his hips snapped backward before thrusting back into you.

The stretch of your legs makes you feel as if you weren’t breathing correctly. Each breath was short and raspy as you clung to the metal bar as Shouto repetitively slams his cock into your cunt.

“Shit, such a pretty cunt you have,” he rasps as your walls spam against him with his wild thrusts. He moves his hands further up your legs so that they press against your knees, pushing you into the mattress, increasing the angle of which he drills down into you.

Pathetically, your hips attempt to rise up in meet him, to increase this brutal force he was using as you crave even more. It was too much.

The sounds of his cock slamming into your sopping pussy created loud wet noises that you cried in embarrassment, but Shouto found it as an excuse to speed up. His rugged grunts are music to your ears as his cock hits your walls every time. The stretch he gives you was boggling, and you were progressively less cognitive aware as he drilled in harder. His slams were so hard that the sound of his thighs hitting your ass let out a continuous and loud slap.

His fingers gorge into your skin, and you cry his name like a hopeful prayer as he is fueled by your appraisal.

Your hands are weak against the bar, and it feels as if it’s slipping the moment he releases his right hand from your leg. You cry as the angle of penetration lessens, but his ramming continues at the same pace, and his fingers land on a puffy and sensitive bundle of nerves. The simple action set you enflame as you wailed his name, and Shouto bit your inner calf as his finger cooled dramatically against your clit.

The difference between your body that felt like it was on fire and the bitter ice of his fingers made your body spasm uncontrollably. The bar was being pulled in by your forearms as exploding pleasure slams through every vein in your body. But your thrashing and wailing do not stop Shouto, nor do they lessen the pace and the force he’s settled in as the bed begins to sway with every powerful thrust.

“I needa— holy shit, r-right there!”

“What? Do you need to come already?” Shouto mocks against your calve, and you whimper as he bites it again.

Your eyes can no longer stay open as the only noises leaving your mouth are whines and begs for more. You forcibly clench around him in an attempt to stir a reaction from him, but all he does is curse loudly as he continues his rutting force. The pounding is rhythmic. The feeling of Shouto’s cock entering and leaving you draws your eyes to the back of your head as you whimper his name, his thighs hitting your ass at bruising force, only adding to your pleasure. His finger getting colder by the second as it simmers against your burning clit. Your heart hammering in your ears as you heard Shouto snap at you.

“Cum.”

The orgasm that had been surging within you crashed through you in a fiery white heat as your jaw slacks in a silent scream. Your body convulses against your hold and his, but Shouto doesn’t stop, not even when your toes curl, not even when you sob.

“Shouto!”

He pulled out then, his pants heavy in your ear, and something ripped through you as the weirdest sensation floods through you. Your cunt throbs uncharacteristically harder as you softly sob Shouto’s name.

You had squirted.

It was all over the comforter; there was even some on Shouto’s lower abs that shone in a mixture of sweat and you.

Your head slams back into the mattress as you can feel your heartbeat in your cunt, your chest heaving at the experience you just had. You’ve never squirted before, and your body felt like it was short-circuiting as you remained on your back.

“Look at that,” Shouto mused as he unfastened the restraints on your ankles, and your thighs crashed together, an inevitable soreness throbbing within as you lay speechless. That had winded you. “For someone not wanting to make a scene on his bed, you just wet a whole portion to it. I don’t think you even care if he finds out I fucked you on his bed, y/n. A little whore like you, you probably want the entire neighborhood to know.”

“I don’t,” you gasp as you struggle to find your breath still, and Shouto hums as he turns you over onto your stomach.

You’re not sure if it was a forcible push or something gentle. All you know is that your body burned where he touched you, and your thighs ached as you settled on your stomach.

“How the fuck am I supposed to fuck you like that?” Shouto snaps at you, and your eyes widen as you shift your head to look at Shouto’s whose cock is still erect, and you realize in a dawning horror that you had come twice now, and he had not.

Then there was the challenge, he only had to make you come three more times to do whatever insidious things he had planned. Your fingers fisted in the sheets as you groaned loudly. His body heat radiated onto you, and you rub your thighs together at the thought of Shouto gripping your ass as he drilled into you from behind.

You needed to get him to do that, but to make sure you didn’t come.

“I don’t want to,” you stall, hoping that in moments like these, it would help in your favor.

“Let go of the sheets,” Shouto ignores you as he gives a pointed look at your hands that clutched the sheets.

“Nope.”

The heat he provided was suddenly gone, and your eyes widened as a closet door creaks open. You watch as Shouto stands by a closet, a hand on his hip as he studies the closet before him, and you let out a strangled noise as you can already taste what he’s getting out.

“Shouto, do not!”

“Don’t what?” Shouto asks as he pulls out four brightly colored ties that Endeavor owned. “They’ll get cleaned up and put away, I mean look at the mess you already made, this shouldn’t concern you.”

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment as you look at the stained sheets below you, and you sit on your knees as you cross your arms.

“Using Endeavors clothes as bondage is going too far!”

Shouto looked at you, his eyes annoyed, angry, and uncaring, then he shrugs. He takes a few strides, and he’s back on the bed.

“He should have thought of that before being a dick.”

There was no time to react as Shouto grabbed your wrists in his hand and tugged you towards him. Before you could attempt to pull back, to resist ruining more of Endeavors’ personal belongings, the tie is properly looped around your arms, and you’re locked in place.

“Now on your hands and knees like a good slut,” Shouto directs running a hand through his sweaty locks while rising to his knees. The tie is almost uncomfortable with how tight it is, and you remain stagnant, staring at your boyfriend, who was insistently becoming more of a dom than you had ever seen him as. But with your lack of action, his expression sours, and he grasps your cheeks in his hand. “Are you fucking deaf?

You gasp loudly when Shouto’s hand brings your face to the mattress, your back curved, arms pressed into your breasts.

“I thought whores had better form than this,” Shouto sneers while pressing a heavy hand against the center of your spine. You adjusted immediately under his force, your back arching with your pert ass in the air. “Much better.”

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

“Shouto, please,” your voice pleads again; his hands roam your ass and hips, whispering nasty sweet things to you while the tip of his cock presses against your still wet cunt. “Don’t make a mess of me, not on Endeavors bed.”

There was a moment of silence while his hands disappeared from your skin. Licking your lips, you turned your head to see what exactly his expression was. But you were too late.

He slammed his right hand against your ass cheek, causing you to shriek while your skin throbbed in his wake. The pain made your legs buckle, a hot pressure reigniting in your core, and another loud slap repeated on your opposite cheek.

Fisting in your hair, you yelped loudly when Shouto yanked your head back. The arch in your back was dramatized by this action; your back ached as another heavy slap echoed against your troubled skin. His dense, almost wild breathing hits the shell of your ear, and chills shoot down your spine when he snarls.

“Who the fuck matters to you right now?” He hisses in your ear. “Is it Endeavor fucking you on this bed right now? No—” his hand comes down against your ass with every word, ignoring your growing sobs— “I’m the one fucking you. The only man’s name you should be uttering is mine. Do. You. Understand?”

The next spank that comes across your ass nearly sends you tumbling over at the strength and power behind it. Your arms buckle under you, the weight and struggle to keep yourself upright was a challenge as Shouto abused your ass.

“Answer me, whore.”

There was no stopping Shouto’s heavy hand against your pert ass, and you could not think of anything but how your cunt throbbed for the man behind you. Your sobs of pain had long ago become those of pleasure, and you could feel the raised prints of his hands on your sore cheeks. It delighted you.

“Y-Yes, sir!” You pant, your body trembling in your excitement and need for more.

“You like this, don’t you,” he sneers while he rubs circles against your heated skin. “You’re trembling with excitement as you try telling me you don’t want me to fuck you here. Do you want me to leave you here? With no clothes, no way back home? Count the number of times I spank you, I want to hear you counting and thanking me every time.”

Slap.

“One. T-Thank you, sir.”

Your words were barely above a whisper, just enough for Shouto to hear you thank him as you trembled like a leaf before him. His upper lip pulled back into a sneer as he let go of your hair, throwing your head into the mattress, and his fingers go and pinch your nether lips, and you cried loudly.

“I know you can fucking scream louder than that, don’t make me ask again. From the top.”

The words were like honey to your ear, and you shifted in an attempt to ease the growing lust between your legs.

Slap.

“One! Thank you, s-sir!”

Your mind reeled as Shouto continued his conquest against your ass. You could barely remember the number you were on by the time he was done with you, the added sensation of his alternating heated and chilled hands increasing the desire in you to find you as you were now. Ass bright red and in the air, back arched further than you had ever gone, and saliva and tears seeping onto your bond arms.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he observes as two of his fingers slide against your wet slit, and your ragged moans fill the area at the need of more. He continued petting you, and while feeling finally returned to your abused ass, your hips began to buck against his wandering hands, trying to get them to slip between the folds. “Such a greedy little slut.”

His chuckle is barely heard by you, for as he said that, he pressed the head of his cock into your cunt. A sharp whine slams from your throat as the emptiness of this action makes you crave more. You shift your ass back, the action full of temporary regret as soring pain flashes through your lower body. He did not hold back.

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

“Is this not good enough for you?” Shouto chuckles, but there’s no light humor to his laughter. “Good.”

At that phrase, Shouto slams into you at full force again, causing you to bite down hard against your saliva-coated and bound arms as you feel his cock twitch within you. Your breathing is harsh as you focus on the nightstand and see the clock. It’s felt like an eternity, but only three minutes had passed since the bet was made. If you won, you’d move this fuck feast into his bedroom.

“Seven minutes,” you choke against your skin, not wanting to show how turned on you were.

The instant you were done chiding him, you regretted telling Shouto the amount of time he had left. The bed shifted by your knees, and you could only imagine what was happening as you could feel his cock moving out of you and slamming back into you.

The angle and power behind these thrusts were different than what you were used to from the standard doggy style. With each hypnotizing slam of his hips, shrill moans of pleasures ripped from your throat, and you preened your head to look at Shouto.

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

“That feels so — fuck — do that!”

“Who—” slap— “Are—” slap— “You—” slap— “Addressing?!” Slap!

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

Shouto chuckles at your praise, all while he continues to fuck you roughly. He was in a zone, his concentration like steel as he pounded into you again and again. Your inner walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating cock, and the heated pressure had built up all over again.

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

“Fucking cum with me,” he demands, jerking your head back towards him again, and you sob as your legs tremble against his increasing power.

You feel your eyes cross, screaming out his name as your walls clamp down fiercely against his length. Shouto curses loudly, pulling out of you while your cum drips from your folds. But a hot and sticky substance hits the curve of your ass while Shouto lets out a string of curses, and you moan knowing that he came on you.

“That was two,” Shouto reminds you as you groan into the sheets.

“That was two,” you mock hoarsely, but you’re unable to move, your body locked in the way he had fucked you.

“Look,” Shouto says, ignoring your disrespect, for you can hear the prideful smirk on his tone as he forces you onto your side. “You made another mess.”

“You’re cleaning up Endeavors bed when we’re done,” you whimper, making no attempt to sit up, your body screaming in pain when you lay still.

“You really can’t seem to get his name out of your fucking mouth, can you?” Shouto barks while he moves to sit against the headboard. “What do I have to do to get you to fucking forget him? Choke you until you pass out? Break that pretty little mind and pussy of yours?”

There is no time to argue, Shouto grabs your legs and drags you over to him, your sensitive ass burning against the cum soaked comforter until you were at his side. Your pained breaths still as Shouto glares down at you, his left hand undoing the saliva-coated tie around your wrists, leaving the fabric slightly burnt while he tosses it to the side. Your arms throb as blood rushes back through it.

But before you could relish the feeling of your arms back, Shouto has his chest pressed against your back, and his right hand angling his once again hardening cock upwards.

“Since I mean nothing to you, make yourself cum.”

With that, he dropped your aching pussy onto his dick.

The feeling of his cock wholly sheathed within you, mercilessly slamming against the wall of your cervix and staying pressed tightly there. The delirious sensation made your head crash back against his shoulder, and your legs kicked out in response. Loud and low moans reverberated from your lips while adjusting to him buried within you again.

Your mind reeled while you adjusted, and Shouto angled his knees up, his scorching and robust grip moving your legs outside of his, causing your hips to spread against him.

“I told you to move,” he snaps, his fingers twisting your sensitive nipple harshly, your resulting wail muffled by you burying your face into his neck. “I didn’t pay for you to sit there.”

Puffs of air escaped your mouth quickly, and your feet shakily pressed into the mattress. You needed to move for him. But you were too slow, and a sharp and icy cold slap hit your clit.

Your body impulsively arched forward, your body rising up from his cock before you collapsed back down. But the sensation of his cock hitting your cervix made you shudder.

“Faster.”

So you began to rise and fall against his length, his hot breathing fanning against your sweat-soaked skin made your body shudder against his. His fingers found a place on your hips to hold, and you moaned at his bruising grip.

Your thighs burned with every bounce of your body, your head lolling to the side, stammering Shouto’s name as your walls clenched and squeezed against his hard cock. You wanted more of him. You needed more of him. Choked out screams rung from your throat as your hand gripped onto his knees, your body trying to support the numb ache that was shooting through your body.

“Shouto,” you puff, his fingers digging into your flesh, making you gasp.

“Why don’t you follow fucking instructions,” Shouto gnashes his teeth, and his left-hand moves from your hip to your clit. A jolt of massive arousal shoots through your body, a warm presence pressing into you as he teases your clit, causing you to roll your hips against his. But it grows hot, hotter, and hotter. It’s too hot, and his movements are painful yet disgustingly pleasurable. Pained and animalistic sobs pouring from your mouth while he deliberately abuses your throat. “What are you supposed to call me?!”

“S-Sir!” You weep, slamming your hips back down against his in pathetic attempt to lose his hold against your puffy nerve. “I’m supposed to c-call you, sir!!”

“Then why haven’t you been?!” Before you could attempt to respond, Shouto’s right-hand leaves your hip and slams to your throat, choking the response from you. “I don’t want to hear your answer.”

His hand remains heavy and tight around your throat, his hold barely allowing oxygen to travel through to your lungs. Your vision fuzzed, and you could feel your heartbeat in your head, but your core shook with Shouto’s now reciprocating and rhythmic slams.

Choking, clit stimulation, his cock pounding into your cervix, his fingers hotter than coal, and Shouto chuckled into your skin. His thrusting hips were becoming more precise, angling into you in a way that made you audibly choke when you needed to gasp. Maybe it was the lack of oxygen to your body that was making you delirious, or perhaps it was the fact that he was slamming into you with the strength of rearranging your guts, but your hips began to swivel at an inhumane pace. Your cunt held a vice grip around his cock, yet it did nothing to slow Shouto down, but the growing heated pit in your lower belly was making your legs tremble against his. Still, you tried to keep up with his rough and cruel pace, and Shouto enjoyed knowing that detail.

“Such a fucking tramp, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He sneers, his teeth biting down against the curve of your shoulder. “You enjoy being choked?”

Your head nods, “Y-Yes, sir!”

“Do you need to cum?” There was no reason for Shouto to ask that; the answer was obvious enough. “Good.”

If you thought Shouto was rough, as soon as that word rolled off his tongue, he only got worse.

His hand against your throat tightened, and black dots littered your vision; the coldness of his ice burned against your skin. His teeth sunk far into your skin, enough for you to feel your skin breaking as his tongue moving in cold and heated strokes to calm your now irritated skin. Then there were his nimble fingers running against your clit, and entering your cunt between your spastic walls and his hammering and throbbing cock. But your bouncing held no value anymore, Shouto’s hips snapped upwards fast enough and powerful enough to overcome and overwhelm you. The only thing you could tell was that along with the tip of his cock hitting your bruised walls, the sounds of your sopping wet pussy crashing against his forceful hips rang in your ears in a primal yet excited fashion.

Despite his hold on your neck, nothing was holding back the scream that left your mouth as you orgasmed.

White stars filled your vision as Shouto ripped his cock from you, and that same sensation of peeing bewildered you as he held your body up. You had squirted again, but your ragged and shallow breathing had only increased, and there was something warm and wet painted on your back.

“That was three,” Shouto whispers into your ear, his teeth tugging at your earlobe, and you shuddered. “I should get extra points for making you squirt.”

To that, all you could muster was an embarrassing moan as your dazed eyes focused on yet another wet stain on the bed. Three minutes left, that’s how much you had to endure to win.

Three more minutes.

Unfortunately for you, Shouto was well aware of this, so he wasted no time.

Once again, he shoved you to the side. Your body crumpling onto the mattress, aching and sharp pains flooding your body as you lay there. Your clit throbbed in time with your heartbeat, and your inner thighs were coated entirely with your cum — both new and old. Maybe your body would be incapable of cumming at this point now? You sure hoped so… or not.

“Up,” Shouto commanded but gave you no autonomy since he grabbed your hair by the roots and tugged you onto your knees. You whimper in your throat at the stabbing pain settling in your lower body, you were still recovering from him rearranging your guts. But you caught sight of the cum he had released onto your back pressed all over the covers, and your breathing stopped.

“Shou— ack!!”

A collar locked around your throat, and you wheezed loudly; you hadn’t managed to catch your breath still. Your body swayed forward into his hold as your head spun due to the lack of oxygen, but Shouto seized you his eyes wide and worried as he stared at you.

“Shit, baby, are you okay?”

You nodded your head, oxygen slowly spreading back into your body.

“Sorry,” you hoarse, pushing away, your face burning with embarrassment. “You just surprised me.”

Shouto seemed unconvinced as his hands held onto your cheeks, his fingers stroking your sweat plastered hair out of the way, tracing your bruised lips and against the marks and bites on your exposed skin. The delicate touches are long forgotten on your skin, your lips sighing while he sends warm pulses from his fingers to the aches of your joints.

“You sure?”

Rolling your eyes, you shoved Shouto away, “I’m fine! You just made me spread your cum on Endeavor’s bed!”

Just like that, your loving boyfriend died, and the man who had been fucking you this entire day was back. His hands locked back to where the collar was, and your eyes nearly boggled out of your sockets when he tightened it more until it burned to breathe. But you remained calmed as a black leash appeared from seemingly nowhere and attached to the collar.

“Since you liked being choked so much, I might as well give you what you want without straining me.”

Your eyes widened, your ability to talk back removed.

“Now, ride my cock again,” he grins with the slightest hint sadistic, and as you move to do as instructed, he yanks at the leash. Falling onto your hands, your eyes widen while you stare at Shouto, who merely raises a cocky brow at you. “You have two minutes to make yourself cum.”

“I’m not going to,” you strain, the choking of the collar and the simple manipulation of your body already making that all too familiar heat spread upon your loins.

“You don’t have a choice,” Shouto mocks, his hand moving to grasp the leash centimeters from the collar and yanks your face close to his. But the movement is sharp and rough, the collar strangling you. You scramble on your hands and knees to get closer, stopping when his lips ghost over yours. “And you won’t have one until you’re begging me to fuck you into a puddle, not until you’re nothing more than my cum slut, and until you no longer care about dirtying Endeavors bed.”

The words are fire on your skin, and bubbling lust grows in you again.

There’s nothing to say except give a doe-eyed nod, but Shouto appreciates this submission as his lips take yours. They’re hungry, possessive, and ardent, moving against your mouth with fervent intention. Your mind slips when you straddle him, your soaked core brushing against his tip, and Shouto guides you back down onto his cock.

Your abused pussy had been through a lot, and a loud hiss passes through your teeth as you sunk all the way on him. Your teeth biting onto Shouto’s lip to control the pain-filled pleasure that corroded your body at the moment. It still felt so crazed, the sensation of your heartbeat in your inner walls shifting and hugging Shouto’s still throbbing head,

But the slowness is gone when Shouto pulls away. His hands on the leash as he yanks the cord up and back down.

“Follow my actions, “ Shouto warns, and you weakly nod.

His hand moves the leash back and forward, and the soreness of your cunt bleeds into your actions as you imitate him. Your rolling hips are slow, your hands pressing against his shoulders as you roll your hips against him. There’s a dark mutter from Shouto’s mouth when you lock eyes with him, and his nostrils flare. His hand suddenly grabs onto your waist, making you freeze in your decent back down onto his cock, but he beats you too it, for his cock rams into your dripping cunt. A shriek ripping from your throat as he pounds into you. Your fingers digging into his shoulders to hold onto for support.

“SHOUTO!” You shriek as he ruthlessly slams into you. His hips coming up so fast your body bounces with every thrust. Your moans tumble out in chokes, your face turning red as oxygen fails to fill your lungs. The thrusting is intense, and your hands on his shoulder are more of a lifeline; the bed is quick to move with your movements, the considerable bed groaning under the harsh actions. Its squeaks and tremors are loud in your ear alongside his insistent pounding.

“What’s that, whore?” He growls, his hips hammering into you at mind fogging speed. The leash on the collar being yanked to pull you closer; your bare and sweat-slick skin pressed against his. “What’s my fucking name?!”

“Sir!” you shriek as your pussy throbs around his pounding cock. You’re unable to even twirl your hips in rhythm with him. You were stuck to the lap, only able to feel his cock entering you at toe-curling speeds. “Oh my god, FUCK, please— I —shit!”

Words failed you miserably as Shouto’s hot and sweet tongue drags against your collarbone, his teeth burying into your primed skin as your eyes roll back.

Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. One more minute.

“You take my cock so well,” Shouto grunts as he releases one hand from your waist and runs it down your navel to press against your clit. Your head throws back, your back arching further into his chest as you scream again. Your pussy clenching with no remorse around his cock. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Do you want to come now, slut?”

You can only shake your head, you didn’t want to cum; the pressure continues to build and build.

“I need to hear your words.”

“I don’t need to cum,” you sob out as your body trembles under his thrusting, you’re so close you see stars. “I don’t need to — sir, please, I can — oH SHIT!!!”

Shouto growls as his hand wraps around the leash, wrapping it around your bruised neck as he tightens the chokehold on you. You’re being strangled, and the air feels like its burning as it goes down your tightened passage, but your cunt throbs in excitement when he presses his mouth to your ear, “I don’t give a shit if you don’t need to cum, you’ll do it regardless.” Your mouth dropped open, your eyes crossing, and a loud whine emitted from you when his hand moved to pinch your nipple, and his mouth found a place on your sensitive nipple.

That’s all it takes, and you come hard around his dick, his name ripping through your abused body as he groans. His tongue lashes against your nipple, his teeth tugging at the pebbled skin all while he continues pummeling into you. Chasing after his own orgasm now.

You pant harshly, moving your hips against his own. Your pussy still twitching around his throbbing dick. You hear him expel a wavering sigh, and you can feel him come within you. The heated fluid fills you up, and he lets go of your sore breast; he collapses onto the bed with you landing on his chest.

“You lost,” he whispers after a moment of silence. Your breath picked up in a panic, you were fucked. “On your knees.”

You groan loudly when Shouto sits up, lifting you up with him, and you can feel the intermingled cum dripping out of you, falling onto your thighs. Your eyes flutter when Shouto kneels before you, his face victorious and poised as he undoes the collar against your throat. Although you took a full breath of air with every, inhale, your breathing is finicky as you’re terrified of what’s to come. You’re silent while watching Shouto make his way make to the no longer neat line of sex toys.

He grabs two things: the vibrator, spreader bar, and four of Endeavors’ ties.

Shouto rises to his feet as he walks back towards you, and while you hated doing this on Endeavors — now filthy — bed, your mouth opened.

“Close your mouth, whore,” Shouto chides, his arms above his head tying the colored fabric to the fan blades above the bed.

“What are you—?!”

“You care too much about making a mess for some selfish pig,” Shouto shrugs, he falls into a squat after securing the ties to the fan. There’s a dark and almost amused glint in his eyes when he stares at you. “Now, I’ll give you a reason to worry.”

Before you could protest, pull away, or scramble from the center of the bed, Shouto grabs your right hand and secures the tie around it.

“Shouto!” You panic when he succeeds in capturing both your wrists. Breathing sharply, you looked up at the flimsy blades that curved under the weight of your arms. If you moved to harshly, if you struggled against this punishment or collapsed too early, it would break. Oh, no… snapping your head behind you to where your boyfriend was relocking your ankles into the spreader bar. “Please, baby, I can’t do this!”

Shouto ignores you, and cold sweat runs through you at what’s to come, you wouldn’t be able to resist bringing your elbows down if the vibrator was pressed into your clit. How were you supposed to not wholly destroy Endeavors’ property?!

“S-Sir, think this through!” You begin to word vomit in your desperation while Shouto presses the vibrator against your right thigh, the smooth head holds against your clit, and he uses two more ties to secure it into place. “The bed is already a-a mess, I squirted! Twice! You came two times on the bed! Not to mention my saliva and the cum that’s dripping out of me! I can’t — we can’t break his fan!”

Shouto is unconcerned, his tongue tracing his teeth while mocking concern, “Then I guess you’ll have to work extra hard not to ruin more things in his room. Considering you care about that shit still.”

Your mouth opened to argue again, your body feeling like you needed to fight this because there was no way you were going to be able to last with your arms above your head, legs unable to come together, and a vibrator pulsating into your cunt. But as soon as you made your initial noise, Shouto turned on the vibrator to low.

The low buzz of the vibrator filled the room, and your mouth dropped in a silent scream. Your body was half numb already, having cum multiple times within the past hour was causing your body to convulse on occasion, but now with the vibrations being sent straight to your core, you felt on edge once again.

Trying to control your visible reaction, your hands gripped onto the cloth ties, your arms quivering as you try to keep from pulling down, and your hips thrusting subconsciously to the vibrations.

“S-Sir!” You sob as the slow and steady build in your belly was already growing. Your eyes locked on Shouto, who was a length away, his eyes gleaming in sadistic joy as his hand ran up and down his once again hardening cock. “P-Please, tie me to the bed! Not to Endeavor’s fan.”

The glint disappeared.

“You just won’t let me enjoy my fucking victory, will you?!”

You sucked in a harsh breath when you shifted your hips, the head of the vibrator brushing deliciously against your softly throbbing clit. You thrilled at the feeling of the vibrations on your clit, and your toes curled as your head fell forward. You needed to keep vigilante, you had to continue complaining so that Shouto would cave.

But you had completely forgotten about the ball gag.

“Open up.” Your head shakes no when Shouto holds the ball gag against your lips, there’s a warning noise. A dark growl emitted from his throat, and you feel your heart rate spike when his other hand roughly pinched in your cheeks. Your mouth opens against your will, and you splutter when his fingers shove into your mouth. You try to bite down on his fingers, but Shouto’s fingers turn ice cold making your mouth widen further, so then the gag was placed behind your teeth pressing into your tongue. You feel him lean against you, his lips by your ear as he whispers, “I don’t fucking remember asking.”

His hand lowers, and he amps up the vibration of the vibrator, and your body stiffens under the powerful waves. Being gagged was the worst, first drool always seeped past your lips with this particular gag on, and the uncomfortable pressure on your tongue sent your gag reflex flaring. Staring up at the ceiling, your noises were muffled at the source, staggering pleasure shooting through your veins as the medium vibrations made your long-abused cunt weep.

Your slick coated the head of the vibrator, and soaked you inner thighs, soaking the tie where it held contact with your skin. Your body spasmed as you sobbed in pleasure, your mind reeling and short-circuiting when your head dropped.

Focusing onto Shouto, your legs nearly gave out at the sight of your sweating and smirking boyfriend, his ears tinged with blush, and his fist stroking his huge cock. You wanted to have him slamming into you with the vibrator pressed into your clit, not this.

“Aren’t you having fun,” he pronounces slowly, his eyes — still dark with excitement and lust — dropped to your soaked thighs. “You look fucking delicious right now, princess.”

You clenched your core, the feeling of the vibrator only intensified, and you gagged when you tried to cry out. The feeling of your saliva pooling from your lips mortified you, your body twitching as Shouto only laughs again.

“I think we should go higher,” Shouto groans, his eyes momentarily closing as you assume a particularly gratifying shiver crawls down his spine. The muffled sounds of your disapproval only make his smirk more sinister when he abandons his own length and moves closer to you. Your eyes are wide, body attempting to shift away from him, but there was nowhere to go.

Air passed through your nose are heavy and sharp breaths, your chest hammering, and your puffy nerves throbbing while the vibrator continued powering into you.

“You’re so messy,” he drawls on his knees before you, his fingers touching the saliva coating your chin, and you sob in anticipation of what’s to come. He trails his fingers down your throat, the slickness of your saliva cold against your raw and bruised neck. “Maybe you don’t really care about fucking up scums bed, do you?”

You make a disapproving noise, your will holding on to a thread, and you vigorously shake your head. Shouto hums, his upper lip curling before his hand flattened and smacked your breast right on your nipple.

There was a loud crack when your arms pulled down, and you shrieked, your eyes trying to choose between focusing on Shouto and the fan blade you very much could have just broken. You whimper, your body twisting in an attempt to show submission, but Shouto isn’t done.

With an icy cold hand, he hits your aching and hot breast again and again and again. Your pained and pleasured wails muffled while you choke against the ball, and saliva pours from your mouth, your body trembling with excitement.

“Shut up,” he hisses, bringing his other hand to your face and striking you.

Your head slams to the side, the throbbing of your cunt intensifies with the burning of his handprint. Why did you like being slapped?! Saliva dribbles from your lips when you straighten back up. A now unignorable ache fills your arms from being in this tiresome position for a while now.

Everything felt like it was burning, sensations, and wantonness flooding your senses galore.

“I forget you like this,” Shouto groans as his hands grope your breast. Pulling, kneading, gripping and pinching the soft and moldable flesh in his hands, Shouto grins at your whimpers and the soft groans of the fan above the two of you. “Break the fan, I dare you.”

Your eyes slam shut at those words, and they remained closed as his hot and cold hands trail down your torso, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your lips twitch, the involuntary action to bite down on your lip prohibited by the gag. He must have seen considering the teasing pinch to your ass.

It was then that you froze. He was flushed against you, and the feeling of his cock pressing into the bottom of your sternum. Shouto’s right hand snaked behind you, those fingers playing with your dripping sex, and his left hand skimmed down your right inner thigh, resting onto the switch that changed the vibrational power.

“Don’t worry, princess,” he speaks in a low tone, an arrogant tone to his voice, “I’ll make you cum again.”

There was no time to contemplate his actions, for the vibrator was turned onto the highest setting and pressed into your clit, and his fingers sunk into your sopping wet cunt.

Even with the ball gag, the shriek of being overstimulated was as loud. It was as if you didn’t have the gag on at all. Your arms lurched forward against your will, the fan creaking loudly as you fell onto Shouto. You trembled more than a leaf in a storm, his fingers pumping deliciously and savagely into you, leaving behind the squelching noise of your wet core. The buzzing of the vibrator clear and steady and his cock twitched between the two of your bodies.

Sobbing and drooling moans escaped the gag, and Shouto relished in his ability to manipulate your body like this. His teeth leaving nipping kisses against the broken skin he left minutes before.

But the feeling of his teeth against your aggravated skin, the sensation of the powerful vibrations against your clit, and how he was still so responsive to you was nothing against his pistoning fingers dragged against that particular spot in your walls. His fingers scraped and slammed against your g-spot, and you felt your vision give way as a powerful force crashed through you.

You had squirted again, only that it seemed to last forever this time. Your lower body throbbing in its wake.

Your head collapsed against his shoulder, and when your vision came back, it was hazy and swam in your eyes. Whether Shouto had noticed or not, he still was slamming his fingers within your cunt with such intensity that — alongside the still buzzing vibrator — pressure built again within you. Heat seeped through you, and tears fell from your eyes when you came again.

Everything felt lethargic when Shouto removed his knuckle deep fingers from your sopping cunt, his tongue lapping away any of your essence remaining on his fingers. With a long pause, he finally turned off the vibrator.

Your breathing was shallow, your head spinning while he removed the bondage from your wrists and ankles. Collapsing onto your face, you felt your slick running thick on your thighs, mixing with the sweat that soaked your skin too.

Good god, were you exhausted.

“You broke the fan,” Shouto murmured.

Shrieking against the gag, adrenaline shot through your veins as you looked up. The fan blade had visible cracks in it, and your jaw dropped further.

Oh, fuck!

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

You whimper in agreement, your leg shifting so that you could feel the wet puddle you had made this time around. However, there was no time to relax.

Shouto grabbed you by your armpits and dragged you to the edge of the bed. Choking, you stared at him startled. There was no use in asking what was happening; Shouto bent your knees and wrapped two ties around each leg. One holding your ankle and upper thigh together, and the other one near your knee.

“Good,” Shouto approved, walking back to the side of the bed where the toys lay. Though soreness struck your body, you rose to your elbows and watched Shouto grab the fuck machine before returning to the bedside. “Because you squirted.” He says with a coy smile, lining the dildo to your exposed pussy and thrusting it in.

Your body slammed back down against the bed at the slickness of the dildo. You were so used to Shouto’s cock that the dildo was foreign as it buried within you.

“Now,” he sighs as he turns on the machine. Immediately the fuck machine blows into your tight and slippery cunt, your eyes rolling backward at the mere sensation of the speed it was at, and a loud mewl leaves your throat. His fingers snuck behind your head, unfastening the gag, and is removed with a saliva string, and a sob croaked through your voice as your mouth was finally free. “Suck my dick.”

With your head past the edge of the mattress, and the height lining you near perfectly to Shouto’s cock, he slides his cock into your sore throat. But ever so eager, Shouto wastes no time starting his conquest.

You try to keep up with the momentum of the toy and his viciously thrusting hips, your hips snapping against the toy despite its insane speed. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, and you choke against his cock. Shouto chuckles, his hands kneading your breasts, his moans tight and low, it had been a while since the last time he came.

“Look at you, so desperate,” Shouto chuckles, his fingers tweaking your hard nipples. “So fucking needy.”

The words ignite a fire within you, and your legs tremble in unspoken glee. You wanted him to fuck you until you were nothing less than a mess. You needed him to give you his cock instead of this stupid fucking machine — wait…

Your eyes widened when you realized the extent to your thoughts.

Fuck Endeavor, you thought, a shiver rolling down your spine. Your boyfriend was giving you the best dick down of your life, and you were too preoccupied with foolish worry! Shouto promised he was going to be cleaned up. You wanted Shouto, you needed him. Maybe you were whipped.

Your arms shot out, gripping the back of Shouto’s thighs as you willed him closer. Your jaw widening; you let hot breaths of air expelled from your mouth. You could feel Shouto peering down on you, but rolling your hips against the machine that was making your stomach bulge with every slam of its rod, your tongue lashed against his swollen head. Shouto’s thighs clench when your mouth sucks against the head of his cock, your tongue pressing flat against the tip.

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

Making a pleasant sound, you hollowed your cheeks out and tasted the saltiness of his pre-cum. Delighting at the harsh curse, you guided him further in.

One of his hands is soon braced on the fuck machine between your legs, but the other is tangled in your hair, pulling it and twisting it as he wishes. He’s pulling hard enough to hurt, enough so that you can choke against him, the angle and the position on your back already increasing the likeliness of that happening.

Shouto’s grip on your hair tightens, and he realizes that you’re keeping up impeccably. His dance between aggression and concupiscence is too much for you to keep up with. You don’t have time to tease his length with your tongue; he steers his cock further down your throat. You don’t bother to hide how satisfied you are by his action as you relax your throat and hollow your cheeks against the length of his snapping cock.

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

He was doing this for you, despite everything that could happen to him after this night was done. Shouto loved you enough to tarnish his dad’s room with you. The thought makes you moan, and you wiggling trying to take him deep enough now that he must be able to feel the vibrations from your throat because that makes him hiss out another curse. He’s shaking with the effort of slamming his cock down your throat and holding the machine.

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

He’s underestimating you, however; you could take him in all power and length he could muster. You know that as you begin bobbing your head despite the backwardness of your position. Digging your fingernails into his ass, you silently letting him know that you’re okay, and he understands.

Shouto grunts, bending his knees as he begins to face fuck you with no remorse. It’s savage, uncontrolled, and brutal. Your choking noises music to both your ears; he doesn’t let up, only snapping his hips faster, harder, rougher. Your eyes begin to roll backward at the force, his balls slapping you in the face with every slam of energy.

But you like — you lust — the sensation of the raw and primitive fucking he was giving you, and you felt your hips rising off the bed when your walls begin to clamp against the insanely moving dildo. Yet, when you shifted higher, his hands slammed down against your hips, keeping you down, and you cry around his cock.

“Take my fucking cock like the slut you are,” he snarls, taking giant thrusts until his cock is completely buried in your throat, your nose pressed into his balls. Your tongue still revolves around the veins in his cock while you grip his ass. You choke against him, the noise music to his ears, while your legs spasm as your orgasm is hitting you.

“Y/n,” he manages to get out through gritted teeth. “Fuck, y/n. You—” He cuts himself off with another groan as the tip of his cock hits so far down your throat you feel your neck bulge.

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

It burns, and to your horror, you find yourself unable to take the sheer force of his load and the fact that he just seemed to keep unloading within you. Uncontrollable panicked coughing and choking rattle your throat while Shouto is still balls deep in you. The second he removes his cock from your throat, you shoot up, your core throbbing, and your airway burning as cum drips out from your nose.

You continue hacking, the bitter taste of cum scorching your throat, and you continued to rub cum from your nose. It burned and hurt to breathe. Turning your head towards Shouto, who turned off the fucking machine, his eyes were locked on you already, a grin on his face while he ran a hand through his hair.

“That was hot,” Shouto rustles, running the flat of his thumb against your upper lip, smearing his cum against your skin.

“That fucking hurt!” You snap, throwing his hand off your face, a fire exploding under your skin because you were more embarrassed than anything. You enjoyed the feeling of his cum coming out of your nose, but you weren’t about to admit it!

“I don’t care,” Shouto perversely informs you, his hands taking you cheeks and twisting you towards him before his lips press against yours.

His lips are libidinous against yours, his mouth opening as he coaxed you to join him in this affair. His kiss was bruising, his teeth knocking against yours when hot and breathless puffs of air exchanged between your mouths. The heated pressure does nothing to ease the burning in your throat, only intensifying the pain while you dig your fingers into his back, leaving crescent marks and bloodied tears behind. The pain does not deter Shouto, not even a little bit. There’s an approval growl emitting from his throat and his tongue soon pressed against yours, and you resisted the sharp moan threatening to leave while his muscle danced with yours.

“Stop holding it in,” he grunts, “make everyone know that you’re being fucked.”

The next noise to escape your mouth is a loud mewl when Shouto sucks against your own tongue, his eyes ablaze while he stares down at you, victory and lust in his eyes.

“Where should I fuck you next?” He asks, his body pressing you down into the mattress, ignoring your pained hisses for your legs were still bound. His fingers dig into your breasts, pinching at the edges of your areola instead of your nipple. Your fingers dug deeper into his skin when you sob at the teasing. “How does that filthy little cunt of yours want to be ruined next?”

“In his chair!” you cry in gluttony, your body thrashing and reaming against his touch. “Fuck me in his chair, sir!”

“Look at that, maybe the slut can learn,” Shouto grins into your skin, the tracing movements salacious, and he stands. You’re weightless when Shouto scoops you from the bed, his hands supporting your tender ass. Mindlessly, your mouth nibbles against his throat, leaving purple hickies in your wake while he collects more items.

The taste of his salty sweat invades your senses, your tongue lapping, and circling against his skin while Shouto gave no attention towards your actions. He merely dumped you onto the cool leather of Endeavors desk chair, and you arched in pain.

“Now, now,” he ruthlessly grabbed the ties on your legs. He slides them off with such amoral strength your skin throbs in his wake. Your legs, finally free, slam to the ground, and you let out a fervid noise as you stare up at your boyfriend, whose stomach is taut and sheened with sweat. “I thought you liked pain.”

“You haven’t been giving me any,” you sneer, your tongue dragging against your bottom lip.

Rage fills his eyes, and he chuckles depravedly, “Okay, brat.”

Grabbing your hips, he drags you on the chair so that your ass barely remains on the cold leather. Shoving you down by your chest, the wind is knocked out of you, and you heave when he grabs onto your ankles. With a familiar tightness and the strain of having your knees under your shoulders, the spreader bar is placed behind the chairs back, keeping you trapped to the chair.

You’re folded in half, and his hand pressed onto your stomach before he began to tie your arms and thigh down. Two ties to secure your wrist into place, two ties to secure your thighs into place. The position — being placed into an ‘L’ shape — prohibited you from breathing correctly as your inflexibility flashed through your muscles.

“Oh my god,” you breathe while Shouto presses the back of the chair into the desk for additional support. Your wrists throbbed with the loss of blood circulation, and Shouto stood before you, his hand fisting himself.

“Hard to breathe?” He mocks, his cock now fully erect again.

“Make me stop breathing, pussy,” you challenge unwavering.

“God, I was hoping you’d say that,” he smirked, grabbing the top of the chair, and placing his feet by the side of the bed, he rammed himself into your cunt.

There was nothing for you to do except pathetically howl when he slammed into your cervix, your body tied so tight to the chair any other action was stopped.

“You’re so fucking tight like this,” Shouto hisses, but you could hardly tell the difference with the way he pummels his cock deep within you. Perfectly hitting the back of your wall every time.

His girth was stretching you out far more than you could seem to remember, his thrusts were urgent as they were voracious, slamming deep into you with every second, scrambling your mind with every shift. But, he didn’t gag you, and you weren’t one to give in.

“It’s because you n-never fuck me r-rIGHT!”

His left fingers slammed into your mouth, his fingers touching the back of your throat as you choked against him in your surprise. Tears watered in your eyes, and his fingers dug into your spongy muscle, making you gag even more laborious.

It already hurt to breathe, with the sensation of his cum still falling from your nose, the angle of which you were tied up, and his finger in your throat, you began to panic. Your eyes close, your throat relaxing immediately to let things be okay. But as soon as you regain your breath, you feel your core throb in how much you liked that. Tears flow down your cheeks, your eyes locked on Shouto, who’s scorching you with his sight.

“I thought you were going to tap out,” he taunts, and your tongue pushes up against his fingers, your throat humming lowly to control the insistent gag at the back of your throat. “You’re crying, and yet you’re still so defiant.”

You tilt your head up, alleviating the pressure of his fingers in your throat, and still looking like a brat.

But his cock brushes against your g-spot and your eyes nearly bug out in ecstasy for his right-hand wraps around your neck. His cock still slams into you with speed and power, the oxygen in your body being denied with his tight grip around your neck, his fingers beginning to thrust within your mouth emulating a cock, and the chair starts to squeak with every movement.

Your ass pathetically rises off the chair, a desperate attempt to move in time with his drilling cock. Both of you delirious under your overstimulation and refusal to stop until there was evidence for years that the two of you fucked in Endeavors’ room. His grip around your neck soon became bruising, where his fingertips were burned you, but you cared not. His cock was stretching you out in shameless thrill, the angle only increasing the pleasure buzzing through you. Your eyes cross over in your elation, and you splutter when his fingers leave your throat, moving to press cold and wet figure-eights onto your clit.

“Fucking take my cock,” he growls.

Your head nods, the heated pressure in your belly scorching. Your walls clamp down against his hammering cock, but it doesn’t slow him down, only encouraging him to increase his speed and strength until the chair creaked against your weight. The sopping noises of your meeting sex filled your ears, and you moaned loudly, your teeth biting down onto your lip.

It takes his cock brushing against your g-spot for your legs to slam forward, your arms nearly succeeding in destroying endeavors ties as you try sitting up as your orgasm slams through you.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” You scream hoarsely. Your scream only increases in great thrill when you feel the chair snap under the force of his fuck. But Shouto ignores it, his hips continuing to drill into you, his hand clamping tighter against your neck, cutting off your voice. Shouto isn’t done yet, after all.

His hands move to grip the exposed back of your thighs, his grip bruising your supple skin. He slams into you faster, his cock continuing unaffected by your convulsing walls. There are no other noises except your wet cunt meeting his cock, your shrieks of approval, and Shouto’s heavy breathing as he continues to drive into you. His body is giving you unreplicable sensations, and your body only making Shouto stammer and curse loudly.

His lips find yours, and there is nothing to say, the kiss is messy, more teeth than anything. Saliva passed between the two of you without care, as he chases his orgasm. His brutal pace continues, your name growled from your throat, until one last thrust and one final clamp from your cunt sends him over.

He pulls out as soon as he cums, his seed slipping down from your slit, tickling your tight ass and dripping onto the chair and the floor.

Your eyes are barely opened; you try to peer at Shouto, who is pressing his right hand to his forehead.

“You cheat,” you rasp, knowing that he had successfully cooled his body down.

He smiles at you wickedly, choosing to ignore you before walking back.

“Look at that,” Shouto whispers, bending down so that his face is level with your cunt and ass. “Can’t have anything not falling onto Endeavors things getting out of you…”

His finger pushes his cum back into your sore cunt, and you sharply breath when he pats your cunt.

“You want me to have your babies,” you tease, and he remains silent, dragging his fingers down the center of your pussy. His breathing teases your sensitive flesh, and you feel yourself clench when he pulls his fingers lower than where he usually goes. Soon, his fingers trace around your puckered asshole.

“S-Sir,” you pant, your chest rising as far up as you could in this position, and your eyes widened when he looked up at you.

“Have you ever wanted to try anal?”

Your mouth drops when the pad of his finger teases your other entrance, and your thighs shook while you remained silent.

His opposite hand struck your ass sharply, your body thrashing as it stung against your unprepared skin.

“Answer me.”

“Y-Yes!”

“Yes, what?!”

“I want your cock in my ass!”

Your boyfriend’s quirk did not involve speed; in fact, without his quirk, he was not that fast. Sure he was athletic and adequately trained, but in comparison to those on the Hero field, if you took away quirk usage, he was barely above average. But there were times that you believed he was incredibly fast, and this was one of those moments.

You found your face, chest, and knees buried back into the mattress, your back arched so much you swore you would need a spine replacement after this, and the ties and spreader bar were gone.

His fingers slide between your folds, lathering in your essence. A low groan left your lips at the feeling, and you quivered when Shouto’s hands spread your ass cheeks.

“B-Be gentle,” you whimper when he presses the pad of his forefinger against your pert hole. Your ass tightened instinctively, and Shouto huffed but pressed his finger in. A weird full pain shot through you when the tip of his finger entered your rectum, your ass squeezing against his finger, trying to deny him entrance.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, his other hand massaging your ass cheek, trying to calm your instincts to let him in.

Your fingers dig into the comforter, the still wet fabric from your multiple orgasms was cold under your heated fingers. But something cold splashed against your ass, and you shook, demanding to know what it was.

“Lube,” he answers, a smirk evident in his tone as his fingers leave your asshole. A soft groan exhales from your breath at him exiting your ass, and soon enough, his finger returns to your puckered tight hole. The feeling of his fingers pushing in you to his first knuckles sends your ass flying backward toward him, a desperate and idiotic way of getting him further in.

It was a weird feeling, almost reminiscent to the first time you had sex, only completely different. It made your head spin in a frenzied way and felt backward but in a way where you needed more.

“You like this,” he laughs, his lips pressing against your spine. Your head nods, you’re unable to speak as his fingers push into you and pull back out. It’s a slow and chilling movement that fills your asshole and makes you dizzy.

“Shit,” you breathe, your body rattling, your ass rolling against his fingers.

“Are you ready for my cock, whore?” He asks, and you whine in response. His hand grips your ass, and his finger curls within you. You loudly call out his name, feeling your body turning weak as you lay there, a slave to his manipulation. His manipulation of your ass sends warm liquid falling down your thighs, shining against your skin as his hand smacks your inner thigh, and he relishes in your high pitched squeal. “You finally cave to anal when I’m fucking you here. Is this what you wanted all along?”

Your eyes clamp shut as his fingers exit your ass, and you only manage a panting groan in response. There’s a soft ripping noise before a package hits your face.

Your eyes open to see a condom package sitting by your face, its empty, and you shift your head to stare at Shouto who’s unraveling the condom on his cock.

“You haven’t used those in a while,” you remark snidely, your eyes glowing with amusement as he locks onto you, his eyes rolling.

“I remember a certain someone begging for me to put it in her raw,” he smoothly states, lube in his hands now, and he applies a lot on the smooth condom. “Besides, you want my cock up your ass, you don’t get to play that card right now.”

“Yeah, well — oHMY GOD!”

Shouto, without warning, presses the head of his cock within your asshole. It stretches you out disgustingly, sharp pain throbbing in your ass and cunt as he settles within you. Despite his cock halfway buried within your ass, it’s your pussy that weeps. Your slick runs rampant down your inner thigh, falling onto the bed top. Shouto’s fingers dig into your waist, the both of you breathing heavy at this new feeling.

Slowly, his fingers move to your breast and your nipples, and with the smallest nod from you, he begins.

In and out, he moves, his hips moving faster than a manageable speed, and your eyes welled with tears at the constipated feeling in your asshole. His fingers tweak and pull at your clit and nipple, savagely teasing them, uncaring that your cries left drooling puddles on the bed. His thrusting movements became quicker, harder, and more solid until a familiar sensation of his balls slapping your skin burned your mind.

“More,” you beg against the sheets, drool coating your cheek, your body nothing more than his fuck toy. “Fuck my asshole harder.”

Shouto merely growls, the pinch on your clit, making your hips buck against his cock, and he began to barbarically slam into you. It was as if it was your pussy and not your ass he was drilling into.

Your body shifts with his every movement, your slick pouring from your cunt, and he let go of your nipple. In your crazed state, you sob at the loss of contact, but his hand strikes against your soaked cunt with a loud sound. The force alone nearly sends your eyes flying open, your vision blurring when his finger dive into your sex.

His fingers work at double the speed of which his hips slam into you. His fingers pushing the limits of your velvet walls; he curls his fingers against your walls, dragging them deliciously against your clenching heat. Then there was his cock, and at times the thin walls that separated his fingers and his cock brushed together, sending you into a new frenzy while you sobbed his name.

Begging for more, begging to come.

“You already need to come?!” He snaps, his hips not at all weak, and you moaned loudly, knowing that he was nowhere close. “Then come you, filthy bitch, I just started, and you need to come!”

“I-It feels so fucking good,” you garble, your jaw unable to move for its slack against the mattress, electrifying pleasure singing your nerves, and with a loud smack to your pussy, you come hard against his fingers, splashing against the bed top.

There’s no time wasted; Shouto pulls himself from your ass and shoves you onto your back again. There’s no fightback, no attitude, from you. Without being forced to, your legs are brought to your chest while Shouto discards the condom onto the bed.

“Aren’t you so fucking enthusiastic, getting all ready for me without asking,” Shouto grins, his hands grabbing your legs right below your ankle. “Do you know what I’m going to do to you right now?”

“Y-You’re going to fill me up with your cum,” you stammer for he pushes your legs slowly towards you, the stretch in your muscles overwhelming for your sore body. “You’re going to give me your babies.”

“What else?” He taunts, the top of his cock rubbing against your clit.

“B-Breed me like the bitch I am, sir!” Your cry, wanting nothing more than his cock to bury all nine inches in you.

“Come for me one more time, and I’ll make sure to fill you until you’re dripping with my semen for an entire week,” Shouto promises, and his hips slam within you.

Your knees are buried within the mattress by your head, your feet curling and pressing against each other. Shouto lays on top of you, the penetration deep, and his hands gripping yours. The weight of having him on you is exhilarating, and for the first time this night, his lips press hungrily against yours while ball deep within you.

His cock slams against the wall of your cervix repetitively while his lips overwhelm you. Each slam into you is massive and powerful. Powerful enough to have you sobbing into his mouth while he kisses you, his hands clutching your smaller ones in his.

Again and again, he slams into you. His thrusts knocking the wind out of you until you release his hands and find yourself digging your fingers into his back, crying out his name desperately while his teeth find a home on your neck, sinking into flesh he had long ago broke. The powerful pounding of his cock makes you keen, your hips jerking up to meet his, but you’re useless against his downward thrusts.

“Impregnate me, sir,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, “breed me, please!”

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

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

“You like this, whore?” Shouto nips at your throat, his thrusts making you shriek out his name as he buries you further into the bed, your nails digging into his flesh. “You like the way my cock fills your pussy the same way it did that pretty little ass?” You nod rapidly, your eyes closed, your mouth open, your pants tumbling from your mouth. Your sanity was lying on a string, his actions the reasons for your downfall.

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

The muscles on his back seemed to flare dramatically, your screams turning silent due to your approval of this.

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

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

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

You squirt wildly, your juices going everywhere, wetting his groin area, and splashing against the bed.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he growls, and once again slams into you.

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

The bed creaks loudly under you, headboard crashing into the wall, over and over again.

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

That’s all it takes, and a hot and heavy load shoots through you, and Shouto collapses onto you at the same time the bed falls. Neither one of you reacts as gravity shifts you both slightly downwards, but your mind is too full of Shouto to care. His body twitching while his cock remains hard within you, the feeling of his cum swimming in your cunt, making your head spin with euphoria.

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

He pulls out of you gently, and the feeling of his cock no longer in you makes you whimper, your nose burying into his neck as he flips the two of you over so that you’re laying on his chest. His hands send warm and cooling waves through your body, helping soothe the aches in your tired body.

Who knew Endeavor was the key to making Shouto lose control. Maybe you needed to get him to fuck you on this bed more often now.

You can feel the cum seeping from your cunt, and Shouto must have too, for he scooped it back in with his fingers, and you chuckled at the feeling of his warm fingers against your seizing cunt. This was nice, you loved this.

“I didn’t go too overboard, did I?” He asks, his voice small given that he saw the blood that trailed down your neck and the raised handprints on your ass.

“No,” you say, your hands running down his muscled sides. “Not at all, I really enjoyed this, sir.”

Your words are teasing, and the two of you chuckle as silence overtakes the two of you.

“I love you, y/n,” he whispers, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“I love you, too, Shouto,” you mumble, your eyes fluttering closed, sleep consuming you.

You don’t remember anything else, only that you woke up the next morning in your bed, your body is strewn with purple bruises, red hickies, and handprints on your body, wearing nothing but Shouto’s shirt and your panties.

“Good morning beautiful,” his voice greets you, and you sigh, soreness rampaging your body.

“Good morning, my love.”

Bonus!

Endeavor walked into his house at three in the morning, the strains of a late night at work had truly exhausted him.

Shouto, who he had asked to take care of his house for only two hours had stayed much later. His son had informed him that he left ten minutes before he arrived. It was too bad, Endeavor thought, he wasn’t able to get back on time to see his son and girlfriend. Tossing his case to the floor, Endeavor was ready for bed.

Trudging through his house, he was quick to realize how humid the house was when he neared his room. His eyebrows scrunched, his attention on alert as he threw open the door, the lights and fan turned on by mistake.

CRASH!

Endeavors’ eyes widened at the sight of the cum-stained bed, the ruined sheets, the slanted chair, and his bed being held together by ice. His eyes locked on the fan blade that fell from its place; it was cracked entirely in the middle. There was no denying that his room was wholly and disgustingly used, and for what?! His stupid kid didn’t ever need to stay!

“SHOUTOOOOOO!”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shouto #bnha x reader #bnha todoroki #mha x reader #todoroki smut

15K notes · View notes

shirophantomvox · 3 years

Text

Analyzing Illumi Zoldyck's Character

Chrollo Analysis | Hisoka Analysis | Killua Analysis

What’s up y’all! Sorry for being away for the last few days. I needed a break from social media because I am so tired of seeing toxic, self-righteous people on my TL. Anyway, quite a lot of you liked my posts about analyzing HxH characters and somehow comparing them to VLD characters. Today, I’ll be talking about Illumi Zoldyck and I’ll try to compare him to a Voltron character. I know many people have already analyzed this character before, but it wouldn’t hurt to add to the discussion some years later. If you want me to write about anything else, send me an ask! The formatting of this post may be different than the one I wrote about Hisoka Morrow (click his name to view that post).

HERE WE GO!

In the first season, all of the characters are contestants for the Hunter’s Exam. I say contestants because this is a contest to see who can win without any injuries and can keep up with each host. I forget what number stage they were at, but I do know they were at the stage where each opponent has to fight each other. They are declared the winner if their opponent forfeits or gives up mid-match. (Off-topic, but) I am going, to be honest; Gon was my favorite character but his flaws began to show, annoyed me, and later led to his horrific downfall (based from YouTube clips). He didn’t know when to stop and kept pushing himself over the limit. Anyway, Killua and Gittarackur are set to fight. This is when things take a turn for the worse.

Gittarackur is a form of a disguise for Illumi to mask his identity. His face is long; nearly (and reminds me of) in the shape of a Tiki. His face also reminds me of the Witch Doctor mask from Scooby-Doo and Hell-raiser. He has several pins stuck in his face to maintain the facial features of Gittarackur. On the flip side, if he removes the pins, his biological form is revealed. Once he does this, Killua is nearly paralyzed; he cannot believe his eyes and I’m sure the trauma he endured at home hit him like a sack of rocks. Illumi then tells Killua that he wants him to return home, that he cannot maintain a friendship with Gon, stated that he was going to kill Gon, but realizes that if he does so he will be disqualified and will not obtain his Hunter’s license.

I’m assuming the cops aren’t a thing in this reality and the only way for them to “destroy” under the law is by obtaining the license. What do you think? I rarely see police officers; all I see are the Mafia and every they suck compared to the Zoldyck's and the Phantom Troupe. Shit, it seems like they’re the police but have twisted motives.

It doesn’t matter if you’re a fictional character or not, first impressions matter and he bombed this one...even for a villain.

But you did this for what?

How can you hypnotize (by using Nen) your own brother into killing another opponent because he doesn’t want to become an emotionless zombie like you? At least, that’s my perception. Telling your brother to run every time he faces an opponent that he knows he cannot win against is the sickest shit I’ve ever seen. I know I’m jumping around but another thought popped into my head. As the seasons go on, Illumi expresses an odd way of loving his younger brother and to him, that means to make him suffer in the same way he had to. It seems like Illumi is jealous of Gon in a way. (I’ve seen clips on YouTube) Killua takes Alluka to the hospital to heal Gon. Illumi has stated several times to Hisoka that Killua was hiding rules from him and that he still wanted to get rid of Alluka. Although it is clearly stated why he wanted Alluka gone, I still think that Illumi was jealous of Gon simply because his younger brother preferred to be with a friend instead of him. This is why he emphasizes “You cannot have friends. Either they will betray you or you’ll betray them.”

As I read and watched as the seasons went on, I noticed something about Illumi and his family. We all know that the children were raised by their parents. Specifically, their dad is a trained assassin. I can’t remember but I think Zeno is their grandfather who is also an assassin.

I view him as a character that has suffered from abuse and trauma in order to mold him into an assassin. He is emotionless, doesn’t really care for others, has an odd relationship with Killua that he doesn’t have for his other siblings, and is a hypocrite. Killua can’t be friends with Gon but every time the show cuts to him, he’s with Hisoka? Something is fishy there. Are they more than friends? OK, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. Here's the physical analysis below.

Face

When masquerading as Gittarackur, his face has several pins in them and his hair is in a rock star form of Mohawk that is purple. I’ll give him 10/10 for uniqueness, yet it still reminded me of Hell Raiser.

I’ve noticed that when he is in public he is in costume. Why doesn’t he reveal himself in public? I’ve researched this and no one could answer this question. My guess is that he is a verified hunter and assassin. How can you carry out your missions if everyone knows what you look like? Without the pins in his face, it reverts back to his natural state. To me, his large eyes and long, shiny black hair are his distinguished features. Although he may be my least favorite character, he does have pretty eyes. Haven’t you all heard of “I got lost in his/her eyes”?

Yeah, that can be said about him. Most definitely. He rarely smiles and when he does, something BAD is going to happen. I saw him laugh crazily once Alluka began the healing process, the Nen (I guess) rose from the hospital and got on him. This scene reminds me of how Haggar reacted once the Komar’s quintessence bounced from Voltron and bounced onto her. Wow, these supernatural abilities make y’all feel that good?

Clothes

Gittarackur and Illumi wear the same clothes, which should be a clear giveaway that they are the same. Illumi wears a neural green short jacket that has yellow pins in them, a light green shirt underneath, and green pants. His shoes remind me of loafers with a heel on them, something my grandmother would wear.

I’ve said this before and I’ll say again, these bad-ass men in this show are very stylish and seem to be in shape more than I am. Although Illumi irks me, his fashion is great and this is why people prefer him to be their favorite character. Shows should always produce characters that are memorable; that is the key to a long-lasting fan base.

In conclusion, this anime (for the most part) has well-rounded characters that make the plot interesting and wanting more.

Illumi and Lotor are somewhat similar. They both grew up in abusive households and lost some sense of sensitivity, common sense, and were often “misguided” by their own selfishness. Illumi wants a better life for Killua by constantly brainwashing him into thinking that he cannot have friends and his can only find happiness through killing. Zarkon raises Lotor to be a prince that shouldn't work with planets and should destroy them. This explains why he used deceased Alteans from the colony, drained their quintessence, and didn't give them a proper burial. Lotor IS just like his father but Killua IS NOT like Illumi. Ironic, huh? As we all know by now, Lotor is the son of Honerva (Haggar) and Zarkon. After the rift accident, he became an emotionless, ruthless monster that colonized and destroyed planets just to gain their quintessence. He taught this to his son and once he was old enough to think for himself, he refused to act in such a way. Although he was exiled and said he wasn’t like Zarkon, he was; but worse. Lotor studied and gained knowledge about Altea and its people while using Allura to gain the secrets of Oriande. I say he used her because he knew from the moment he met her that he was harvesting Altean quintessence. While fighting the white lion, he yelled “Victory or Death” which is a common catchphrase the Galra use when they are in battle. In fact, the Galra have been victims of trauma from Zarkon. Zarkon’s ruthless ways of ruling had no other motive except for obtaining quintessence so he could live forever. Silva’s way of raising his children was done to mold them into assassins. Since he was taught this way he did the same thing to his children. Zarkon, Silva, and Zeno think that their ways of parenting are necessary for survive in life when it doesn’t have to be that way. Illumi and Lotor have experienced this horrific parenting and deal with it in different ways. Illumi is oddly obsessive of his younger brother and Lotor is a fucking liar.

This analysis was fun! Next, I’ll be analyzing Killua and Keith Kogane.

If you’d like to see more posts like this, send me an ASK!

186 notes · View notes

h2bakugou · 3 years

Note

Hey there...I love so much your fanfics so...I wanted to make a request about Bakugou x Kind! Reader. Her quirk is fire but she creates flower-shaped flames. Bakugou already has a crush on her 'cause she's so gorgerous, kind and positive with everyone. But with him had other feelings more than friends, whe he gets mad she always says to him: "Now now, don't you worry so. I hate to see that smile of yours disappear".

The part where she fails the hero license exam and retake the exam with Bakugou an Todoroki. Kids act so nice with her when she shows them her quirk amazing them, but Bakugou gets mad but she says: "How can you be so cross with the kids here. Look how adorable they are!" When they work together with Todoroki, Camie and Yoarashi, that's the part where Bakugou see how she can hava a golden heart with everyone even if moments are so cruel and confesses his feelings to her ending with a kiss

a/n: hi hun! thank you so much!! this request gave me a lot to work with, so i hope you enjoy it!! this week has been so crazy and stressful, my house almost caught on fire but everyone’s okay and we didn’t have any damage at all, we were very lucky but it was definitely scary lol

summary: bakugou’s crushing on you hard, and it’s worse when he realizes how kind you are, he can’t seem to wrap his head around you, everything about you is perfect, and when the moment is right, he tells you exactly how he feels.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / flower flames - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff

wordcount: 1.4k

»»————-　★　————-««

Flower-shaped flames look about as gorgeous and dangerous as they sound. The sight of rose or daises with the heat of an erupting volcano, it’s so beautiful to look at, but just as dangerous to get near.

From the moment Bakugou laid eyes on you, he’d always felt a little different. He’d still get angry or have his superiority complex, but his heart would beat a little faster than it usually did. The tips of his ears would be stained pink from the constant blush he usually held on his face when he spoke to you.

And the non-stop teasing from Kaminari and Mina about having a crush on you didn’t help. No matter how many times he tried to deny them, the thought of dating you still crept into his head when he laid in his bed, trying to fall asleep.

It was more of a challenge when he saw how sweet and kind you were to everyone, including him. It was a shock. Not really all that wild considering he has ‘friends’ but the notion of someone like you, who could probably never hurt a fly if you tried, despite having all the courage to beat up bad guy, being just as kind to Bakugou like he hadn’t called you an idiot for forgetting your pen in class.

It was the simple things you did for Bakugou that made his heart ached and his face warm. Like when you let him borrow your notes when he had to miss school for getting caught fighting with Midoriya.

Or the words you would always say to him when he got mad. The same words he’d heard so many times, the same words that made his heart skip a beat.

“Piss off!” Bakugou yelled toward Kaminari, stomping away from the electric prankster who had just silly-stringed the explosive blonde.

“Now, now, don’t you worry so. I’d hate to see that smile of yours disappear.” You nudge him and smile, walking beside him as he stares at you. It wasn’t the first time you’d said it to him, but it felt like the first time every time you said it.

It was one of the lines that felt almost too cinematic to be true, but nonetheless, he’d grumble something along the lines of ‘yeah okay shitty woman’ and walk away with a smirk.

What was a surprising kind of shock was when you didn’t pass the Hero License Exam. The three of you were the only students from 1-A that didn’t make it.

However, when the time for remedial lessons came, you were up early in the morning, ready to go. You beat Bakugou to the bus a few times, and despite you and Present Mic having loud conversations the entire trip both back and forth the few days you went, Bakugou still couldn’t find it in himself to lose feelings for you.

The more he looked at you, the more beautiful you seemed to get. He could gaze at you for hours, you were just so ethereal it was unreal. He felt chills when you would glance back at him and smile, and a pang of jealously when you would do the same for Todoroki, though you were just being nice.

However, the day you arrived and Gang Orca was leading the day’s session, there were some new things in store.

You stood with Bakugou and Todoroki, alongside Camie and Inasa. When the children were let into the building, you’re expression changed.

You thought you were going to have to do some intensive training exercise over some intense obstacle course. But you’re intense fighting face changed to something light and giggly.

You’d always worked pretty well with kids, and just being kind to them came naturally. Whether or not you liked them was a little more blurry, but nonetheless, they were little humans and they deserved the same kindness as anyone else did.

Bakugou and the others were pretty shocked, but you were one of the first ones to leave the line you’d been standing in to go mingle with the kids. You learned a few of their names and examined their quirks, watching in awe as the next generation of possible heroes stood before you.

They ran around, full of energy, and reminded you of your own youth.

“She’s sort of a natural with kids.” Camie commented, smiling as she watched you talk and laugh with a group of girls.

“She’s just naturally kind.” Todoroki said plainly. He wasn’t wrong, but the comment was almost unintentionally an insult in Bakugou’s eyes.

Bakugou’s eyes twitched as he examined the sight. Kids. Children. How the hell was this supposed to help him get his hero license? What purpose did this even serve?

Bakugou was getting targeted for looking so bold, his hero costume having a few flashy colors and some rather dangerous components, he was trying his best not to hurt anyone, taking off his gauntlets.

One kid was persistent in getting on his nerves.

“Shut it you little-”

“Bakugou!” You yelled, earning his attention. His head snapped up instantly as he held the kid off the ground by the collar of his shirt.

“Put him down.” You sighed, walking over to the two. Bakugou’s set him down and huffed, watching as the kid stuck his tongue out and ran off to go attempt to torment the other students taking their remedial lessons.

“He was asking for it! The little punk.” Bakugou mumbled, eyeing the children as they ran around rambunctiously.

“Watch and learn big boy.” You pat his shoulder as you turn around and approach a group of the kids. Bakugou eyes you closely, trying to figure out what they were doing.

With a few words of caution, you began to show off your quirk, allowing the children to watch as you created flower-shaped flames.

The children watched in amazement as did Bakugou. They were so impressed and excited over your quirk. Bakugou didn’t see how they were acting so calm, yet it gave him a few ideas.

He was still pretty mad. When you were done presenting your quirk, the kids were happy, and ready to see more. You returned to Bakugou and nudged his side.

“How can you be so cross with the kids here? Look how adorable they are!” You smiled, gazing at the crowd before you.

“I’m not mad-”

“Your hair tends to be a bit spikier when you’re angry.” You comment, ruffling his blonde locks between your fingers as he tenses under your soft touch.

“It does not!” Bakugou protests. You smile and shake your head.

Eventually, it all comes to an end and you all inspire the kids. Showing off and using your quirks to help them use theirs, you create something beautiful when the time is up.

Ready to leave, Bakugou knows he’s got to tell you what’s been on his mind. Everyone is standing around waiting for the next bus to head back to the campus. Bakugou pulls you aside before you manage to walk out.

“Listen dumbass.” Bakugou begins. You tilt your head to the side, ready to listen like you always do.

“You really make me feel weird.” Bakugou grumbles.

“But it’s a good kind of weird. Like I like you or something. And I want to be your boyfriend.” Bakugou shoves his hands in his pockets, his fingers gripping his thumbs from his nerves.

For being a guy who’s got a pretty big ego, he was practically falling apart at the seams confessing his feelings for you. You can’t help but smile at his confession.

“Well, I’d like to be your girlfriend.” You lightly punch his shoulder, watching as his cheeks turn a shade of crimson. In a flash, he crashes his lips on yours.

It’s quick but sweet. He acted out of impulse, and when he pulled away he was embarrassed.

“Sor-” Going to apologize he was cut off by another kiss, this time initiated by you pulling his tie, pulling him into you.

Your lips moved against his sweetly as you kissed him, reassuring him that it was okay.

When you pulled away, you couldn’t help but smile and feel some heat rise to your cheeks.

“You’re sitting next to me on the bus.” Bakugou huffed, sliding a hand in yours.

“Alright. But don’t yell at me if I fall asleep. I’m exhausted.” You yawn, your fingers intertwined with Bakugou’s.

The bus ride back to school felt much longer, probably because you were so tired, but dozing off on Bakugou’s shoulder certainly helped. And you couldn’t wait to see what the future held for the two of you.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

220 notes · View notes

thrillridesz · 3 years

Text

black magic ▫ sangyeon

➳ pairing: best friend!sangyeon x fem!reader ➳ genre: fluff, magic!au ➳ warnings/rating: PG ➳ word count: 2.7k ➳ requested?: no

a/n: this is written as a birthday special for tbz’s best leader sangyeon! happy sangyeon day everyone ^^ this story is also inspired by little mix’s ‘black magic’. This is unedited as of now and I finished this real quick so I’m sorry if it isn’t up to standard!

“Thanks for the surprise, I really appreciated it.”

The night was young as the luminous moon hung high in the dark sky, casting a soft, white glow on the earth below. A cool, night breeze whipped gently against your cheeks while you strolled the quiet streets with Sangyeon, a tranquil silence in the air safe for the soft scraping sounds of the fallen autumn leaves against the gravel ground as it got caught in the wind. Wrapped up tightly in your coat, you felt a sense of warmth spread across your chest, a warmth more cosy than anything else.

“It’s no problem! It’s your birthday, it had to be perfect.” You replied, shooting him a bright smile as you stuffed your hands into your coat pockets.

Sangyeon grinned, his eyes crinkling into crescents.

“It was, don’t worry. Not gonna lie though, I didn’t think it was Eric in that bear costume even for a second. You guys really scared me right there.”

Your laugh rang through the night as his smile grew wider.

“Well, it was a pretty impromptu idea! It was literally on sale for like 10 bucks, we just had to get it,” you threw your hands up in defense as Sangyeon chuckled softly, his breath coming out in white puffs from the cold.

“Always on the hunt for good deals, y/n. Always.”

“Of course! Though since you’re my best friend, I’m usually willing to pay just a little bit more.” You replied thoughtfully, tapping your chin as if deep in thought.

The two of you have been friends ever since you could walk. For the longest time, it was just the two of you against the rest of the world. When you got bullied by the other kids in the courtyard in second grade, it had been Sangyeon who stuck by you and defended you from them even if it meant he was to take some of the punches in your place. Likewise when Sangyeon had been dangerously close to repeating a year in eleventh grade, you had persisted in staying by his side to make sure he studied and understood everything the teachers’ had to teach. All through middle school and high school, the both of you have been thick as thieves. Whatever you did, he did as well and whatever he did, you did too. Things like spending Halloween and coordinating outfits, going to school and studying for exams… The two of you were each others’ constants and if anyone was to ever look up the term ‘best friends’ in the dictionary, they would no doubt find both your names in there.

What sort of ‘best friend’ would you be not to at least fork out a few extra dollars for the sake of an amazing birthday for the one and only Lee Sangyeon?

You didn’t notice the slight frown that crossed Sangyeon’s face which he quickly replaced with a soft smile but the look in his eyes were hardened and detached.

“Right.”

“Wait, what’s that?”

You stopped dead in your track, squinting as you pointed into a distance. Before Sangyeon could reply, you grabbed onto his hand, pulling him behind you while you made your way over. The colour in his cheeks darkened as he scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly, peering at you shyly. You were too engrossed in staring at the display in front of you to notice him, your nose practically touching the glass panel.

“Black Occult?” You mumbled under your breath, your eyebrows furrowing together.

“What’s going on?”

You turned to Sangyeon, a look of confusion etched in your face.

“You don’t find this weird?”

“What about it?”

“This was never here.”

At that, Sangyeon narrowed his eyes as he surveyed the store’s exterior. Wrinkling his nose, you saw the belated realisation dawn upon him.

“Oh, right. Didn’t this used to be an arcade?”

You rolled your eyes.

“You’re so dense sometimes, it’s unbelievable.”

“Can I help you guys?”

The two of you whipped around to see a certain pink haired boy standing with his arms akimbo at the entrance, staring at the both of you. His eyes were blue, almost unnaturally so, and he was clad in just about the most colourful suit you’ve ever seen anyone don on. It felt like an assault to your sights, with all the neon colours yet somehow there was such a mysterious aura to him. In a way, it felt like there was an almost mystical vibe that you got from him that made you inclined to think that he wasn’t in any way human.

“W-We… Oh, we’re sorry. We didn’t know you were open.” Sangyeon replied and you could hear a slight tremble in his voice. He definitely felt the same.

“Are you guys looking to purchase anything?” The scowl on the boy’s face disappeared as his eyes widened.

“Um…”

“Excellent! Please, come on in. I was wondering why you guys were standing outside acting all weird but I didn’t realise you guys wanted to come in. It’s this goddamn black glass, isn’t it? I’ve told Haknyeon so many times we should change it. Makes it so hard to look in, I swear.” He rambled on, holding the door open with a wide grin on his face.

“Come on in! Feel free to look around. If you need anything, I’ll be here. Just call my name, Chanhee.”

You and Sangyeon exchanged a look as if hesitating to enter but one look at Chanhee’s enthusiastic expression prompted you to see foot into the store. Seeing that you were going in, Sangyeon shrugged as he followed suit.

The moment you entered the store, the overwhelming scent of lilies and peaches hit you with a pang while the dim lighting made it difficult to navigate even within the store. Yet once your eyes adjusted to the dimness in the room, you couldn’t help but marvel at the oddities that surrounded you.

On the wooden shelves attached to the wall, were rows and rows of oddly coloured liquid, too bright or too unnaturally coloured to have come from a source of nature. Several sprigs of unknown herbs hung on the walls, tied into bundles by string while on another side, candles of all shapes, sizes and scents lined the table. Well-polished crystals were arranged meticulously on an old mahogany coffee table near the counter and a particularly interesting looking bird flitted around in a wrought Victorian-style iron birdcage. It was small with a white beak and purple and yellow feathers with its wings flapping so fast, you could barely see it moving. You have never seen a bird like that before and although you started towards it, something else caught your eye entirely.

Picking up a small bottle, you inspected the glowing golden liquid in it, Tilting it in your hand, the viscosity of the mixture and the velvety look it had was almost mesmerising to stare at. As you turned it over, you leaned in to read the faded label on it.

“Love potion.” You said aloud, causing Sangyeon who had been looking at a bunch of tarot cards to look up at you.

“Ah, yes! One of our bestsellers that is!” Chanhee exclaimed, his eyes shining with joy and excitement. “Guaranteed to work! It’s only 15 dollars.”

“Why would you need anything like that?” Sangyeon scoffed, folding his arms across his chest as his biceps bulged ever so slightly.

“You never know… I just thought it looked pretty.”

Somehow, you couldn’t stop staring at it. It was as if it was whispering your name to ‘just buy it’. Then again, it could really just be the impulsive shopper in you but there was something so alluring and magnetic about it that you just felt like you had to have it in your possession. It was like letting a child go lose in a candy shop and finally seeing that one lollipop with the most beautiful swirls and crazy colours that just screamed flavour. You didn’t exactly care even if it wasn’t an actual potion, it just looked so aesthetic that you had to buy it.

“I’ll have it!”

Sangyeon looked at you as if you had just sprouted horns on your head as you handed over a dollar bill over to Chanhee who accepted it readily.

“Surely, you don’t actually believe that it’s a love potion.” He blurted out much to the disgruntlement of Chanhee who shot a deathly glare at him.

“It is! It’s been tried and tested. It works, okay?” He said with an air of haughtiness which Sangyeon grumbled at and instantly, Chanhee knew. He should have known earlier in all honesty, from the way he had seen the man stare at you. A slow smile began to spread across his face.

Interesting.

As Chanhee watched the two of you leave the store with Sangyeon still rambling on about how you ‘just wasted 15 bucks for nothing’, he leaned into his chair contentedly. With a snap of his fingers, a cosy glass of grape wine materialised in his hands and with a sip, he sighed.

“Darling didn’t even need a love potion.”

“I can’t believe you actually bought it.” Sangyeon said, his voice still carrying a tone of disbelief.

“Look at it though, isn’t it pretty? I mean even if it isn’t actually a love potion, it’s nice to look at.” You said, still looking at the glowing liquid in the tiny bottle. Slotting in the key and entering the shared apartment the two of you shared with Younghoon, a childhood friend to the both of you and Hyunjae, a mutual friend from university. Since Younghoon was away in Spain with his girlfriend, Bea, it was really only Hyunjae in the house who you found clad in a dinosaur onesie as he lounged in front of the television with a big bowl of buttered popcorn in his lap.

“Oh, you guys are back. I was wondering where you guys went after the party.”

“We were… A little caught up.” Sangyeon said slowly, casting you a knowing glance which you avoided.

“Figures. You guys left earlier than I did.”

“Because you were busy fraternising with anyone you can possibly bring home, which I can see you’ve failed.” You joked and Hyunjae tossed a pillow at you, with a scowl on his face.

“Ugh, get out of my way.”

You laughed out loud as you set the bottle on the kitchen tabletop, causing him to turn to look. When he did, his eyes widened almost comically large as he leapt to his feet.

“What’s that?” He shuffled over quickly with a look of awe.

“Some stupid love potion thing,” Sangyeon replied curtly before you could even open your mouth to say anything. You turned to him with a frown at which he merely shrugged off carelessly as he preoccupied himself in rummaging through the refrigerator for a late night snack.

Taking the bottle from you, Hyunjae held it up against the light, his dark eyes shining with overflowing curiosity and doubt. The light reflected off the smooth,clear glass, making the gold liquid inside it look even more luminous and even wispy with the liquid swirling almost in slow motion no matter how you look at it. You have never seen anything like it and judging from Hyunjae’s expression, neither has he.

“Looks interesting.” He declared after a moment of inspection as Sangyeon turned to him in disbelief.

“Not you too. That guy definitely ripped y/n off. Seriously, y/n.” He tsked, sauntering over and snatching the bottle from Hyunjae.

“Doesn��t seem like anything special. A love potion? In this day and age? I don’t buy it for a second.” There was disdain in his eyes as he pursed his lips in disgust. Popping open the bottle, a sweet scent of tangerines and pineapples rapidly permeated the small apartment and maybe it was just you but you thought you felt your heart flutter just a little. A smile made its way onto your lips quite unconsciously and a tiny jolt of electricity shook you in the most delightful way possible.

Could it be…?

You lifted your gaze to see Sangyeon stare at the bottle in his hand with a startled look on his face, his mouth slightly ajar and you knew that he had felt the exact same thing. Though that look of surprise disappeared just as quickly as it came and his expression hardened.

“That’s a lot of artificial flavouring for one bottle.” He clenched his jaw as his grip on the glass bottle tightened and you could see the veins protruding ever so slightly from his forearm.

You narrowed your eyes.

“If you’re just going to whine, then give it back to me. Just don’t look at it.”

As you leaned forward, Sangyeon took a step back.

“Why? Are you going to try giving that to someone?”

Raising an eyebrow, you regarded him with suspicion.

“Sure, why not? There’s a really cute guy in my statistics class, even if it doesn’t work - which I’m pretty sure it doesn’t so don’t worry - it’s still worth a shot.”

You barely noticed the flash of disappointment in Sangyeon’s eyes and how his shoulders sagged ever so slightly as you ripped it from his hands. Yet before you could cap it back, he grabbed it back so hastily that you didn’t even have time to react. Throwing his head back, you and Hyunjae could only watch in shocked silence as you gulped down almost half the bottle.

Wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, he shot Hyunjae a piercing glare as the latter let out a wolf whistle, his eyes filled with mirth and genuine adoration.

“Damn. That was... Ironic.”

You didn't say anything except stare at Sangyeon and a moment passed without anything out of the ordinary happening. There was no burst of sparkles or anything growing out from anyone’s body, nothing crazy at all.

Huh. So maybe it was actually a hoax.

“That should be enough proof,” he said in an ‘I told you so’ tone which you rolled your eyes at. “That's some nice potion though or whatever you wanna call it.”

“Really? Let me have a taste.”

Reaching over, Hyunjae took a sip and hummed merrily.

“Oh dang, this is amazing. It’s like an orange smoothie except a million times better.”

Lifting his head, he turned to look at you and what you saw made you almost stumble back in shock. The colour of his eyes held a faint flash of pink before they returned to normal but when they did, they no longer held the playfulness and casual air that Hyunjae always wore but rather, they were filled with such intense passion and affection. It was like looking into the eyes of someone who was extremely, completely, slap me silly and deeply...

In love.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you look? I know I’ve never said this but... I think I love you,” Hyunjae said in a low, soft voice as he reached out to hold your hands in his.

“I...I...” You spluttered at a complete loss of words, wringing your hands frantically.

At that, Sangyeon swivelled around to stare at the two of you.

He could only watch as Hyunjae lifted his hand to gently brush your hair away from your face as his other hand reached up to cup your face.

“How could I not have notice- Hey!”

Grabbing him by the collar from behind, Hyunjae practically flew back as Sangyeon pulled him away with a disapproving frown on his face. There was a deep frown etched onto his face, his eyes crinkling as he looked at the latter with an almost irritated expression. Though somehow, you could detect a faint hint of fear in his demeanour. In a way, the uneven and volatile energy radiated so strongly off him that it was hard not to see it in any other way.

Was Sangyeon perhaps jealous?

No. It couldn’t be, he was your best friend. Furthermore, how did the potion work on Hyunjae but not Sangyeon? Unless...

You let out a soft gasp as the realisation dawns upon you. It seemed as if Sangyeon may have come to the same realisation almost as soon as you did because he turned to you with such an expression of sheer panic, the sound of his heart pounding so loudly you could hear it.

The potion didn’t work because he was already in love with you.

215 notes · View notes

jaeminscoffee · 4 years

Text

Lo contrario al amor | q. kn; s. jn

Lo contrario al amor- The opposite of love.

Pairing- Seo Johnny x reader x Qian Kun

Genre- Smut.

Word count- 4.14k

Warnings- threesome, sexual themes followed, stripper!reader au, richceo!kun and Johnny au, overstimulation, horrible depiction of how a strip club works, light spanking, dirty talking, praise kink, honestly a filth, why am i even bothering with the warnings-, pet names: princess, doll, slut, baby girl. Sir kink. Also kinda rushed because I'm an idiot (actually, it's cause i wrote this a day before my sociology exam so..-)

Synopsis- The way they looked at you seemed close enough to love. You thought it looked quite the opposite of love. And your definition of the opposite of love was lust.

Type- Requested! I'm sorry this took long! I really had to push myself to write this oskekke

Raven's up next, you've got 2 minutes!" Jacob screamed in the changing room where you all lined up according to who's going up the stage next, all dolled up, the actual costumes underneath the loose shirts handed to you for coverage until the performance.

"Raven's not performing today. She's got a few other works to do"

Stripper. Not many are usually proud of that line of profession. But you thought nothing wrong of it. You were proud to blurt out "I work at N-WV club as a part time stripper and part time server". You loved dancing and you loved the attention you got, you thought it was great. And you got paid handsomely too so that's a plus one.

What made you love your job further more than you already loved it was the regulars you had during your days of performance.

The thing you liked about your club was they never reveal personal identity. You each had a code name of your own. You were given the name Raven by the audience due to your dark tresses and the variety of black outfits you'd worn and performed and not to mention, absolutely rocked in. Another reason to love your work. Safe identity with no harms to personal life whatsoever.

Hel and Hades. You'd ridiculed the names when you first heard them from your co-worker. "Which idiots would name themselves after the vikings and the death god??" you'd mocked until you actually met the owners of the names.

Always sat the farthest away from the stage but dead in the middle which showcased the entirety of the stage in one screen was the table labelled by their names. Two young sat always adorned in a suit, the coat of the tux shrugged off their body with it loosely hanging over their shoulder, the tie tugged loose with the collar button undone and the sleeves rolled up to their elbow.

One, Hades, the male with dark brown hair that was swept neatly to the side with a few strands resting freely on the forehead. Seemingly a little more built than the other, eyes stoic with focus on each and every one of your moves with the bottom of his perfectly shaped lips between his teeth. His gaze never failed to make you shudder. The only way to explain would be deadly.

The other one, Hel. He wasn't all that bad himself. Far from bad. Faded turquoise hair tousled carelessly at the crown of his head perfectly portrayed his exhaustion at work. But that only added as a charm to him as his messed up hair gave him an ethereal look. He'd always have his arms folded over his chest. Almost the same build as the other. A smirk played on his lips each time you'd discard a material from your body and then another. The look was still the same as deadly as Hades'. A little softer and subtle ton of sin hid under his angelic features. Intoxicating would be the right word for him.

You turn towards the owner of the club just as you hook in your hanging diamond earring, fixing the rhinestone choker "What other works?" you ask confused and a little taken aback at the same time. Mr. Kim (who'd asked you on multiple occasions to just call him Doyoung) was the organized and no 'last minute' booking type of guy. If someone wanted him to do something for them they'd have to let him know that at least a week or two prior. Whether it came to booking a private performance, or booking a VIP seat. It had to be done within a week before the actual work.

"Come with me." he replied calmly with his hands dug into the pockets of his formal jeans.

"Yeah, let me just get my masquerade mask-"

"Leave it behind". You stand in place, still with the motions of rush still going on around you. Leave the mask behind? That'd reveal part of your identity and that definitely wasn't a part of the club. "Huh?"

"It's a private booking, you don't need the mask, doll" Doyoung exclaimed as though he hadn't just failed to let you know of the private booking before the day. "I don't have any private performances scheduled for today, Doyoung"

"Now you have, darling. I'm sorry but they're important to this club. And to me." with that he whipped his head towards the exit door before nodding at you to follow behind him.

You quickly discard the loose shirt, opting to wear a robe around your outfit before you follow behind him through the dimly lit, sketchy yet posh passage across the club to the section where tiny cabins were situated.

You jog slightly to catch up with his long strides while clutching onto the rope of your robe. "Who are they? The oh so important people?" you ask from behind him.

"Mr. Seo and Mr.Qian."

"Who?" you inquire, face contorted in confusion at the unfamiliar names. "Let's say, You'll see once we get there." he replied, taking a sharp turn towards the more isolated regions of the club.

You say nothing in reply, silently following him a few more steps before he comes to an abrupt halt in front of one the cabins at the end of the hallway. He knocked twice on the door, reaching out to the door knob twisting it to unlock the door.

Names of gods of hell was a smart choice.

There sat inside the room were the two regulars, looking absolutely sinister in clothing as simple as formal work wear. " Ms. Y/ln at your service just as you asked for" Doyoung spoke up first after stepping into the room. Expecting him to call you by your work name, you were once again taken aback at how he regarded you with your last name but did nothing to correct him, instead chose to stand silently beside him.

' Must be important enough to break his own club rules. '

"We'll take it from here, Thanks Doyoung" smiled the brown haired lad, Hades.

"My pleasure, Johnny" Doyoung nodded at the other in acknowledgment of his presence before turning back facing you, smiling at you with a tilt of his head and a pat at your robe clad shoulder and headed towards the door with that, exiting the room and leaving you in the closed space with the two men.

You hear the click of the lock from behind you, only now lifting your gaze from the ground as you shift your weight from one feet to another, looking at one male then the other. Your clothing does nothing to help you feel secure under their eyes, strong enough to make you feel bare with two layers of clothing on your body. Weird how you, the confident on stage with at least 50 or more pairs of eyes on you, was now feeling conscious of yourself in front of just two pairs of eyes.

"Hi, I'm Raven-" you start, finally shaking off the nervousness to get your job started and done with, something about both looking at you as though they'd devour you whole having you shaking the slightest.

"Y/n, that's your name, hm?" the one, Johnny, or so called by Doyoung, spoke up, interrupting your mid sentence as the blue haired just leaned forward in his seat, his elbows resting lazily on his knees, absolutely loving the way you were taken aback, the same everyday smirk displayed on his feature.

"Yes. But here in this club, we go by our code names. Please refer to me as Raven, Sir." you reply, stepping out of daze as you tried keeping your tone as polite as possible. "In this room we go by our real names, doll" he finally spoke up, the one beside Johnny. "I'm Kun. That's Johnny. There, we all know each other's names now" Kun, spoke in a smug tone, eyes darkening shades as they roam around your figure.

"But sir, that's against the rules of our club" you try explaining, only after scoffing in your mind as you recalled back to how the owner himself went against the rule. "Here, Inside these four walls, the rules to be followed are only to be set by us, that's what we paid for, princess" Johnny beat Kun to speaking up.

"Yes, sir" you reply after a moment of silence as the two males shifted into a more comfortable position on the leather couch. You stood awkwardly beside the pole in the middle of the room, fumbling with the knot at the center of your stomach, trying so hard not to keep a continuous eye contact with them.

Dangit. What's it with me today?

"So, will you put on a show for us now or do we have to wait a little more?" Kun asked with his eyebrows raised.

"Ah! Yes." you reply quick, making fast steps forward towards the corner of the room where the speaker with a remote on top was situated. You pick up the controller and pressed play, a sensual tune immediately vibrating through the speakers, filling the silent room with the tune. You place the controller back on top of the speaker, inhaling sharply before getting into the mood, shaking off all previous nervousness, instead replacing it with a seductional look and a smirk on your face.

You run your fingers through your hair, intentionally messing it up to make you look even appealing than you already did. You turn towards the front, walking one leg crossing the other towards the pole, circling it, with just your fingers grazing the cold metal as you stare at them one after the other enough to have them hooked at your doings.

You give them a wink before lifting a leg up with a push, the other rooted at the base of the pole as you clutch tightly onto the pole for balance while your body twirled around the metal, the robe still on.

You continue playing around the pole, ending the pole segment with a drop down to the ground in a rather seductive way. The tune passed half of the song, changing into a much faster beat to which you finally hooked your fingers onto the knot hiding your black lace dress under, slowly undoing it while their gazes got much harder. Your eyes travel lower on both of their bodies, a soft dent forming over the blue jeans making you feel proud.

The robe now off, you felt bare than ever with just a black lingerie now adorning your body, but you kept going. You stand dead in front of them as they lean back in their seat.

You move to the beats, feeling yourself finally let loose as the cockiness of all the attention on you got to your head.

Lost in beats, you let out a yelp of surprise when you feel your wrist being tugged at, making you stumble steps and land onto Johnny's lap. You stare wide eyed at him as the domineering aura he had made you feel small under his gaze. You grip onto his shoulder for support to keep your bottom half from touching his muscled up ones. "Keep going with the performance, darling" and so you did.

You'd given lap dances before. But that was at a frat party which was forced and half hearted as it was a stupid dare posed by one your friends. So you were a little nervous as the undying want of making them captivated by you strong enough to overpower the nervousness as you lower yourself and get back to moving to the beats. On Johnny's lap this time around.

Grinding your hips against the latters, you see from your peripheral Kun's head thrown back as he kneaded himself through the material of his jeans, the sight making you whimper softly as you grind harder against Johnny, earning a groan from him.

The song comes to an end slowly, the beats slowing down the same way your movements did, completely coming to a halt once the music stopped. You were panting slightly, palms resting against his built chest (you can literally feel the indents under your hands) when you feel yourself being lifted, in a swift motion over from Johnny's lap to Kun's with your back facing his front.

You look up after having your eyes closed in surprise at the sudden motion only to have Johnny close the space between the two of you, Kun's hands finding their way around your waist. Face buried in your neck. The initial shock of a really good looking guy kissing you while the other played with the skin of your neck washed over your body with a jolt.

Yes, you're loving the feeling. Having the attention of two absolute sinful men, not to mention, good looking ones was heaven. There's no denying that you felt attracted to them. But it went against your club rules, and most definitely against your morals. So you shake off Johnny, placing your hands between your bodies to create some space between the two of you, "I can't -we can't, if Doyoung finds out I'll lose my job, i can't afford that-" you explain as you cower further into Kun's lap at Johnny's strong gaze, feeling like you've just disappointed him. "Then so be it. You can work for us." he leaned in once again, only to be stopped by you for the second time. "No, we shouldn't-"

"No one gets to know what happens inside these four walls and you get to keep your job, how about that?" Kun offered, mumbling into your neck which had you screwing your eye shut at the sensation, "But this is wrong" you try rationalising.

"Oh darling this is wrong in all the right ways, don't worry" and with that you let yourself relax onto the man's body, Johnny forcing himself onto you once he heard you heave out a tiny 'okay'.

One hand holding you still against him, Kun let his other hand travel up while Johnny pressed his lips against yours in a teeth clashing kiss, not wasting a second to bite down onto your lower lip to have access into your mouth. You groan out at the feeling of hands all over your body as Kun kneaded your breast, lips traveling up your neck, to your ear lobe which be nibbled on, while giving most of his attention in playing with your breast.

Eyes screwed shut, your body fall limp on top of Kun's body the moment Johnny cupped your heat through the material of your lingerie, the only thought you had being 'fuck morals' when this is how good they're making you without even directly giving attention to the parts you need them the most. Johnny pulled away from your lips, a thin trail of saliva still keeping you connected as he applied pressure on the bundle of nerves through the material of your clothing, well, barely covering clothing.

"You have no idea how long we've waited for this, baby girl." Kun whispered against your hair while shifting his attention to the unattended boob.

You jerk forward when Johnny enters the clothing, now touching you bare. The feeling of his cold fingers against your sex had your head roll back and rest against Kun's shoulder. "That feels good, right baby?" Johnny inquires while using his thumb to apply pressure on your clit, drawing small circles on the swollen bud the same time Kun pinched the sensitive bud of your chest, making you able to only nod your head at the lads question, "Words, baby. Use your words"

The expression on Johnny's face had you thinking better than wanting to disobey him, "Yes!" you moan out at the increase of speed in stimulation as Johnny's other hand helped keep your legs apart. "Yes what, doll?"

"Yes, s-sir.. " you mewl, feeling a familiar knot form at the bottom of your stomach making your face contort into an expression of pure bliss. "There we go" he cooed, moving his attention from your clit to the entrance, plunging two fingers in straight into the wetness as your sleek wall gave enough access to do so, immediately setting a fast pace, coaxing you to your first high with a shudder in your body. Johnny kept his fingers moving to help ride out your high while you feel Kun shift behind you, "My turn"

You feel yourself being lifted off of his lap and placed on the couch. You hiss when you feel Johnny remove his fingers from within you and into his mouth, licking your juice clean off his fingers. But you don't get much time to intake the sight as you feel soft muscles working their way on your now sensitive core. You look down to see Kun buried between your legs. You were probably too dazed to notice him drag your lingerie bottom down and place himself there.

You whimper as he circled his tongue over your clit while Johnny took his place beside you, kneading himself the same way Kun was a few moments ago. You close your eyes tight at the feeling of Kun's mouth working wonders at your core, a mixture of moans and curses leaving your mouth, "You taste so fucking sweet, baby" the vibrations of his voice sent shocks of pleasure down your core, added to that a finger being inserted into the the messy hole triggered your second high,

"Kun oh!-"

The sounds of him lapping at your juices made your skin heat up, blood rushing up your cheeks while you choke out a sob at the faint pain you're now feeling at the continuous stimulation.

"You did so well, baby" Johnny hushes you while Kun still kept going. Johnny caressed your hair, trying to distract you from the aftermath of being overstimulated.

The feeling being too overwhelming, you finally close your legs over Kun's head, making him come to a halt as he leaned back from his kneeling position. The lighting in the room highlighted the wetness on his chin and lips as you finally got some time to catch your breath.

"Who's going first?" Kun inquired, looking more at Johnny than you while wiping the residue using the back of his hands. Instead of considering giving a reply, Johnny looked at you with tilt in his head and a smirk on his face while you shy away from their gaze. "she'll take both of us like the little slut she is, isn't that right baby?" he asked, a probably rhetorical question while his gaze stayed hard. At the lack of response from your side, Kun took a step forward, bending down slightly, reaching out to clutch your face a soft yet firm grip, forcing you to look at him.

"Aren't you going to answer him, doll?"

"Yes, Johnny." you answer, mind a little clouded to think straight but still managed to form coherent sentences, enough to give a proper reply. "The pleasure really got to you, huh baby?" Johnny inquired, standing up while working on undoing his belt, "It's sir for you slut. Get on your knees. Now"

You scramble quick onto your feet, mumbling a silent 'I'm sorry, sir' and dropped down on to your knees, hissing at the slight irritational burn between your legs but had no time to get distracted with it as the lad in front of you placed himself right before you, tugging harshly at your chin to make you look up to his eyes, "I don't think i need to tell you what to do from here, baby. Get to work" And so you did, you were about to reach out to grip the shaft when you felt Kun rub at the skin of your ass, while providing a soothing feeling for a second before you felt his hands come down with force, making you yelp out of shock with your mouth wide open.

Taking this chance, Johnny let go of your chin, finding comfort in the warmth of your locks instead, pushing himself forward and forcing his hardness into your mouth, groaning at the feeling of your tongue being flat laid out below his member. "You look fucking stunning like this, princess"

Focused on the sounds coming out of Johnny's voice, determined to pull out more, you start bobbing your head forward and backwards, taking in as much as you could each time you pulse forward. You try relaxing your jaw and focus on your breathing as much as possible, to try and not activate your gag reflex when Johnny's hips start thrusting his hips forward, following the same rhythm as your head making the head hit the back of your throat, sending jolts all over your body.

Too focused on making Johnny feel good, you fail to notice Kun enter you from behind, slowly pulsing inch by inch into your still sore wetness, catching you by surprise as you let out a throaty moan, spending waves of pleasure up Johnny's body, pulling him closer and closer to his high.

"How fucking wet." You hear Kun groan from behind you while slowly starting to move his hips once he had completely eased into you, making you lose your rhythm you'd kept for pleasing Johnny, stilling and letting him fuck your mouth instead.

"She's so fucking wet, John. And wet. You're a little whore for all this, aren't you?" the blue haired lad questioned as though expecting an answer, "you love being used like this, don't you?"

Too occupied with being stuffed with a cock in your mouth and Kun picking up his pace from behind you, all you could do was lean forward and balance yourself on all four while letting them take care of your pleasure and theirs.

You feel Johnny's hip stutter, seemingly getting closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. His face contorted in pleasure, seeming desperate to chase his high. The vibrations from your moans and whimpers only dragged him closer, added to the fact how you sucked on his shaft like your life depended on it.

"I'm going to come, baby. You'll be a good girl and swallow all of me, right?" He asked, while buck forward from a rather hard thrust from behind, Kun's groans mixed with yours and Johnny's slightly high pitched ones, along with the sound of skin slapping pulled you close to your high too.

Unable to answer with being stuffed, you nod your head as much as you could while flattening your tongue out and giving one last hard suck, earning a loud groan from Johnny as he came to a halt, thrusting slowly to empty himself completely in you and partly to ride out his high, you keep your mouth wide open to allow him to do so, while screwing your eyes shut while Kun reached out from beneath you, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves and drawing quick circles on it.

Once Johnny pulled out, you immediately swallow all of his essence, not wasting a drop of it while letting out a sob when a particular thrust had Kun finding your soft spot, coaxing you closer to your high making you convulse around his shaft, "Open up, babygirl" Johnny tapped at your cheeks, while his chest heaved up and down. You open, showing him that you'd down aa he asked you to, and immediately closed it again, pulling at your bottom lips when Kun's ministration grew faster and hurried on your clit, "I'm so fucking close, baby. So, so fucking close"

And that was shown by how sloppy his thrusts had gotten. Johnny mumbled out a soft 'good girl' and flopped down onto the leather couch while watching his friend destroy your core.

You reach your high with a loud cry, closing around Kun even frequently that before as pleasure finally turned into pain, your core practically begging for a breather. Your whimpers, and the constant opening and closing around his shaft threw him off the edge as you felt his member twitch inside you before warm fluid shot up inside your sex. Kun whimpered out praises while slowly pulling out once he'd completely emptied himself inside you, running his hands up and down your back in a comforting manner while Johnny looked at your face. Tears running down your cheeks from the constant stimulation, sweat from previous doings and hair disheveled by his grip on it. Drool rolling slightly down the side of your face while yours and Kun's essence spilled out from your core down your thighs.

You were feeling ecstatic. A warmth from being so full. The feeling could be mistaken as love;

"You're incredible, doll" Kun let out with an airy chuckle while Johnny agreed along

But you knew it was the opposite of it and so did the other two in the room.

It was the feeling of your desires being fulfilled.

246 notes · View notes

blankdblank · 3 years

Text

Brother Dearest Pt 68

State vs Lewis Patzer

“October 31, 1947. Mr Barnham’s mansion, while he threw a costume party in another of his properties and upon a search that several priceless gold statues along with gem accented decorations were taken along with a solid ruby/ivory/ebony piano and a variety of black market paintings and marbles. Almost all of the black market pieces were returned to the museums and exhibits they were stolen from. The gem based goods are still missing. All the portraits and statues were replaced by ones modeled around cats.” The student playing the suspect fought a chuckle while you listened to the rest of the opening statement of the Prosecution Antonio Speltzer in a ploy to paint this absurdly rich person as a victim who was heinously victimized.

Mr Patzer’s Lawyer Vernon Dorman stood and took his on turn to bring up how this whole trial was twisted to fulfill a personal grudge against Mr Patzer while there are other suspects who actually could have done this, including his twin Dennis Patzer. And with the conclusion of the opening statements that case was paused to allow the student teams to swap places with the Divorce Case while in the chair you lifted your feet to cross your legs and sit up straighter when one of the girls started to press into your spine to guide them more forward into your belly.

Schmidt vs Schmidt

For the husband Emil Mr Felton stood to call up the first character witness for their case to try and sway your impression of the two people who hoped to gain what the wanted and needed in this division of assets and custody.

Ray Schwartz – Age 32 atop the stand sat and as best friend to the husband made his loyalty known in a slew of statements as for what he had heard and supposedly witnessed upon her failure as both wife and mother. Compared fully to the elder Mrs Schmidt and how she was the pinnacle role model mother and wife for the husband to aim for in a wife for himself.

Dan Vallier – Age 42, the former boss of Mrs Schmidt in the gallery she once was employed while you made a few pretend notes to the student playing up his testimony that she couldn’t keep up with the job. Of course you could hear from the details that it was her focus on her son’s activities and health that had kept her from jumping to the Boss’ every beck and call that landed her out of his employment. Which had the male student for the husband smirk in believe that the male pretend wife had been made openly a pitiful financial provider for their young son.

Lee Hogue in the excuse of Mr Vallier began his own call for the first two character witnesses for the pretend Mrs Schmidt. Irene Moses – Age 23 was called up and delved amusingly into several tales of how in her former relationship with Mr Schmidt who dumped her for an even younger woman with whom he was to be soon hopefully wedded. From broken property, his outbursts and continued possessive letters that she is still receiving years after their break up.

Leslie Welch – Age 24, former driver to her and their child shared a trio of tales when he witnessed the husband degrading his wife and being lost into a deep dependence upon alcohol that has drawn a new side out of Mr Schmidt that is rather despicable and cruel to those around him who do not control his paycheck. As he shared that around fellow employees or bosses he can put on a calm exterior and paint himself with a friendlier brush.

A couple exams and an open Saturday granted you some work on a new part for your tv you made that in the middle of the next page of the translation you moved onto next to keep from using too much energy you drifted off and woke up to a lunch under a blanket in a nest of pillows the guys had nestled around you. Talks of the house next door came up with Gina and her husband who talked with Eddie on more plans through the meal you struggled to focus on at the lack of a comfortable position to be found. Sharp and clear the drop of your fork to the plate turned heads to you and brought James back from the kitchen without the refill on your drink he’d gone to fetch. His hand right over your back while your hands folded around the arms of your chair in a pained inch back in your seat, “Breathe out Bunny,” Gina said in a pop up to take your free side and gently laid a hand over your still supple belly. “Just breathe out, nice and slow.”

Slow and steady you exhaled and James said, “That wasn’t labor.”

Gina shook his head and said, “No, belly’s not hard.” Shakily you inhaled through the receding wave of pain that had radiated from your hips and said in a lock of your eyes on his, “Just your first Braxton Hicks. Just a check of your muscles.”

Sharply you exhaled and said, “You know if it feels like this why don’t all the girls do this? So much fun,” you said making her chuckle and reach up to fix your bangs that fell in your face.

“I’m going to get you some more pickles, baby corn and beets. Mine always relaxed when I snacked extra.”

Sharply you exhaled again to James’ next stroke of your back while you somehow suddenly came upon a comfortable sort of hunch forward and lifted your fork again saying, “You were saying, about the green tile.” Tentatively attention went back to the house and when he had confirmed Victor would watch you in the few moments away James did fetch your drink and remained fixed at your side to ensure your comfort for the rest of the day.

All through your return to the nest to do more translations until up in bed you laid out after a few more gentle pecks from your worried husband who in his trip to turn off the light turned to eye you on the bed in a soft huff. Hastily he flipped the switch and came back to bed and eased up on it behind you asking, “Are you in pain?”

“I’m an inch too low,” you sighed and he chuckled and leaned in to curl a hand below your thighs to glide you just a bit higher inside your nest that had you settle in more comfortably. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome.” And sweetly behind you he cuddled close, pleased that your extra metal insulation in the walls had kept the house cool in this humid spring so that he could cuddle up to you still without causing you to warm up too much and send him away. Under your stolen shirt from his supply he slid his hand to stroke your belly in the close of his eyes to confirm for himself with all his focus that his babies were not coming out early and would wait the few more weeks left to the finish line for a private birth in your home your family would fix up the final details upon your return.

“I suppose Herc will be interested to know about my pain earlier. Finally have something more than a bruise to question him about.”

A bit more he wiggled his forehead to rest fully into your hair against the back of your head to the kick against his palm, “I doubt he has been bored in seeing to you and our girls.”

“I just mean, 48 weeks pregnant, and nine weeks left finally something to get his blood pumping.”

That had him chuckle, “You didn’t see him pop in the middle of our house to share you’d been scared by an owl when ever we got tingles something happened after the Twins gave the all clear on danger. Plenty of blood pumping moments.”

You sighed again and asked, “What happens if I keep having triplets? One set after the other?”

“We’ll have to build another wing onto the house. But however our babies come in whatever groups they choose to arrive in I will do all I can to help you. I wish I could do more.”

“You’re amazing,” you sighed again and said to the pull of your leg up that lifted his head.

“Foot cramp again?” You nodded and after a gentle press of his lips to your cheek he sat up and slid down taking the covers with him to rest your foot on his lap to cradle it and massage the odd cramp in your foot that had been on and off since your false contraction earlier. “At least Herc will be by after Mass.” Again you sighed making him grin at the sight of you with brows furrowed to the cramp that had him start to hum to you while he massaged your foot and lower leg gradually lulling you to sleep.

It almost seemed to have come full circle, at the uncertain beginning when there was no idea three babies were growing inside of your belly now with almost five pound babies safely growing stronger by the day again naps and sleep were paramount in this stressful town. And he knew that much like over the Winter when you magnificently had begun to show and they had grown impressively in that peaceful free time he knew could change the back end of this pregnancy for you. Not just free from the eyes of the press but well within the chance to have your parents there to fill those gaps of support he and the others couldn’t fill while Herc was available to come up and stay for daily checks if needed. And when he felt your legs were at ease he settled down again around your back to slip into his own dreams of what was coming.

Spare inches on the now oddly shinier belly you stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom with your head tilted through a turn from side to side. The impressive bubble shape a bit less pointed from the stretched area where your babies began to stretch out more had you tell James in his step to your side from the toilet nook he turned away from after having flushed a moth he found in your closet. “I look like someone coated me in butter.”

Softly he chuckled and said after a kiss of your temple, “You look fantastic.” Still smiling from a candid photograph he had taken earlier when you were changing out of his stolen clothes to add to the collection. Back from your side he collected the pants you wanted to wear he helped you step into after you’d changed your underwear and added some padding to your bra in case of some leaking of the milk you started to dribble. A blouse was next to add and be settled underneath the straps of your pants. “Only means the babies are growing and you with them.”

“From the side I look like a snake that ate a beaver.” Unable to help it he chucked and leaned in to kiss you on his lips sweetly and then bent to add your socks and your sneakers.

“You do not.” Up again he stood and guided you to the bathroom where he helped to comb out your braid he helped to work the top half of your hair back into a clip so your hat would sit nicely while the rest of your curls hung loosely down your back. Rain sounds grew louder on the way down and after a light breakfast in the cars you drove off to the Mass lit by candlelight followed by another meeting with Herc.

This time it was a great deal more focused upon checks of your hips and pelvis, these done in one of the spare rooms for more room for use of a new device that cut out another worrisome intrusive internal exam. Checks of blood pressure with a bulb activated pump were followed by a prick of your finger for a drop of blood to be added to a solution in a small vial he settled inside a lemon sized cube device.

Over that a full readout of the results were projected and you asked to his focused expression, “Is that good?”

“Oh yes, I would suggest some more pickles though. Your girls are using a good bit of your iron.”

Eddie popped up, “Pickles, on it,” and hurried to the kitchen.

Herc said with a grin, “Again, the tests are all good, your pelvic floor as well is growing more elastic which is a good sign at this stage. The hips as well, nice and cushioned for when they shift in labor.”

You nodded and asked at the still projected results, “What is all that?” Spreading his grin to shift the projection so you could read it properly while he explained it all and how it showed your progress and the girls’. You nodded and asked timidly, “You um, so you don’t have to do any, internal exams?”

Kindly he gave you a grin to James’ pat on your back, “No, thankfully with our kin we require that usually only on the day of labor to gauge progress or to shift the position of the babies. I understand that first exam was quite unsettling to you when that Nurse examined your ovaries.” You nodded and he gently patted your hand rested on the bed beside you, “I will not cross that boundary of your comfort until necessary and only with your permission and full disclosure of the reasoning. I do understand there is quite the common notion that your body is no longer your own in pregnancy,” he nodded as you did in a fight against tears that misted into your eyes. “This is your body and I will always respect that. There is always time to explain things even in emergencies, a great deal of Doctors forget that compassion when treating patients these days when we see things so pragmatically in search of diagnosis or cure of ailments.” You nodded again and smiled to Eddie in his lowering a full try of snacks to the bed he eased off of to rest beside you, “For now, leg and foot exam while you snack and I will check your levels again in a bit.”

A couple of contractions when your exam was through had Herc shift his focus to her and her baby girl who through him made it clear that she was ready to come out in the next few days that allowed the brood to plan accordingly for the sudden arrival. The family dinner that followed granted you a chance to hand over a gift to her just in case she went into labor while you were at school, a crank fed mobile that played a lullaby like the one she had been pining over for years when she had a baby girl of her own. Tearfully she gave you a hug and confirmed that you hadn’t spent the ridiculous sum that the magazine she’d seen it in listed it for and squealed excitedly as her husband promised to install it when they got home over the crib to have it ready.

State vs Lewis Patzer

Antonio Speltzer stood across from the Detective Nathaniel Madison, Age 43, who delved into the whole process of the investigation of the case and then delved into the identification of Mr Patzer as the suspect who was behind the robbery.

And when Mr Speltzer sat down and representation for the Defense Vernon Dorman stood and adjusted his jacket buttons and asked his first few questions and then finished off with what he hoped to be his zinger. “Detective Madison, is it not true that Jacob Shea, who you credit the naming of Mr Patzer as the prime suspect, named him in the process of negotiating a plea deal on his own pending felony charges?”

Detective Madison cleared his throat and said, “Yes, we were discussing his plea deal when he brought it to our attentions.”

Vernon Dorman answered, “No further questions, Your Honor.”

Cecilia Marsh – Age 39 came next with the Prosecution who displayed a variety of blown up copies of several art pieces that she priced and named. A few which you corrected the dates in the notes and made a few people in the crowds smirk at your unknown mouthing of the proper dates, including the author, Clifford Adler, of the case who made note to check those dates later to correct in the notes for the case. And had to smirk at the pictures of the replacement pieces of artwork all themed after cats.

Vernon Dorman at the end of the initial questioning stood to say, “No questions, Your Honor.” And he sat again for the next witness to be led up as the prosecution gathered up the pictures and Officer Graham left the easel for the blueprint of the Mansion brought out for the next witness.

Jimmie Feigel – Age 28. Head security guard in charge of that property was asked several questions on his usual tasks and pattern of patrol and then questions of the discovery of the theft came next which the Defense expanded on by clarifying that even in the absence of goods there was no sign of who might have committed the crime or even how they had gotten in or out.

Jacob Shea – Age 43. A Mobster who testifies in deal for pending case that he’d seen one of the twins at a bar planning the heist and at a pool hall gaining a crew to pull it off. Hinting coercion of identification by the Defense digging more into the details of how the identity of the suspect was brought up eventually bringing to light there was a supply of pictures laid out for him to choose from when the Detective swayed the questioning from his own Felony charges to the robbery. An admission that had the crowd buzzing all through the switch over for the next case.

Schmidt vs Schmidt

Ben Lynch – Age 51, a licensed Psychiatrist. Atop the stand was halfway through his statement of how he was approached in the planned testimony that Mr Schmidt had approached him and shared about his wife to see what sort of mental problems she might be suffering from to solidify his grounds that she was unstable.

“Mr Lynch,” to the cease of the silent taps of your pen atop your notepad you felt his eyes shift to land on you with brows raised and you asked, “Did you just say that Mr Schmidt approached you and filled you into this whole situation?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” he answered and you tapped your pen on the notepad again.

“Have you ever spoken to Mrs Schmidt?”

“No, Your Honor,” he said and stole a glance at Billie Bretz, the author of the case over the shoulder of the pretend concerned Mr Schmidt’s shoulder.

“Have you ever met Mrs Schmidt?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“Alright, then I’m going to have to excuse you.”

“Okay,” he said and stood to return to follow Officer McTavish who smirked guiding him back out to the hall before the next witness would be brought in.

Mr Schmidt’s Lawyer Mr Felton asked, “Your Honor?”

“I will not accept any diagnosis from any Medical Professional who has not personally consulted the supposed afflicted party. And had Mrs Schmidt spoken to him without the grounds of a criminal mental inquiry said testimony would be inadmissible in court as well even with the permission of the Husband to share her confidential information shared with Mr Lynch unless she had threatened to harm someone or herself. And then that would be heard in grounds of a criminal case not a Divorce Hearing.”

“Fair enough,” Mr Felton said that had his pretend client shift his hands in a ‘what the hell’ motion he could only shake his head at while the judges of the case made note of your decision and reasoning.

Estelle Warner – Age 21. Assistant who says she demands gifts and is bad with and is after money came next and had you pretending to take notes to keep from rolling your eyes through the fruitless testimony.

Where you had to keep from rolling your eyes you had to keep from laughing when the next student came up to represent the 20 year old current mistress, Wilhelmina Adler. Who was called in favor of the current Mrs Schmidt who ends up admitting in the line of questioning by Lee Hogue in favor of his client that brought out her pattern of dating well off men. Ending with a glaring statement that she has the impression that Mr Schmidt’s son Daniel could ruin things between the both of them and their happiness.

Leonard Frisbe – Age 39. Tutor for young Daniel came with a share on both environments the child was residing in, and while the father’s home was more spacious his mother’s home came with a parent who took part in the studies of the child to help him understand topics that came difficult for the tutor to get him to understand.

With a nod you flashed him a smile and said, “Thank you Mr Frisbe, you are excused.” He nodded and strolled out and you called the case for the day to meet again in two days for the next step in the process.

More exams and handwritten essay prompts filled your Tuesday while you sat to the side in separate desks while your Professors ensured that more of the final assignments were crossed off their grade books to finalize your credits before the month was up. Jointly along with a note from the Dean of Barnard and Columbia they stated that the first week of April was the solidified date that you would be graduating this semester as a sort of firm support of you and this next step of your pregnancy to grant some highly required rest from all of the public press. All around the dinner table at least that letter gave a solid date to be spread through the family to plan accordingly.

State vs Lewis Patzer

Vernon Dorman for Mr Patzer’s defense called up the first witness and began with Matilda Patzer – Age 54, his grandmother who was with him and his Grandfather as well as the night when the goods were returned. While you hoped to throw out the case a few details were a bit too shaky for you to do so when the Prosecution cross examined her.

Charity Patzer – Age 22 was next and also was a hair away from being worthy of throwing out the case when she stood as his alibi for Halloween night.

Ralph Adler – Age 27 was next and while the Prosecution used the fact that there are identical twins involved was used to fight the alibis was used against the Prosecution’s case with a doubled down attack that the Detective had a deep seeded grudge against Lewis Patzer since he did not return the affections the Detective’s daughter had for him. Buzz worthy testimony the Prosecution could not shake that gave way to the final witness before the closing statements.

Lawrence Barnham – Age 45, the victim of the case was called next and took the stand to play what the files had him as a living airhead of an heir to a fortune with little to offer the world beyond his pocketbook withdrawals. All of which brought little sympathy from anyone when his ploy to state he had lost dear things to him, and while it made a tiny dent in his overall fortune did not leave him any worse for wear aside from hurt feelings.

Schmidt vs Schmidt

Once everyone took their seats after a bathroom break for you to the group you flashed a quick grin and said, “I realize the both of you are hoping that after all of the character witness testimonies that I could decide everything for you and wrap it up in a nice bow for you. However I have a few more questions and information I need from the both of you.” Both sides nodded and you asked, “Mr Schmidt, how many hours do you work?” he answered the question and then shifted in his seat as you asked, “And while you work when you have custody of your son who watches him?”

“I have a nanny.”

You nodded and made a tick mark next to that question on the list you had noted to ask later and asked, “And in or out of your custody how many school events do you go to?”

“Um,” he said and wet his lips, “I go to the occasional game when I can with my job.”

“Fair enough,” you said and made a tick mark on the list and asked, “And how much savings do you have set away for Daniel for schooling or emergencies?”

Your eyes landed on him in the draw of his pretend smug attitude in saying to a nudge of his elbow into his lawyer’s, “I make more than enough with my job to not need savings. And the boy isn’t anywhere near old enough to think on college yet.”

Blankly at him you stared a moment and made him inch back in his seat before you asked the same questions to the male student acting as the wife who while she had basic funds compared to his to draw from she spent more quality time with the boy and never missed a chance to be with him during his school events she assured he made it to.

You nodded and said “I would like to speak to Daniel,” and Officer Browen grinned as you said, “Officer Browen would you escort him in?”

To the hall he went and heads turned to watch the anxious preteen who was the stand in nine year old son that smiled and poked is brother’s arm on the way to the stand where he made sure to flash you a glimpse of the Venom and Battle Bunny comic in his hand. To your smile he settled into his seat and listened as you said, “Now, Daniel, I know this is a bit confusing but I just have a few questions for you to make sure that I have all the details and perspectives.”

He nodded and into his schooling and clubs he shared the memorized details and those he stole glances at his script of his life tucked inside the comic book to answer your questions. Sharing fully that he loved school and his clubs and was an active and happy child who seemed to be adjusting well to the two new household situation even though he might wish his dad would be around more. “What do you think of the new two home situation? Do you feel happier?”

The preteen after a glance at his sheet said, “My parents fight less, and even though Dad doesn’t come to many of my games or meets when he’s not around his new girlfriend he does spend more time with me.” Then he added, “I would like to spend more time with my mom though, usually I spend most of the time with a nanny at dad’s visits when he works.”

You nodded and said, “Well thank you for answering my questions, and if you don’t mind following Officer Browen again your parents should be out in a little bit.” He nodded and smiled in his pop up for a relieved sort of bounce to the hall past his grinning brother who was proud of his baby brother’s successful role in this trial.

And in his absence when the Officer Browen went back to his spot you adjusted yourself to face the parents and said, “As far as the primary custody is concerned I am awarding that to Mrs Schmidt.” Jaws dropped in the crowd and the students at the tables inched up in amused shock as you clarified, “Parenthood is more than money and for all of the houses and hired staff to watch after your son Mr Schmidt he is a kind hearted bubbly boy with big dreams and solitude and distance can only crush that without proper guidance and reinforcement. I will leave the aspect of dates to decide visitation between your Lawyers, however I have a list of information that I will sort through to the details of your assets to ascertain the proper financial support to be granted as child support.”

After a pause you stated, “And amongst the division of dates for visitation I would like the both of you to draft up your wills.” That had their lips part and you said, “We will continue this hearing on Friday.” And you brought down the gavel casting the courtroom in an amused and stunned moment of confusion in your rise and stroll out with the amused General behind you.

Assets present/future

Property/Bank information

Child’s activities and school records

Prenup or postnup

Husband’s work habits

Wife’s possible income, former assets

Possible child support and alimony

All from the evidence boxes were compiled at home and would be consulted later when you got home to mark up the financial settlement while the pretend divided couple would spend the next class they had off to work out with their pretend Lawyers to mark up dates to spilt monthly with holidays divided or agreed to be celebrated together. The wills confusingly were drafted up by means of a textbook they got from the library to know how to write it up with details filled in from the evidence given and typed up for a less shoddy version to be brought into the final hearing on Friday when they hoped the case was to be closed.

“You asked them to make wills?” was whispered through the halls and they continued on excitedly to gossip and guess on your plans to see if they will be right about them when Friday rolled around. The same question that was echoed when you returned home and sat with the notes to compile them all as you used the guys as sounding boards for what you had decided.

Just two weeks were until your trip and through the home small bits were being tucked away in trunks and suitcases to be driven back to Canada to simplify the final tings to grab the day of the move. Absolute neutrality was an odd mood that washed over you and across the main floor you paced and did a few odd stretches along the way that had the guys peer between doorways more than a bit confused by their tries to hint they had your usual nesting spots ready for you that had failed.

Reinforcements sent in the form of a pouting toddler with a ball in hand had you settled down on a cushion on the floor to play with Teddy until dinner was called for. A meal he tottered off to and with an adorable tilt of your head backwards to glance at Victor with a chuckle he squatted to take hold of your upper thighs on your legs you unfolded and planted to help you up once your hands had settled behind his neck. James’ hand extended to claim yours for the walk to eat after having set down the camera to capture that moment and gladly after you had eaten your fill a bath and early night in let them relax.

Closing arguments and the send off of the Jury to deliberate bled to the Divorce Case that had you hand over two copies of the decided arrangements that both sides read along with you while the author of the case smirked taking note of the decisions in the payment plans and custody agreement. Including their decided dates that you signed off on and shared tasks in case of emergency to renegotiate days to skip if one of them was suddenly unavailable to have custody that day.

After that you said, “And I just have one final thing to say before I close this case to you Mr Schmidt. You have no right not to protect your family from the worst case scenario. I know all too well what happens to a mother who loses their spouse and father to their child and now has to adjust accordingly to raise her children alone. And while you might consider nine a huge leap from eighteen if you dropped dead tomorrow your child would be left without any means of support at all. That was the reason for my order to have you write your will, and if you do marry your current flame then I highly suggest re-writing that will to include her and any possible children you might conceive from that union. I would also advise speaking with a financial consultant to begin a savings plan and possible trust for your son that could be set aside for his schooling and remain protected should the worst befall you. Sunny skies today do not negate storm clouds tomorrow. Buy an umbrella and some boots for your son.” You said to the slam of the gavel that had some in the crowd chuckle and begin to clap as you turned to head to the office to simply get out of that room and chair that your body didn’t want to remain fixed upon any longer to final notes being taken by the Judges who collected the copies of your drafted plans for the couple.

For Psychology at least you were able to stand for a bit off to the side of your desk against the wall out of view of mostly everyone but the understanding Professor who calmed on threats of labor when you finally felt relaxed enough to lower into your seat for the rest of the class. Literature however had you arrive to an empty classroom where you read the note that a family emergency had the Professor gone but the TA there with a grin and a special exam in hand to have you complete for a final major credit for the semester for his class. To your usual seat you strolled and accepted the packet to complete then turn in for a short break to browse through one of the courtyards until the Photography club would meet.

Up to the tree where you found the owl from before you peered locked in place only to turn and smile at the Twins who guided you to the club room and would wait to meet you again after to show you to James’ car. And by the time you got home the reason for your discomfort was clear as Ambrose woke the family in the middle of the night when she went into labor and by Saturday morning had a bouncing baby girl to have the family boast about at mass the following day while she got about a week to rest.

Not Guilty would be the words that echoed through the halls while you focused on the course list that you had sent for from the same Alberta Community College that Columbia and Barnard would accept credits for through your summer break to get ahead on your degrees. Some that you would have to attend on campus but others the school at the tolerable distance allowed for weekly visits from a tutor for check ins on your understanding and bi-weekly exams in a program that was meant to aid new mothers specifically in continuing their credits. Quite proudly they meant to welcome the second of the sibling set to grace their campus to take up the courses they had to offer.

And by the time you got to the meeting of the paper your booklet on the Canadian College drew more than a few gazes and Portia smiled asking, “They finally sent the book for your summer classes?”

You nodded calming the young women in the room as you answered, “They’re letting me take a whole chunk of my credits at home, out of the twelve they let me sign up for I have to go on campus for five of them. The rest they’ll send a tutor out to make sure I’m on track and to monitor tests twice a month at the house.”

Portia, “Oh that’s wonderful news. Have you with those Bachelor Degrees in no time.”

Amber asked, “And you’ll be back in September?”

You nodded, “Yes, they’re compact courses in a program for new mothers they are picking up. I think it should go well.”

Another of the young women asked, “And you’ll have time for the birth?”

“Oh ya, I don’t start the at home classes until the end of May and the back half of June I start the on campus classes, so there’s time for me to give birth and get my feet back before I have to head out to the campus, and even that is twice a week.”

The news calmed the group and while you left the room silent smiles behind you were traded in the plan for the first meeting next week to give you an amazing send off to the semester. Schedules to keep over the summer seemed to help and calls from the University had confirmed the best would be chosen and given a non-disclosure contract to not share anything that they would learn about yourself, your family or so much as what color your soap trays were. An odd addition in hopes to have you calmed that the press situation from New York wouldn’t happen in Canada and you would be given a semblance of privacy and heaps of respect in this difficult time of transition. And all you had to pull from the conversation with your moment of corvid brain was to discuss with the family on what type of soap dishes you all wanted for the numerous bathrooms within the spacious manor.

Pt 69

All –

@sherala007, @mariannetora, @jesgisborne, @knitastically, @catthefearless, @theincaprincess, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000, @alishlieb,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @changlingkhat

Brother Dearest - @thorinanddwalinsdwarrowdam, @swoopswishsward

#Mock Trials End #School #Time with family #New Baby Brock #James Howlett x OC #Victor Creed x Norma Jeane #Eddie Brock x OC #Venom

6 notes · View notes

solar3lunar · 3 years

Text

1.𝔹𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙☼︎

Ayama POV

My alarm starts going off. I groan at it then shut it off. It's was a Sunday. I was wondering why I turned it on. I lied in my bed for a bit then it hit me. I wanted to torture myself today. By going on a walk on the beach.

I felt four paws on my thigh. "Morning, Nebula." I said. "Meow" "I'll get up." I told her. I stretched a bit. I took my bonnet off and got out the bed.

Once my feet hit the carpet. I walk towards my closest and pick out something simple and plain. I then went in the bathroom and set my clothes down on the counter and closed the door.

I got undress and put my shower cap on. And got in the shower. Once I was done in the bathroom. I walk out wearing a black tank top, a black crop top hoodie that I could only wear if I have a tank top under it. And black leggings.

I walked back into my room and went straight back to sleep. I woke up about 10 minutes later. Leo woke me up this time. "Okay, Okay." I sighed.

Knowing my dad already went out the house to help the other pro heroes with the exam that coming up tomorrow. I turn on the TV in my room, but all I found was news channel or ads talking about the exam.

I turned it off and went downstairs to get cereal not wanting to make pancakes or french toast. I pass a picture of my mother and father.

I stopped to look at it for awhile. I've seen some pictures of my mother. The rest are kept somewhere in my father's room.

She's Afro-Asian. She passed away when I was 3. I never met my grandpa or my grandmother from my mother side. They're villians after all.

I seen my mother's family members in Texas and some in California. We visit them sometimes whenever it's a holiday like Christmas or Thanksgiving. I've also seen my dad's family members other than his sister. He never told me why she not in my life. And tellsl me it best if I don't meet her.

Anyways, my mother's hair is natural black(or very very dark brown that looks black). Her hair was long and wavy in the first picture. Our hair same the same features. Our hair type can and it grows fast after a week or two. Her eyes were like mine, but her eyes colorare lavender and mines lilac.

Her skin is dark brown and it's very beautiful. I can't help but admire her. She also has some yellow sparkle across her face. They looked like stars. It's apart of one of her Quirks. Her eyes color and lavender.

She had four dark brown gazelle horns on her head and her gazelle ears were showing. Her body was well mature. I guess like mine though I never really care about my shape really. She has two of her horns wavy and the other two curly wrapping around the other white horns.

Her costume in the third was her in a long sleeve black crop top and black pants with gold medal plates around the rims of them. Her high combat boots were black. And finally she had a gold medal choker around her neck with the sun symbol in the middle of it.

(Considering her Quirks she doesn't really need a bold hero outfit.)

In the second picture her hair is long and was in a kinky fro she didn't show her horns. Despite her time being alive she was one of the top number ten heroes. I walked away from the picture to go eat.

"Leo! Nebula!" I watch the two come into the kitchen and go to their bowls. Turns out it was already filled. They just wanted me with them.

From what my Dad told me. He got them for my mom when it was her birthday. So the cats been in my life the moment they brought me home.

I keep thinking about the exam tomorrow. I wonder who I would see. Once I was done eating I decided to clean the house. I did every room but my dad's.

I decided to go down to the beach, because I don't want to stay in the house all day and game. I text my dad and inform him about my whereabouts.

I put 20 dollar into my phone case and put my phone in my pocket. And went near the door to put my shoes on.

Now that I'm here. I'm just going walk along the shore. Although it strange to be wearing this on a hot day. I honestly don't really care. I have my reasons.

I walk towards the beach and decided to walk along the shore. While doing that I saw Izuku jogging along the shore. Geeze he grown a lot. "Izuku!" I shouted. It doesn't seem like he can hear me so I tried calling out to him one more time. He didn't so I followed him.

I see him almost out of breath. "I finish what you asked." He said while breathing heavily. I look up to see he was talking to. I saw Uncle All Might, but I didn't say anything, because I didn't want to say about me being relate to my dad.

"Oh hey n-Ayama!" And that was a close call. "Wait?... Ayama!" Izuku shouts. "I been calling your name for the last minute." I spoke. I saw him blush a bit, but I ignore it. Not really sure why.

"Wait is it okay for her to see you like this?" He ask my uncle All Might. "Oh yeah. Before you I had told her about it, but she turned it down saying I should give to someone who doesn't have a quirk." He told him.

"Oh so that means you also know about 'The one for all' Right?" Izuku ask me. "That right, freckles." I giggled. "Freckles? BAHAHA!" Uncle All Might laugh blood coming out of his mouth.

Izuku was freaking out about it. I seen this before but I was just gross out. "Alright you can take a break. Oh by the way can you me a popsicle?" He asked me. "Sure."

"Come on Izuku! We have a lot of catching up to do." I shouted. He rush up to me as we went to the small market near the beach. Which lead you back to the roads and sidewalks.

We were talking about what the news were talking about. "I wish I could've been with you guys. Mostly to tell Katsuki to stop." I said with guilt.

"It's nothing to be guilty about." He said reassuring me. "To make it up to you can get what ever you want from the market just try not to go overboard." I said.

"Ayama you don't have to." He said waving his hands. "I insist." I tell him. "Your kindness never change a bit Ayama." He said. He right and that was a bad thing in middle school, but it not like it ever left me. I got myself a soda, Izuku got a chocolate mint ice cream bar, and I got uncle All Might a ice pop of himself.

"That would be 4 dollars, Ms." The cashier tells me. I paid her. She gave me my chain back. I thank her we both left walking back towards my uncle.

"So I'm guessing after today your finally getting your quirk."I said. He nodded while holding the bag in his hand.

"Oh I'd never asked you what are your quirk?" He asked me. "I have two of them, but their both complicated." I said. "Oh I see." He said. "Don't worry you'll get to see me in action at the exams." I cheer him up. Once we got the spot again.

"I want to be surprised that you're eating a popsicle of your self, but I'm not." I sighed. "It a hot day. I have every right." My uncle said. Leaving me and Izuku giggling and snickering. "Hey! What's so funny?!"

They went back to training and I decided to help uncle out with training. The fun part was Midoriya going on his back while doing push up. "I'm sorry Midoriya." I muttered. I spent almost the whole day with them. It was about 7:00pm

"Welp I better get going." I said. Me grabbing my soda bottle. "I'm guessing I'll see you at the exam?" I asked him. My uncle interrupt him "Oh yeah definitely!" I just sighed. "See you later Midoriya!" I shouted waving at them both.

I while walking towards my house I notice a teenager with ash blond hair that was spiky but looked soft. "I wonder if that could be... No. I doubt he would even remember me."

{Brain and Heart♡Melanie Martinez}

‘Help me when I'm at a loss for words. Bring up all of my memories for the please and the temporal.’ "There's that melody again."

'Well that was a fast walk.' Dad's Car was park in the driveway, so that meant he has came back. I open the door and then lock it behind me. I took my shoes off and left them at the door. "Lyric." My dad spoke. I jumped a bit. "Oh hey Dad." I said. "You seem lost in thought." He said.

"Oh yeah just a song came in my head. Although the melody was a bit strange." I spoke. "But who's know when I'll be using it." I shrugged my shoulders while walking towards the kitchen to go sit at the dinner table. It's was quite, but comfortable. I was just lost in my mind.

I got up from the dinner table and went towards the kitchen sink. That melody it sounded familiar, but I never heard it before.

I felt a hit on my hand. "Ouch, Dad!" I whined. "Next time, pay attention." He sighed. "What do you- Oh." I saw the dish I washing now broken in half.

"My bad." I mutter throwing it away in the trash. "Alright what was the lyric this time?" He ask. This isn't the first time this has happened. "Help me when I'm at a loss for words. Bring up all of my memories for the please and the temporal." I said.

"Don't give it too much though. If you go to sleep You'll have nothing to worry about." He said. He always does that. Brushes it off like it's nothing. "Alright, night Dad." I said.

"Good night and good luck tomorrow." He said. That right he won't be here when I wake up. I took a quick shower got into my PJs setting an alarm on my phone to wake up at 6:00am.

"I'm going to get a new bonnet. I can't stand this one. It's always falling off." I muttered.

The moment I closed my eyes. I saw someone with long wavy natural black hair and two gazelle brown horns and ears. I woke up and got out of bed and went straight downstairs to look at my mom's photos.

"I thought I told you to go to bed." My dad said. "Technically, you suggested it." I said. I'm still looking at my mother pictures.

"Bed. And I mean it." He said strictly. "Alright, alright." I said. Going straight to bed this time got it. I look at the clock it was 8:30pm.

"Just one question. Why do I have to go to bed this early?" [Ayama]

"Because you'll end up like me if you don't." [Aizawa]

~Wishlist~

~Luna Lyric~

~Universe navi~

#supanova

16 notes · View notes

mountphoenixrp · 3 years

Photo

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

Mitsuka Yamamoto, who is known by no other name, a 21 year old daughter of Tsukiyomi. She is a designer at For the Fairest and a hotline volunteer at Bohdisattva.

FC NAME/GROUP: Yu Jimin – Karina / aespa CHARACTER NAME: Mitsuka Yamamoto AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: April 11, 2000 PLACE OF BIRTH: Chiba City, Chiba Prefecture, Kanto region, Honshu, Japan OCCUPATION: designer at For the Fairest, hotline volunteer at Bohdisattva Counseling Center HEIGHT: 1.67m DEFINING FEATURES:

A beauty mark on the left side of her chin, under her lips’ left corner

Big, almond shape, sharp eyes; shiny long hair, lips with a rounded Cupid’s bow

PERSONALITY: Mitsuka is, first and foremost a sensitive, creature. She’s compassionate, empathetic, and openly affectionate to almost all living beings, probably except for cockroaches and rats. Most of the time, she’s the mom friend in the group who takes delight in taking care of others, showering them with compliments, and being there when the time is rough. Once she deems someone is worth her time and attention, she will be the ride-or-die type of companion, and they can rest assured that no force in the world could shake her commitment for them.

An artist at heart, Mitsuka is highly creative and self-motivated. She never hesitates to express her avant-garde ideas, also constantly encourages others to express themselves freely. While appearing to be wild and eccentric at times, she’s exceptionally good at reading people and is quick to set boundaries, mostly to protect herself from potential evil intents. She’s got the same protective energy around the people she cares for, for one of her worst nightmares is seeing others in pain or danger without being able to help them out.

This Japanese demigoddess does not like to be ordered around and will give intense responses both physically and mentally if forced. Not fonding of any sort of confrontations, she will avoid getting into arguments or any form of conflicts at all costs. If she is hurt, Mitsuka tends to withdraw and keep silent rather than directly verbalizing her feelings. In extreme cases, she will forget the person’s existence rather than waiting for any apologies. Having said that, when she’s forced to fight, she can be formidable.

HISTORY: TW: mention of death

“It’s the night of a full moon, when I met your father, under a wisteria tree.” Miyoung smiled gently as she looked at Mitsuka, her eldest daughter, who was sitting across from her with eyes wide open in doubt.

“But you said you met dad at an international conference?”

Miyoung shook her head, her tender smile was intact, although there was a louder command for her daughter’s attention implied in her voice. “We’re not talking about your elder brother’s dad, Mitsuka.”

To the twenty-one-year-old Mitsuka, nothing could hold a candle to Paris in summer, when the city’s beauty is at its peak, and life is just an ethereal painting of happiness. At first, it looked intimidating, how perfect everyone and everything in this city of lights, love, and fashion appeared to be. But at the end of the day, its glamourous culture and historical legacies are why she left Japan, despite her father’s deep disappointment and her mother’s great worries.

Being born and brought up in Chiba city, Mitsuka was a rather normal kid. Her family wasn’t the wealthiest in their neighborhood, but they had a two-story private house with a garage and a lovely garden in a high-security residential area, and it only took about half an hour driving to her father’s brewery located in Tokyo.

Her mother, Lee Miyoung, had traveled back and forth between Korea and Japan for her marketing business. She met Mr. Suda Yamamoto at a business conference, and he asked for her mother’s hand while she was in her third month of pregnancy, a year after his first wife’s death. Unlike most of her friends and their fathers, Mitsuka and hers had never truly got along. She didn’t remember receiving much affection or attention from him, partly because he was indeed busy all the time, and probably because she preferred to stay in her own world.

Makoto, her father’s only son from his first marriage, had always been the superstar in the family. Even though she couldn’t help but envying Makoto sometimes, she quite liked him because of his patience and kindness. Sadly, they couldn’t spend much time together, for Makoto’s study and extracurricular schedules were crazily hectic, and he usually looked exactly like their father whenever he came home after work, totally exhausted.

One night, Makoto stopped coming home. A drunk driver took his life away, when it was only one month before the national university entrance exam took place. For an eight-year-old girl, seeing her father bawling his eyes out next to her brother’s coffin was terrifying. It was also the only time she saw her father cried. After that, she rarely saw any signs of emotions on his face but occasional frowns.

Mitsuka’s adolescence was generally peaceful, except for throwing fists at some bullies at school from time to time, and constant confrontations with her father about her dream of being a fashion designer.

“He’s just afraid that you won’t be able to make a living with that job,” Miyoung explained to Mitsuka the reason behind her father’s vehement opposition to her wish, to which Mitsuka replied without a second of hesitation.

“He’s just afraid that no one will take care of his brewery,” she corrected her mother, for the first and only time in her whole eighteen years of life. “And designing is not just a job, it’s my passion, mom. It’s what I’m living for.”

Since her pre-teen years, Mitsuka had already learned to make clothes, starting from the clothing for Mini, her family’s cat. Her targets soon expanded to small accessories such as scarves and handkerchiefs for herself and her friends, and at the age of sixteen, she started her small business of making cosplay costumes and cosplay makeup for local clients. It was still a humble start compared to some other starlets in the industry, but fortunately, it was enough for her to win a scholarship to study fashion designing in Paris.

Due to her younger brother’s devastating case, her parents were adamant that she should never dream of going to Paris, or even out of the town without their permission. Mitsuka, for the only time in her life, told her parents a great lie, that she would be obedient enough to give up the scholarship, stay in Chiba, and try to get to the business major that her father wanted her to study. Meanwhile, she secretly packed her bags. Then, in one late evening, with the help of some of her close friends, she secretly fled to the airport and took her flight to Paris, leaving a long apologizing note to her parents.

The moment she landed in France’s capital, her phone blew up with texts and calls and voice mails from her parents, especially from her mother. The next thing she knew was her mother barged into her dormitory and almost flooded her room with tears and begs for her to come back.

After hours of comforting and persuading and finally threatening, Mitsuka managed to stay. However, from the moment she sent her mother off back to Japan, she couldn’t go through a day without picking up her mother’s calls or at least answering her messages, which turned out to be her best remedy to cope with the pressure of living alone in a big city whose language and culture she was so fascinated but still very much a stranger to.

Three years of hardship has proved to be fruitful. She earned the degree with flying colors and a thought-out plan for the next steps. Her mother, being the best mother on earth, took a long flight to have a cozy celebration dinner with her dear daughter. But besides celebrating her daughter’s graduation, Miyoung had another reason to pick a quiet, rather seclusive restaurant for them this time.

“I guess now is the best time to let you know the truth,” Miyoung looked into her daughter’s sparkling eyes, smiling a woman whose biggest secret is finally revealed. From that expression, Mitsuka dared to guess that whatever her mother was about to say, it was going to be ultimately important.

“Mitsuka, you’re not Suda Yamamoto’s biological daughter. Your father is Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto, the moon god, and that means you are a moon demigoddess.”

“...”

“Okay, I am… WHAT?!?”

---

[ So that’s why I’m here, in Mount Phoenix. ]

Mitsuka finishes her diary entry with a small drawing of a phoenix’s figure below the final sentence. As she reads the long pages again, Mitsuka still hardly believes what is written is true, that she’s a child of Tsukuyomi the moon god, and that said moon god is right here on the island, in a human vessel, probably isn’t aware of her existence at all. But again, she’s indeed allowed to access the island as a Japanese demigoddess, has just done cleaning up and decorating her apartment, and has got accepted to work at two jobs – one for her dream and one for her hobby. Things sound even better than the best life she’s dreamt of in Paris.

[ But we will see. ]

PANTHEON: Japanese CHILD OF: Tsukuyomi POWERS:

Lunar Solidification: She’s able to solidify moonlight into tangible items of her wish, from a hairpin to a sword. The quality and object lifetime is depended on how much energy and concentration she’s spent on creating them.

Lunar Empowerment: Her moods and physical health are influenced by the moon cycle, as she will be more lively and physically stronger when getting in contact with moonlight, and will be exceptional jovial, even hyperactive, during full moon periods.

Lunar Healing: She’s able to heal herself and others using the moon’s energy. She can only perform this power at full moon nights.

STRENGTHS:

She’s selfless and she has a penchant for spreading her love, attention, and care around, even to strangers and stray animals.

She can read people well, and often uses what she’s learned for self-protection and self-adjustment rather than attacking others.

A feisty lady, she knows what she wants and how to gets it, mostly in the most peaceful way possible.

She has a good aesthetic sense and a gift for visual arts, so she’s willing to help beautify almost everything around her, sometimes even without being asked.

WEAKNESSES:

She can get hurt quite easily if she deems her love and care are rejected. At such times, she tends to withdraw to her shell and sulk rather than communicating directly.

Her moods can and will change in a matter of seconds; she’s learning to control her emotions better

She tends to have emotional outbursts, or nervous breakdowns from time to time, especially during New moon periods.

It’s easy for her to feel lonely, and she intends to get attached to people, animals, places, or anything she likes quite fast

#kpop rp #krp #aespa #yu jimin #aespa karina #mp; welcome

5 notes · View notes

bnha-soulchild-au · 4 years

Text

By the age of ten Bukugo Katsuki is convinced he doesn't have any soul bonds. He’s seen the marks on his skin, but he doesn’t believe them for not even one fucking second.

Why should he anyway? It’s not like anyone out there cared even one bit about him.

Well one person might.

He shook his head fiercely, he needed to snap out of it. He didn’t want to think about him, with his wide green eyes and innocent smile. He was close enough to sparking up as it was, it was never a good idea to make it any worse with anger.

He had three marks, if his parents were to be believed. One was a simple black cat, taking a nap with its tail hanging over a ledge. That one was believable enough, simple, it could be anybody really.

The second was a black needle and a red thread, his mother told him that must be his mark for her, since she worked in the fashion industry. He hated that this one fit, that it worked. He hated the fact that he could possibly be bound to the hag by fate. He hated that it meant that every fucked up thing she did to him was justified in the eyes of fate.

He hated that it meant that he was supposed to be here, stewing in frustration and humiliation as the gloves slowly absorbed his sweat. He was quite literally a ticking time bomb, if he so much as moved too quickly his hands would be utterly scorched.

He hated the fact that it meant he somehow deserved it.

The only thing that made it better, was the fact that he had a green mark. It was a green key with two bunny-like ears, he could have laughed. Green marks didn’t exist.

Nobody out there had ever had a green mark, it was unheard of. It made him think that the whole thing was a hoax, an elaborate lie his parents told him to keep him in check. He might not have any soul marks for all he knew, not real ones anyway.

He was fine with that...

...and he was fine, all the way up until the end of his work study with Best Jeanist.

He hadn’t looked at the marks in years, he hadn’t thought about them in years, they were irrelevant, meaningless. Just shapes and colors, there was no meaning to them.

He hadn’t liked the man, he came off as a snob and was always telling him to play nice and smile for the people. It was all pointless showmanship, and by the end of his internship he hadn’t learned a single damn thing, much less been in a real fight.

He got more violence at home in a single night than he got this whole damn week, it was absolutely pathetic.

On the last day of his internship though, something happened. As Jeanist combed gently through his hair, Katsuki noticed something. It was barely visible in the shadow of his long sleeved denim costume, but it was a flash of red just showing in his vision as Jeanist worked from behind him. He had to wait until he got another glance as he repeated the motion, to fully comprehend what he was seeing. It was just on the inside of his wrist, a black explosion in the shape of a mushroom cloud, with a small red heart inside of it.

Katsuki felt a wake of chills hit him, almost instinctively he could tell that the mark was his. He didn’t know how he knew but he knew. That was his mark and Jeanist had it. Katsuki did his best to hide it, the internal crisis he was having as his whole world seemed to be knocked off kilter.

No.

Fucking.

Way.

It was all he could think about, he was running on autopilot, while his mind shut down entirely trying to process that the marks were real and he’d just felt what it was like to find a soul parent.

He couldn’t deny that they were real, not any more, and Katsuki was suddenly overwhelmed with multiple emotions at once, shame that he was bonded permanently to his wretched mother, fear about what the fucking hell a green mark might possibly mean, and some amount of shock that there was one right here, a soul parent.

He wondered dully why he’s never felt this sensation with either of his parents before.

Dragging him forcefully from his thoughts, Jeanist started to speak. “I know that you’re probably disappointed with how this week went. I know we didn’t see much action.”

The gears clicked in Katsuki’s mind after a moment of silence passed between them. He realized that he was expected to reply and gave a simple grunt. “Damn right I am….”. He couldn’t muster more venom than that though, not with his mind as it was. He needed to destroy something before it became too much, he could already feel the nitroglycerin coating his sweaty palms. His racing thoughts made him sweat and he needs to blow it up before it hurts someone.

Though, in this close proximity to Jeanist, the idea was pushed down. With the amount of nitroglycerin built up, all he’d do is either hurt Jeanist or startle him and neither of which was good.

“I do hope you understand why I had you do the exercises I did.” Jeanist prompted, clearly goading Katsuki for a better answer. There’s that condescending tone again, he could practically hear him tilt up his nose in disdain. How the actual hell could he be my soul parent?

“Of course, I fucking do! I’m not a dumbass.” He latched on to the anger, it was familiar, not like the utter confusion that had come with the discovery of the mark.

Jeanist hummed placatingly as he continued to comb through his hair, the damn guy was really into this shit. He was so intensely focused on it that he hadn’t looked anywhere else, it was probably the only thing that saved Katsuki’s sudden change in demeanor from being noticed. “Oh, then tell me. Why did I?”

Katsuki would literally rather be doing anything else, but no, here he was a grown-ass teenager, having his hair done like he was some girl’s doll. The answer he said tasted bitter in his mouth. Especially as he remembered the echo of his mother’s voice screaming similar sentiments just the other day.

“...everyone thinks I’m a villain, because of the way I reacted to being chained to the pedestal at the sports festival. “. Katsuki huffed, doing his best to keep the undesirable emotions from his voice, keying up the annoyance as a cover. It was still lingering just below the surface.

That was his fucking soul parent he was talking to, holy shit.

He violently pushed the desire to just ask the man about the mark on his wrist down. Get your shit together you were in the middle of a damn conversation.

“In order to be a hero, the public needs to trust me right, that’s your damn point, and people won’t trust someone like me?” Katsuki added, summing up the week's events in a single conversation. Tsunagu gave him an affectionate pat to the shoulder.

Why the hell is he so chummy, all I’ve done this week was cuss and yell at him? That wasn’t guilt he felt, he swore to god it wasn’t.

“I’m glad, I was convinced you didn’t listen to a single word I said this week. It seems like I was wrong.” Jeanist finished up his work and spun the chair around so Katsuki was facing him. The man was smiling warmly, the denim mask didn’t hide the way the creases at the corners of his eyes hinted at the smile.

“So what you’re saying is that I have to pretend to be someone I’m not, just to make people happy? That sounds like bullshit.” Katsuki found himself seriously considering what Jeanist was saying for the first time this week, and that was his honest assessment. This was bullshit, so long as he saved their sorry asses they should be grateful. He shouldn’t have to pretend to be nice about it.

Jeanist’s smile faded and he took a moment to consider Katsuki’s question. “Not necessarily, would you say that you are truly to the core a villain?”

Katsuki’s mind froze for a moment, visibly flinching. While Katsuki had hinted at the idea before he hadn’t expected the man in front of him to blatantly ask him about it. If he wasn’t such a mess at the moment, he would have heard the slightly playful tone to the man’s voice, indicating that he didn’t actually believe what he was insinuating. However, when he said those words, all Katsuki could see was his mother. The close connection between the two of them as his supposed soul parents brought to him the stunning realization that everyone believed it, that he was a villain at heart.

For a split second, he considered bolting off, because fuck this. This was too much bullshit and he couldn’t handle it all at once.

Jeanist noticed the change and his brow furrowed slightly in concern. Shit. Calm the fuck down, you asshole of a brain, shut the fuck up just until I can get the hell out of this place, until I can finish this conversation and have some space to breathe. The pro kneeled so that he was eye level to Katsuki, and shit, what the fuck was he supposed to say?

It shouldn’t be that hard of a question. He was going to UA for Christ’s sake, the best hero school in the nation. He was in a hero agency right the fuck now. He was talking to the 4th ranked pro hero in the nation. Why the fucking hell was this such a hard question? Of fucking course he was-

-he was a hero...

...wasn’t he?

All he could see was fucking Deku and his terrified face as he burned his notebook to ashes, as he told him to jump off the roof.

How the hell else was he supposed to deal with that damn nerd?

Especially when the quirkless moron was spouting shit about going to UA to take the entrance exam?

The fucking asshole was going to get himself killed!

What other ch-

“Katsuki?” Jeanist had a hand on his shoulder. The same hand that has that mark. He shook him gently, pulling him from his thoughts. The hero noticed the more focused look in Katsuki’s eyes and continued. “You are a hero, I know that. Sorry, that I didn’t make my intentions more clear.” His brow was still furrowed with concern. “You are a hero, and I may know that, because I know you. However, the person walking down the street only knows you from the media, and the way you act in front of them.” Jeanist sighed. “I only meant to say that you don’t have to pretend. I can see qualities any good hero needs within you, you just need to draw them out.”

He hated how good hearing that made him feel, he hated that his words had affected him so deeply the first time. Is this the soul bond, is there something unnatural making me feel so susceptible to what he’s saying?

Whatever it was Katsuki hated it. He hated caring what his opinion was, because his opinion was the only one he could guarantee was that of his soul parent.

….why was that still getting to him? So what, the hero had a fancy mark on his wrist? What’s the big deal? Does that suddenly make his opinion on Katsuki mean something?

Fucking

Hell

Jeanist decided to add one last statement to his lecture, while Katsuki processed his thoughts. “The only difference between a hero and a villain, is how they use their quirks. You can choose to be a good hero, and nobody can make that choice for you.” Jeanist paused, giving Katsuki time to say something but what the hell should he say. Should he agree? Should he argue? Should he stay quiet?

All he could see was Deku’s stupid face, and hear his mother’s voice telling him how horrible he was. What a horrible child to be bound to for eternity…

..horrible…

..rotten..

..brat…

...demon spawn

...the fucking devil incarnate…

“Katsuki.” The hero’s voice was softer this time, he placed his other hand on his opposite shoulder. God how pathetic must I look to make him wear that expression? The concern was still there, but the man was clearly trying to steady Katsuki. When had he started shaking? He was trembling like a leaf. What the fucking hell is wrong with me today? They were alone in the room, just the two of them. It was silent, except for the two of them. It was like they were wrapped up in their own little world, apart from the rest of reality.

Why is he acting so nice, why the actual hell is he being so nice?

Stuff like this doesn’t normally bother me. Why now?

Katsuki knew why, that mark had given validation to everything that his mother had done to him over the years. That was undeniable proof that the marks were real. That’s why, that’s why it meant so much more when he called him a villain, so much so that for a minute he actually believed him. Even if he hadn’t really said anything at all.

“Tell me what’s going on?” Jeanist gave his shoulders a comforting squeeze. Katsuki’s determination shattered a little at that. It was such an easy way out, stop fighting and let him take over, let him ask questions until he was satisfied. He took a shaky breath, why the hell was he out of breath?

I’m freaking the hell out because my soul parent is right in front of me and I’d convinced myself that they didn't exist. That’s why I’m freaking the fuck out.

He’s right here, just say something.

Say anything…..

“Please, talk to me.” There was no disdain, no hatred, annoyance, or fear. There was no frustration or anger, his voice was soft and reassuring. Jeanist gently shook his shoulders to accentuate the plea. His willpower that was keeping him stubbornly in place buckled, collapsing before him.

Katsuki spoke before he could think about what he’s saying.

“Your wrist, it has a mark on it. I think it’s mine.”

Fuck

Fuck my life.

Oh my fucking god you didn’t actually just say that aloud. Way to go, you couldn’t have been even just a bit more subtle.

Jeanist’s eyes widened as he looked instinctively to the mark just on his wrist, perfectly covered in most cases, except for the once that he hadn’t been paying attention. He looked back to Katsuki with a strange implacable expression.

They stared at each other, and Katsuki could feel his nerve wilting under Jeanist’s soft gaze. Katsuki really couldn’t remember the last person to look at him this way. He figured it must have been Auntie Inko, she was the only person that came to mind.

Without a word, Jeanist finally pulled his sleeve up to show the mark properly. The mark was just a bit larger than a nickel and on the center of his inner wrist, it was two colored, the black explosion contrasting sharp on the pale complexion of his skin that never saw the light of day.

Katsuki could feel it again, it was a faint sensation. It was like a realization, like it had been a long time coming. He had always held all the pieces, but he never knew what picture he was looking at. He stared at it wonder, feeling more than a little awestruck. He almost wanted to touch it but he suddenly and jarringly remembered how soaked his hands were. He quickly pointed his palms away and sparked off the excess nitroglycerin.

Jeanist blinked at the action but otherwise didn’t comment as Katsuki moved on to tug on his collar.

“I’m like 95-ish percent sure that’s my mark.” Katsuki hated how timid he sounded, the gruff gravel was still in his tone but it was softened by uncertainty, the sharp bite to his tone entirely absent. The embarrassment from speaking out was quickly fading in favor of itchy nervousness. “I’ve got a few marks and I’m sure one of them has got to be yours.”

Hearing the waver of his voice Jeanist quickly assured him “Only show me if you truly want to, please don’t feel obligated to.” Katsuki brushed the comment aside.

“It’s not like any of them are in uncomfortable places, there’s no reason not to.” Katsuki commented absently. “Plus, I'll drive myself insane if I don’t make sure.”

He pulled back his collar to reveal the first mark on his collarbone. It was the green key, and Katsuki showed it to the other hero who raised his eyebrows in surprise, but there was no recognition there.

“That’s a soulmark? I’ve never heard of one that color.” Jeanist asked in curiosity.

“I’m pretty sure it is? I have no fucking idea what green is supposed to mean though.” Katsuki commented as he moved on.

Katsuki covered that one up, and moved on to the one on his ankle. He shoved off his boot and rolled up his pant leg to reveal the black cat. Jeanist shook his head softly and Katsuki’s stomach dropped.

Was he really just imagining things?

Was it all in his head?

Did he just make an utter fool out of himself for nothing?

The only mark left was…

A thought occurred to Katsuki, it was a horrible thought. The only way to find out was to show him. Katsuki pulled up his shirt to reveal the last mark on his lower abdomen.

It was the needle and thread, the mark his mother swore was hers. It was the mark she had used to keep him prisoner with her. Many times it was the only reason he didn’t walk away, or tell someone about what it was like at home. It was his soul bond, it was dictated by fate. So why would anyone be able to stop it, even if they tried?

Even if he hadn’t truly believed in them, he hadn’t disbelieved in them either. It was enough to keep him still, with nowhere else to go.

Jeanist looked at the mark and somehow his posture softened further, and a wide grin erupted across his face. He could practically feel the radiating joy and comfort from the hero.

No, fucking way.

He couldn’t believe it, his mother was a horrible manipulative bitch on the best of days but this.

What she had said had done its job, it was intended to make him stay fucking put, to prevent him from questioning her and questioning freedom from her. That’s exactly what it fucking did.

How many times during his childhood did he walk right up to fucking Izuku’s house to tell him or to tell Auntie Inko? How many times did he turn around, figuring that they couldn’t possibly understand? That they wouldn’t do anything because he believed it was his fucking fate, that he fucking deserved every second of it.

He watched Jeanist looking at him like Deku used to look at him, before Katsuki had gotten his quirk. He was looking at him like he was the center of the damn universe and it was way too damn much to death with.

He couldn’t tell how he felt, he felt a little sick like he wanted to vomit as a cold pit of horror settled in his gut, and scream bloody fucking murder at his mother for screwing with his head like that. He really wanted to break out laughing, a little but hysterically because well fuck if her plan didn’t fucking backfire. He’d never trust her again after this, her or his father. If he could help it, he’d spend as little time there as he was able so he could get rid of them as soon as possible.

There was also a metric ton of relief flooded over him. He wasn’t bound to her for life, he didn’t have to listen to her spit those hateful things anymore, or at least he wouldn’t believe them. He just had to bear it a few more years and he could be rid of her, rid of the both of them, forever.

A small part of his mind quietly admitted to him that he was glad he could be different than she was, that he had a chance to be the hero he wanted to be. Not the villain she had convinced him he was.

More than that, most importantly, his real true soul parent believed that he could be a hero. The number four hero who was sitting right in front of him, looking at him like he was looking at the most important thing in the world, the hyper attention made him feel weak with insecurity.

They stared at each other just like that, neither knowing the gravity of the revelations that the other was sorting through. The moment passed quickly and Jeanist pulled him into an awkward hug considering he was still kneeling on the ground and Katsuki was still in the chair.

Katsuki could feel the gentle reverence in the hug, he could feel the simple and untainted affection in it. It was such a welcome and unfamiliar feeling that it made him sink into it, all past worries between them forgotten as they take comfort and pleasure in the simple and honest gesture.

It tore down the last of Katsuki’s composure, he let out a gasp and cried stubbornly into the embrace. He fought it the whole way through, every hiccup and sob was forced its way past the willpower holding it back. Jeanist rubbed gentle circles into his back for as long as he needed, whispering quietly to him.

They missed patrol that day, on the last day of his internship but Katsuki couldn’t bring himself to care.

79 notes · View notes

angelisverba · 5 years

Text

did you miss me, angel?

in which y/n knows there’s something wrong with Harry, but it feels too good to care.

pairing: y/n and vampire!harry

word count: 13k+

warnings: mentions of smut, slight angst

note: this is the first time i post my writing on tumblr so please go easy on me :) also, this is unedited and a little but rushed .... but i hope you enjoy it!

It started with the unusually sharp canines

But they were just teeth, and on that night, y/n wasn’t looking for teeth.

Hell, she wasn’t looking for anything on that Halloween night when she walked into that diner with a flickering light, dressed in that angel costume. All she wanted was a strawberry milkshake after the disastrous night at a haunted house she’d spent with ‘friends’.

Those same friends who drenched her get up in ice cold water, making the fuzz of her halo compress and her white leotard stick rigidly against her tummy. With the help of her tears, her glittery pink eyeshadow has spread all over her cheeks and nose, making it seem like she had a constant blush going.

And her hair? Oh, her hair was the only thing that had stayed intact. Shirley Temple’s synthetic blonde curls that bounced with every step she took, and jiggled sadly when the waitress asked her if she was alone.

“And what can I get for you tonight honey?” asked that same waitress, pen poised uselessly on her notepad because all y/n wanted that night was:

“One strawberry milkshake,” and she added a pathetic little ‘please’ quietly.

Y/n waited with her head down, fingers picking at her cuticles, or at the tattered red leather seat. She didn’t look up when heeled boots and a long coat walked past her because how could she? How could she look up when her eyes were clouded with tears, and when they spilled out they no doubt worsened her appearance. God, she was so embarrassed and that only made her more upset. She was so stupid to have gone along. She should have stayed in to studying for her math exam like she was planning to when Alex and his stupidly cute crooked smile asked her if she wanted to tag along with him and his friends. Why did she think she was ever going to end up with a boy like him? Pull it together, y/n. Quit crying.

Still, she didn’t look up. She hung her head like a dying flower. In that diner, with the lightbulb that wouldn’t stop flickering, and the refrigerator that buzzed a little too loudly. In that diner, with the chairs by the counter that squeaked with every move, and tables that were sticky with maple syrup no matter how many times they were wiped down, y/n was still the brightest thing there. Still so terribly sad, so sad that she sobbed, and her curls moved with every jolt of her shoulders, but still so terribly bright.

Because her tutu had sparkles in it, and her little white dorothy shoes were the purest shade of white there could ever be. And because her eyeshadow had glitter in it and now it was all over her face. Her face that glistened pink with glitter and tears. Truly a sight to see, when that same heart shaped face lifted to drink from the strawberry milkshake that had been set down in front of her by the waitress looked at her with pity when she’d said she was alone.

Truly a sight to see, when that same girl with lips puffy from nibbling at them in order to keep her sadness in, wrapped those same lips around the red and white paper straw, and hallowed her pink cheeks because the shake was thick and it was taking a lot from her to even get a sip.

A sight to see when this girl made the mistake of looking up, after she had spent all that time looking down, and connecting eyes with the most handsome stranger she had ever seen, sitting three booths down from her. Connected eyes while her cheeks were hallowed and oh so pink, eyes red, and puffy red lips.

Truly, a sight to see because her eyes widened, and she sputtered out the little she had managed to get out of that ridiculously skinny straw, so that it was smeared all over her bottom lip. She scrambled to get a napkin, to stick her little fingers in the napkin dispenser, only too find it completely empty because what little had been inside it was spread and crumpled all over the table. She plopped down into her seat with a huff, and brought those same fingers up to her lips, and scooped up the mess in the space between her lower lip and chin while thinking about the man she had just seen.

He’d looked straight into her eyes when she glanced up. And even though y/n was seated three booths away from him, his emerald green eyes hypnotized her like he was a snake charmer, and she a hopeless cobra. The man, and a man clearly from the rugged stubble on his chin and upper lip, held a newspaper in his hands, his face tilted down towards it, but eyes locked on hers before she had even seen him. A stray piece of hair dangled between his eyes victoriously, having managed to escape from the rest of his loustorus chocolate curls. His sharp jaw clenched, and y/n saw a muscle flex in the small moment she had observed him.

He’s mad, she thought, I’m disturbing him. And she knew this because his eyebrows were pulled tightly together, his own pink lips tipped downwards, and his broad shoulders heaved up and down slowly, like he was trying to control himself.

Y/n instantly blamed it on her obnoxious drinking. She’d been making noise right? And he’s clearly trying to read his newspaper. Here you go again y/n! This is why Alex and his friends fucki-

“Y/n? Is that you?”

Y/n’s back instantly straightened ,and her eyes to widen. She feels her heart starts to pound, and her palms start to sweat, and holy shit why is Alex here?

“I thought this is where you had run off to.” He slides into the seat opposite her, blocking her panicked stare with the stranger three booths away, who’s jaw only clenched harder when her eyes connected with his again.

“Go a-away, Alex.” Y/n stammered, her throat knotting and eyes welling.

“Oh, come on, y/n.” Alex flashed her a crooked smile, but it was no longer cute to her and all she wanted to do was punch him in the face. “The guys are waiting outside, let’s go.” Then, Alex got up, and grabbed her tiny wrist in his hand, and tried to pull her up. Y/n yelped and attempted to pull her hand back.

“Let me go, Alex! I’m not going back with you.”

“Quit being fooli-” Alex only pulled her harder, and spoke through gritted teeth, no longer caring about whether he hurt her or not. He tugged her so hard, y/n’s body ended up on the checkered floor, full-on crying at that point, sprawled on all three’s because her wrist was in Alex’s grasp. “I believe the lady said to let her go.” rumbled a deep, sultry voice. And Alex did let her go, not willingly, but because he ended up on the floor next to her, nose bleeding.

“Excuse me!” The waitress that asked y/n if she was alone, yelled at them angrily for causing havoc during her shift. “Take this outside or I’ll call the-” She had the phone raised threateningly but,

“No need, Brenda. This man was just leaving.” And y/n looked up to find the source of the voice, once again locking eyes with the handsome stranger who sat three booths away from her. He was looking at her with so much intensity, she didn’t see Alex leave.

He didn’t outstretch a hand to help her up.

No, he picked her up from her position on the floor, and sat her back on the booth.

Once again, y/n found herself looking down at her lap, this time cradling her left wrist because it was already swelling from the impact it had taken upon bracing her weight against the floor. Her translucent white leggings were torn on her knees, and dirty on her shins. A straw wrapper was stuck to her ankle.

“Are you going to drink your milkshake, little angel?” said the same voice, this time almost crooning at her in the same british accent that had kicked Alex out of the diner. Slowly, y/n listed her gaze, moving from her hands, to the edge to the table, to the bottom of the milkshake glass, and traveling from the hands that were clasped together, to the silver cross on a chain around his neck, to his lips, and finally… to his eyes.

Eyes that looked at y/n with such gentleness, she could almost feel the caress against her skin.

“I asked you a question, darlin’” he rasped, leaning on his elbows and coming closer to y/n, wraps her arms around herself and ducks her head again. “‘Is not nice to ignore a person they way your doin’” he said, his burning gaze warming y/n’s blushing cheeks.

“No,” she mutters, choking on her words and feeling a burning behind her eyes. She was going to cry again. She had no reason to cry, yet to her, it seemed like she had every reason to. She was alone at a shitty diner, her craving for a milkshake gone sour and her wrist hurt like a motherfucker.

“What was that?” the man says.

“I said,” y/n’s voice cracks, and what little reserve she had left come crashing down. “I d-don’t w-want it a-anym-m-ore.” She’s hiccupping on every word, and her tears are trickling streams down her cheeks.

“Alright, no more cryin’, angel.” His hand twitches, like he wants to reach out and hold her, but something’s holding him back. “You’ve been cryin’ since I got here. What’s got you so upset?”

Y/n looked up again because his voice is just so soft and smooth it reminds her of a rich cup of hot chocolate on a rainy day, and she saw his hand twitch. She has his hand twitch and even though he was a stranger, she still wanted to be comforted.

She looks up with wide teary eyes, and the man in front of her gives her a smallest of smiles. So small, it almost appeared to be a wince, like he didn’t know how to curve his lips up in that gesture.

And that’s when she sees them.

Two small, pointy white teeth. But she blew it off because even her own were slightly sharp, and because that smile stopped her heart. This man, that had sat in front of her, was intimidating, serious, and she didn’t know him. But at the same time, he took her breath away because he was simply ethereal. From his attire, to fine to a diner, all the way down to his perfectly placed mole on the right corner of his mouth.

“I don’t even know you.” She says, her voice small and head tilting sideways, a curl swaying between her eyes like his stray curl.

“‘M name ‘s Harry.” Harry leans back, resting his arms on the booth behind him. His coat opens up, and y/n can see that the red shirt he was wearing was hardly buttoned up, and the cross necklace he was wearing rested teasingly between the divot of his strong pectoral muscles. “Wa’s yours, angel?” He said to her, his voice as close to a cat’s purr as it could be, and it made y/n visibly shiver. This made him smirk wide, one corner of his lips pulling up higher than the other.

He knew exactly what he was doing, and y/n knew that he knew exactly what he was doing. And frankly, this may have excited her just a bit. Only because the boys she had been with earlier that night were pieces of shit that didn’t know what they were doing, and while this man could be a serial killer, y/n was far too physically and emotionally exhausted to care about the rules.

“Y/n.” She sniffled, her tears slowing down but her heartbeat accelerating.

“Well, y/n, I’m all ears if you would like to talk about what made you cry.” With a long, slender, finger, he pushes the nearly untouched milkshake towards her, and y/n reaches out with shaking hands to take a harsh slurp while avoiding Harry’s pressing green eyes at all costs.

And so she did.

She told him about Alex, and the way he had seemed so sinceres, and how she thought that for once a boy was actually into her. How it all went town hill, and how they drenched her completely in ice cold water. How she walked in the cold that dried her all up, and ended up in this diner.

Somehow that turned into a nightlong conversation of anything and everything. Y/n got to hear this stranger laugh once, and it was truly the most beautiful thing she had seen and heard in her entire life. His laugh sounded like suppressed sunshine. Like it didn’t get to be heard so often. The corner of his eyes crinkled lightly, and his eyelids closed together like half-crescent moons. He belted, opening his lips wide enough that y/n could practically read the ‘ha 's off his lips. And his teeth, slightly crooked white teeth; his two front ones noticeably larger than the others, like a bunny’s. Also like a bunny, his nose that twitch each time he tried to suppress his smile.

Eventually 3am came around, and Harry stood abruptly, saying that he had to leave and a quick ‘it was nice talking to you’ in the middle of y/n telling the story about how she bypassed 10th grade english by comparing everything to current world events.

Y/n sat there, stunned, embarrassed, and slightly angered. She asked for the check after a few minutes of basking in his rejection, only to be told by the waitress asked if she had come in alone,

“The gentleman already paid for it, honey.”

Then it was his skin.

Exactly three weeks later, y/n found herself napping in a ring of hazy bliss. After an exhausting five hour expedition, y/n made it to the clearing all the way at the top.

She’d been a usual at the riverbed hike for two years now, and one of the rangers who worked at the reserve had told her about the meadow with glowing blue flowers. He’d even given her a map and a list of animals and insects to watch out for.

So, she’d made a day out of it. Made sure she was up to date with the material she needed to know for her classes, and told her roommate where she’d be and to please not have sex on her bed. All she had taken with her when she departed at 6 am that day, was a thick sleeping bag, a net long enough to encase her whole body, and a basket of food. The rager told her there weren’t any bears in the area, all other animals went in their holes for the night, and the ones she needed to watch for weren’t native to the area.

She was careful on her climb. Not to brush against poison ivy, or poke against any sharp looking twigs. Her footing was sure, and her energy ready to be depleted. In the end, her passage through the steep and shady trails amongst the trees had been worth it, because at the top, was the most beautiful field of budding flowers.

The clearing occupied the entire tip of the hill, so the only thing there was to see was the sky and the trees around the open, grassy fields filled with flowers that looked like closed blue poppies. There was a single, massive willow tree, right dead center of the plane, with leaves that hung like long sleeves that kissed and teased at the ground. Underneath this tree, y/n set up her small campsite. She laid out a thin sheet, and on top of that her pink sleeping bag.

Completely, and utterly salivating from how hungry she was, y/n sat in a spot that wasn’t largely populated by flowers, and set the net around her so she wouldn’t have to worry about swatting flies away from her food. The net was almost tent like, so she didn’t have to worry about ants either because she would be completely encapsulated by the material.

She pulled out her phone to quickly check the time, because it was really useless for anything else, with there being no signal and all. 11:55 am, reads the clock. She tossed it to the side, and began to take the items out of her basket. Crackers, cheese in the shape of a circle coated in wax, apple slices, pasta, and pre-opened bottle of champagne that had collected moisture on the outside of the green glass. Y/n had taken advantage of this break, and packed a meal she’d always wanted to eat in a place like this. Her cheese and champagne hadn’t gone bad because she had packed it in a separate compartment that had a cooling lining.

She ate her pasta, a recipe that she perfected her last year of high school with the help of the culinary arts teacher at her school, and sipped on her champagne. Sweet bubbly tones of pink alcohol rested on her tongue for a moment, before flowing enticingly down her throat. This was chased by the apple slices, and tiny chunks of creamy cheese.

In that moment, she was in heaven. The sun shined on her face, dancing on her nose, and kissing the space between her eyelashes. Her fingers traced the petals of the flowers next to her, feeling the cool, waxy feel of the leaves that hadn’t yet blossomed. There, amongst the wild green grass and in the middle of her third glass of bubbly, she laid in her little net tent and fell asleep with a sweet taste on her tongue.

For hours she dreamed of green irises and teasing pink lips in the afternoon sun, her plans for reading the tattered romance novel she picked up at the used bookstore completely vanished. In her sleep, she was unaware of the bunnies that came and sniffed at her little cocoon. They stood on their hind legs, and placed their pink paws on the net, barely making a dent as their little noses twitched eagerly and their ears perked on full alert.

In her sleep, she laid unaware that the handsome stranger who had sat three booths away from her, lurked in the trees and watched her chest rise and fall peacefully.

His white shirt was once again, barely even buttoned and tucked in to his brown trousers. His hair was tousled, and that damned lock of hair kept getting between his eyes while he tried to watch this angel sleep.

A creep, he thought to himself. I’m a creep. Leave, Harry. You have absolutely no business here.

Oh but I do, crooned the devil on his left shoulder. Just look at her. So pure. So innocent. And she looks so fucking pretty, and all I want to do is move that piece of hair away from her luscious lips so it doesn’t flutter this way and that everytime she breathes out.

Harry wanted to hold her every time her breathing hitched, and fucking shit he didn’t know why because he didn’t even know the girl.

He needs to leave. Before it’s too late and before she yells bloody murder when she find out what he really is, because that’ll really break his-

“Harry?” she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and blinked more than she needed to because holy shit, what is he doing here. “Is that you, Harry?” Y/n frantically pulled down the zipper of her net, and scrambled out to search through the trees across the clearing because she really thought she’d seen Harry.

And she was right. It was Harry.

Harry who stood clad in a white shirt and fitted black pants, leaned against one of the trees.

He looks better than last time, she thought to herself. Hadn’t he heard her? There was no other noises that the chirping of birds and she’d spoken loud and clear. Was it the champagne playing out her wildest dreams?

No, no it had to be him because he moved, and walked towards her swiftly. Y/n was frozen in place by his dominance. He held himself tall and proud, his shoulders and legs moving a way that said ‘do not get in my way’.

But he stopped in his tracks right before the fading orange light of the sunset hit his skin. He looked down at his shoes, the tip of his red pointed loafers gleaming in the sunlight.

She watched him as he shook his head at himself ludicrously, and stepped with confidence out into the sun.

What she saw made her gasp.

His skin. He’s an angel. He’s an angel and I’m dead. Because only angels glow like that. Harry’s skin looked like millions of diamonds were penetrated into every pore of his skin. A hazy, white light exuded off of him, making him look like a god in a renaissance portrait.

“Harry, you’re glowing!” She gasped, eyes and jaw wide open.

Harry threw his head back and laughed at her, the skin of his neck glimmering invitingly. “Angel, how much did you have to drink?” His lips curved upwards, exposing his sharp teeth, and with gleaming skin… no.

Y/n looked at the basket inside the tent, the champagne bottle tipped to its side, next to where her head rested. Empty. She drank the entire bottle? No..no,no she swore there was still more than half left when she fell asleep.

“I-I don’t even remember…” she trailed off, completely lost in thought.

“Enough to black out huh?” He stood right in front of her, and y/n can’t catch her breath because Harry’s glowing and she doesn’t remember drinking an entire bottle of champagne. She looked up at him, and her nose nearly touched his lips. “So, what are you doing up here all by yourself?”

Y/n’s ears started to ring in that moment, and maybe it was the fact that Harry’s a beautiful creature standing oh so very close to her, or she was too high up and had too much to drink, but everything went black and her body sloped to the ground.

She had no idea how long she was out, or how she got back into her little tent, and this time Harry was lying next to her. And he was staring at her. He was on his side, chin resting on his palm, eyes searching hers the moment she woke. His profile was illuminated by a bright blue light. Was he glowing blue now? Holy shit, Harry glowed.

“‘Sabout time you wake up,” he rasped. “You’re gonna miss the blooming flowers.”

Y/n got up from her position on the floor, amazed because her head didn’t hurt and she wasn’t sore anywhere. That must have meant that harry caught her when she fell, and carried her into her tent and then laid beside her because she was 100% sure she was nowhere near the tent when she fainted.

What is going on?, she thought to herself. Why is this man, who abruptly left her in a diner, here, at a place that really hard to get to and also extremely off the radar. And why was he beckoning her out of the tent with his eyes, that looked as mad as the day she met him? Had she done something wrong again? Did she snore while she was unconscious? This was supposed to be a time for her to relax and get away from all her problems. Now, here she was, with one of her problems standing right in front of her.

“C’mon now, love. “ Harry’s bends down to the entrance of the tent, where y/n is sitting looking confused and he’s looking passive. He holds his hand out to her, and to his slight surprise, and hers too, she takes it and lets him lead her out of the net.

“Harry, what are you doing here?” Y/n questioned him.

“Was just taking a stroll around the area,” He says, his eyebrows forever drawn over his eyes, and lips slightly pursed.

Around the area? It took y/n 5 hours to get here, and she’d seen no one else around taking a ‘stroll’.

She was just about to ask him rapid fire questions about why he was following her, and who was he and what did he want and why did he leave that day at the diner, but he placed his forefinger and thumb on either side of her chin, and directed her face to the blue light.

Just like the ranger had said, all the flowers were blooming underneath the moonlight. Different shades of blue, magenta, and purple surrounded them both; buzzing to life with a soft hum. Lightning bugs traveled from flower to flower, feasting on the luminescent petals. Roots in the ground radiated through the dirt, connecting like streets in a city. They all flowed in the same direction, leading up to the willow tree, whos leaves lit up like led light strips.

Y/n had never seen anything like it before. She was sure that it wasn’t real.

“Oh, but it is.” Harry whispered in her ear, his stubble tickling her cheek. When had he gotten so close? Did she speak her thoughts without realizing it? As quick as he’d gotten close to her, Harry distanced himself, and walked back to the tent, to grab the few apple slices she’d left on her plate. Y/n watched him pick up the now-brown fruit, and as he offered them to her with a stony expression. “Here, you must be really hungry.”

“I-I don’t want it.” She was caving in on herself, scared. Because she realized that up here in this serene atmosphere where there was no one else but him and her, anything could happen and no one would know. And she didn’t believe him one bit, that he’d been up here on a stroll.

Harry must have sensed this, because he sighed in defeat and said “Have you got a bone to pick with me, darling?” He rearranges his stance, spreading his legs shoulder width apart, and folded his arms across his chest in a way that made his biceps bulge against the white longsleeve he was wearing. “‘Cause the look you’re giving me is awfully mean.” He stepped closer to her. Closer and closer until y/n had to crane her neck to look him in the eyes. Wisps of his chestnut hair tickled the bridge of her nose, the collar of his shirt brushing against the skin of her neck, making goosebumps prickle and the hairs of her neck stick straight upwards.

Truth was, y/n didn’t have a single mean bone in her body. And the ‘look’ she was giving was anything but mean, no, if anything Harry was the one with the fierce look. She was cowering, intimidated, afraid. This could go a million and one ways, and all the ones y/n was thinking about weren’t happily ever after‘s.

“N-no,” the poor girl was shaking, like the thinnest leaf amidst a tornado. “I-”

“What is it?” Harry smirks, reveling in the power he had over her. “Cat got your tongue?” Their tension was thick, the blooming flowers already forgotten. All she could think about was how similar their position would look to the couple on the cover of her romance novel, if only he would put his arm around her waist, and lips on her throat. She thought about the way his lips were close to hers she could feel their warmth. The way his eyes were boring into hers with such intensity, asserting the fact that he’s the one in charge. The one in the highest position, and she could try her best to overthrow him but she would always be vulnerable. With his eyes, he laid her bare, reading her all the way down to the tips of her toes.

This?

This frustrated her. So much so that she stomped like a child who had been denied dessert as their meal, and stormed back to her sleeping bag underneath the canopy of the glowing weeping willow. It wasn’t until she got to her spot by the large roots and heard the leaves rustling as their indication that someone else had gone through them, that she realized what she did was stupid and childish and Harry could easily follow her.

“Angel,” Harry’s voice is much softer now, his arrogant tone completely gone and replaced with a worried one. “What is it?”

“I don’t know!” Tears began to well in y/n’s eyes, because she really didn’t know. She didn’t know of the uneasiness of her stomach had to do with nervousness of what could happen in a place like this, where no one would be able to hear her scream for miles if it ever did come to that, or if it had to do with this- this feeling she felt every time she thought about him, about their moment at the dinner. “I don’t know what it is and that’s what makes me upset.”

She didn’t. She was a jumble of tingles and stomach drops because Harry was confusing her so much in that moment and oh god she can’t breathe. Her chest was moving up and down, going through the motions, but she wasn’t getting any relief; like her throat was a punctured straw and what she needed was escaping through that hole before if reached her pulmonary system. Puffs of air were coming out of her open mouth, her shoulders haunching, and her hand coming to rest on her chest before she dropped to the floor on all fours, Harry immediately appeared next to her side. He placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing them back so her back would straighten out, and pulled her from the waist so she would sit on her butt.

“Breath with me, y/n.” Harry wrapped his hands around her waist, making it so her chest was flush with his front. “Listen to me, feel my breathing, okay? Match my breathing now, darling.” But it didn’t work. The only thing his proximity did was alter her senses even more; make her heart palpitate at the higher than higher rate it should’ve been. Black began to spider out from the corners of her eyes, fading in on her vision, disabling yet another one of her senses because her ears had been ringing and she could hardly hear what Harry was saying.

And this is another thing. Y/n didn’t know what to call it in that moment, but it blew her mind.

“Close your eyes,” He whispered into her ear. “Listen to the waves,” And they weren’t anywhere near any waves, but when y/n closed her eyes, instead of being met with the black and blue dots behind her eyelids, she saw the most beautiful beach. White sand, as soft as the tufts of hair on the cat she stopped to pet on the street that one time. Silky and smooth between her toes and against the bottoms of her feet. The sky was the color of a peach; a mix of oranges and light pinks with dark red sat the edges, clouds the texture of the fuzz on the fruit’s skin. Water, the clearest baby blue she’d ever seen, transforming into white of the sea foam tips of the waves.

Y/n could hear the waves. A soft whisper of shh-ahh and trickling of water retracting from shore. The bubbling fizzles of sea foam melting into the creamy sand. She wanted to run through it, to feel it sloshing against her skin, but… something was holding her back. A grip around her waist that didn’t budge the first two times she tried to go to the calling shore. The third time, she struggled against the bond, she was let go and met with a bit of a trip from the power she had used pushing against the force. She picked herself up, and bounded towards the calm waters.

She stood alone, getting closer and closer to the water and letting it touch the tips of her toes, expecting to feel the cool yet scratchy graze of the salt water mixture, but instead she feels... grass?

No, this can’t be, she thinks to herself. Y/n even bends down to touch the water, she’s watching it touch her fingers but she could not feel a thing.

Why couldn’t she feel anything? It was like eating with a burnt tongue, you put food in your mouth but didn’t taste anything.

“What the hell?” she said to herself, standing up straight to asses the situation as best as she could.

“It’s not real,” grumbled a familiar deep British voice. To her left, was Harry. “Come back to me, now, y/n.” His curls were floating in the chilly breeze, wisping and warping around his face, his open shirt moving the same way the waves were.

Y/n closed her eyes again, breathing deeply, not understanding what he was saying and ready to argue, but when she opened her eyes, she was back under the canopy of the weeping willow, illuminated by the glow of the flowers behind the curtain and the fluorescent stems of the hanging leaves. Harry standing no more than five feet away from her, leaning against the wide tree trunk next to here, where she stood on a patch of mossy grass.

“You’re a real doozy when you’re tipsy y’know tha’?” He’s picking at his lips with his ring-clad fingers, pulling at his bottom one and letting it pop back into place. “Y’alright now?” Not unlike the first time they met, he asked her what happened because ‘darlin’ it looked like you were seeing’ something tha’ wasn't there’. And y/n, blinking out of her little day-dream (though it was hardly day-time) said, “I could’ve sworn you were telling me to ‘Listen to the waves’” She dropped her voice down a few octaves, and dragged her tongue to mimic his british rasp, “and when I opened my eyes, I was at the beach.” Harry gave out a low ‘huh’ upon watching her blearily slump against the trunk of the willow while she explained that she envisioned.

“No darling,” He assured. “I got you to calm your breathing down, then you practically yanked y’self out of m’grip. Then you walked o’va to that patch o’grass r’there, and gent down to touch it.” Harry shrugged carelessly, and crouched down in front of her, watching her through hooded eyes as she stared off into space again, in complete disbelief at what had just happened because first she could’ve sworn Harry was glowing, and now this?

“Was’ this?” Harry grinned provocatively, holding the romance novel in his hand, waving it in y/n’s face and successfully managing to snap her out of her reverie. “Didn’t spot you for the clinch novel type. Thought these w’just fa’ women in th’middle of crisis.”

“Hey, give me that!” Y/n scrambled up from her spot, and launched herself at Harry who was still crouched and didn’t have much balance. When the girl reached for the novel, he pulled back from her grasp, causing her to place her hand on his bare, cold chest, and he to fall backwards, in turn causing her to fall with him.

Y/n somehow ended up straddling him, her chest heaving as she saw where her hand was. On. His. Bare. Chest. The other in between his head and the hand that held the book. Her focus was no longer the book, but how smooth and hard Harry’s skin felt underneath the part of her hand that wasn’t touching the silk shirt. Peeking just barely from the buttoned part of his shirt was a patch of inked skin that gleamed at y/n enticingly. Almost instantly, she had to suppress the urge to pull his shirt down to see the rest of the tattoo.

Ever so slowly, she trailed her eyes from his chest, to his inviting neck, and then to his lips. Pink lips slightly parted, realising short puffs of air that matched her own. She saw the sharp incisors that caught her attention at the diner; teeth as white as milk, and sharp enough that y/n thought they could puncture skin.

Then y/n’s eyes slitted from his lips, to his eyes, that bore themselves into hers. The usually emerald green irises were now a stormy dark green, the color of the forest on a cloudy day.

“I think,” Harry rasps, his hot breath hitting y/n’s lips like vapor from a hot cup of tea. “He looks a bit like me.” His wrists waves the book slightly, and she drags her eyes from him to the cover photo. The rogue, holding the maiden, wore an outfit exactly like Harry’s in that moment, had the same jawline that clenched when it saw her cry that day at the diner. Lips heart shaped and pink like taffy. Muscles that bulged but not as dramatically as most men on the cover of these novels. A curly head of brown hair that flowed freely in the wind of the pirate ship.

�� And vibrant green eyes that were slightly hooded as he teasingly traced those taffy lips on the woman’s neck, who, judging by the look on her face, was clearly enjoying it.

“Did y’choose this one because y’missed me, angel?” Harry teased, smirking deviously at her rapidly reddening cheeks.

“N-no I didnt.” She tried to push herself off of him, but Harry was quick to drop the book and use that hand to wrap it around her waist, and pull her back down with enough force to knock all the way down. So her chest was tight against his, her stomach against his own, and she could feel the muscles rippling as he pushed himself up with his free hand.

“S’not nice to lie, darling.” Y/n wasn’t sure if Harry could hear how her heart sped up every time he called her ‘darling’ or ‘angel’. Or if he could feel the butterflies fluttering madly in her ribcage, fueled by those pet names. “Tell,” He brought his face closer to hers, “me,” Closer, so the tips of their noses were touching. “The truth.” His eyes locked on hers, searching for an answer, for approval. “Did you miss me?” This time, it wasn’t just his breath that she felt fanning on her the span of her lips and chin, but she could smell mint on his tongue. Every movement that his lips made, she felt it, caressing against her own.

Y/n swallowed thickly, her hands grabbing fistfuls of Harry’s silk shirt, not caring if she wrinkled it or not because whatever happened next, whether he kissed or humiliated her, she needed to brace herself.

“Yes,” She breathed, “I missed you, Harry.”

And that’s all the answer Harry needs to press his lips against hers, both of them feeling as if stars are colliding as their lips did. Their lips brushed against each other softly, gently, like butterfly wings fluttering; coming just close enough that he could inhale the gusts of air that left her lips. Harry was reveling in how warm her lips felt against his; how sweet the remnants of champagne and apple and just her, tasted on his tongue. He couldn’t get enough of it. He needed more. More explosions, he needed the galaxy to combust and he wasn’t going to get that with the playful licks they were exchanging.

So he pressed harder against her mouth, mushing his against hers like he wanted to destroy them. She reciprocated his harshness, not caring about the scratches Harry’s stubble left on her skin, her hands moving to frame his face, loving the feel of his smooth, milky skin. Her tongue fought against his, tasting the mint and champagne? Subtle traces of champagne lingered on his tongue, his tongue that licked into her mouth like flames. The hand was wasn’t holding Harry up, grasped the back of y/n’s neck, as if to keep her from escaping.

Their dance went on for a few moments, until y/n needed oxygen. She pushed on Harry’s chest a few times because he just didn’t want to unlatch from her. When they both did separate, Harry’s eyes stayed closed until she spoke again.

“Did you miss me, Harry?” Y/n panted, searching Harry’s eyes, wondering why he still had that stony expression on his dreadfully handsome face. She hummed when Harry’s eyes opened, quirking an eyebrow up at him, giving him a sated puffy-lipped smile.

Harry smirked at her, “I missed you, little angel.” He fixed his grip on her waist, and lifted her so he could turn their positions. She, lying beneath him, and he, hovering above her. “Now give me another kiss.” And she did. She returned her hungry licks for hours, and eventually her lips went numb from often they were rubbing against Harry’s, and how cold it was getting.

“Harry,” she said amidst kisses, “it’s getting-” Harry groaned in protest as she separated herself from him, “cold. Let’s get in the sleeping bag.”

He quirked a brow at her this time, “You want t’get into bed w’me, dove?” Y/n’s stomach somersaulted at the name, a pink blush like the smeared pink eyeshadow, spreading on her cheeks.

“You’re a real scoundrel, you know that?” She tucked her head into the crook of his head bashfully. “M’cold.”

“Alright, lets go to my place then.” He sits up, with her on his lap. She slides down his torso and she becomes hyper aware of the fact that her crotch was against his.

“You’re place? Right now?” Y/n asked, trying not to let her emotions show through her tone in anyway.

“Yes.” He nods. “When I said I was taking a stroll, I wasn’ lying.”

So, Harry picked up her things with one arm, and held her close to him with the other. Though, she wasn’t getting any warmth from him, because he was cold to the touch as well. Y/n followed him through the now dimming flowers, and out into the trees where he had been watching her sleep. They made what seemed like random twists and turns, and at one point they climbed over a large oak tree that had fallen over. Harry grabbed y/n by the waist and helped her down while she suppressed a blush.

Covered in a ring of trees, was Harry’s house. A cozy little cottage with curved cedar shingles on the roofing and a red brick chimney. She definitely hadn’t expected a cobblestone trail leading up to a white-clapboard house shrouded with rose shrubs, and windows, windows everywhere. It was a small quaint place, with a white picket fence that was useless in the middle of the woods.

“Welcome to my home.” Harry opens the little gate proudly, sending y/n a cheeky wink.

“It’s very pretty,” she comments. She liked the little swinging bench on the porch. The hanging plants, and the red frame around his door. When Harry opens the door, a cinnamon smell wafts from the inside. Harry sets her stuff on the floor, stepping aside to let her come in. He flips on a switch next to the place where he hung keys and coats, and the inside lights up. A golden gas lamp illuminated the living room softly, splaying over the brown couch covered in fluffy throw blankets. Bookshelves in the place of where a TV would’ve hung, pots of flowers on lampstands, pieces of framed artwork on the walls.

“Wadda’ya think?” He said.

“I love it. It’s cozy, and it smells,” She inhales deeply, the scent of cinnamon and bread filling her lungs, “delicious.”

“It’s pie. Baked it this morning.” His hands disappear into the pockets of his black pants. And he adds, quietly, “Let’s get you to bed, and I’ll let you have some tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

“Okay,” y/n murmurs. Harry takes her by the hand, and leads her up the stairs and into the last room in the short hallway.

Harry doesn’t turn on the light this time, and let’s go of y/n’s hand to light a candle. He sets it on what she assumes is the bedside table, and in the dim light, she watched him remove his shirt, the silk material revealing his tattooed skin. There were too many to count, but enough to look at.

“S’not nice to stare.” Harry gave her the shirt she was wearing, standing cockily with the other hand on hooked on his belt loop. Even though y/n had been caught, she didn’t remove her wandering eyes, trailing consistently over the butterfly on Harry's very sturdy abdomen, so appealing, the few sparse hairs that grew coarser as they reached his zipper leaving her tongue nearly lolling out of her mouth.

With shaking fingers, she reaches out for the shirt, clenching the material in a tight fist like she had when she braced herself for Harry’s kiss.

“Thank you,” she mumbled shyly, awkwardly shifting her weight from one foot to another, waiting for him to take a hint and turn around.

“Want me to turn around?” She nods in response, biting her lip as she salivates at the way his back muscles flex with every slight movement. It takes her a moment to avert her eyes from his statue-like body, and discard her soft sweater and shorts for the silk shirt

Her skin feels like it was being bathed in cool water, the shirt moving freely, just like water.

“All done?” Harry’s voice bounces from the wall in front of him, to her burning ears. She was done, realizing that the shirt only just barely went past her butt, stopping mid thigh, and there were no buttons , except for the three going up to the valley of her breasts.

“Yes, all done.” She says, voice wavering nervously, because she hoped that… “do you have a spare room?”

“Baby,” There go her inhibitions, “you’re sleeping with me.” Harry cooed at her, his thumb coming to swipe gently on her cheek, and he kissed a soft spongy kiss on her nose.

“A-are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with me in your space or anything lik-” Y/n began to rant, her fingers swiping her hair behind her ears.

“Y/n, I thought you’re be comfortable sleeping with me,” he pouts, eyes looking into hers and his thumb still lightly rubbing the space underneath her lashes. “But if you want me to sleep on the couch, I’ll do that. You just have to sa-”

“Okay.” She interrupts, breaking eye contact with him and staring down at the floor, at his muscular legs that were still covered in black material. She yawns, gets into his bed, and because she no longer knew what morals were, she didn’t care that the shirt moved freely up to the curve of her back, giving Harry a clear view of her underwear covered bum.

There’s a distinct tearing sound, as Harry rushes to remove his pants and climb into bed with an astonished y/n. A primal look of hunger nests deep in his eyes, clawing out as he places his hands on y/n waist and sits her on his lap to continue what they’d paused in the field of glowing blossoms. He didn’t start off slow like before, instead pressing his mouth so hard against her pliant lips that their teeth bumped against each other and their noses rubbed against each other in a harsh Eskimo kiss. His hands knew little to no boundaries, coming to instinctively rest on the part of her thighs that came just before the back of her knees, pulling her impossibly close to him; so close in fact, that y/n could feel his erection pressing, rutting against her pulsing center. An action that elicited a mewl from her, and a feral groan from Harry. Underwear, was the only thing separating them; keeping Harry from finding closure to his erratic thrusting against y/n, who in return, returned an equally desperate friction against his cock. Grinding, to put it in words, so close to ecstasy because Harry knew that y/n felt that she couldn’t have sex with him yet but they had to do something despite the fact that she still had her doubts; she’d just met the guy and she was questoning her sanity as it is because she’s one step away from sex with a man who’s last name she didn’t know.

“That’s it, baby.” Harry grunted into her mouth, swallowing each and every moan that left her lips. Smacking lips, heavy breathing, and rustling sheets were the noises that bounced off the room.

“Harry, I-I’m,” Staccato ‘ah-ah’s left her busy lips, hips bucking at their own accord and her mind completely blank because the only thing she wanted was sweet release. Pink cotton panties completely soaked through, the scent of her arousal wafting and filling his nostrils and all he can smell her tangy aroma.

“I know baby. I know me-” BANG! BANG! BANG!

Three hard knocks on the door startled and separate them with a wet suckle, both of them turning to look with wide eyes at the opened door of Harry’s dark bedroom. Their hips were still unconsciously sliding against one another, y/n turning to dig her face deep in Harry’s neck because ‘Harry please I’m so close’. Begrudgingly, he turned to place her on her back, flat on the bed so he could see who in the world is at the door at this ungodly hour.

“I need to go see who’s at the door, darling.” He sponges kisses on her neck, his nose inhaling deeply in the soft juncture of her jaw, whining because he’s so fucking hard it hurts and she smelled like honey and roses and all things pure in the world.

Unwillingly, Harry leaves his (not so much anymore) little angel on the big bed, spread eagled with roses blooming on her cheeks, eyes blinking mawkishly because she was still twitching with not yet there ecstasy. Her lips swollen and shining with Harry’s spit, buzzing with sparkling electricity that she felt when he touched her; looked at her. She’d come to the conclusion that Harry’s character consisted of serious and salacious looks. And based on the awkward smiles he’d given her when they first met at the diner, he didn’t do it often, so she didn’t take it personally because he was being so cold with her. Actually, she was relishing the attention she received from him, the lingering touches, the flashes of something in his eyes. But there’s a factor of missing identity that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, it’s what held her back from pressing on the matter. Because she was scared of what could subjectively be a deal-breaking answer. She was on a never ending see-saw with herself, loving the feelings that ignited within her, and wondering what could be the missing puzzle piece to this man who she didn’t even know. Jesus Christ, what are you thinking? This man could be a-

“Zayn, I’m not going to ask you again, get the fuck out of my house!” Harry’s angered voice and travels from downstairs, all the way up to is room, where y/n jumps up into a sitting position and reaches to cover herself with a pillow because someone is bounding up the stairs, making them rattle and shake from the rapid pace, opposed to Harry’s and y/n calm walk.

“Oh, Harry…” taunted a second voice, this one jovial and not as deep as Harry’s, with a european accent, but more on the hippie side. “You know the rules man, if Cal-”

“Don’t you dare say his name!” Harry’s roaring at this point, completely enraged and then another set of stomps catched up the ones that were coming up the stairs. Y/n was listening to this interaction, and slowly inching closer and closer to the headboard with her knees pulled tight into her chest, toes the only thing peeking out from underneath the pillow she clutched.

“Let’s see whoo you’ve got-” “Walk AWAY, Zayn!”

“Pent up all alone-” Then a heavy thudding noise accompanied with a disgruntled ‘nugh’ and a distinct noise of a body rolling down the stairs. The second voice is silent, and Harry is breathing wetly, as if there were strings of saliva between his tongue and lips and drooling down his lips like a dog’s agitated maw. He murmurs a broke ‘fuck” and the steady rhythm of feet up the steps continues.

“Baby? Baby? Y/n,” Harry steps through the door, shoulders heaving up and down radically, nostrils flared, and just like she’d imagined, strands of spit connecting the side of his lips that were pulled back to reveal nearly each and every one of his teeth. Blame it on the dim like, sure whatever, but in that moment, his unusually sharp incisors extending at least an inch from the gums like the infamous folklore being of the undead. He tilted his head away from the light with crazed eyes, searching for y/n in the sparsely lit room.

She sat up a little, Harry’s wide eyes immediately snapping to hers and his body jumps to action. Faster than she could blink, he appeared next to her and picked her up, his shirt bunching up to her stomach, exposing the little white bow on the band of her underwear, and Harry’s still-hard member twitches in his underwear. His biceps straining and stomach muscles clenching as he picks her up from the bed, the pillow still in her arms.

“Y/n, honey, we need to go,” Harry rushes out, breathlessly. “We need to leave, c’mon, let’s-lets get you home.” And he takes her out of the room in his arms, y/n looking at him still muddled in the state of pending euphoria.

“What- What’s going on?...” That’s when she saw the body. Slumped on the stairs was amale’s figure, lying on his front with his head tilted to the side so y/n could see that he had a bloody nose and blood trailing down from his a cut on his thick eyebrows, coating his thick lashes and onto his exotic lips. “Harry!” she gasped. “ What?..”

“It’s alright, angel. Don’t worry about that.” Harry turned her away from him, but she managed to twist her head to look over his shoulder at the slumped body that was getting smaller and smaller as Harry bent to pick her things up from next to the door, and walked out. “Just a prick that doesn’t know how to mind his own business. He’ll be awake soon and he’s not here for tea,” Before she knew it, Harry was carrying her out the door and rounding the corner of the house. The cold breeze hits y/n legs and the sides of her arms, and she could only imagine what Harry , who was only in his underwear, was feeling.

She didn’t have time to admire the scenery of his home, because she was put in the passenger seat of an all black car with dark tinted windows parked behind the cottage.

“Put the belt on love,” Hands unnecessary thumbed at her thighs, eyes searching hers for… for… for what? Heart shaped lips gaped open and closed like a guppy fish, trying to tell her something but not being able to find the words.

“Harry, is everything alright?” She asked, still clutching the pillow to her chest. Her kept flicking from Harry’s still pink mouth, and his frantic eyes that seemed almost.. scared. He was scared.

He hesitated a bit before responding. Opening and closing his mouth once more before nodding and murmuring, “Yes, angel. Everything’s fine.” and he smiled sadly at her, lips curling inwards.

He closed her door, and curved around the front of the car, placing a ringed hand on the hood of the car; the same hand who rings, just a few moments ago, had sent cold shivers to her hot clit. The thought brought warmth to her cheeks, and she buried her nose into the pillow to avoid staring at Harry while he hurriedly put on a pair of dark green tattersall pants and dragged a zipper over his hard male heat.

The car purred to life,and Harry crushed gravel underneath the car's tires and he quickly pulled out of the driveway. Speed pushed y/n into her seat, and Harry looked over at her like she’d forgotten she was there, he blinked at her, and then turned his attention back to the oddly straight road. One hand on the wheel, and the other, pensively running a forefinger back and forth his bottom lip.

Harry was out of his mind with worry. Worry over why the fuck Zayn was at his house. Over what would happen when he returned. Worry over what he would say to y/n when he left her at her doorstep and never saw her again. And worry over what in the hell he was going to do with himself because he was sure that by now, the head of his dick was an angry purple, and it hurt like a-

“Harry?” The sweet voice he learned to treasure over such a very short time, called to him. “What happened back there? Is this like, I dunno, a mafia thing? He’s the money collector, and that’s why you had to leave? Or was he-”

Her wild imagination humored him, and he gave her the smallest of smiles, a faint smile like the one he’d given her that time at the diner. “No, darling. M’not a bad guy. I promise.” “Yeah, that exactly the kind of thing a bad guy would say.” she scoffed, turning her attention to the passing scenery.

“‘Think that if i wanted to something t’you, ‘would’ve that time at the diner, don’t you think?” She’s quiet. Doesn’t say anything to Harry’s response. Doesn’t do anything , at all. Like she didn’t hear him.

“Why did you leave?” She’s still looking out the window when she talks, so her voice is muffled. “That night at the diner. You left so quickly, I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.”

Now Harry acts like he didn’t hear her.

“Hmm?” She hums expectantly, suddenly turning to face him. She knew she was prodding, but she longed to hear any kind of explanation.

“Had something t’do,” He’s voice was quiet, almost at a whisper, and his slowed words muddled together even more in his british drawl.

“At 3 in the morning?” Y/n squeaks, her tone going high enough that it cracks.

“No, at 6 actually. And it’s a three hour drive to where I was goin.’”

Her heart was pounding; blood roaring in her ears. She couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. But did it matter? All she wanted was any kind of explanation, and she’d gotten it. So, she slumped defeatedly back in her seat, deflated that Harry hadn’t tried to apologize for his inconvenient timing; didn’t offer any kind of expansion on his explaining.

Y/n spent the rest of the ride scowling; glaring at the passing trees. Angry for letting herself get caught up in this situation, for not questioning anything earlier. But how could she? There was something about Harry that reeled her in like a fish to a worm on a hook. Hooked. She was hooked on him. Couldn’t get enough of him. She figured that he was the burning light mosquitoes were attracted to, and she was the stupid bloodsucking bug. And she was bound to get burnt. Maybe this was a sign, that the next he popped up unannounced, she was to run and yell bloody murder. Because even though she was just about to let him take her a million ways and one, it wouldn’t ever be. It was completely illogical; crazy, in fact, because she had just met this guy once before.

But it all felt so familiar with him. That’s why she didn’t hesitate to do anything. It felt like maybe, if the concept is true, she’d known him in a past life. Because his touch didn’t feel like just a superficial human tissue to tissue contact… no, it felt like it was his way of communicating all the things he couldn’t say out loud because he was scared to.

His grip on her thighs wasn’t just an ‘i want you’ it was a ‘please stay, and let me show you how much i need you’. His featherlight touch to her cheeks was his was of saying i don’t want to ever hurt you. His lips told her this is how you make me feel.

And y/n… adored his attention. His stern lingering gazes. Call her easy, but this man was a god and he was looking at her. How could she say no to that? Not when dickheads like Alex were throwing ice cold water at her on a breezy October night. Not when she was all alone in a makeshift paradise and so drunk out of her mind she imagined him glowing.

“We’re in the city, darling. I need y’to tell m’where y’live.” Harry’s murmur was just barely louder than the engine smoot rev.

“On Yves and Smith. Laymane’s Apartment Complex.”

Harry didn’t take that long because he was already on Yves Street, and they were a block away from Smith. He pulled to a stop in front of the the red-brick building, and reached behind her chair to pull out her basket, that had everything arranged neatly inside. When did he even have the time to do that?

“Thank you,” She said, looking past Harry, at the apartment’s front steps like she was dreading stepping through the door. Which she was, she knew that once she got out of the car, she’d never see him again. Harry watched her, taking everything in, and imagining what could have been. “You wanna come in?” Immediately, she knew it was a bad idea because her roommate is nosy, and she’d make them both uncomfortable.

But Harry shook his head, and with pinched eyebrows, he said “No, I’ve got a problem to tend to.” He looked away from her then, clenching his jaw so hard the side of his face contorted.

“Right,” She went to remove her buckle, and paused slightly before she clicked the red ‘push’ button. Y/n placed the pillow that was no underneath her basket, in the backseat, and she opened the door. Turning back to look at him once more, was when Harry leaned across the console, took her face in both of his hands and gave her the softest kiss yet. Even that, stirred the heat that had not yet quelled.

“Goodbye, angel.” Touching his forehead against hers once, and kissing her nose, her cheeks, her eyelids, Harry’s heart began to burn. It took his breath away, and he turned away from y/n and towards her apartment to bite on his knuckle and squeeze his eyes shut. It felt as if someone was driving a red hot stake into his heart, twisting it as it drove into his chest. What the?...

“Bye, Harry.” His chest flared with heat at hearing her honey lips murmur his name for the last time. Then it all stopped the moment she closed the door of his BMW.

Harry stayed a few moments longer, to watch her legs as she curved the hood of his car, and climb up the steps. Her- his shirt rode up in the subtle wind, and flashes of her butt winked at him cheekily. She wasn’t even trying and Harry still found her attractive. He had to refrain from stepping out of the car and holding his shirt down for her all the way up till she was inside her home.

Y/n realized, when she was unlocking her door, that she hadn’t thanked him for paying for her strawberry milkshake.

“C’mon y/n! What’s the worst that could happen?” nagged her roommate, Megan, who held a glimmering golden dress to the length of her body, twisting and turning in front of the mirror.

“Oh, please don’t try and get in my head right now,” y/n begged. “I barely have room for myself in here.”

It was 6 pm on New Year’s Eve, and they’d both been sent an open invite to their mutual friend Adam’s houseparty. Y/n wanted to stay in and spend the night with her new romance novel and a heavy heating blanket but, Megan was dragging her to the party because she claimed that all y/n ever did these days was go to school and come home. She was lying on her roommates bed with her chin on her palm, when Megan set the dress on her bed, and began to drag y/n by her ankles.

“Then let’s get some of you out of your head and out of this apartment. Y/n you need this.” Megan stopped pulling, and turned her over to shake her by the shoulders. “If you go to this party,” Her eyebrows wiggled like a walking caterpillar, “I’ll do our laundry for a month and buy that ice cream from the asian market you like so much.”

“HA! If you washed my clothes, all my whites would end up colored,” Y/n poked her tongue out at her roommate, and let her push her into her room.

“You got anything good in here?” Megan opened the mirror door to y/n’s closet, and started going through every hanger. “Or am I gonna have to let you borrow- Holy shit y/n! When did you get this?”

Megan holds up the fine piece of silk y/n had shoved into the very back of her closet. Harry’s white shirt.

After going weeks without seeing or hearing from him, y/n kept the shirt, and hid the painful reminder that she had spent one intoxicating night with the most attractive man she’d ever met. She thought about him every minute of everyday, and ever dream of every sleep she ever takes. Heck, her heart burns and yearns for him so badly it physically hurts. Like she was being lit aflames from the inside; red hot fire licking every artery, every vein. Sometimes it got so bad she doubled over in pain, retching breathlessly.

She tried to forget about him, but he was everywhere. In the pie that Megan brought home a week after y/n didn’t get her promised pie. In the cross at the altar at church every sunday. In the cups of hot chocolate she had to stop drinking because they reminded her so much of his hair. In her fucking toothpaste for christ’s sake. And in that stupid shirt that she slept with for the first week because it smelled like him. Cinnamon and vanilla and something earthy that was just him.

“This is GUCCI Y/N!” Megan squealed, shoving the fabric in y/n’s face,and when she tries to take it back, Megan pulls away from her.

“Give it to me,” Y/n said, getting off her bed and chasing Megan, who ran to the other side of the room. “No, if you want this back,” her friend wiggled her eyebrows again. “Come to the party with me.”

Without hesitation, y/n agreed because that shirt was the last she had to prove that her enchanted night wasn’t all a dream. “Okay, okay. I’ll go. Now give it back,”

“Nuh-uh” Megan ran into her room across the hall from y/n, and locked the door before she could get inside to chase after. She begins to panic, hoping that Megan isn’t doing anything stupipd with one of her most prized possessions.

“Megan, that shirt means a lot to me. Please be-” She has a hand raised to start banging on the door, but Her roommate opens the door with a big smile.

“Don’t worry babe, just using it as insurance,” She pats y/n’s shoulder and walks back into her room. “Now let’s get you ready.”

It was 10pm when they arrived at the house, which actually turned out to be the entire top floor of a really nice apartment building downtown. Adam had decorated the place himself, and you could tell by the bean bags, lazy boy chairs , and plaid couch that were strewn everywhere. A long table in the center of the room was set up with plates and utensils at every chair, wine bottles and glasses lines up in a straight row all the way down the table. There seemed to be one bottle for every person, and more by the amounts that were set in the table at the entrance. A calm yellow glow of mood light from strips of fairy lights surrounding the room was an odd combination with the awfully loud guests, some already clearly piss drunk.

Upon arrival, y/n had been immediately separated from Megan, who was gone before y/n could turn and mutter something sarcastic about the party into her ear. Adam had greeted her quickly at the entrance, giving her a bottle of 5% strawberry cider complete with a pastel pink ribbon at the neck. The gangly, freshly 21 year old, looked frazzled, turning his head this way and that every time his name was called because last minute decorations were still going up at the photobooth section.

“So glad you could make it,” Adam distractedly pressed a kiss to her cheek while he hugged her, yelling to someone about how ‘the only kid in the room was Charlie at he was 16 so if you don’t play some real fucking music-’

“Yeah, me too,” Y/n said quietly, almost to herself because Adam had walked away to snatch the bluetooth speaker from the guy with lousy taste. Seconds later, a trendy hip-hop song blared throughout the entire floor.

Desperately, y/n searched the place for someone, anyone, she may have recognized at the stupid party. If I had just been able to stay home… she puffed her cheeks, and blew air out from her lips wistfully, the cold bottle of cider helping the dread weigh her down.

She figured she’d take the bottle of strawberry bubbly, and go up the stairs she’d spotted in the corner of the room. The quick but seemingly endless walk that required her to walk in front of the heavily populated lounge areas, and the section of the room where a golden curtain and sparkly 2019 glasses were being passed around, brought rosy tint to her cheeks. Even though she knew that no one was lookinng at her, and once she passed the door to go up the steps, no one would even miss her, she was still embarrassed to be potentially seen walking by herself, dressed in a lousy last minute mint green slip dress (the same dress that reminded her of Harry’s eyes), at a New Year’s Eve party meant to congregate with others; to celebrate another year. And while that’s usually something she was good at, getting piss drunk with others at holiday parties, this was the one year that she was dreadfully sad. A shadow of loneliness loomed over her shoulder wherever she went, reminding her that she was painfully alone. She could’ve been surrounded by people, laughing with others, or even making out with a guy a year younger the back of her Human Interactions class, but that same damned black hole would still be at the pit of her stomach, draining away any sort of ‘happy’ that she managed to get.

The poor girl was miserable. And up on that rooftop that overlooked that nightlife of the city, while she unwrapped the pink foil on the bottle of champagne all alone on New Year’s Eve, it all accumulated like a rolling snowball, and hit her like a truck. Barreling towards her at full force, and she had no way to escape from her sorrow. It really felt like she was all alone in the world; that everyone avoided her like she was the plague even though it was the other way around (she the one who boarded up her house).

She sipped away at her problems, and they collected on her tongue with the taste of fermented strawberries. Her “problems” fizzled in her tongue and down her throat, bitterly sizzling and air bubbles popping in her esophagus.

Maybe it was the cider that caused an acid reaction, and initiated the burning that crawled all the way to the center of her heart. But y/n knew better. She knew these came regularly, and stronger when she missed him. And when they came and she remembered, the pain only increased, almost suffocating her. This was one of those times, where she remembered him, his eyes popping into her mind, and she grabbed the railing because it hit her so hard she almost fell over.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” with one hand, she held the rail that overlooked the city, and with the other, she clutched the bottle to her chest; kneading with earnest, trying her hardest to dissolve the knot of fire that has developed in her heart.

“You alright there, babe?” Red sneakers appear in y/n’s line of view, and the guy who they belong to crouches down in front of her and titles his head at her. He’s got blue eyes and soft looking caramel hair swept to the side. His lips are a little on the thin side, adorned by scruff on his jaw. “Want me to get you anythin’?” He’s got an accent faster and chirpier that Harry’s, y/n thought. Big mistake.

She falls completely to the floor, vision almost going black because she wasn’t getting any oxygen. Y/n’s body started to convulse, her back arching and hands wildly pulling at the collar of her dress. They had never been this bad.

“It burns,” She was yelling now, gasping for air with eyes so wide it looked like they were going to pop.

“Shit, fuck, uh…” whispered the blue-eyed boy. “I’m going to get cold water,” he was talking aloud to himself, because y/n was unaware of everything going on. The only thing she knew was the pain in her chest.

When the blue-eyed boy disappeared down the stairs, another ,more malicious voice is audible, this one reaching y/n’s struggling ears because this voice she knew. This voice she had heard somewhere before. “Finally, ‘thought the chap would neva leave.” An arabian nose and thick eyebrows make their way into her line of rapidly fading view.

It was him. It was the guy at Harry’s house, the one knocked out on the stairs and he was picking her up. He was carrying her somewhere, whistling as he does so. By now, the pain has lessened, and y/n is more alert than before, her head hung limp on this man’s shoulder, who smelled like the old spice her middle school boyfriend used.

“What’s happening?” She said groggily, going to rub her eye, but poking herself with the open bottle of champagne that she was still holding on to; some of it has slipped down her green dress.

“Ah, you’re awake,” the man looks at her, and then y/n remembers his name. Zayn, I’m not going to ask you again, get the fuck out of my house! Zayn. “Good, good. We’re gonna have some fun. Well, I’m going to have some fun.”

Y/n tried to push herself off and away from him by shoving his chest, but her efforts were to no avail, he didn’t even budge; like he was made of stone.

“Let me go, Zayn!” She huffed.

“So you do remember.” He laughed, a deep resonating cackle. They were heading down the stairs, but instead of going towards where everyone else was, Zayn made a left turn down a dark alley. The darker it got, the more y/n could see that his eyes…. His eyes shined red like a lighthouse. An otherworldly aura about him, that shook y/n to the core. This man, well to put it simply, she knew, a tug in the pit of her stomach, wasn’t human. And when he suddenly stopped and bent his head to sniff at her throat, the sound of a knife taken out of his sheath evaded y/n’s ears, and she knew that Harry wasn’t human either.

She knew why Harry knocked Zayn out, when he sunk his teeth into her with a low ‘you smell delicious’. A pinch, like thick needles sliding into her skin, caused her to drop the bottle of champagne onto the floor.

Y/n tried, she really did, to push Zayn away. But he had positioned her so she was standing, and his forgein strength tied her to his body with a single arm, and the other held her head in such a way that made it each for hm to lick and bite. The girl was stuck in a permanent state of ‘deer in the headlights' shock, frozen on the outside but writing frantically on the inside. Why couldn’t she move? MOVE Y/N!

A tingling sensation spread all from her toes to the top of her head, a honey daze of warmth that made her slump in Zayn’s arms. Oh she liked this, the soft stage of your feet going numb is what she was feeling. Vibrations, waves, currents-

“Zayn, I fucking warned you,” Harry. Holy shit whatever this was, she hoped it kept going because she swears- “You’re going to wish you died the first time,”

It was Harry. Harry standing not even two feet away, green eyes glowing like headlights; beams. Harry has the same expression on his face as when Jordan Belfort yelled ‘MY KILLAHS!’ to all his employees. A crazed snarl, and he was lunging at them like those wild cat documentaries shots, where the mountain lion is jumping in slow motion for the poor and soon to be dead deer. He pounced on the side of Zayn’s body farthest from y/n, yanking Zayn’s head back by the hair on the nape of his neck to pry him away from her neck. She gasped wetly mewling and gazing at Harry with a ‘not quite here’ look in her eye. Harry wrapped an arm around y/n’s waist, hoisting her over his shoulder and out of Zayn’s hold like a sleeve.

“Haaarryy!” she slurred, slinging her arms around Harry’s neck, while he held Zayn up against the wall in a chokehold. “Missed y-you,” y/n’s hiccuping, as if she had drank the entire bottle of cider that had crashed onto the floor. “Not now, y/n.” Harry looked into her eyes sternly, threatening her to even try and disobey him. “Go back to the party, I’ll be out in a bit.” He was shunning her, chastising her like she’d been a bad child. In her spurious state of inebriation, y/n pouted and huffed, even stomped a little, but listened to Harry nonetheless and skipped towards the bright light of the party.

The blue-eyed man, who was actually short (her height actually) walked past her without a second glance, head directed straight on with a purpose. Y/n, adopting a la la la attitude, simply shrugged and went back into the remarkably loud party, and sat down at the head of the still empty table, and poured wine for herself with the bottle that was on the table.

“Y/n?” Megan appeared next to her, gasping and squealing obnoxiously. “Y/n! You little slut, that is a mean,” hiccup, “h-hickey.” Megan took the sit next to y/n, and snatched the bottle away from her, slurping straight from the mouth ungraciously.

“Y-you,” hiccup, “left m-me.” Y/n pointed a finger at Megan, her voice small but accusing.

“I-it’s” hiccup, “only b-because, Conrad said that h-he,” hiccup, “would show me a good time. B-but, it t-turns out that all he,” hiccup, “wanted was a bl-blowjob.”

“Who’s,” hiccup, “the s-slut now?” Y/n giggled, twisting her neck in a way that showed off the large purple splotch, and stretched the sore skin in a manner that caused her to whimper an ‘ouch’.

“Neither of you,” interrupts a deep voice that causes them to look up and see Harry standing with the same expression y/n had seen on him when she saw him at the diner. Furrowed eyebrows, clenched jaw, cold eyes and a glimmer of something in them. “It’s not nice to insult each other the way you’re doing.” He looked at y/n while he spoke, gazing at her so intensely, she wiggled in the cushioned seat.

“She started it,” Y/n whined.

“Well look at her n-neck!” Megan leaned onto the table, and began to mutter something else, but fell face first onto the plate and started snoring.

“Why don’t we get something on tha’, hmm?” Harry picked y/n up by the waist, and left his arm hooked on her waist while he looked for the restroom.

“Where’s Zayn?” asked y/n, stumbling on her feet giddily, staring at everything she passed, the vase on the stand, the couples making out, the generic picture frames, the couples making out.

“Tha’s none of y’concern,” He turned into the restroom, and sat her down on the toilet seat. Closing the door for privacy, he took her hands into his face and quietly watched her for a moment.

“You know Harry?” A dopey smile spread across her lips, eyelids drooping halfway closed. “I know what you are.”

“Do you, angel?” Harry’s thumbed caressed the soft skin underneath her eye, a movement of instinct that he didn’t even have to think about doing because it happened on its own.

“Like it when you c-call me that.” Y/n whimpered, and turned her face into Harry’s hand like a kitten looking for more pets.

“Tell me what I am.” Harry said tenderly, encouraging her to answer by guiding her face to his. “Tell me what I am, angel.”

“V-vampire.” She blurted, “You’re a vampire. Why didn’t you tell me you’re a vampire?”

“I thought it would be better that way, darling.”

“Better? Feeling my heart burn isn’t better.” She pouted.

“What did you say?” Harry’s demeanor perked up like a dog who’d been asked if he wanted to go outside. His eyes looking from her right to left one, searching for an answer.

“I SAID… I said my heart burns.” Y/n was slightly irritated that Harry had asked her to repeat herself. Because hadn’t it been perfectly clear what she’d said? And why was she so tired?

“Your heart burns?” He asked, trying desperately to keep her awake, because he has felt the same exact burning in his heart during the time she was away from her. In fact, he’d gone through a spasm just moments before he arrived on the rooftop to send Zayn to hell.

“Yeah,” hiccup, “That’s what I said.” She nodded pitifully, lips curving upwards.

“My heart… burned, too.”

“You missed me?” Y/n said excitedly, her heart beating faster at the thought that Harry may’ve missed her to. “Because it hurt whenever I missed you.”

“Baby, I missed you, so much.” And Harry kisses her. He leans in to close the gap between them, smashing his lips against hers with all the emotion that had pent up within him throughout the past weeks.

“I’m so mad at you.” Y/n says when they break apart, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, the same tears that spilled on her pillow the nights after Harry said goodbye to her.

“I almost did. That time at the diner, I left before the sunrise so that you didn’t see my skin glow. And that time in the field, it wasn’t the champagne. I drank it before you woke up. And then at my house? I almost sunk my teeth into you, just like Zayn did. And when he came in, he came in ready to drain you because he finds you just as delicious as I do. I thought you’d be safe if I never say you again after I left you at your doorstep, but I was so stupid for that.” He says, pressing his forehead against hers, and mawkishly rubbing his nose senselessly against hers.

“...Would’ve liked it better if you bit me.”

Harry inhales, in disbelief that after all he had said, this is what she came up with as a response. “Oh, don’t say those kinds of things to me, baby. You don’t know who’s cage you’re rattling.” At her whiny and desperate words, his dick twitched with a sudden surge of heat, hardening rapidly at y/n’s words.

“Wanna rattle your cage always, Harry.” She placed her forehead on his chest, rubbing her lips on his collar bones back and forth a few times. “Please don’t leave me ever again. Think I’ll die if you do.” She yawned, and fell slack against Harry’s chest.

And Harry? Harry stood in the restroom of a college student’s New Year’s Eve party, cock hard in his pants, completely bewildered that y/n had murmured those words to him. But, he hugged her to his chest and said, “I’ll never leave you again, my sweet little angel.” And he wouldn’t. Because after putting off staying with her, and seeing what the results were, he’d never leave her side again.

STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO!

much love, -abigail

1K notes · View notes