#him opting to greet her with a cheek kiss shows how close he thinks they are & his affection for her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

todoscript · 4 years

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SUMMARY: Having realized Bakugou and Midoriya’s infatuation with you, Shouto decides to make a firm point at showing that you’re his and his alone.

pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader (feat. bakugou katsuki & midoriya izuku)

genre: smut. slight angst. pro hero au.

word count: 8.0k+

warnings: 18+. characters are aged up. dominant!shouto. possessive!shouto. (!!!)coercion. exhibitionism. bondage (kinda). slight degradation. praising. squirting. humiliation (bakugou & midoriya receiving).

author’s note: so the idea for this fic came to me one day while i was studying chemistry and it kinda got out of hand the moment i started writing it...haha, oops... but anyway, shoutout to rosie ( @shoutogepi ) for listening to me ramble about this and encouraging me to write this shit, love you lots babe! <333 also a reminder to please look over the warnings before proceeding, thank you!!!

If your open jaw is not enough to emphasize your shock, then the bag that hits the floor after escaping your grasp does that job for you. It also alerts the three existing presences in the room of your arrival, to which all eyes maneuver to the door of your shared bedroom, witnessing your appalled state at what is lying in wake.

Lounging on the futon, Shouto breaks your awed silence. “Welcome home, love,” he greets, warmly as per usual whenever he arrives home from work before you do.

You’re utterly surprised by how indifferent he sounds despite the two additional faces in the room. After all, it’s not every day you’d ever expect the Pro Number One and Two heroes to be here in your very bedroom, bound by what you have to assume is your boyfriend’s ice.

Unsure how to go about your reply, you instead opt to slowly walk into the room, assessing the situation. Your wary gaze darts between the angry red eyes of Bakugou Katsuki and the strained green ones of Midoriya Izuku. “I... U-Um… Shouto? What is all of this? What are Midoriya and Bakugou doing here?” You finally manage to address the elephant in the room, yet Shouto does not tackle your questions with as much haste as you are hoping.

He gets up from the bed to meet you in the middle, gathering you in his arms before his lips find your temple—the kiss he presses soft and tender, but the fact that there are two other pairs of eyes glancing over at you from such a compromising position warms your cheeks buried in his chest.

You don’t catch how Bakugou practically wrenches at the sight while Midoriya turns away, abashed. There’s hurt discerned in their expressions that can only be akin to pure jealousy. But you don’t know that. Well, not yet anyway.

“Let me explain, love,” Shouto starts, his voice a meager space away from your ear that he tucks a hair behind, “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed or not, but are you aware that these two both—”

“That’s it! I don’t have to stay here and listen to this crap!” Bakugou’s loud voice bursts out, cutting the rest of Shouto’s words short just before they fall to your ear. Watching as a fever of energy begins emitting from Bakugou’s palms trapped in the ice, the dual-haired hero quickly acts by erecting another glacier to impede the blonde’s abilities, effectively keeping him trapped there. Bakugou can only grit his teeth as he remains bound. Meanwhile, you gape at the lengths Shouto goes to prevent these two renowned heroes from leaving this space.

The chill that diffuses throughout the atmosphere of the room pairs fittingly with the frigid stare Shouto points at your guests. Ensuring the cold doesn’t affect you, he regulates your temperatures with his fire side while your body is still pressed against him before continuing. “As I was saying, these two men in front of you both harbor the same feelings for you as I do,” Shouto says. You slightly turn to meet his heterochromatic gaze with confusion written on your face, unsure what his words exactly imply.

Reading this, Shouto’s hand at your waist travels to your nape. “I’m sure you must have realized it by now, love... The way their touches linger on you for far longer than necessary whenever you meet them...” His calloused hand rubs at the back of your neck, the other traveling up your chest that yields a strained noise from your mouth.

“Or how they flirt with you whenever you visit my agency while they’re there, thinking I don’t notice. Telling you how good you look or how pretty you are.” His words meld into your skin as his lips meet below your jawline, the sensation of his nibbles manifesting your noises into frail moans that lights blushes in your spectators’ cheeks. All attempts at disregarding those cases as friendly compliments are hindered when your attention is captured by Shouto’s wandering hands and hypnotizing voice.

“Though I wholeheartedly agree with every statement, I think it’s only right of me—your boyfriend—to be a little concerned when they’re always giving you those looks.”

You bite your lip in hopes of suppressing the next noise that threatens to spill from your mouth before curiosity overtakes you. “What looks?” you pry yet not entirely ready for the answer. Shouto breaths in closely next to your ear, voice guttural and full of weight.

“Like they want to fuck you.”

His claims have your eyes blown out wide, timbre compelling goosebumps across your skin at something so vulgar departing his mouth. You try to muster out a comprehensible thought for the sake of the two heroes, but the words are drawn back in your throat. Shouto catches your guarded look.

“Now, don’t go saying they’re just being friendly with you, baby. I mean look at them. Are those the faces of two men who just want to be friends with you?”

The air has suddenly grown tense, the tension so taut it could be cut with a butter knife. Hesitantly, you shift to meet Bakugou and Midoriya’s eyes to gauge a response from them. To your surprise, all you can perceive are the sheer expressions of shame painted on their faces—red smearing their cheeks with humiliation as they can’t help but glance at anywhere else but you.

“Well?” Shouto chimes in after you’ve fully grasped the reality of the situation.

Peering into his icy heterochromatic eyes, you gulp. You know you have no right to be lying to his face, no matter how much you insist it isn’t so.

“N-No,” you admit.

A grin curves on his lips before he kisses your cheek.

“Mm, smart girl.”

Despite you waving your white flag, Shouto doesn’t stop his touches from wandering your body. He palms at sensitive areas that leave you burning. Those whimpers you’ve desperately tried to conceal unfetter from your lips when his hands inch upon skin hidden beneath your clothing. His touches are firm with a mixture of warmth and coolness that has you holding your breath. The sensations cloud your thoughts, making you forget where you are as the other presences in the room now in the back of your mind.

Midoriya and Bakugou can’t bring themselves to look anymore—can’t bear to gaze at such intimacy they can never hope to attain. Especially when your cute noises leave a twitch in their pants, a feeling they fail to cast off in shame.

“Todoroki... you made your point, now please let us out of this ice,” Midoriya says through his dry lips. Though the verdant-haired hero knows he could free himself on his own with his strength, if Shouto has anything to say about it, he’d just conjure another pillar of ice as quickly as a snap of a finger to replace the shattered ones. Considering that’s what he’s done to keep the two of them from leaving thus far.

“You can’t be fucking serious about leaving us here, Icy-Hot,” Bakugou adds with far more hostility in his tone as he shoots a glare at the red and white-haired man.

The reminder that the top two Pro Heroes are still present in the same room as you while Shouto trails his large hands at every expanse of bare flesh he can find delivers a jolt of embarrassment throughout your body. Embarrassment that somehow kindles a lick of heat in your abdomen.

“On the contrary, this is only part one of what I have in store for you two tonight,” Shouto says, lips playing on the fine line of a smirk. “In fact, I plan on ingraining in your very minds that my love belongs to me and only me by making you two watch her come undone on my cock.”

There’s disbelief throughout the room, trying to comprehend the lengths behind his words.

“W-Wait, are we really doing this in front of them?” you sputter.

“If you’re that uncomfortable about this love, then I’ll simply leave them in this room and fuck you in the next one so they can at least hear every little thing I’m doing to you,” he offers, tone descending multiple steps that rack shivers down your skin as he circles your body, standing chest to your back.

“But having an audience entices you, doesn’t it? After all, look at how wet you are.” He hooks an arm below your leg, lifting it slightly so his free hand can slip into your panties beneath your skirt, no longer blocked by your thighs clenching together. You find yourself winding an arm behind his neck to keep balance. Your eyes shut tight from both mortification and pleasure at how he strokes your slit in front of the two heroes. Sure enough, there’s an abundant amount of slick gathered at your center, the shameful squelching at your throbbing cunt not eluding anyone’s ears in the room.

“Mmm, already such a drenched fucking mess. It’s like the fact that all three of us lust for you makes you even wetter,” he whispers into your ear like a red-winged devil professing your sins to you—sins you should feel disgraceful for, yet you can’t help the exhilaration simmering in your chest. After all, having three powerful, attractive men vying for your attention is nothing short of every girl’s dream. To deny the effects this has on your body would only add dishonesty to your list of sins. Shouto takes your silence as confirmation.

Parting from your panties, he reveals his fingers coated in your shiny essence to everyone in the room. Bakugou and Midoriya water at the sight, groans stifled under their breaths as the many nights of dreaming about how sweet you taste come back to hit them all at once. The saccharine dripping between your thighs is so close, and yet so far as Shouto remains firm on his word about keeping them bound throughout his show of dominance.

Though driven in such compromising circumstances, the two Pro Heroes can’t find it within themselves to tear their eyes away from you. Perhaps in actuality, a deep, dark longing inside them secretly confesses to wanting to watch you unravel amidst the throes of pleasure, even if your undoing is due to someone that isn’t them.

“What a naughty slut you are, admitting you get off at the thought of more than one man wanting to ravage this body of yours.” His lips brush against the shell of your ear, heightening your mortification and the ever-growing wetness at your center.

“However, I’m all you need, isn’t that right, sweetheart? I’m the only man that can reduce you to this soaked, quivering mess from just my voice alone, and the only one whose cock makes your body shake with pleasure that leaves you sore for days.”

“Yes, Sh-Shouto…” you airily whimper in reply.

Shouto’s index finger presses against your trembling bottom lip, slightly smearing your slick on its plushness before he cups your face to stare directly at Bakugou and Midoriya.

“Go on then. Tell the Number One and Number Two Pro Heroes who you belong to,” he commands lowly in your ear. Before you can speak, heat ignites in your cheeks. You glance down and take note of the prominent bulges within the two’s tight clothing, their cocks positively aching to break free from the confines. The fact that the two seem to be getting off on the sight of you manhandled by Shouto is something to acknowledge.

“I… I belong to you…” Your voice wanes.

“Who? Be more specific, baby.”

“I belong to the Number Three hero, Todoroki Shouto,” you say, more clearly this time. The response is sufficient enough to satisfy the man behind you, who turns your head so your lips can connect in a passion of teeth and tongue dancing together that leaves your lungs gasping for air, detaching with ragged breaths. While you’re recovering, Shouto tugs you closer by your chin, pressing your foreheads against each other, where you gander into the depths of his gray and turquoise eyes swimming with lust.

“That’s right, and no one else is going to fuck you like I am tonight.” He sneaks a side-glance at his fellow heroes. “They can only watch as I drive my cock into your pussy over and over again, wishing they were me.”

Midoriya remains silent, letting his troubled expression speak for him, blush persisting on his face. Bakugou, on the other hand, decides to spit a few words out.

“Fuck. You.”

Make that only two words. Still, the venom dripping off each one gets his point across, in that he’s absolutely livid. But sadly for him, it has no effect on the calm and collected Todoroki Shouto.

Taking you by the hand, he leads you to the futon, sprawled out flat for your small audience to behold the entirety of your fucking tonight. Shouto kisses the back of your hand before leaving you to continue standing. He settles himself on the sheets with his arms propped behind him to view up at you as you obediently wait for his orders.

“Well, love, you know what to do. Take off some clothes for me,” he says gruffly. You oblige, slowly peeling off layers. Your skirt piles into a heap on the floor at undoing the zipper holding it in place, quickly followed by the blouse tossed over your head which leaves the remaining clothing on your body your mismatched lingerie. The dainty, silk intimates are the only thing separating you from being fully exposed to everyone.

Even given a sparing view of you from behind, Midoriya and Bakugou readily eat you up. If they somehow haven’t been undressing you with their eyes before this, then they certainly are now. Bakugou zeroes in on your pert ass, emphasized by your panties, and itches to grasp its softness in his own palms, desiring to squeeze, rub, and spank till his heart’s content.

Contrarily, Midoriya has his sights set on the clasp of your bra. What he wouldn’t give to unfasten it from your body and have the article of clothing slip off your skin, putting your beautiful breasts on display, nipples likely stiff and begging for the attention of his fingers and mouth.

It’s unfortunate for them that no such fantasies will come true tonight. After all, you don’t belong to them. You belong to Shouto.

Feeling incredibly vulnerable, you rub your thighs together to create some friction between your lower lips, trying to subside the throb growing in your belly. But you can only endure for so long when Shouto is staring at you with such scalding intensity. You’re struggling to hold onto the remnants of your dignity before it’s stripped away from you at the next command.

“Baby, you’re gorgeous, but,” Shouto hums, admiring the view for a second longer before cutting to the chase, “I want it all off.”

Not wasting any time, your thumbs hook under the waistband of the silk, quickly casting the panties to join the pile below your feet. The way your web-like slick connects your folds to the material before breaking off as your panties reach the ground does not go unnoticed. Your bra, of course, is the next to be discarded—unhooked and tossed, unveiling your tits to the chilly air.

Defenses torn down, you stand bare and exposed to all eyes in the room. You don’t miss the glint flitting in the mismatch of Shouto’s eyes, staring at you like he’s uncovered a beautiful pearl beneath the ocean. Though this is far from your first time engaging in your sexual desires with him, you always fall prey to that carnal look of his, which seemed even more lecherous tonight. He runs a finger on his lips pulled into a seductive smile, eyes piqued at your naked form.

Prickles of arousal travel down your spine. You can’t discern whether it’s the very thought of your vulnerability or the fiery looks you swear are piercing into you at every angle that has you tingling with anticipation.

Either way, such spark coursing through your veins drives you into Shouto’s waiting arms as he beckons you to him. He welcomes you onto his lap, allowing your thighs purchase next to his own while his large hands grope at your soft skin. It isn’t long until your lips meet again, Shouto coaxing—no—prying them open with his tongue as it finds yours, brushing the underside and chasing with zeal. His roughness has you at a loss for words, quite literally as all you can respond with are the airy moans leaking out between each fervent lip-lock. When Shouto grabs at one of your mounds, index finger circling your perky nipple, you let out a surprised squeak.

Your two bystanders’ dicks stutter in response at the noises, having absolutely nothing to do but watch and listen in envy. Every time they hear such a sweet succession of sounds from you, they fidget in their positions, attempting to pathetically generate some pressure against their clothes to alleviate the pain in their cocks.

Shouto does not miss the way they struggle within his periphery, smirking at their pitiful attempts to find any form of relief. At this, a sly thought flickers in his head.

With his hands on your hips, he guides your body further against his own. You find your knees supporting you up while your upper body leans over Shouto, hands gripping his shoulders to keep you steady. The position he’s led you in doesn’t grant you many options, besides obliging to be pliant in his hands.

Peeking over your shoulder, you flush with heat when you realize your ass is perked in the direction toward Midoriya and Bakugou. The troubling thoughts of whether you should feel flustered or flattered by their mesmerized state at how spread you are, hovering above Shouto’s lap, is ripped away when the Pro Hero begins cascading his hands across your skin. His palms waver back and forth within the boundaries of your ass and thighs, every now and then squeezing your warm flesh during his crossings between the two.

“Mmm, Sho…” you whine, the palpable neediness in your voice begging for him to touch your throbbing center already. Bakugou and Midoriya wish for the same, tormented by how slow he decides to take his caressing. If it were up to them, they’d already be tongue deep in your pussy already, perhaps even bottoming their cocks inside your walls, considering how soaked you must be. But no, Shouto wants this night to last. And he’s going to set the pace however he sees fit.

One of Shouto’s hands creeps beneath your leg to maneuver them further apart before his palms find their place at the underside of your poised ass. A short sigh floats amid your parted lips at how he spreads your cheeks, exposing your cunt freely to the two. You hear a groan, followed by an obscene “fuck…” that has you wondering what the view must be like from their perspective to render them so awestruck.

And man, if only you could see your pretty little cunt—wet, glistening, and fluttering on nothing, pleading for stimulation. Stimulation that Shouto grants sparingly as his middle and ring finger suddenly prod your slit, tearing a surprised gasp from your mouth while you toss your head backward.

Your slippery pussy coats his fingers in an opalescent sheen. He hums at the debauched image of your body yearning his touch. “Such a slutty, needy pussy… So messy, even though I haven’t even taken my clothes off yet.” Shouto takes the sullied fingers into his mouth, swiping his tongue at your delectable taste abiding his digits. It’s obscene how he makes a show of drinking up the honey from your thighs to taunt Midoriya and Bakugou, groaning between licks like it’s the one thing keeping him sustained. Well, then again, Shouto could probably survive on your essence for days if he tried, considering his favorite places to be is between your thighs anyway.

Head tilting in the direction behind you, you could’ve sworn you saw one of the two licking their lips while the other swallowed a large, heavy gulp. Before you can question it further, Shouto’s words resume ringing in your ear.

“It’s all for me right, love?” he asks as though he doesn’t already know the answer.

Your body quivers as he dives down to continue prodding your cunt before you can even respond properly. “Y-Yes, it’s just for you, Sho— Ah..!” You try your best to muster the words out. But his fingers give you no moment to spare. A jolt of pleasure spikes through your body as he reaches your clit, leaving your voice hanging in the air.

“Unnf... f-fuck...”

Shouto is relentless this time, attending to your bundled nerves at an excruciating rhythm that has you swaying your hips into his hands. Then all coherent thoughts are whisked away when you feel two fingers penetrating your sloppy pussy, thrusting into places you could never reach on your own, and prepping your walls for what’s to come.

“Baby, you take my fingers so well, you’re practically sucking them in,” he praises, reveling in the way you writhe in pleasure at him playing with your cunt. Whining, your legs move further apart involuntarily, allowing him deeper access.

You shake amid his ministrations, teeth pulling at your bottom lip at every sultry sensation rushing through your body. Wrinkling the fabric of his white shirt, your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails sinking deeper into clothed skin when you feel that familiar ache boiling in your abdomen.

“Your thighs are trembling just trying to hold you up. Going to cum soon, love?” Shouto asks. He chuckles at how vigorously you nod your head next to him, knowing your voice would fail you by the moans threatening to unravel precariously from your lips.

“Good, I want you to fucking scream. Show them how well you can cum from my fingers alone, yeah?” he murmurs beside your ear, not giving you much warning than that before suddenly increasing his movements on your cunt.

“Ah, Sho..! Sho!”

There’s nothing for you to do other than to chant his name over and over again like a mantra. You squeeze your fingers into his skin to make sure you don’t end up dissolving in his hands from the fire flaring inside you, threatening to melt you entirely.

And he loves every bit of the needy noises you make. Knowing it’s his name that echoes in the room around them, resounding in the very minds of his rivals who witness firsthand the way you scream out amidst the throes of pleasure—the scene better than any imagination of theirs they’ve conjured in their delusional fantasies—feeds Shouto’s ego deliciously.

The strained gasp you choke out when his lips make contact on your jawline has him smiling against you, the kisses he plants there blooming loving blemishes on your skin. You struggle to keep yourself together from all the sensations storming you at once. There’s something euphoric yet… foreign coursing through your body that you can’t discern, and you’re half-worried of what’s to happen when you reach your imminent release.

“Sh-Sho, wait..! Oh god, I’m gonna—!” you warn, but that only compels Shouto to speed up his pace in a last push for you to cum. From his bruising bites to his fingers methodically working you with skilled ease, it isn’t long until your escalating high peaks into intangible relief.

And god, the throb feels almost uncomfortable but so blissful at the same time.

The pressure builds up to an intense climax that has your walls clamping around his fingers, and your thighs shaking beside him while you yell out Shouto’s name. Holding you through every step of the way, his fingers steady inside you as you convulse around them. The ones at your clit continue rubbing your sensitive, swollen bud throughout your release to widen the intensity.

As your whole body trembles at the haze-induced orgasm, you lean against the hero for support.

“Ohhh baby...” His purrs rumble deep within his chest, an extra lick of delight in his tone. Your eyes are shut while you stumble down from your rapturous high, whimpering when Sho removes his fingers from your pulsating pussy.

“D-Did she just..?!” Midoriya questions incredulously, to your surprise.

“Fuck! I can’t believe she fucking squirted!” Bakugou follows.

At that, your eyes shoot open. You muster the energy to lift your body off Shouto’s lap and reveal to yourself the evident damp spot left on his pants from what you very much have to assume is a result of you gushing your release on him.

Trepidation creeps underneath your skin, swallowing you in mortification.

You really did that.

Squirted in front of the top three Pro Heroes in the country, making a mess on Sho’s pants with your flowing, translucent cum. The very reminder of it spouts your head with your overthinking.

“Wait, I didn’t mean to— I-I mean... I didn’t think I was ever a squirter. It’s just—”

“Love.”

A single word is enough to dispel your ramblings. You look up at Shouto like a deer caught in headlights, expression harrowed by apprehension. At that, he holds your shoulders, pulling you forward so he can press a reassuring kiss against your forehead. The tender gesture numbs the uneasy static racking through you, moving away to glimpse at the endearment hidden within the smoldering fog swirling in Shouto’s eyes.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he assures through hushed words he embeds unto your skin, hands warmly running down your sides. “Besides, you squirting on my fingers was so so sexy.” His seductive allure returns almost as quickly as it disappeared amidst his soothing tone. His touches and the extra flair in his voice makes you hot all over again despite just cumming.

“I must have made you feel incredibly good, getting you to cum so hard like that. Even giving those two over there a show. Just look at them...” Shouto whispers closely, nudging you in the direction of your onlookers whose reddening faces visibly recoil when your eyes cross. It’s as if they’ve gandered into the abyss—anxious at what’s to come yet can’t seem to look away. You flutter between their expressions, gauging their blushes and furrowed brows, before lowering your gaze at the prominent stain on the crotch of their pants, pre-cum seeping at the surface due to the arousal built watching you ruined on Shouto’s very fingers.

A part of you wonders how pent up they must be. Your curiosity dances upon lewd thoughts about how stiff their cocks are and how their lengths would look freed from the constricting clothing. Veiny, hard, and painfully red all because of you. All because of what Shouto is doing to you.

It evokes you with a newfound surge of confidence, finding solace in your sea of uncertainty. And coupled with Shouto’s loving demeanor, you don’t seem to remember what you were ever so self-conscious about to begin with.

“Look at how depraved these sad men are.” Shouto clicks his tongue, a voice in his head confirming of what he already long knew. Deep down, he at least assures himself that his former classmates are aware of their place. In which they’re only allowed to look—not touch—and if they so much as plunge into forbidden territory, he’d rise above the waters to bite their heads off. He recognizes this from just a simple inspection of their faces.

Deterring after hearing Shouto’s words, Midoriya’s eyes cast downward to the floor, brows softened with hurt. His expression is burdened upon not only stigma but guilt, lusting after a woman that isn’t even his while allowing the absurd thought he could steal you away from the fire-and-ice hero to ever cross his mind.

Meanwhile, the blonde mulls over in defeat more so than shame. Although never one to yield from a fight, Bakugou had long realized this battle was over before it even began. You were deftly out of his reach. All he can settle for now is the afterimage of your undoing played back in his head, the recording surrounded by a thick cloud of envy.

Shouto reads their compliance clearly—a wordless surrender witnessing your aftermath of pleasure. As a result, a grin surfaces his lips. Unfortunately for them, the sly devil latent inside him is far satiated. Perhaps it’s time to move onto the next course.

His fingers brush along the underside of your chin, leading your half-lidded eyes to him.

“Baby,” he says, and the way he calls to you in that low baritone makes you receptive to his every word, “why don’t you go over there and help our guests get their cocks out of their pants, hm?” You nod slowly, half-wondering if he read your mind during your indecent contemplation. Shouto kisses the corner of your lip before you stand from the futon and saunter toward the two pillars of ice resting in the room.

Your steps are slow and languid, the consistent sway of your hips hypnotizing to both sides. Reaching the two, you lower to your knees, bending forward and offering Shouto a view of your exposed cunt that still drips of your essence. He bites his lip, palming his bulge through his pants until he begins freeing himself of the unnecessary clothing that would have been discarded by now if he wasn’t so absorbed in your climax.

In the meantime, you kneel in front of the top two Pro Heroes, mooning over who to approach first until your red and white-haired boyfriend answers for you.

“Midoriya first. And then Bakugou.”

You can practically feel the fire lighting inside Bakugou at the command, knowing Icy-Hot gives the order in favor of Midoriya just to get under his skin. You do well to ignore his malice by crawling over to the green-haired hero, hovering above his bound form, and meeting his emerald eyes that are wide and fixated on your every move.

The proximity between you two has the air trapped in his lungs. He holds his breath out of fear that if he lets go, you’d vanish into a mirage. But his throat hitches the very moment your fingers trace up the fabric of his pants, disembarking across his thighs and toward his painful erection that twinges at your touch. It’s fortunate enough for him that you don’t disappear and that the sultry look you give him as you drag the zipper of his pants down isn’t a figment of his imagination. You catch a glimpse of his briefs, along with the head of his dick peeking above the waistband, still strained by a single layer of fabric.

Midoriya swears he can cum right then and there when you lightly palm his hardness—the first relieving sensation he’s felt all night before it’s surmounted by you tugging down the waistband. Cock released from its confines, it jumps forward out of excitement before slapping back against his navel. Midoriya hisses at being open to the air, his feverish skin stinging surrounded by the coldness throughout the room.

As you predicted, the Number One’s cock stands stout and protruding red at being neglected for so long. It begs to be touched.

“P-Please…” The whisper is almost inaudible, but you discern the desperation in his tone.

Midoriya’s pleading expression staring down at you nearly sways you to grant pity on him, but you know you’re given no position to do that. So sadly, you move on. The hero laments you leaving so soon, a whine quietly squeaking from him, left with nothing but his length stiff on his abs as you make your way to Kacchan.

Unlike the former, the blonde actually makes an effort to free himself one last time, a struggle you pick up on when you near him. He’s gritting his teeth together, heat slowly radiating off his body stoked by his anger. Yet that somehow all dissipates at a simple glance of your face. There’s a glassiness in your eyes that renders him silent.

His narrowed stare wanders toward your plush lips, looking so damn soft and kissable. If only he could muster the willpower to break free and move forward to capture them in his own, seal them tight so he wouldn’t have to hear Icy-Hot’s name spilling out of them anymore. But your steady gaze on him freezes him into the ice, halting his motions as if you were medusa. He hears nothing but his racing heart palpitating in his chest as he waits for you to make a move.

“Hm, Bakugou’s been a bit of a brat tonight, wouldn’t you say, love? How about you tease him a bit?” Shouto suggests mischievously.

Turning in his direction, you see him sitting on the bedding, naked and stroking his cock listlessly as he waits for you. The sight encourages you back to Bakugou’s erection to finish the task you started, thighs shuffling against each other at a glimpse of your prize between the Number Three hero’s legs.

As if you couldn’t get anymore seductive, you adjust yourself right between the blonde’s spread form, carelessly brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you bend forward, back arching. Bakugou has no idea what he’s in for, fearing for the worst knowing you plan to tease him. He starts muttering a question that never reaches your ear, the words splintering off when he deftly realizes you’re pulling his pant’s zipper between your fucking teeth. Making sure never to break eye contact with him, you drag the metal down at an excruciating pace, each tooth of the zipper undone so slowly it’s practically torture to him.

“Shit... Y/n…” he groans wantonly as you reach the end of your destination. After being contained all this time, it seems his cock wants to come out with a vengeance. You gasp when it suddenly springs past his briefs, nearly making contact against your cheek.

Bakugou sputters an filthy amount of curses, finding the image of you wincing in shock and glancing up at his thick cock towering next to your face with the tip oozing of his pre-cum to be utterly pornographic. Well if this is truly reminiscent of a porn scene, you’d be wrapping your hands around the base of his cock by now, fisting it before delightfully enveloping the tip in your hot mouth. But the call of your name behind you cracks that fantasy into pieces.

To his dismay, your attention swerves from the embossed vein lining Bakugou’s dick to Shouto’s muscular body, idle on the futon, where he gestures a finger at you. You return to your usual place atop his lap, except this time there’s no longer any barrier of fabric to prevent you two from feeling each other’s heat.

Shouto grazes his hands on your back, humming into your neck. “Well, baby, you saw how hard their cocks were. How does it feel to have the top three pros all craving you at once?”

You pause amidst your reply, the little kisses he brushes on your jugular serving to distract you for a moment. You have to ask yourself if your boyfriend is throwing a trick question at you. Giving it some thought, you decide to tackle it honestly.

“It feels... pretty good,” you murmur, a tad squeamish while he maps the expanse of your neck with his lips. It’s an answer he anticipates according to the next question he follows up.

“But of all the cocks in this room, whose do you want the most?”

“Yours, Sho.” Compared to before, your answer is given promptly. Shouto grins at how eager you are for him. “Only yours.” You affirm one last time, effectively hammering a nail into Midoriya and Bakugou’s chests. Shouto’s hands traverse your waist, then to your thighs, giving your flesh a solid squeeze.

“That’s right, you’re my fucking cock slut and no one else’s.” You almost choke when he lurches forward to grind his erection against your wet core, emphasizing your innate effect on him. Whimpering at the slippery friction of his hardness on your swollen clit, you find yourself moving in tandem with his motions.

“My my, still that needy even after you already squirted all over my fingers? Your pussy is just so so greedy for me, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yes... F-Fuck, Sho, please let me put your cock inside me. I want to cum on your cock so much!” you plead, voice rising at every insufficient jerk of your hips. It isn’t enough to just rub your sensitive little pearl against it. You need the thing inside you since yesterday, and you’re more than willing to throw your last fragment of modesty out the window to get it.

Luckily for you, your neediness seems to work in your favor as Shouto has no objections at granting you your pleasure.

“Don’t worry, baby. I told you I’d be driving my cock in and out of you in front of them, didn’t I?” He runs his fingers on the edge of your cheek, admiring the cute desperation readable over your features—eyes glazed, skin hot, and cunt positively dripping. “Of course, I intend to keep that promise. But first…” He lays you two into his favored position, maneuvering your body until you’re straddling his thighs. He peers up at you while nestled back on the sheets.

“I suppose since I forced them here, the least we can do is continue giving them something to remember. It is going to be the first and last night they’ll see you like this anyway,” he reasons. The two mentioned pique hearing the statement. You yourself grow considerably hotter, realizing he’s angled you in a way that grants your audience another enticing view of your body above him.

“Well, princess, why don’t you start riding your stallion then?” Shouto incites his request as more of a command than anything else, and you begin earnestly catering to him by lifting your hips. You align his length toward your entrance. His calloused hands spread on your thighs at the anticipation of watching the head of his cock enter your wet heat.

“Ooooh yeah, keep going baby, take it all in,” he encourages through purrs reverberating in his throat. With each inch you swallow between your folds, his expression knits into pure bliss, brows narrowed at how well your tight pussy hugs his cock. He looks up and catches you slowly unraveling before his eyes. You strain to keep yourself together, eyes shut in pleasure at the delicious burn swelling in your stomach.

There’s a stifled noise parting your mouth that hangs open as you gradually envelop him to the shaft. Shouto’s thick cock slowly bottoms inside your walls and makes you feel so complete. While he lets you adjust to his sizable girth, his palms grope your skin, soothing the tense burn churning inside you.

“Mmph…” you whine, hands trying to find some leverage, laying flat on his abs. You give yourself a second, followed by another until the short pain you feel morphs into a delectable buzz.

“I… I’m going to move now, Sho,” you tell him before flitting up and down his long length, progressing tentatively. His heterochromatic eyes are dark and murky, watching his cock glisten in more of your sheen while you glide it into your pussy at a steady tempo. You make sure to take everything offered to you to the fullest, from the tip to base where his balls brush the underside of your ass. Shouto is more than endowed and you don’t ever plan on taking any part of his gift for granted.

“Mm, even after I prepped you, you’re still so tight for me,” Shouto groans, your cunt rippling waves in his body. Despite being consumed in your ministrations, you have to note how sinful he looks below you, sweat shining on his skin and tufts of red and white hair sticking to his forehead. It’s hard to believe a man as handsome as him could be so possessive with you, going through such lengths to prove to his rivals that you only belong to him. But man, do you find it to be hot. The notion once again has your cunt clenching considerably.

“It’s because—ah—you’re so th-thick,” you tell him, and in turn, he gives you a devilish smirk that adds fuel to the fire lighting in your abdomen. Before you can conjure another thought, he suddenly thrusts his hips up to meet yours, reaching a particular spongy spot that causes you to cry out.

“Why don’t we increase the pace then? Ride me faster, love. I want you to cum hard on my cock in front of them.”

Oh boy, he doesn’t have to tell you twice.

You swiftly nod, gathering some ardor in your thighs that helps you bounce more fervently on top of him. What was once subtle claps chiming in the room escalates into a concert of skins slapping against each other. Gripping your hips, Shouto meets every heavy drop with a firm thrust upward, continuing to reach the same place that induces heaven across your entire body.

Your moans are uncontained now, flittering out at how good Shouto’s cock is making you feel. The sounds are beyond intoxicating to him, like a midnight song he could get drunk on and gladly switch to repeat.

Every slam into your spread pussy steals your words away while reducing him to hissing between his teeth, your folds enshrouding him with unimaginable euphoria that has his onlookers glaring in envy.

The sight is one that Midoriya and Bakugou will surely replay throughout their wistful days after tonight. Your breasts swaying in time with your sloppy movements is a marvel to gawk at as the two implant your glazed body bouncing atop Shouto into their memories, their deluded imaginations going to work at inserting themselves into the fray.

Your hips plunging in sync at each surge of Sho’s cock has stars twinkling across your bleary vision, eyes rolling in the back of your skull. His cock penetrates you in ways no one else could, brimming your body with sublime rapture that you relay honestly in your wails.

“Fuck, you feel so good—” Shouto mutters his praises. He effortlessly keeps up his drilling and angles himself perfectly so the tip reaches your erogenous zone throughout. His hands are digging so deep into your skin, you have no doubt your hips will be daubed purple by the end of the night.

Sweat thoroughly coating his body, his aggressive rutting into your velvet walls has his cock twitching inside you. He recognizes you’re nearing your climax as well when you slowly grip him like a vise. “Gonna milk me, love? Squeeze all the cum out of me and into that slutty pussy of yours?” He asks the question through grunts he spits between his teeth, the sounds coming out on the cusp of feral growls. He’s amused by how your tongue lolls out of your mouth as you try to form any kind of response. The rampant motions make it hard for you to grasp any sense of reality other than the sensations that collide your nerves.

“Y-yes, yes! I’m so close, Sho— Please—!” The moment you have a hand on your wheel of cognition, you start begging like it’s second nature, uncaring of the other two in the room as tears dot the edges of your lashes for relief. And how is Shouto to deny you when you’re playing such a lewd act?

“Need it so bad, n-need to cum— Ah—!”

In the very next second, your body dives to where your back forcibly lands snug on the futon, choking your words to a startling puff. Shouto shadows over you, leering down like he’s sizing his prey one last time before going in for the kill.

“Hm, since you’re begging so nicely for me, I’ll gladly help you reach your bliss, baby,” he says, tongue running along his bottom lip before he resumes driving into your pussy.

He hooks his hands beneath your knees to spread you apart further, giving his cock no repercussions on pistoning forward at unbridled speeds. Your fingers delve into the sheets, gripping the cloth like it’s your lifeline. You feel your lower body slightly lifting off the bedding due to Shouto wanting you two impossibly closer, cock thundering against you.

What you’ve yet to realize—trapped within your tornado of ecstasy—is your spectators freeing themselves from the ice, glaciers reduced to pieces at their powers. The whole exhibition had been too much for them to handle, quite literally snapping their restraints. Their clothes are gone within a flash, articles of them thrown half-hazardly on the floor. It leaves nothing to stop them from finally granting some form of bliss on their neglected cocks, fisting their lengths in conjunction with your symphony of moans.

That aside, they don’t matter to you at this moment. All you have eyes for is the man above you, whose heterochromatic gaze returns your shared adoration with equal fervor, if not more so.

“Well, love, you wanna cum, right? Then you know what to do,” Shouto grunts, lowering his torso so he can close a bit of the distance between your faces, “Tell me, who’s making you feel this fucking good right now?”

Brain a scrambled mess, you’re thankful the answer you scrounge for is a simple one.

“You, Shouto! Unnf, it’s your cock that’s making me feel good!” you exclaim, your back bowing off the bed when you perceive the coil tight in your abdomen nearly about to break. Your wanton reply has him sending his satisfaction back tenfold into you through the expert rocking of his hips.

“Yesyesyes, oh fuck— Y/n, cum all over my cock! Let go, baby!”

You scream the moment the order is given, Shouto slamming into your g-spot the impetus you need to come undone in violent spasms. Firecrackers spark beneath your skin at the ecstasy hitting your every nerve. Seeing you reach the apex of your high—eyes lidded and limbs trembling as you throw your entire body into the sheets—encourages Shouto toward his release, pumping himself in and out of your fluttering walls.

“Fuck! Y/n!” he pants raggedly before snapping his hips in place, dick twitching inside you. A gasp rips your throat as you feel his thick ribbons of white cum fill you to the brim. Shouto remains inside you for a good minute longer, hovering over your sluggish, sweaty body to seize your lips in his while you two slowly descend from heaven. You move sweetly and slowly against him, savoring the moment in the presence of his tender loving.

Meanwhile, Midoriya and Bakugou have already blown their loads all over themselves, creamy spurts painting their skin. They lean back to find their groundings, unable to even speak after what was surely an excruciating event for them both.

You’re still unsure how to go about confronting the aftermath of it all, deciding to only imbed your eyes onto Shouto due to the embarrassment that starts simmering in your mind now that you’ve come down from your highs. Your fingers rise to swipe a few stray strains of damp red-and-white hair off your boyfriend’s forehead, murmuring something kept between the two of you.

“Going through all of this just because you were jealous? You sure are insatiable, Sho.”

He chuckles at the jest behind your words, giving the other Pro Heroes a once over before he comes back to you with a satisfied grin plastered on his face, making you question whether his devilish tendencies have truly left him after tonight.

“What can I say? I guess I just want to monopolize you, baby.”

#bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha smut #todoroki smut #todoroki shouto x reader #bnha imagine #bnha fic #todoroki fic #todoroki imagine #tw coercion

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ava-achlys · 3 years

Text

The Boyz NSFW Scenarios

Sohn Youngjae (Eric) - Kiss Me If You Can

Eric x fem! reader

Warnings: thigh fucking, unprotected sex, unrequited feelings, angst, smoking (just a lil bit sorry)

Everyone in this story is of age, let's just say you're a tad older than Eric. And yeah, can you tell I have a thing for shy Eric? I hope I didn't make it too OOC though. Also if you don't like smoking you can pretend you're just having a drink or something, I just felt like including it.

Eric had a crush on his sister's best friend. Little did he know the girl of his (wet) dreams would surprise him.

Your best friend's parents were out of town for the weekend, and she was left in charge of taking care of their house. Naturally, you were invited to stay for a sleepover, and you were excited, picking out cute outfits and games to bring with you. It's been a while since you got to hang out at their place, and you were looking forward to movie night and chilling in pajamas all day.

You ring the doorbell and a mop of pink hair greets you at the door. You blink in surprise before engulfing the boy in a tight hug. "Eric! You keep growing every time I see you~" you coo, ruffling his already messy pink hair. Eric blushes, his cheeks turning the color of his hair as he rubs the back of his neck shyly. "It's good to see you too, noona," he smiles, before yelling for his sister. The moment she came down to greet you, he ducked upstairs, uncharacteristically shy and quiet.

You hug your best friend and ask her if Eric's okay. She rolls her eyes and chuckles "He's just going through a late puberty I guess." You tilt your head, slightly confused, but you let the topic go, opting to ask about it again later. You head upstairs to her room to unpack your things, noticing that Eric's door was shut.

You two go about your day, catching up while you waited for your lunch order to be delivered. You had offered to pay for everyone's lunch, including Eric's which caused your friend to whine, saying having Eric around was going to ruin your fun. You brushed her off. Eric was a good kid, albeit a tad boisterous. Maybe he just had a lot on his mind, and you were determined to help him out. You go upstairs to tell him the food was here, but his door was locked and his music was turned up to the max.

You knocked loudly for a while, when suddenly the music stops, and you hear his feet shuffling. He opens the door a crack, his hair even messier than before, looking flushed and out of breath. "W-what is it noona?" He stammered. You smile at him, telling him his food had arrived and he was welcome to join you at the table. He gulped and nodded, saying he'd be down in a few before slamming the door shut. Again, you were confused. Did you do something wrong? You shake your head gently and go back downstairs, where your friend had already started eating her food, looking at you like a deer in headlights, and apologising around a mouthful of food. You just chuckle and start eating too.

Finally Eric arrives, padding softly to the table, dressed in an oversized sweatsuit and fuzzy unicorn slippers. You internally coo at how adorable he looks, and you can't help but reach out a hand to ruffle his locks. He beams at you as he thanks you for the food, and he digs right in. You naturally pull him into the conversation, and just like old times, all three of you are having a loud conversation, mainly the two siblings bickering and you laughing at their antics. You catch Eric's eyes and they're sparkling with joy and you're happy that he's comfortable around you again.

Evening rolls around and you get ready for a movie night with your best friend. You decide to watch the movie in her room, since she wants to try out her new projector. You change into a thin tank top, cute lacy panties and some loose pajama shorts. Your friend wolf whistles at your outfit, and you chuck a pillow at her, finally settling down to watch a new horror movie. You curl up under the blankets, shrieking and hugging each other during the jumpscares.

Eric hides away in his room after dinner, his head in his hands. He's slightly disappointed with himself, having dyed his hair your favorite shade of pink, and you hadn't said a word about it all day. Not to mention you nearly caught him jacking off before lunch. He splays out on his bed, hearing you yelp in fear from the next room, thinking about how he'd hold you close and protect you, even if he too was scared of the movie. He lets his imagination wander, thinking about how nice it would be to cuddle with you, to hold your warm hands, to rest his cheek against your hair.

Eric groans into a pillow. You never saw him as more than a kid, just your best friend's little brother, he thinks bitterly. He was glad that you bothered to include him in your activitties earlier that day, because he adored every moment spent with you. Your laugh, your smile, the way you'd pat his head affectionately. You were always so sweet to him, and he didn't want to risk this friendship. He'll take this secret to the grave, and he swears he'll try to behave as normally as possible tomorrow. For now, he decides to head downstairs for a glass of water, realising his throat was dry.

He tiptoes past his sister's room, and it's quiet, save for his sister's snoring. He's surprised that you two fell asleep so easily despite just finishing a horror movie. He shrugs and continues downstairs when he stops dead in his tracks. You were looking out the kitchen window, smoking a cigarette, your beautiful features illuminated by the soft moonlight. His throat runs even drier when he realises you're just in your lacy panties and a thin tanktop that left little to the imagination.

He gulps audibly and you turn to see him standing in the kitchen doorway, stock still. He's about to bolt back upstairs when you call his name, grabbing his wrist. He turns slowly back to you, keeping his eyes firmly on your bunny slippers. "Why are you still up, Eric?" Your soft voice snaps you out of his reverie. "J-just wanted to get some water, don't mind me," he chuckled weakly. You grow concerned, and watched him as he waddled to the fridge, downing some cold water hurriedly. He chokes on the liquid in his haste, and you rush to help him.

He stiffens as your rub your warm hands up and down his back soothingly. He bites his lips to suppress the moan bubbling in his throat, mentally willing his raging hard-on to go back down before you noticed it. "Mmmh, I'm fine, noona, t-thank you," he mumbles. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, chastising him gently. "Be careful, Eric, that could have been dangerous," you murmured. Time seemed to stop as you both stood there in silence, your nails pleasantly caressing his scalp, and he leans into your touch. You hum as you played with his pink locks.

"I forgot to mention, you look gorgeous with this pink hair. Did you know it's my favorite shade of pink?" Eric blushes again, shaking his head, pretending he didn't know. He looks down at your lips, curved into a sweet smile just for him. "You're gorgeous, noona, can I kiss you please?" He breathes, not realising he said that out loud. His eyes widen in shock as he hears his voice betray his thoughts, slapping a hand over his mouth. You're dazed, late realization hitting you like a truck. His shyness, the locked door, messy hair, panting, and the awkward walking. Speaking of which, you glance down to see a tent in his sweatpants, and you gulp nervously.

Eric looks like he's about to cry and run away again, but you hold his hand, pulling it away from his mouth. You look into his eyes and cup his red cheeks. "Do you mean it? Do you want to kiss me?" you ask him gently. He nods slowly, shutting his eyes tight. You lean in and gently press your lips against his, eliciting a shaky moan from the boy as he nervously grips your waist. You kiss him deeply and slowly, licking into his mouth everytime he moaned. His tongue pressed against yours, and you keen at how the cold metal of his tongue piercing rubs against your lips.

You stood there, making out sweetly, when he picks you up and sits you on the counter, slotting himself between your legs. Finally you two pull apart and he rests his forehead against yours, breathing deeply. "That was..." you trail off, unsure of what to say. "-better than anything I ever dreamed of," Eric finishes, his hands fidgeting with the hem of your top. A smile creeps onto your face, and you decide to tease him. "Yeah? What else did you dream about me, baby?" Eric's breath stutters at the pet name, and he sinks down so your pussy was at his eye level, his warm hands rubbing your thighs.

You look down at him, panties getting wet with excitement. "Shall I show you noona?" He exhales, his index finger barely grazing the wet patch on your panties. His mind was running a thousand miles an hour, blood pounding in his ears. Was he about to ruin this friendship? He was about to back out and apologise but when you nodded yes, he dived right in. He kissed your folds through your panties and nudged your throbbing clit with his nose, causing you to moan. Your thighs start shaking from the anticipation and he pulls your panties off, mouth watering at the sight of your glistening pussy.

He leans back down and starts licking up your folds, sucking harshly on your clit. He laps hungrily at your pussy, sticking his tongue into your hole every now and then. You mewl at the feeling, grabbing his pink locks and he moans at the sweet taste of your juices and the way you pull his hair. His hot breath on your most sensitive parts sends shivers down your spine and you yelp when he reaches up to grab at your breasts as he continued to make out with your cunt. He thumbs your hard nipples as he fucks his tongue into you, spit and pussy juices running down his chin.

You push his face deeper into you and your other hand is clamped over your mouth, barely concealing your delightful whimpers and moans. Eric revels in your sounds, chest swelling with pride at how good he's making you feel. "I'm so close, baby," you mumble, and he shoves two fingers into you as he sucks and laps at your clit. He pumps his fingers into you as his other hand massages your tit, and you're going crazy with all the stimulation. A few more thrusts of his fingers is all it takes before you're clenching on his digits, thighs shaking as you ride your orgasm out, as Eric rubs and kisses your thighs.

You lean back onto the counter, panting harshly, as Eric slowly pulls his fingers out, staring at the glistening digits before putting them in his mouth. He sucks them clean, moaning at the taste of your cum, and leans over you to capture your lips, making you taste yourself. He nuzzles your neck and grinds his hard cock on your thigh through his sweats. You want to return the favor, but you don't have any condoms. "Can I... can I fuck your thighs please noona?" Eric bashfully asks, and you want to kiss him breathless again at how innocent he looks, asking permission for such a filthy thing.

You pull him close and he takes that as a yes, pulling down his sweats that had a wet patch on the front from all his leaking precum. You eye his impressive length, teasing him for not wearing any underwear. "It's as if you were planning this the whole time, huh, cutie?" He smiles at the new petname, but shakes his head no. He definitely hadn't planned on fucking you on the kitchen counter tonight, but the universe has its ways of making his wettest dreams come true, apparently. He gathers a mix of the slick from your throbbing pussy and the precum off his aching cock and slathers your inner thighs with it, before pressing them together.

He slots his cock between your smooth thighs and he groans at the feeling. He immediately starts thrusting his hips, his balls slamming into the back of your thighs. You know your legs are going to be bruised the next morning with how hard he's gripping your flesh, but you were starting to enjoy being manhandled and used by someone younger than you, who you never really considered more than a kid. Here he was, proving you wrong, and you loved every single moment of it. He watches as your tits bounce with every snap of his hips and he's starting to go cross-eyed with pleasure. You reach up to pull his hair again, knowing how much he likes it. Soon enough, he cums all over your torso, milky white fluid splattering across your heaving chest and tummy.

He rocks slowly to a stop and pulls out his softening dick from your thighs. You pull him in for another kiss, a gentle one this time, as you quietly thank him for showing you a good time. He helps clean you up in silence and you both head back upstairs, sharing one last kiss before going into seperate bedrooms before your friend wakes up and suspects anything. Eric falls asleep with his heart full and he can't wait to share more moments like that with you. Morning comes quickly and Eric joins you both for breakfast, and then spends most of the day with you again. He basks in the extra attention you shower him with, happy to make you laugh and sharing food and cuddles on the couch.

All too soon it's time for you to go home and Eric pulls you aside to speak privately. He plays with your fingers nervously as he stammers out an invitation to a picnic date the next weekend. You chuckle, pulling your hands out of his grasp and ruffle his hair the way he likes it. "I don't think so, baby. You're cute and all, and I had a lot of fun last night, but this-" you gesture between the two of you, "-can't be a thing. You're my best friend's little brother. I'm sorry cutie. But I'll see you next week, alright?" You kiss him on the cheek and pat it apologetically, before grabbing your things and heading off to your car.

Eric balls his hands into fists tightly, eyes shimmering with tears, a bitter taste left in his mouth as he watches you drive off. He can't breathe and it feels like he just got stabbed in the chest. He should have known it was too good to be true. And the worst part is: if you ever decide to ask him for another night like that, he wouldn't dare say no. He'd please you forever if you asked him to; never mind the bleeding hole in his heart. He'd do anything to bring you happiness, even if it meant sacrificing his own.

A/N: I wrote this off the top of my head and it's unedited, so please forgive me for any errors, I'll come back to edit soon or even change the title. Also please forgive me for hurting our sweet baby Youngjae 🙏🏽😭

#achlys: tbz imagines #eric smut #eric sohn smut #the boyz #the boyz smut #the boyz eric smut

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vexx97 · 3 years

Text

A BIRTHDAY TO REMEMBER

Part 1: A Fox Comes for a Little Bunny

Miya Atsumu x reader

Tw: various pet name, cucking, daddy kink(mentioned once), breath play, breeding kink, and cockwarming

wc: 1313

@toonpai here is part 1 love

"The two names you get, get to fuck you for a night but I get to watch."

The words echoed in your mind as you stared at your boyfriend, his face as serious as if he were in a match but his eyes hosted a hunger to watch you be devoured. Lifting the hat to you once again you hesitantly reached in and fumbled with the paper. “You don’t have to take them both at once, in fact I want to see them ruin you themselves.” A shiver runs down your spine as heat pools in your belly at the thought. Silently you nod your head and pull out two scrapes of paper, Bokuto takes them from your hands reading them over before a large grin comes to his face. “ Looks like you picked Tsum-Tsum and the captain bunny!”

Slowly you allow the words to sink in, looking over at Bokuto you see that the hunger in his gaze has only gotten stronger. A large hand slides over your waist as he pulls you close to him, using his other hand he gently grips your jaw lifting your face to meet his in a soft slow kiss. Pulling away he sees the haze of your submission creep over your face, “Pretty girl, why don’t you go take a hot bath and get ready for Tsumu while I call him over.” Humming you nod your head before slowly pulling away from his chest to pad your way to your shared bathroom. Bokuto has to readjust himself in his sweats after watching the gentle sway of your hips as you walk, ‘fuck’ he thinks the power you hold over him is probably more then he could ever dream of having over you.

Picking up his phone he calls Atsumu telling him that you picked his name and to come over to play. Before they even hang up the phone Atsumu is scrambling to get ready, having just got out of a shower himself he quickly pulls on a loose training shirt and a pair of sweats. Forgoing underwear as he’s not going to have them on for very long. The drive from his place to yours and Bokuto’s shared apartment takes him less time then usual, the excitement of finally fucking into your pretty cunt overwhelming. Bokuto greets his friend at the door welcoming him in with his usual cheery greeting.

“Okay Tsumu here’s how we’re doing this, everything is fair game but I will be watching on the side.” Feeling satisfied that his friend didn’t put up a fuss at his condition he leads him to the bedroom, “Oh and one more thing Tsum-Tsum,” turning to face the blond man he says his final words loud and clear, “make sure you fill her up nice and full.” With that he turns and opens the door to the bedroom humming when he sees you kneeling at the foot of the bed, having opted to stay naked. Bokuto places a soft kiss on your forehead before whispering how good you are. Gesturing to Atsumu he gives the all clear before sitting on the small couch in the room, legs spread wide as he palms over his half-hard cock.

Atsumu has to take a deep breath to compose himself. Because here you are on your knees, legs spread far enough apart where he can see your already glistening cunt. Soft breasts on display bouncing gently with every breath coming from your parted lips, a deep blush washed over your cheeks and down over your chest. Remembering Bokuto’s words of everything is fair game he stalks over to your flushed form, warm hands trail over the curves of your body squeezing over the soft flesh before finally leaning down capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

Pulling away he starts trailing hot wet kisses down your neck, skilled fingers rolling over your nipples till they harden. “Fuck princess, you really are so perfect.” Guiding you to lay on you back he moves one hand to grasp your throat while the other moves to play with your wet slit. You whimper hands tangling in blond locks urging him to kiss too again, “Tsumu~ ah please.” You grkk in me against his hand desperately needing more friction to your sensitive clit. Chuckling he places a quick kiss on the corner of your mouth, “Ya know I wanted this ta last but with yer beggin I don't think I'll last.”

Two thick fingers fill your cunt stretching your walls to prepare for the heavy cock he's so ready to give you. Tears bead your lash line as you grasp his wrist stopping his hand from moving, “Tsumu need it need your cock.” Taking a deep breath he pulls away from you completely, quickly stripping his clothes and crawling between your splayed thighs. Looking over at Bokuto, Atsumu finds his friend hosting a deep blush across his chest pants pooled at his ankles as his cock stands thick and leaking over his stomach. Turning his gaze back to you he quickly decided to flip you over gripping your hair he pulled you to his chest forcing you to look over at your boyfriend.

“Look at him, see what you've done with all that begging.” Atsumu’s words cause you to moan at the sight of Bokuto making your dripping hole clench around nothing. Slowly Atsumu drags his own cock through your folds, flushed head catching your clit. The gentle rocking of his hips continues till you whine, pitched and needy with the need to be filled. The hand that was in your hair winds its way back around your throat before he shealths himself to the hilt within the warm walls of your cunt.

A loud moan rips from your throat at the sudden intrusion, “Eyes forward princess I want you to watch him come undone at your slutty hole being bred.” Even through the small tears that have started to fall you could see Bokuto’s eyes roll at Atsumu’s words. A rough yet steady pace was set, and with every slap of his hips against your ass a choked moan and whimper of his name fell from your lips.

“Nng Tsu- ah Tsumu I gotta I need-” he chuckles knowing what you need, a wet slap from his hand hitting your cunt echoes as your body convulses from pain. “What does the pretty puppy need to cum? Want to show your daddy how good you are.” You whine nodding furiously. Leaning close he whispers in your ear, “Then cum, now.” Your body tenses as the rope snaps, walls guttering around him as his pace remains steady riding out your orgasm.

Bokuto furiously strokes his cock in time with Atsumu’s thrusts, feeling his balls tighten seeing you come undone around someone else. With a loud groan he cums, thick ropes coating his chest and stomach. Watching intently as Atsumu reaches his end, filling your abused cunt with his cum.

Standing Bokuto sheds his pants from around his ankles and walks over to the bed just as Atsumu slowly pulls out of your tired body. Patting your hair Atsumu whispers a happy birthday before kissing your cheek, getting up he quickly dressed before waving to Bokuto as he leaves. “You did so well pretty girl, always so good for me.” Humming at the praise you then whine as two fingers stuff the cum that's sliding out back into your warm cunt. Soft kisses are littered over your face as Bokuto turns you to your side and pulls you to his chest.

A soft cry leaves you as he slides his still hard cock into your swollen pussy, “Shh bunny it's ok I’m not going to fuck you, just wanna keep you full.” A quiet reasurrence given as a warm hand strokes up your side, “Sleep now pretty girl you have another big day tomorrow.”

Masterlist: https://vexx97.tumblr.com/post/660464471789207552/a-birthday-to-remember

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #bokuto koutaro #bokuto x reader #tw cucking #tw cockwarming #tw breath play #tw breeding kink #tw daddy #tw pet names #vexx writes

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namfinessed · 3 years

Text

a lil bad - m.yg.

genre: fluff, angst (11.3k) e2l

summary: you hate min yoongi the most so how the fuck do you end up in his tattoo shop? (fools!universe)

masterlist series masterlist

you don’t know how it happens in every single party, but you always end up next to yoongi, grumbling and complaining but still with him beside you and even after several incidents of pouring drinks on each other and pretending it was a mistake, or just plain insulting each other right to your faces, or ruining dates for the other by fake flirting, you always end up next to him.

you never really understood your hatred for min yoongi, but it’s always been there, whenever you see him, you always either leave the room to not be around him at all or you start bickering with him until the day ends, it’s usually always the latter, he knows just how to rile you up, he knows just what to say to piss you right off, and you always give in to his stupid arguments.

and apparently, even right now, with all your friends dancing and enjoying themselves, you stand in the corner while idly mixing your drink slowly, and it takes everything in you to not roll your eyes when yoongi catches your eye across the room and starts his making his way over to you.

“what are you doing here, doll?” he asks, hands in pockets, his ever-present smirk settled nicely on his face, the nickname that falls from his mouth makes you roll your eyes, he’s been calling you that forever, no matter how many times you’ve complained and hit him for it.

you notice his tattoos peeking from the collar of his leather jacket which mirrors the one on your body. it is hard to not do a full head to toe scan when yoongi manages to look this good even as he’s half drunk.

you hate him but you’re not blind, you know that he is attractive and he knows it too, he knows it all too well.

“none of your goddamn business, min yoongi, get back to your friends.” your bitter reply is no surprise to him and that becomes evident with how he laughs at you and pulls himself up on the table you were resting on, looking down at you with pure amusement dancing in his eyes.

“they’re shit drunk, and i don’t want to deal with anyone vomiting all over me” he shrugs as he takes another swig and you turn to look at his friends who were falling over each other and laughing for no reason at all.

somewhere in you, you know that he’s lying, he wouldn’t mind if his friends vomit over him, he wouldn’t care even when he’s going to be the one who will drive them home after this and make sure that they’re safe but yoongi doesn’t need to know that you know about him.

“such a good friend” you dryly muse and walk away from him, only for him to jump off the table and follow you, you stop in your steps and he does too, making you grit your teeth and look at him with an evident glare in your eyes.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

“none of your goddamn business, doll.”

yeah, you hate him. you take back every nice thought you’ve ever had about him.

he gives you an innocent smile and it takes everything in you to not strangle him. you swiftly turn the other way and speed walk till you’re outside the house, taking a deep breathe now that you’re free from the obnoxious people and music. just when you stretch your legs out to settle there for a bit, you see someone barging their way out, almost hitting your arm, you turn to curse them out just to see jimin come out from the same way, following the previous person.

you only know jimin because he works in namjoon’s bakery, and he’s in one of your classes, you’re friendly enough to greet each other but that’s it, so when you see him fighting with the person who barged out first, and the fight showing no signs of calming down, you roll your eyes at how stupid they sound, why can’t they just kiss already? you can literally feel the sexual tension in the air and they seem to be in absolute denial about it, but deciding that it was best to leave them alone, you unwillingly tip toe your way back into the house.

the party is still raging and loud and you can’t really distinguish who is who anymore, so you just push your way through the crowd, murmuring excuse me’s and curses to people who push you, only to find yourself in the living room where all your friends are gathered. they immediately perk up at your entrance, drunk smiles gleaming even in the darkness and you hate to admit that you sense some mischief in the air.

“i was looking for you, come here, sit down” jennie smiles as soon as she sees you and pats the seat next to her, you hesitantly sit and warily eye the bottle in the middle of the circle you’re sat at.

“what’s going on here?”

“we’re playing spin the bottle because we literally have nothing left to do” jisoo complains from opposite to you and you throw your head back with a groan, at the corner of your eye, you see yoongi walk in with his own friends and you don’t even want to look up again.

“how bored are you guys?” you complain but get comfortable in your seat anyway, it’s not like you were any less bored than they were.

“just say you’re too much of a wimp to play and leave already.” yoongi’s voice is crystal clear even with the loud music and everyone starts ooh’ing at his sentence, all of them were already used to your endless bickering and they always act like they know something you both don’t, you never cared enough to ask them anyway. you rolled your eyes before setting them on him with a bored expression.

“you’re still standing min yoongi, so who’s the real wimp here?” and now, everyone’s ooh’ing at you, he looks up at you with the same smirk that always annoys you and cocks an eyebrow before sitting directly in front of you, then pins you with only challenge clear in his eyes.

“okay, so the rules are pretty simple.” you look away from him and focus on listening to chaeyoung as she explains what exactly are the set rules.

“so when we spin the bottle, the people at the ends of the bottle either kiss each other or one of them gets to give a dare to the other, and the other cannot refuse” jisoo smiles at you as she plays with the bottle in her hand and you know what’s going on in her little head, she’s always been convinced that you have a crush on yoongi but you were close to vomiting on her when she told you that, she hasn’t backed down though and if you know her, she’s probably thinking this is some magical way to get you to kiss yoongi but you would jump into a well before that happens.

“the only person i want to kiss in this room is you” yoongi wears a wide, confident grin as he points to the random girl he’s been talking up since the beginning of the party and you watch with raised eyebrows as she blushes and buries her face into his shoulder.

poor girl, you wince to yourself.

and yoongi’s drinking up the affection, cooing at her and wrapping his arm around her shoulder, not letting her go even as the bottle spins speedily and lands on taehyung and some girl you’ve seen around the campus, you have never really looked at her but she does seem a little out of place in the party, and you make a note to yourself to talk to her later, you hate that feeling of being isolated and you wouldn’t want her to feel that way.

everyone watches them with excited and curious eyes, taehyung has a huge smile on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows at the girl who looks like she wants to run away, but then taehyung reaches over and whispers something into her ear and everyone erupts into cheers when he reaches for his hoodie on the floor and drops it on their heads, the hoodie comes off to reveal one flushed face and taehyung who is positively beaming. though the kiss is over, at least you assume it is over, everyone’s gaze lingers on the quiet girl who all but is biting on her lip and averting her gaze to the floor.

“stop making her uncomfortable and spin the bottle already” you say plainly as you leaned back on your hands, you could tell she wanted anything but attention, she just had a stiff posture and this was clearly new for her, so you decided to help her out. she flashed you a quick grateful look and you gently smile at her.

and the bottle kept spinning, most opted for the kisses, and each time someone would kiss, the entire room would be chaos, with people whooping and waving their hands, you bury your head into your hands each time that happens because you can’t believe most of these people are well in their 20’s and are still this excited over seeing their peers kiss but you enjoy the energy in the air, it’s familiar and being around your friends is something you’re always grateful for.

“wait wait yoongi didn’t spin the bottle” lisa points out along with chaeyoung and they both have happy smirks on their faces as everyone nods in agreement, soon cheering him on to spin it already and yoongi surrenders with raised hands.

the bottle spins and you hold your breath because you would do anything to not be at the other end of it.

you exhale in relief when it lands on who yoongi wanted it to land on, the girl who’s been around him all night, he just looks at her with a smile and she leans forward with sparkling eyes, and you look away just when the sound of smacking lips fills the air, immediately everyone starts shouting and that’s when you understand that maybe the kiss wasn’t innocent at all, you almost do a double take when you hear a silent moan in midst of all the chaos, looking back when the shouts die down to see the girls with pink cheeks and yoongi who had a proud smile on his face.

and you don’t know why, but at that moment, your annoyance for him touches the roof.

maybe because he was oozing confidence always?

maybe because it sounded like he was an incredible kisser?

maybe because he’s got someone blushing right next to him with just a kiss?

you don’t know and frankly you also don’t understand why you stand up from the circle right then, everyone’s eyes lands on you and you shift on your feet, you hate attention, and you particularly hate yoongi who immediately looks at you standing.

“i just need a refill, i will be back, you guys play” you gesture towards the kitchen and leave the living room with fast steps, you only let out a breath of relief once you’re in the kinda empty kitchen, it still has like 10 people but not one of them gives a fuck about you, which is exactly what you need.

you spot the tequila bottles but they are empty, making you groan out loud in frustration and you want to throw a chair into the window, because how the fuck do these people drink so fast? last time you were here, there were 10 huge, full bottles and they’re just gone now.

“fucking great” you mumble and squeeze your eyes shut as you lean back on the counter.

you don’t even want to go back to the circle and see yoongi’s face or the girl that he’s with who seems to blush about everything like who’s going to tell her that yoongi will probably drop her in a week?

you stomp your way back to the living room, and sit down with a huff, not looking at anyone, just letting the game continue around you and zoning out until someone asks you something.

your eyes don’t leave the bottle in the middle of the circle, staring as it spins and claims its victims, and you only snap out of your thoughts when jennie nudges you, you are a little startled when she pushes the bottle into your hand with a small smile.

“it’s your turn, spin it” she gently instructs, and you almost just want to cuddle her and go to sleep because she’s always been so nice to you and maybe it’s because you’re half-drunk and you’re mildly irritated by everything, but you feel so grateful to her soft voice.

but her words also make you pause, it’s your turn after god knows how many turns and you want to skip it, there’s no one in this room that you want to kiss.

“see, i told you, she’s a wimp” you glare up at yoongi as he stares you down, and with a grumble, you snatch the bottle from jennie’s hands and give it one rough spin. you silently pray that it lands on anyone but yoongi.

your heart almost pauses when it seems to slow down near yoongi, but then it tilts right at the last second, you feel lighter as you look up to see jisoo at the other end of the bottle, who has a cheeky smile on her face, you lean back with your won smile because you could just kiss her, it’s no big deal.

“so, kiss?” you raise your eyebrows at her and she narrows her eyes at you playfully, looking you up and down and you giggle at her fake horny expression.

“as much as i love kissing, i have a dare for you.” you eye her cautiously as she says this, why isn’t she just opting for the kiss?

“i’m not stripping down naked if that’s what you’re going to say” you deadpan, to lighten the tension in the room and everyone laughs, taking swigs of their drinks and someone yells party pooper.

“why can’t we just kiss and get it over with?” you whined when she stayed silent and jisoo shook her head happily as everyone’s ears and eyes focused on what would leave jisoo’s mouth, she smirks a little at their enthusiasm and your slightly scared expression.

“the dare is” she pauses for dramatics and you throw the bottle cap at her making her jump and giggle.

“okay okay, the dare is, you have to get a tattoo in yoongi’s shop by yoongi, he gets to choose which one too.”

she did not.

“i’m sorry, did i hear you right?” you leaned forward with a cocked eyebrow because jisoo wouldn’t do this to you.

right?

“i’ll go easy with the needle on you, doll” yoongi chuckles from his spot.

“shut the fuck up, min yoongi” you snarl at him and fix your gaze on jisoo again as she shrugs with a delighted smile on her face.

“hey, i could just kick you out from my store, you know that right?” you ignore his words with a roll of your tongue against your cheek and run a hand through your hair, this is far from how you wanted your night to go.

“are you going to back off from a dare, y/n?” chaeyoung raises her eyebrows at you and it feels like thye’ve definitely planned this shit from the start but the mocking in her tone doesn’t allow you to say no.

“fucking hell, i’ll do it.” you give in because again, you are never one to back off from a challenge. even if you’re really scared of needles, you can do this.

“who said i’m doing it for you?” he questions with narrowed eyes and everyone in the room breaks into scattered giggles.

“i’ll give you a month y/n, convince him and get it done.” jisoo says, triumph clear in her face and tone as she calmly hands the bottle to its next victim.

again, this isn’t how you wanted your night to go.

convincing yoongi, as it turns out, was the hardest thing you have ever tried to do, and you take history in college.

not only is he insanely stubborn, but it also feels like he seriously gets off from pissing you off every single time, because the minute you start to get somewhere with convincing him, he would say something stupid, you would curse him out and you’re back to square one with your mission.

it’s been a week since the party and you’ve got no progress on him.

“okay, i can do this, it’s just stupid yoongi” you encourage yourself lightly by tapping your shoulders in butterfly position, because there’s nothing else that calms you down from the inevitability of having to talk to him.

you’re not sure why you are doing so much for a dare, but it feels like this is the chance to prove to your friends that the only feelings you have for yoongi is hatred, you cannot have them thinking you like him when even the thought of him annoys you to the core.

but you’re still here, with a bag of tempura shrimp and fried rice because apparently that’s his favorite food, and as the old saying goes, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.

now, if you were reached his heart, you would probably rip it out but you’re doing what you can to get the dare over with. you ring the bell and stand back, but nothing prepares you for the sight in front of you.

a girl in just a t-shirt, most probably yoongi’s, who’s definitely not his girlfriend.

didn’t they say the girl at the party became his girlfriend afterwards?

well, at least the girl looks just as surprised as you do, and she even starts getting teary eyed and that’s when you realized what this looks like, you brought him food, pretty early in the morning, you’re dressed up well because you just like to look good, and she could be assuming that she just slept with a taken man.

“doll, is that you?” yoongi’s voice comes from behind her and you grit your teeth in annoyance at his presence.

wait, where the fuck is his shirt?

you immediately avert your gaze from his bare skin and look at the girl in front of you who’s trembling, why the fuck did he call you doll with her right beside him?

“look, i know what this looks like but i’m not his girlfriend, i honestly hate him the most out of everyone i know, so you two are still fine, and gosh just wipe those tears please, i hate making people cry” you mumble the last part as the girl sniffles and nod while wiping the tears off her cheek, yoongi coos behind her and gives her a small kiss to the top of her head which makes her grin again.

he has a girlfriend, what is he doing?

you try so hard to hide the deep scowl on your face as you watch the sickeningly sweet exchange in front of you and tap your feet impatiently as you wait for them to finish.

“come in” yoongi says simply and disappears down the hallway with the girl, and you step in sheepishly, you look around the apartment and it’s surprisingly cleaner than you thought it would be, not knowing what to do with both of them gone, you enter the kitchen and plop down on a stool.

“i’ll call you later okay” you hear yoongi whisper and you slam your head on the table in front of you because that is a very sad attempt at a whisper, his whisper is loud as fuck, and it travels all the way to you, and you’re not a liar, his voice sounds hot, it’s husky, low and if someone whispers to you like that, you know that you will melt into a puddle.

you also hear the loud smack of a kiss and it takes everything in you to keep your ass planted on the stool and not run away from here.

the girl appears near the doorway of the kitchen and gives you a bright and happy wave, you wave back at her because as much as her tears surprised you, she still seemed friendly.

“so, what’s in that bag?” yoongi walks into the kitchen, thankfully with a shirt on, and you place the bag on the counter, not saying anything and letting him look through by himself.

“tempura shrimp and fried rice, are you trying to get me to ask you out?” yoongi chuckled as he pulled out the boxes and you frown at his statement.

“don’t flatter yourself” you mumble and pick your phone up to scroll as he sits down to eat, you notice him place a plate in front of you and look up in confusion.

“go on, serve yourself, i’m not doing that for you.” he gestures to the boxes with a wave of his hand.

“this is for you, more precisely for the tattoo.”

“i know doll, just eat the food.” if you aren’t wrong, you can hear some disappointment in his voice and he doesn’t even look at you as he says that, so you just shrug and take a box to fill half your plate with the food and continue to glance at him weirdly from time to time.

this feels strangely domestic, there is nothing but silence as you two eat but for once, you don’t want to strangle him to death, he doesn’t say shit to piss you off either, and the silence is comfortable, you thought it would be awkward to be in his apartment but you don’t feel that way at all.

“i’m still not doing your tattoo” yoongi says and the door shuts in your face as you stand outside his apartment with mouth agape and slumped shoulders.

then why was he being all nice just 10 minutes ago?

you kick the door with your foot and huff out in frustration because you really cannot think of anything else that could convince him.

what are you going to do now?

what could you possibly do now?

wait a minute.

his girlfriend.

“jisoo, are you sure that the girl from the party is still his girlfriend?” you almost yell into the phone to try and make your voice heard even with the loud traffic beside you and jisoo winces from the sound.

“yes, i’m sure, she was bragging about it in class today” you can hear how annoyed jisoo sounds though the phone and bingo!

you know just how to get yoongi to do your tattoo.

you get drowned in your own assignments the following week and don’t bother to look for yoongi, and honestly, you forget about the dare until your dear friends remind you at lunch when you were just trying to peacefully eat your food.

and you don’t even see yoongi around the campus anymore, he doesn’t even show up to the one class you have in common, but his attendance is obviously taken care of because of his friends who work in student council, you’re not going to lie, you are jealous of that, you would kill to miss some classes and still have your attendance intact.

“hey seokjin, wait up!” you spot yoongi’s friend down the hallway and you don’t really care that you literally look like a homeless person with your hoodie and loose shorts, you didn’t run all the way across campus to care about how you look, you need to know where the fuck min yoongi is so you can blackmail him and just finish the dare.

“hello y/n” he faintly smiles while sipping his coffee, how does he still look good when he’s tired though? if it weren’t for the fact that he was taken, you would definitely try to get with him but your chance is over. you feel a little self-conscious with your less than appropriate outfit and his polished look, but that shouldn’t be your concern right now.

“where is yoongi? he hasn’t been coming to classes.”

“why do you want to know? don’t you hate him?” he narrows his eyes at you and you slump a little, how many people knew of the fact that you hate each other? it’s not like you can blame them, you both fight in full parties, word is bound to travel.

“i do, i just have something to ask him.”

“is it really important?” he fixes you with a more serious look and you almost feel nervous before clearing your throat and nodding fiercely.

“yes, it is.”

“he’s been hanging out at our friend’s music studio for a while now, you can find him there, i’ll text you the address” and with that, jin blends into the crowd of people around you while you stay frozen.

what does yoongi do in a music studio? you wonder silently with your head tilted as you walk to your next class.

maybe you don’t know him as well as you thought you did.

the music studio wasn’t too far away your campus, and you could walk there even with your heavy backpack, you huff once you reach the run-down building, staring at it with curiosity filled in your eyes.

you definitely didn’t know anything about yoongi and music, sure you knew that he was a phenomenal piano player and also that he was very shy about it, you’ve only ever seen him play once and it was only because he was pretty drunk then.

you look around to try and find the room that jin told you about, brushing past several strange looking men but they are the least of your worries, you have dealt with idiots all the time at the bar and in parties, you will beat someone up if they mess with you.

“doll, what the fuck are you doing here?” you hear his irritated voice and silently heave out in relief because you immediately feel safer than you did just a minute ago.

“i should be asking you that.” you look at him with raised eyebrows and watch as he runs a hand across his face exasperatedly, only to march over to you, grabbing your wrist and dragging you with him.

if it were any other man dragging you around like this, you would break their wrist but this was yoongi, you trust yoongi, and as much as you hate him, you know yoongi would never hurt you.

he pushes the two of you into a room and closes the door behind him, you immediately snatch your wrist from his grip and rub at the spot he gripped too hard.

“okay, you didn’t have to do that.” you mumble while massaging your sore wrist.

“what are you doing here?” he doesn’t hesitate to jump right into it.

and you want to bring up his girlfriend but he looks pretty annoyed, you’re not sure if this is the time to push his buttons even more.

“i just, i was around but the real question is, what are you doing in a music studio?” you throw the question back to him and quickly scan the room you’re in right now, there’s a sound system, a keyboard, some speakers lying around and other equipment you know nothing about.

“i don’t have to tell you that” he deadpans and you retaliate a little, your posture faltering at his firm tone because while yoongi has always been rude to you, there’s a certain coldness to his voice right now that you just don’t recognize.

“you’re right, you don’t.” he really doesn’t. and now, everything you’ve done looks stupid to you, like taking food to his home and meeting some random girl, chasing seokjin on campus even when you don’t have any familiarity with him just to find about yoongi and even refusing to back down from a dare that you could just deny.

you don’t think you’re doing this for the dare anymore.

yoongi sighs when he sees your rigid posture and head hung low because damn it, he feels bad for being mean to you and he never feels bad about being mean to you, being mean to you just comes naturally to him but you just look so small right now, the air of pride and arrogance that you usually carry isn’t around you anymore and yoongi doesn’t know what to do.

“how did you find out?” he asks finally, taking a seat near the equipment and you don’t want to tattle on jin but you have no choice.

“just asked around.” you still tried to cover up jin’s name and yoongi raises his eyebrows at you like he doesn’t believe you.

“fine, seokjin told me” you squeeze out and you just hope that jin isn’t the type to hold grudges.

“you really went all the way to jin to ask about me?” jin is across campus from you, which explains why you don’t know him all that well but you did find out where jin is, just to ask him about yoongi.

but yoongi doesn’t need to know about that.

“don’t think too much about it, i had a class on that way.” you stubbornly lie through your teeth.

“no, you don’t” yoongi spins around in his chair to gather some notes in front of him.

“what?”

“you don’t have a class that way y/n, we both know that.” how the fuck does he know that?

“why didn’t you just ask me? or come to my apartment? you’ve already been there and i truly don’t understand why you went all the way to jin to ask about me.” yoongi’s words are softer, a lot less cold than before, and a lot more like the yoongi you know. which causes the return of your unfaltering confidence.

“i don’t know your number, and i didn’t want to intrude on you in your apartment again.” you answer honestly.

“but you think it’s okay to intrude on me in my studio?” the mocking in his tone doesn’t go past you and for a second, you don’t know what to say but if you’re talented in anything, it has to be the fact that you’re insanely good at changing subjects.

“speaking of the studio, what are you even doing in this studio? don’t you have a tattoo shop to take care of?” you huff and sit down on a nearby stool. you know that you’ve done a wonderful job at changing the topic because yoongi stills in his seat, not a sign of movement from him.

“or you know, just don’t tell me i guess” you add with a petty tone which has him sighing once again and turning in his seat.

“you’re really pushing the limit here, doll.” it sounds like he’s warning you but you have never been one to give a shit about his warnings.

besides, you always thought you knew yoongi, like really know him and as it turns out, you know nothing at all which has you craving to know everything.

“haven’t i always done that?” you flutter your eyelashes at him dramatically which draws a small smile on his face, it’s a rare smile, you’ve only ever seen him smile like that with his friends or when he’s flustered.

interesting.

“fine, i will tell you” you immediately jump in your place, leaning forward to listen with the utmost attention, eyes wide open and lips pursed because you can’t believe mysterious man of the campus (he gave that title to himself last year) is finally opening up to you.

“you can’t tell anyone else, you have to promise me that” the seriousness in his voice tells you he’s definitely not joking around anymore and you aren’t going to do that either, so you sit up straight and nod obediently.

“my tattoo shop, to put in one way, was a rushed decision doll, i don’t know why i thought it would be a good idea but i thought as long as it brought in money for me, i don’t have to worry about anything else but i was wrong. i was so wrong.” admitting his mistake to you, his enemy basically, takes a lot of courage and you can’t help but feel a little touched that he shared it with you. and that he’s willing to share more.

“the income was great, but it isn’t where my heart is at, you know? even the course in college right now, i don’t feel anything towards it but music, ah music makes me feel everything i’ve ever wanted to feel.” yoongi doesn’t know why he feels so comfortable telling you all this when all your previous conversations have been catty comments to each other but when he looks at you listening to him sincerely, he feels like he can tell you anything.

“you probably know that i play the piano?” you nod enthusiastically, finally it was something you knew about him.

“yeah i do, you’re good even when you’re drunk.” you beam at him and he laughs at the stupid grin on your face.

he feels like he’s the teacher here and you’re the teacher’s pet.

but he knows if he says that out loud, you will probably kick him in the leg. and yoongi hates bruises so he shoves that happy thought to the back of his head, he will laugh about it to himself later.

“i’ve been writing songs forever now doll, and i’m finally getting somewhere with it, i’m going to hand over the tattoo shop to my sister and jungkook who are more passionate about it than i will ever be.”

he looks regretful almost, like he started something he couldn’t finish but you see yoongi in a new light now, writing songs, producing music, it isn’t child’s play, you know that a lot goes into putting your emotions into words and you admire yoongi for how honest he was with you even if he didn’t have to be.

“and focus on music full-time?” you ask gently and he nods.

“that is the plan, yes.”

so, this could be why he shut the door on your face even after the tempura prawns and fried rice, he’s going to stop working at the shop soon.

“isn’t jungkook that guy who is friends with jimin?” you distinctly remember jungkook’s name from somewhere but you can’t remember where you’ve seen him.

“yeah, they work at namjoon’s bakery together.” yoongi provides you your answer easily and you snap your fingers, you saw jungkook when you went to get a muffin from namjoon, he told you he would give you a discount and you couldn’t say no to that.

“that’s where i saw him, i remember now.”

yoongi stays silent, drumming his fingers against his leg and thinking by himself, he looked insanely attractive even with that stressed look on his face, he’s even wearing torn jeans today for heavens’ sake and you feel a little hot, you pick at your collar to try and cool your warming body down.

you can’t let him know the effect he has on you.

“you don’t have to worry about me telling anyone, i won’t. your secret’s safe with me” you smile at him and he gives you a grateful look before rubbing his palms on his legs, he doesn’t know what to say anymore and he feels weird just leaving himself completely vulnerable to you but yoongi trusts you, he might hate you but he still trusts you to not be that cruel.

“so, what did you come here for?” he asks, leaning back on his chair and you freeze.

how are you going to tell him that you came all the way here just to blackmail him after he’s told you his passion-filled story?

“it’s nothing important, don’t even worry about it” you wave your hand dismissively with a nervous chuckle leaving your lips and like always, yoongi doesn’t believe you.

“it must have been pretty important if you ran to jin to ask him where i am” he points out and you hate that he’s right.

“it is not important at all.” you lamely respond and yoongi cocks his eyebrow before leaning over and grabbing your stool and pulling him towards you, so that you’re face-to-face with each other.

your heart literally stops beating when his eyes meet yours, his are filled with steely determination and you’re sure that your eyes have wimp written all over them, just what yoongi always called you and it doesn’t help that you can’t think with his breath fanning over your face in hot flashes.

“i-i told you, it’s not important” you whine lightly and yoongi has an easy grin on his face because of your stutter.

“just say it, doll.” the command in his tone is really something you can’t ignore, because not only does it make you shiver, but it also puts you on autopilot to do what he asks.

“i know that the girl that you were with, in your apartment the other day, isn’t your girlfriend” you breath out and your heart returns to its pace when yoongi lets your stool go with a frown.

“girlfriend?”

“your girlfriend is the one from the party so i’m saying that i know you’re cheating on her with that other girl.” you don’t know why you keep talking but you do, you wish you would shut up already because yoongi finally isn’t that much of a mystery anymore and blackmailing him will just put his walls up again, but you don’t shut up.

“what are you trying to do, y/n?” with the lack of his usual nickname, the sentence seems colder, just like the tone he used when you first walked in.

and that’s when you know that any and all progress you’ve made with him is gone in the dust, you think might as well just destroy it all while you’re at it.

“i will keep my mouth shut near your girlfriend if you just finish my tattoo” you have never felt more stupid in your life, because you’re doing all this while you’re fully conscious, at least when you’re drunk, you have an excuse.

“so, you would tell on me if i didn’t do that tattoo for you?” you feel even more like an idiot when he puts it that way but you remind yourself pathetically that you hate him, and you don’t care what he thinks of you, so you nod a simple yes.

“wow doll, you play a nice game, huh?” he chuckles darkly as he throws his head back and you know that while his words might be funny, his tone and expression are anything but.

you shouldn’t feel guilty about this but you do, there’s this sinking feeling in your chest that whatever you’re doing right now, is not worth it.

just when you open your mouth to take back the words you’ve said and apologize and reassure him that you see him with more respect now, that his story and secret will forever be safe with you, that you admire his passion, you don’t get the chance to when yoongi shuts you up with his.

“fine, i’ll do your stupid tattoo, now get out of my studio.” your heart sinks at his blunt words and he says them while not looking at you at all, you know that you deserve it though which is why you shamefully nod and turns towards the door, leaving him alone in his studio again.

the next few days are a blur, and you’re back at some stupid party.

you needed to forget.

but as much as you tried to push yoongi away from your thoughts, there’s this nagging feeling that claws at you, you don’t understand why you feel as guilty as you do, but it doesn’t go away, it increased each time he saw you in campus and turned his head away like you were nothing to him.

and you hate that you’re nothing to him, you were at least an enemy before but now, he disregards you so easily.

why do you want to be something to him?

you aren’t stupid enough to bring up the tattoo though, you just figured you would give him the chance to tell you or just not get it at all, you are not going to run your mouth again.

“oh, jin’s here, did you hear about his girlfriend? i heard she’s trouble” you hear someone mumble next to you, and you immediately look up to see yoongi with jin and some other friends you don’t recognize, he doesn’t see you though and you want to hide away, you don’t want to see him just yet.

you duck your head low, clutching your red solo cup in your hand and moving away from his line of sight, the only place you know that is safe from everyone in this party is the balcony upstairs so you inform your friends that you’re going to get some air and leave.

as soon as you open the door, you welcome the fresh air that greets you, the night is especially cold and windy but you love it, you just tug your leather jacket closer and lean your body on the railing as you think back on everything that’s been happening.

why did you open your mouth in the studio?

why did you go to the studio at all?

why are you so desperate to prove your friends wrong?

maybe your friends were right? that can’t be though, you don’t like yoongi that way. or at least, you don’t know if you do.

you bite your lip once you feel tears of frustration pooling in your eyes because you brought this on yourself and you don’t even understand why you are so mad about this like yoongi used to mean nothing to you or did you just think he meant nothing to you?

you really want to call off the dare because at this point, it’s gotten too far.

“it’s freezing here, come back in.” you stiffen at the sound of yoongi and don’t even turn around, you just wish he goes away because of how you’re ignoring him. you hear steps and you almost sigh in relief, thinking that he left but when the steps keep getting louder, you turn around confusedly only to see yoongi walking towards you. he reaches where you stand as you hold your breath and he just looks at you while you look away with flushed cheeks.

“this isn’t the time to be stubborn doll, just come in.” he lightly scolds you and you huff out in frustration.

“why don’t you go in?” you snap, finally looking at him and almost instantly shrink back down because you’re really in no position to give him an attitude. yoongi clenches his jaw, trying hard to mask his annoyance because he doesn’t understand why he can’t get his feet to just move and leave you alone like you clearly want him to.

“i told you i will do the damn tattoo, why are you still being a bitch?” his words are like a harsh slap to your face, does he really think you’re still going on about the tattoo?

“this isn’t about the fucking tattoo, yoongi!” you yell at him, throwing your hands in the air and running a hand though your hair, almost pulling too harshly at the roots.

“then what is it about?” he crosses his arms over his chest, taking more steps towards you and looks at you sternly, and you don’t know what to tell him.

“you won’t understand” you shake your head pathetically, now even more confused with the close proximity you two shared but yoongi doesn’t move, he stays right where he is, so close to you that you feel dizzy.

“you don’t know that” he fires back and up close, you can see his frown getting deeper. the tension in the air is high and both of you are breathing heavier than necessary and your eyes stay glued on each other, if you moved a little more, you would be fully leaning on him and even from your position, you can feel his body heat.

“i used to think you meant nothing to me and all you’ll ever be is someone who will drive my nail to the wall, but turns out, i was fucking wrong about that, i was wrong and i can’t stand being nothing to you and you definitely don’t mean nothing to me anymore, and i don’t even know why i’m telling you all of this when you obviously don’t give a shit.” you hold your gaze as you try to put your emotions into words, it’s a mess but you feel lighter, things are ruined anyway and all you want to do right now is pull him close to you and just hold him all night even as you’re yelling at him, as fucked up as that sounds.

“do you really want to know what’s going on?” your voice is reduced to a mumble as your eyes shift from his eyes and move towards his lips, his gaze travels with yours and his eyes land on your lips too, and before he could let another breath out, you pull his collar to you and tilt your head to meet his lips.

yoongi responds immediately, his hands snaking around your waist to squeeze your hips and pulling you closer till your chest met his, as your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, tugging lightly, just enough to make him groan lowly, and the sound sends a shiver down your body.

neither of you pull apart for air, just letting yourself getting lost in him, in the taste of him that you’ve been unknowingly chasing for so long, and every touch he leaves on your body feels like a trail of fire that burns bright.

kissing yoongi was probably the best thing you’ll ever experience in your life.

and you’re scared to pull away because you know that nothing will ever be the same again, you just want to stay in this moment for as long as you can, forever if you can, avoid reality for as long as you can.

but of course, not all of your wishes come true.

you eventually push lightly at his chest to gasp for air, fingers curling around his shirt, you don’t want to let go and he leans his forehead on yours, breathing heavily as well, his eyes are tender as they watch you catch your breath, his hands leave your hips and gingerly reach out to tuck your hair back into place, all while his eyes never leaves yours and everything feels so intimate and delicate, like it’s just you and him in this night, every sound, anyone else are all white noise.

“yoongi” you mutter as you slip your fingers away from his hair and he shakes his head, taking your hand in his and holding it to the side of his face.

“please don’t say anything” there is pleading in his tone, a wish that you owe him for all the times you’ve fucked up so you do as he says, you let him caress your hands as his forehead never leaves yours, but he isn’t looking at you anymore, you don’t complain though because this way, you can look at him all you want and he will never know.

but after a while of just letting the wind embrace you two, you decide that you can’t live in this feeling forever, especially when everything feels so confusing and neither of you have a clue about what is going on, the only thing you know is that you’re in each other’s arms and that’s it, that’s all you know.

and that’s not enough.

“yoongi, your girlfriend” you whisper painfully, your heart is caught in your throat when his fingers pause on your skin, slowly retracting back to himself and he leans away from you, hands still loosely gripping your fingers, you already miss his warmth enveloping you. but you can’t be selfish, it’s no longer only both of your hearts that are involved.

“we can’t do this.” you pull yourself away from him and wipe the corners of your eyes that almost leak your tears, yoongi doesn’t say anything, but his silence is his surrender to the situation, you take his silence to be his agreement with you, that this isn’t okay.

taking his silence and compliance as your answer, you leave before your heart breaks even more than it already has.

you walk around like a breathing shell around the campus, regretting nothing and everything at the same time.

you don’t regret kissing yoongi, you don’t think you ever will but you regret how it happened, you regret the situation you put the two of you in.

but he kissed you back, that’s what confuses you the most, you fully expected him to tear away from you and curse at you while wiping his lips but he didn’t, he kissed you back, like actually pulled you closer till you couldn’t feel anything but him.

you want to ask him why he did that, but you can’t. you can’t look at him without feeling complete humiliation because you might have just been another girl for yoongi, another girl for him to cheat on his girlfriend with and you feel…worthless.

and you also broke girl code, something you firmly believed in, or at least used to believe in, you want to talk to his girlfriend and tell her so that she won’t be constantly lied to but you also don’t want to get involved with yoongi again.

you push your books away with a groan and throw your pen on the desk you’re sat on; you can’t concentrate for shit and you really just want to disappear for a few days. when your phone dings, you almost throw it out the window because you told your friends that you needed space after they saw you looking dull at the party and you aren’t in the mood to party and forget even if that sounds lovely.

you grab your phone with a frown and squint at it when the bright light blinds you for a second, you curse yourself and reduce the brightness to see a message from an unknown number.

from: xxxxxxx

tomorrow, 9 in the morning, get the tattoo done or forget about it.

you just stare at the screen for a few minutes, it’s definitely him, even through the text messages, you know that it’s him, and he’s offering to do the tattoo? even after everything?

it isn’t right to go for it but you’ve got a dare to finish, right?

genius lab ended up being so far away from your apartment, that by the time you got to the front of it, you were heaving like a pregnant women, and you heavily grasp the handle of the shop, pulling it open with all the strength you have left. you stumble in to see a pretty empty shop, it is a working day so that isn’t a surprise, you wipe the sweat off your forehead as you look around for yoongi.

what are you even going to say?

‘hello, the kiss was great and i still feel weak from it but let’s forget that happened because that basically was just you cheating on your girlfriend?’

that doesn’t sound right.

“y/n, right?” you look up to see a younger, handsome man at the counter.

“jungkook?” he smiles and nods his head, extending his hand towards you, you shake it with a smile of your own and you really shouldn’t be smiling, considering your situation but jungkook has a very infectious aura, very bright and filled with joy.

you like him already.

“yoongi hyung is in the back room, he told me to tell you to go there” he gestures towards the other end of the room and you want to turn and run away from here, because as far as you can tell, the back rooms are private places meaning it’s just going to be you and yoongi.

your original plan was to look at other customers as you get yours done but how can you look at anything in a room if yoongi was going to be the only person in there?

“is that so? then i’ll get going in there, good luck here jungkook” you give him a nervous smile and he beams at you with a nod, eyes shining and you coo at how adorable he looks before you take a deep breath to calm yourself and slowly walk towards the room.

you’re only here for the tattoo and nothing else, you won’t talk with yoongi at all or even look at him, just let him do the tattoo and leave.

there you go, perfect plan.

you push against the door with your hip, peeking in to see yoongi with his back to you and you take a quick step back, clutching your hand on your racing heart, you haven’t even seen him fully but you’re not sure if you can stop yourself from lunging at him.

“are you just going to stand there, doll?” just as you’re about to tip-toe your way out of the tattoo shop and hopefully move to a remote island where you don’t have to worry about anyone, yoongi calls you out, with his back still to you.

how did he even know that you were there?

you clear your throat a little and step into the room, the walls are white and there’s a few boards filled with drawings here and there, and then there is yoongi who apparently has decided to wreck you by wearing torn jeans and a black hoodie.

the outfit isn’t special by any means but you already feel weak in the knees.

you decide to walk over to him with your knees still wobbly and your breath shakier than it was and look over his shoulder to see him working on a tattoo design, probably yours, you lean over to see it properly and gasp at the delicate baby’s breath drawing, your favorite flower.

“i didn’t draw it, my sister did” he mumbles as continues tracing it carefully.

“your sister is talented” you say honestly and he hums in agreement.

okay, so you two are going to act like yesterday didn’t happen, you can definitely go along with that.

“stop loitering doll, just sit down on the chair” he can’t focus when you’re walking around him with big, curious eyes and a small smile dancing on your lips, and he feels bad when you sigh in disappointment and silently walk to the big chair in the middle of the room.

but he can’t do anything about it, he expected you to be your usual self and fire back at him but you didn’t and he doesn’t have a good feeling about that.

he heads over to the chair with the tattoo design ready in his hands, he instructs you to lay down and makes sure you’re fully comfortable and his side keeps pressing against your body as he leans over to prepare things for the tattoo and it takes everything in you to not kiss him again. so, you keep yourself busy, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“you’re going to have to look at me if we’re doing this, y/n” he says and you lift your gaze to see him looking at you with a face you can’t read or decipher but you hold his stare as he circles around you to flicker some lights on you.

“where do you want the tattoo?” he asks, pushing his sleeves up, to reveal scatters of small tattoos all over his arms and you gulp at the visible veins on his hands.

“i get to choose?” you raise your eyebrows and he shrugs.

“well, it’s your body doll, i think it was cruel enough to make you do this, so yes, you do.”

you do know where you want to get it, you always thought that if ever, one day, you decide to be brave and get a tattoo, there’s one spot you’ve wanted it to be but you’re not sure if yoongi will be okay with it.

do you really want to push your luck here?

“are you sure you’re comfortable with anywhere?” you decided to ask him and he frowns at you like there’s an obvious answer.

“yes, that’s my job.”

“right” you purse your lips and nod as he looks at you expectantly.

“i want it on the side on my waist” you whisper and yoongi drops his head with a chuckle.

“doll, do you want to kill me?” and your face heats up at his tone and at the way he looks up with a smirk, nodding while putting on his gloves.

“then you will have it on the side of your waist, you have to push your shirt up by a lot, like right under your bra and hold it there, understood?” you do a double take at his straightforward tone, like talking about your bra is totally normal but you just bob your head hastily and agree to whatever he’s saying, trying to not make a big deal out of it but you’re sure that your red face is a dead giveaway.

“okay, lay on your side” he places his hand on your shoulder and gently pushes you back on the reclined seat, and you huff deeply because it’s only now dawning on you that you’re getting a tattoo done by yoongi, it’s going to be on your waist and you feel stupid for not just going for your arm. you stiffen under him and watch with wide eyes as he places the needles on the table, those look painful and you’re genuinely terrified now.

“scared of needles?” you nod numbly to his question, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to get rid of the image of those needles.

“it’s whatever, it’s fine” you breath out but your body definitely gives you away, your hands are shaking and you’re sure that you feel dizzy.

“doll, take it easy, it’s going to be over in no time and just remember to breath properly during it” when he gets no response from you, and your eyes are still closed, he realizes how scared you are.

“you want me to distract you?”

“please.” you mumble and he wordlessly lifts your shirt for you because you don’t look like you’re going to move but he keeps his eyes on your face while he does that, carefully tucking your shirt under your arm to keep it from moving away and if you weren’t as scared as were right now, you would have noticed the goosebumps that rise everywhere his touch reaches.

he gently holds your shirt in place and places the drawing on your skin, putting it flat and rubbing it slowly so that it would transfer well, and you feel weirdly hot, he’s just doing his job but you really want to just grab him and take him right there.

“okay, i will draw over this and then we will get to the actual tattoo” you actually shiver a little when you feel one of his hands tracing the design and the other slightly pulling on your skin so that it stays taut and you don’t know why the fuck you agreed to this because you’re clearly suffering here.

“what do you think of weird food combinations?” he suddenly asks once he’s done with the tracing.

“some are alright, i guess” you answer and then you hear the sound of the drilling needle causing you to let out a low whine and bury your face into the seat you’re lying on.

you should have stayed home, even the sound is freaking you out.

“which ones, according to you, are acceptable?”

“i don’t think mint chocolate is as bad as people make it out to be.” he scoffs at your response, making you frown.

“what is your problem?” you snap at him and yoongi smiles because you’re finally talking to him like you always do, he would recognize that tone of yours anywhere.

“mint chocolate is horrible, doll, i thought you had taste.” he clicks his tongue at you and you immediately go on a rant about how mint chocolate is too hated of a flavor and that at the end of the day, it’s just food and everyone has different tastes.

somewhere in the middle of your rant, yoongi looks at you fondly, you’re always so passionate about everything, even the simplest things, you make it sound and feel like how music affects him, and just as you’re almost done with your rant, he presses the needle on your skin making you yelp and you would’ve jumped and ended up scarring your skin if it weren’t for his hands holding you down.

this hurts this hurts this hurts.

it’s all you can think of as he slowly moves the needle around, looking at you every once in a while to check if you’re okay.

“i never got to tell you this but i think you following your passion with music is really cool and i really respect you for that, i hope you know that i will always support you on it.” you breath out quickly and if you weren’t here, yoongi would’ve cried because he appreciates your words so much, he pats your head in thanks, mumbling how grateful he is and it’s delicate, just like your first kiss.

it doesn’t last long though.

“you know, a food combination i like is french fries and vanilla ice cream.” your mouth drops open at his words, that sounds nasty as hell.

“why are you looking at me like that?” he laughs at your scrunched up face.

“what the fuck do you mean by french fries and vanilla ice cream?” you practically growled at him while looking at him with pointed eyes, can this tattoo be done anytime soon?

“don’t say shit when you haven’t tried it.” he smirks at your annoyed expression and you just glare at him.

“i don’t have to try that monstrosity to know that it tastes like trash.” you snap at him with raised eyebrows and just when he is about to reiterate with another comment, you unconsciously move, you hear him tut and hold you back down with a strong grip.

“sit still doll, or i might just drive this needle into your nerves and leave you paralyzed for life.” you know his warning doesn’t mean shit but you stay silent and stop moving anyways.

wait, you haven’t felt pain for the past five minutes, and you realize it’s because yoongi distracted you, he could’ve just done his job and leave you to suffer alone but he didn’t, and your heart swells a little.

that was sweet of him.

“how did you know that i like baby’s breath?” yoongi pauses with the needle but then continues like nothing happened at all.

“asked around” he casually replies and you roll your eyes, of course he would say that.

“yoongi, we need to talk about what happened in the party” you nervously but finally address the elephant in the room, biting your lip once the pain increases again.

“when i have a needle in my hand, really?” he looks up with an exasperated expression and you nod.

“with a needle in your hand, yes.”

“doll, all i’ve got to say is, i don’t know why you think i have a girlfriend” he laughs a little as he continues moving the needle against your skin.

wait what?

“what?”

“wait a second, your tattoo is almost over” you let him finish up while you are lost in your own thoughts, you are once again confused about everything and you don’t even feel the pain anymore, he places a patch over the tattoo after you get a look of it and you have to admit, he might not have passion in this but he’s surely talented.

he helps you sit up slowly, holding both of your hands firmly and pulling you forward till your legs almost wrapped themselves against his waist, he doesn’t let go of your hands though.

“i don’t have a girlfriend, and the only reason i let you go that night was because you didn’t look like yourself, i didn’t want to take advantage of you when you were that emotionally vulnerable, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you that dull.” he speaks sincerely and you know that he’s honest but you’ve still got so many questions.

“so, what about the girl from the previous party? the one where we played spin the bottle?”

“she wasn’t my girlfriend, i didn’t even sleep with her that night.” he shook his head as he said it and you narrow your eyes at him.

“well, she doesn’t know that because she’s bragging to everyone that you’re her boyfriend” you poke a finger at his chest accusingly and he chuckles.

“let her, i know who’s i want to be and it’s not her” your cheeks flush when he looks at you pointedly as he says that, you clear your throat and sit up straighter, taking this new information gracefully and doing a little happy dance in your heart, you wrap your arms around his neck and plays with the ends of his hair as he can’t help but grin at you.

“what about at the studio? you got so mad” you mumble sadly because you still remember how heartbroken you were that day and yoongi sighs, patting your cheek and rubbing his thumbs in circles on them.

“well, girlfriend or not, i didn’t like that you blackmailed me, doll. i had just opened up to you and you hit me with that so yeah, i was mad but i’m not anymore, okay? i know how stupid you can be sometimes” he adds the last part teasingly and you immediately gasp, pulling away from him and hitting his chest though a huge smile blooms on your face. yoongi laughs happily as you continue to try to hit him as he dodges.

eventually he gets tired of moving away from you, so he grabs your hands in his and pulls you closer till your lips meet his, your wrists stay captured in his hands as you kiss him back with every bit of your nerves ignited with a fresh need, you pull away from him with a small giggle while he wears a dopey grin.

“i hate you so much” you mumble against his lips with a huge grin, but like any other time, you don’t have a scowl on your face nor do you mean those words at all, he hums in agreement, pecking you one more time and cupping your face in his hands.

“trust me doll, i hate you so much more” he coos at you and you laugh at him because you know he doesn’t mean it either, you know that the word hate is just a replacement for love when it comes to the two of you, the way his eyes sparkle at you with a newfound joy tells you enough, and your laugh only gleefully extends once he starts peppering kisses all over your face as you try to swat him away.

so yes, you hate yoongi a lot, you hate min yoongi the most.

to: jisoo

the dare’s done, you can get off my ass about it! and guess who has a boyfriend now? 😉

390 notes · View notes

hercleverboy · 3 years

Text

persistence

spencer reid x reader

summary ↠ when spencer finds out that the reader has a stalker, he is determined to not let history repeat itself.

category ↠ angst/fluff

warnings/includes ↠ stalker-like activity, death threats, few swear words, descriptions of blood, puking, spencer being kinda emotionally manipulative

word count ↠ 8.2k

“Normality is a paved road. It’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow.”-- Vincent Van Gogh

Y/N stared down at the letter in her hands. Her fingers trembled, tears blurring her vision as she reread the words over and over. Written in an ominous red ink, a chicken-scratch-like writing filled the page.

‘If I can’t have you, no one can.’

It had all started two months ago.

First, it was the dark blue Sedan that she began noticing sat across the street from her apartment complex. Of course it easily could’ve belonged to one of the many people who lived in the complex, or perhaps even a friend of theirs. At first, it went unnoticed by her. It was only when she started taking note of the hours it was parked there that she began to get slightly concerned.

8am to 8pm. Every single day.

Like clockwork.

She’d peak through her living room curtains at 8am, and watch the car pull into its usual spot. It wouldn’t move all day but as soon as it struck 8pm, it left again- only to return the next day.

However, ever the sceptic, she didn’t want to blow the situation out of proportion. Her mind came up with countless possibilities. The owner was staying with a friend who lived close by (but then why would the car not be there overnight?), or perhaps it was an plain-clothed officer doing some form of undercover work? Honestly, there was nothing she hadn’t considered. So while the presence of the unexplainable car was a little unnerving, it wasn’t enough to make her paranoid.

The paranoia began when sheets of paper began being posted through her letterbox. They always came between the times that the blue car was parked outside, and had only a few words on each one that was delivered.

‘I’ve been watching you, you know.’

‘You’re so beautiful.’

‘That boyfriend of yours, does he hold you like I did?’

‘Does he touch you like I did?’

Whilst they weren’t exactly threats, they were enough to set her skin alight. She was constantly looking over her shoulder, jumpy and paranoid.

Spencer noticed it, too.

He’d seen the subtle change in his girlfriend’s body language, but didn’t want to push her on the matter. He had asked once, but she’d reassured him that she was fine. So he decided that he’d let her confide in him when she was ready, but that didn’t mean that this change in behaviour didn’t make his heart ache.

He was a profiler, one of the best, he knew the behavioural tells that signalled fear.

So what was she so afraid of?

Then the phone calls started.

Y/N heard the buzz of her phone, assuming it was Spencer calling. He was out of state on a case, but he always called to check up on her, or to notify her he was almost home. Although they didn’t live together yet, Spencer spent most of his spare time at her apartment. (He’d joked once that it was because her place was bigger than his, but really it was because his work took him away from her so often that he wanted to spend any spare minute he could with her.)

Reaching for the device, she frowned as she saw ‘Unknown Number’ flash across the screen.

“Hello?”

Silence.

“Hello?”

and then she heard it.

Heavy, husky breathing on the other end of the line.

The caller didn’t speak.

Unease filled her as she pulled the phone away from her ear and hung up. She placed her phone down beside her, biting down on her bottom lip as she attempted to rationalise what’d just happened.

Probably a butt dial, or maybe even a wrong number?

She pushed it to the back of her mind, distracting herself so that she wouldn’t have to confirm what she already knew was true.

The second call came two days later.

Spencer had returned earlier that day from an exhausting but overall successful case. He hadn’t even stopped by his place after landing, instead opting to go straight to Y/N’s apartment, unable to contain his excitement of seeing her for the first time in a week.

He let himself in with the key she’d given him for their one year anniversary, as he quietly made his way into the home. He called out her name, announcing his presence so she’d know he was home.

When she didn’t come to greet him in the hallway, or even call back to let him know she’d heard him he frowned. He slipped off his shoes before moving down the hallway, his eyes finally landing on her figure in the living room. She was stood by the large window that overlooked the street below them, her phone pressed to her ear. Spencer took in her body language, noting how her shoulders were tensed, and how the hand not holding her phone was gripping tightly onto the curtains as she peaked between them.

The unknown caller hung up, and Y/N looked down at her phone in her hand, eyes welling with tears- still unaware of Spencer’s presence behind her.

“Y/N?” He asked quietly, trying not to startle her but still managing to.

She shrieked, turning around to face him, relief filling her features as she saw the familiar sight of her boyfriend. She forced a smile on her lips and pushed her worries away, wiping the tears from her cheeks quickly and hoping he hadn’t already seen them. “Spence! God, I’m sorry. I didn’t notice you were home.” She chuckled.

His frown only deepened as he moved toward her. “Is everything okay? Who was that on the phone?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she quickly came up with an excuse. “Oh, It was no-one.” She waved it off, hoping she’d played it off well enough to ease his worry.

Once he reached her he put his arms around her, enveloping her in a tight hug, his arms around her waist. She sighed, hugging him back with her arms around his neck.

He nuzzled his face into her neck, placing a kiss there that was so soft and delicate that it almost moved her to tears. “You know you can tell me anything, right? If something’s bothering you or worrying you then you don’t have to keep it to yourself. I’m here.” He whispered.

“I know.” She whispered back, squeezing him gently to comfort herself. “Thank you.”

Truth is, she knew she could tell Spencer what was happening. She knew that he would immediately inform his team, and with their wonderful minds and Garcia’s infinite systems, they’d have their unsub within days. So what was stopping her?

or more specifically, who was stopping her?

The answer would be Maeve, the woman that Spencer once loved, who he lost so suddenly and so tragically. She’d heard what had happened, and had comforted Spencer when he cried as he told her of the only other woman he’d ever loved, apart from Y/N. He’d confided in her about Maeve around four months into their relationship, and Y/N was grateful that Spencer trusted her enough to tell her such a thing. Losing the person you loved like that? Y/N couldn’t fathom it. Her heart ached for Spencer, and the heartbreak he’d endured.

She didn’t want to worry him over what might be nothing. After what happened with Maeve, she didn’t want to make him suffer all that again, to make him think that it was all happening again. She never wanted to be the reason for his hurt, and she knew that telling him is exactly what it would do- make him anxious, worried. She knew her boyfriend like the back of her hand. He’d go into overdrive trying to protect her, to prevent what happened to Maeve from happening to her. But still, she refused to be the one that set those events into motion. She knew it was stupid, he boyfriend was in the FBI- who are exactly the type of people you’d go to if you had a stalker.

She had tried to tell him a few times but when she opened her mouth to say the words, nothing would come out.

The final straw was the letters.

The first one was pushed through her letterbox on a Friday afternoon. Spencer was at work, thankfully only on a paperwork day instead of being called for a case. There was no name or address on the front of the letter.

She felt sick. Immediately she knew it was from him. At least she presumed it was a ‘he’, from the possessive tone of voice in the notes.

She ripped it open, taking out the letter. It was a single sheet of paper, both sides filled with that chicken scratch writing. Her eyes skimmed over the words written before her, tears blurring her vision. It was a love letter. Her stalker even gave her a nickname, ‘Dove’.

‘My darling dove, you were made for me.’

‘My love for you knows no bounds.’

‘You’ve got such a beautiful laugh, I’ve heard it.’

‘And your skin, so perfect, so soft looking. I’d love to run my fingers along your-’

Y/N let the letter drop to the floor as she felt the bile rise in her throat, dashing to the bathroom and throwing up her stomach contents in the toilet.

She felt sickened. She couldn’t bring herself to read what was left of the letter, instead screwing it up and throwing it away. The words she had read haunted her, made her feel disgusting. She spent hours in the shower that night, as though she was scrubbing his filthy words off of her skin.

The letters continued, and with each one, the comments became more and more repulsive. Instead of declaring his undying love for her, her stalker began to get enraged. With each letter he became increasingly angrier, and it shook Y/N to her core.

‘You whore, I could hear your moaning for that little boyfriend of yours from across the street’

‘When I get my hands on you, you’ll be begging for me to show you mercy’

‘I’ve protected you, watched over you! I’ve taken care of you for months now and this is how you repay me?’

‘Fucking dirty slut. I’ll kill you for that.’

‘What a shame it would be for that pretty flesh to be torn so carelessly, but it seems I’ll have to teach you a lesson, dove.’

‘You’ve made a mistake, choosing him over me.’

All of those led to one final letter.

Written in red ink, eight simple words with a sinister underlying message.

‘If I can’t have you, no one can.’

Dropping the paper as though it had burned her, she desperately tried to slow the breaths that were increasing rapidly, willing the air to fill her lungs.

The realisation hit her like a freight train.

She was in danger, real danger. Now that her life had been threatened, she knew she couldn’t hide it any longer.

No matter the consequences, she had to come clean to Spencer.

She scrambled around her apartment, grabbing any evidence she had in the form of letters/threats and made sure she had her phone so she could show them the phone calls from an unknown number.

She glanced out the window to the street below. It was only midday, and she could see the familiar blue Sedan parked opposite her complex. She just had to get to her car safely, which should be a relatively easy task, given the numerous people who were walking down the bustling street- the perks of living on a main road.

She made it to her car thankfully unscathed, locking the doors behind her. She didn’t dare look across the road at the car, afraid of what, or who she would see. As she drove to the BAU, she anxiously tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. She anticipated what Spencer’s reaction was going to be- he’d be angry, definitely. Y/N was torn, she wanted to stand by the decision she’d made two months prior to not involve her boyfriend with what was going on, but now she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made a poor choice. If she’d have told Spencer earlier, things would’ve been resolved. But by telling him the truth, she couldn’t help but ponder if she was putting him or his team in danger.

Shaking her head clear the thoughts, she pulled into the car park that was next to the building. Taking a few deep breaths, she grabbed her bag and headed toward the buildings’ entrance. Her palms were sweaty and her throat was dry. What the hell was she going to say? ‘Hey Spence, I have a stalker who’s threatening to kill me that I neglected to tell you about, how’s your day going?’

After being granted access at the front desk, she was given a visitors badge and headed up to the sixth floor of the building. As she stood alone in the elevator, she tried to take a few breaths, feeling the familiar clawing at the back of her throat that indicated she was close to breaking down. She’d been holding it together for so long, been so fucking scared for so long.

As soon as the doors opened she was greeted with the smiling face of one Penelope Garcia.

When Spencer and her had begun dating he brought Y/N along to one of Rossi’s pasta nights and the whole team immediately took a liking to her, especially after seeing how happy she made Spencer. However Penelope in particular absolutely adored Y/N, and the two had even hung out together a few times.

Garcia gasped with a grin as the doors opened. “My sweet Y/N! I got the notification that you’d checked in downstairs and thought I’d come greet you!” She moved toward her, hugging Y/N tightly. “Are you here to see our boy wonder? He’s around here somewhere-” She pulled back when she noticed the tenseness in Y/N’s shoulders. When Garcia met her teary eyes she gasped at the sight. “What’s wrong?”

Y/N finally let the tears tremble down her cheeks, reaching into her bag to grab the handfuls of threating letters from the person who’d made her life hell for two long months. She handed them to Garcia, who after years of working that job knew from the first few words what they were dealing with.

Y/N met her worried eyes. “It’s bad, Penny. Really bad.”

Garcia nodded, shocked but still placing a comforting arm on Y/N’s back. “Reid- He never mentioned-”

Y/N shook her head. “I didn’t tell him. I didn’t want him to worry over nothing but- this is the first time he’s threatened my life and I’m scared, Pen. I’m really scared.”

Garcia burst into action, coaxing Y/N with gentle words to head into the bullpen. As soon as they walked through the glass doors, all of the team member’s heads turned toward them. Spencer’s eyes immediately fell on his girlfriend’s tear stained cheeks and within seconds he was by her side.

“Y/N, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

She shook her head, moving forward and wrapping her arms around him. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her, holding her to him as she cried into his chest, her shoulders shaking as she let out everything she’d buried so deep inside.

He looked over at Garcia, bewildered. She simply walked up to Hotch’s office. The team could faintly hear Garcia presenting him with the papers Y/N had brought with her, explaining what she had told her when she arrived.

Minutes later Hotch came out of his office, walking down into the bullpen to where the team all looked at one another, confusion on their features.

“Y/N?” He asked as he approached her, and she pulled back from spencer to see him, wiping her tear stained cheeks. “You’re gonna need to tell us everything. You may be in immediate danger.”

Y/N nodded and Hotch headed off toward the round table room, Garcia scurrying in behind him. The rest of the team, with concerned glances to one another, followed into the room. This left Y/N and Spencer alone in the bullpen.

She felt Spencer gripping her hand, squeezing gently. Worry laced in his tone, he moved to stand before her and locked onto her eyes. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

Y/N nodded and cleared her throat, her voice quiet with shame as she spoke. “I have a stalker. He sends letters, calls just to breathe down the line and scare me. In his recent letter, he said he’s gonna kill me.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, his hand dropping from hers and he turning and stalked toward the board room. He had to see the evidence for himself.

He reached the room and the groups gazes all shifted to him, but he could’ve cared less. He reached out for one of the sheets of paper, eyes quickly scanning over the threatening words as Y/N entered the room behind him.

“When did this start, Y/N?” JJ asked, that caring, motherly tone present in her voice.

“About two months ago.”

“Did you notice anything odd about the neighbourhood beforehand? Cars that weren’t normally there, people stood on street corners at odd times of day?” Derek queried, his eyes scanning over some of the notes she’d received.

She nodded. “There was a car I noticed, right at the start. I didn’t think much of it until I started taking note of the timings. It would sit there all day, but be gone overnight. Then it would return the next day.”

“Do remember the colour, or make of car?”

“Yeah, a dark blue Sedan. Then a few days later the phone calls started.”

“Garcia I need you to run through Y/N’s phone records, see if you can trace the number they were calling from.” Hotch ordered and Garcia quickly left the room, heading to her bat cave.

“Here, listen to this.” JJ started, holding up one of the first letters. “I’m doing this because I love you, pretty dove. So very much. It’s okay, you’ll see.” She looked up to her team. “He’s planning something.”

Hotch turned his attention to her. “Y/N’s safety is our primary concern. This unsub seems to have fixated on her, for whatever reason. Y/N, do you have any ex boyfriends or enemies we need to know about?”

“I have five ex’s, but I don’t think any of them would be capable of this.” She reasoned, but there was a seed of doubt in the back of her mind.

At her words, Spencer stood up, slamming the letters down on the table with an audible thud before leaving the room. Y/N stared after him hopelessly, Hotch clearing his throat before speaking again.

“I’ll need a list of their names.”

Derek piped up. “We also need to know locations of spots that you frequent, anywhere you may have met this guy. Coffee shops, restaurants, even the library. No detail is too small, okay?”

Y/N nodded, turning back to stare out the door that Spencer had stormed out of moments before. “I’m just going to go check on him.” She murmured, earning an apologetic smile from JJ.

She found him outside the building, sat on one of the stone steps of the staircase that led up to the buildings entrance. He had his head in his hands, trying to calm down the thoughts that sped through his overworking mind.

She sat beside him, draping his coat that she’d grabbed from his desk over his shoulders to combat the cold winter air. “You’ll catch a cold.” She muttered, offering a small smile as he looked over at her. Despite how he felt, he let the smallest of smiles find its way onto his lips at the comment. She had a stalker threatening her life and she was worried about him catching a cold?

They sat in silence for a little before Y/N broke it. “I’m so sorry, Spencer.”

“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault.” He mumbled, looking out to the street, watching people walk by. When Y/N didn’t answer, he spoke again. “You could’ve told me, you know?”

“I know, and I’m sorry I didn’t.” She whispered sincerely.

“Why didn’t you say something, Y/N? I would’ve dropped everything to make sure you were safe.” He promised, trying to make his voice sound strong, but failing as it cracked with his words.

“I didn’t think it was important. He wasn’t threatening at the start, and I thought I could handle it.” Now the words were leaving her mouth, she knew she sounded stupid.

“You didn’t think it was important?” Spencer repeated back to her, his breaths heavy as he failed to understand her reasoning. “Y/N you are the most important thing in the world to me. Okay? Please tell me you know that.” He turned his body toward her.

“I know. I know and I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. It’s just I know- after everything that happened before with Maeve-“ She paused for a moment. “I didn’t want to worry you over nothing.”

His breath hitched when she said Maeve’s name, and Y/N could almost see him replaying the moment he lost her in his mind. The curse of an eidetic memory.

“I’m not going to let that happen to you- no, not you. Never you.” He sniffed, reaching over to take her hand in his.

She nodded, tears filling her eyes once more. She cuddled into his side, her head dropping on his shoulder. She sniffled. “I’m scared, Spencer.”

“It’s okay. He’s not coming anywhere near you, Y/N. I swear to you, he’s not going to hurt you. Not while I’m here.” He brought her hand up and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

Over the next few days, the team spent hours analysing ever piece of evidence Y/N had received, and Garcia went through tons of security footage, trying to get a good look at whoever was in the blue Sedan. She’d ran the license plates, but they’d come back as being fake, so that had been a pretty dead end, and the phone number she’d traced had come from a payphone, so there was no lead there either.

Spencer was evidently over-working himself, not taking breaks from work to eat or sleep. He reread the words a hundred times, desperately looking for what it was he must’ve missed. He was filled with this overwhelming need to protect her, to keep Y/N safe. To succeed where he’d failed previously. He couldn’t afford to make the same mistake he’d made with Maeve. He’d let his emotions cloud his judgement and it cost Maeve her life. He wouldn’t make that same mistake again.

There wasn’t time for that, not when Y/N was in danger.

Y/N spent most of her time alongside Spencer at the BAU, mostly because he insisted that she was somewhere he could keep an eye on her at all times. She only went home in the evenings so she could change and sleep in her own bed, but always with a police escort that Spencer had himself done a thorough background check on and knew could be trusted.

Eventually, It had been an entire week. Spencer had only had a handful of sleep, only when the exhaustion became too much did he pass out and actually get a few hours of sleep before he was right back at it. Members of the team who attempted to gently voice their concern for him received a scowl in response, with Y/N even trying to get through to him, but he just shrugged her off. Ultimately, Hotch had to pull him aside to talk.

Hotch walked into the room where Y/N sat reading silently in the corner while Spencer’s eyes ran over the words he’d already read a hundred times.

“Reid, Can I speak to you?”

Spencer’s head snapped up, pissed that he was being interrupted from the task before him. He grunted under his breath, standing up and walking out of the room.

Hotch brought Spencer up to his office, closing the door behind them so there was some dilution to the raised voices that were definitely going to come from this conversation. He sighed, turning to face the younger man and crossing his arms. “The Bureau don’t want us using any more of our time on this case. The unsub has been inactive for a week, and we have other cases building up that take priority.”

Spencer scoffed. “You want us to stop? You can’t be serious.”

“I’m afraid not. The order came from above me, I have no power here. The best we can do for now is send Y/N home with police protection until this guy resurfaces.”

“You wanna send her home? No way, Hotch! There’s some son of a bitch after her and you want her to be at home?” He was angrier than Hotch had seen him be in a long while.

Hotch sighed. “Reid. It��s out of my hands. I recognise how hard this is for you, but we have no choice.”

“But I- I can’t protect her if she’s not with me! I can’t keep her safe.” His tone changed from angry to more of a begging. “Please, Hotch. There’s got to be something you can do.”

“I’m sorry.”

Spencer huffed, his anger returning. “Bullshit! You know as well as I do that she’s vulnerable as soon as she leaves here. Police presence or not, if something happens to her-”

Hotch shot him a warning look, which made Spencer stop mid-sentence.

“You’re done with this case for now, understand? Until he resurfaces, we have other priorities.” Hotch spoke. Spencer scoffed, walking and brushing past his unit chief. “That’s an order, Reid.” He warned.

Spencer ignored him, heading back to the room he’d left Y/N in, his mind refocused on getting back to his previous task- despite Hotch’s orders.

He stepped into the room, slamming the door closed behind him, earning a surprised squeak from Y/N, who still sat in the corner with her book in hand. He looked over at her, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “He wants you to go home, and we have to put the case on hold because we have others to work on. Can you believe that? How could he ask that of me?” He laughed humourlessly as Y/N shut her book, placing it next to her.

She sighed, standing, knowing he wasn’t going to like what she had to say. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

It was just the protective side of him coming out, and at first Y/N thought it was endearing, but he couldn’t neglect his own needs to favour hers any more. She wouldn’t let him.

“Spencer, you gotta stop this. I know how hard you’re working, and I’m so grateful, but you’re killing yourself here.” Her voice was gentle, hoping she’d be able to appeal to him.

“No! No Y/N I’m not stopping until we get this guy, until you’re safe.” He snapped.

“You heard what Hotch said, you have other cases that need to take priority.” She moved toward him, still trying to reason with him. She was still scared to death, and she didn’t particularly want to leave Spencer’s side- after all he made her feel safe. But there were people who needed him and his team, and if she was no longer in imminent danger, his talents were needed elsewhere. It made her feel sick, but it’s the way it was. They were just going to have to wait for this guy to make his next move.

“But Y/N, you are my priority. Don’t you get that?” He asked, moving back as she came toward him. The motion hurt her, so she stood still.

“I do, I promise you I do, but there’s people out there who need that beautiful mind of yours more than I do right now.”

He scoffed. “So you just expect me to give up?”

“Of course not, but Hotch is right. What if this guy never makes any other moves? What if he just wanted to scare me? You can’t waste your time. It’s too valuable.”

“And what if the second you walk out of those doors he gets you?” Spencer shouted, his arms coming out by his sides to exaggerate his point.

“Then you’ll find me. If that happened, which is a worse-case scenario, I have faith that you and this team would find me and bring me home.”

“And if I can’t? If I fail, again? If I have to watch you die like I watched-” His breath hitched, his voice catching. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “No, No. I will not lose you, do you understand? I will not stop looking for this son of a bitch, not ever. I’m not letting you go home, Y/N. I’m sorry, that’s final.”

“Spencer, you can’t keep me here. You’d be disobeying Hotch’s direct orders-”

He shook his head. “I’m not having this conversation with you, Y/N. I’ll talk to Hotch, change his mind. Just- stay here. Please.” The last word was quiet and pleading, a stark contrast from the tone he was using before. He picked up the evidence files he was going through and walked away, feet stomping as his anger still radiated off of him.

Y/N had stood there for a minute, collecting herself before she took a shaky deep breath, bringing her hand up to wipe the tears that trickled down her cheeks.

She walked out to the bullpen, ignoring how Spencer had asked her to stay. Her eyes met Derek’s who offered her an apologetic smile.

“Hey.” He called out to her as she passed by. “Whatever the kid said, he didn’t mean it. He just wants to keep you safe.”

She gave a sad smile. “I know. Um, is it alright if I just step out the front for some air? I’m feeling a little boxed in.”

“Sure thing. I’ll keep you company, make sure you get back alright.” He stood up from his desk chair, grabbing his jacket and accompanying her downstairs.

When they got there Y/N turned to him. “Is it alright if I have a moment alone? I’ll stay where you can see me, I just need a minute.”

Derek was hesitant, but nodded. She pushed open the doors, out into the cold night. She remained stood by the front doors, where they bright lights from indoors seeped outside, lighting up the pavement. She took a few deep breaths, letting the cold air fill her lungs, hoping it’ll help alleviate the stinging pain in her heart. She looked up at the sky, willing herself to keep her tears at bay. She appreciated what Spencer was doing, and adored his instinct to protect her, keep her safe. She knew how stubborn he could be at times, but now she thought about it, maybe when she sided with Hotch earlier it made it seem like she didn’t have his back, which was certainly not the case.

Derek watched as Y/N collected herself, seeing that she was about to turn and come back inside. Suddenly someone bumped into his side, his attention turning from Y/N to the person who collided with him. He looked over to see a young man he didn’t recognise.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. My apologies.” The man apologised before walking off.

Derek furrowed his brow, before turning back to look outside.

Y/N wasn’t there.

He bolted forward toward the doors, flinging them open and looking left and right for any sight of her.

She was long gone. And so was whoever took her.

Hearing a crinkle beneath his feet, Derek looked down at the sound, noticing a scrap piece of newspaper on the floor where Y/N had been stood.

He picked it up, unfolding the paper. On it, written in the familiar blood red chicken scratch was the same threatening message Y/N had received before.

‘If I can’t have her, no one can.’

Derek placed the paper down on the roundtable, that the team was now gathered around, shock and worry on their faces.

Hotch closed his eyes with a sigh as he looked at the paper, guilt rushing over him. Just then Spencer came into the room, immediately picking up on the mood that had settled over the team.

“What’s’‘-” His eyes landed on the message, the realisation spreading over his features. “Where’s Y/N?” He asked, a sort of denial in his voice.

“He has her.” Derek confirmed, bowing his head down in shame that he hadn’t protected her like he was supposed to.

“Morgan, What happened? You took her out to get some air and then what?” Emily asked, trying to establish where it’d gone wrong.

“I took my eyes off of her for a minute, some guy bumped into me and it distracted me, and when I looked back she was gone.”

Emily’s mouth opened as she connected the dots. “It must’ve been a distraction, one guy bumps into you so that you take your eyes off of her while the other guy grabs her.”

“So what, we’re looking for a partner here as well?” JJ posed, looking up at her team.

“It would seem so. He waited for his opportunity, and when it came he took it.” Rossi chimed in.

“This is now an active investigation, we have a missing woman who’s already been gone for nearly an hour. We’ve got to work fast.” Hotch ordered, which sent the team out of their seats, each with a task assigned to them. However, Spencer still sat in one of the chairs, trembling fingers trailing over the words before him. The air in the room seemed thinner, his lungs working harder to fill themselves.

“Reid? Reid.” Morgan tried, but all he got from Spencer was little incoherent mumbles.

Finally, he looked up to meet Morgan’s eyes, the words he’d been whispering falling from his lips in a more audible whimper. “He’s gonna kill her.” He choked on his words, the realisation crashing down on him. “I’m going to lose her too.”

Time was a precious thing.

Spencer had never been more aware of how quickly the seconds passed than he was at that moment.

He was on his knees, hunched over the toilet, hands gripping the sides in a vice-like grip, desperately trying to push down the nauseating feeling creeping its way up his throat. After the note that Morgan found, Spencer had rushed into the toilets, standing over the toilet bowl as he dry-heaved, holding himself back from being sick. He took heavy breaths, eyes screwing shut as he tried to think of anything other than the danger that Y/N was in.

He tried so hard to ignore the familiarity of the situation.

The thought set in motion a memory that he’d much rather forget, one that he pushed so far back in his mind so he could deny it had ever happened, that he’d ever allowed it to happen.

Ultimately, it was the curse of his brilliant memory, having the ability to perfectly recall things that happened years before.

As if he could ever forget that day, eidetic memory or not.

“Diane, Diane, there’s still a way out of this.”

“You never wanted me. Never! You lied!”

Diane has her arm around Maeve, gun pointed at her head. The bullet she’d shot into Spencer’s shoulder felt numb, the scorching pain felt irrelevant to the fear spiking his heart.

“I didn’t. Diane, I offered you a deal and you can still take it. Me for her. Let me take her place.” His eyes lock on Maeve’s, so full of fear, and he tries to reassure that she’ll be fine- because he knows she will. How many times has he talked down an unsub waving a gun around? She would be okay, she had to be.

“You would do that?”

“Yes.”

“You would kill yourself for her?”

“Yes.”

Of course he would. In a heartbeat.

“Thomas Merton.”

Maeve’s voice was small but sure. What scared Spencer the most was how certain she sounded, as though she’d accepted that this was her fate; her end.

“Who’s Thomas Merton?”

“He knows.”

She loved him. And he loved her. Oh how bittersweet.

“Who’s Thomas Merton, who is he?”

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us.”

Its only a moment’s hesitation, a moment that he should’ve reached for a gun, a moment where he should’ve taken his shot.

“No.” Diane scowled.

Time is a precious thing.

and Maeve’s was up.

“Wait-”

The shot still rung clear in Spencer’s ears, a sound he was sure he would hear for the rest of his days. His breaths were heaving again, his eyes flying open as he willed the image of Maeve’s body to leave his head. But when his eyes screwed shut again, it was someone else in her place.

It wasn’t Maeve’s body on the floor anymore. Instead, in her place lay Y/N, blood gushing from the open wound at the side of her head, her lifeless body cold against the concrete floor.

That’s the thought that made him sick, throwing up into the toilet at the thought of watching Y/N die the same way he watched Maeve.

Taking gasping breaths, he sat back against the side of the cubicle, hands running down his flustered face, feeling the streaks of tears that trembled down his cheeks.

He shook his head, as if that would erase the horrific thoughts swimming around. He reminded himself that Y/N was still alive, and they had no reason as of yet to believe that she wasn’t. It was that thought that made him pull himself to stand, raking his hands through his hair and trying to calm his quivering hands.

Y/N was still out there, waiting for him to save her.

He grit his teeth together as he walked out of the toilets.

He wouldn’t hesitate this time. He was not going to lose her.

He walked back into the roundtable room, ignoring the looks he received from the team. They had been bouncing theories off of one another, trying to use their profile to figure out who their unsub was, and where they would’ve taken Y/N.

“Is it possible a woman is our unsub, or perhaps even the partner?” Emily posed, her eyes scanning over one of the letters.

Derek shook his head. “I don’t think a woman would use language like this, it’s very derogatory, it exerts a power over Y/N.”

The team fell quiet in thought, only interrupted when Garcia came scurrying in, her laptop in her hands. “You’ll never guess what I just found!”

Everyone looked up to her, Hotch speaking. “What is it, Garcia?”

“I looked over the list of Y/N’s exes, and only one of them jumped out to me as a little suspicious. So I did some digging.” She tapped a few keys on her laptop before grabbing her remote and broadcasting to the team what she’d found on the TV. “Daniel ‘Danny’ Stone, 29, dated Y/N three years ago. He was her last boyfriend before she met Reid.”

“Three years? You don’t think he’s still bitter about the relationship ending?” Emily asked, confused.

“Three years is a long time. Why surface now?” JJ chimed.

“Reid, did Y/N ever mention her previous relationship ending on a rough note?” Rossi asked, turning to face the younger boy.

Spencer frowned. “She said the breakup was a little rocky, but nothing awful. The last time she spoke about him was a few months ago, said he got in some sort of accident?” He looked to Garcia for confirmation, and she nodded.

“Indeed. Stone was involved in a road collision four months ago.”

JJ hummed, looking through the medical reports on her iPad. “Says here he suffered brain damage, specifically to his pre-frontal cortex.”

“Well that would explain why this stalker seemingly came from nowhere. People who suffer damage like this are impulsive, unable to make rational choices.” Derek posed.

“So what’s the theory here? He wakes up after this accident, and because of his injury chooses to track down his ex? Three years after they break up?”

Morgan shook his head. “It isn’t a choice. Not anymore. He has to do it. He’s become fixated on her. He knows she’s with Reid, and like he said, If he can’t have her, the neither can Reid.”

“Okay, but why stalk her? What does he gain from that? Instead of just taking her and getting what he really wants?” Emily questioned.

“This newfound impulsivity would make him a risk-taker. He’ll do things that the average person wouldn’t dream of trying. But it’s unlikely that Stone actually staked out Y/N’s home, or delivered the letters to her door. He wouldn’t have the self-control to span this out over months. He just pulled the strings.”

“So that was his partner, then.” JJ deduced, earing nods from the team. “Then what does the partner gain from this? Why help Stone?”

“Maybe Stone manipulated them. Perhaps he has some form of information on them he’s using as blackmail?”

“Did you get an address on Stone, Garcia?” Hotch asked, and Garcia nodded enthusiastically.

“You know I did, It’s already been sent to your phones.”

“Alright, let’s go.”

The team all stood, heading for the doors. Spencer was quick to get up and follow, hope sparking in him now that they had an address. He was just about to leave the room when Hotch’s voice stopped him.

“Reid, you know I can’t let you come with us.” His voice was firm, he knew there could be no room for error here. Not after what happened last time.

“Like hell you can’t.” Reid snapped, turning around to face him. He’d regret his smart mouth later when Hotch undoubtedly told him off for it, but at that moment who couldn’t have cared less.

“We will get her and bring her home, but you can’t be involved in this. It’s a conflict of interest, you know that.”

“Oh, so it wasn’t a conflict of interest when you went after Foyet?”

It was a cheap shot, one that Spencer really regretted the second he said it, but amends could be made later.

Hotch’s face didn’t falter, despite the petty jab. “Yeah, and look where that got me.”

Spencer’s defesnive stance dropped, his arms falling by his sides. “Hotch. You were there when when Maeve died. Do you remember it?”

“Of course.”

“Not like I do. I can see every second of it every time I close my eyes. I can’t go through that again. I almost didn’t make it out the other side, If it happened again I don’t know if I could cope-” He stopped, his voice catching in his throat. “Just- Please.”

Hotch grunted, giving in. “Fine, but you can’t allow your emotions to cloud your thinking. I know it will be difficult but I need your head to be in this.Y/N’s life depends on it.”

Spencer nodded and they headed down toward the SUV’s.

They pulled up to the address, lights blaring and sirens sounding. They all quickly jumped out and regrouped, strapping their kevlar vests to their chests as they moved. They were stood in front of an abandoned apartment complex, one that had ben uninhabited for years.

“Alright Morgan, Prentiss I want you to go around the back, find a way in through there, see if you can find this partner of his. JJ, Rossi and Reid you’re with me. ” Hotch ordered, as they all drew their guns and prepared to head in.

As they stealthily walked through the building, they listened for any noise that indicated where the unsub was. Hotch, who was leading the group, pushed open a door to the staircase, and they were about to head up when they heard a bang coming from the floor below them.

They headed down the stairs, seeing that they were entering the buildings basement. They rounded the corner, guns at the ready, and stepping into a small boiler room.

In the centre of the room, Daniel stood. He held a struggling Y/N to his chest, his arm around her neck and gun placed at her temple.

Spencer recalled how it the sight was all too familiar, how Diane had held Maeve the same way.

Daniel’s voice broke him from his thoughts. “If you step any closer, she dies.”

“Okay, okay. We’ll stay back, but I need you to put down the gun.” Hotch tried, shooting a look over his shoulder to Spencer, a look that told him to stay put.

Daniel shook his head. “No. You’re going to ruin everything!”

“Ruin what?” JJ asked.

“My chance do what’s right. Y/N doesn’t want me. But I love her, can’t she see that? I would do anything for her, and still she would choose him over me?” Daniel’s eyes moved to meet with Spencer’s, narrowing.

“Daniel, we know what you went through. We know about your accident, how you’ve felt so out of control since, but if you come with us we can get you the help you need.” Rossi was next to attempt to convince him, but to no avail.

“No- No!” Daniel scowled, clenching his teeth as his gaze fixated on Spencer, who’s eyes were locked with Y/N’s, trying to silently reassure her that she was going to be okay. “She’s mine. I protected her, I’ve looked out for her. She’s finally going to understand.” He looked down at Y/N, his grip on her tightening, causing her to let out a frightened yelp.

Spencer gulped, tearing his gaze from Y/N and onto the unsub, putting on a strong and unbothered facade. He wouldn’t let himself be clouded by his emotions, not this time. “You’re right. You kept her safe, and I’m very grateful that you protected her when I failed to.”

“Thats right. You failed her. I’m so much better for her.” He seethed through his teeth. “ And that’s why, if she won’t chose me, she’ll have to die with me.”

“You don’t want to do that, Daniel. Put down the gun. We’ll bring you in, and if you tell us all about this partner of yours, we’ll tell everyone that you co-operated.” JJ suggested, her gun still aimed up at him.

“Why are you doing this?” Y/N gasped out, still struggling against his hold.

“Because if I can’t have you, the neither can he. No, No.” He grinned, bringing the gun up to his his own head. From where it was angled, the bullet would pass through his own head, and lodge itself in Y/N’s too. “You’re mine, Y/N.”

This time, Spencer didn’t hesitate.

One single gunshot.

Daniel collapsed to the floor, a bullet between his eyes.

Y/N fell to the ground with him in a fit of sobs, scrambling to get away from the man who lay dead on the floor, the pool of blood growing around him.

Spencer holstered his gun, immediately surging forward to wrap a trembling Y/N up in his arms.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you, you’re safe.” He cooed, rubbing a hand on her back in a soothing manner.

She sobbed into his chest as he held her, tears forming in his own eyes at the sound of her cries. But Spencer allowed himself a moment to breathe, looking over Y/N’s shoulder at the man he’d just shot without hesitation.

And he’d wouldn’t be losing any sleep over it, either.

He tightened his arms around her, thankful that she was safe. He brought her up to stand, his arms still tight around her. He looked toward his teammates, nodding gratefully at them as he walked Y/N out of the building. As he passed, he overheard JJ and Hotch’s conversation.

“Emily and Morgan found the partner fleeing out the back. They say he’s agreed to talk.”

With an internal sigh of relief, he held Y/N closer as they stepped out the doors of the building, guiding her toward the medical staff so she could be checked for injuries, despite how she told him she was fine. After it was concluded that she’d come out pretty unscathed, with only a few cuts and bruises, Spencer came and sat down next to her. She smiled weakly up at him, and he knew it would take a while for her usual bright smile to return, but she was alive- and right then that was all that mattered.

He immediately took her hand in his, gripping it tightly.

“Is it over?” She asked quietly, and he nodded.

“Yeah, they got the partner, and he’s going to co-operate in return for a reduced sentence, but he’ll still be going away for a long time.”

She nodded, her head dropping onto his shoulder. “Thank you so much, Spencer. You saved me.” She whispered.

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m sorry about the argument we had, I was being a jerk. I just wanted to protect you, but in the end you still ended up getting hurt.” He frowned, looking down at the gravel ground.

“It’s okay, I understand. I’m sorry you had to relive all of this again, I can’t imagine how difficult that must’ve been for you.” She sighed, guilt overwhelming her.

“Hey, no. You’re safe, that’s all that matters.” He promised and she nodded against him.

Giving her hand a squeeze, he turned slightly to press a lingering kiss to her forehead.

“Let’s go home, sweetheart.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg x reader #criminal minds

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blahkugo · 4 years

Text

Sleepless

Shouta Aizawa X Reader (BNHA)

Warnings: 18+, bondage, bratty rc, over-stimulation, umm it’s just pure filth sandwiched between some fluff

Word Count: 3.9k

A good night’s rest? You’ve never heard of her!

“At least take off your heels before you throw yourself into bed,” your boyfriend’s voice rings out, still deeply agitated from a long night of feigned smiles and interest. You know that tone well— the exasperated sigh typically saved for his students at U.A— but the room is spinning too fast for you to take heed of his reprimand.

“M’too tired,” you slur your words, face down against your mattress.

The two of you had been at a pro-hero gala, or as Shouta called it, a “gaudy show of riches for politicians and government dickheads.” It had taken almost all of your energy, and a lot of homemade dishes, to persuade him to accept the invitation; however, he had followed through. He behaved properly all night, smiled and socialized with every partygoer that approached you, and even ensured the vicious insults on the tip of his tongue were whispered into your ears only after each person had turned away. You deemed the night a success, despite waving off Shouta’s warnings about that fourth glass of champagne you downed.

“You’re going to get our covers dirty, idiot.” You can’t help but feel your heart flutter at that word— our. Be it the hundredth or thousandth time, you don’t think you’ll ever get over hearing him refer to the two of you as one. It had taken years for him to warm up to you, after all. While he considers it endearing now, you’re positive Shouta had initially found your constant laughter and positive nature unbearable, thinking of you as simply another nuisance to avoid; never had he met someone who reduced his usual threatening tone to something playful or entertaining. And little did either of you know, he would slowly come to adore the way his scolding amused you.

No amount of persuasion from his students or other heroes can convince you Shouta is actually intimidating. If anything, his constant stoicism only compels you to misbehave more. You love pressing his buttons, take pleasure in watching him get riled up and lose his calm demeanor. But as of this very moment, you’re simply too tired, and a bit too tipsy, to play along. You wave off his words with a flick of your wrist, only to feel a tug at your ankle.

“Wha–”

“Stop squirming. I’m trying to take them off,” he struggles with the straps woven intricately up your calves, “damned things are more tangled than my cloth.” When he finally removes them, you feel the pads of his fingertips graze your legs softly. Shocks travel your entire body as he pays special attention to the indents adorning your skin— drawbacks of the tight laces that are quite easy to disregard when they urge him to touch you so sweetly.

Shouta stalks away for a moment, only to return with a cotton pad and makeup remover. You’re surprised he even knows what products to use, though you know you shouldn’t be. He has spent countless minutes watching you complete your night routine intently, though usually his stare is paired with a sleepy grumble to hurry up and join him in bed.

He shifts you into a sitting position, wiping tenderly at your cheek while you pull off your false lashes.

“Those are fake?” He snorts, baffled.

“Mhhm, I’m prettier without them, right?” You poke fun at him, knowing he’ll ignore the cheesy question. A faint heat rises on his cheeks.

“Shut up and put this on,” he nudges one of his t-shirts into your arms before he slides your strapless dress down your body. Even with your eyes half-shut, you can feel his charged stare ogling every hill and valley of your naked form. His fingers barely skim you— a purposeful maneuver to focus on the task at hand— but your body jerks into his grasp, keen for more. Sleepy or not, you’d never waste an opportunity for a quickie. You know just how swiftly a few words and caresses on his part could have you bucking and sobbing, like putty in his han– “(Y/N), stop. You’re drunk and half-asleep.”

“Only tipsy and a quarter asleep, thank you very much.” Your eyes flutter open to see the beginnings of a smile touch his lips, but he just barely holds it back. He’s trying his damn hardest to remain stern, how cute. “Shou,” you mewl, elongating his name in the hopes that he’ll budge.

“Don’t pout at me,” he taps a chiding finger against your bottom lip, “the answer is no. I still have work to do.” Ignoring your whined protests, Shouta walks out of the bedroom. Seconds later, you hear his office door shut, a sign that he’ll be in there long into the night.

Any inkling of sleepiness your body possessed is gone without a trace, now feeling nothing but an intense heat coursing the skin your boyfriend brushed, and the alcohol left running through your veins only intensifies that warmth. You turn yourself over in bed, naively will yourself to succumb to sleep and deal with the ache tomorrow; however, your body has other plans. Your thighs press together on their own, desperate for any sort of relief to quell the throbbing between your legs, but it’s no use. Looks like you’re getting up.

With each step towards his office, you find yourself more impassioned. Who does Shou think he is anyways, leaving you alone in such a needy state? It’s not fair. He gives you the slightest taste of his touch and then cruelly rips it away. So if anything, it’s his fault that your body won’t rest until completely appeased— until he soothes the burn. Besides, you’ll be damned if you’re going to allow him the pleasure of hearing your moans through the thin walls knowing he goaded you into touching yourself.

Upon walking through the door of his workspace, you’re greeted with the sight of your boyfriend, the stealthy pro-hero, seated ever-so casually at his desk. He has a hand pressed adamantly against his temple and his hair up in a messy half-bun. So badly do you want to run your hands through it, tug the clip off so you can watch those beautiful, dark locks tumble down his shoulders. You always catch yourself silently hoping for a piece to fall in his eyes so that you can reach out and tuck it behind his ear, delighted when you have any excuse to stroke the soft waves between your fingertips.

“Shou,” you mumble, one hand rubbing at lidded eyes. The white glow of the computer screen washes over him as he turns to you, and you feel your breath hitch again at the Adonis in front of you.

He’s opted out of wearing any sort of top. Instead, gray joggers hang low on his hips, allowing you to feast your eyes on his lean chest and softly sculpted v-lines. A dark line of hair trails down into his pants, and you feel your mouth water at the idea of licking a long stripe up his navel.

“Can’t sleep.” You’re aware it comes out a whine, don’t care to correct your tone because it may just convince him to join you in bed. He rolls his eyes, your name flowing off his tongue with a low sigh— music to your ears.

“I have work to catch up on since somebody forced me to go to that stupid gala,” the accusation is probably sincere, but you smile anyways.

“Please,” there’s that whine again, “just five minutes.” This time your words are accompanied by a quick yank at the hem of your t-shirt. Your cleavage makes an appearance, and when you see his eyes wander up towards the supple globes— tongue just barely poking out to slide across his bottom lip— you know you’ve got him beat. He mutters under his breath, but the only words you catch are something along the lines of ‘pampered brat’.

Well, spoiled or not your methods work, and he’s the one indulging your whims anyways. Being curled up against Shouta’s sturdy chest, you find the fatigue of a long night creeping up on you once again. His close proximity is enough to relax you; all of your senses are engulfed in his presence, saturated with him. Your body gladly welcomes his scent with every inhale— clean laundry, aftershave, and something a bit woodier that can only be described as ‘Shouta’. Though he shaved this morning, newly grown stubble scruffs against you every time you nuzzle against his jaw. Slender fingers tangle in your hair, smoothing lazy circles into your scalp. And with your ear pressed to his chest, you realize the slow, steady drum of his heartbeat just might actually lull you into a deep sleep.

But that’s all before you hitch a leg around his hip to pull him closer. At the sensation of your heat nudged tightly against him, you feel his heartbeat rise rapidly. If any thoughts of sleep linger in your mind, the prospect of riling Shouta up— and perhaps securing an orgasm or two in the process— throws them out the window once again.

Your fingertips begin to caress his shoulders subtly, ear still pressed to his chest to listen for any jumps in his rhythm. The less he notices your movements, the easier it’ll be to overwhelm him all at once. When your fingers don’t incite any noticeable response, you run them through his hair instead. At the same time, you feign discomfort at the position you’re in and twist your hips slightly, making sure to press your core against him harder. You feel his breath hitch under you, and then your hair being jerked harshly.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he forces you to look up at his cloudy eyes, always ringed with darkness no matter how much rest he receives. Caught. You flash him your sweetest pout, gazing up at him through dainty lashes. A slight ‘hm?’ leaves your lips, but within seconds, they’re attached to his neck, shamelessly kissing and nibbling at the sweet spot near his jaw. “If you’re not going to behave on your own, I’ll make you.” Your thighs tighten around his hips, goosebumps trailing your arms at the clear-cut threat.

“Do it then,” you urge between kisses, now peppering them up his jaw. Your teeth kiss the shell of his ear before you whisper, “or I’ll just keep misbehaving, daddy.”

In an instant, your face is shoved into the mattress, arms crossed behind your back with Shouta’s cock straining against you through his pants. Rigid cotton brushes against your folds and you realize that perhaps he was expecting this turn of events more than he let on, because the fucker never bothered giving you a change of underwear.

“You’re such a needy slut,” he spits, heated breath fanning your neck while he tightens his grasp around your wrists. “Can’t go one night without getting me worked up, huh?” His free hand darts under your shirt, now kneading and pinching at your ass.

“Nope,” you bite back, always ecstatic to provide sassy retorts, especially when he’s seething like this.

A stinging pain travels your body when he slaps the globe of your ass. Once, twice, five times, each spanking invoking a louder gasp until tears prick the corners of your eyes.

“Are you done acting up?” Shouta’s tone is slow and composed, almost disinterested. If not for his heaving chest pressed against your back, you would believe him unaffected by the punishment.

You, on the other hand, are very obviously flustered. Tears stream down your face freely now, and you’re positive the spanking has left a blazing handprint on your cheek as a reminder for days to come. Shouta gives you a final, petty love tap to shake you out of your thoughts. “I don’t have all night.”

But you’re left unsatisfied, the throbbing between your thighs only worsened by his harsh welts and complete neglect of your clit. He hasn’t made a single motion towards your glistening cunt, probably won’t ever if you simply take his discipline lying down.

“What if I’m not?” The words leave your mouth hesitantly, face turning to stare back at him with wide, unblinking eyes. He doesn’t say a word, his own eyes narrowing and lips quivering into a disgusted scowl. Even though you’ve asked for this, know exactly what situation you’ve gotten yourself into, your heart quickens at the thrill of seeing your partner so worked up. He may not be outwardly angry— Shouta has always been a man who prefers quick, biting remarks over piercing screams and smashing glass— but his mannerisms tell you everything you need to know. It’s going to be a long, sleepless night.

You feel the tight, unforgiving fabric knotted around your body before you’re even aware of what’s happening. Nimble fingers quickly wrap your arms in place. Then, your legs are bent at the knees and tied securely to your wrists. Only your taut midriff and breasts touch the mattress, leaving your sopping core exposed, no way to flail or deny him entrance. You’re his to do whatever he pleases with.

“Behave.” He wraps your hair around his wide palm and yanks hard, a pained cry leaving you at the prickling in your scalp. His fingers graze your slit, but never touch you where you need him. It’s absolutely maddening. You buck into him to no avail— the cloth wraps too firmly around your limbs.

“Shou, I– I, please,” you’re practically sobbing, his name leaving your lips over and over like a prayer. But it doesn’t matter, you’ve angered him.

“Who said you could speak?” He tugs harder on your locks. The motion rocks your skull, all nerves standing on end. It fucking hurts, but the action has your slit quivering all the same. “Are you going to be a good little whore now?”

“Yes, Shou.” The response wins you a sharp slap to the ass, the sore cheek. You suppress a loud wail, correcting yourself quickly. “Y-Yes daddy, I’ll behave.” He doesn’t respond, only lets out a low growl and loosens his grip on your hair.

Then, his presence is gone. He’s moved off the bed, and your cunt pulsates at the number of delicious things he may do next.

A slam rings out from your bedside dresser and he’s back within seconds. Something foreign, hard and long, is pressed against your tight hole. No stretching, no warning, he simply sinks the toy into your slick cunt. After a few merciless thrusts you’re whimpering softly, choking back pleas. If he wanted you to beg, you’d know it.

“Is this what you wanted?” The dildo is driven into you faster. “Is this what you were grinding like a bitch in heat for?” His words are spit like venom, tone disappointed— appalled— with you, but it only fuels your steady ascension to orgasm. You’re teetering closer and closer to the edge, but you just need a bit more. His cock, a finger on your clit, anything.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You can’t help the onslaught of moans that spill from your lips in between pants. His hands begin kneading at your ass again, right cheek still flaming with every touch. If he’d only remove the bindings, now digging tightly into your wrists and ankles, you’d be able to hump back onto the toy as you so desperately wish to.

He stills all at once, leaving you distraught and gasping. If you cry out, you’ll only be met with harsh reprimands. You want to sob— for his touch, for a break, for anything to soothe the ache in your core.

You hear it before you feel it.

A small buzzing noise as something is clicked on. Then, vibrations wracking your insides, your clit— a slew of pleasure as the dildo pulses. You sigh loudly, that stubborn itch finally being appeased by the pressure of the toy.

“Is my pretty little slut enjoying herself?” Shouta laughs behind you, voice still cold and filled with loathing. It’s as though he’s repulsed by your desire, your ceaseless need for him. You mewl loudly at the thought. “Mhm, and you’re going to continue enjoying yourself,” you feel the bed dip as he steps away, “until I finish my work.”

The fucking bastard. He’s leaving you tied up and helpless with a sex toy on the highest setting. He knows you’ll be a drooling mess for him, probably only half-conscious, by the time he’s back.

“N- no Shou, please.” Your protests do nothing to sway him. He simply snickers and walks out of the bedroom, leaving you to writhe and wail on your own. And God, does it feel good. Your stomach pulls taut as you rut against the bed like– like an animal. In a constant cycle of edging and ebbing, your orgasms build and build and build until you’re hit full force, only to begin all over again. It’s equal parts satisfying and unfulfilling, because fuck, do you just want your boyfriend’s cock inside you. It’s all you can think of— his warmth, his hands roaming your body, sweet, degrading nothings whispered into your ear while he pounds into you.

You lose track of time, aren’t even sure at this point whether your body is spasming or simply attempting to dispel the thick length inside you. The pleasure has turned to an entirely different ache, swollen clit now abused by the constant vibrations. Your voice is run hoarse, face carved into a permanent wince. And despite your attempts to stay quiet, chokes and gasps still rip through your throat. Even Shouta’s cloth is soaked through with the scorching sweat enveloping your body.

Though absolutely exhausted, you’re conscious enough to hear his quick steps as he makes his way to the bedroom. You can sense the smirk plastered across his face without even seeing it.

“Tired out?” Fingertips ghost over the cloth and across your painfully numb calves, nerves jumping at the feeling. “Ah’, you’ve soaked the bedspread.” A fierce blush runs across your skin, humiliated at the sight you must seem to him— a drooling, high-strung mess. He either doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore the way your body shakes at every prod.

All you can do is let out a meager ‘Mmph’, your brain too scrambled to form anything close to words, let alone coherent sentences. “If you use your words, I’ll consider taking the toy out.” Shouta’s ruthless; he knows every inch of your body, your reactions, like the back of his hand. Of course he’d ask you to use your words. He lives to watch you come undone, thrives off the pain etched onto your features.

“Please,” the request is drawn out— paused midway to let loose another gasp— and dripping in desperation. “I can’t– I just-” It’s all you can manage in your state.

“Seems you’ve been fucked stupid,” he chuckles darkly, though the vibrations wracking your cunt finally come to a halt and the dildo is swiftly removed. Your core clenches at the emptiness. “But I haven’t had the chance to stuff this tight little pussy full,” he slaps a harsh palm against your slit, making sure to wipe the slick that now coats his palm all across your cheek. If you weren’t aware of how soaked you were before, Shouta makes damn sure that you do now. The most you can work out in response is a feeble squeak.

One of Shouta’s hands strokes at your matted hair from behind, agile fingers tidying the disheveled strands. The other rubs harsh circles on your clit; you twitch incessantly, sparks running through every inch of your body. “There’s that pained little face I love,” he grabs at your cheeks roughly, forcing your lips into a ‘o’ while grinding into your calf. “Fuck.”

Your legs and arms slump onto the mattress as soon as the cloth is unbound. Every muscle in your body aches with overuse; numbness buzzes through the limbs that were strung together for God knows how long.

Your boyfriend— sadist that he fucking is— thrusts himself into you without warning. Sure, you’ve been stretched by the toy, but your poor slit is so overworked by previous orgasms that even the slightest hint of friction invokes senseless blubbering, your tongue lolling to the side in defeat. Wet, harsh slaps of skin against skin sweep the room, mixed with cries of ‘daddy,’ ‘please,’ and senseless nothings.

“Wanna see you cum.” It’s an order more than a request, grunted into the crook of your neck. His chest flattens against your back. It should feel suffocating, should feel disgusting, considering your body is gleaming with hours worth of perspiration, but you’re enamored with the warmth— engrossed by the way your skin sizzles at his touch. His fingers are secured at your hips, propping your ass in the air and pulling it against him with every piercing thrust.

“N- no, can’t,” cheek still buried into the mattress, you muster whatever strength you have left and grip at his slick bicep behind you. He simply swats your hand away, takes your wrist between his slender fingers, and presses it into the bed. His thumb caresses the marks left by the cloth, savoring the aftermath of the punishment he inflicted.

“You can and you will.” Despite the rasp in his voice, the command still holds authority over your forlorn frame and sends prickles down your spine. You feel yourself, yet again, creeping to the edge of an orgasm. “Cum for me.”

It’s those three, simple words that have you seeing white. Breathless, your brows scrunch together and lips open into a wide ‘o’, but no sound comes out. Your whole body tenses, all senses overwhelmed by this final tidal wave of pleasure, and then finally goes slack.

You’re officially done, body worked to the point of no return. A couple more snaps of his hips and Shouta follows, your name grunted loudly as he spills into you.

For a long time you simply lay together silently, chests heaving with his body still splayed over yours. You know that eventually he’ll roll out of bed and make sure you’re all cleaned up. You always revel in the way he pampers you, taking his time to ensure he doesn’t miss a single inch of skin. If you weren’t so exhausted, he’d probably run a bath as well.

Right now, the heat is finally proving too much for you, so you tap at his hip and he slides himself out of your raw core.

“Ouch,” you wince at the friction, the ability to speak returning to you at last. The whole bottom half of your body is tender. It’ll be a miracle if you’re able to sit comfortably for the next few days.

“Surprised you actually behaved,” he chuckles, flipping you over to hold you. His fingers rub lazy circles into your back and he presses a kiss to your forehead, “You were so good for me.”

“Not like you had me tied up or anything,” you poke a finger at his chest. “And to do paperwork at that.”

“Oh,” a slow, smug smile inches across his face, “I didn’t get any work done.” You might just slap him.

“Shouta,” your voice is even, but your eyes pierce his, narrowed in disbelief, “what do you mean you didn’t get any work done?” His laugh rumbles through his chest.

“Do you think I could really focus, hearing your screeching through the walls like that?”

TAG LIST: @lookslikeleese @rat-suki @honja-saranghago @bakatenshii @theygottheircages @enjifuckersupreme @baku-no-alt @yukiimanic @sanguinekeigo @red-riot-girl642 @aurorahoneyyybunnnsss @saratour @mindninjax

Inbox or DM me if you’d like to be tagged in future fics!

#AIZAWA FUCKERS COME THRU #this took me so long i hated it for the longest #but reading over it now i think it's okay??? lmk #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #bnha #bnha smut #shouta x reader #shouta aizawa x you #daddy aizawa #sunny writes #bnha fic #mha smut #mha

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doppopoppo · 3 years

Text

|| Usahara Headcanon ||

|| Warnings : Fluffy smoochies, Usahara asking for it from Uramichi lol ||

|| Usahara • [Eddies sister] ||

Sneak Attack

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*💖

Everyone in the “Together with Maman '' crew knew Usahara was dating Eddie’s little sister. He was against it at first. He was aware of Usahara’s history with women, in general in the dating scene. He also had a bad habit of wasting his money away at gambling and panchiko. Eddie did not think he was a proper fit to be a partner for his little sister. She was old enough to make decisions for herself, but she knew her brother was simply worried for her. Usahara worked hard to prove himself to Eddie. Her mother already loved him; as he was tall, fit, had a job, youthful energy, and respectful. Usahara may make jokes that aren’t too nice, but he knew when he needed to show respect and to whom. Meanwhile, her dad thinks he’s a loser with style, so he was with Eddie in not wanting his daughter to date him.

Fortunately, Usahara did a splendid job at showing her family how serious he was about their relationship. He had initially met her when she came to pick up her drunk older brother at night after the crew went out to drink after work. He quickly slipped his number through her car window. She found him to be brave, and cute. At the same night she texted him back and the two got close rather quickly. Uramichi, Kumatani, Utano, especially Eddie, were extremely shocked to hear she found him funny.

Someone actually finds Usao-kun funny.

She found his antiques to be more funny than his jokes, but she didn’t mind at all. Likewise, she wasn’t into watching movies either. Could never sit through them. She enjoyed games, watching shows with short episodes, and simply hanging out with others. Somewhat similar to Iketeru, she tended to zone out, so her activities consisted of things that could hold onto her attention. With Usahara, things could be unpredictable and that’s what she liked the most about him. She felt good and found a kind of thrill with him. Even Eddie was surprised to hear Usahara stopped frequenting gambling places. He opted to play games with Y/N instead, which he found far more intriguing. In doing so, he was no longer as broke as he used to be. He was even able to pay back Kumatani. He also didn’t get drunk as often, and when he did, he stopped saying how he wanted to be funny and popular with girls. He had you already.

Usahara and those around him saw how he changed for the better due to making better decisions. This hadn’t been his girlfriend's goal, for she liked Usahara for him. If this change made Usahara happy, then she’ll gladly support him. When she confronted him, making sure he wasn’t just trying to “please” her family. He had let her know he rather enjoyed having pocket money, so not to worry. It was more for himself after a while, his intentions had changed. Also, a wonderful woman is by his side, so he wants to do the same. His coworkers definitely thought Usahara was being extremely out of character, but it goes to show even he can be serious in a committed relationship. And this is how Y/N’s father came to like him. Eddie is still weary of a sudden change in character.

Y/N had a free day so she came to surprise Eddie and Usahara. While walking down the familiar hallway to greet her bunny boy, she heard frantic footsteps behind her. Then, a hand grabbed her arm and pulled her into a nearby room. Or closet it would seem. She didn’t have time to react so she went to punch her capturer, just as her older brother thought her.

“OOF!” she hit a cushiony like material.

In the dark she couldn’t make out which mascot it was but she knew very well it was Usao-kun. Kumao-kun would never. “Oww, what was that for?” Usahara was rubbing his mascot's cheek. “Uramichi Oniisan already hit me today. Not you too.” Y/N can hear the pout.

“Then next time don’t go pulling me into,” she took a look around, “supply closet?” she wasn’t sure.

That didn’t matter though. Guess the surprise for Usahara was ruined, because he surprised her instead. It brought a smile to her face as she gave him a soft peck on his mascot's snout. Usahara whined because he wanted a proper kiss. It was Usahara/Y/N daily smoochie time.

Y/N chuckled, “Sneaking away into a closet for a secretive kiss?” She smirked. Of course her boyfriend would do something like this. And at work of all places. Typical Usahara, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Usahara took off his mascot head and planted a nice and firm kiss on his girlfriend. He deepens it by pulling her closer by the waist. It sure felt weird, being pushed up against his soft costume rather than his firm, toned muscles on his torso. She gave his costume a squeeze and chucked into the kiss. This caused Usahara to smile. They both have moments like this. Where they can forget about the world during intimacy but still manage to make it lighthearted.

“I have to call for you as is, must I come looking for you to come out now?”

Y/N shrieks and pulls away from Usahara.

“Isn't this too risqué for the bunny?” Uramichi smiled tightly.

Y/N can feel the venom seeping from Uramichi as she quickly shoves Usahara’s mascot's head on him. Then roughly pushed him towards Uramachi, “Sorry Chi-niisan.” She quickly apologized.

“You’re very much in the clear.” He gave her a soft smile. “Him? Not so much.” Uramichi’s smile faded and roughly pulled Usahara with him to the set. “Hey! Why not meEeE?! You ruined the moment huhuu.” Usahara was asking for another beating.

She felt bad for her boyfriend, but she took her time to make it to the set. She still had Eddie to surprise!

Author’s Note:

This was much longer than expected! It was fun to write lol. My mom started watching the anime after hearing about Iketeru. She finds Usahara funny and said he reminded her of me XD

Enjoy!

#life lessons with uramichi #big brother uramichi #usahara tobikichi #uramichi omota #usahara x reader #anime x reader #uramichi #usahara asking for it #uramichi getting annoyed at usahara #usahara tobikicki headcanon #daga iketeru #kumatani mitsuo

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yunhoiseyecandy · 3 years

Text

✕ 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞; 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞

✕ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

✕ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠; 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 ◆ 𝐟.𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✕ 𝐰/𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 𝐧𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧

✕ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬; 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥- 𝐟.𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞

[𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭]

happy birthday, @hanatiny !!! a big thanks to @barnesbabee for giving me the plot for this story

─────

it was like a constant cycle

he goes to work, deems his workers' articles unworthy of being published, and then drives home late in the night only to be greeted by the emptiness of his home.

and he was starting to lose his mind

he needed a change in his schedule, like an escape from the real world. it’s normal to grow a need to leave a place you’ve grown to get tired from after so long.

the only thing closest to an escape for him would have to be sarah, his assistant at work. but he can’t remember the last time she’s made him feel something.

it started out as fuck buddies, but hongjoong soon got bored of her. she wasn’t into the things that he was, which made hongjoong confused because she said she liked it rough.

and it’s not like he did anything that she wouldn’t want, he made sure to respect her boundaries. but he was tired of being vanilla, so he opted to do the one thing he never thought he’d do,

“mingi, are you sure this is a good idea?” hongjoong said, his thumbs swiping up and down the screen of his phone. they’ve had no luck so far, only finding sketchy accounts that seem to be run by bots. “Yeah, I mean I got olivia from this app.”

“that doesn’t mean shit, dude.” san chuckled, slapping mingi upside the head. online dating is one thing, but finding a sugar baby who only really wants money is another.

it was hard finding someone who wasn’t only there for money, and he knew it would probably take a while before he found someone, considering money is the only reason they even had an account.

he wanted someone to take care of, to get his mind away from work and only focus on the way she felt wrapped around him, focusing on the sharp gasps for air that left her mouth.

“guys, I think we should just give up alread-”

san snatched hongjoong’s phone from mingi’s hand, motioning towards him with a wide smirk on his face. “I think you’ll like her. read the description.”

hongjoong laughed, surprised at how excited san seemed to be. he looked down at his phone, mouth agape at the words on screen. he’d never seen someone as intriguing as you, and the white lace you had on only made it harder for him to not press message right then and there.

introduction

hey baby, my name’s rose. are you my next sugar daddy? I’m 22 years old, and I’m looking for someone who always has time for me.

what are my interests?

I love painting, and photography is a close second on my favorites. I’m open to just about anything, so I don’t mind it if we have different hobbies.

hard no’s in bed?

nope, I’m open to anything and everything. maybe even a little bit of pain..

"you can breath if you want." san said, and hongjoong scoffed at the younger ones words.

he couldn't peel his eyes away from the screen, you were just too pretty. and he knew he had to have you.

"you guys can leave now, I think we're done here."

—

as soon as he saw you walk into the restaurant, he knew this was going to be a long night.

you had on a black dress with small slits on the side of it that made him want to bend you over the table you two were about to eat on.

he stood up from his seat to greet you, pulling out your chair and gesturing you to sit. "you look beautiful, rose."

he really didn't know what else to say, and the words left his mouth so effortlessly.

you couldn't lie that he looked more than handsome, and you felt slightly intimidated by the look in his eyes.

"thank you. and you look really nice, too."

it was a long and comfortable evening, but you couldn't help but tease him every now and then.

sometimes by going to "grab a napkin", but just using it as an excuse to show off your cleavage. or even going as far as to flirt with the waiter, slightly touched their arm when they would bring a new glass of water.

hongjoong lost it when you both had ordered dessert, and you decided it would be a good idea to suck the chocolate off the spoon while looking right in his eyes.

you loved his reactions, and you could tell you'd be in for it tonight. but after all, that was your whole plan.

this seemed different than all of your other sugar daddy's. he was genuinely interested in you, and not only for the sex. even though, you wouldn't mind it if he was.

"I can tell what you're doing, and you might want to stop while you can," he said, leaning in towards you.

you smirked at him, tilting your head to the side. "I don't think I understand what you mean, hongjoong."

scoffing, he waved down the host to bring the check. "I doubt that, sweetheart."

—

maybe teasing him was a bad idea. because as soon as you walked through the front door of his apartment he had your clothes scattered across the floor, already leading you to his room and on the bed.

“what’s your name, baby?” his voice was deep as he whispered into your ear, biting down on the shell of it as he sat you on his lap.

you leaned back, hands resting on his chest. “rose, I thought you knew?”

he chuckled, “no, you’re real name.”

you didn’t know what to say to him. no one has ever asked you for your real name, let alone care enough to ask if rose was your actual one. you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face when he brushed his hand against your cheek, feeling the warmth through his actions.

you hesitated, leaning back into his touch. “it’s y/n..”

your lips brushed against his as you spoke, and you could taste the chocolate ice cream from earlier on them.

he hummed, his hands running up and down your body before he placed his thumb on your lip, trapping your jaw between his pointer finger and thumb. it was a soft movement, and it took your body by surprise when he tilted your head to the side so he could place wet, hot kisses all over your chest.

no one has ever done that before, and you loved the rush it gave your body. you tried your hardest to keep your legs from closing around his waist, but your underwear was starting to rub against you in a way that had your mouth closing to keep any noises from escaping your mouth.

“mhm, y/n,” he groaned into your skin. it was a beautiful name, and he thought it fit you all too well.

maybe it was the way he felt your wetness when you brushed against his shirt that had him flip you over, or it could’ve been because of the lingerie you had on. but he needed to hear you, taste you, anything that would have you screaming his name over and over again.

you gasped when he un-clipped your bra and pulled it off, tossing it on the ground and getting on his knees in front of you.

“I’ve been trying to picture how you’d look like this,” his hands ran up your legs, pushing them apart, “but nothing that I’ve imagined could ever compare to the view I have right now.”

your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as you took in everything. his lips as he dragged them up your thighs, the way his fingers teased the hem of your panties. and the way his eyes never once left yours.

“hongjoong,” you moaned as you felt him pull your underwear from your body as he returned back to his previous place. “please just do something already.”

he teased you, kissing right above where you needed him the most. he'd usually tease you since that's what you'd done to him. but right now there's no time for that.

he pressed the flat of his tongue against your clit, flicking up into it and moaning around you. your head dropped back, and you couldn't help the whine the left your mouth.

"fuck, right there."

he made sure to take his time with you, wanting to make you come more than once tonight. his movements were slow at first, but they got faster with every moan you let past your lips.

his lips parted from your core, slipping a finger in you and groaning at how wet you were. "you taste so good,"

he felt you clench around him, and he easily slipped in another finger while watching your mouth drop open again.

his mouth found its way back to your clit as he sucked on it hard, curling his fingers to push you over the edge.

"h-hongjoong!" you clenched one last time around his fingers, feeling yourself tense up when his teeth grazed your clit.

he sat up slowly, enjoying your fucked out face more than he should. and as pretty as you looked right now, he wanted to see tears streaming down your face while making you come.

you were already tired and he hasn't even fucked you yet, so to say you were excited would be an understatement.

without warning, he flipped you onto your stomach and spread your thighs apart, pulling his boxers down.

his hand grabbed the base of his cock and he dragged it up your core, his knees digging into the matress behind you.

he pushed in slowly, making sure you were comfortable and not in pain. your eyes fluttered closed at your good he felt, and you clenched tightly around him when his finger moved to draw circles around your clit.

just like earlier, his strokes were slow. but with every passing moment his hips seemed to have a mind of their own and his place quickened.

you felt one of his hands press on the small of your back, pushing you into the matress.

the angle that you were at now had you screaming his name, and you could feel his cock hit all the places your fingers never could.

he made a warmth spread through your body when he angled his hips a certain way, hitting that one spot inside of you that made a silent scream come out.

"you close, baby? gonna make a mess on my cock?"

you couldn't tell if it was because of your previous orgasm, but you came as soon as those words left his mouth, nail ripping the bed sheets as you came around him.

hongjoong's head fell back as you came, his bangs sticking to his forehead from all the sweat he's built up.

it wasn't long after you came that he pulled out, ropes of his cum lining your back as he took in the view.

you slumped onto the bed legs giving out while he went to the bathroom and turned the shower on.

never in his life has he ever taken a shower with someone, only grabbing a wet towel to clean them up. but this felt different, and he felt the need to pamper you after all the stress he's put on your body.

"can you walk, baby, or do you want me to carry you?"

─────

#hongjoong smut #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong angst #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez fluff #kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop angst #ateez scenarios #kpop boy group #kpop fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez #kpop #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #kpopidol

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runningtwiceasfast · 3 years

Text

I’ve Never Not Wanted You

This is my contribution to the Hinny Ficfest organized by the wonderful @clarensjoy - Thank you for organizing and for the fantastic contributions. I haven’t published a fic in awhile and this one is very not proofread and rough but I wanted desperately to contribute something. I hope you don’t mind this one is under the wire! Eventually I will post a cleaned up version on AO3, but in the meantime I hope you enjoy!

Prompt: “I’ve never not wanted you”

“You have to come to dinner tonight. Mum has invited another suitor and we are all going to want to watch the bloodbath.” Ron’s mouth was full of curry, so it was hard to make out exactly what he meant, but the gist was an invite for dinner.

Harry scowled in response and pushed his food away from him, suddenly having lost his appetite.

“When will Molly stop? After Ginny has killed someone?”

Ron gave a barking laugh. “Maybe. It’s hard to stop a determined Weasley though.”

“So, who is more determined? Molly to marry Ginny off or Ginny to resist?” Harry wondered out loud, still staring at his noodles as if they had offended him.

Shrugging, Ron reached over and helped himself to Harry’s discarded lunch. “Mum just wants Ginny to be happy. Wizards marry pretty young in our world and everyone else has mostly coupled off,” Ron pointed his chopsticks at Harry. “Well, except you mate.”

Harry frowned.

“I’ve been busy,” he finally said, and Ron gave a series of nods.

“Of course. Ridding the world of unstoppable evil and what not. I’m sure that’s why Mum is focused on Ginny and not you.”

“That’s a bit of a double standard, isn’t it?” Harry asked, irritated at the way the conversation had changed. The last thing he wanted to talk about was his sorry dating life. Or Ginny’s for that matter.

“The entire wizarding world is a double standard innit? Best to just make the best to just make the best of it and enjoy the show.”

Harry merely gave a small noise of assent, turning back to his noodles to find them completely gone. He looked up at Ron’s sheepish look.

“I thought you were done.”

_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Avoiding the floo network entirely, Harry opted to apparate to the Burrow, pausing outside the familiar door to collect his thoughts.

Using his free hand, he smoothed down his shirt and jeans, his other hand grasping the bottle of red wine Arthur had mentioned he liked the last time they had dined together at Grimmauld Place. He rose his hand to knock, but the door swung open before his fist even made contact.

“Harry! You’ve come to save me!” Harry was rather unprepared for the sight of Ginny, fresh faced and beautiful, greeting him at the door and found himself unable to say much of anything other than a grumbled hello as he shoved the bottle of wine at her.

She was wearing a simple black cotton dress that hugged her waist and flared out at the bottom. Her hair was down and bouncing around her shoulders. He gestured stupidly at his ears.

“You are wearing the earrings.”

She gave a tinkling laugh and pushed her hair behind her ear so he could see more clearly the diamond studs that he had given her last Christmas. “I’ve practically never taken them off. They are gorgeous. Probably one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten.” She smiled at him sincerely and he felt his heart rate accelerate uncomfortably.

“I’m glad you like them so much.” He smiled back at her and they remained that way, smiling at each other silently before Ginny was called rather abruptly from the other room.

She gave a grimace in response. “She’s invited Ernie Macmillan over can you believe it? Him and Hermione are currently fighting over some horribly boring historical fact in the other room and she expects me to marry this man?” She rolled her eyes and Harry gave a weak laugh in response.

Learning up, she gave him a light kiss on the cheek, her hand resting on his arm. “It’s so lovely to see you, Harry. Please feel free to rescue me from inane conversation as you see fit.”

She floated away and he stood there struck rather dumb for a few moments.

Following the trail of voices from the entryway, Harry entered the living area to various greetings. It appeared he was one of the last to arrive and he grabbed a butterbeer and joined in where Ron and George were huddled together by the fireplace.

“I think the formula is off. People shouldn’t be incapacitated. Just unconscious for a short while.”

George shook his head. “They are fine if you just poke them—Harry! You’ve come to join us!” George gave him a broad smile that Harry couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Is this for something you’ve already invented, or you have created something else to wreak havoc on the wizarding public?”

“Harry my dear boy, I’m not sure why it can’t be both,” George said sincerely causing Harry to snort into his bottle.

Ginny’s laughter brought their attention to where she was standing in the center of the room with Ernie.

Ron frowned. “Maybe mum actually found a winner.”

They watched as Ginny laughed again at something Ernie said, her hand placed on his arm.

“Apparently he works with Percy. Probably in the Department of who has the biggest stick up their arse,” George laughed to himself.

Harry frowned as he watched Ernie with his patrician features and pedigree push a tendril of crimson hair behind Ginny’s ear causing her to blush.

“What did that bottle do to you mate?” Ron joked and Harry looked down at the tight grip he was maintaining on his butterbeer. He loosened his grip and stretched his fingers.

Molly’s appearance in the room quieted most conversations as she herded everyone into the dining area where amazing smells were wafting. It required gymnastics in order for everyone to get into the magically enhanced room.

“No no Ginny. Don’t sit there. Sit over here by Ernie,” Molly smiled warmly at the tall boy. Ernie smiled back in a way that made Harry’s hand flinch towards his wand, imagining all the new curses he had recently mastered in his second year auror training.

“Mum it took me straining my hop to even get a seat. I’m going to stay right here,” she turned to Harry who suddenly realized how close she was. “You are ok with that right Harry?” Her eyes widened slightly and he managed to cotton on.

“Er yes sorry Molly. Ginny is fine here.” She gave him a brilliant smile and nudged his shoulder with hers.

“I think I’ve lost some of my brain cells.” Harry had to resist flinching as he felt her breath brush his hair as Ginny leaned over and whispered to him.

He gave a tight-lipped smile. “You seemed rather fond of this one,” he whispered in return to her causing her to wave a hand at him dismissively.

“I’m just trying to be nice. If I hex this one she will just bring in someone worse. I heard Malfoy was keen,” she gave a dramatic shiver, her impish smile telling another story.

Harry felt a rush of relief he tried not to analyze. “Molly can keep on bringing by all the unsuitable young men of the English wizarding world if it means I get to sit next to you.” The words are soft and filled with way too much feeling and for one frightening heartbeat he wished he could take them back.

She remained silent, grabbing a dinner roll form the passed tray and fidgeting with it between her hands. “Harry, you shouldn’t say such things to me,” she finally said mildly, refusing to look at him. “I might start getting ideas.”

Impulsively he reached for one of her hands, forcing her to drop the bread. He pulled her hand under the table and squeezed it gently.

They sat with hands clasped under the table, but otherwise ignoring each other, answering direct questions but otherwise staying mostly silent. Harry thought he saw Ginny’s face was rather shiny and he wondered what he looked like. Probably pale white and sickly.

“Ginny, how goes the season? Should I be placing my Harpy’s bets now?” Ernie asked Ginny directly causing her to drop Harry’s hand and inhale shakily.

“Oh, I’m just reserve for now. But a bet on the Harpies is always a safe bet,” Ginny gave a wicked smile causing the table to collectively give a ruckus laugh.

“Ernie, you know Ginny is the youngest reserve chaser in the league,” Molly boasted, and Harry noticed Ginny resist rolling her eyes.

“Mum, I’m so glad you support my career choice now.” The words were biting but the soft look in her eyes made Harry think Ginny actually meant them.

Harry stole a look at Justin. To his disgust the boy was looking at Ginny rather starry eyed. It isn’t like Harry could blame him; a similar look frequently graced his own face.

He was rather sick of it all though. The constant parade of unworthy men being thrust at Ginny.

The rather petulant thought that Molly had never asked him to be one of those unworthy men flew through his brain unhelpfully. Perhaps everyone had given up on the possibility of him and Ginny ever making it work.

They had made it work though. For a few blissful months they had been something new and delicate and untouchable. Frequently Harry thought back to some of those times. Of walks around the school, hands clasped and of breathless goodbyes leaving them both wanting and late for class.

Ever since the war Harry had been trying to pick up the pieces, but it had been hard and often he had found himself rather aimless. Without even realizing it, he had found that he had pulled back on all the ties that bound him-rarely coming by the Burrow, never seeing friends other than around the office and busying himself with work and tracking down rogue Death Eaters.

He had finally looked up and while he had stayed in the same spot, everyone else had moved on. Ron had ditched the aurors and found his calling with George in the joke shop. Hermione had proven herself immensely capable apart from him in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

And Ginny had graduated from Hogwarts and immediately absconded to Harpy training camp.

Unfortunately, in all his chosen one lessons with Dumbledore, the wise wizard had never told him what happens after the bad guy has been slain. What happens to the chosen one when he’s done being chosen?

In this instance it seemed as if Harry was doomed to sit there and watch as everyone he loved moved on without him. Bitterly he looked down at the roast on his plate, moving the discarded pees around with his fork.

“You gonna finish that?” Harry looked up to find he was almost done at the table, Ron leaning over him, fork in hand.

Scowling, Harry pushed his plate towards Ron who tucked in happily. “Ernie left a bit ago,” Ron said, in between bites. Harry’s eyes snapped up at that.

“Why would I care whether or not Ernie had left?” Harry snarked at him, frowning when Ron paused his eating to give Harry a knowing look.

“Either way, Ginny is in the backyard if you want to talk to her,” Ron scooped up some mashed potatoes. “Or not.” He shrugged.

Harry pushed away from the table and paused in front of the living room. He could hear the rest of the Weasley’s making their normal noises and he hesitated before joining, his eyes straying to the backyard where Ron had said Ginny was.

Whatever gravitational pull Ginny had made the decision for him as Harry turned and slipped out the door.

She was silhouetted against the starry sky, the light of the moon reflecting off her hair in a way that made his throat dry. He approached her slowly and she turned at his footsteps, giving him a warm smile.

“I came out to get some fresh air,” she told him unnecessarily and he plopped down next to her, his arm brushing hers. “These family gatherings can be a lot,” she said, her voice so quiet he could barely hear her, but that’s probably more to do with the quick sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

Feeling that same impulsive urge he had felt during dinner that let him hold her hand, he lifted his arm up and over her shoulders. They both froze at the contact, but before he could regret it, she leaned in, setting her head on his shoulder.

“Where did Ernie go?” Harry asked eventually, that familiar monster roaring in his chest.

Ginny leaned even further into his side. “He got an owl, had to go into the office.” Her hair brushed against his neck and he caught a whiff of her comforting flower scent that hadn’t changed since sixth year.

“Did you want him to stay?” He asked her, the darkness giving him some sort of courage.

She shook her head. “Not really. He wasn’t as bad as the other’s, but he’s not really who I want,” she said, voice low and husky.

Finally, she sighed deeply and pulled away, pulling her knees under the skirt of her dress and into her stomach.

“At least he seemed to want me,” she mumbled, and Harry took a deep breath, tired of always waiting for the right moment.

“I’ve never not wanted you, Ginny.”

Amazingly, the words didn’t sound weak or pathetic out loud like they did in his head. Instead, all he felt was relief.

The sound of a sharp intake of breath was the only indication that he had been heard. Summoning his Gryffindor courage, he looked up at Ginny. She was staring at him, eyes wide.

“You want me?” She asked finally, incredulously.

He ran a hand through his hair nervously. “Watching your mum parade those boys in front of you has been a special kind of hell for me Gin. I miss you.” They aren’t the most eloquent words, but they are the ones he had.

“Then why didn’t you say anything, you stupid arse?” Ginny finally spit out and Harry let out a choke of laughter.

“I’m an idiot?” He told her helpfully and she shook her head, a fond smile on her face.

“Can you come closer Harry? I need to smack you,” she laughed, and Harry obliged, scooting back towards her until there was no space between them, his body tingling in anticipation.

“So no more set ups from your mum?” He asked, moving his face toward hers so close he could feel each breath she took, could count the freckles on her face from just the soft light of the stars.

“Harry I can confidently tell you I will no longer let my mum dictate my romantic life from here on out,” she giggled and Harry fought the smile that threatened to climb up his cheeks.

“Harry,” she said, drawing his attention back to her and her lips.

“Yes?”

“I’ve never not wanted you to kiss me,” she said before closing the small gap between them, her soft, sweet lips under his. Suddenly all the pining and scowling became worth it as he rolled them over, her body under his, molding to each other as if reminding him that they’ve done this before.

As he kissed and kissed her, lips trailing down her neck, he sent a silent thank you to whatever work emergency had claimed Ernie’s attention. Tonight and forever Ginny was his. And he set about showing her over and over.

_*_*_*_*_*_*_

“Ernie Macmillan? Really?” Ron took a noisy bite of his biscuit.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Ronald,” Molly tutted, waiving her wand so the corresponding feather duster would wipe down the windows properly.

“I just want you to know that I know what you did,” Ron shrugged, gesturing out the window Molly was cleaning to where Harry and Ginny were clearly engaged in some unwholesome activities.

Molly smiled at the image the pair made before closing the curtain and turning back towards her youngest son.

“Don’t you have your own home?” He lifted his hands in surrender before leaving the room. Molly watched as he disappeared from view. Really, what was she supposed to do? Let them pine away for each other forever? No, she did the right thing. She did feel a little bad poor Ernie would have to go all the way into work to find that emergency cauldron bottom situation wasn’t quite the emergency that ministry owl had made it seem. But the boy had gotten a home cooked meal for dinner so he surely made out alright.

Smiling one more time to herself, a very satisfied Molly Weasley set about cleaning dishes, brainstorming how she might next get Percy to dinner along with that nice young man Oliver Wood.

#hinnyfic #hinnyficfest #runningwrites

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seiyasabi · 3 years

Text

きつね (Fox)

(I wanted to try something different and write a few Romaji (ローマ字) words in Hiragana (ひらがな)! I promise it won’t be throughout the fic, but I thought it would be fun for those learning Japanese to practice :))

Here’s a !DARK! Kitsune (きつね) Kakyoin (かきょいん) x Female Reader story! Please proceed with extreme caution!

TW: !NONCON!, !Foul Dirty talk!, !breeding kink!, !knotting!, !Size kink!, use of pepper spray!, you’re in the forest!,!no prep!, !gagging!, !predator/prey elements!, violence!, mentions of blood and small wounds!, !mentions of drug use and alcohol! (Not you or in detail), etc..

I’m sorry if this is too OOC!)

“Go to the forest, they said, it’ll be fun, they said,” You grumble to yourself, nearly tripping over a stray tree root. All you want to do is get out of this damn forest and pass out in your dormitory bed, but it seems like Mother Nature has another plan for you.

Currently, you’re regretting going into the creepy woods near your college. You’d only gotten to this college a few months prior, having transferred from your college in (prefecture/country) to one in rural Japan, and you thought this would be a fun experience. Your new friends claimed that the parties at a certain campground were wild and entertaining, but so far, you’d only seen a few drunken fights, you watched a girl snort a line off of another girls’ chest, and were almost shoved into the bonfire. After all of this, and the fact that your friends left you alone, you decided it was time to head home.

But, as it turns out, you walked in the opposite direction of the parking lot, getting yourself absolutely lost in the hauntingly beautiful forest. Cursing yourself for your stupidity, you tried to bring up google maps, only to be stopped by that godforsaken icon of ‘no service.’

So, you opted for your phone’s flashlight, trying in vain to figure out where was North and where was South.

“Fucking hell, I know I didn’t walk too far from the campsite, how did I get so lost?” Stumbling once again, you almost fall flat on your face, only to be stopped by a pale hand. The slender, long fingered hand grips the fat of your forearm in a firm grasp, holding you up. Seeing this, a horrified scream leaves your lips before you can stop it, thinking that the thing in front of you was an Onryō.

Looking up, you’re suddenly face to face with a large, breathtaking man in a red and white kimono. His long, red hair is twisted into an intricate updo, highlighting his sharp jawline. That, in turn, shows off his dangling earrings, which just barely brush his cheek. His purple eyes twinkle in your phone’s flashlight, a small smirk quirking his full lips.

“Hello there,” The redhead's voice is smooth, sounding like whipped butter personified, “Are you lost?”

Knowing better than to expose your vulnerability, you shake your head no, “O-oh, no, sir. I’m just heading back to the party. I’m sorry if I bothered you,” You try to wrench your arm from his grip, but he seemingly grabs on harder.

“There’s no need to lie, I heard your grumblings a few moments ago. I’ve also watched your sorry attempts of hiking through the foliage, and I’d be happy to help,” You eye him suspiciously, not trusting him for a second.

“No thank you. I’m not so sure I trust a weird man alone in the forest. I hope you understand,” He laughs at your words, sounding like wind chimes. You shift your feet in discomfort, wondering what is so funny about your cautious words.

“Don’t be silly. There’s a temple near here that I upkeep, and I was walking to the parking lot to head to a 7/11 near here. I’m heading in the same direction as you, so-“ He continues to speak, but you don’t hear a word. You never mentioned the parking lot, and if he was heading there, you’re pretty sure he would’ve just used a path that you carelessly disregarded. Noticing your sudden change of discomfort to extreme fear, he tries to comfort you, “Why that look? I promise I won’t hurt you. Here, why don’t you come to the temple and-“

You don’t give him time to manipulate you, suddenly whipping out your gel pepper spray. Chucking the cap in a random direction, you check that the nozzle is facing him, before spraying at full blast. A loud bark-like scream echoes through the air, as you’re suddenly released by his iron grip. Shoving him over, you start to sprint in the direction you just came from.

“Come back here!” The red haired man yells, a deep growl reverberating through his chest. That urges you to run faster. Flashlight aimed at the ground, you leap and hop over foliage and debris, trying your hardest to evade the freak of a man currently after you. You can hear his footsteps behind you, the forest suddenly silent.

Your body runs cold at the realisation; just what is this man, and why are the critters so afraid of him?

Not deciding to find out, you then run in a zigzag fashion, trying to get him off of your tail. The crunch of sticks and leaves are constant, the loudest ones being the hulking man behind you.

“You can’t outrun me, Pretty Girl!”

Your chase goes on for a while longer, until you see the unmistakable light of a fire. This causes you to go faster, the idea of safety appealing.

But, unfortunately for you, you didn’t notice the undeniable silence ahead of you. When you left, the music was practically earth shattering, along with the chatter of inebriated college kids and the loud noise of their cars and motorcycles.

When you reach the fire, you’re greeted with the sight of a dark wooden structure. It’s a temple, but it looks a lot bigger than a normal Shintō one. In fact, it looks straight out of the fantasy anime your roommate made you watch with her.

Taking your chances with the forest, you turn to run back into the dark green foliage, only to be tackled back first onto the stick covered dirt below. The twigs stab into your uncovered covered skin, drawing blood, as the kimono clad man above you pants in both pain and anger.

He brings his face close to yours, making you turn yours away from his with a whimper. His warm breath fans across your uncovered neck, his purple eyes practically glowing down at you. The white around his irises are bright red and teary, showing the effect your weapon has against him. In the lightly you notice two flattened ears on the top of his head, making you gasp in surprise and confusion. Was this a guardian of the Forest? Or was this a demon here to steal your soul?

“Why must you hurt me? I haven’t done anything to you,” He sounds somewhat hurt that you maced him, but who could blame you? If some creep approaches you in the forest, you fight first, ask questions later.

“Why are you coming after me? There’s no reason for you to chase after me,” One of his rough hands grips your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His mouth is parted slightly, his sharp teeth glinting in the fire light as his face twists into a smirk.

“It’s always fun chasing after prey,” He leans in closer, lips just barely touching yours, “Especially when the prey is as adorable as you. Now, we can do this the hard way, or the easy way; if you let me have you, we can go at your pace. If you don’t, I’ll take you however I want.”

To say you’re shocked is an understatement, “Wha-what do you mean, ‘take me’? Didn’t you just say that you’re going to eat me?”

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t. I’m still quite full from the meal I had earlier. I should thank those villagers; without them, I wouldn’t have been able to eat those delicious friends of yours,” All blood leaves your face, did he just say that he ate-

Looking at his kimono, you realise that the red isn’t a pattern at all; it’s blood splatter!

“Oh my god,” You place a shaking hand on his chest, trying to push him away, “What the fuck? Holy shit- is that why the forest is so quiet? They know it’s your feeding time? Holy fuck-“ He silences you with a heated kiss, practically forcing his tongue down your throat. Lithe hands grope at your cropped tank top covered breasts, trying to squeeze the fat underneath, only to be blocked by your push up bra. Shoving with your entire weight, you’re still unable to force him off of you. Without thinking, you bite down on his tongue, drawing out another bark of pain from the ginger.

That gives you enough time to breathe and regain your composure. Trying to wiggle out from underneath the muscular male, you’re quickly lifted and flipped onto your front, face pressed against the dirty ground.

“My mother always told me that females are hard to get, but I never knew it would be this painful,” He spits a mouthful of blood out onto the ground near your head, making you cringe away from that spot, scraping your chest against a particularly sharp twig. A small yelp escapes your throat at the pain, trying in vain to use your arms as a barrier against the sticks and stones below you, “Awe, did my pretty girl hurt herself? That’s okay, I’ll still think that you’re pretty.”

“Get off of me! What are you trying to do? If you’re going to eat me, get over with it already!” Finally being able to push yourself up onto your forearms, you try to buck him off of you, only to hear a high pitched whine echo out from behind you. Freezing in surprise, you peek at him from, only to be met with a ruby red face.

“Did you know that foxes go through a mating season?”

“What the hell does that have to do with any-?” You’re suddenly shoved back onto the floor, tits practically spilling out of your top.

“I’m going to breed your empty womb, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You’re going to bear me many cute pups, and you’re going to stay here with me until the end of your days.”

“Go find some female kitsune! I don’t want to have your babies!” Your stomach scrapes painfully against stones below you, dripping more blood onto the dirt.

“But that’s the thing- you don’t get a choice, Pretty Pretty. You clearly can’t care for yourself! You got lost in the woods, for Gods’ sake! Now, obey your mate, and let me in,” He looks down at your cute mini-skirt, and flips it over your ass, exposing your emerald green thong. His cool fingers ghost over your unblemished ass cheeks, a hitched breath echoing through the Kitsune’s chest, “Oh, pretty girl, did you wear this for me? How did you know my favourite colour?”

“Get off of me! I didn’t do any-“ He suddenly rips your panties from your cute cunt, before shoving them into your open mouth. You try to spit it out, but are unable to. Tears gather in your eyes, as you start to cry. This strange man is about to do the worst thing a person can do, and he doesn’t seem to care about your feelings.

“Don’t cry, I’ll take care of you and our pups,” He spreads your legs open, giving him easier access to your soft pussy, “Ah, there’s your pretty cunt. Everything about you is so pretty, aren’t you lucky? If it weren’t for that and your perfect fertile womb, I would’ve eaten you.”

He kneels on your shins, shoving down your front, arching your ass up into the air.

“You smell amazing. It’s like your body is just calling for my thick seed. Don’t worry, Pretty Girl,

I’ll give it to you.”

You hear his kimono shift, most likely pulling out his cock. This makes you choke on your sobs, as you try to pretend that this moment isn’t happening. That some monster of the forest isn’t about to breed you full of his-

A scream escapes your throat the moment you feel his wet cock head against your unprepared pussy. You thought he’d at least prepare your cunt, but it seems that he’s trying to go in dry. He grunts when he feels you starting to thrash, using the hand that once held his cock to smack your ass harshly.

“Stop it. You can’t change my mind! Jotaro will be so jealous when he finds out I got the most beautiful, fertile, and resourceful mate. Now, hold still,” You don’t understand what he’s talking about, but you can’t help but feel shame. You know his friend’s name, but not his own! The least your rapist could do is tell you his name! As if sending this, he rubs one of your ass cheeks reassuringly, “I suppose you’d like to know your mate’s name, huh? I’m Noriaki Kakyoin. There’s no need for you to say your name, I heard you introduce yourself to those… disgusting humans earlier. But don’t worry, you won’t have to deal with them ever again.”

He releases your ass in favour of gripping his cock once more, pushing its tip into you with some trouble. You scream through your makeshift gag, the pain of him pushing in feeling like he’s tearing your pussy apart.

“Awe, are you a virgin? My mom always said a female’s first time is painful,” You want to shove a stick up his ass unlubed! Let’s see how he likes getting something forced inside of him without preparation! “But don’t worry, you should feel good once I’m fully inside.”

With that, he forces himself in until he’s fully seated inside of you. Another scream escapes your throat, as you feel a small rivulet of blood dribble from your now torn cunt. By this point, you’re hyperventilating in pain, anxiety, and fear. This man is so thick, that you’re pretty sure your pussy will never go back to its original size ever again.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. I knew you were the right one for me,” When he starts to move, that’s when one of your hands claws at one of his that’s resting on your hip. You feel his skin break under your nails, as you try in vain to make him stop. It feels like he’s splitting you in two! “Does my pretty girl feel good?” You shake your head rapidly, drowning in your pained sobs, “Don’t lie, I feel you getting wet.”

Can’t he smell that that’s blood?

You hiccup and wheeze, tears and snot dripping down your pretty face into the dirt. When he starts to buck his hips, you feel like you’re going to throw up. His cock is so heavy inside you, that you feel like he’s rearranging your guts.

“I feel the opening of your womb on my tip, it’s almost like you’re trying to suck my cock into it!” Kakyoin starts to move his hips faster, making your body go limp. It’s almost like your body is going into shock at the severe pain you’re in, “You sure want my pups, even if you claim you don’t. I’m so close to filling you with my seed, so you won’t have to wait any longer to be filled!”

He bucks into you at top speed, his own hips crashing into yours harshly. His heavy sack smacks against your ignored clit, sending small jolts of pleasure through your body. But, it’s not enough to make this easier for you. Your pussy is barely producing any slick, making this a lot harder for you to handle. The next time this happens, you know there’s going to be a next time, you should probably explain to him how to prepare you for his horse cock.

“Shit, shit, I’m gonna fill you up, Pretty Girl. I’m going to make you heavy with five pups, hell, maybe even fifteen! Then once you have them, I’ll fill you up with even more! Doesn’t that sound nice? Your womb will never be lonely again!”

He thrusts into you with three more powerful thrusts, before slamming his entire length inside of you at once. The head of his cock is right up against your womb, so when his entire length starts to swell, you can practically feel it prying at your cervix. More fat tears rain down your face in this rivulets, your fingers digging into the dirt, cutting up your nimble hands. Kakyoin grunts and growls in a deep voice, savouring the way your walls throw around him in pain.

Whilst his cock is fully swollen, he releases all the cum he has into you. The large amount of seed isn’t all able to force its way into your cervix, causing it to pool in the canal of your cunt, bloating your stomach out slightly.

“I can practically smell my seed taking. Your perfect body is accepting me very well, Pretty Pretty. I told you that we’re mates, and this just proves it,” he strokes your head softly, trying to console you as you continue to cry. At this point, he starts to become concerned, why haven’t you stopped crying? “What’s wrong? Didn’t you cum?”

When you don’t shake or nod your head, he releases one of your hips, in favour of yanking your panties out of your mouth, allowing you to breathe with ease and finally speak.

“You’re such a Monster,” You sob, face pressed against the cool packed dirt below you, “I-I can’t believe you-if you were going to rape me why didn’t you prepare me?” He makes a small whimpering noise, not quite understanding your gripe.

“What do you mean?” You start to cry even harder, almost making yourself sick.

“My pussy is torn open! I’m bleeding! The only one who felt nice is you!” You start to gag, unable to catch your breath properly without somewhat choking on your spit and snot, “Now I’m pregnant with your rape babies, and-and it hurts so bad! Get out of me!”

You try to yank yourself off of his inflated cock, but he quickly stops you, trying not to hurt you even more. Looking down, he sees a large pool of blood below the place the both of you are connected. He gasps in shock. Sure, he knew that some girls bleed their first time, but this doesn’t look right!

“What-why are you bleeding so much?”

“Because you tore me open! I hate you! I hate you! I wish you just killed me!”

Whilst he’s still stuck inside you, you continue to cry, which makes him feel even worse. He can’t believe that he hurt you so severely. This was never his intention, after all, both parties are supposed to feel good, are they not?

But now, he’ll never be able to make you love him.

How could you love someone as monstrous as him?

#yandere kakyoin #yandere kakyoin noriaki #yandere kakyoin x reader #kakyoin x reader #Kakyoin Noriaki #tw: noncon #dark fic #yandere jjba #jjba x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader

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pucksnsticksnhockeyboys · 4 years

Text

never isn’t an option - pt. 1

summary: you’re tired of hiding how you feel from Matthew, so you risk everything for a chance at happiness

word count: 5.2k

warnings: a couple of swears, allusions to sex, angst

note from the writer: I'd like to thank @hockeymenorattractiveboys and @spookymakar for listening to me ramble about how to format this. I’d also like you all to let me know what you think :) please don’t hate me :)

read part two here

If there was a time that you ever turned down the chance to spend time with Matthew Tkachuk, something was wrong. He was your person, the one you texted when you had good news and a bad day. The one that could cheer you up with a grin and a terrible joke. He kissed your cheeks to dry your tears and held you close and told you how much he loved you every day.

He was the closest thing to a relationship you had.

But Matthew Tkachuk didn’t do relationships.

See, he did all of those things from the comfort of a best friend position. He’d make you wear his jersey to games and facetime you late at night while he’s on roadies but he still went home with other girls while you smiled and laughed with his teammates as if your heart didn’t walk out of the bar with him, chasing after whoever was lucky enough to get him for the night.

And the next day, like nothing ever happened, he’d show up at your door with breakfast in hand and bruises on his neck that you so desperately wanted to be the cause of.

It was a brutal cycle, and you were nearing the end of your rope, if you were being honest with yourself.

Still, when you got the text saying that since the boys only had a late practice the next day, everyone was going out, you knew you’d let Matt convince you to go. And he didn’t really have to do much convincing, he just flashed you a smile and you were getting ready to head out.

Pregame was at your apartment, for whatever reason, and you were putting on the finishing touches as you listened to the rambunctious hockey players that took over your kitchen. You opted to ignore the sound of glass breaking, followed by several of the boys yelling at Sam. Instead, you sighed and started fixing your hair in the mirror.

“Damn, maybe I might have to just take you home tonight.” A voice called, and you would have jumped at the sudden sound but you had seen Matt slip into your room in the mirror’s reflection. Stomach twisting with nerves and the desire to tell him ‘please’, you rolled your eyes. It was the same comment each night, he’d compliment you and shower you with attention until it was time for him to find the night’s hookup.

“What’d Sam break?” You opted to ask, ignoring both his comment and the way his arms wrapped around your middle from behind you. Matt chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder while swaying slightly. He was studying you in the mirror, you could feel his gaze raking up and down your reflection and to try and ground yourself, you rested your hands atop his forearms.

“Just a glass.” He hummed after a moment and you had nearly forgotten the question entirely. You sighed in response, knowing you had to go out and clean up before someone hurt themselves. As if anticipating that you were about to leave, Matt’s grip tightened around you, your heart skipping a beat in sync with the action. “Johnny’s got it. He knows where the broom is.”

“Well, we can’t just stay in my bedroom all night.” You chuckled, and though you had been the one to make the first move to leave you found yourself relaxing into his hold. You caught a glimpse of Matt’s face in the mirror, a wicked grin on his face and it was then you realized what you had said. “Not like that, Matthew.”

“You said it, not me.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the junction of where your neck met your shoulder before standing to his full height. You pushed away the feeling of butterflies in your stomach at the contact, and instead focused on not tripping over your own feet as Matt spun you around to face him, his hands settling on your hips to steady you. “You look good tonight, like really good.”

“Thanks, Matt.” You smiled so wide your cheeks ached, hands busying themselves by needlessly brushing across the shirt covering the broad expanse of his chest. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Is that why you’re feeling me up?” He questioned, a lightness to his voice that let you know he was just teasing. You rolled your eyes, hoping you didn’t look as affected as you were by his hands sliding from where they previously were on your waist to their new spot a little too low on your back for being just friends.

“You started it, Tkachuk.” You retorted. This is how it always was with Matt. He’d tease and flirt and have you nearly falling at his feet and just when you thought that maybe your feelings were reciprocated he’d turn around go home with someone that was decidedly not you.

“And I can finish it, too.” He hummed, leaning down to speak directly in your ear as your eyes fluttered shut.

Cocky, you thought. Still, a chill ran down your spine and you felt yourself keening into his touch. You weren’t sure whether or not to scream or be thankful for the door opening just then.

“Come on, lovebirds. We’d like to get to the bars at some point.” Rasmus jeered playfully, his grin wide and showing that he knew exactly what he was saying. Matt groaned, and without turning to look at his teammate he flipped him off. Taking the chance while Matt was distracted and only had one hand on you, you slipped out of his grip.

“Not a word.” You mumbled to Rasmus as you slipped past the defenseman. He chuckled, raising his hands in innocence as if he hadn’t just made a comment about your feelings for his teammate. Besides Matthew, Rasmus was the one you were closest to on the team. One night, after a few too many drinks and having to watch Matt leave the bar with someone that wasn’t you, you confessed that you had feelings for him. You had sworn Rasmus to secrecy, and each day since then you had to put up with him urging you to confess to Matt himself.

Matt had been right, Johnny handled the mess and Sam apologized for breaking a glass. You waved him off, opting to take the shot that was being offered to you. It wasn’t healthy to mask your feelings for the curly haired menace that was finally retreating from your bedroom alongside Rasmus with alcohol—but it definitely made it easier to be in the same room as him.

You ended up being squished between Sam and Matt in one of the two Ubers ordered to get everyone from your apartment to the bar, and Matt’s arm wound around your waist to pull you closer to his side. As soon as you arrived at the bar, Matt slipped his hand in yours and used the connection to make sure you never strayed far from his side.

He was being more handsy than usual, tugging you into his chest at any given chance and setting his hand on your leg when sitting in the booth, and you weren’t the only one that noticed. Not only did you receive looks from his teammates, but their significant others who weren’t all accustomed to your odd relationship with Matt.

But then it happened. Like every time before, you could feel Matt’s attention slip from you. It was like clockwork, you knew you had at the very most three minutes after Matt first spotted his target for the night until he left you. And this time it was no different.

Of course, you thought, watching Matt cross the bar to greet the pretty blonde with a smile and one of his lines. Distantly, you heard your name being called, but it was only when you felt someone jab your side did you tear your gaze from Matt. It was Dillon, and he was giving you a sympathetic smile you really wished he wasn’t.

“What’s up?” You asked nonchalantly, as if you hadn’t just been caught staring at the man who unknowingly held your heart flirt with someone else.

“He really does like you, you know.” Dillon told you, sounding a little too insightful for someone you had seen get checked into the boards only the night prior. You forced a laugh, the same one you always did whenever someone made a comment, whenever Matt told you about his sexcapades.

“He’s right, Matt’s just too dumb to know.” Sam butted in from across the table, taking a swig of his drink and succeeding in gaining the attention of the rest of the guys at the table. Your smile was too tight and too tiny and even the guys you weren’t as close with were able to see right through you. The last thing you needed was any of them trying to take a peek at the feelings you buried deep and kept hidden.

“I think I’m going to call it a night, early day tomorrow and all.” You lied. You had no plans until three in the afternoon, when you had promised your friend that you’d go shopping with her so she could find something to wear to her cousin’s wedding. You waved goodbye to the table and stopped at the bar to tell Rasmus you were heading out, and it was then that you were met with your next obstacle.

“There you are! This is Brooke.” Matt called cheerfully, waving you down as you tried to pass him and introduced you to the girl that had captured his attention. Your stomach twisted and tied itself up in knots, but no matter how sick you felt not a single part of you blamed her. After all, you desperately wanted to be in her place; she held Matt’s attention in a way that you could only hope for.

“It’s nice to meet you, but I was actually heading out.” You smiled sweetly, turning your gaze to Matt during the second half of your sentence. He pouted, and not in his over-the-top dramatic way you were used to seeing when you’d leave parties early, but a genuine frown.

“It’s too late for you to be going home alone, though.” He tried to reason, and though his attention was on you and that was truly all you ever wanted he still had a hand resting on Brooke’s leg as she sat at the bar. You opened your mouth to argue that you went home by yourself every time and that he never was around by the end of the night to watch, but a heavy body slid in beside you and clapped a hand on Matt’s shoulder.

“I’ll make sure she gets home safe, man.” Rasmus promises, and you force a smile on your face. You feel nauseous, because it’s then that you realize you want nothing more than for Matthew to be the one to make sure you get home safe and it’s then that Matt takes a step closer to Brooke, hand rising just a few inches higher up her leg.

“Alright, talk to you guys later.” Matt says after a moment and he pulls Rasmus in for an abridged version of a bro hug, and you fully expected to just send him a wave and be on your way. Instead, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you in close, sealing your fate with a kiss to your hairline.

You smile politely at Brooke as a form of goodbye, but she was wearing an unimpressed expression while looking at Matt look at you. You weren’t sure why he so blatantly displayed affection towards you while trying to hookup with someone else, but you pushed that though deep, deep down and followed Rasmus out of the bar as he announced the car he ordered at some point arrived. The air was cold against your flushed skin and it was only after the bar was out of sight and you were secured in the backseat of the Uber did Rasmus speak.

“You’re going to have to stop doing this to yourself someday, you know.” His voice was quiet and kind, the opposite of what it was like on the ice, but you still felt like you were being scolded. When your only response was to nod and continue picking at your nails, he sighed. “You both are too stupid for your own good.”

“Well, that’s helpful.” You tried joking, but your voice was tight and you hated how pathetic you sounded. Rasmus let out a breathy chuckle, and you saw the Uber turn onto your street.

“It’s the truth.” He teased, and you rolled your eyes. The car was slowing to a stop in front of your building, and as much as you loved Rasmus, you were thankful for the chance to escape the conversation. “You’ve both been in love with each other since forever and neither of you are willing to admit it. So you pine after him and hurt your own feelings and he tries to find replacements for you, but they never last, because as you might know—they aren’t you.”

Your eyes widened at his words. It certainly wasn’t the first time he had made jokes about you and Matt, but that’s all they had been before. They were jokes. Now, though, he sounded so serious and as you searched his gaze you found not a single ounce of humor. Never had he been so direct and you felt as if his analysis had been broadcasted to the entire neighborhood instead of just you and the poor Uber driver who was waiting for you to get out.

“Goodnight, Rasmus.” You spoke quickly, gathering your things and climbing out of the car. He didn’t say anything else, just shot you a knowing look to tell you to get your shit together. He might’ve been right, but you were too caught off-guard to tell him that. So instead, you told him to text you when he got home safe and shut the door behind you.

Five days later, and you were still thinking about Rasmus’ comments.

You were thinking about it so much that at one in the morning, you found yourself anxiously pacing your kitchen. Your friend had fallen asleep on you, leaving you with the advice that you should just tell Matt how you feel. She reasoned that if his teammate told you he loved you, then chances are that he felt the same way. You argued that maybe he only said that to try and cheer you up.

You hated that she had reason on her side.

It was reason that had you, after your twentieth lap around your kitchen, pulling up Matt’s contact and dialling his number. You thought about texting him about your feelings, but that was way too impersonal. Throwing caution to the wind, you listened to the ringing of the phone, deciding that if he didn’t answer or you chickened out after hearing his voice, you’d simply tell him you meant to call your friend Mark but accidentally clicked on the contact for Matt.

“Hello?”

He sounded a little groggy, and you wondered if you had woken him up. Guilt shot through you, he had an early flight in the morning to the east coast and he needed his sleep. You were losing your nerve quickly, and if you didn’t say what you needed, then you’d never do it.

“Can I come over?” At least you got to the point.

“Yeah, of course.” He mumbled, sounding a little more awake. You let out a breath you hadn’t known you had been holding, and started to grab your keys. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m—yeah, good.” You couldn’t exactly say you were fine. You were incredibly stressed and more nervous than you had ever been, but you knew saying that without context would worry him. And you couldn’t give him the context over the phone.

“You sure?” He tried, clearly having picked up on the anxious edge to your voice. You nodded despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, and slipped out of your apartment.

“Be there in fifteen, Matt.”

It was the longest fifteen minutes of your life.

By the time you reached his place and got past the doorman, who greeted you with a smile and knew you by name, you were ready to jump out of your skin. But Rasmus’ words were bouncing around your head uncontrollably and you needed closure, even if that meant you didn’t have Matt in your life after your next conversation.

Your knuckles barely connected to his door in a knock before it swung open, and Matt revealed himself in nothing more than grey sweatpants hung low on his hips. You smiled despite your nerves, and he tugged into his apartment and into his arms before mumbling a hello.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” He hummed, keeping you close to him. You wanted to scream and shout and go home, stomach in knots and heart pounding so loudly you might need to consult a doctor.

Now or never, and never wasn’t an option anymore.

“I love you, Matt.” You forced yourself to say, feeling like you were going to be sick the moment the words left you. Matthew didn’t react poorly to your confession, in fact, he didn’t react at all, which was concerning in an all new way that you hadn’t thought about at first.

“I love you, too.” He replied easily, and you found yourself pulling away slightly and shaking your head at him. He wasn’t understanding, and that couldn’t have been a good sign.

“No, Matt, I’m in love with you.” You clarified, watching as his brows shot up and a look of realization crossed his face. You watched as his face fell and watched as his arms moved from around you to hold your arms at the elbows.

“Oh.” Was all he said. It was all he had to say to send your world crashing down around you.

One simple word from him and you knew you had just ruined your friendship.

“I’m sorry, I-I’ll go. You have an early flight, and—”

“Y/N, wait.” He called, holding you tighter so you couldn’t escape his grip. You shook your head, trying to will away tears you knew were coming and desperately hold onto your last shred of dignity.

“No, it’s fine Matt. I shouldn’t have said anything.” You assured him, slipping out of his grip and heading towards the door. He was trailing after you, you could feel his presence, so it was only once the door was open and you were standing in his hallway did you acknowledge that he had been calling your name the entire time. Spinning to face him, you pointlessly wiped away tears that had been falling and would continue to fall for what seemed like the rest of your life. He looked like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as he tried to put his thoughts into words.

“We can still be friends?” It was a question; not even he was sure. You forced a smile, sniffling pathetically as you shrugged. He reached a hand out as if to caress your cheek, a dejected look in his eyes that only worsened when you took a step back to avoid his touch.

“I’ll need some space, Matty.” The words broke your heart but they needed to be said, and when he offered nothing more than a weak nod you took that as your cue to leave. You let yourself sob in the elevator and you meekly scurried past the doorman, trying to hide your face from him so that he couldn’t see you had been crying. You sat in your car for ten whole minutes before you deemed it safe to drive through your tears, and even then you took the long way home to avoid traffic.

Once back in your apartment, you forced yourself to drink a glass of water and slowly changed into pajamas. There was an ache in your chest that hadn’t been there before and you knew that it was due to Matt’s rejection. There was no fight left in you as you pulled up your texts, tiredly typing out a simple message to Rasmus before plugging in the device and setting it down for the night.

You were wrong.

Matthew felt wrong.

He felt as if his world had been turned upside down, inside out, and then inverted for good measure. He was confused, lost, and moping around his apartment and practice arena so often the boys had started ignoring him all together.

And it had only been a week and a half without you.

Somehow, despite his constant sour mood, he managed to convince Johnny to come over for a drink. Really, it was just a ruse to grill him about you. How you were doing, if you were heartbroken, and if you were talking to any of the other guys—because you hadn’t answered any of his texts in a week and a half.

Johnny had seen right through him, but he refused to acknowledge Matthew’s anxious behavior until the takeout was eaten and they were perched on the couch.

“Well?” Johnny started. Matt nodded for no good reason, bouncing his leg and running a hand through his hair to try and distract himself. He couldn’t collect his thoughts, but he was thankful his friend was there and waiting patiently—well, he was there and waiting with an unimpressed look on his face.

“The other day—”

“Y/N told you she loves you. And you turned her away.” Johnny finished for Matt, his tone bored. Matt nodded, feeling like he was being scolded for something he wasn’t sure of. “Because…?”

“Well, I don’t… I don’t know?” Did he love you? When you had confessed to him, he hadn’t thought he loved you in that way. But now, it had been the longest week and a half of his life without you. He felt like he was heartbroken, but did that mean he was heartbroken?

“Do you really think that you don’t love her?” Johnny asked, snapping Matt out of his thoughts. The curly haired boy looked to his friend with a confused look, not because of the question but because of his own feelings.

“What makes you say that?” Matt asked, genuinely curious. He loved you as his friend, loved you as his confidant, but did he love you as his person?”

“Every time we all go out, you make me text you when she goes home so you know she’s safe. You’re all over her all the time, and you pretend to be her boyfriend so guys don’t hit on her.” Johnny listed, and Matt would have made a comment about how he had those examples ready to go if they hadn’t sent him spiraling.

Matt thought he did all of those things as a friend. He was a good guy and you were his best friend; he was just trying to take care of you. But hearing Johnny list the endless reasons why it was so completely obvious that he loved you, he realized that he did all those things because you were his best friend and yet you were so much more.

“I love her.” Matt stated, sounding a little dumbfounded and a lot happy. It wasn’t a question anymore, he loved you, he knew it from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet. He wanted you to be his best friend that he kissed and cared for, and even though he did those things already he wanted the extra addition of a label so that he could proudly show you off. He loved you, and—

And he let you walk out the door.

“Fuck, man.” Matt groaned, leaning back into the couch and running his hands over his face. Johnny was resisting the urge to say ‘I told you so’ and if Matt had a free thought to spare he would have thanked him, but he was too busy worrying about you and what you were doing and how he was going to make this up to you. “Fuck!”

“Yeah, you’ve messed things up.” Johnny offered, unhelpfully, and Matt let him know just that as he shot him a glare. Matt felt ten times worse, now that he had realized what he truly lost. Before, you were his best friend that walked out of his life after he stupidly couldn’t see what he had. Now, he had lost the love of his life, the one person that knew him better than he probably knew himself.

“She’ll never talk to me.” Matt complained, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees and his face in his palms. He hadn’t meant to try and earn sympathy from Johnny, he was just sulking and needed to voice his depreciative thoughts.

“No, never isn’t an option.” Johnny swiftly kicked Matt’s foot to earn his attention. He looked to his friend, who looked more serious than he had ever seen, and knew he needed to listen. “You’re both miserable without each other. Call her, and beg for forgiveness.”

“What if she—”

“She won’t.” Johnny interrupted, not bothering to entertain any negative thought that Matt could’ve come up with. Matt pouted, watching as Johnny stood to his feet and prepared to leave. He had left Matt with all the information and advice he had, and now the ball was in Matt’s court. Both of them knew what he had to do, and for the sake of everyone, he needed to do it soon.

It was only after Johnny was standing at the door with his coat on, did he turn to face Matt and send him the first sympathetic look of the evening. Matt didn’t know if he preferred the annoyed looks or this one, neither sitting right with him. He didn’t have long to ponder, because Johnny patted him on the shoulder and left him with some parting advice.

“She loves you, too, man.”

And then he was gone, and Matt was left with flashbacks to the night you left. He cursed himself, slipping back into his apartment and searching for his phone that he discarded in the kitchen at some point.

He wasn’t sure why it was so hard for him to dial your number, suddenly. He knew you loved him, you had said so himself, but there was something holding him back. He had hurt you once already, the image of you pulling back from his touch that night stinging like a fresh wound. But he had a chance to make things right, to make both you and him incredibly happy.

And he’d be damned if he was going to miss it twice.

He dropped onto the couch as he dialed your number, checking the time to make sure it wasn’t too late. It was before midnight, and you had called him past one in the morning, so he decided he was fine. Despite the early hour, the phone kept ringing and just as Matt’s stomach twisted and he was debating leaving a voicemail—declaring his love over voicemail was not the most romantic thing—you finally picked up.

“Hello?” You asked, and just the sound of your voice made some of the tension Matt had been holding in his shoulders for the past week and a half dissipate. He heard someone else in the background talking, but he ignored it, assuming it was the television.

“Hey.” Matt breathed. Silently, he wondered how stupid he was if he had honestly thought the way he felt about you was anything more than platonic. “What’re you up—”

“Matt, I’m on a date right now, I can’t talk.”

And that felt like a knife to the chest. It wasn’t the television he heard in the back, but in fact it was the voice of your date. His stomach lurched and he sat up straight, mouth pressed in a firm line. As Matt stayed quiet, he heard you mumble to your date that you’d need a moment before a door shut, and he assumed that you had slipped away to finish your conversation.

“Who are you with?” The words felt poisonous in his mouth, and with the way it felt like Matt’s chest was caving in, he worried that you would actually be his cause of death. He heard you sigh, and he could imagine you running a hand down your face in the way you always did when you didn’t want to answer a question.

“A friend of a friend, his name is Nick.” You told him, your voice sounding tight. He wasn’t sure why he asked, he couldn’t care less about the answer. Really, he just didn’t want you to hang up and go back to a guy that wasn’t him.

“It’s eleven at night, how are you still on a date?” He tried to joke, tried to hide his pain, because if you were on a date with someone else he’d let you. He’d already hurt you once, and if you were happy with this Nick guy, then he’d let you be.

“Clearly because it’s going well.” You nearly leveled him completely with your response. And if you had killed him before, that single comment was the final nail in his coffin. He knew what you were alluding to, that the date had gone so well you had gone back to his place. He felt like he was going to be sick, thinking of you in some other guy’s apartment, another guy getting to see you in every way he wanted to.

“Oh.”

“Look, Matt, I’ve got to go.” You didn’t sound happy, that was clear. Was it because of him? He shouldn’t have called you, because now he broke his own heart. His next thought was a heavy weight on his shoulders, and he desperately wished he could go back to being blissfully ignorant to his own feelings.

Did he make you feel as terrible as he did then?

“Yeah, yeah of course.” He pursed his lips, not wanting to hang up first and share you with another guy. It wasn’t sharing, truly, because he didn’t have you at all and whoever this Nick was had you entirely, at least for the night. And because Matt felt like things couldn’t get worse, he added his next comment, “Have fun.”

He absolutely did not want you to have fun.

“Bye, Matty.” He wished you didn’t use the nickname and he wished that you’d call him that for the rest of his life—of your life, together. He chuckled humorlessly, the thought that he could have had you for forever only a week and a half ago was enough to make him want to scream. Mumbling a goodbye, he hung up before he had the chance to break his own heart more.

Johnny was wrong.

Never, apparently, was the only option.

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