#if i fuck this assignment up might as well try to put my whole pussy into this and burn myself out

[sinfulforrest]

gotta pull an all nighter for an assignment I have no idea how to even start or write so I drew a moodboard of my special ✨️ Forrest Moods(tm) ✨️that I am currently experiencing

[theredsuzuran]

Kᴏᴋᴜsʜɪʙᴏᴜ, ᴅᴏᴜᴍᴀ x ғᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ [ NSFW ❣︎ ]

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵐᵘᵗ ˢᵒ ᵃᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ʸᵃʸ¡

Kokushibou~

Tags : non-con, dom-sub, hate sex, fingering, creampie, belly bulge.

"I believe you want to decapitate my head, no?"

The demon spoke calmly while teasing that swollen clit of yours on the other hand his long wide digits pumped in and out of your tight wet core vigorously. Ending up like this after dedicating your life to the crops is rather humiliating but instead of cowering with shame and disgust, you find yourself enjoying every thrust that penetrated deep inside the clenched hole of yours, prevailing a pure state of ecstacy.

"Speak of yourself filthy demon" you managed to speak between low grunts by resuming the lweds noises from escaping your soft trembling lips. A series of swift slaps landed onto your bare tits molding the flesh roughly in the process accompanied with pinches in the hypersensitive bud erected high due to its intensity. Your knees shuddering with each blow as kokushibo slaps harder simultaneously in your hip and breast without mercy.

How did you two end up like, this night was supposed to predict the future of humanity, either one of your demise, yet there you were being fucked by your sworn enemy. Hate was an understatement to define the feelings you store for him, lothe was the correct word. You loathed him for long as you can remember starting from the way he overpowers you to the way you whimper helplessly beneath his touch. All the insults he throws at you with his gaze locked directly over your frail quivering frame, caressing your forbidden places, fluids overflow shamelessly from your heated cunt.

Hovering on top of your small delicate body, the tall demon bends you aggressively against the tree stem. Fearing what might happen next, you tearfully pleaded but was it too late for he gropes your hips with such force rubbing his cock in between them.

"Weak" is all that come out from the silence, that one thing you never wanted to hear especially from him, it was unacceptable how he honorably stood as if he was mocking at your pathetic state while you lower you head down due to mind numbing pleasure, unable to put up with this degradation you decided to work on your impulses, applying all your remaining force you lifted your head only to be pressed down allowing him to hold a fistful of your hair roughly. 

"You think you can defeat an upper rank?" he yanked your hair roughly causing you to flinch with pain, and before you knew his member slide inside your drenched opening, you clinged onto his toned chest scratching his shoulders. He began pounding you with inhuman speed, his other hand spreading your leg wide as he mercilessly pumped his shaft upto your cervix creating concussions all over your body, belly bulging out due to his length. The forest filled with lwed moans, pants and grunts accompanied with sloppy noises of bare skin clapping against one another as the two of you continue to bang.

"Look at me" kokushibo ordered with his low voice, as an act of rebellion you refuse to listen to him gritting your teeth in protest. Suddenly he grabbed your face roughly to stare at you with his menacing eyes, your faces inches apart ready to mingle with burning passion but now would he let your lips connect? Demons are not capable of experiencing emotions anymore for they have abandoned their humanity long ago and before you stood one of the most ruthless, cruel demon of all time dominating your fragile little body like a play thing. Saliva drooling off your mouth while your tounge sticking out as he increases his pace gradually, upon witnessing the pathetic sight of yours, he chockes you earning moans of his name from your lips. There was nothing more you wanted than his cock. He shoots it warming up your walls while your juices coating his member reaching your respective orgasm, he releases you from his grip making you fall onto the ground, his hot seeds oozing out off your pussy. Just as you thought your miseries have ended and your life as well he pulled you up the ground earning a loud shriek in response, his usual calm face curving slightly into a sinister expression.

"I know exactly how to break you, (y/n)"

Douma~

Tags : mastrabation, degrading, oral sex, cock worship.

You have always loved the eccentric cult leader from afar which begun from exchanging a glance, you were just an insignificant maid like some other women in his prismatic pair of eyes but devoting your life and soul for his upmost affection became your priority. Everybody desires that whole heartedly you never consider yourself as an exception but you dared intoxicating your thoughts spending tedious nights imagining yourself indulged in sinful pleasure.

Just like any normal day, you were assigned to do chores around the cult including tending your master's room. His scent lingered as you prepared the cushions he would he sitting later "douma s-sama" your lips parted to chante his name, fingers automatically rubbing over the fabric of your heated spot forming inbetween shaking thighs, trembling, as all kind of dirty thoughts engulf your mind Sitting onto the bed you spread them, so blissfully unaware that the one watches intently.

"Look who we have here, (y/n)~ touching herself while calling her master's name" you jolted upwards in utter shock soon turning into shame.

"Don't mind me, continue what you were doing dove" the man beamed with excitement as his lustful gaze roamed upside down.

"I-" you hesitantly replied.

"I won't ask you twice, if you don't want me to force you, do what I say you useless slut" his tone changed in a matter of second the carefree smile he puts up usually is replaced to a completely unemotional one scaring you for you followed his orders fearfully by rubbing your clit infront of him avoiding eye contact. He locked his eyes directly on that dripping entrance. Your wildest fantasies have come to reality.

"Come here" which you immediately obliged to, he motioned to the tent forming in his pants. "Suck" you touched the length with your hand carefully unzipping the fabric, his scent filled your nostrils captivating you to take that inside your warm mouth and you did, swirling your tongue around it kissing and sucking it gradually making the demon groan in satisfaction. You bobbed your head slowly adjusting to his big size and start sucking it upside down when suddenly you were bend down with his nose poking at your wet core, hot breath tickling onto your pussy.

"I thought it would be rude of me to enjoy on my own" he explained his expression just the same as usual as if nothing like that happened before. He stretch his tongue out to have a good taste of your wet little slit. "Oh, did I allow you to stop now, dove?" Then he began assaulting that area vigorously with his long wide tongue making it hard for you to clinge onto his cock. You scream with pure ecstasy while he continue licking and teasing your vulva occasionally sucking on it, each time harder than before. You manage to suck his cock trying to match with his inhuman speed, then he suddenly pull out a string of saliva mixed with your fluids connecting his tongue.

"You really like it no? You have to beg for it if you do" a devilish smirk formed on his features. "I do" you replied trying to clasp the area he assaulted minutes before. "No, be specific, say you are horny little slut who wants to be touched" douma explained his smile never fading away. "Please.." tears forming your eyes, who knew he'd be so sadistic but you can't deny you loved every inch of it however he pocked onto your sensitive erected clit with his sharp nails just enough to not scratch it. "You won't? Too bad" he rubbed it slightly driving you crazy.

"I- want I-it"

"Mm? You want what dove?"

"I want you to touch me master for I am a horny little slut who needs your attention.. please master" you mwealed unable to take his teasing anymore, he bit your clit harshly making you squirm in pain, your walls tightened releasing all the pent up frustration you have stored over his face, you collapsed your eyes rolled back, tongue sticking out.

"That's it?" Douma pouted.

"But don't worry you have to yet make me cum, this day's gonna be so long (y/n)"

[taco-bell-mitchy]

I Don’t Like You

Rindou x F!Reader

-Someone likes you, but they’d jump out a window before they admit it. Literally.

Warnings: cussing, annoying Ran, minor violence (?)

School confessions were always so awkward. Especially when greeted with rejection. So Rindou Haitani was writing his, he cringed. He simply couldn’t keep these feelings in any longer. He also didn’t know how to express his feelings very well. So what was he supposed to do? Just tell you he likes you? It’s not like you would even believe it. Which he doesn’t blame you for. As Rin seems to have a resting bitch face.

Anything he tells you, you either take it the wrong way because of his face, or he says it wrong because of his well…face. His tone can be quite monotone as well which doesn’t help. So when you change you hair style one day and he stares at you, you automatically never do it again as you think he’s disgusted at it. Or when he ask, “Is that a new shirt?” With a plain face and bored eyes you assume he also doesn’t think it’s very cute. So even if he did try to confess in person, you’d probably think he’s playing a sick joke.

Crumpling up another letter he became infuriated. He just can’t seem to get his feelings right. His cheeks are burning red as he’s writing all of them. Ran see his brothers irritability but leaves him alone for a while, until he can’t get over the annoyed yelling.

“Okay what’s wrong?” Ran asked leaning on the door frame, “Nothing.” Rindou’s irritability was visible even more in his voice. Ran looked around the room at crumpled papers and smirked while picking one up.

“Dear y/n, I know I’m not the best at expressing myself but I’m truly in love with you-”

“STOP IN RAN!!!” Rindou screamed at brother like a toddler asking for a cookie. Rindou’s face had furrowed brows but his scarlet cheeks told another story. “My little brother is writing a love letter~” Rindou looked away, “Shut up, I’m trying my best.” Ran sighed with a smile while crouching down next to his brother. “Your big brother is to the rescue. We’ll write the best love letter ever.” Rindou shook him away, “I don’t need your help Ran. Besides I’m not gonna even wrote it anymore I’m done.” Ran shrugged while walking out his room, “Well, a bit of advice still, just write what you want her to know, how you actually feel. Goodnight~”

The next morning Rindou shoved his school supplies and folders into his bag once more and ran to school. He was sleep deprived from all the writing he had done. Only in the end deciding not to even give it to her. He got to school eventually and eased into the day.

Today I got to school early. Unlike most days. I walked into the classroom sitting in my assigned seat. Looking beside me towards the window where Rindou Haitani usually sat earlier than me. I was a bit relieved he wasn’t here today. Though, yes he was easy on eyes, every single day and second he seemed to want to murder me.

He would ask if my clothing was new with such a bored face as if he were judging me for my choice. Or I would change my hair style for a hair and I’d watch him stare into my heart and soul the whole day. Sometimes when I’m laughing with friends, later in the day they’d tell he was glaring daggers at them too. It always seemed like no matter what I did it didn’t impress him. It didn’t bother me at first but now I just wonder why he hates me.

That’s when he walked in. Messy hair and wide eyes. It’s the most expression I’ve ever seen him have. I looked down to hide my face. I admit, my feelings towards him were…complicated. The reason I wondered he hated me was because I felt anything but hate towards him. When he wasn’t looking at me, he seemed so peaceful. On my way home I’d see him laughing with his brother and being a normal guy. Though he was a delinquent he still was charming. Yet he hates me.

I was pulled out of my thinking at a second loud voice. Ran Haitani. Huh? He wasn’t in this class. The first Haitani brother, well I see him as second, was never here. So it’s odd for him to be loudly yelling to his younger brother. “Aye Rindou!! I think you accidentally packed something of mine. Can I check?” Rindou looked over to him and sighed, “Whatever.” Ran’s smile seemed to lighten.

He rummaged through Rin’s backpack. Finally pulling out a sheet of paper. It seemed to be folded and messy. Ran yelled a quiet ‘yah’ and unfolded it. He looked over at me and since I was already staring at him we made eye contact. “Y/n! This is for you!” Rindou looked up at what he was holding and as I went to reach it Rindou grabbed it.

“Stop it! Don’t fucking touch things that aren’t yours.” I pulled my hand back at his harsh tone. Ran frowned, “Stop being a pussy Rin, just give it up-” Rin held the paper tighter. “It’s none of your business Ran leave me alone. And you,” he pointed towards me, “Dont listen to him he’s an annoying fuck who doesn’t know anything.” I felt awkward especially with the disgust in his eyes. At least it always felt like disgust when he stared at me. Ran grabbed the paper again but Rin struggled leaving Ran pushing Rindou against the open window.

Ran stared Rindou hard in the eyes, “I won’t let go of this.”

“I know”

“I wish push you out this window if you really want it to not be seen.”

Rindou felt his heart race is frustration, “Do it. I won’t change my mind.” And not to Rindou’s surprise. He actually did. The few students rushed to window, we were only on the second story, but it was still sure to hurt. I, too, rushed to the window. And I saw Rindou’s face as he stared up at us while laying in the bushes. I laughed as he mouthed a ‘fuck you’ to his brother. Who simply laughed and flipped him off.

I hurried down to him, even if he rejected me now, or looked at me with disgusted eyes, or if cussed me out. I’d go to him this time with no regrets. So as I rushed down to my luck I still see him there. Now he’s sitting upright brushing leaves off him with a pained expression. I walk over to him crouching down. He looked up at me with the same cold eyes. I smiled at him offering a hand.

“Hey. You okay?” He stood up gripping my hand softly, “Yeah sorry about earlier, Ran can be a lot.” I nodded it became silent between us I stared down. We still held hands. He was about to let go but I pulled harder, “Wait! I have to tell you something.” His eyes peeked in interest. “Yes?” I let go of his hand and held my own. Breathing in I finally said, “I know you aren’t quite fond of me but I hope you at least get to know me better because I like you. I think if you get to know me better it’ll be easier to like me right? I mean I understand if you like someone else or even if you’re dating someone then sorry! But I can’t keep this in forever-” I stopped talking at his bubbly laughter

“You sure do talk a lot, yeah?” I laughed a little too at that. I stopped when I felt him reach to intertwine our fingers. “Yeah, I guess you’re okay or whatever.” I looked up at him and smiled, “Thats cool or whatever.” I say mocking him. He smiled wider and looked towards the school door. “I guess we should be getting to class right now, come on let’s go.” I followed with our hands still intertwined. The paper in his other hand.

“What is that by the way?” Rindou’s face went red, “haha nothing…” I nodded and put aside my curiosity. He looked down at me and we made eye contact, “Let’s go when thing straight though, I definitely don’t like you.” I rolled my eyes, “Yeah okay Rindou, you definitely don’t like me.”

But you both knew. He definitely did like you.

Bonus:

“Y/n did he give you the letter!” Ran yelled excitingly towards me. I stared at him in confusion. “What?”

“I saw you two walking while holding hands so he gave the letter right?” I shook my head, “No, I was the one that confessed. I didn’t even know he had a letter.” Ran smirked with mischief. “I thought that might happen so i saved an old copy.” He gave me a wink and handed me the letter.

I read the letter which read,

“Dear Y/n,

I’ve liked you for a while now. No, loved you. I hope that doesn’t sound to bold but it’s the truth. I wish you could see the way I stare at you with so much love, but apparently most people don’t see it as love but more of disgust or ill intent. Still, it is love. I’ve always been afraid to admit it to you because I don’t want you to reject me. Now I hope you can really tell my true feelings. I want to hold your hands and kiss your face and have you in many vulnerable ways. Is this to straightforward? Ah I don’t know, it’s hard to write this and as I am I’m very confused. I hope one day you’ll just be able to see how much I love you. With my touch and stares. So please accept my confession.

Sincerely,

Rindou Haitani”

I smiled with my eyes a bit watery at how cheesy it was. “Wow Ran. We gotta make fun of him for this forever yeah?” Ran laughed loud. “oh I definitely like you!”

I think we’ll all get along fine. Oh and I was definitely gonna tease Rin.

[wonderwomanfantasy]

Stress relief

mind your bisnuess I’m working through some shit 

Atsumu x reader

warnings: smut, just- so much smut, Oral, car sex, fingering, Daddy kink, degradation, marking, ass play, dirty talk,Brat taming, slut shaming AND virgin shaming (we got it all folks), hair pulling, cum play, creampie, breading kink, drinking/ Drunk sex, angst annnnnd swearing. 

word count: 4,800 (about) (yes really get off my back)

summary: Atsumu is a dick, but he’s got a good dick at least you have no idea how mad I am I’ve already used the title Enemy with Benifits. 

“Are- Are you fucking kidding me?” you asked, Atsumu just shrugged. 

“No, I’m not fucking kidding you what’s your deal?” he said casually. You took a deep breath. You had been trying to work on your anger issues, Not blowing up on people over nothing. But this really felt like something worth blowing up over. 

“Myia, be honest with me, do you think I’m stupid?” you asked. He smirked.

“I think you’re a lot of things babe-” you stood up getting in his face jabbing your finger in his chest cutting off his no doubt horrendous flirting. 

“You fucking ripped off you’re entire part of the project! How the fuck did you think no one would notice?” you shouted. You had known this was going to be a train wreck the moment Atsumu was assigned as your partner. He was such a fucking moron, he’d only gotten into this College because of his sports scholarship. You would have been better working on your own.

“I cited the article I copied, what's the deal?” he snapped, the volume of your voice irking him. 

“That’s not how this fucking works you can’t just hit copy-paste and call it a day the point is you come up with your own ideas, although in your defense I’m not sure you’re brain could manage something like that,” you shouted. He sneared. 

“I’ll rewrite it just stop being a bitch alright?” he scoffed, turning to leave your dorm room. You wanted to hit him, how dare he call you a bitch when you were just looking out for his dumb ass. Even high schoolers knew you’d be expelled for plagiarising. Once Atsumu left you slumped back in your seat looking at the presentation open on your laptop. You were already so busy but somehow you’d have to find enough time to do half of the project unless you wanted to fail that was.

“Hey, you’re working with (y/n) on your project right?” Osamu asked, setting his volleyball up in the air over and over again. 

“Yeah, they totally blew up on me today so now I gotta redo the whole thing,” Atsumu sighed 

“They’re hot though,” his brother said. Atsumu smiled to himself, remembering your angry face as you chewed him out.

“Really hot,” he agreed. 

“Are you gonna fuck them?” 

“Of course, they might an asshole but they want me,”

“Hey (y/n),” you looked up at the sound of your name only to groan seeing Atsumu run towards you. He had clearly just come from practice, he was still in his jersey. Fucking jocks. 

He probably thought he looked hot, with a light sheen of sweat that made his skin glow and tousled hair. He did look hot, it made you want to kick his shins. 

“If you aren’t going to tell me that you finished your half of the presentation I don’t want to hear it,” you snapped.

“Well then you aren’t going to be happy then but there’s a game this weekend, you should come, cheer for me,” he said winking. You rolled your eyes. 

“I was already planning on going, but you’re nuts if you think I’m gonna cheer for you,” you snapped, still a little heated about your last encounter with him. 

“And why not?” he asked, smirking, it pissed you off. You just knew he thought he looked so cute smiling at you like that. 

“I cheer for winners,”

You and Atsumu were at each other’s throats for the rest of the year. Atsumu Gave up on his plan to sleep with you and you gave up on your anger management, at least around him. If other people were in this situation they might stay away from their sworn enemy, but not you two. 

You made it to every volleyball game just to tell Osamu how great he did and how handsome he was looking today. Atsumu sat next to you in every class you shared talking your ear off making sure that you didn’t learn a damn thing. 

It was annoying as hell, you wanted to strangle him, but it was nice in a kind of way. If you were stressed or pissed off you could drag Atsumu as a little fun. And even if nothing else in your life was going right. You could always count on this blonde dick to be the worst to you. 

“Damn we had the exterminator here last week but there’s a roach right here,” Atsumu sneered over the thumping music at the party. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. 

“You need to look up more insults you’ve already used that one,” you barked back, normally seeing Atsumu would be enough to dampen your mood but the booze must have been doing its job because you still felt all light and buzzed. 

“Beer?” he asked, holding up a bottle for you, ever the gracious host. 

“I’m good,” you said holding up the can of seltzer you’d been drinking out of it was fruity and only had a little bite to it, you were already on your third one. 

“Right I forgot that a baby like you couldn’t handle the taste of beer,” he scoffed, he was closer now, towering over you and pressing one of his forearms to the wall by your head as he leaned over you, shielding you from the rest of the party. You never realized before how big he was. Tall and wide. Muscular too, it was no wonder half the people at the Volleyball games creamed themselves just seeing him. 

“You’re such a dick, why do you always have to be so mean?” you asked before even realizing the words that you’d spoken.

“You aren’t exactly nice either princess, besides that’s how this works, that’s our dynamic,” he said. He must be pretty drunk too. Nothing he was saying was making any sense. 

“Still, how do you expect anyone to put up with you when you’re such a douche bag all the time?” you said the anger you associated with Atsumu finally setting in. 

“If it works it works, I mean you’re obsessed with me,” he said. You gagged and shoved his chest, he didn’t move, god how strong was he?

“Fuck off I hate you, why would I be obsessed with you? God you think that the world fucking revolves around you. How could any-”

His lips met yours effectively shutting you up. His hand came up cupping the back of your head and you couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, pressing your body against his and dropping your drink so your hands would be free to rake through his hair. You weren’t nice about the kiss either, your teeth gnashed against his when he tried to push his tongue into your mouth. You bit his lower lip and tugged at his hair, moaning against his mouth when he did the same to you. 

He broke away breathlessly, still holding you close to his body while you caught your breath. He was so pretty his cheeks flushed his lips wet and glossy. God, you wanted to kiss him again, even if he tasted like beer and he had been right in his assessment that you weren’t a big fan of the taste. 

“Good to know theirs one way to shut you the fuck up,” he teased. You groaned in frustration pulling him back down into another kiss. This one was just as passionate and fierce as the first. He pushed you against the wall and pulled up one of your legs and forced it around his waist so he could grind against you. You shuddered feeling him rut the seam of your jeans against your clit. 

“Woulda fucked you a lot sooner if i'd known you made such pretty noises when you were touched,” he muttered reaching up and palming your breast through your shirt. Atsumu started kissing, or maybe biting was a better word. The top part of your neck even pays some attention to your jaw and earlobe while he humped and groped you. 

“I knew you were a pervert but I never knew you were filthy enough to fuck me out in the open like this,” you gasped, tugging at his hair. You could feel your panties get sticky with your arousal and you wanted him to take you out of here and fuck you already. 

“You’re gonna let me fuck you?” he asked, pulling back so he could look at you and smirk. You smiled back, the fight wasn’t out of you yet. 

“Why would I do that? I’d rather sleep with someone who could make me cum,” you spat and his grin quickly fell, there was a competitive fire in his eyes that you normally only saw when he was playing.

“Oh Daddy’s gonna make you cum you fucking brat, I’ll make you squirt, you’re gonna cry with how good my dick feels,” he growled in a low voice you’d never heard before and suddenly you were regretting your comment. 

“Daddy?” you snorted

Atsumu detangled himself from you and grabbed you by the wrist tugging you out of the frat house and to his car. You shook your head and broke free of his iron-clad grasp. 

“I know you’re stupid but this is a new low, both of us are way too drunk to drive,” you shouted. Atsumu just laughed at you, opening the back door to his car. 

“We aren’t driving dumbass now get in,” he said. You bit your lip and slid into the back seat shortly followed by Atsumu who locked the door behind him. 

The seat wasn’t large but it was big enough to move around in. He pressed you onto the leather upholstery, your legs bent and splayed out at an awkward angle to fit him between them. He went back to kissing you sloppily while his hands went to work taking off your shirt and bra. 

Your nipples hardened once the cold night air touched you. “Wanted to suck on your pretty tits for the longest time,” he groaned quickly lowering his head, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth while he fingered the other twisting and pinching it. You yelped when his teeth grazed over the bud. His eyes flicked up to yours and he let go of the spit-soaked nipple blowing on it lightly making you shiver. 

“How long has it been since you’ve been fucked huh? So many guys want to fuck this sweet little pussy but you’re too stuck up to let that happen.” he snears sucking the other nipple into his mouth. 

“Bet you’re still a fucking virgin,” he said speaking around your mouth. 

“ I a-am not,” you whined, you’d lost your virginity in high school, but you really hadn’t gotten fucked since then. 

“Oh listen to you whine you totally are,” he scoffed 

“No I’m Not!” you protested he let go of your nipple and kissed you again threading his fingers through your hair and pressing your face to his. 

“Shut up you fucking virgin,” he said sweetly, before pulling off his shirt, and before you could admire his chiseled chest he distracted you by biting your neck again. You pressed your hand to the center console to keep from slipping off with one hand and clinging to his shoulders with the other. 

Atsumu deftly unbuttoned your jeans and shoved his hands in your pants touching your through your soaked underwear. You felt him smirk against your neck but he didn’t make any remark about it. Good thing for him too because you could feel his hard prick pressing up against your thigh and you were ready to drag him for it if he commented on your own arousal. 

God, you could feel his cock. It was big, heavy, and hard, pressed against your leg. You wanted to see it, touch it, feel it inside of you. He’d pushed your panties to the side now so he could push his large fingers inside brushing against your velvet walls. 

“A-Atsumu,” you said, pitching your leg up to rub against his dick.  “I want to suck your cock,” you whimpered. You felt him twitch. 

“Here I thought you were a virgin but you’re just a slutty whore aren't cha?” he growled against your neck picking your hips up and yanking your pants down your legs leaving them pooled around your ankles leaving you to kick your jeans off completely. You felt a little stupid naked except for your shoes but Atsumu quickly distracted you by folding you in half pressing your knees to your chest and leaving your pussy completely exposed. 

“I’ll fuck your throat later, right now I gotta make you cum remember?” he said playing his hands over your thighs keeping g you folded before lowering his head and diving into your folds like a man starved. 

Just like he kissed you, he was mean about it, sucking so harshly that you cried out and spanking your cunt just to make you jump. The only time he pulled back was to spit on your asshole lubing it up enough to slip a finger inside. 

“Sumu please,” you cried out as he filled you with his tongue pressing against your G-spot over and over again while he pinched your clit. You weren’t even sure what you were begging for. He just hummed in acknowledgment, whatever you were begging for he wasn’t going to have it. 

“Daddy,” you pleaded, finally caving. Atsumu smiled to himself. He wasn’t nice but he did reward good behavior. 

He switched it up sucking your clit into your mouth and plunging the fingers of his clean hand, the one that hadn’t just been your ass, inside of you curling up and pressing against your g-pot over and over again until you came screaming so loud that you were sure people back at the house could hear you. 

“See didn’t that feel good slut?” he cooed condescendingly. There was a pool of cum beneath you soaking into the leather seats. Good thing this was Osamus’s car. Now all he had to do was make you cry. 

“I-I’m not a slut,” you whined. 

“Oh? Which is it? Are you not a virgin or are you not a slut?” he asked, squeezing your cheeks. You didn’t know how to respond. 

“Well I think you’re a slut, Daddy’s little slut,” he snapped. 

There was a dark stain of precum staining his jeans where the head of his cock was leaking he quickly shoved down his pants and boxers before sitting down and pulling you into his lap. You hovered above him as he pumped his cock in his hand running the head of his cock through your soaked folds and bumping your clit. 

“You’re gonna be a good whore and ride Daddy’s cock right?” he asked, lining the head of his dick up with your entrance. You bit your lip and nodded, shakily lowering yourself down on him. Atsumu hissed feeling your tight heat wrap around him. 

You gripped his shoulders feeling how well he filled you up, the tip pressing against your cervix. You took a minute to adjust before lifting yourself up on your knees and started to fuck yourself onto him. 

Atsumu brought you close and kissed you again, one of his hands slipping between your bodies to stroke your clit while you bounced up and down on his cock.  You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as he touched you. He filled you up so well, you had teased him about not being able to get you off but even you couldn’t deny how good it felt to have him so deep inside of you. 

“You feel that baby? You feel Daddy pressing up against your Cervix, I’m going to blow my fat load right into your slutty little womb,” he snarled his hips snapping up to meet yours. You whined, throwing your head back in pleasure, almost hitting your head on the headrest. 

“Gonna knock you up, gonna stuff this slutty pussy with cum,” he growled, he was talking more to himself but you couldn’t help but shudder at his words. You were on birth control but you desperately wanted him to fill you up. 

“Are you gonna cum princess?” He asked, “I can feel your cunt squeezing my cock like that, you’re gonna cum.” He was right, you could feel a second orgasm welling up in your core as his cock pulsed inside of you. 

“Atsumu-Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you moaned kissing him sloppily, your hips faltered when you came but Atsumu’s hands went to your hips moving your body for you as he chased his own high, true to his word he came deep inside of you filling you up and pressing his cock against your cervix. 

You collapsed against his chest gasping for breath. He ran his hand soothingly over your back. 

“You look tired, you wanna crash somewhere babe?” he asked. 

“We’re still too drunk to drive,” you murmured. 

“I have a buddy in the frat house, I’m sure he’ll let me steal his bed for the night, especially for a cutie like you,” he said. You pulled back to look at him.

“You had a bed here this whole time and you still made me fuck you in the car?” 

When you woke up your whole body hurt. Your head ached your eyes stung and your body was littered with bruises. You didn’t even want to check in with the lower half of your body. You groaned sitting up in bed clutching your head. Then you felt the bed beside you shift, you froze remembering how you’d ended last night. 

Atsumu cracked one eye open and his face split into a huge grin. “I had the best dream last night-” he teased you and moved to hit him but he caught your wrist and flipped you on your back pinning you to the bed. 

He hovered above you his breath hitting your face in soft puffs. You leaned up and kissed him, suddenly you were a mess of limbs and hands trying to tear each other’s clothes off while you kissed. You hissed as his fingers grazed the bite marks on your neck. 

“Go easy on me I’m still sore,” you complained. Atsumu smirked.

“Did I wreck you that badly baby?” he asked, teasingly grinding his morning wood on your leg. You shuddered. 

“Shut up and fuck me asshole,” you demand. He tugged off your underwear and hooked your legs over his shoulders. 

“As you wish your majesty,” he scoffed and slowly pushed two of his fingers into you

Your cunt ached and it hurt to feel his fingers prod you open, but soon the pain dissolved into pleasure as he continued to finger you. 

“Such a pretty wet little cunt, so wet and sticky for me,” he purred, “you like this slut? You like getting fingered first thing in the morning?” he asked. 

“Do you like humping my ass like a fucking dog first thing in the morning?” you spat back. He grunted and roughly jerked his finger up hitting your G-spot making you cry out your back arching off the bed. 

“That’s what I thought,” he scoffed before completely pulling his fingers out and sticking them into his mouth sucking on your juices. 

“I’m not gonna fuck you if you keep being mean,” he said shoving down his own clothes 

“Shut up, I bet I’m the only one you know who lets you get your dick wet,” you growled. He snapped into you in one swift motion. You cried out your nails digging into his shoulders. It hurt but the pain sent a rush of endorphins making you moan. 

“Really you think that I could fuck you like this without any practice dollface? Don’t forget you’re the virgin here,” he teased drawing his hips back before ramming back into you. This pace was much harsher than what you’d set last night. You were helpless, and entirely at his mercy, he had you folded in half, and you could only moan and scratch at his back. 

“Imna fill this cunt with cum, nothing better than emptying my balls in your warm cunt first thing in the morning,” he muttered to himself as he continued to fuck you. 

“Already?” you teased.

“Fuck off or I’ll fuck you until you pass out,” he threatened. 

“Hurry up and make me cum, I’ve got shit to do today,” you snapped. 

“God do you ever stop being a bitch?” he asked, pulling out of you and flipping you over, jerking your hips up and sliding back into you. you moaned feeling his cock hit new sweet spots. You arched your back pressing your hips to his and burying your face into the pillows. 

The bed creaked with the force of his thrusts, the headboard hitting the wall with a loud bang. Atsumu brought his hand down on your ass making you jump, it stung and you were reminded of his killer serves that you had seen so many times. 

“There, no more bitchy comebacks? Have you gone braindead on my cock?” he mocked spanking you again. 

“Daddy!” you pleaded. Your thighs trembling as wetness dripped down your legs. 

“Awe theirs my sweet little slut, ready to be good now?” 

“Y-yes,” you whined desperate to cum.  Atsumu grunted and finally went easy on you, rubbing your clit and easing into you in slow, deep thrusts until he felt your pussy cream around him. 

“There you go baby,” he said pulling out of you, his hard cock dripping in your juices. “You still want to suck on my cock?” he asked. You bit your lower lip, embarrassed at the memory. You shifted on the bed settling in between his legs taking the head of his cock into your mouth and wrapping your hands around the rest of his dick. 

You licked softly at the slit in the head picking up the bitter precum with your tongue.  You slowly took more of his cock in your mouth hollowing your cheeks out around him. His dick was just too big for you to fit completely into your mouth so you moved your hands up and down his shaft while you took as much of him as you could, swirling your tongue around the head. 

“You’re doing so well baby,” he moaned, smoothing your hair back from your face. “I didn’t think a virgin like you’d be so good,” he teased. You glared up at him as you continued to suck his dick but you resolved to bite him if he made a comment like that again. 

“I think I like you better like this you’re so pretty when you shut the- OW watch the teeth,” 

You could taste it as the precum dribbled out of his cock smearing over your tongue, you were getting used to the bitter taste and it wasn’t that bad. You pushed your head down pressing his cock to the back of your throat suppressing your gag reflex. 

“Fuck, baby just like that i’m going to cum down your thoat,” he groaned his hips stuttering upwards pushing his dick down your throat deaper making you choke. Atsumu didn’t care,he was moaning loudly as his hips spasmed up into your mouth. 

You choked when his semen flooded your mouth. “Fuuck,” he sighed, pulling out of your mouth. You sluptered trying to catch the mess that bubbled out of your mouth. 

“Ah, swallow what you can baby,” Atsumu said, whipping your chin with his thumb. You did as he asked, choking down what you could. He pushed you back on the bed kissing your neck, his lips running over your bruises, 

“I like you like this, we should fuck more often he teased,” you shoved his chest, but weakly, it was clearly just for show. You didn’t want to admit it but you agreed with him. 

You kept seeing Atsumu after that. He was a little nicer with you normally. Or at least, he saved his mean side for the bedroom and was a little sweeter to you. If you were a little more naive you might have even started to fall for him a little bit. 

That was the Chliche right? You start out hating someone but then after a few nights of passion you were in love?  Bullshit, it was all Bullshit. 

you knew Atsumu hadn’t changed, and he wasn’t exactly saving himself for you. You couldn’t count how many times you’d walked in on him making out with some random chick, you’d even walked in on him while he’d been balls deep in some other girl. 

That being said, you hadn’t changed either. you still had a temper like no other and were quick to snap, especially at Atsumu. You didn’t have many friends who put up with your bullshit so why would He even fall in love with you?

You shouldn’t be in love with him. He was an asshole, a heartless fuck boy. So why did you like him so much? why did it sting when you thought about how hopless your whole situation. 

It sucked, this whole thing was just awful. That being said, you still jumped at the chance to see him everytime he called, you really were hopless. 

“Where are we going?” you asked as Atsumu drove. You didn’t recognize this street and you knew you weren’t going to his place. 

“It’s a surprise,” he said. You scoffed and crossed your arms. He pulled into a parking lot and you were surprised to see you were at a park. 

“What are you going to fuck me on the slide?” you asked, following him out of the car and into the park. 

“I used to come here all the time when I was a kid, me and my brother would play here,” he said, ignoring you and walking to the swings, you followed. 

“And I still come here a lot, it’s a good place to think and it’s just a really special place for me,” he said sitting on the swing and gesturing for you to sit on his lap. 

You did, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. “I don’t like where this conversation is going,” you said furrowing your eyebrows. It was almost the middle of the night so it was dark but you could still see the dopey lovestruck look on his face. 

“Stumu, you’re not supposed to call me for stuff like this,” you said unwrapping your arms around his neck, you were going to get off his lap but he wrapped his arms around his waist keeping you there. 

The two of you had agreed only to call each other when you wanted sex, this mushy romantic shit was defently not sex. 

“You’re so pretty baby, let me be nice to you,” he said kissing you and you melted into him, just like every time he kissed you. 

“You’re never nice to me,” you protested. He reached under your shirt groping you. 

“Because you never let me,” he protested. 

“What’s with you?” you asked, grabbing his wrist and shoving him away from you. 

“I love you,” he said. You couldn’t deal with this right now, you got off his lap and started walking back to the car

“Take me home,” you demanded.  “I don’t want to talk about this,” you said. 

“(y/n)-” he said running in front of you stopping you. 

“Please, I know you hate this shit, but please can we talk,” he pleaded taking your hands in his, 

“You can’t just say shit like that Tsumu! We’re not supposed to love each other we’re supposed to fuck and get under eachother’s skin and fight that’s how this works!” you shouted.

Atsumu kissed your knuckles, seeming to ignore your yelling. 

“We didn’t used to fuck either, we used to just get under eachother’s skin,” he pointed out. He wrapped you in his arms. You pressed your face to his chest and you felt your cheeks get wet with tears. You hiccupped and sobbed,  trying to keep your emotions bottled up was hard.  

“I love you,” he said again.  You shoved him and whipped your face. 

“I don’t want to do this Atsumu, take me home,” you demanded. He deflated. 

“Okay baby, let's go home, I’ll be waiting, when you’re ready,” he said rubbing your shoulders and taking you back to his car. 

You drove in silence. You hated this. Yout hated him. Atsumu was a playboy, an idiot and an asshole who only cared about Volleyball. You just wanted to insult him and fuck him to blow off steam. You weren’t supposed to fall for him. You weren’t supposed to love his cocky smile and his stupid jokes. His stupid flirty remarks weren’t supposed to make you blush. 

“Baby?” he prompted you blinked and saw you were sitting in front of your dorm building. “Hey,” he purred, wiping the tears off your cheeks. You didn’t need him to tell you that he loved you, you could tell every time  he did something like this. You couldn’t help but lean into his touch. 

“I really wished we’d had sex tonight,” you whispered. He laughed. 

“fuck am I really that ireaistable doll?” he teased, pinching your cheek as he pulled away. 

“I do love you Atsumu, I just- I just don’t know what to do about it,” you admitted. Atsumu smiled lazily. 

you meant it too, you loved him so much. but it was impossible to get the image of the time you walked in on him sleeping with another girl out of your mind. Was that what it meant to be in a relationship with him? If so then you weren’t going to do it, you weren’t signing yourself up for that kind of heartbreak. Maybe you should just give up on him and block him. 

“Like I said. I’ll wait for you, and next time I promise we’ll have the best sex of your life-Not that’s a hard bar to clear you virigin,” he teased. You smiled and playfully hit him in the arm. You got out of his car and walked into your building as he drove away, and at least for tonight. That was enough. 

[smutsonian]

Hello love 😺 umm can u pls please please write dark!steve x reader, where he bully and verbally harrases the reader but somehow kind of love her but just treat her bad and degrade her but when someone else tryna make her fun of her then he shows who she belongs to kinda stuff (pls if u gonna write pls make it so it so dark🥺🥺)...... Feel free to ignore tho cause i'm sorry this seems so long 😬😬🧡

2/2 Hey it's me again 👋👋😬who just send u a request of a long one shot of dark steve rogers x reader where he bullys her but i just forget to tell u that can u pls make that a Highschool AU pls , i really forget to tell u 😬😬

bully

steve rogers x reader

summary: Steve bullies you after you rejected him and he soon regrets it.

warnings: dark, non-con, violence, bullying, blood, self hatred, insecurities, psychological trauma, they are of age, please don’t read if you’re not comfortable with any of these. Not proofread.

word count: 1.7k

a/n: just wanted to post something so this may or may not suck

masterlist

Steve wasn’t always a bully.

It’ll probably be because you hurt his ego.

Maybe he asked you out one time but you were new in school and wary of people so you politely declined his offer.

For Steve, he saw that as you humiliating him in front of the school. The new girl just rejected the Steve Rogers. 

Steve would be like ‘who do you think you are?’ and the cheeky flirty guy he was before becomes someone else.

He started spitting insults here and there, never missing a day to make you feel weird about yourself. 

The soft and beautiful blue eyes from before turned dark and hostile towards you.

Sweet words turned harsh.

Flaws that you didn’t see before started surfacing.

Suddenly your hair is too messy and all over the place. Your skin is too dead and it makes you look creepy. Your eyes are too dull and sad that you don’t seem friendly anymore. Your nose is weird, and so on. The list never ended and you started to change from the person you are before.

Steve made sure to make you feel the way you made him feel.

You suddenly became closed off and did everything to be unnoticed. It’s better to be a nobody than be the center of everyone’s torment.

Steve is a popular guy and it didn’t take long for everyone to follow his lead.

You’re just trying to finish your last year and finally leave the hell you created for yourself but Steve swore to make your life a living hell.

“If it isn’t my favorite dead girl!” Steve’s voice booms through the hallway, the chatters immediately stopped to witness the popular guy, and now, the loser of the whole school interact.

“Got somewhere else to be?” His voice was sweet as well as his eyes but you know, everyone knows that his intentions are far from being sweet.

“What? Your tongue isn’t working anymore? Bet it rot with your dead body and now everything is decaying with you, is that it?” He raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for his friends to back him up which they did. Steve smirked as the hallway started being filled with thunderous laughter and they’re all directed at you.

You did nothing but bite your lip in hopes of stopping yourself from crying in front of everyone. You can’t afford another round of teasing.

You fake a laugh before turning away from him and started heading to your last class.

Steve hated the way your eyes looked at his with nothing but sadness.

Your sadness wasn’t even directed at him but at yourself.

He just wanted to make you feel the way you made him feel so you can understand that the both of you belong to each other.

You’re fucking perfect and Steve is far from that. He might be the most popular guy in school but you were way out of his league so he had to bring you down just a little bit.

But it got out of hand.

He had no idea how to stop what he started but then something happened.

He was just on his way out of detention, the hallways are now empty, everyone has already gone home and Steve was used to that. What he wasn’t used to is the sound of whimpering. More importantly, it’s the sound of you whimpering.

He wasted no time and ran towards the direction of your voice and as he turned the corner, his blood turned red hot in seconds. He’s seeing nothing but red at the sight in front of him.

Mrs. Roberts asked you to come to her office before going home to discuss something and you didn’t know whether to cry because of sadness or cry because someone actually cares for you.

Mrs. Roberts shared her worries with you because your once impressive grades started pummeling down to the point where it can cause problems with your chances of graduating.

Mrs. Roberts gave you special assignments to do so you can pass her subject and you thanked her for that. You even hugged her so tightly and dwelled on the affection for too long which worried her.

“Is there something wrong, dear?” She asked, eyes glossing over yours with worry.

You decided against telling her and just shook your head at her. “Do you think I’m failing my other subjects? What if I don’t graduate in time?”

Mrs. Roberts was quick to calm you down, telling you how the meeting with the teachers went and even joked about you purposely failing only her subject which you laughed at.

You left her office with a smile, chuckling at the memories of her jokes when you suddenly felt an impact on your left side and then your right side when you hit the lockers with a loud bang, making you whimper in pain.

“The fuck are you laughing at, dead girl?” An unfamiliar voice says above you.

You look up to see a boy a year younger than you but before you could reply, his foot started meeting your abdomen, your sides, or whatever part of you that he could kick. At some point, he was able to kick your face which made your ears ring in pain so you decided to shield your head with your arms to block his kicks.

“I don’t know why Steve never did this before but I am doing it for him. He’ll be so proud of me! I can take over his place after he graduates.”

You didn’t even realize that you weren’t receiving his kicks anymore but the sound of kicks can still be heard.

You peak out of your arms to see the young boy’s body across from you on the floor, receiving hits from a large man above him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, punk?!” Steve’s voice growls in anger and you didn’t know if you were thankful that you weren’t on the receiving end of his growl but it still terrified you.

“M-making you proud! I’m doing the thing you can’t seem to do!” The younger boy spits out red liquid before scrambling away after Steve pulls him up by his collar.

“If I fucking see you touch her again, you’ll never be able to see a day again, you understand?” Steve pushes the boy away before looking back at you, all the anger on his face turns into something softer.

He scrambles towards you, kneeling before you and helping you so gently until your leaning on the lockers, heaving at the pain that the boy caused you.

Steve continued to stare at you, eyes observing you before his hands gently prodded your face.

“You’re bleeding…” He murmurs before pulling out a cloth and dabbing it softly on the wound, apologizing when you flinched at his touch which surprised you.

“W-what are you doing?” Your voice trembles and Steve only sighed in response, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Why did you have to reject me?” He asked, carefully putting a band-aid over the scar and kissing it so gently with his pink lips. You stared at him in shock and confusion.

“Wh-What the f-fuck?!” You try to push him off but he only gripped both of your wrists with one hand while the other caress your face.

“We would’ve been so happy together. You would’ve had a great experience but you always manage to put yourself in danger… Why didn’t you just let me in?” The hand on your face goes to the back of your neck and your struggles were no use when he easily pulled you into a kiss, his tongue easily forcing itself into your mouth and coating and mixing your saliva with his.

“I should’ve not given up but you… you hurt me, ya know?” He pulls away before admiring your face.

“I lied though. You’ve always been so beautiful. I just wanted you to give me a chance but then you started avoiding me more.” His jaw clenches before his grip on your wrists tighten.

His other hand goes under your shirt before fondling your breasts through your bra. He leans in towards your neck before sniffing and moaning as he continues to massage your breasts while his hips started to grind against yours in need.

He growls against your neck as his grind started to get violently fast.

“Ahh fuck!” His hips stopped before he’s shaking against your body.

Your eyes widened at him as you looked down at the front of his pants which now had a stain on the crotch area.

“D-did you just—”

“See what you do to me?” He laughs before kissing your lips once more, the hand on your breasts trailing down before he forces it down your pants and under your panties to feel your core with his big hands.

His fingers make a quick swipe up your slit making you shiver at the feeling of him on your sensitive area.

“And I see what I do to you…” He inserts one finger, groaning at the way your walls are tightening around just one finger.

Steve swore he could cum again at the thought of his cock entering your very tight pussy.

“We didn’t start strong but we have all the time in the world now…” He places a kiss wet on your lips, continuing his assault on your core while his thumb finds its way to your clit.

Steve enjoys the way your hips jolted at the feeling and he smiled.

“I will help you graduate with honors and then after that,” he pulls back from the kiss before smiling at you.

“We’ll start over. I’m never leaving you again. I’m never going to give up on you. We’ll finally have what we both deserved.” He feels your walls fluttering around his one finger so he added another, thumb flicking your nub harder, forcing you to release.

“Mmm!” You bit your bottom lip as an orgasm was forced out of you, pleasure showering you as your eyes shut tightly.

“So fucking beautiful…” Steve pulls his hand out of your jeans before quickly placing his fingers inside his mouth to taste you.

“So fucking delicious as well.” He helps you up carefully before guiding you out of the school and into his car.

“I’ll drive you to school and from school from now on. There won’t be a time when I’m not watching over you. I’ll protect you from now on. I’m going to right every wrong thing I did to you, baby…” He leans down to kiss your lips then your head before fixing your seatbelt for you and starting the car.

“Everything will be better now.”

----

a/n: been trying to write but it’s just not working rn but im trying to come thru hehe

taglist

General: @readermia @unlikelygalaxygiver @xoxabs88xox @anncutamarica @chaoticfiretaconerd @i-love-superhero @caffiend-queen @coconutqueen21 @jtargaryen18 @jennmurawski13 @mushyjellybeans @ninjabucky @evnscvll @buckstaybucky @donutloverxo @rebloggingeverything @adriannajackson @la-cey @awaywithtime @gotnofucks @empath-bunny @belovedcherry @littlegasps

Anything Chris: @patzammit @princess-evans-addict @shadowcatsworld @notyourtypicalrose @onetwo3000 @bluemusickid @heyiamthatbitch @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @slytherinandoutasgard

Chris and seb: @harrysthiccthighss

Marvel: @jemzeraion

[kisekinodrabbles]

Can we get detective Aomine, who gets assigned a female partner but from the start they're always at each other's throats. During an undercover case, reader has to be super flirty and Aomine gets all jealous and mutual confessions ensues. Maybe some sexy times at the end? :') Sorry if this is too specific, feel free to come up with your own interpretation! I'm such a huge fan of your work Sam and I'm so excited that you're opening your askbox even just for a little while!

ngl idk what im doing here but this is the last request in my inbox so i wanted to finish it haha pls enjoy (not proofread so excuse mistakes) - also my first time writing smut in like years so forgive me!!

Sometimes, Aomine thinks that if he isn’t a law and order professional, he thinks he might actually commit murder and hide your body away in some undisclosed, obscure location. Most of the time, you feel the same way about him. 

The two work in different divisions—Aomine in homicide and you in robbery. The two divisions have always been highly competitive especially given how much overlap you both encounter. Things can get territorial, but their teams are used to your snide remarks and Aomine’s verbal assault. It’s just the way the world works. 

After all, the two of you were in the same graduating class. You, a valedictorian by books. Aomine, top of the class by combat. It’s natural that the two of you are so competitive with your conflicting personalities.

The two of you may have also fucked at some point. 

–

“I’m not fucking working with her, are you kidding me?” Aomine spits out at his boss. Any other person would’ve been kicked out of the room or probably fired, but Aomine is the best detective in his division so Akashi would never do such a thing. For now. Aomine’s been wearing his patience thin. 

The red-haired man sighs, folding his hands together atop his desk. “Aomine, I understand you both have had your immaturity in the past. This, however, isn’t the time for such trivial matters. There’s a double homicide downtown during a robbery. She’s the lead for the case on the robbery end because they’ve been tracking a series of these.” Aomine opens his mouth to argue again. “No more buts. She’s already down there getting witness statements. Unless you want to be behind again, I suggest you get in your car and start driving.” 

He grits his teeth. Breathe. Don’t strangle your boss, he’ll probably kill you first. “I’ll take Wakamatsu.”

By the time he arrives on the scene, a crowd has gathered behind the police line, snapping pictures in the hopes of getting something Twitter worthy. He growls past all of them and ducks underneath the tape. “Where’s the officer that called it in?”

“Inside talking to the detective.”

“I’m the detective,” he snaps right back, knowing full well you’re already three steps ahead of him. And you definitely won’t let him forget that.

He marches past the thick front doors, Wakamatsu in tow. From a distance, he spots you talking to another officer. When he finally approaches you, he realizes that you’re in a skin tight dress covered by an oversized police jacket.

Your name slips past his lips. “Did we interrupt a hot date?” He smirks.

You whirl around, knowing full well the irritating voice that grates on your nerves. Aomine Daiki. “Unlike you, I have actual friends and actual plans on a Friday night. Did you decide to give your wrist a break for the night?” 

Aomine bites back, “Well, it’s not getting much rest either when I had my fingers knuckle deep in something tight and wet tonight.” Complete lie but he’s not about to lose this battle. “Not sure you know how that feels though.”

“If you’re talking about the pudding in your fridge, you might want to ease up on that. Doesn’t look like it’s doing you any favors,” you smile right back at him, knowing full well you’ve won this argument.

Aomine growls low under his breath, jabbing Wakamatsu hard with his elbow when he hears the snort escape him. “Brief me on the situation,” he tells the police officer.

“Well, uh, I already told this detective here—”

“I’m the other detective in charge for homicide. Now, you better fucking brief me before I tell your captain.”

The guy glances at you warily and you just laugh. “Told you he hasn’t gotten any in a long time. Come on, sugar, I’ll brief you on the way down to the vault.” You curl your finger in a gesture to get him to follow you and he sucks up his pride for the first time and do as he’s told. If he solves this case, he still gets the credit and you can go back to that sewer where you came from.

There are two bodies at the vault and forensics are already working to collect evidence when they arrive. “Your area of expertise, double homicide. Both are surprisingly the robbers. Four of them broke in, only two were seen exiting with money bags. No other casualties.”

“Fucking weird,” Aomine mutters. It’s not new for robberies to go wrong, but for two of them to die with no civilian casualty? That’s fucking weird.  

“Interesting, isn’t it?” You grin, seeming way too pleased considering there are two dead people in front them. “The ammo is the same as the previous bank robberies in the area. We’re going to assume they’re linked to the Red Dragon clan.”

“Fuck,” he groans, “I fucking hate those guys. Bitches to deal with. Hard to infiltrate.”

You flick your hair over your shoulder, grinning at him. He can’t help but draw his gaze to your neck, a very attractive neck. Now that he notices how tight that dress is, he can’t help but admit that it has been a while since he’s gotten any action. The curves of your breast defined so clearly by the fabric that stretches across the mounds, the flow of your hips, every dip and rise. Your exposed legs further emphasized by your heels. God fucking damn. He feels his pants tighten as he licks his teeth. Get it together, Aomine. 

Of course, the clothes do nothing to remove the memory of your nude body from his mind. He’s seen all parts of you some time ago. A drunken mistake that ended in a brief, but extremely satisfying night of passion. Your tight pussy wrapped around his cock, your nails digging into his biceps. He can still picture the sheen layer of sweat on your skin as he rams into you, your broken moans falling from your lips. 

“Well, lucky for you,” you start again, pulling him out of the hazy cloud of lust. “I already have someone on the inside. They’ve set up a meeting for me tomorrow night meet with the head’s son. I’ll try to get some information done.” 

“Lucky for you, I’m free tomorrow to be your backup. You’re welcome,” Aomine smiles, “Don’t fuck this up. I don’t feel like cleaning up after your ass.”

“I should say that about you, asshole.”

–

Aomine is sat in a dingy van just across the street from the bar you’re having your meeting. You’ve hidden your mic in the perfect spot, a location which you do not disclose to Aomine. However, he has a feeling it’s somewhere promiscuous that he wants to be aware of. They can see the restaurant clearly, their brat hacker Sakurai having plugged into the restaurant’s security cameras. 

“Shut the fuck up, Aomine. I can hear you munching on your stupid sour cream and onion chips.” You mutter into your mic before the guy arrives. You sip your wine and take a deep breath. This isn’t the first time you’ve gone undercover but it is the first time to have Aomine behind you while you do so. 

The detective looks down at the can in his hands. Sour cream and onion. How did you know? He sets it aside, bringing the mic up to his lips. “Maybe you should do your job better and focus on your meeting instead of listening to me. Why are you so obsessed with me, hm?” 

However, a man’s voice on the other side of the headphones has him straightening. “Good evening, I didn’t expect to be meeting a lovely lady like you tonight,” the sleaze says and Aomine can just imagine him kissing your hand. “When Tanaka said I’d be meeting with the right hand of White Claw, I didn’t expect it to be a woman.”

“Well, we are moving up in life, Mr. Ito.”

“Your good looks are certainly quite persuasive. I’m sure there are ways you can convince me to strike a deal.”

Fucking. Sleaze.

“Oh,” you laugh lightly, “what a flatterer. You’re not so bad yourself. I can imagine people fall at their feet for you.”

“Well, I am quite knowledgeable in more ways than one. Perhaps I can show you tonight after dinner.”

The two banter back and forth, trading flirty comments that puts Aomine on edge. You’re supposed to be doing your job and he knows that. He knows this is all an act but you’re a damn good actress. 

“Aomine, where are you going?” Wakamatsu’s concerned voice carries through the speaker.

You freeze. This fucker better not screw this whole operation up. “Well,” you say, “this has been a lovely dinner. I’m sure we both can come to an agreement without doing anything reckless.” 

The double meaning, a sentence meant for the man across from you and the man listening to you rings clear. Aomine growls, sitting back down petulantly in his seat. He was about to rage in there and start a war, but holds himself back. Be professional, Aomine. Job first, dick needs later. 

“The same to you. It’s been a pleasure meeting you,” the man smiles. “Are you sure you won’t join me for the night?”

Aomine snarls low into his mic. Wakamatsu shoots him a weird look. You let out a little giggle and he knows it’s meant for him. “No, thank you, Mr. Ito. I’m afraid I have other commitments to tend to.” 

When he knows it’s safe, he storms into the restaurant where you still sit, sipping your drink. Sliding into the seat across from you, he rolls his eyes. “Enjoy yourself?” 

He didn’t see when you were set up with the mic earlier so he also hadn’t seen what you were wearing. He’s almost grateful because he knows he might’ve lost it if he did. Tight ass dress, deep neckline that shows ample cleavage (he’s always a sucker for this), sultry eyes, red lips. God, all his favorite things packaged into one. 

Your lips quirk up. “The breadsticks here are quite nice.”

“Fucking hilarious. Let’s go.”

“Why the hurry?”

“Unless you want Wakamatsu to hear me fuck you, you better dump that mic and get your ass up.”

You lean back, narrowing your eyes at him. “I’m not sure I like your tone.”

“Trust me, you don’t have to like my tone to enjoy what I’m going to do to you.”

Licking your lips, you consider your options as you bring the wine back to your lips. “Fine,” you mutter, unclipping the mic from the strap of your dress. Aomine moves faster though, snatching it from your hands and dumping it into the wine. Before you can protest, he already has a hand wrapped around yours, tugging you up from your seat and into the back room. 

You’re stumbling in his manic rush, heels barely keeping up with your movements. “Aomine!” You chide as he pushes all the way to the employee break room. The space is fortunately empty and Aomine locks it to make sure it stays that way. “Can you please stop?! You’re such a caveman, I—”

He’s quick to shut you up, swallowing your words with his lips as they slot over yours. He doesn’t waste time, shrugging off his leather jacket as he licks your bottom lip for permission. You gasp a complaint, but he takes advantage of the situation to stick his tongue in, pressing it up against yours. 

All your worries fall away into a moan as he separates from you only to gasp for breath and pull his t-shirt over his head. With nimble fingers, he’s unzipping the back of your dress and yanking it down, leaving your top half exposed. Shivering, you’re about to voice your disapproval but your brain seems to stop functioning the second your gaze lands on his tanned body.

Aomine’s always been attractive. No one can deny. There’s a reason why he’s simultaneously the precinct’s most eligible bachelorette and most insufferable jackass. His confidence matches his skills. His looks live up to his brags. Hard lines and shadows are painted on him like a masterpiece in a museum. His broad shoulders make him look even bigger with his height. His jeans that hang just low enough to be tantalizing with the hint of a v that leads to the space between his legs. 

Your mouth dries up at the sight and Aomine smirks knowingly. You’ve fallen into his bed before, he can make it happen again. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Fifth grade humor doesn’t become you, Aomine.” You scowl as he backs you up against the table in the middle of the room. He effortlessly grabs you by the ass to lift you up and onto the surface, the metal cool against your exposed thighs. 

“Did you dress up for me, doll? Knowing full well that this was going to happen,” he grins devilishly, bringing his hands up to shamelessly cup your breasts. 

It’s not as if you’re embarrassed for being so bare before him. You’re proud of your body and he damn well knows that. You let him fondle you through your bra for a little bit. “No, you animal. I dress for the job.”

“You tell me you wear this flimsy thing—” he teases the light coverage of your lingerie. The lace is sheer and barely covers your nipples, the material holding onto your breasts for dear life. “—for the job?”

“I do my job right, asshole,” you spat right back. “So are you just going to stand there or are you going to fuck me?”

A wide grin stretches across his face. The heat in his eyes carry to his hands as he works to unclasp your bra and let it fall to the ground. Aomine doesn’t waste time as you lean back on your palms, granting him full access to fondle and suckle on your tits. His tongue swirls around the sensitive nubs that have grown stiff in the contrast between the cold air and his warm breath. His teeth graze the sensitive skin hard enough to have you groaning in pleasure. His lips close in around them and suck. He uses his hand to tease and tug your other breast, pinching it to elicit that delicious whimper out of you. Aomine alternates between the two, making sure you stay warm. 

Meanwhile, you let your hand fall to the bulge between his legs. He lets out a small grunt at the initial touch but seems to respond favorably to the way you stroke the tent, nudging his hips forward for more friction. “Is that a gun in your pants or are you just excited to see me?”

“You’re so fucking ridiculous,” Aomine mutters, both humored and unamused by your comment. 

“Fuck,” you let slip as your fingers struggle to unbutton his jeans. “Your fucking pants. Don’t you live in sweats? You choose today of all days to wear your stupid tight jeans?”

Aomine chuckles, “Patience, baby. You know you like my ass in these.”

You do, but you’re not about to admit that. He quickly works off his pants, letting them drop to his ankles as he moves towards you again. While he continues to stimulate your tits, your hand begins groping his cock which is rock hard and peeking from the top of his boxers.

“God, I miss having this inside me,” you whine, pulling the flimsy fabric off and letting it pool on top of his jeans. “Condom?”

“You don’t want me raw? You know you want to feel all of my cock,” he grins. You throw him a glare and he just chuckles as he reaches for his wallet on the floor, pulling out a packet and tossing it onto the table. “But first,” he pauses, letting his hands slide down to cup your pussy, which is admittedly already drenched at that point. 

He hisses when he feels your juices drip and coat his fingers. “You’re so fucking wet, goddamn. How long have you been waiting for this?”

“When that robbery happened, I was about to get laid for the first time in months. So fucking sue me,” you snarl at him. 

“Well, I am here to please,” he wets his lips. He slips one finger in, sliding in all too easily. So he adds another finger and feels your walls pulse around him. He begins pulling it out before shoving it back in, repeating the measure to stroke your walls. He curls his fingers inside as he watches your face closely.

Your expression morphs from irritation to blinding pleasure in an instant. Your eyes slide shut, your lips part to exhale shaky breaths. Aomine seems to know exactly how to angle and twist his fingers to induce a heart attack. The sounds falling from your mouth are ephemeral, Aomine wishes he can film this moment so he can replay it over and over again. 

He pumps his fingers into you and ducks his head to take your nipple into his mouth again, tongue circling the tip. “God, you taste so fucking good. I forgot how wet you can get. Don’t even need lube to slide into you, huh? You’re already dripping for me.” 

“Asshole,” you murmur weakly, clearly in no place to retort. 

“Remember the first time I fucked you? God, you were so easy,” he grins, “you were so wet, so turned on already. Remember when I stuck my tongue in your pussy? Licking up your juices. You tasted so sweet.” 

Your breath stutters in your chest, hitching in your throat. “Fuck you, let’s not forget how quickly you came when I sucked you off.”

“I mean, the sight of you on your knees is enough to get anyone off, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck me,” you groan. Any rational thought has fizzled from your brain. The feeling of his fingers inside you is enough to consume you whole, overwhelming you in waves of rapture. 

“What was that?”

“Dickwad.”

He chuckles darkly, licking his lips again. “Beg me.”

“I’m not going to—”

Aomine yanks his fingers out, looking down at you, taunting you. He waits as you internally struggle with your moral convictions. Are you willing to give up your pride for one night just to get fucked out of your mind?

Easy.

Yes.

“Please,” you huff, “please fuck me.” 

“Please fuck me who?”

Your eyes find the ceiling, wondering what in the hell you did in your lifetime to have met the devil that is Aomine. Biting your lip, you lean closer to whisper, “Please fuck me, Da-i-ki.” 

The man is a sucker for you calling him by his first name. And to get what you want, you’re willing to play into his hands. Aomine lets out a low growl before ripping open the condom packet and rolling the thin rubber along his length. Your pussy squeezes at the sight. Just imagining what it’s like to have that thickness inside of you, fucking you full, has you on edge. 

He doesn’t waste a single second, pulling you forward and slowly positioning himself in front of you. He holds onto his cock, letting the tip trace your pussy lips, circling it and letting your juices drip onto his cock. Stroking the wetness along his dick, he uses it as a lubricant before he slides himself inside you.

When he’s buried to the hilt, Aomine leans forward and lets his forehead rest on your shoulder. Your pussy is so fucking tight. It’s squeezing and throbbing around him with the engulfing heat. He feels as if he’s going to explode right then. 

“Fuck, you really haven’t been screwed in a while,” Aomine rasps. 

“Told you.”

Aomine starts off slow, pulling out and pushing back in. With how thin the condom is, he can feel every ridge, every bump in your heat rub up against his cock. The sensations is enough to have his thighs quivering, but he’s not one to back down. He begins to pick up the pace, thrusting deep inside of you repeatedly. HIs mouth latches onto your neck, tongue lapping and teeth nipping to paint purple blooms upon your skin. 

His movements are building a bubbling pressure in the pit of your stomach. You feel your heart tightening with every move, your insides squeezing. The absolute pleasure that crashes over you has you breathless, your hands finding purchase on his arms. 

He mutters filthy words in your ear, one of his hands reaching up to tangle in your hair. He yanks back lightly, just enough to have you moaning. You like it rough, he’s well aware of that. He pounds into you relentlessly, hands keeping you in place as whimpers tumble from your mouth. 

“Fuck, right there, oh god,” you gasp, “fuck me harder. God, your dick feels so good. Filling me up so full with your thick cock.” 

“Keep talking like that and I’ll be tempted to come in you, baby,” Aomine grazes his teeth along your ear, hot breath kissing your skin. “God, I want to just fucking cream inside you.” 

“Better watch yourself, Daiki.”

Aomine grins lasciviously, sweat beginning to bead his forehead as he attempts to keep himself in check. He feels you tighten your pussy, walls closing in around him. “Bitch,” he growls. You know what you’re doing but he’s not about to let you gain dominance of the situation.

So his hands dig deeper into your hips as he fucks you harder and deeper, his cock pulsating inside of you on the brink of his self-control. “I’m about to come,” he says with eyes squeezed shut. If he sees your tits bouncing as he fucks you again, he might actually combust in that second. 

“Me too,” you panted, fingers scraping down his arms. 

With a few more pumps, Aomine spills into the rubber with a grunt. He feels you convulse around him, your entire body trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm. He can feel his come continue to leak from his cock. God, he hasn’t come this hard in a fucking long time. 

His heart is thundering in his chest from the impact of his climax. He slumped forward, leaning against you for support—also partially to feel your tits press up against his chest. “Fuck,” he huffs.

“That was good,” you admit to yourself, still breathing heavily as you begin fixing your hair. “We should do that again sometime.”

Aomine just laughs, huffing against your skin. “You’re the fucking she-devil.”

“Says the guy who’s fucking me in the back room in the middle of an undercover operation.”

“Dick first, job second.”

–

Wakamatsu looks at him when he walks into the precinct that morning. “You do realize the captain is going to kill you for fucking up that expensive mic, right?”

Fuck.

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

The Problem with Perfection Chapter 10 spoilers!

Hey all! So, a couple people asked for this, so I figured I’d post it. It’s chapter 8 of the companion to TPWP, The Problem with Mondo, which corresponds with chapter 10 of TPWP. Yes, this confuses me a lot too, the fact that the chapters don’t align. -.-

Anyway! Don’t read this if you’ve not read TPWP chapter 10, since it will definitely spoil that chapter, ha. Warning for an overabundance of foul language and some sexualized thinking, as well as an absent thought of suicide, same as in TPWP. This chapter is super long, about 20,000 words, and I’m posting all of it because... why not, am I right? Ha.

I did cut a few sentences from this chapter because they might spoil things for later chapters of TPWP, but they don’t really contain anything major.

The chapter is below the cut! Hope y’all like. :-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mondo is angry. Blindingly angry. So angry he doesn’t know why he’s angry, but honestly, what else is new? He just knows that he’s angry and the reason he is angry is that goddamn motherfucking kid and his goddamn motherfucking glasses-

 “They! Are!! Glasses!!! Just!!! Wear them!!!” the boy grits out, thrusting his goddamn hand out towards Mondo, looking like he is about five fucking seconds from bashing his head against the goddamn wall. Mondo almost wishes he fucking would, to save him the fucking trouble! Unable to help himself, he scowls and crosses his arms, shaking his head firmly, so fucking pissed it ain’t even funny. 

 “No! I ain’t no fuckin’ nerd!” Mondo yells back, glaring like he was born to do it. Unfortunately, it seems so was Ishimaru, as the kid is glaring like his life depends on it, as fiery and beautiful passionate as ever. That goddamn motherfucking... 

 “Just! Wear them! The doctor says you need them! You don’t have to wear them all the time! Just when you’re reading! Stop! Being an idiot!”

 “Me?! I ain’t no fuckin’ idiot, you’re a fuckin’ idiot! If ya think I’m gonna wear that shit, yer outta yer goddamn mind! Now get that shit outta my face, ya fuckwad, or I’m gonna bash yer head in!” 

 “Like heck you will! You’re all bark and no bite, Owada! Now just! Wear! The! Glasses! You said you were okay with them when you bought them! I will force you to wear them, don’t think I won’t!” 

 “Oh, you motherfuckin’-!”

 “U-uh, g-guys?”

 Mondo and Ishimaru turn, as one, to glare at the intruder on their private fucking conversation. Okay, so maybe they’re in the middle of the hallway outside their dorm rooms, but fuck! That don’t mean shit! Eavesdropping is a nasty fucking habit and if this goddamn motherfucker doesn’t butt the fuck out right the fuck now- 

 “Shut up!” the pair shouts in unison, before turning to glare at each other again. 

 Mondo doesn’t know why he’s so angry. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, or why he has been doing this for the past week and a half. From hot, to cold, to hot, to cold, again and again and again, never fucking ceasing. One minute he’s fine, relaxed as shit and not at all angry, maybe even feeling kinda good, and then the next...

 And he doesn’t know why. Why he’s doing this. Why he’s fucking ruining this shit, like he fucking ruins every fucking thing. He... h-he just... 

 Things had been okay, you know? Between him and Ishimaru. At first. Sure, they weren’t really friends, evidenced by how they are still referring to one another by last name, but they’d been friendly enough. Mondo had taken care to keep his anger in check, and— to his surprise— it... it hadn’t actually been that hard. It seems that Ishimaru can be pretty fucking cool when they’re not at odds. 

 He’s also a great fucking tutor. He somehow manages to not sound sanctimonious and pretentious when explaining shit, instead looking so fucking earnest and like he genuinely wants to just... help. 

 Because of that, they’d gotten along pretty well those first few days. Ishimaru had been determined to get him brought up to speed before they started the fucking novel, so he’d taken care to spend a couple hours a day hanging around Mondo, at various times. The pair usually spent an hour or so in the library after class ended, but more than that, they just... they would walk together between classes, Ishimaru rambling on and on about what they’d just learned about in class. Mondo doesn’t know why he’d allowed it, usually not caring about shit like that, but somehow... somehow, it had been nice. Hearing Ishimaru talk about the shit they’d learned, the kid better able to impart knowledge in the ten fucking minutes they had between classes than the teachers were able to in the hour plus they had. It’s not at all the sorta shit Mondo would have expected himself to enjoy, let alone look forward to, but shit. There they were. 

 But then... Mondo got stupid. He overstepped his bounds and got fucking scared, fuck. 

 They’d been in Ishimaru’s room. Mondo doesn’t know why he’d made the offer to go to the kid’s room rather than the library, like they usually did, like was safe, but he... he had. And the kid had fucking accepted, and so there they were, sitting on the hall monitor’s fucking couch, sitting too fucking close. The kid was reading the short story Teach had assigned to the class, the pair realizing it was just... easier, while Mondo waited for the nurse to contact the eye doctor for him, since it turned out that yeah, his eyes were kinda fucked up, shit. 

 He had felt so fucking weird inside, the first time the kid had read to him, since they’d been in the library and he’d been nervous someone would see them and think Mondo was an idiot who needed to be fucking read to, but... shit. This time it had just been... different. Without the fear of being judged (since Ishimaru never fucking judged him, not ever, god fucking damn), he... he’d been able to listen to the kid reading without any fucking reservations. And he’d had to admit that- that he... he liked it. A lot. Like... fucking a lot. 

 So fucking much that it had made him feel relaxed for the first time... shit. Prolly ever. Ishimaru just had a nice sounding voice, ya know? It was strangely deep, at times, when he got lost in the story, his words not too fast but not too slow. He actually emoted when he spoke, too, the sound not a dull and dry monotone like so many fucking other people he’s heard read before. It just... made him feel so fucking calm inside, like the monster inside of him had been fucking purring. 

 And... and then...

 Mondo had let his head drop down onto Ishimaru’s shoulder, eyes closing in contentment, the kid faltering for one split second, breath hitched, before he’d smoothly continued, like it had never happened. And with his eyes closed and his head resting on a warm, comfortable shoulder, hearing that wonderful cadence from that wonderful, beautiful mouth... he hadn’t been able to stop the thought. And the thought he had was... 

 God, his voice is so fucking nice, isn’t it...? Wonder what it would sound like screaming your name as you pound the fuck outta him. He’d prolly be loud as shit, so fucking passionate, clawing you to all hell, but damn if you’d mind. Shit... wouldn’t that be fucking nice...

 He had been, to put it mildly, freaked the fuck out. 

 His eyes had shot open the second the thought had crossed his mind, heart fucking pounding as he wondered where the goddamn fuck that shit came from. Ishimaru had been startled, looking at him with his wide fucking eyes, lips opened softly in shock, voice faltering for the first time and Mondo... Mondo couldn’t fucking handle it, holy fucking shit. 

 He’d immediately stood and stammered out some bullshit about needing to check on his hog, before fucking bailing, eyes wide and heart an absolute mess. He had, indeed, gone out to his hog and rode around for a bit, not wanting to think, but he’d been unable to help it. To stop it. And it... it made him feel...

 He’s not gay. Okay? He’s fucking not. There’d be no fucking problem if he were, but he just ain’t. He likes chicks, something he knows better than anything else, something he’s known since he was a fucking kid, goddamn. He’d even made sure to look at his porno mags that night, reassured when he felt his dick harden so fucking hard as he saw the tits and pussy that always made him so fucking hard to see. 

 So, he wasn’t gay. He fucking couldn’t be gay, and it’s not possible for him to like both, so he figured that the thought had meant... meant Mondo wanted to fucking pound Ishimaru’s head in, not- n-not any other meaning of the word that it could have meant. He guessed that he didn’t like being around Ishimaru as much as he had assumed and that he actually hated him, after all. 

 As freaked out as he’d been, he took hold of that idea and fucking ran with it. He told himself that he hated the kid, of course he hated him, his voice was fucking annoying as shit, not nice, not nice at all! 

 And so, the next day, he’d been cold to the kid. So fucking cold. And when the kid had tried to approach him after home room ended, looking open and earnest and so fucking cute-

 Mondo hadn’t been able to handle it. His stomach had clenched, and his heart had fucking lurched, and he told himself it was hatred he felt, it had to be fucking hatred. And so, he’d snarled at the kid, telling him to ‘get the fuck away from me, freak!’ before he’d run off, heart aching so fucking stupidly. 

 He had considered skipping class, getting on his hog and fucking booking it, but he needed to give his girl a break, and he still kinda wanted to try the whole ‘giving school a chance’ thing, so he’d eventually decided to storm into class, even if he’d been five minutes late. He’d refused to look at Ishimaru, though, thinking that seeing his stupid fucking pathetic face would fucking destroy him infuriate the shit out of him, and as soon as class ended, he’d shot out, not needing to pack anything up since he’d not fucking brought anything, shit. 

 That had kept happening the rest of the day. Every class they had together (which was pretty much every fucking class, god fucking damn this school) Mondo would carefully keep his eyes off the kid, ignoring the feel of sad, hurt, bright red eyes as they bored into him. After the second class, the kid had tried to chase after him, tried to talk to him, but Mondo would fucking turn and head the opposite fucking direction of their next class, and he knew the kid wouldn’t dare risk being late, so he’d give up pretty quick. He’d constantly be looking in class, though, lips pulled down in a frown, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Not that Mondo was fucking looking! Shit! 

 It wasn’t until Ishimaru had cornered him outside his dorm room that night, looking so fucking hurt and upset and not a little bit annoyed that they’d managed to resolve things. 

 In that Ishimaru had been so fucking annoying that Mondo had immediately started yelling, causing Ishimaru to yell back, his words bleeding hurt, making Mondo feel like absolute scum. They had been loud enough to garner the attention of most of their classmates, even fucking Togami gracing them with his condescending presence, which had made Mondo even more pissed, honestly, wanting nothing more than to be anywhere fucking else.

 It was when the kid looked about ready to fucking cry that Mondo had had enough. His insides were squirming, and he felt so fucking scared, for reasons he still doesn’t understand, but he... h-he hadn’t wanted to make Ishimaru cry again. After spending several days interacting with Ishimaru, having a lot of fucking conversations that hadn’t actually ended in the kid’s tears, he... he hadn’t wanted to go back to that. 

 And so, with all the confused fucking emotions swirling inside him, he’d yelled ‘fuckin’ fine, ya goddamn bastard! I’ll fuckin’ meet you and do that goddamn fuckin’ assignment tomorrow! Now leave me the fuck alone!’ before storming into his room and slamming the door shut so loud it made even his ears ring. 

 He’d then promptly stormed into the shower, turning the water on as hot as it could go, the water fucking hurting, but he’d wanted it to. He just... he’d felt so... so...

 Confused...

 He’d never felt this way for anyone before. So angry and scared and confused and yet also so fucking happy, so bizarrely, stupidly happy. Ishimaru fucking... he made him happy. And he didn’t know how to handle that, because clearly, he still hated the kid... right? Right? What other option was there? Why did he want to hit Ishimaru (and he had to want to hit him, it was the only fucking option that made any fucking sense) if he didn’t hate him? 

 But he’d agreed— stupidly— to meet with the kid for another fucking tutoring session after class the next day. And while the thought had made his insides squirm, he... fuck. He hadn’t wanted to make the kid cry again. God, did he not want that. Even if he did hate him— which he must, he must— he... fuck. 

 He couldn’t make him cry. 

 He wasn’t his goddamn old man.

 And so, when he got out of the shower, he’d resolved to contain his anger the next day. He’d push it down, keep it locked up tight tight tight, and he wouldn’t let it hurt Ishimaru. He’d gotten into bed (still hated it, but he was slowly getting use to the ridiculously plush material) and fallen into a fitful sleep, dreams full of wide, hurt red eyes, a sad voice begging him to explain why he was hurting him so. He’d woken an hour early with a start, heart pounding, and had spent the remaining time until he usually got up doing push-ups again and again and again, until he didn’t remember the dream anymore. 

 And then, when he went into class, carrying his supplies for once... he’d given the kid a small, sheepish smile, stomach roiling with all the emotions within it. He’d then spent the rest of home room doodling absently on the notebook Ishimaru had helped him pick out from the school store, doing his best to not think of everything and psych himself out. He’d even managed to feel almost calm as he let himself draw, something he rarely allows himself to do, but always has kinda enjoyed, even if he’s shit at it.

 Once home room ended, he’d waited for Ishimaru at the door, telling him as casually as he could that the nurse had contacted him the day before, saying she’d scheduled an eye doctor (he still can’t remember the official name Ishimaru called the dude, shit) appointment for 3:00 the next day, hesitantly asking the kid if he had wanted to come along. He could tell that the kid was taken aback, clearly not having expected such a thing, but he’d still stammered out an acceptance, looking so flustered it wasn’t funny when Mondo turned to look at him with a small, soft smile. He’d not meant to look at the kid like that, but he’d just... been unable to help it. 

 The rest of the day had gone well, the tutoring session going nicely like it had before that stupid fucking bullshit two days prior. It had happened in the library again, which Mondo figured would be safer. He’d almost started to hope that things would stay that way, stay as calm and easy and nice, but then-

 Mondo got angry. Again. 

 He doesn’t even know why, he never fucking does, but the kid had just... he’d been so fucking patient, helping Mondo pick out a pair of ‘reading glasses,’ since the doc had said he had pretty bad close-up vision and would be benefited from having prescription reading glasses, not just the over-the-counter stuff you find at drug stores. Mondo had felt so fucking lost, no idea what any of the bullshit meant, but Ishimaru had... he’d been so fucking helpful, explaining the complicated terminology and shit, helping him find a pair that didn’t make him look too much like a fucking nerd. And the pair he settled on was honestly kinda nice. It was a rectangular silver metal frame that had deep purple plastic on the sides, and it actually make him look kinda cool... if a bit nerdy. He’d given the salesperson his school insurance card and was pleasantly surprised to find he’d not have to pay a penny for the frames, since the school covers shit like that. 

 It was then, as he and Ishimaru exited the shop and the kid absently commented that the glasses made him look very smart that Mondo just... fucking lost it. 

 And he doesn’t even know why.

 It just... it made him feel weird inside. Being around the kid. Being soft with him. And he was. Soft. Soft and kind and fucking gentle. And the kid was the exact same back. The entire time they’d been in the shop, Mondo had been thinking how nice it had felt. How domestic. The panic and fear had been slowly rising in him the entire time they’d been in the store, and he’d done all he could to push it the fuck down, but he... he hadn’t...

 He’d left the kid standing there, looking so fucking confused, as he hopped on his hog and drove away. He’d not cared how the kid would get back to the school, he had refused to ride with Mondo since it made him ‘nervous’ anyway, so it wasn’t his fucking problem.

 And that pattern just... kept repeating. Mondo would get angry, say something toxic to the kid, and storm away. The kid would wait a couple of hours, maybe try and talk with him after class or something, only to eventually corner him and force him to talk to him, looking so fucking fed up, but also so fucking upset and sad and confused. Like he didn’t know why Mondo was doing this to him. Like he didn’t know why Mondo was being so fucking difficult. Like he... he didn’t...

 Didn’t know why he fucking bothered...

 And… honestly? Mondo didn’t know why either. Why he kept trying. Why he was so stubborn, always chasing after Mondo even after Mondo fucking shoved him away, sometimes literally. Even when Mondo would get so fucking nasty, making tears build up in the kid’s eyes, frustration clear in his every movement. 

 For almost two weeks this occurred, again and again and again, and Mondo... Mondo doesn’t know why the kid doesn’t just leave him already. Why he doesn’t just say ‘the hell with it,’ realize Mondo isn’t fucking worth it, and leave his ass. Like every other person on the face of this goddamn planet... 

 It’s only a matter of time until he does, though. Leave him. It’s what always was going to happen, since Mondo couldn’t ever hope to hold onto someone so very, very good. So very, very nice. Mondo is poison. He’s gas. He only knows how to destroy and break and hurt. 

 He’s not allowed something nice. 

 He’s not allowed someone nice. 

 He’s just...

 Not worthy of it. 

 Case in fucking point...

 “Look. Owada-kun,” Ishimaru spits, hands clenched around the stupid glasses case that he for some reason has (Mondo doesn’t even know how he’d gotten a hold of them, shit), looking like he wants to crush them, shit. “I don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn about this! You picked them out! You said they were fine! Why! Why have you changed your mind!”

 Mondo scowls at the words, heart racing and swirling and hurting, hurting, hurting, and he doesn’t wanna be doing this, wants to stop, but he can’t, he can’t, he fucking can’t! He doesn’t know how to stop this, doesn’t know how to make this go away, all he knows how to do is break and hurt and destroy, destroy, destroy-

 “I ain’t changed shit! I never fuckin’ agreed ta wear fuckin’ glasses, now get the fuck outta my face!” 

 It’s a lie. They both know it’s a lie, he can see the anger rising on Ishimaru’s face as he processes the abject lie. Mondo had, in fact, agreed on the glasses, had even kinda liked them, but he can’t concede that, can’t say he does, if he does then- then that means he’s okay with this, this weird thing he has going on with Ishimaru, and he doesn’t know if he can handle that, handle the proof that Ishimaru is so fucking amazing, the proof that Mondo doesn’t fucking deserve him, proof that... t-that he... 

 Mondo can’t take it. He can’t fucking take it! He tries to leave, to get away, to fucking end this shit already, but then Ishimaru is grabbing hold of him, holding so fucking tight, and Mondo tries to break free, tries to get away, but the kid just doesn’t fucking let go, and Mondo is so fucking freaked out, he just wants to leave, please god, let him just leave, don’t let him break this fucking kid again, god, please- 

 “You-! You are the most infuriating, pig-headed, arrogant... jerk I have ever had the misfortune to meet! If I never saw your face again, it wouldn’t be long enough!”

 “Oh, I’m so wounded, please don’t call me anymore fuckin’ names like that, how the fuck am I ever gonna recover?!” Mondo snarls, sarcasm so thick he’s sure even Ishimaru will be able to pick up on it, wanting to stop but not being able to. “Grow the fuck up, ya cock suckin’ assfucker! Learn some better fuckin’ insults or don’t even bother tryin’ ta play!”

 “Just because I am too sophisticated to resort to such foul language does not mean anything! You may be a lowly, classless heathen, but I, for one, refuse-”

 “Oh, so now ya think yer fuckin’ better than me?! I told ya already, y’ain’t goddamn shit, Ishimaru! Ain’t no shit at all!”

 “I am one hundred times the man you will ever hope to be! And if I’m not... feces, then you’re not even worth anything at all! Y-you’re... you’re an amoeba, so tiny and insignificant that it’s a miracle you think you’re relevant at all!”

 “What the fuck did ya call me, ya son ofa bitch?!”

 Mondo sees the kid open his mouth— likely to fire something back, barely any space between them— holding onto Mondo’s arm so fucking tight, like his life depends on it or something, looking so fucking pissed and angry and hurt and fucking beautiful, so fucking beautiful, god fucking damnit-

 But before the kid can say anything, another voice pipes up, the same voice as earlier, making Mondo’s rage reach a paramount, oh god-

 “Aw, come on! I thought you guys resolved things already, do you really have to do this?! Please!” 

 Mondo turns to the fucking eavesdropper, snarling at the beyond fucking average boy. Naegi turns super fucking pale at the look, but he doesn’t cower away for once. Mondo doesn’t care. He’s far passed the point of caring. 

 “I told ya ta stay the fuck outta this!” 

 Naegi frowns, but Mondo doesn’t give him a chance to say any other stupid ass thing before he’s turning back to Ishimaru, eyes practically spitting fire as he stares so deep into Ishimaru’s that it feels almost like a physical embrace. It makes Mondo’s breath hitch for some stupid fucking reason, his stomach swirling as he looks deep into the most gorgeous fucking eyes he’s ever fucking seen-

 But he can’t feel things like that, so he pushes it firmly away. 

 He can hear their eavesdropper fucking sigh, soft and almost disappointed, and that should make Mondo even angrier, but something in Mondo is feeling so fucking weird now. G-god... he doesn’t even know how to begin to describe it, other than it feels like he’s on fire, but not even in a bad way. Ishimaru is staring at him, eyes wide, anger in them, but also something else, something Mondo can’t understand, no matter how much he fucking wants to. 

 He can’t let this end here. He wants to let it end, but he fucking can’t. He... h-he needs to figure out how to settle this, how to make this stop, how to not be as fucking pathetic as he knows he is. He... he needs to prove that he’s not as worthless as they both know he is, as weak, as nothing, so fucking nothing. Everyone knows it, knows he doesn’t belong here, knows that Ishimaru is so much better than him it’s not funny, but he- he needs to prove that he has something going for him, that he... he can do something, even if he’s worthless in every other regard, every other aspect, even if Ishimaru is better than him everywhere else he just needs to prove he can beat him at fucking something, god-

 He’s issuing the challenge before he can stop himself. 

 And god, is he so fucking afraid. 

 “You think yer so perfect, don’t ya, Ishimaru? Think yer better than me? Well... well, yer not, an’ I can fuckin’ prove it. I bet I can beat you, hands down, any day of the fuckin’ week. Y’ain’t better than me, ya shit fuck. Y’ain’t nothin’,” Mondo hisses, lying through his fucking teeth. Ishimaru is better than him. He knows it. He’s always known it. He hates it, though. Not being good enough. Not being worthy. He... he wants to be. Good enough. For... f-for... 

 Ishimaru’s eyes are shiny again, even despite his glare. 

 Typical. 

 “What?! Y-you guys aren’t going to- to fight, are you? Guys-!”

 Mondo breaks his stare down with Ishimaru to shoot that goddamn fucking bastard a single, solitary sneer, before turning back to Ishimaru, chest heaving with all the emotions he carries within him. 

 “Nah. Ground floor, there’s a sauna. Ya know it?” 

 Ishimaru blinks slowly, sluggish, before nodding slightly, looking very fucking confused. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his lips are pulled down, and he looks so fucking cute stupid, god. After a moment, though, it seems he understands what Mondo is getting at, the challenge he is suggesting, as his face lights up, eyes bright and passionate once more, an honest to god grin on his face. 

 Holy fucking shit... 

 “Aha! A simple endurance challenge! If that is your gauntlet, then I happily accept! I will wipe the floor with you!” 

 Despite the anger that is still flowing through him, Mondo can’t help the small smile that passes on his lips, something about the enthusiasm so fucking... not cute, not cute, not cute at all, but maybe, a little, teeny tiny bit... endearing? He pushes it away, though. It’s not helpful, here. 

 “Yer fuckin’ on. And you,” Mondo points blindly to Naegi— who ‘eeps’ at the gesture, fucking coward he is— not able to look away from Ishimaru for a single fucking second, “will be our witness. Got it?!” 

 As intently as Mondo is staring at Ishimaru, he doesn’t see the other kid’s response, but he can hear how Naegi splutters, the kid clearly not as enthusiastic about the idea as Ishimaru and himself are. Bastard. 

 “W-what?! Now?! B-but it’s so late... g-guys, are you sure this is a- a good idea-?!”

 “Yes, ya fuckin’ moron, it’s a fuckin’ great idea!” Mondo snarls, at the exact same time Ishimaru— eyes bright and feverish— exclaims, “yes! It is an excellent idea!” 

 Uncomfortable at their agreement, Mondo finally tears his eyes away, ignoring the churning feeling in his chest as he storms down the hall to where the bathhouse is, mere meters away. Ishimaru stares after him for a stunned second, but quickly spurs himself into motion, using his long-ish legs to catch up quick, head held high as they march determinedly on. God... he’s so fucking...

 Shit. 

 When they reach the bathhouse a few moments later, Mondo firmly pushes aside the rational voice inside him that is screaming at him not to do this. He knows his limits when it comes to endurance. While he’s not the best at running, he has great endurance for other things, especially pain and discomfort. (This sentence was removed due to ~~spoilers~~) 

 But Ishimaru... fuck. He’s so fucking passionate, so fucking determined, but who knows what his endurance is like? If he’ll be able to keep up? And it shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t give Mondo pause, but he... he can’t help the stab of concern that fills him as they enter the room, Mondo grabbing a ‘closed for repairs’ sign and putting it in front of the entrance, not wanting anyone to interrupt. 

 He hates the feeling and pushes it away as he turns to glare at Ishimaru, pointing a finger, not wanting to deal with such weakness, but he... he can’t quite manage to force it fully away... 

 Shit. 

 “Alright, here’s the fuckin’ terms. First ta tap out is a fuckin’ bitch ass loser who ain’t worth shit. The one who lasts the longest is the official winner. We ain’t allowed ta touch the other or do anythin’ ta them directly, this is strictly an endurance challenge. Oh, an’ we’re gonna do this fully clothed. What do ya say?!” 

 Mondo sees Ishimaru’s eyes widen when he gets to the last term, the kid fucking shaking his head sharply in denial. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. He’d added that last clause in last minute, realizing as he detailed the rules that they were gonna be fucking half fucking naked in there, and his mind had shorted the fuck out. He’s been in saunas fully clothed before, he knows he can handle it, but he isn’t fucking sure he can handle sitting nearly nude beside Ishi-fucking-maru...

 But of course, the kid wouldn’t fucking agree. Of fucking course...

 “I do not agree to that last term, but I agree to the rest!” 

 Glad his angry flush fully disguises the fucking embarrassed flush he can feel rising on his face, Mondo just nods tensely, sneering, as he storms over to the water cooler in the corner. 

 “Alright, whatever, fucker. Ya got five minutes ta prepare. Then, we’re fuckin’ doin’ this shit.” 

 With that, Mondo grabs a paper cup and downs some water, feeling so impossibly tense. He can feel Ishimaru staring at him, mouth partially open, but he gets spurned into action when Naegi shifts awkwardly beside him, chasing the kid away to one of the lockers, where he... he fucking...

 Starts taking off his fucking clothes...

 Holy. Fucking. Shit. 

 Mondo is staring. Mondo knows he shouldn’t be staring, knows it’s wrong to be staring, but he can’t fucking help it. His eyes are like magnets, drawn to the kid, watching as he takes off all of his fucking layers, folding each one so neatly and carefully as he sticks them in the small fucking locker. The kid hesitates a little when he gets to his fucking tighty-whities (of course the kid wears that shit, of fucking course), but ultimately, he doesn’t take them off. Instead, he bites his lip and grabs a white towel, wrapping it firmly around his waist before putting the rest of his stuff away. Mondo firmly pushes down the stupid as shit rush of disappointment and tells himself to stop staring, to look away, but god, he fucking can’t. Ishimaru, he...

 He’s so fucking gorgeous, so fucking hot, so fucking sexy-

 Mondo feels himself heat the fuck up when Ishimaru turns abruptly and looks him straight in the eyes, looking fucking startled at something. Feeling strangely caught, Mondo looks away as quick as he can, pushing away the stupid as shit thoughts, marching over to a locker stiffly. Shit... he’s gotta fucking get laid one of these days. The tension is doing fucked up shit to his brain... 

 He takes his time putting some of his more fragile shit away, like his crappy cellphone and his key card. He does, honestly, consider taking off his uniform, or at least taking off his duster, but he just... shit. Can’t. Not with how strange he feels inside, his mind’s eye still stupidly forcing him to think of Ishimaru, his stupidly muscular back flexing with every move he made. It means nothing, fucking nothing, but he... shit. It prolly would be better to remain fully clothed, duster included, even if it does put him at a disadvantage. But ya know what, whatever. Doesn’t matter. He knows his limits and knows that he can last longer in the sauna than Ishimaru, even when fully clothed. Shit...

 When the five minutes he gave them are up, he meets up with Ishimaru outside the entrance to the sauna, fully intending to slide it open and step inside, when-

 “Owada-kun, you cannot seriously be considering entering the sauna fully clothed! It’s suicide!” Ishimaru exclaims, sounding fucking concerned as shit. His eyes are wide, and his brows are furrowed, and he’s biting his fucking lip, god fucking damn, and it’s messing with Mondo’s head so fucking much. Why... why the fuck would he care?! Huh?! They’re not fucking friends! Why would he care if Mondo did try and kill himself, huh?! World would fucking be better off for it, shit! 

 Deciding to definitely not say that, Mondo just sneers at the kid, crossing his arms stubbornly. 

 “Just ‘cuz yer a fuckin’ pansy ass bitch don’t mean I am! Now, ya ready ta do this, or are ya a fuckin’ chicken?!”  

 His face flushed, Ishimaru doesn’t even bother to answer, instead just yanking open the door and entering the sauna with a stubborn tilt to his jaw. 

 Staring after the kid for a split second (pushing down the disappointment that he didn’t press the issue harder, proving to Mondo how fucking right he is), Mondo enters on Ishimaru’s heels, the heat not even bothering him one bit. 

 It’s nothing compared to the fire that constantly burns within him. 

 Sliding the door shut behind him, leaving Naegi outside to do whatever the fuck he wants while the contest takes place, Mondo marches over to where Ishimaru is sitting, taking a seat an arm’s length away. He can feel bright red eyes on him, but he determinedly pushes the feeling away, trading a few snide comments with the kid, not even feeling the heat really. 

 About ten minutes in, Mondo will admit the heat is getting to him a little, a thin sheen of sweat making its way onto his skin, which is more uncomfortable than anything. Ishimaru looks a little woozy, so Mondo taunts that the kid should just give up now. Ishimaru just laughs, saying how he never gives up, ever. Fucking pretentious bastard. 

 After half an hour, he can admit he is feeling kinda uncomfortable, the heat becoming somewhat unpleasant, but he’s still feeling pretty good, all things considered. Ishimaru looks flushed as all hell, though, his cheeks bright red and sweat clinging to his muscles. The kid tells him— unprompted— that he’s doing fine, and Mondo’s brain feels too stupid to allow him to do much else than glare, shit... 

 After around fifty minutes, the kid... he looks fucking awful. Mondo isn’t doing too hot, the uncomfortable feeling spreading to be extremely uncomfortable, but he knows he can handle it. The kid, though... he looks like he’s starting to lose it. Ishimaru mentions absently that he’s starting to feel cold, which honestly concerns Mondo, since he knows that shit is a bad sign, but his head is too stupid to remember why, so he just says it’s prolly not good. The kid doesn’t call it quits, though. 

 Instead, he actually... talks... huh. 

 “Y-you can take off your uniform... if you w-want... I- I won’t judge...” the boy mumbles, sounding super fucking exhausted. Mondo tries to snort, but it’s a lot harder than it should be, shit. 

 “N-nah... I’m... I’m... I’m good,” Mondo finds himself muttering back, looking at the kid intensely, wondering why he isn’t giving up when he so clearly feels sick. Mondo finds himself muttering about how red Ishimaru’s is, likening him to a hot spring monkey, of all things. The kid mumbles back about being born with a red face, which makes no fucking sense, but ya know what? He’s too tired to waste energy on this shit. He’s got a challenge to win. 

 After what he figures is an hour and five minutes, the warning bell rings, telling them they have five minutes until curfew. Mondo figures the hall monitor will end this now, since he wouldn’t dare stay out past curfew and risk breaking one of his ‘precious rules,’ but the kid doesn’t seem to even notice the bell had rung. S-shit... that... that’s not good, is it...? 

 Mondo gets distracted from his stupid as shit concern when a new voice pipes up, shocking Mondo. Huh... he hadn’t realized the kid was still out there. Shit. 

 “U-uh guys? It’s almost curfew, shouldn’t you... stop? I know you both want to prove how big of badasses you are but... don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

 Mondo scowls at the meaning of the words, knowing that he sure as shit ain’t gonna back down first. He’s already so worthless. He’s gotta prove that he can at least do this, of all fucking things.

 “Shut up!” he barks, at the same time Ishimaru does, making him feel fucking wigged out at how they’re both on the same page again. 

 Naegi replies back to them, saying something about it being nighttime, and a tie... it honestly offends Mondo, but before he can reply, the kid is... talking... saying something about how in a true competition, there are no ties. That you either win or you lose, and that... that’s the only thing that matters. It honestly kinda pisses Mondo off, even if he agrees fully, so he fires back how he will push the kid right up to the gates of hell, meaning it fully. 

 He tells Naegi to leave then, knowing that this might drag on a lot longer than he had anticipated. Shit. He knew Ishimaru was fucking stubborn as shit, willing to do absolutely anything to reach his goals, but this... this is just madness. Utter madness. As Naegi leaves, Mondo cannot help how he stares at the hall monitor, who looks so fucking sick right now. He does his best to ignore it, to wait the kid out, but when roughly fifteen more minutes pass and the kid isn’t tapping out, despite looking half dead, he... he can’t help the worry that he feels. And then, when the kid closes his eyes, barely breathing, Mondo... s-shit... 

 “Hey... man... are you... are you okay...? Ya don’t... don’t look so good...” 

 Mondo listens, getting really kinda freaked, when Ishimaru lets out a soft puff of air, almost like he’s trying to laugh but can’t find the energy. He lolls his head over to Mondo, the first movement he’s done in minutes, but his eyes are still closed, which looks so fucking freaky. It takes him far longer than it should to open his eyes, and when he does, they... shit. They look glazed, like the kid isn’t fucking in there, like he... he’s...

 Already dead...

 F-fuck... 

 It really does look like that, though. Eyes glazed, mouth partially open, chest so scarily still... o-oh, shit. Shit, what if he... what if he is dead...?! Y-yeah, he just moved, but he- he looks so still, it... Mondo... 

 But then the kid is speaking, and he sounds so very out of it, but at least he’s alive, thank god... 

 “I- I’m... I’m fine, I...” 

 Oh, shit... no, he... he’s not fine, is he...? Shit... s-shit...

 “Shit... man... no, y’ain’t. I know my... my limits. I’ve got some time... left in me... but you... shit. Just give up, dude. Just... just give... up...” 

 It makes something in Mondo clench when he sees the kid’s face screw up, like he wants to cry but just has no tears left within him. And then he... he’s speaking... 

 “No... n-no, I can’t... I- I can’t... give up... I have to... have to...”

 The kid stops, then, and Mondo feels so fucking confused, his head all stupid because of the heat, making it hard to think. What? He has to... what? 

 “Hafta... what? What... is so important... ta ya?”

 The kid blinks, like he hadn’t expected to be spoken to, before opening his mouth and muttering words. It... it’s like the kid doesn’t even know he’s speaking, the words sounding so fucking slurred and soft. Mondo has to strain to hear them, even though the silence is oppressive between them. 

 “I can’t... give up... must... restore... honor... family... f-family name...” 

 Mondo furrows his eyebrows, his lips turned down in a frown, not... not understanding...

 “Yer family... name? What… what about it?” 

 Ishimaru blinks, like he can barely understand what Mondo is saying, and fuck is that scary... 

 “I must... fix his mistakes. I must... I must bring honor t-to... to our name... my grandfather...”

 Okay, that... that doesn’t make any fucking sense... his grandfather? The fuck? Shit... Ishimaru needs to stop this, he... he’s not making any sense...

 “What? The fuck... the fuck ya talkin’ ‘bout, man? Shit... Ishimaru, yer ‘bout ta... ta fuckin’ pass out... why can’t ya just... just give up, man?” 

 Ishimaru isn’t looking at him anymore and is instead staring blankly at the steam that is billowing around them, looking like he’s not aware where the fuck he is. It makes Mondo’s stomach clench, the concern rising. He... he doesn’t wanna give up, needs to prove himself, but he... Ishimaru... f-fuck... 

 And then... Ishimaru starts talking again...

 “It... it’s all up to me to fix it... t-to make it better... m-make it- it right-! I... I can’t... give up, I... I’m not... not allowed to... give up... giving up is- is wrong... and immoral, and- and I am not wrong! I... I’m not- not immoral... I... I’m better... better than my grandfather... better than myself... better... than...” 

 Okay. Okay. Okay, it’s official. Mondo is fucking freaked the fuck out. What... what does any of that even mean? He... Ishimaru...

 “Fuck, dude, yer- yer scarin’ me... what the hell does… does any a’ that even… even mean? Yer the fuckin’... Ultimate Moral Compass... ‘course yer not- not... immoral...” 

 Ishimaru is shaking now, eyes still glazed, staring at the steam as if it holds the answer to life itself. And fuck... it’s so fucking creepy... 

 “But I am, I am... I’m worthless, I’m nothing... my grandfather... he’d done so many terrible things, had hurt s-so many people... he’d ruined... ruined Japan... e-everyone hated him... hated me... I have to do better... to be better... to fix... my grandfather’s... mistakes...”

 His grandfather? Who the fuck is his grandfather? And why... why does he even matter? Even if he was so fucking terrible, Ishimaru... he ain’t... he...

 “Dude... y’ain’t... ain’t yer grandfather... yer yer own person... an’ frankly... I kinda... kinda like... s-shit. Just... stop this, man. Just admit it. Admit it’s... too much...” 

 The kid shakes his head, and Mondo doesn’t know how he’s able to even hear him, as far fucking gone as he looks, but fuck, he’s clearly responding, ain’t he...? 

 “Nnnn- n-no! I- I... I can’t... can’t admit... weakness... god I’m so... so weak... pathetic... the children, they’re right about me, they’re all so... so right... I’ll never... amount to- to anything... I’m worthless... pathetic... scum...” 

 H-holy shit... Ishimaru he... he can’t fucking believe that... can he? No... n-no, he... he ain’t none of that shit, Mondo is, Mondo is, but not- not Ishimaru! He... he’s fucking... he... 

 “Ishimaru... Ishimaru, stop... s-stop! Y’ain’t... none a’ that is... is true... yer the best... goddamn person I ever... ever met, ya... ya never gave up on me... no matter how horrible I treated ya... ya just... wouldn’t leave... I tried ta make ya leave, why... why wouldn’t ya leave...” 

 He hadn’t meant to ask the question, voice so fucking soft, but he couldn’t help it. It’s been plaguing him for weeks now, wondering why... why Ishimaru bothered staying... why he didn’t just leave his ass... why he didn’t just... give up on him... like everyone always does... 

 “Me... leave? Why? Where would I... go...? I’ve n-never... had a friend... if this is... is friendship... then what else can I... do? I don’t... w-wanna... be...... alone.........”

 Oh... oh, shit... suddenly, so many things make so much fucking sense. Why the kid always seems so fucking nervous and awkward around people, though he tries his damndest to hide it. Why he is always alone, never seen really talking to anyone, not without a reason. Why he always... always does his best to extend olive branches to people, offering to tutor or help or do whatever is needed to... to get them to talk to him... g-god... he never would have thought the kid would have no friends, even though it’s so fucking obvious when Mondo thinks about it. He’s just... he’s just so fucking bright and full of sunshine... Mondo can’t imagine people seeing that and not... not wanting to... 

 It’s right then, in that moment, brain stupid from heat, halfway gone but not fully gone yet, that Mondo... Mondo makes a decision. 

 If they survive this stupid fucking challenge... he... he will be Ishimaru— no, Kiyotaka, his name is- is Kiyotaka... he will be Kiyotaka’s friend... and he will be a fucking good one, the friend that the kid... that he fucking deserves...

 If the kid even wants to be friends with him... 

 “Fuckin’... shit, man. Yer not... alone... I’m here. Ishimaru... Kiyotaka... I’m right... right here...” 

 The kid shakes his head, breath still shallow, but now it’s wavering, shaking... trembling... g-god... fuck...

 “No... no... I’m alone, I’m alone. Everyone... always leaves... my mother... my grandfather... even my father would leave... if he could... he’s never... never understood me. No one... understands me... I don’t... even... understand...... myself..........”

 Oh. Oh. Oh. This... this poor fucking boy... he... s-shit. Shit... this... they gotta fucking stop this... they... 

 “I... I understand ya. Yer... yer like me... ain’t ya? Shit. We gotta... gotta stop this, man... what are ya... tryin’... ta prove?” 

 Kiyotaka is shaking again, looking like he wants to cry but just... can’t. God... god... fucking... god.

 “Everything. Everything. Every… everything… I have to prove them... wrong. I have to prove... that I can do this. If I... if I give up... i-if I let myself give up... then I fail. I fail, I fail, I fail, I fail, I fail. I c-can’t... fail, I can’t... g-give up... or else... what is... the point... of me...?” 

 Point? The point? Why... why does he have to have a point? Shit... he’s so fucking amazing, he... he doesn’t have to have a point... no more than just... just being... 

 “Ain’t gotta... have a point man... ya can just... be. Be... Kiyotaka. What’s so wrong... with that?” 

 The blank look on the kid’s face grows, his voice soft, weak. Trembling, like he doesn’t mean to say it, like he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. Mondo has never heard someone sound so... so... dead before... h-holy shit...

 “Everything. Everything. Everything. E-everything... is wrong with... me... I- I’m too... too much. T-too passionate... too vibrant... I- I hurt... hurt my own eyes... I hate... l-looking at myself... hate... b-being myself... if I could... be someone else... I- I would... gladly...” 

 No. No. No, fucking... no! Ish- Kiyo... Kiyotaka can’t fucking believe that... yeah, he’s so fucking passionate, so fucking bright, but that... that’s not a bad thing... he... he’s so fucking good... so fucking... amazing... and he... Mondo wouldn’t...

 “I wouldn’t. Want that. Yer... fuck. Yer somethin’... somethin’ special... I thought I... I hated that ‘bout you, but... man you... you shine... I don’t deserve... someone as... as wonderful... as you...”

 Kiyotaka is shaking his head again, barely breathing, looking so dead, so very, very... dead...

 Oh, god...

 “I- I’m not... wonderful. I’m not... anything. T-the children... they hated me... t-they all... hated me. My f-father... hates me. My mother... if she could s-see me... now... s-she’d hate me... too. Why... w-why do I bother... trying...? W-why... why don’t I just... g-give up...” 

 N-no... no, no, god, please... no... Mondo feels pressure behind his eyes, and he doesn’t think he has ever felt such pain. Because that... that sounds so goddamn familiar... he always has seen Kiyotaka as so different to him, so much better, so much brighter. But if the kid is to be believed... he... he thinks of himself like... like Mondo thinks of himself, and he... he can’t... can’t fucking stand that thought, oh god... 

 “Kiyo... Kiyota- Taka. Kiyo... Taka. Just... ya don’t hafta... give up... but yer... yer gonna kill yerself if ya... keep this up... s-shit...”

 Mondo feels himself go cold when Kiyotaka responds, sounding half dead, looking so... so nothing... 

 “Kill... myself? No... I’m not- not that weak... not anymore... not... n-not again... but maybe... maybe... m-maybe it would be better. If I weren’t... weren’t...” a pause. “Alive...”

 What?! No... no, no.... nonononononononononono-!!! He... he can’t... he can’t-

 “What?! Dude... no... god... fuckin’... dammit! Ya can’t be... serious... Kiyo... Taka, ya can’t...”

 “I am. I am. I- I am. If I wasn’t... so weak. If I wasn’t... s-so afraid. I know... k-know how to fix it... a-all of it. How to... t-to make it better. My father... would be happier. The children... w-would be happier. And I... I... I’d be... I’d be...”

 A pause. Inhalation of breath. And then... softly, so fucking softly...

 “Dead...” 

 No. No. No, fucking-! No. This... this is so fucking stupid, why is Mondo doing this, he... he has to stop this. This kid ain’t gonna stop, he can’t fucking stop, he won’t stop until he is fucking dead, and Mondo... Mondo can’t... he fucking can’t-

 He can’t lose someone else... not during another fucking challenge that he fucking issued... he just... can’t.

 “Okay. That’s it. This ain’t... fuckin’ worth it. If y’ain’t... gonna quit... then I! I fuckin’... I fuckin’ will. Ya... ya win... Kiyo... Taka... ya... ya win. Now, c’mon, man. Let’s… let’s get outta here.”

 With all the strength he has left, Mondo stands and hobbles over to where Kiyotaka is sitting, looking like a puppet with its strings cut. He’s not moving, barely breathing, and his eyes are so glazed over Mondo doesn’t think he can even see right now. Mondo has never seen someone look so still before, and it scares the ever-loving shit out of him. Especially now that he... he knows that... that the kid has tried... or at least wanted...

 Fuck. 

 Fuck. 

 Fuck.

 But he doesn’t have time to hate himself for issuing this stupid ass challenge. He doesn’t have time to waste. Gathering all his strength, he bends down, and he wraps an arm around Kiyotaka, heart stopping when he feels how boneless he is, not moving at all. But then, as he starts moving towards the door, he feels the kid start to struggle. It’s weak and doesn’t sway Mondo even a second, but fuck does it relieve him. The kid is even able to walk a little, barely. It... it’s good. 

 The second he manages to get the door open, however, the cool air almost torture on his overheated skin, he feels Kiyotaka gasp, all the fragile strength he had gone as his knees buckle, making him deadweight. But Mondo hasn’t spent the majority of his life lifting weights for nothing, so he just adjusts his grip, taking on more of the kid’s weight. He doesn’t lift him, doesn’t have time for that, but he drags him bodily over to the bench, accidentally throwing him on it since he’s not really at a hundred percent himself. He sees the kid start to topple, then, and he immediately moves forward to steady the kid, the skin under his hands far, far too warm. Oh... shit, that’s not... not good, oh fuck...

 “Goddamn shit. Ya look... fuck man. Why didn’t ya just... dammit. Ya need water... I’ll be right back.”

 Mondo stand abruptly then, feeling clumsy and wrong. His chest feels so fucking painful, like it’s being sat on by an elephant, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more concerned for anyone. Well... other than one person... but shit, he can’t think of him, not now. Not now. Not when Kiyotaka needs him. He takes off his duster as he strides forward, tossing it carelessly on a bench, too fucking hot to deal with that shit. He needs to go quick, needs to... to get back to Kiyotaka... and he needs to drink some water himself, fuck, he’s so fucking dehydrated... fuck. 

 However... once he’s at the water cooler, filling up one of the paper cups for himself to drink, he hears the kid muttering again, the words making no goddamn sense, but damn if it doesn’t make his heart clench...

 “...they won’t, they won’t, they won’t... I’m alone, again... all alone... everyone has left... everyone leaves me in the end... why would I expect anything different... why would I expect-“

 Shit. Shit. Shit. Mondo quickly finishes filling the cup and downs it, filling the second one as quickly as possible while the kid rambles on about being alone again. As soon as the cup is full Mondo practically teleports back to the kid’s side, an odd sense in him that he never, ever wants to be anywhere else... 

 “Shit, Kiyotaka, I’m here. I just... had ta drink myself, shit. Now c’mon. Drink this. Please, man. Fer me. I can’t... ya can’t fuckin’ die on me, man... f-fuck...” 

 He carefully places his hand on the back of Kiyotaka’s neck, lifting it gently up, so he can get the kid to drink some water. He knows that the boy is prolly dehydrated as fuck, and he seriously hopes that’s the only thing wrong with him, because if it isn’t... s-shit. He can feel Kiyotaka struggle as he moves him, his lips moving, muttering those fucking words again... 

 “W-why am I so weak, I need to... to be stronger... to be... better...”

 God, is everything this kid says gonna make his heart break? God... he’s not equipped for this, he doesn’t know how to be kind, to be gentle, but after all the shit he has done, all the pain and misery he has needlessly made this wondrous, incredible, sad fucking boy go through... he owes it to him to not only try, but to succeed. 

 Even if it fucking kills him... 

 “Shh... hey, it’s okay. Y’ain’t fuckin’ weak, man, yer goddamn incredible. Now c’mon. Stop fightin’ me. Let me take care a’ you. You... you’ve been so strong fer so long. Let me... let me help you...” 

 With that, he slowly presses the cup against the kid’s lips, and he feels as he struggles, whimpering softly, scared. Shit, he... he prolly has no idea what the fuck is going on, is so fucking disoriented... 

 He begins whispering to the kid then, not knowing what to say, but just... knowing he has to say something, something soothing. He hums softly as he decides to just... let the soft words that he’s been gathering for weeks now out of his heart, telling Kiyotaka that he is there, that he will always be there, promising that he’s not alone, that he’ll never be alone again, that Mondo will take care of him, he promises... he promises... 

 And then he... he says...

 “Open up, Kiyotaka, shit. P-please... I’m beggin’ ya man... just... drink some water...” 

 The kid... Kiyotaka stops struggling then, and finally, finally opens his lips. It’s just a little, a small amount, but it’s enough for a small trickle of water to get passed his dry and cracked lips, which is so fucking relieving. But then... then the kid startles again, a soft sound of distress getting released as he panics, taking too much water too quick. Oh, shit... 

 So fucking scared, not knowing what to do but knowing he has to do something, Mondo lowers the hand holding the cup but doesn’t put it down, moving his other hand to rub soothing circles on the kid’s back, shushing him softly. 

 “Aw, shit. Slowly, man, slowly. That’s it, nice an’ easy... I’m gonna try that again, okay? Go slow this time. Idiot.”

 With that, Mondo moves his hand back to Kiyotaka’s neck and brings the cup back up to his lips, praying that he will drink this time. He’s so fucking dehydrated and if he won’t drink, Mondo is gonna have to call an ambulance or some shit, because he needs liquid, and fast. 

 Luckily, this time when he asks the kid to open up, he does so immediately. And then, when he tips a little of the liquid into his mouth, the kid doesn’t panic and just... sips it. Slowly. Mondo can see his throat working, moving slowly, swallowing the water, and fuck... he’s never felt so relieved in his life, watching the kid drink some fucking water, god... 

 However, then the kid is letting out a sound of desperation, seeming to realize that he is so fucking thirsty or something. He sees the kid’s hands try to come up, wavering so fucking much as they try and force the water down faster, but Mondo stops him, knowing he needs to go slow. 

 “Aw, shit man, stop! Ya gotta go slow. Yer dehydrated, ya can’t drink it too fast... trust me, man. I got you. I won’t let you down. Not again. I… I promise.”

 And he means it. He fucking means it. He has failed this kid so many fucking times, but he won’t this time, and he never will again. Because now he... he knows that this kid fucking matters. He’s always known that, from the minute the kid had run into him and knocked his world on its side, but- but he... he’s always been so afraid of it. Of the feeling. Of what it means. 

 But he’s not afraid of it. Not now. Not... not anymore. He doesn’t know why he feels this way, why this boy matters so fucking much to him, but it just doesn’t matter now, and he refuses to let his goddamn fucking nonsense ruin this shit anymore. This kid has faced some truly horrible fucking things, things that Mondo has barely scratched the surface of but can tell have damaged the kid so fucking much. He has scars all over his chest and back, which Mondo has noticed before, of course he’s noticed them, but now he’s really starting to realize what exactly they mean, and it just... it’s fucking him up inside, and all he wants is to bundle this kid up and never let him get hurt again, keep him safe from all harm, and Mondo has always felt like that, always wanted that, but now, for once...

 He’s not afraid of it. 

 And he won’t back down. 

 Not unless Kiyotaka wants him to...

 (But even then. Even then, Mondo will do everything he can to keep him safe. He won’t stalk the kid, but he will make sure that no one dares to lay a finger on him. He’s firmly under Mondo’s protection now. Nothing will change that. Absolutely nothing.) 

 Knowing that Kiyotaka needs to drink more, so he’s not so weak (physically. He’s so fucking strong emotionally, so fucking strong) anymore, he presses the cup back to the boy’s lips, his heart lurching softly when the kid immediately opens up and drinks, slowly, not even needing Mondo to remind him to go slow and steady. Mondo is so fucking proud of the kid, like a fucking mother hen, but he doesn’t care. This kid deserves all the softness in the world. If there’s one thing Mondo is sure of, it’s that. 

 It doesn’t take long for the cup to run empty, but the kid needs more, so Mondo gets up to refill the cup. But then he’s fucking crying, sad and pitiful, and Mondo immediately returns, holding him close, saying to him, “aw, shit, I’m just getting more water, alright? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

 And when Mondo is forced to leave again— though god does he not want to— he keeps talking. Promising that he’ll be right back, that he’s not leaving, that he will never leave again... promises that he will never break, and not just because he doesn’t break promises, but because he fucking means the shit out of them. More than any promise he’s ever made before. 

 He’s back soon after, bringing two cups with him this time, helping Kiyotaka drink, and drink, and drink. Mondo doesn’t know much about severe dehydration, just knows that it’s important for the person to be given fluids, preferably sports drinks, but since he doesn’t have that shit, water will have to do. If Kiyotaka doesn’t get better after the third cup, Mondo’s gonna try and see if he can take him to the nurse if the lady is still there. If not... shit. He’ll prolly have to call an ambulance, since he doesn’t think Kiyotaka could handle riding on his hog to the hospital, which is at least a ten-minute ride away. He’s hoping he won’t have to do that, though. Hopes that drinking the water will be enough to help him. He also hopes that it’s just dehydration that’s the problem... fuck. 

 The good thing is that Kiyotaka is drinking willingly. And the more he drinks, the more lucid he appears. He still seems very out of it, but about halfway through the third cup, he starts blinking rapidly, like waking himself from a dream. His eyebrows furrow, and he starts looking around a bit. He takes in the bathhouse and even looks down at his chest, like he’s just then noticing that he’s half naked. Mondo allows him to do this, but always makes sure the kid is still drinking, wanting to make sure he gets at least three cups in, since he had to have lost a lot of water while sweating. Mondo himself isn’t feeling too hot and knows he needs to drink more, too, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t ensure that Kiyotaka is okay before doing anything else for himself. 

 Mondo knows the exact second that things slot into place for the kid, since one second he’s loose and pliant in his arms, allowing him to hold his neck and give him the water, and the next he’s sitting ramrod straight, eyes wide. It startles Mondo a bit and he straightens up from the hunch he’d found himself in, so fucking relieved to see some lucidity in those bright red eyes. Fuck, but was that glazed look terrifying... 

 “Oh, shit. Are ya back? Ya really fuckin’ scared me there, dude, the fuck...? I was ‘bout ta take yer ass ta the nurse, consequences be damned. Shit, should I still do that...? Kiyotaka?” 

 The kid is just staring at him, his skin far too pale, his eyes moving back and forth over Mondo’s face as he seems to try to be figuring something out. They then widen somehow further and then-

 “Aw, shit! Fuck, man, what the hell!”

 Mondo stares wide eyed at the kid as he abruptly stands, his body shaking horribly, looking like he just saw a ghost, shit... Mondo is afraid the kid is about to collapse so he stands quickly, hands hovering to ensure he doesn’t fall, but the kid doesn’t seem to notice him. Oh... shit... he’s not better, is he? God fucking dammit...

 “W-w-w-what... w-what... h-h-happened?! I... I didn’t... oh god...” 

 Mondo sees Kiyotaka sway then, looking like he’s about to faint, scaring the absolute shit out of Mondo. Rushing forward, he grabs the kid by his shoulders, holding him upright. Part of him wants to pull him close, to wrap him up and never let him go, but he can tell the kid is super fucking freaked out, and he doesn’t want to make him panic, shit. 

 “What the fuck... aw, shit, y’ain’t better. Okay, that’s it. I’m takin’ ya ta the fuckin’ nurse. Goddamnit...” 

 Mondo tries to move Kiyotaka, then, carefully guiding him over to the door so they can make the stupidly long walk to the nurse’s office, mind racing a mile a minute as he tries to determine if it wouldn’t just be better to call the ambulance now. On one hand, he doubts the nurse is still there, since it’s well after curfew, but on the other... calling for an ambulance means he might have to explain this shit, and he just... shit. But he needs to do right by Kiyotaka, and if that includes getting himself in trouble, he’ll fucking do it. He doesn’t care what happens to him, just as long as this wonderful, incredible boy is safe. Huh...

 As distracted as Mondo is, he doesn’t expect any resistance to his movement, expecting Kiyotaka to be as pliant as he previously had been. As such, when the kid fucking pulls away from him, weak as it is, Mondo isn’t expecting it and thus is unable to keep his grip. And he watches, heart stopping, as the kid slams into the row of lockers, collapsing immediately to the ground with a soft noise of pain. 

 Shit!!!

 “Shit! Kiyotaka, are you fuckin’ alright?! What the hell, man?! Stop bein’ an idiot and let me take ya ta the nurse, fuck!” 

 He doesn’t mean to sound angry or anything, he’s just so fucking scared, needing the kid to cooperate so he can just get better already and not make Mondo worry he’s gonna fucking die or something... but given the way that Kiyotaka glares at him (or tries to glare, Mondo can tell he’s still a little out of it and can’t quite put the usual amount of passion into it), he can tell the kid intends to be difficult, looking at him like he doesn’t want Mondo to come any closer or something. Mondo immediately says, ‘fuck that,’ though, and rushes to the kid’s side, kneeling down, his eyes bleeding with his concern. He watches the kid blink, some more lucidity rising within the red, as he opens his mouth to speak. 

 “W-wait! I don’t... dang it. I don’t need to go to the- t-the nurse! I’m just... confused. Give me... give me a moment to... collect myself!” Kiyotaka says, his chest heaving with the effort of speaking. Mondo looks at him firmly, ensuring the kid means it and that he’s not just saying random, nonsense bullshit again. 

 Once he’s satisfied that the kid is, in fact, lucid enough to make that decision, he nods stiffly, still feeling so very, very concerned. 

 “Alright... shit, fine. If ya say so. But ya gotta drink some more water, alright?! Slowly. I should drink more too, fuck...”

 Mondo stands, then, and walks over to the water cooler again, hands tingling unpleasantly as he leaves Kiyotaka’s side. He quickly fills up two fresh cups of water and hurries back, handing the kid one of the cups as soon as he is by his side. 

 As soon as the kid takes it, Mondo flops down to sit beside him, so close they touch, and begins to drink his water, finding comfort in being able to feel the kid warm against his side. He is honestly thirsty as fuck, wanting to gulp it down again, but he forces himself to go slow, not wanting to be a hypocrite. He notices after a second that Kiyotaka isn’t drinking and is just staring at him blankly, eyes glazing over again, which scares him more than he is willing to say, fuck. 

 “Dude. Drink. Or I’m draggin’ ya ta the nurse, kickin’ an’ screamin’. Don’t think I won’t,” Mondo rumbles, startling the kid out of whatever fugue he’d entered into. The kid glares at him lightly, not nearly as strong as Mondo knows it could be, but at least he doesn’t try and counter him. He just brings the cup to his lips and drinks the cool water slowly, his eyes darting back and forth as he thinks hard about something. They don’t glaze over again, though, so Mondo lets him be and just drinks his water, every cell in his body so fucking aware of the kid sitting directly beside him. It honestly would scare him, how much he cares about this kid, if he’d not already decided to not care about that shit anymore. He cares about the kid. He doesn’t know why, he just does. End of fucking story. 

 Mondo doesn’t know how long they sit there drinking their water, and he doesn’t really care. He usually hates sitting still for so long, his skin crawling to get up and do something already, but strangely... he doesn’t really mind it too much. Sitting here, beside Kiyotaka. It... despite the worry he still feels, there’s also a strange calmness inside him now. Like... like something inside him that had been out of place and broken for years is just... gone, allowing him to breathe easy for the first time. It’s so strange but also... so very, very nice...

 Eventually their cups run empty, and Mondo is about to offer to get them both some more water again when the kid speaks. His voice is low and shaky, but it sounds a lot better and more lucid than it had before, which relieves the shit out of him. But then he comprehends the words, and he...

 “O-Owada... back in... in the, uh, sauna... I didn’t, um. Say anything strange. Did I?” Kiyotaka asks softly, looking very nervous. It concerns Mondo a lot that the kid apparently doesn’t remember what happened in the sauna, but he supposes it makes sense. He had been super fucking outta it... 

 He still takes his time to think about it. He usually just blurts out his words, no thought put into them at all, but this... shit. This matters. And he has to be so fucking careful if he doesn’t want to hurt the kid again. And god, does he not wanna do that... 

 Finally, he figures he’ll go the safe route and figure out what, exactly, the kid does and doesn’t remember. If he remembers nothing, then maybe... maybe it would be better to keep it that way, shit... 

 Ignoring the way his heart clenches at the thought, he sets his face into a carefully neutral expression, revealing nothing as he speaks, voice a low rumble. 

 “That depends. What do ya remember?”

 Mondo watches, heart clenched strangely again, as Kiyotaka bites his lip gently, eyes unfocused as he thinks. They’re not glazed, though, so Mondo thinks he’s just concentrating, not zoning out. After a few moments, the kid glances up at him, expression open and searching. It makes Mondo want to gasp, everything in him swirling, and when the kid speaks, still looking at him, he... h-he... 

 “I’m… I’m not sure. It’s all... fuzzy. I can’t quite tell... what is real or not. I have no idea what I said during that last part, though... just fragments of old memories and thoughts.” Kiyotaka pauses, his hands shaking lightly. He looks away then, down at the ground, and Mondo feels so strangely bereaved... “But I... I remember you... you said... things. About- a-about me. Y-you... you called me... wonderful. Special. H-heh! H-how r-ridiculous! I must... must have been- been hallucinating! Aha!” 

 The kid sounds nervous, frantic, like he’s afraid Mondo will hurt him, like he’s afraid Mondo will laugh at him, will tell him that he... he’s wrong, that Mondo hadn’t said that, that he... he doesn’t believe that...

 Which is bullshit. Because he did say that. And he’d meant it. Means it. Fully and completely. 

 Mondo consciously forces his shoulders to lose the tension that had entered them unbidden at Kiyotaka’s frantic words, sighing softly, a wry smile rising on his lips as he looks at the kid. The kid looks so fucking scared, so desperate, like he doesn’t believe that Mondo had said that shit, but that he wants to believe it. 

 And, shit... even if he hadn’t said it, he sure as shit would say it now. Because Kiyotaka truly is wonderful and special, ain’t he...? 

 Heh... 

 “Nah. That, uh. That happened. You really don’t remember what you said?” he asks as casually as he can, his head tilted in question, hoping he’s hiding the way his heart is racing well enough, but honestly not really caring if he’s not. He... he doesn’t want to keep shit from this kid. Not... not anymore... he watches as Kiyotaka shakes his head weakly, moving his eyes to stare at his hands again. It makes Mondo’s smile widen, eyes soft as silk. Heh. So... so fucking cute...

 “Heh. Makes sense. Ya weren’t exactly all there, ya know. Kept mumblin’ bits a’ nonsense. Could barely make sense a’ ya myself, tell the truth. Somethin’... somethin’ ‘bout yer grandfather. ‘Bout needin’ ta right his wrongs. An’ then there was somethin’ ‘bout other kids? An’ hatred? Ya mentioned how yer da don’t understand ya, how he hates ya, or somethin’. An’ ‘bout how... how ya... ya hate yerself. Which I think is fuckin’ bullshit, ya shouldn’t fuckin’ hate yerself, yer incredible, but whatever. There was a lot a’ other stuff too. ‘Bout not givin’ up, ‘bout havin’ ta prove people wrong. Some other shit, too, but I don’t really ‘member it all, sorry. But... shit man. Is that... is that real? Did ya... did ya really mean alla’ that?” 

 Mondo doesn’t really mean to ask the question, knowing the kid needs to be allowed to rest and relax, not be asked stupid fucking questions, but he can’t help it. He’s not lying when he says he doesn’t quite remember everything. It’s all starting to blur in his head, and while he’s fairly certain he remembers the most of it, some details are starting to slip away, and he just... did the kid really say all that shit, or had he imagined it, too? Shit...

 But then... then, after a moment, Kiyotaka, he... h-he...

 “Aw, shit,” he mutters under his breath, which seems to just make the kid cry harder. It breaks Mondo’s heart so much, hating seeing his tears. God... this kid just always fucking cries around him, doesn’t he...? Shit... shit! H-he didn’t want to make the kid cry! G-god, he... he wants so badly to hold the kid, to keep him safe from the sorrow within him, but would the kid even want that? After everything he’s done, all he’s taken from him, would he actually want to be held in his arms? It’s his fault he’s crying, his fault he’s in this situation, and he doesn’t know if Kiyotaka would want to be anywhere near him, let alone in his arms! But he... he wants so, so badly to... t-to...

 “Please, man, don’t cry, shit, I’m sorry! I... aw, fuck it. Come here.” 

 Mind made up, Mondo darts forward and— carefully as he possibly can— wraps an arm around the kid, pulling him gently to his chest, firm and tight. He can feel the kid struggle against him, and it kills him inside to feel it, especially when the kid starts frantically apologizing, like he thinks Mondo is going to hurt him or something. He thinks it might be best to let him go, to apologize and never touch him again, but he... h-he thinks the problem isn’t that Mondo is hugging him, but that the kid thinks Mondo is upset. So maybe... if he can reassure the kid that it’s okay, that he wants this, maybe... m-maybe he’ll stop struggling so hard... and maybe... m-maybe...

 “Shhh. Shh, c’mon. It’s okay, Kiyotaka. I’m here. Y’ain’t alone. I got you. Ain’t got nothin’ ta ‘pologize fer, ya got it? Yer okay. We’re both okay.” 

 He keeps his arms steady on Kiyotaka, praying to any god that will listen that he’s doing the right thing, that he’s not hurting the kid more, that this is okay, and then... after a minute... after a minute...

 The kid stops. Stops struggling, stops apologizing. His chest is heaving, and his eyes are still leaking tears, but he doesn’t seem distressed at Mondo holding him anymore. At least... Mondo hopes he isn’t. And then... t-then...

 Kiyotaka buries his head in his chest, firm and present, hiding his face. His arms come up too, fists curling into Mondo’s tank top, clutching it like his life depends on it. And then he... he just...

 Lets go.

 The kid is crying so fucking hard, chest heaving, sobs loud and noisy, and fuck, does it hurt. Mondo feels so fucking helpless as he holds the kid, doing all he can to rub soothing circles on his back, whisper soft words in his ear, doing all he can to remember the shit Daiya would say when he was little and he still allowed himself to cry, not yet realizing it was wrong of him to do such a thing. He feels like it’s not enough, never enough, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s never seen the kid cry so hard before. Before he- he would always stifle it, keep it in. 

 Mondo hadn’t realized it at the time, but seeing the kid truly let go now, he can see just how hard he would fight to keep his tears and true sorrow contained, and he feels so much for the boy that he can’t even begin to describe it. It’s like... a sad kind of pride. Like he’s proud the kid was able to keep going despite the sorrow and despair he clearly feels, but also so, so fucking sad that the kid had to do it. That he had to keep this all in, unable to have anyone to share his burden with, to shoulder the pain and anguish he so clearly feels inside. Mondo... M-Mondo knows what that is like, what it’s like to have to always keep everything in, never let it out, and he... he hates that Kiyotaka knows it, too. The pain.  The loneliness. 

 Maybe they really aren’t so different... are they? 

 Fuck... and who knows? Maybe that’s why he’s always cared so much about this kid. He... he just reminds him of him so goddamn much. Of... of the kid he used to be, before he built up walls so high around that child that he’d never see the light of day again. Of the scared little boy that he was, wondering why his parents hated him, why he was never good enough, why he didn’t fucking matter. He’d always been so scared and sad back then, so small and weak. Kinda like Kiyotaka is now, even with how fucking strong he knows this kid to usually be. 

 But...

 But he had Daiya, didn’t he? Even when the whole world was against him, (This sentence was removed due to ~~spoilers~~) he... he always had Daiya. Daiya, who loved him. Daiya, who cared for him. Daiya who raised him, Daiya who taught him, Daiya who sacrificed fucking everything for him. (This sentence was removed due to ~~spoilers~~). It didn’t matter that he was scared, or that he was weak. Daiya loved him regardless, and he always, always kept him safe. 

 Kiyotaka... Kiyotaka never had that... did he? He can’t say for sure, but the kid has never mentioned a sibling, either older or younger, which makes him think he’s an only, no sibs, bro or sis. Which means that he... he didn’t have anyone always on his side. Someone who would protect him no matter what. Or someone that he could protect, no matter what. His da is clearly not that great, if Kiyotaka’s words about him hating him were to go by, and his ma is gone, who knows for how long, or what his relationship was to her when she was around. He... he didn’t have someone to protect him... to keep him safe, from all harm... to... t-to love him...

 Eventually the kid stops crying so hard, the desperate sobs petering out into soft, quiet ones, his breath hitching only slightly every few seconds. And then, a little while later he... he stops sobbing entirely. The tears have run dry, his body has stopped shaking, but he... he doesn’t move away. He just stays there, in Mondo’s arms. 

 Like he belongs there... 

 “Ya feelin’ better?”

 The words are said softly. Gently. He doesn’t wanna spook the kid, knowing how fragile he prolly feels right about now. Mondo gets it. He hasn’t let himself cry fully in years, not even... h-heh. Well. Point is, while he’s not truly cried in years, he remembers how fragile it leaves you feeling afterward. How shaky. 

 And when he sees Kiyotaka’s eyes dart up, looking scared and afraid, Mondo doesn’t tense up. Doesn’t try and hide the openness on his face. He lets the kid see it. The softness. The care. The... the affection, because god, does he feel affection. He lets the kid see it, and he feels the kid settle against him, the fear vanishing, though the lingering sorrow remains. God... how Mondo wishes he could take that away...

 “Yes. I... yes. M-Mondo... t-thank you. I... I’m sorry...”

 Mondo can’t help the way he reaches out at that, hand gently grasping a warm, wet cheek. He realizes absently that that’s the first time the kid has said his name, and god is it making his insides squirm. And he can see the kid look at him with wide, watery eyes, lips open on a soft gasp, looking almost... dazed... shit...

 “Don’t. Thank me. Apologize. Ain’t nothin’, got it? I... I didn’t mind. At all. So, don’t... don’t apologize. It’s alright. You’re... you’re alright.” 

 And he means it. God... does he mean it. It... it had felt nice. So very, very nice. Holding Kiyotaka. Comforting him as he cried, somehow not fucking it up as badly as he’d been fearing. He’s always been so fucking shit at comforting people, feeling like he has to be tough all the time, unable to comfort since tough people aren’t soft and sympathetic. But here, with Kiyotaka... h-he’d been able to be soft. Kind. Gentle. All the things he’s secretly yearned to be for so fucking long, but never was able to, since he doesn’t lead a life that is suited for such things. He always has to be so tough, so strong, but... but with Kiyotaka... with this wondrous, amazing, incredible, beautiful boy...

 He can be soft. 

 And he will never be able to thank Kiyotaka enough for giving him that ability. 

 And when Kiyotaka smiles at him, wide, bright, unrestrained...? Mondo can’t help how he smiles back, wider than he’s ever felt it go before, heart beating so softly and yet meaningfully, feeling so very much for this precious boy. He... he’ll never be able to repay him for this... will he? For what he has given him this day... even if they are never this close again, even if Kiyotaka doesn’t want anything to do with him after this, he’ll never forget what this felt like. What it feels like to be soft. And gentle. And... and kind. 

 But... shit. Shit. 

 Now that they have this... now that he’s tasted this... what happens now? He... he doesn’t wanna... 

 “Shit, man. The fuck we do now? I... I don’t wanna go back ta how it was. I... shit. I was a goddamn monster ta ya these last few weeks... since we met, shit… I... goddamn it,” Mondo mutters, feeling his smile fade as pain fills him, remembering all the shit he has done to this poor, amazing kid. The shit he’s said. The way he’s acted. Kiyotaka gave him so much today, but he hadn’t earned any of it, had he...? He can see the kid shaking his head, looking frantic, like he doesn’t agree, and Mondo can’t help how he glares. Lightly, but it still makes the kid flinch back, proving how much he’s hurt him, and how much he can still, potentially, hurt him. God... he doesn’t wanna ever hurt him... not again… “No, don’t deny it. I was a fuckin’ moron. I just... I ain’t ever... I don’t get you, Kiyotaka. What I feel... when you- you look at me...” 

 And it’s true. He still doesn’t quite get it. What he feels. Why he feels it. It... he thinks he might kinda get it, might kinda realize what this feeling is, why he wants to protect this kid so badly, but it... it doesn’t quite feel like it fits. And he just... he just doesn’t know... but... if not this then... what else? H-heh... 

 Sighing softly, feeling so confused but strangely not angry about it, Mondo allows a wry smile to rise on his lips as he presses closer to the kid, as close as he’s always secretly longed to be, since that first day when he held him but not ever close enough. One of his hands is curled loosely around Kiyotaka’s waist, while his other is still gently cupping his cheek and has been for a little while now. He notices dimly how they are almost bare, Kiyotaka wearing only his underwear while Mondo is in his thin tank top and loose black pants, and he can feel the kid’s heat as it presses against him, oddly intoxicating. Mondo’s hair is down from its pomp, having been knocked loose sometime in the sauna, and it’s been years since someone outside his gang saw him without it up, it makes him feel so naked to have it down, but he... he doesn’t really care. Not when it’s only Kiyotaka who sees it. 

 He... he wants Kiyotaka to see all of him... every last part. 

 Because he... he views the kid like... like a... 

 “It’s like yer my brother or somethin’. Like... my nerdy, dorky little brother. Someone I gotta take care of. Protect. Keep safe, from all harm. I never... shit. I had my brother, but he... he’s gone now. I can’t... I couldn’t protect him, fuck. An’ I… f-fuck. I can’t protect you, either, can I...?  No, I… I can’t... I can’t... a-and why the fuck would you want a fuck-up like me, anyway? You... god, you could do so much better... why would you want someone like me as your brother, s-shit...” 

 The thought stabs Mondo through the heart, the realization that as much as he may want to have this with Kiyotaka, to have a brotherhood with him, they... they likely never will. Because Mondo has messed up too much. Because Mondo ruined their chance before it ever even had the opportunity to live. Because Mondo is so fucking broken and damaged that no one in their right mind would ever want him as a brother. Daiya was forced to have him, and he was so fucking amazing that he chose to love him anyway, but Kiyotaka... he doesn’t have to be stuck with him. He doesn’t owe Mondo anything, anything at all. In fact, Mondo is the one who owes Kiyotaka. So much. So very, very much. Kiyotaka wouldn’t want him. He just... he wouldn’t. 

 And as he feels the kid freeze against him, breath stuttering and harsh, he... he knows he’s right, isn’t he? S-shit... he shouldn’t have said that, shouldn’t have thought himself good enough to deserve such a gift. Kiyotaka, wanting him like that... wanting him at all... while he may have been soft and pliant in his arms a moment ago, seeming like he was at ease, that doesn’t mean it was because of Mondo or anything that Mondo did. He’d been through an emotional time and he’d needed comfort, and Mondo had just been the nearest warm body. Doesn’t mean he trusts Mondo or that he wants anything from him at all. He’d have to be the world’s biggest fool to think Kiyotaka could ever want him, want him at all. 

 And Mondo... he may be a fool, but he ain’t that big of a fool. 

 Heart aching painfully in his chest, Mondo can’t help how he pulls away, not wanting to force Kiyotaka to be near him when he doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t deserve it at all.

 “Shit, I was right, goddamn it, aw shit! J-just forget I said anything, I- fuck!” 

 Mondo hands come up to clutch at his hair, then, the grip tight and painful but he doesn’t care. He wants it to hurt. To ache. It’s what he deserves for fucking this whole thing up, for being so woefully unworthy of being close to such a bright and beautiful boy. Maybe, had he been better— a better person, a good person— he could have been worthy of it. Had he never let his insecurities get in the way, had he just accepted what he felt as true the minute he felt it, not pushed it away in fear, maybe... maybe then, he could have had this. Kiyotaka, as his friend. Kiyotaka, as his brother. 

 But no. No, no. He had pushed it away. Had been afraid of it, so very afraid. Had let his fear turn to anger, like he was so wont to do, and ruined everything before it even began. 

 He deserves all the misery he feels for how stupid he’d been... 

 Mondo gets jolted out of his thoughts when he feels a soft, tentative hand touch him, his eyes wide and manic as he looks at Kiyotaka, who looks so fucking afraid, god. H-he scares the kid so goddamn much, like he scares everyone, because he’s a monster, a senseless beast that only ever hurts people. Breaks people. He’s not allowed nice things, not allowed good things. Not allowed to be gentle, or soft, or kind. He... he’s just not... 

 To his utter shock, he can see Kiyotaka smile at him. It’s soft, and hesitant, and... and beautiful... but it can’t be real. It... the kid is trying to be kind, trying to hide his fear to make Mondo feel better, because he’s so goddamn nice, so fucking good, shit- 

 “N-no! Don’t worry! I was just- not expecting that! But I- I feel- the same. I feel- the same! I would be honored, Mondo Owada, to be considered your brother! I’ve never had a brother, never even had a friend, but I couldn’t imagine a better one than you! Y-you... you’re incredible...” 

 He... he... does he really mean that...? Does he truly... truly wanna be Mondo’s... Mondo’s brother? The kid is so bad at lying, and it hadn’t sounded like he was lying, but... but it... shit. It can’t be true, it can’t... after all the shit Mondo has done, how could the kid ever see him positively, even a little? Mondo isn’t a good brother, he’d always been so shit to Daiya, taking and taking and taking and never giving. He’d taken everything from Daiya, never satisfied with what Daiya gave freely, so he stole the most important thing in the end. 

 H-he’d just steal everything from Kiyotaka too. 

 It’s what he does... 

 “Ya can’t mean that, Kiyotaka... I’m a goddamn mess... and you... you are... shit. You’re goddamn perfect and I’m hot dog shit, ya can’t... y-you can’t...”

 And it’s true. Mondo has more to say, more to confess, but his throat is so thick, and he doesn’t know how to say it. To confess all his crimes to Kiyotaka, to let him know how unworthy he is. He- he hears Kiyotaka take a deep breath, and he doesn’t wanna hear what the kid has to say, doesn’t wanna hear him agree, but then he’s speaking, and his words... t-they... 

 “Mondo... I- I’m not perfect. I... I’m not. B-but that’s okay! I do my best, but so do you! I can see how hard you try and sometimes that’s all that matters! You’re not... dog feces! You... you’re so much more, Mondo...” 

 No... n-no, the kid, he... he doesn’t understand, he just- he doesn’t understand! Mondo, he has to... has to tell him. N-not all of it, he’s not strong enough to confess it all, he’s always been so goddamn weak, but he- he has to... a little. Enough so the kid knows. So he stops feeling pity for him and realizes that he... 

 He’s just not worth it... 

 “No. N-no, I ain’t shit, goddamnit, I...” Mondo has to stop, feeling so fucking conflicted. On one hand he wants to confess, on the other hand he wants to be selfish, and he just... h-he just... 

 But he can’t. Be selfish. Not... not about this. 

 Not with Kiyotaka. 

 With a soft sigh, he feels the tension inside him melt away, his body relaxing with the decision he’s made. All of his emotions— both good and bad— fade away until all he feels inside is... is...

 Cold resignation...

 “I hate myself. Always fuckin’ have. Heh. There, I... I fuckin’ said it. I love the gang, don’t get me wrong. I love bein’ with ‘em, bein’ a part a’ somethin’ bigger than myself. I love leadin’ ‘em, ridin’ my hog, wind in my hair... I fuckin’ love it. Even bein’ here, unable ta lead directly, I still like callin’ the shots from behind the scenes while my second in command implements it an’ shit. Means somethin’, ‘least. But... I dunno. Sometimes I’ll be in the middle ofa fight and I’ll just... wanna stop. Quit. Do somethin’... do somethin’ else fer a change. But I… heh. I can’t. I promised my bro... Daiya, I... I promised him I’d keep the gang together. He built it from scratch an’ I... I can’t leave that. I made a promise, a man’s promise, ta keep us together. So, I... I gotta keep doin’ that. Can’t stop. Ever. Not ‘til the gang is dead an’ shit, all the members movin’ on ta do better shit with their lives. An’ me… heh. Not much use fer me after that, is there?”

 Mondo pauses, and then looks down at his hands, a small, sad smile on his face. 

 “But you? Yer gonna go places, man. Shootin’ fer the moon. Prime fuckin’ Minister, shit, man. Never met anyone with such high goals, really. Never met anyone who wanted ta do that sorta shit, change things from the inside. Heard ya in class, talkin’ ‘bout yer plans an’ shit. Wantin’ ta make the world a better place, havin’ such hope for this garbage planet. Ya... ya’ve got drive. Determination. An’ I know yer gonna do it, ya know. Succeed. More than any a’ the other chucklefucks we go ta school with, ‘least. Yer just so... determined. Got such passion. I... I admire that ‘bout ya, always did.”

 Mondo pauses again, and he… he laughs. It’s sad, and pathetic, and it... he... h-heh...

 “But that… heh. That ain’t me, Kiyo. Ain’t me. I ain’t got plans, ain’t got any fuckin’ clue a’ what I’m gonna do after school ends. They got me takin’ fuckin’ leadership classes an’ shit, but the fuck am I gonna do with that bullshit? I can lead a gang, yeah, but that… heh. That’s ‘bout it, Christ. An’ ya… yer gonna see that one day. And yer gonna leave me. And I’ll be happy fer ya, ‘course I will, but... sh-shit. God... goddamnit...” 

 Mondo doesn’t know where he’s going with this. He doesn’t know what he’s saying or why he’s saying it. His head is so jumbled, so scrambled, and part of him wants to tell Kiyotaka everything. About his parents. About his brother. About what he did, what he stole. He wants to confess so, so badly, to see the hatred and anger and rage on that kid’s face when he realizes how big a piece of shit Mondo really is, horrified that he’d ever felt pity for such a pitiless creature. 

 But...

 He can’t. Can’t do that. He... he can’t burden Kiyotaka with his bullshit. And knowing the kid... he’d still try. To feel pity. To feel sorrow. He- he’s such a good person, so bright and shining. He’s the kind of person who would see a merciless and dangerous monster like him and think there’s something worthwhile in it. It wouldn’t be until his neck is snapped under Mondo’s uncaring hand that he’d realize he was wrong. And maybe... maybe not even then. He’d die, thinking Mondo was better than he was, even if it were Mondo who killed him. 

 God...

 So, he can’t tell the truth. Can’t burden the kid like that. But he... he can’t let him get close. Even if he... he really wants to... 

 “I’ll just hold ya back. Ya don’t want someone like me, Kiyo. Ya don’t want someone like me at all. So... I ‘ppreciate yer words. But it may be best ta leave this here. Ta... ta forget ‘bout this all and just... move on. I’ll leave ya alone and ya won’t hafta-”

 “No!” Mondo hears echo through the room, cutting off his words so thoroughly. It startles the fuck out of him, and he can’t help how he stares, wide-eyed, up at Kiyotaka. It’s weird, looking up to see the kid, but he’s sitting upright, almost standing but not quite, knees firmly planted on the floor. But seeing as how Mondo is crumbled pathetically on the floor, sitting back on his thighs, he has to look up to see Kiyotaka. And he looks... looks so...

 Scared...

 But...

 Not... not of- of... of Mondo...? 

 “Mondo, please! I just... look. I- I try to be perfect, but I... I’m not! And I know you aren’t either! But... but maybe that’s okay! Maybe... m-maybe... maybe we can learn to be not perfect... together? I, ah. I don’t know! A-all I know is... I want to be f-friends with you, Mondo Owada. I don’t care about your flaws; I don’t care that you’re in a gang! I just... I want... w-we can be brothers. If you want... we can be brothers. I want... I would want nothing more than to be your brother! Your kyoudai!” 

 Brothers. Brothers. Kiyotaka wants them to be... brothers...

 It’s too good to be true. Too fucking good to be true. Mondo doesn’t get nice things like this. He doesn’t get soft, kind, gentle things. He gets shit. He gets cruelty. He gets anger and hatred and rage. He gets angry fists and cruel words, and a suspicious look on his back at all fucking times. After all the shit he has done, the people he has hurt, the lives he has ruined, he... he doesn’t deserve... he just doesn’t... 

 But as he sits there, staring up at Kiyotaka with wide eyes and an open mouth, he... he remembers something. Something the kid had said, in the sauna. How he... he never had a friend before. How everyone always hated him. And it could have just been insecurity talking, the kid thinking people hated him when they really didn’t but judging by the scars, he... he would doubt that. 

 He’s never had a friend. He’s never had a brother. Someone to keep him safe. To protect him from all harm. Someone to hold onto, someone to tell him it is alright. That he is alright. He... he hasn’t had that. 

 And Mondo is the worst choice for a brother. He knows it, okay? He’s so fucking awful it’s not funny. But... but he... the kid doesn’t seem to get that. And Mondo is too weak to explain why he shouldn’t want it. And, as such, he... Kiyotaka wants to be friends. Brothers. With him. 

 Mondo is a mess. He messes everything up, ruining everything he touches. He... he doesn’t want to ruin Kiyotaka too. He doesn’t want to hurt him. He... he never...

 But maybe...

 Maybe...

 It’s stupid. God, so fucking stupid. But maybe... if he tries hard, so fucking hard... if he is careful, keeps his anger in check, does all he can, he... maybe he...

 He can be Kiyotaka’s brother...

 And keep him safe...

 It makes him smile. It’s small at first, tentative. Like a stiff wind will blow it away. But as Kiyotaka keeps looking at him steadily, earnestly, he... he feels the smiles strengthen. Feels as it grows wider and wider, until it fills his whole face, his eyes squinting with how wide it is. He’s never felt like this before, so scared and terrified, but also... also... 

 Hopeful.

 “Ya... ya really mean that, Kiyo?” 

 Kiyo. Mondo doesn’t really know why he’s calling the kid that, nicknames aren’t super common in their culture, but somehow, he... he kinda likes it. He doesn’t know if the kid does, he should ask, but before he has the chance to, the kid is nodding. Enthusiastic and bright, a shaky grin on his face. He still seems a little out of it, but god, is he trying... fuck that kid is so amazing...

 “Yes! Of course! I always mean everything I say! I would not lie to you, Mondo, I promise you that! We shall be the best kyoudai! You’ll see! Aha! This is fantastic!”

 Oh, god... this kid is so fucking cute! God... h-he really shouldn’t be thinking that, should push it away like he always pushes stupid ass thoughts like that away, but he... he’s allowed to see his brother as cute... right? Or, well... his little brother. Though... fuck. Is Kiyotaka younger than him? He seems like it, as naive and endlessly optimistic as he is, but fuck, he doesn’t actually know. Mondo is usually one of the youngest in his class, since his birthday is at the end of the year, but he’s always felt decades older than the chucklefucks he goes to school with. Maybe it’s ‘cuz he was forced to grow up so fucking fast in order to survive, shit. 

 But you know what? Whatever. It doesn’t matter if Mondo is older or not. He’s the older brother regardless. That shit is felt, not necessarily determined by birth order. Daiya was his older brother in more ways than just because he was physically older, after all.  

 At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that... that Kiyotaka wants this. Wants... wants Mondo. And Mondo doesn’t deserve it, had never deserved it, but fuck, is he a selfish bastard. But he won’t take this shit for granted. Now that they are brothers, Mondo will go all fucking out. No fucking reservations. They are brothers, now, and Mondo is the big brother. The ani. It’s his duty and obligation to keep Kiyotaka safe from all harm, including (and especially) from Mondo himself. And he won’t. Hurt him. Not now, not ever. If he ever does, he will stab himself in the gut, commit fucking seppuku, he swears he will. He’d rather die than hurt this precious, amazing, incredible boy ever, ever again. 

 And so, Mondo grins, and he laughs, and he lets his arms reach forward and wrap around the kid, like he’s been wanting to do since he ripped himself away the last time. Part of him is afraid the kid won’t want it, or he’ll realize how stupid this whole thing is, but Kiyotaka doesn’t even tense at all as he goes willingly into Mondo’s arms, melting like warm putty against him. Like he... he belongs there...

 S-shit... 

 “Okay. O-okay. Kiyotaka, I... I’ll do my best. I can’t promise ya anythin’, know I’m a goddamn fuck-up who ruins everything, but... but for you? I’ll try. That... that’s all I can offer... heh…” 

 It’s not enough, not nearly enough, but he feels Kiyotaka wrap his arms around him, holding on so very, very tight, and it... it feels...

 Like coming home... 

 “That is all I could ever ask of you, my kyoudai! Y-you’re not a- a screw up! And- and your best is more than enough!”

 Shit. Shit. No one... no one has ever told him that before. That the best he offers is more than enough. It’s never been enough, he’s never been enough. He’s a screw up. The unwanted kid. The person who is good for violence and anger and rage, and that’s about it. 

 But here, being held by this remarkable fucking kid... hearing him say that it’s enough... that he’s enough…

 Maybe he’s inclined to believe him. 

 Wow... just...

 Wow...

 After a minute Mondo pulls back, knowing they need to talk about stuff, knowing he has to make promises, and it makes his heart sing when he feels the kid resist, arms refusing to let go at first. It makes him laugh softly, especially because he fully understands. But he doesn’t intend to go far. Just... he needs to look the kid in the eyes. He... he needs to see those beautiful as sin eyes...

 Pressing his forehead to Kiyotaka’s, soft and gentle and intimate, he can’t help how he smiles, eyes shining with the light he feels inside. And Kiyotaka... he...

 He looks at Mondo like he fucking matters... 

 “I’ll be good. Fer ya... I’ll be good. Promise, Kiyo. And ya can hold me ta that, got it? This is a promise between men. That means I gotta keep it.” 

 The kid looks stunned, eyes glazed but not in a bad way, breath hitched, and it... it makes Mondo feel...

 “Likewise! I- I will do everything I can to be the best brother I can be! I promise! We shall be the best kyoudai in the world! That’s a Kiyotaka Ishimaru guarantee!” 

 The enthusiastic words make Mondo laugh again, and he pulls away to wrap an arm around the kid’s shoulders, ruffling his hair gently like Daiya would always do to him. He notices that the hair is a bit longer than it once had been, and fuck, does he like it. The sweat from the sauna had made all the gel run out and his hair is now soft as it dries, curling lightly around the kid’s ears and it just...

 It’s so beautiful... 

 But ruffling the kid’s hair makes it fall in his eyes, which makes the kid let out an annoyed sound, adorable again, and Mondo can’t help the way he laughs. God, this kid makes him so goddamn happy... he’s never felt this happy before... never...

 “Yer the absolute, goddamn best, kyoudai. Kiyo. Hey, uh... is it okay if I call ya that? Kiyotaka’s just a bit of a mouthful, ‘sall. Ya got any other nicknames I could use?” 

 He looks at the kid at that, Kiyotaka’s (or should he say Kiyo? Does the kid like it? Shit...) mouth pulled down in a thoughtful frown. A moment passes, and then- 

 “A-ah! Kiyo is fine! If you’d like! B-but... well... m-my mother. She called me... Taka. Y-you could use that, as well! If you’d like...” 

 Taka, huh? Taka. Taka. Yeah... yeah, he- he likes it. He likes it a lot! It suits the kid, and while Mondo still does kinda like Kiyo, he might like Taka a bit better. And if the kid wants him to call him that, then shit... who is he to deny him...?

 Smiling, soft and gentle in a way he’s never been able to be before, he nods. 

 “Taka... heh, I like it! Alright, Taka. Mondo ain’t exactly got any good nicknames fer it, but ya can call me that, if ya’d like.”

 Mondo watches as Taka blushes lightly, lips still partially open as he breathes in and out slowly. His eyes are kinda glazed still, but he seems present enough. Just... like he’s thinking of something. Mondo wants to reach out, wants to pull the kid into a hug again, wants to always, always be touching him, but he keeps his distance. Just... just for now. But later... 

 The kid shoots up again, interrupting Mondo’s thoughts, looking so enthusiastic again, eyes bright and smile happy. Holy shit...

 “Oh! I can always call you kyoudai!! That way the whole world will know our manly bond!” 

 It makes Mondo laugh again, harder, and he can’t help how he reaches out to ruffle his hair again, needing to touch him at least a little. Kyoudai, huh? ... yeah. Yeah, he likes that, too. Daiya was always ani to him, the proper name for the big brother, and Daiya usually called him shit like ‘kid’ or whatever, so it’s not like Taka calling him that will bring up any bad memories or shit. It’s just... something for them. Their own, little thing, for them and no one else. 

 Him and Taka. Taka and him. Two... two kyoudai...

 Incredible... 

 “Alright, Taka. If ya’d like. Now, it’s fuckin’ late. I ain’t even gotta look at a clock ta know that. Come on, kyoudai. Let’s get ya ta bed.” 

 Mondo stands, then, realizing how fucking late it is. The kid always gets up stupidly early, he remembers Taka saying that once a little while ago, so he knows they should be heading to bed soon. He feels strangely reluctant to do that, never wanting to part from this beautiful boy, but- but he’s the big brother. He has to keep his little brother safe and healthy, and that includes ensuring he gets a good night’s sleep. Even if it means they have to part ways...

 As Mondo stretches, he sees Taka stand as well, his body flushing bright red as he looks down at himself and seems to notice his state of undress. Like he’d forgotten or something. Mondo hadn’t. Not... not for a single second. Shit... 

 He feels his eyes dart down to the kid’s chest, unbidden, and he feels the small smile die on his lips as he sees the long, jagged looking scar that goes from Taka’s collarbone to the bottom of his sternum, right over his heart. How... how the fuck did he get a scar like that...? It doesn’t look like one that would come from surgery or something, since it’s too jagged, and it also doesn’t look accidental. But... but how the fuck... 

 “How’d ya get that? The... the scar?” Mondo finds himself asking softly before he can stop himself, his hand rising absently to trace the length of it. Fuck, but it feels as jagged as it looks... angry and painful. H-he hopes it doesn’t hurt anymore... 

 “A-ah... that...” Taka mutters, his body flushing. It jolts Mondo out of the fucking fugue he entered, and he removes his hand quickly, feeling embarrassed. S-shit... he shouldn’t have asked that, it ain’t his fucking business. Yeah, they’re kyoudai, but that... that don’t mean he’s earned the right to hear the kid’s dark history. He still has to earn that shit. He knows that.

 “Aw, shit! Taka, ignore me. Y’ain’t gotta talk ‘bout that shit. Uh, shi-shoot, I mean... stuff? Sorry… heh, know ya hate swearin’ an’ sh- stuff. Heh…” 

 Taka blinks at Mondo’s rambling words, which makes him feel strangely nervous. He doesn’t let it take over him, though. Doesn’t let himself get angry. But strangely... the anger he usually feels when embarrassed or nervous just... never showed up in the first place. Huh... 

 He watches, then, heart clenching, as Taka smiles at him, soft and gentle as ever. F-fuck...

 “I... I don’t mind! It’s not exactly a pleasant story, but I trust you, kyoudai! And... I don’t mind you cursing! Much! It... it’s what makes you, you! Just as long as you don’t do it in class or in the halls!”

 He... doesn’t mind him... cursing...???? After all those warnings, all of those detention slips, he truly expects Mondo to believe he doesn’t mind it when Mondo fucking curses? 

 But... huh. He can’t detect a lie in the kid’s words. He looks as earnest as ever, and it just... god. Mondo can’t begin to describe how he feels right now, just that it feels... soft. 

 Taka... Taka makes him feel soft. And fuck, is it not bad... not bad at all... 

 Unsure of what to say, what to do, Mondo just laughs again, since that’s the only thing that even slightly manages to express the softness that he feels inside, and he smiles at the kid gently while nodding. He should feel stupid, ridiculous, but he just... doesn’t. 

 God... 

 He watches then as Taka walks over to the locker he’d used earlier, seeming to want to no longer be partially nude. Mondo doesn’t mind it, has never minded being around naked dudes, but he guesses not everyone can be like that. As the kid dresses, he starts to talk. And the story he tells... 

 “It was one of my middle school bullies. I, er... wasn’t well liked, as a child! They never liked how I would get them in trouble, not to mention... ah. M-my, well. My grandfather,” Taka mutters, voice turning nervous as he talks about his grandfather, glancing at him anxiously. 

 Mondo still isn’t entirely sure what the kid’s deal with his grandfather is, but he can tell it bothers the kid, shit, so he does his best to not look at all judgmental, even though the fact the kid was fucking bullied makes his blood fucking boil... shit. He’d expected it, honestly, but it still fucking angers the fuck out of him, Christ…

 Luckily, it seems his anger at that isn’t too obvious, since the kid continues then, voice less shaky and upset, even though the shit he says... 

 “One day, one of them was... particularly angry. I’d gotten him suspended, you see, for a week. It was his own fault, he was the one who had scratched profanities into the headmaster’s car, I’d just been the one to report it! Still, he was... angry. So, after school, he had his friends hold me down while he cut this into my chest. A reminder, he said, to mind my own business. I think he was going to do more but was interrupted by something. It was most unpleasant!” 

 Holy. Fucking. Shit.

 Holy shit, holy shit!

 What the goddamn shit?!

 Some goddamn motherfucker... carved that shit into Taka’s chest...?! And how the fuck can Taka sound so casual about it?! Mondo has never felt so much rage directed towards someone he’s never met, but holy fucking shit, that goddamn bastard had better hope Mondo never meets him, or else he is fucking dead. The thought that anyone could ever hurt this wonderful boy in such a way is just so... insane to Mondo. How people can see him and not want to keep him safe from all harm is just... he doesn’t get it. Even when he told himself he hated the kid, he couldn’t bear the thought of actually hurting him. Not really. 

 And Taka he... he looks so fucking sad, right now. But also, just... resigned. Like he expects that treatment and, while it sucks, it’s just... life. Which is so much fucking bullshit, holy fucking shit-

 Mondo unintentionally lets out a strangled noise, his anger and rage choking him inside. He sees the kid look up at him and sees panic rise in his face when he sees the anger Mondo so clearly feels. Oh, shit... shit, he’s not mad at Taka, he’s not at all, but he can’t make the anger go away, because... because... 

 “They fuckin’ what?! What the goddamn shit?! Please tell me ya got those fuckers expelled!” 

 He had to have... right? Taka is so gung-ho about rules and shit, he- he must have told on those fuckers and got all of them expelled... r-right? 

 Wrong...

 “A-ah! N-not exactly! I... I never reported them! I rarely ever did, to tell the truth... it wouldn’t have mattered, see! The teachers didn’t like me much either; they only ever believed me if I had proof, and even then, only half the time! And they never much cared when I got hurt... b-but it was okay! I persisted and never let them break me down! My struggles made me stronger! Aha!” 

 W... what? He... he... oh, oh god... n-no... 

 “Y-you... what?” Mondo whispers, his eyebrows furrowed, his hands shaking. He has never felt so horrified before, a terrifying realization overcoming him. Because he... he was right, wasn’t he? This kid... h-he was abused. Horribly so. 

 By literally fucking everyone, holy fucking shit-!

 “I mean... that’s just... how it was? I handled it, though! I never gave up! They... they did not break me!” 

 Oh. Oh. Oh, this... this poor fucking kid... his poor fucking kyoudai, having to go through that nightmare, actually believing that it was just... normal. Just... how it was. But he... he can’t actually... actually believe he deserved it... r-right...?

 “Goddamnit... that’s why ya keep tellin’ me ta... ta punish ya, ain’t it? Taka, please tell me ya don’t actu’ly think ya deserved that shit?” 

 He can’t. He can’t. Please, god, he... he can’t...

 Mondo watches, heart breaking so thoroughly inside his chest, as Taka looks down at his uniform jacket, the only piece of his get up he’s not yet wearing. He’s frowning gently, like he actually has to fucking think about it, oh god, no...

 “I- I... I suppose so... I mean-! I... I don’t know. They all hated me... s-so... they must have had a good reason... r-right? To... to hate me. I... I must have deserved it... right?” 

 No. No. No. Mondo... he can’t fucking handle this shit. So many things make so much sense now, and he has never hated himself more. For not seeing it sooner. For not allowing himself to care about this boy all along. For maybe even reenforcing this goddamn bullshit, making the kid think he is right, when he sure as shit ain’t. He...

 He can’t help how he moves. Swift and quick. He- he just needs to be near the kid, needs to hold him, reassure him that no, he didn’t. Didn’t at all. He needs to do what he should have done weeks ago, in the laundry room, and reassure that kid that no. He doesn’t deserve to be hurt. Not... not ever... 

 He stops, though, when he sees Taka look up at him, terror in his eyes, like he... he thinks Mondo is going to fucking hurt him. He wants to go forward, wants to hold the kid so fucking bad, but he doesn’t have that fucking right, so he stays where he is, all the sorrow he feels surely reflected in his eyes. And as the kid looks at him, he... he relaxes. He still looks upset, but he doesn’t look scared. That... that’s something...

 Right? 

 “No. Fuckin’ no. Y’ain’t deserved any a’ that shit, goddamn, man… and I promise ya, Taka, I’m gonna make sure ya see that one day, even if it takes the rest a’ my goddamn life. And that’s a man’s promise.” 

 And he means it, fuck does he mean it. He had never meant anything more. He will spend the rest of his goddamn life ensuring that this wonderful kid knows how special and amazing he is, and that he never, ever deserves to be hurt. It’s his life’s fucking goal now, the one thing that fucking matters. He will take care of Taka for the rest of his goddamn life, even after the kid finally wises up and leaves his ass. He will watch from the shadows, keeping a careful eye on him, there to keep him safe from all harm. This kid will never know pain again if it’s the last fucking thing Mondo does. He swears. 

 As the kid looks at him, he sees the softest and most beautiful smile he’s ever seen lighting up the boy’s face. His eyes sparkle with it, and he’s looking at Mondo like he’s important again. Like he... like he matters. And Mondo...

 He won’t ruin this shit. He just... he won’t. 

 This matters too goddamn much for him to let it slip away. 

 “T-thank you... thank you, kyoudai. I... thank you.” 

 Mondo smiles gently at the kid, moving forward to tentatively wrap an arm around his shoulder, squeezing gently, needing to touch him but not wanting to overwhelm him, god. 

 “Ain’t gotta thank me, bro. Now, we really should head ta bed. Got school tomorrow an’ I don’t want my bro ta be tired! Come on, kyoudai. Let’s get goin’.” 

 Taka nods quick and puts his jacket on, buttoning it with practiced fingers. The kid turns back to the locker, frowning gently at whatever he sees inside. Mondo watches as the kid reaches out and grabs it, his breath hitching when he sees the kid is holding the glasses case that started this whole fucking mess. He... he honestly had forgotten about that shit, to tell the truth, with all the drama that just occurred. But as he looks at the kid, who is looking so softly at the glasses case, like they’re precious to him, he... he knows he owes the kid for the shit he put him through earlier, for no fucking reason. He can’t quite find it in him to regret what happened, not when it ended up like this, but he... he has to make it up to the kid. All of it. 

 So, quick as a wink, Mondo darts his hand out and carefully takes the case from Taka, ignoring the startled sound the kid makes. He can feel the kid watching him with wide eyes, but he doesn’t let it stop him as he opens the case and— without a single moment’s pause— puts the glasses on his face, blinking at the foreign feel. It... it hasn’t changed his vision much, since this shit is only supposed to help with close up shit, but it... huh. He guesses it ain’t so bad... 

 “Huh... I guess they ain’t that bad... tell me, kyoudai. How do they look?”

 He hadn’t really meant to ask the question, but he just... couldn’t help but remember the shit he’d done the last time he’d worn the glasses and Taka had told him what he thought. He... maybe he wants to show that it’s different, now. That he won’t get angry, not this time. To prove that he will never hurt Taka, never again. Not... not ever again. 

 He watches as the kid flushes bright red, mouth open slightly again, and- and god, is it an attractive look on him... s-shit... and then the kid is smiling shakily, giving a shaky thumbs up, and that’s even... even worse... or better, heh... 

 “You look amazing, kyoudai! They suit you well!” 

 A-amazing, huh? Shit... no one’s ever said he looks amazing before... he’s had a couple of people call him hot, or even sexy once or twice, but never... never amazing...

 He adores it... adores... Taka... 

 It makes him smile again. Soft. Happy. So goddamn happy... he will never be able to repay Taka for the happiness he gives him... not even if he dedicates the rest of his life to trying. Which he will. He... he will...

 But it’s late. So fucking late. They... they need to get to bed...

 Even if Mondo never wants to part from this amazing kid...

 “Ah, cool. I guess. Now, c’mon! Bed! Ain’t gonna be the reason ya can’t focus in class tomorrow, ya nerd!”

 With that, Mondo turns to grab his duster off the bench he’d tossed it on earlier, shrugging it on carefully, before finally exiting the bathhouse, Taka on his heels. 

 Shit...

[xuxishortcake]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : you are an undercover agent, still fairly new at the job & on the search for two notorious con men, who might be part of a gang in the mafia. it's your job to figure out what's going on but oh my, are they more dashing than expected.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : switch!reader sub!jungkook dom!taehyung smut , cursing, forced into s*x , cream pie , fingering , blowjob , double penetration

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3k

hello everyone! this officialy my second fanfic I've written, so pardon if there are any mistakes, grammar errors, etc. feedback is appreciated greatly! hope u love the fic!! ^_^

✧༺🍷༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

you wore a black suit that was nicely tailored to your body. you were driving around in San Francisco because you were assigned to work there for the day. all you knew so far was that you were after two con men who might've been involved in serious Mafia activity. you kept your ears on alert, waiting for more information from your agency. finally, you got an incoming call on your watch.

"hello?"

"hey y/n, it's seulgi. so I've found the house you need to go into, it's in the Presidio Hights neighborhood. I'll send you the full address. " *ding* came in the address & seulgi continued on. "the two men are Korean with the names Jeon Jeongguk & Kim Taeyhung. remember, be careful, we have no idea what these two are capable of, there's evidence pointing to them being in the Seo-bang Faction group."

"don't worry," your replied. " I might be one of the newer agents, but I've been taught well. "

"ok. we're counting on you. we have backup, but it'll take about 10minutes to get to the mansion since we don't want them to discover us. "

"gotcha. I'll call once I'm done." & you hung up the phone.

you pulled out the message with the address, put on your navigation system & started driving towards your destination.

thirty minutes later, you arrived & parked nearby the grand mansion you were to go inside of. you scouted far away with a special type of glasses to find an entry way. there was easy to open windows on the second story & you made your way to the mansion. going through the window, you stepped onto the plush, maroon colored carpet. finally inside, you walked as quietly as you could, your shoes were designed anyways to be as quiet as possible but it was better to be safe than sorry. it was surprisingly quite minimalistic with decor, the decor itself though being very ornate. you looked down the interior balcony. a grand set of marble stairs led up to the second floor & third floor. you started walking up to the third floor, there were some pretty expensive looking paintings leading up. finally reaching to the top, you walked down the long corridor. checking in each room if there were any signs of life. no luck. where in the hell were they? could it have been possible they knew somehow someone was coming & left? the final room you were about to check was the biggest, the master bedroom. the first thing you took notice of was the huge espresso colored canopy bed with a velvety crimson bed spread. there were also a few shelves with gold items & books on them. you looked through them all, to see if there was anything hidden but there was nothing. you checked in the huge bathroom, nothing. just a beautiful & large bathtub & joint sink. puzzled, you sat on top of the bed. you hadn't a clue what to do next. there weren't any new messages from the agency, so the two must've been in the house somewhere. you started to feel a sudden wave of drowsiness wash over you. was it because of the jet lag? no, this isn't normal. it was probably sleeping gas. you were now barely able to keep your eyes open & saw two figures walk into the room. {shit.} you thought, & blacked out.

what seemed to be hours later, you slowly started to regain consciousness. you were calling out to your watch to call your agency & nothing happened. you now realized you were tied to a chair & stripped of gadgets, weaponry & even your own clothes. you started to turn your chair around the room to find if there was anyone around. in came from the corridor & into the bedroom the two men you were supposed to find. they both were nicely tailored, as to be expected but the thing that had caught you off guard was their visuals. the two seemed to be in their twenties & were very, very good looking. they sat down onto a sofa that was across from you, both staring intently into your eyes.

"well," said the one with particularly long eyelashes "are you going to start talking or no? "

"yeah, we're not waiting all day for an answer. " vocalized the other, looking you up & down.

you felt absolutely mortified. not only were these men goddamn gorgeous, but you were only in the pair of black lace underwear that was concealed underneath your suit, which was now in a bundle in the corner of the room.

"I was sent here to investigate the two of you."

"by whomst?" asked the one with the long eyelashes.

you stayed silent. if these men were really part of the Seo-bang Faction group you could never let them know where you worked at, for your whole agency could be in grave danger.

"still not trying to talk hm? bring out the gun, jeongguk."

your eyes widened, trying to maintain a calm face. jeongguk went out of the bedroom. a few seconds later, he came back in with an old fashioned looking pistol, handing it over to taehyung. taehyung cocked the gun.

"now tell me, with WHOM are you working for? " he spoke watching intently.

"I'm not going to tell unless you tell me about yourself first." you retaliated.

"oh well, suit yourself." he pointed the gun & pulled the trigger.

your eyes we're closed shut & you were sweating bullets until you realized that you were still alive.

taehyung was chuckling. "oh my, you should've seen your face then, it was priceless i tell you, priceless."

"are you going to kill me?" you asked, clearly shaken.

"oh trust me, he could have" jeongguk interjected "we already knew someone was coming here, we just wanted to have some fun. there are no bullets in that so there wasn't any way to kill you with it. "

"aren't you concerned I'm trying to report about you two? your members of that gang no? "

"haha, no. I can assure you we are just simple, cunning assholes, who like to do frauds, maybe a few scams here & there, but we're not involved in some huge Mafia group."

"do you expect me to believe you?"

"yes, I guess. after all, what else can you do now that you're stuck here?"

"so...what do you want from me then?" you asked.

"like I told you, fun."

"what do you mean exactly? "

"to put it simple, a real fun, hot fuck. we haven't had one of those in a while. sure, you can get a prostitute & we have no problems getting any person that we want, but this, this is much more interesting. " jeongguk said smirking, crossing his arms.

"if you do it, we'll let you go. "taehyung added, fidgeting with the rings on his fingers.

what the hell were you supposed to do in a situation like this? sure, you had been in difficult situations before, but not like this. this....what were you supposed to tell your agency? you were forced into sleeping with two men who were possibly in the mafia? there had to be another way out of it...

"listen, unless you have super powers & can magically weasel yourself out of very tight rope, there's no other way for you to get out of this. " taehyung said almost as if he could read your mind. "so is it a yes?"

you gave a slow nod.

"hmmm, ok great. well, not that you had much of a choice anyway but I promise you won't regret it. " taehyung stated confidently. "jeongguk, untie her."

& he untied you. rubbing your sore wrists, you looked up at the man who untied you. god, he really was good looking.

"so, what now?" you asked slowly standing up.

"we need to know three things." said jeongguk. "one, are you dominant or a sub, or both? two, what is your safe word? I know technically what we are doing isn't legal, but it's no fun if you're uncomfortable and lastly, three. can you take two cocks at once? "

"I'm a switch, & hell, I bet I could take two. for a safe word...." you looked around "gold."

"ok cool, let's get started then." jeongguk said while pushing you onto the bed.

taehyung stood up from the couch & walked over. the two now standing over your smaller frame, like two foxes staring at their prey hungrily.

"you suck on him." said taehyung pointing at jeongguk. "I'll take care of you."

jeongguk started to unfasten his belt & you, still on the bed turned so you were horizontal,in a dog position. only pants down, you palmed him through his boxers. you finally pulled them down & revealed his half hard on. he was in your hand & you gave a few quick strokes & took him in vigorously. he let out a low groan, you could feel him already growing in your mouth & started to move while you were sucking. he put his hand on your head, keeping you at a steady pace. meanwhile, taehyung was behind you, on the other side of the bed, palming your ass. the feeling of the cold rings on his fingers squeezing your flesh made you gasp. he traced his fingers over to your underwear & pulled them to the side. he ghosted over your slit, collecting some of your wetness onto his fingers. gently, he prodded a finger up your pussy. slowly moving it, in & out & added another one. you moaned, vibrating against jeongguk's cock.

"oh shit, do that again." he said head thrown back a bit, holding onto your head tighter.

taehyung inserted another finger; now three fingers were knuckle deep into you. you could hear how wet you were by the way your pussy was squelching. you had muffled moans for jeongguk kept your mouth full. you had difficulty not crumbling under taehyungs touch, his hands working like magic. he pulled out of you & you whined, desperately clenching around nothing.

"pull out." taehyung said to jungkook while licking off his fingers. jungkook nodded. "y/n was it? go put that brat in his place & do not let him touch you. "

taehyung walked over to a piece of furniture, rummaged around a drawer & came back with a blindfold & handcuffs.

"put these on him." taehyung said as he handed you them.

"aw shit really?? why can't I see?" jeongguk whined, giving a little pout & took off his top.

"because you were having a little too much fun over there. plus, you like being a sub anyways."

jeongguk & you went towards the headboard. you snapped on the handcuffs & tied the blind fold on jeongguk "don't worry," you whispered to him, starting to pull off your panties & bra. "I'll take care of you real good." & it sent shivers down his spine.

you positioned him to your entrance & sank down on him. you both moaned in unison , the stretch feeling incredible. his hips had already starting to move; you bounced up & down on him, hips sometimes twirling. you gave attention to his neck & started to lick & give damp kisses.

taehyung felt his hard on press tightly against his pants & started to undress. he went back to the same drawer from before & he brought out a bottle of lube & got onto the bed. he poured a considerable amount of lube onto his fingers & sat behind you. he took to your neck & started leaving kisses & bites on it, causing you to softly moan.

"do you need to be warmed up? or do you think you can handle me now?" he asked against you, stroking his cock in anticipation.

"I mmm think I can take you." you said, moving yourself a little so you were in an angle that he could get inside of you.

"can I have the blindfold off please? I really want to see this." jeongguk said, hips grinding up into yours.

"ok, take it off of him y /n." & you went & did as he said.

taehyung didn't waste any time, he moved his cock over your unoccupied hole,teasing you for a bit, & finally slid in. you moaned out loud, tears starting to form in your eyes. taehyung felt girthier whereas jeongguk was longer, you felt so full & it was wonderful.

"fuck." taehyung groaned against your ear "you're so damn tight." & started to thrust.

you & jeongguk didn't move as much anymore because you both could feel him thrusting into you. taehyung thought he'd take it up a notch & slapped your ass. you moaned out, surprised & had tightened around jeongguk.

"oh my god, I'm gonna cum." he cried out, thighs starting to shake a little.

"I only want you to come when she does. " taehyung said as he thrusted deeper & deeper into you, slapping your ass harder, winning another lovely moan out from you.

taehyung bent over you now & cupped one hand around your tit & the other snaked down to your clit. between the deep penetration in your pussy, the thrusting in your ass, one of taes hands playing with your nipple & the other rubbing circles on your clit, you felt your climax approaching you.

"oh fuck- I'm about to cum." you moaned out, barely able to stay in position, feeling as if you were about to break.

"go then. you can go now too jeongguk." taehyung said, his own thrusts starting to get sloppier.

you clenched around the both of them, moaning out. jeongguk moaned out right after you, finally releasing, shaking beneath you. which triggered a somewhat chain reaction & made taehyung release right after, filling you up to the brim with cum. the three of you rode it all out together. cum was dripping out your pussy & ass, glistening on both of their cocks. you all were panting on top of each other, taehyung pulled out & went to grab some tissues in the drawer of a night stand. you pulled yourself off of jungkook & unchained his hands from the bed. you flopped in the middle of the bed, chest heaving with probably the most fucked out looking face ever. taehyung cleaned the two of you off & then himself, then slid right next to you, eyes starting to close. 

you had no idea how long you slept for, but you could see that it was still light out. then you remembered you were supposed to let seulgi know if the two were suspicious. "shit!" you exclaimed & hurried out of the bed. you picked up your watch from the corner of the room & frantically searched her number to call her. she picked up.

"hello? y/n are you ok?" seulgi asked with concern. "you were off the radar for hours, we were about to send some people over because we weren't get any responses from you."

"oh, no no I'm fine! I think maybe I went offline since I didn't see any incoming messages until now. " you said as you tried to make up something.

"hmmm, that's odd. did you find out anything? "

"sadly no, there's no evidence of their involvement it seems like."

"well then, I'd suggest you leave. we have another place for you to check out. tell me once you're on the road."

"ok." you replied. "I'll talk to you later on." & you hung up.

you went back to the bed & realized taehyung was gone & jeongguk was awake. "you're leaving already?" he asked, with a tinge of disappointment in his voice. he then reached his into the drawer of the nightstand & pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

"yeah. I need to continue working or they'll think something is suspicious. " you said sliding into your pants.

"awe, that sucks. do you want one by the way?" he asked, lighting a cigarette.

"no thanks, I don't really smoke." you said, collecting all your stuff & putting it onto the bed.

"well, do you want some red wine maybe?"

you paused. "sure." & sat down next to him, taking the glass of wine he had on top of the nightstand.

"by the way, you were amazing. I don't think I've had that much fun in a good while. " he looked at you with his pretty round eyes, releasing a bit of smoke out of his mouth.

"thank you. I don't think I've ever had that much fun before, ever." you replied taking a sip of the wine. "especially with someone rumored to be in the mafia."

"yeah, pretty crazy isn't it? I don't think you expected any of this at all." he smiled. "we need to do this again, if you're up to it."

"I think I would be." giving him a little smirk. "it's not everyday you find two incredibly hot guys willing to be fuck buddies. I might have to fly back to San Francisco just to fuck. "

you heard footsteps approaching the room & finally saw taehyung, standing in the door way in a cream colored robe with a glass of red wine in his hand.

"so, you're finally awake." he said coming into the room. "how was it?"

"I liked it very much. I just told jeongguk I'll fly back to San Francisco just to fuck you guys." you giggled.

taehyung laughed, getting into the bed with you two. " I hope that is true because I'd love to do this again sometime. " wrapping an arm around you.

"definitely. I have to go now though." you said disappointedly. "I'm expected to continue working."

"hmmm, that's a shame." taehyung said sipping his wine. " I need to give you me & jeongguk's number."

"sure." you two exchanged numbers. "well, I've got to go sadly; wish I could stay longer. today was very enjoyable." you said, buttoning up your blazer.

before you walked out, jeongguk called to you "I hope you can come back! " he said, him & taehyung smirking. you smirked back, waved at them & left.

[whenimaunicorn]

Playing House Part 5.2

Vikings College AU, Dom/sub/Dom,  Ivar x Reader, Ubbe x Reader

It’s a broke, submissive college girl’s dream: living for free with your two crushes in exchange for doing all the housework. The Lothbrok boys wanted a “thrall,” and now you’re hoping they’ll notice that you’re game for all kinds of “services.” Ivar seems to know exactly what you’re looking for, but you’ve never met a Dom so mysterious, constantly keeping you off-balance and not sure what to expect next. And then there’s his brother Ubbe, who may not understand the kind of game you’re trying to play here, but makes up for it in raw sexiness and eager desire for you. But will these two strong-willed boys be able to play nice and share you as you live out one of your hottest fantasies with them both?

This fic is so far away from canon that it should be accessible to anyone that can imagine being in college and wanting to be submissive to two hot bros at the same time. 

Catch up: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 (you can also find the whole thing on ao3)

A/N: after an embarrassingly long hiatus, I think I’m ready to finish this fic now. I have all the rest of it planned out, I think there will be 3 more chapters. And if I continue my streak of posting the chapters in part 1 and 2 chunks here on Tumblr, then I guess you have a lot to look forward to!

Also, you might want to review the previous section; what’s included below is pretty much all smut straight through. If you need a little seduction to get back in the mood first, the first half of the chapter is here.

Ubbe’s cock feels so good under your hand. How long had you been dreaming about touching it? How many times has he taunted you with the sight of it, letting you know how you had been affecting him on the most primal of levels. You take the time to savor it now, stroking that tantalizingly wide shaft through the thick fabric of his jeans.

“Do you like that?” Ubbe asks you, voice slow and thick. He’s got one hand on the wheel, one hand on the stick, and he keeps his eyes mostly on the road even as you slide and sculpt around the length of him. Ubbe drives like a speed demon, and apparently he can’t take it easy even with a distraction like you and your willing hand in his car. He shifts gears and tilts the wheel in tight, expert little motions, passing another car he deemed to be driving too slow. You know from driving with him in the past that just about everybody on the road qualifies for that judgment.

“I do,” you answer, with what you hope wasn’t too much self-conscious hesitation.

“Yeah?” Ubbe takes his hand off the shifter just long enough to pop open the button at the top of his fly, angling his hips enough to ease the zipper down. “Want to take a closer look?” He keeps his eyes on the road, letting you stare at the perfect profile of his chiseled face.

You never realized before this moment how much lust and hunger could feel similar. The prospect of getting your hands, and probably your mouth if the streets were dark enough, on Ubbe’s cock is actually making your mouth water right now.

Your fingers dance up to the opening in his fly. Ubbe puts his hand back on the shifter and leans his hips a little further, making more room for you. A heavy breath escapes him as your fingertips dive under the fabric.

The noise makes your submissive soul tingle. You’re quite sure Lauren or Sonya wouldn’t stoop to giving a guy road head before he’d even taken them out on a date, when you’d barely even had time to share more than a few breathless kisses yet, but you like feeling a little bit like a whore. If Ubbe wants this right now, why on earth would you withhold it from him?

You slide your fingertips across his lower belly, seeking the waistband of his boxer briefs. You allow yourself to indulge just a little in tracing your fingers along his skin, playing with the trail of hairs that tempt you lower. Ubbe rumbles an appreciative little sound, though you can almost detect a little whine at the end of it. He wants you to get on with it, doesn’t he.

Your fingers slip under the elastic band and feel down along the warmth of his body. The hairs get thicker and thicker as you go, though you can tell Ubbe keeps them cropped fairly short down here. You make contact with the side of his shaft; he’s angled mostly up and a little bit away from you, and you tickle your fingers up and down the edge of it.

“Fuck,” Ubbe whispers through his teeth; then, without looking away from the road: “are you teasing me right now?”

You give him a cute giggle, and a few more light, quick fingertip strokes. “Maybe.”

His brow crinkles, crookedly, and he glances at you like he can’t quite believe what he just heard. “I thought you were a good girl.” Blood rushes to your face. “Or do you want me to treat you like a bad girl, hm?” Watching you out of the corner of his eye, he reaches behind your head, curling his fingers into your hair, close to the scalp just above your neck. He tugs once, and you moan at the tiny pain.

You accept the reprimand, relishing the way he’s taken control of your head, and push your fingers deeper into his pants. You wrap them around the warm velvet iron of his shaft. The contact feels electric against your palm.

He groans, first tightening his grip on your hair, creating a sharp pain, and then releasing it quickly, as if he had only just realized how hard he was pulling. He scratches your scalp in an appreciative caress as you trace your loosely-cupped fist up and down the length of him. “Fuck.”

There is barely any room to work him while still inside his pants. You’re just pondering whether you should take his dick out, and what’s the best route for that, when Ubbe stops the car at a traffic light. The street isn’t busy, but there is another vehicle waiting alongside yours. Still not as much privacy as you would like.

Ubbe’s hand leaves the shifter, returning to the back of your head and pulling you toward him, his mouth meeting yours halfway for a searing kiss that seems to go on and on. He breaks away as decisively as he went in, shifting gears before you’ve even opened your eyes, barely crossing the intersection before he’s shoving the top of his undies down, letting the full length of his cock spring free.

It’s magnificent in the flashing lights of the passing streetlights. The ruddy head of it looks positively swollen with need, and you lean over his hand on the shifter to wrap your lips around its tip. You flit your tongue, tasting the salt of pre-cum. More evidence of how much he’s been longing for you.

A guttural groan comes out of Ubbe’s throat. It sounds both pleasured and exasperated, and after you give him just one more lick, his arm that’s underneath your bent torso is pushing you up and away. He needs to shift the gearstick. You lift your head to see the oncoming red glow of another traffic signal.

Turns out, there are too many traffic stops on the drive home for you to give Ubbe any proper road head. Every time you lean down to run your tongue around that fat, glorious head, you get in no more than a few licks before he needs room to shift gears again. The whole stick shift thing is suddenly feeling a lot less sexy.

Settling back into your seat, you keep your hand wrapped loosely around his shaft, arm snaked under his and giving him plenty of room to change gears. You’re counting down the minutes with lazy strokes and firm squeezes until he pulls into the parking garage attached to your building.

You can’t help but notice that Ivar’s car is in its assigned parking space as Ubbe backs into his own beside it. He must be inside the apartment. It’s impressive, really, how Ubbe is able to reverse the car so competently between the narrow lines while your fist is still gripping his rock-hard erection. As soon as he’s got the car in ‘park,’ he kills the headlights, but does not turn off the engine. He reaches across to pull you in for a kiss, wild and needy. His mouth plays expertly across your own, sucking and nipping until you’re sure your lips will be swollen.

“Fuck, babydoll, you want it bad, don’t you,” Ubbe groans against your cheek. His mouth assaults your neck again, teeth grazing your skin and tugging at your ear. “Such a dirty little girl, grabbing a guy’s cock when he’s just trying to drive her home.” His kiss claims your mouth again before you can answer. You tug harder and he squares his hips toward you. He breaks away after one last a flourish of his tongue and wraps his hand around the back of your neck, pointing your face toward his straining cock. “Let’s see how far can you fit that down your throat.”

Your pussy clenches on nothing and you moan as you bend down to show him. You’re still not sure if Ubbe has any idea about doing BDSM the “right” way like Ivar does, but his frat boy, bad-porn style of dirty talk is working for you anyway. Your head is spinning at the whirlwind this night has turned into, as you suck his cock deep into your mouth. Not in a bad way, though; you’ve built enough of a relationship with Ubbe over the past weeks to know there’s a caring guy behind this disrespectful façade. It’s safe to let this thing get a little wild.

His cock is thick. It’s hard work to suck him down deeper, and the press of his blunt head at the back of your throat bothers you a little as you strive to show Ubbe just how far you can take him. Judging by his noises, you’re doing well, though, and his hands clench and un-clench in your hair as your head bobs up and down. Like he wants to encourage you but he’s holding himself back from choking you on the damn thing. “Fuck, that’s good, oh, take it deep like that.”

Soon instead of pushing you down, his clutching fingers start pulling you up.

“Get up here, straddle me, I want to see you.”

You kick your heels off quick as you can. Ubbe rips at the seat control and lays it back almost flat, giving you just enough space to plant your knees to either side of his hips on the expensive leather and hover your body over his. Your hands land on his shoulders, keeping you balanced while hunched under the roof, and while your faces are almost close enough to kiss again, Ubbe’s eyes are focused lower.

His palms run up your thighs, greedy, still muttering filthy nothings while pushing your skirt up until you remember you’re not wearing anything underneath it. You make a warning noise and he slows down, sliding around to the sides and then exploring the bottom curve of your ass carefully, reawakening the welts Ivar left there without causing any new damage. His gaze comes back to your face, pupils widening, as his hands cover both your cheeks. Reaching that far lifts his upper body closer to yours but still he doesn’t kiss you. Your skirt’s now shoved up high enough that you know your whole pussy would be visible through the front windows, if anyone were to come walking by. He spreads you further, and you wonder if he’s thinking about that too.

Does he want Ivar to catch you? Does he know you’ll be punished? Or does he not want the interruption, is that the reason that Ubbe’s tracing his fingers between your legs out here, and not taking you inside to his more comfortable bed. The questions blur and scatter as his finger slides along the slick he finds between your inner lips.

“Fuck, dirty girl,” he marvels, “you really like getting treated like this. You’re so fucking wet for me.” But he doesn’t plunge his fingers in like you’re expecting, like he did out on the balcony back at the party. Instead his hands slide up your sides, coming to scoop around your breasts, leaving your skirt rucked up high. “I want your tits out.” He pushes the straps of your tank top and bra down your shoulders, far enough to scoop your breasts out into the thin light of the parking garage’s scattered fluorescents. “That’s my beautiful, slutty little girl. Just imagine if someone came by and saw you like this.”

He slaps you across the side of your ass, lightly, but you’re sensitive enough to jump and moan just from that. His eyes follow the bounce of your breasts, hanging out of your shirt above him. Your clothes are still technically on, but they’re not covering anything important, are they.

“I love the idea of someone else seeing what I got to watch last night,” he murmurs, and then his fingertips are sliding between your slick folds again. “Would you come for me right here, with your pussy pointed right out the windshield?”

You moan in agreement, and his fingers find your clit. He keeps on muttering filthy nothings as he traps it with his fingers and squeezes, then rocks in circles that make your toes curl. His other hand squeezes into your thigh, trying to pull you closer. His lips trace the skin of your neck.

“Fuck. I can’t wait anymore.” The growling edge of his voice sounds ragged and you absolutely believe him on that. You’re feeling it too; his fingertip on your clit is amazing but after all the buildup of the past few days you need so much more than just a little teasing. “Will you ride me?”

You look down at his cock, still springing tall and proud from his open jeans, framed by your knees. You want nothing more than to sink right down onto it. “Do you have a condom?” you somehow remember to ask.

Ubbe grins darkly, and with only a little digging produces one from his pocket.

You pluck it from his fingers. “Let me.”

You’re so conscious of his eyes on your body as you sit up and concentrate on tearing the little packet open. Your bare thighs, your pert and exposed nipples, the teasing glimpse of your pussy that’s surely visible to him under the skirt that’s been pushed up to your hipbones.

Ubbe’s looking like a wet dream himself, reclined underneath you with his shirt riding up over cut abs, a light trail of hair leading down from his navel to the base of his straining cock. His pale eyes are rapt and so hungry he’s almost begging.

But only almost. As you roll the slippery latex over his fat head, a predatory spark blooms across his features. His fingers spasm and you know that as soon as you get this condom situated, you’re all his.

He scoops up your ass with both hands, pulling you closer to line yourself up. “You might be Ivar’s in there,” he murmurs, and there’s no trace of unhappiness in the words, “but right now you’re all mine. Show me. Sink yourself right down on it for me.”

So he does know. And, apparently, is entirely cool with the situation. You tease yourself with the tip of him for a moment, gliding it along your inner folds. With his eyes locking onto yours, Ubbe spits into his fingers and reaches out to coat your entrance, a cocky look on his face like he knows exactly how wide he is and how you’re going to need this to take him all the way in. Then he grasps himself at the base and presses in between your slick folds.

The stretch feels amazing as you sink down onto him. His fat cock fills you up and just keeps coming, inch after delicious inch. When your hips come to rest against his you just stay there for a while, reveling in it, gloriously full.

He bumps his hips, just a little, and you shudder. Even a small movement has a huge effect with a cock like his, making you feel tight and delicate above him. “Not too much for you already, am I princess?” he teases.

“Ho—just hold on,” you gasp, holding onto his shoulder and trying to get a grip so you don’t just drool in his face.

But Ubbe doesn’t want to see you get control of yourself. He wants to see you a panting mess. “Like this?” he says, grasping one of your hips in each hand, squeezing hard and pulling you against him even tighter.

“Ah!” you squeal, but maybe the motion feels better, despite the intensity. You rock against him, taking a shuddering breath in, and find that all that stretch melts into pure pleasure when he’s moving inside you.

“Is that how you like it, babygirl.” He turns his hips up to meet yours, matching your rhythm as he stares up at your face. “You’re taking it so good for me.”

His thrusts start to hit harder, and it becomes more difficult to keep up as wave after wave of pleasure rolls through in his wake.

“Fuck, yeah, this tight little thing. I love to feel you ride me.”

You try and rally, forcing your core muscles to keep moving because that’s what Ubbe wants. Even though his sweet impaling is making your legs feel weak.

“That’s it. Stay up just like that.” His hand has found the back of your neck and he’s coaxing you to sit up as straight as you can inside this car, bouncing over him. “You look amazing. Keep your back straight.”

Every demeaning little instruction just makes you wetter, your core burning and stretching around his fat hog with each pornographic phrase that comes out of his mouth.

“God, your pussy’s tight. I want to feel you cum all over my dick.”

He brings his hand between your bodies, finding your clit and batting a rapid, back-and-forth rhythm across it.

“Just stay up—keep sitting up high and pretty for me so I can watch you cum.”

It doesn’t take long, not with the string of filthy words that keep coming out of his mouth, not with his expert finger on your clit and the staccato bounce of his cock buried to the hilt inside you. You press your lips together so that you don’t wail as you come to pieces all around him.

As soon as you gasp in your next breath, Ubbe’s grabbing your hips again, taking over all the movements and not giving you even a moment’s rest after your peak. He fucks up into you, fast and hard and with more force than you thought one could accomplish from the driver’s seat of a tiny sports car. You bury your face in your shoulder to stop from yelping, hands clutching at his shoulders as he groans and drives himself on. “Fuck—yeah. Fuck—yeah.”

He’s hollowing you out. The aftershocks of your orgasm feel like little climaxes of their own, given that Ubbe is still bucking up into you for all that he’s worth. You’re panting, gasping into his ear and you can’t decide if you need him to finish right the fuck now, or if you want this to go on forever.

His whole body strains, and a long, wrecked sound pushes between his teeth and against your ear. He holds you to him tight, shuddering through wave after wave of his evidently spectacular finish. “Oh,” he finally pants, with a concluding-style tone, “fuck. Yeah.” His arms wrap you up tight as his entire body relaxes underneath you. “Wow, Y/N. Just, wow.”

You’re floating. Shimmering high above the clouds, luxurious and electrified both at once. You nuzzle into Ubbe’s neck and he shifts to make room for you there, inviting the post-coital snuggle.

Except, absolutely nothing else about your current position is comfortable. As your consciousness comes back down to earth, your knees are screaming and your ass feels way too conspicuously bare up here in the front seat. The steering wheel is likely not providing it much cover. You shift, and Ubbe nuzzles your cheek before letting you go. He holds the bottom of the condom down as you disengage and swing yourself back as gracefully as you can into the passenger seat.

Ubbe tilts his own seat high enough to be even with yours again. He rolls his face toward you, peaceful and present. As soon as you’ve got your shirt covering your chest again, he’s reaching out to take your hand.

“You’re really ok with this.” It’s not really a question, though he’s looking at you like he wants a response. “Both of us.”

Warmth blooms through your body as you continue to straighten your clothes. “I’m the one that should be surprised, that you’re cool with it.”

Ubbe smiles, a little darkly. “Ivar and I, we’ve got a way that we work things out. When we both want the same thing.” His thumb is playing idly with the side of your finger.

“I think I’m gathering that.”

You’re still settling your skirt back into its correct place when you hear the stairwell door swing open. The sound of Ivar’s crutches on the concrete confirm the nervous thrill that runs through you at the noise; you look down at your fingers entwined between Ubbe’s. Does this count as “his hands on you?” You glance up to meet Ubbe’s eyes nervously. He squeezes once and then lets go with a soft, conspiratory smile.

You smooth your skirt one last time and try not to look too suspicious as Ivar comes past Ubbe’s car on the way to his own.

His face lights up when he catches your eye through the glass. “Y/N, I was hoping you would be back soon!” He nods to his brother. “So kind of Ubbe to drive you home.”

Ubbe nods with a grunt that only sounds a little bit annoyed. There is a bit of smugness to Ivar’s smile.

“Forgot my phone,” Ivar says, holding it up after rummaging through his car. “Let’s go inside, shall we? I was just about to start a movie.”

 It’s too difficult to concentrate on the film he wants to show you. You’d rather think about how good it feels to be tucked under Ivar’s arm, snuggled up in the dark, even if it is a little odd that the guy that just fucked your brains out is now the one back in his bed sleeping alone.

Ivar’s fingers are dancing over your limbs, slowly, intermittently, as you pretend you’re paying attention to the movie. There’s nothing urgent about it; his fingertips just seem to like to explore.

He tickles at the base of your hairline, rolls his face into the crook of your neck. How are you supposed to think about anything but that? If he starts kissing you, you’re just going to turn off the movie.

“You’re lucky that you had your clothes back on,” Ivar murmurs in your ear. His fingers keep playing idly with your hair. “I came so close to catching you.”

You emit a sort of small animal noise. You know you didn’t violate any of his instructions today, but you still feel deliciously trapped.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asks, tone even, and a little bit amused.

“Mhm,” you answer in a small voice.

He nips at the edge of your ear. “Did he make you cum?”

Somehow the question sends heat flooding between your legs all over again. You’re not sure if it’s the right answer, but you nod ‘yes.’

Ivar’s fingers dig in for a moment. “Good.” Then they go back to drawing little circles all over your skin. “Tight space in that car,” he murmurs. “Were you riding him?”

Does Ivar like thinking about this as much as you do? Or is all of this some kind of trap. “Uh huh.”

Get up here, on my lap.” He pulls on your leg, setting you up to straddle him. “Let me look at you.”

You spread your legs for the second time tonight, bridging Ivar’s lap and grateful that the couch is soft enough under your overworked knees. Your pussy is already throbbing. Or did it never stop throbbing since Ubbe so thoroughly beat it up?

Ivar looks up at you, perfectly pleased by everything he sees. “Do you know how obvious it is when you’re aroused?”

You try to stop your face from flushing.

“I can tell so easily. Your lips part”—he reaches up, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip, peeling it down a little further—“your lashes get heavy, but your eyes sharpen.” His fingers trail down your collarbone. “Your skin somehow glows.”

He has to be making half of that up, but it sounds good. You put your hands on his shoulders.

“Don’t touch me, touch yourself.”

You bring your hands to your breasts, a little awkward. You wish he would let you admire his body too. Maybe you’ll ask him for that later.

He leans in, saying the next words a little lower. “You like the idea that we are both going to use you now, whenever and however we want.”

His words make you moan in agreement, and you scoop up your tits and nod.

“Our little thrall.” Affection and possessiveness drip in equal measure from his lips. “You wanted it as much as I did. I could tell, when I said it that day. You started to glow then, too.”

His fingers dance over your thighs, but he does not try to push up under your skirt.

“Tell me how much you love to be at our disposal.”

You purr for him, a little embarrassed but more than turned on enough to say some dirty things for him. “I’m all yours.” You rock your hips gently against him, mindful not to put too much pressure on his legs, and “I love letting you… have me, any part of me you want.”

“Whenever I want.”

“Whenever you want.”

“No matter how many times you’ve already come today.”

You definitely feel a flush after that one. Ivar’s hands trace up your waist, then catch at your wrists and push your hands down your body.

“Touch yourself for me now.”

You arch your back and sneak your hand into the waistband of the skirt, happy to ease the ache that’s been growing between your legs. You go right to your favorite spot, closing your eyes and making soft sounds of delight for him.

Ivar’s fingers dig into your thighs. The pain only heightens your excitement. “I almost feel sorry for you. Ubbe’s an animal, you know. Now that you’re ours he’s going to grab you every time he needs to nut and my God, that guy usually whacks it several times a day.” Although you may not be sure what, exactly Ivar gets out of telling you this, the thought is certainly sending your own arousal skyrocketing. “But then, no matter how he uses you, then”—he whacks your bottom swiftly, reactivating the bruises he left there last night—“you will always, always be ready for me.” He grabs at your wrist, making sure you’re still going, still working yourself as eagerly as he wants. “Even right afterwards. Won’t you.”

You hum and nod and press yourself even faster.

“Show me,” he urges, face dark and rapt as he stares up at your writhing passion. “Show me how your body can be so fucked out and still so absolutely ready for me.”

You moan and spread your legs wider, bringing yourself close to the edge but not wanting the moment to be over just yet. You try to keep your eyes open, staring at the way Ivar’s pupils have gone so wide there’s barely any blue, the way he licks his lips as he looks down the line of your body.

One of his hands finally slides underneath your skirt. His fingers climb quickly, his target clear when he runs one fingertip up and down your pussy. His growl is a deeply pleased noise. “So wet. That’s good, you’ll need it.” He presses more firmly; your swollen lips are tender from fitting all of Ubbe in and you jump. Ivar’s other hand is at the small of your back, catching you, holding you down.

Somehow the invasion of that one finger is as powerful to your system as Ubbe’s entire cock. Maybe it’s the way that Ivar’s gorgeous face is smirking up at you, or the sting still echoing through your abused backside, but all he has to do is press that one finger up and into you and suddenly your body is clamping down and spasming an unexpected release all around it.

You moan and writhe and keep working your own clit as the moment stretches on; you hadn’t planned to come so fast but you’re certainly going to make the most out of it. Judging by the praise Ivar’s murmuring up at you as you ride the waves of climax, you’re giving him exactly what he wanted.

When you’ve thoroughly exhausted your second fantastic orgasm of the day, you try and slump comfortably against your lover. “Stay up,” he orders instead. “Keep your back straight, I’m not done looking.”

And so you sit up straight above him, closing your eyes and letting only your head sag a little as you try and catch your breath coming down. Ivar makes it difficult by wiggling that finger inside you several times more, making pleased noises at the way you shudder and struggle to deal with the overstimulation.

“So gorgeous,” he whispers. Then he finally withdraws his finger, and draws you down to snuggle against his chest.

His hands spread wide and happy across your back. “Sorry I came so fast,” you feel compelled to say.

“Are you kidding? What better compliment could there be. You can’t control yourself around me.”

You both smile.

“I know you will always have more for me.” He pulls you down to settle into the couch beside him, grabbing a blanket to spread over the two of you. “I really do want to show you this movie, though.” He lifts the remote and presses rewind. “No more distractions now.”

On to Chapter 6

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[illfoandillfie]

So second time lucky 😅 can I request a continuation of the 'fight me you attractive stranger' blurb, that one is soo good i love how you wrote roger in it leaving her all flustered 😆 maybe we'll find out if she went to the stall and if they had that 'wrestle' after all 👀😂 only if you would want to of course! 😁💕

here you go darl! This was a fun one to write - I love the competitive energy these two have lmao

warnings: smut, a bit of biting, dom!rog, edging/denial, fingering

Fight Me blurb

Blurb Advent: Day 17 

Truth be told, you hadn’t expected the coat to be real. As Freddie had promised, Roger called that evening, his voice somehow more rough and enticing over the phone, to tell you the coat was available if you’d like to claim it.

“Uh, yes, I would like it. Been thinking about it all day. When’s the stall next open so I can come by and pick it up?”

“Well, normally I’d tell you to come by on Saturday but, seeing as you know what you want, I think I can make an exception this time. If you’d like it a bit sooner than the weekend, you could come by my place.”

It smelt a little fishy to you. Inviting you to his place for a coat you couldn’t guarantee existed. You really should just tell him to fuck off. But…what if the coat was there? You didn’t want to lose it after you’d given up the other one to Roger. Besides, if you went in suspicious of him and his pretty face, then he wasn’t going to be able to pull the wool over your eyes. So you agreed and took down his address, promising to be there in a few hours.

 You took a little while to get ready, maybe making more effort with your appearance than was strictly necessary. But, if you were being completely honest, he’d been in your head all day and you wanted to leave him with the same impression. Changing your underwear to the matching set might have been a bit far since he wouldn’t see it, but you could justify it. It was your favourite set and made you feel more confident which could only help, especially if your suspicions were correct and he was just trying to have it on with you. You were glad you’d made the extra effort when you got to his place though. Roger opened the door, still dressed in the same jeans and shirt you’d first seen him in. He held a bottle of beer in one hand which he waved absentmindedly as he invited you in and offered you a drink too.

“No, I’m right thanks.”

“Suit yourself. Sorry about the mess,” he gestured vaguely around the living room as he lead you through it and you saw a collection of text books and pages of notes strewn about the carpet though they took up less space than the drumkit that had been set up by the wall, “been studying for an exam and it’s doing my head in. Glad you’re here so I can have a bit of a break.”

“So, is, um, is Freddie here?” “Nah, he’s not in tonight, he’s at a mate’s place so they can work on an assignment together or something.”

“So, where is it then? This coat?” you were sick of the small talk.

“Right, the coat. It’s in my bedroom, just this way.” Roger led you on, talking over his shoulder, “we keep most of the stock in there cause it’s the biggest room in the flat.”

You nodded along though you were sure your suspicions were about to be confirmed.

Roger stepped towards a rack as you hovered in the doorway, but when he turned there really was a fur coat clutched between his hands. “Here you are then. If you wanna try it on there’s a mirror in the corner. It’s in pretty good nick. There is a button missing but that’s easy enough to fix if you want. Its also not going to matter too much if you don’t. Otherwise it’s as good as new really.”

As Roger spoke, you put the coat on, surprised not only that it was real but also that it was so nice. It fit well, and felt warm and soft.

“So, is it up to scratch or are you going to want that fight after all?” You shook your head, “It’s perfect, I’ll take it.”

“Excellent. Saves me having to lug it around on the weekend. Anything else you want to look at while you’re here? I’m sure I’ve got something to tempt you.”

You ignored the suggestive tone and shook your head, “Think the coat will do me.”

Roger nodded and gave you the price, watching as you counted it out and handed it over.

 You felt odd once the transaction was complete. Nothing had gone quite how you’d expected it to. The coat had been legitimate and aside from one or two suggestive comments Roger hadn’t been at all like how he was at the boutique. You’d gone in expecting an argument or at least for him to make a proper pass at you. Perhaps that was why, taking another look in the mirror, you said, “Freddie was right, it’s much nicer than the one I let you have,”

“Oh you let me have it did you?” Roger snorted, “Sure, okay.”

“Well what would you have called it?”

“I’d say you were conned.”

“What?” you whipped around to look at him, “Conned into giving you the better coat? I don’t think so.”

“Oh no, that coat is lovely and you should be very happy with your purchase. I wouldn’t sell you garbage after we promised you something nice. But for all you knew we were spinning shit. The coat might very well have never existed, the whole story of the market stall might have been bullshit. But you just believed it and let me take the coat in the store from you and then gave your number to two strangers. Bit stupid really.”

“I’ll have you know I suspected it was all fake.”

“Oh, okay. So that’s why you came over here. For a coat you didn’t think was real.”

“I was giving you the benefit of the doubt. It’s called having faith.”

“Mmhmm, sure. Unless you were looking for something else,”

You couldn’t believe how quickly he’d got you on the back foot, your mind scrambling to think of something clever to say, “Like what?”

“Perhaps that wrestle I promised you. What was it you said before…fight me you attractive stranger?”

You gaped at Roger, mouth opening and closing as you tried to come up with something to say.

“I suspect you’ve been thinking about that all day. Wondering what it’s be like to pinned by me. Nothing to say? I expected more from someone who was so sure she could have me begging.”

“I could,” you finally managed to get out, taking a step towards him, “I was just surprised you remembered what I’d said.”

“Well maybe you weren’t the only one thinking about it.”

“You were?”

“All fucking day. You really got under my skin you know?”

You shrugged off the coat, letting it hit the floor, “Good. Should make it easier to take you when you’re so distracted.”

“Oh you’ll take me well enough I’m sure” Roger growled, stepping towards you as he pulled off his shirt, “but you’ll have to beg for it first.”

“Never gonna happen,” your shirt joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor and your pants were quick to follow.

“You’ve been pretty mouthy so far, so we’ll see. Did you wear those just for me?” he asked, indicating your underwear as he finally put his hands on you, squeezing your waist as he pulled you in close.

You didn’t answer, just pulled him into a kiss. It was rough, leaving you both with bitten lips and panting breath as each of you tried to take the lead. Roger pulled you back towards the bed though you pushed him down onto it first, straddling his lap as you kissed him again.  He reached behind you to unclasp your bra and you broke the kiss to sit up and pull it off your arms. As soon as it was out of the way Roger grasped your wrists and flipped you onto your back.

“Told you I was stronger than I look.” He winked, readjusting so he was holding your wrists above your head with one hand, his other sliding down your body. He grasped your breasts and then continued his path down, cupping your pussy over your underwear.

You wriggled trying to free yourself or force his hand harder against your core.

Roger laughed, “What happened love? Thought you said you’d be able to get on top?”

You groaned, his condescending tone only turning you on more.

Slowly he dragged his hand over the front of your knickers, rubbing you, his middle finger pressing between your lips.

Without meaning to you bucked your hips up as much as you could, trying to get more friction.

Roger took the hint, pulling your underwear down to your knees to he could touch you properly, grinning when you whined at his touch, “Feels good doesn’t it?”

“Bite me,”

“That can be arranged, love, especially if it makes you wetter.”

You groaned as he leaned forward, keeping his eyes locked on yours until the last second, and attached his lips to your breast. You felt his teeth press into you slowly, the bite getting harder and harder as you gasped and arched your back towards him. When he pulled back he admired his work, letting go of your wrists to trace the mark with a finger.

You tried to take advantage of your newly freed limbs, to flip things around and get on top of him instead, but he chose that moment to sink two fingers into you, his other hand pressing down on your hip to keep you in place.

“Nice try, love,” he cooed, “But I haven’t heard you beg yet.”

“Not gon-na happen,” you said lowly, your breath coming harder as he stretched you open with his fingers.

“Okay,” his tone made it very clear he didn’t believe you and you had to admit your conviction was wavering. His fingers pumping into you felt good but it wasn’t enough. Every so often he would brush you clit, just to prove he knew it was there and show he was intentionally avoiding it. Instead he focused on fingering you, pressing two and then three fingers into you, speeding up their rhythm and then slowing it down when you moaned too much. You could feel the orgasm building but he kept it just out of reach, whispering at you to beg for him. Internally you fought with yourself, your stubborn desire to prove him wrong or at least make it hard for him arguing with your desperate need for release.

“I can do this all night, love.” He said softly as you whimpered, “I know you think I’ll give in and just fuck you but I wont. I don’t need your cunt. And I won’t take it until you ask me to.”

You shook your head.

“It’s true. I can keep you here like this for as long as it takes.”

“You’ll want to cum too,” you gasped as he circled your clit and then stopped again.

“True. But I don’t mind using my hand for that. I’ll just do it over you. Keep my fingers in your tight little cunt while I wank myself off over your stomach. As many times as it takes. And if I were you, I’d give in and beg now, before that happens. If you wait too long I’ll be spent and I’ll just have to keep going like this until I’m ready again.”

That was enough for you, “Fuck okay, okay, you win, just please fuck me.”

“You mean it?”

“Yes, please, I need it so bad, I need you so bad.”

“Good girl,”

You whined as he removed his fingers to get rid of his own underwear before immediately sheathing himself inside you. You moaned as he finally fucked you right, his thumb rubbing you clit in constant circles, no longer teasing you with tantalising moments of contact. You came quickly, having danced around the edge for so long but Roger didn’t stop.

“I think you can do another, can’t you?”

You just nodded, willing to let him have whatever he wanted now that you’d already given in.

He leaned forward and kissed you again, no where near as harsh as the first kiss had been. You moaned into his mouth as he kept fucking you, a constant deep pressure that just pushed you towards the edge once again.

“I’m close are you close?” he asked eventually, the words forced out between breaths and groans.

“Mmhmm,” you nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as you willed yourself to finish.

Thankfully it didn’t take much longer, Roger’s fingers still steady on your clit as he encouraged you to cum, and you found yourself moaning his name as your orgasm hit. He pulled out once you’d calmed and pumped his fist over his slick cock until he came too, coating your stomach though you couldn’t find the energy to care too much.

“Worth it?” he panted as he collapsed beside you.

“Yeah,” you said, equally as breathless, “but I’ll want a rematch later.”

[closedafterdark]

Author-Nim if request are open may I request a scenario where mommy Irene takes you as a plus one to a party. Irene had to go somewhere and she left you alone. Suddenly, Jennie walks up to you and starts flirting with you and she ends up touching your crotch. Next thing you know Irene comes from behind and whispers in your ear “I bet you think your acting real cute letting Jennie put her hands over you” she takes you outside and fucks you in front of Jennie

Tonight is the annual celebration dinner for Red Velvet Company. An entire hotel was rented out, much to the annoyance of customers who booked hotel rooms in advance. A sea of upper high class people filled the ballroom, drinking rather expensive wine and talking about golf.

You sighed, standing next to the h’dourves table as you sipped the terrible tasting wine. You felt out of place, black suit and tie dinners were never your forte. Not to mention you were only a guest here, a plus one to your girlfriend and CEO of the company, Bae Joohyun.

“Why the sad face?”

The lovingly soft voice causes you to turn around. You smiled as you saw your girlfriend standing before you. She wore a beautiful red, strapless dress that complimented her milky white skin. Her hair was neatly parted in the middle, not a single bang on her forehead out of place. You were always mesmerized by how beautiful she looked, often times feeling inferior to the beauty that called you her own. She smiled as she saw you admiring her and gives you a soft kiss on the lips.

“Mind telling me why my loving boyfriend is standing next to appetizers by himself?” Joohyun softly asks. She was never one to raise her voice when it was just the two of you.

“I’m sorry, honey. You know I’m never good with these kinds of things” you said.

“I understand. To tell you the truth, I don’t really care for them either” she said, pouting at you. “I’m sorry I had to drag you along to this”

“Babe, don’t be sorry. If anything it should be me who’s apologizing. I’m bringing down the whole mood”

Her large glassy orbs shined brightly, staring at you as her beautiful smile melted all of your troubles away. You both stared at each other, as you bring her hand and caress her cheek softly, pinching it. She laughs and licks her lips, planting her extremely soft lips against yours. The two of you don’t care that it was a public area, exchanging in a passionate and tender kiss. Joohyun moans as your hands caress her exposed back and make their way down to her extremely soft bottom. She pulls you even closer, her tiny right hand making a fist as she hits your chest for caressing her ass while you two were in public.

You both pull away from each other after several minutes, smiling as you push your forehead onto hers softly. Both of you try to catch your breath as you look lovingly into each other’s eyes.

“I love you” Joohyun said.

“I love you too, wife” you replied. You recently started calling Joohyun that, causing her to always giggle as she felt so loved by you. You gave her several more kisses before squeezing her butt softly once more.

She hit your chest as she asked for one more kiss and told you she was going to go to the restroom to freshen up.

You smiled, watching her walk away as her cute butt could be seen through her dress.

“Quite the show you put on just now”

You turned around and saw a woman slightly taller than Joohyun looking at you, her cat eyes seductively alluring. She had nice hips and equally nicer thighs, her outfit a bit more revealing than what others wore. You were happy to see someone else who was familiar to you.

“Hi, Jen. What’s up?”

“Joohyun’s pretty hot” she said, approaching you slowly. “But what’s such a handsome guy like you doing with an old hag like her”

“That’s not cool to talk about my girlfriend that way, Jen”

“I’m just saying” she said as she grabs the knot of your tie and fixes it. “You need a younger pussy to satisfy you”

“Oh yeah?” you asked.

“Yeah” she replied in a dangerously seductive tone. Jennie’s accent always came out whenever she spoke naughtily. “I have a little something planned for you tonight”

“And what might that be?” you said, both of your faces close together as you inhaled Jennie’s intoxicating scent.

Jennie smiles as she plants a kiss on your lips before grabbing the back of your head and whispers into your ear. Your eyes widen as words leave her mouth and begin to process in your brain.

Jennie smiles as she takes your lips once more, her hands roaming your back as you smack her ass hard. She yelps in surprise, causing her to bite your lower lip. You break the connection between you two as Jennie sees your expression.

“I take it you accept my proposition?”

You nod, still stunned. Jennie grins as she takes your hand in hers and brings you outside the ballroom area. She leads you past the various security members assigned to the event until you both find a private bathroom with two stalls.

The moment you lock the door, Jennie captures your lips once more. Her kisses were more aggressive than Joohyun’s, sloppy and full of lust. She takes control by sliding her tongue inside your lips. Your hands find their way back onto her waist, as they naughtily roam every part of her body. You found Jennie’s hips were much wider than Joohyun’s, as your hands return back to their previous location in the ballroom: her bottom. You unbutton her extremely short shorts and massage them, causing Jennie to moan as your cold hands contrast her warm skin.

Jennie’s hands are now around your neck, kissing you hungrily before they find the buttons of your shirt and begin to remove them. When she finally unbuttons the last one, her kisses plant a trail onto your neck as you see your body be marked by her bright red lips. You remove your shirt and tie as she continues to kiss your chest until she finds her way to your abs. She looks at you with lust, smirking as she drops to her knees and finds your bulge in front of her face.

Jennie bites on your tip through the cloth fabric, causing you to moan as she unbuttons your slacks, already having unbuckled them in the ballroom. With one swift motion, she pulls your slacks and boxers down as your throbbing erection hits her cheek. She giggles, as she grasps ahold of your base and licks your tip. You let out a soft moan as you leaned your head back. Jennie’s hands were cold, which felt wonderful on your warm cock. You felt shivers down your spine as you looked down at your former booty call, pure joy and excitement seen on her face as she lathers your cock generously with her spit.

She strokes you in a delightful rhythm, getting aroused from hearing your cock be wet with her spit as well as your moans of satisfaction. She continues as her mouth kisses your balls, making sure they were sloppy before taking each individually in her warm and wet mouth. You let out a longer moan, as she sucked your balls one at a time. Her suction of them was your favorite thing she did to you, hearing the beautiful sound of them being released from her mouth with a loud pop. She moaned as she cupped your scrotum.

“These balls feel so heavy... and all of it just for me” she said.

You wanted to scream as Jennie’s mouth returned to your balls, taking both of them inside her mouth simultaneously. You started to feel lightheaded, forgetting about Joohyun as you watched an old flame give you oral that kept you up at night sometimes. She releases your sack, both of you gasping for air.

She smiles, kissing your tip as she only takes a few seconds to rest before dragging her tongue from the underside of your scrotum to your cock tip. Jennie knew what you liked, flattening her tongue as much as possible while she drew long licks. After several times of doing so, she reaches the tip. Giving you another kiss and licking up your leaking precum, she parts her lips and takes you inside her mouth.

“Holy fuck...” you moan as your cock enters Jennie’s comforting mouth. Her tongue seamlessly glides your underside as she teases you by only taking you halfway before retreating until only your tip is inside her. She looks at you and smiles with her eyes until she pushes her head down and begins slurping on your cock. You smile as inch by inch of you enters Jennie’s slutty mouth.

As you watch her, you notice the differences in techniques between her and Joohyun. Jennie forms an air tight seal on your cock, as her lips contain your shaft. She pools as much spit as possible to warm and wetten your cock. Joohyun preferred deepthroating, wanting you to facefuck her until you came in her mouth. Jennie loved teasing you, methodical in her actions of swiping her tongue across your tip and shaft. She never left your balls unattended, massaging them whenever she sucked your cock or taking them in her mouth whenever she stroked you. Joohyun never was the first to initiate ball play unless you convinced her to do so. Jennie’s blowjobs were imprinted in your memory, you missed the feeling of her mouth on you even though you were happy with Joohyun.

You failed at suppressing the loud moan that escaped your lips.

Jennie’s soft hands leave your balls and grip your thighs harshly as she began to suck your cock at a faster pace. She took you deeper into her mouth, her previously tight seal on you opening up as you felt her spit fall onto your base and balls, staining the floor. The sounds of Jennie gargling on your cock filled the restroom as you look at Jennie’s beautiful brown eyes and see her welling with excitement. She hums through a mouth full of cock, jamming you as far into her throat as she could.

You reached down and caressed her softly, she felt both of your hands on the side of her head as you rapidly force her head up and down your cock. You both maintain eye contact, as you fuck Jennie’s mouth. You loved hearing Jennie gag for you, her eyes spilling out tears of pleasure as her spit clings to her slutty mouth and chin, dripping onto her chest. Her hands remained on your thighs, digging into your skin. You feel yourself reaching a euphoric high as Jennie’s moaned loudly through your cock.

“So this is what you wanted to do...” you heard a woman’s voice say as one of the stalls open. You saw your girlfriend, a sweaty panting mess as her fingers were still inside her.

“N-noona, I...”

You were about to withdraw your cock from Jennie’s mouth as she hits your thigh and forces you to deepthroat her. You moaned as your hands instinctively grip her head and push her deeper.

“Shh. Don’t worry, baby. I’m not mad. In fact... why don’t I join and show this little slut here how mommy takes good care of you” Joohyun said as she gets on her knees next to Jennie.

“Oh, please” Jennie shot back as she regretfully withdrew her mouth from you.

“Daddy likes when his little girl is bad”

[a-hidden-weeb-an-open-queer]

Yo whores, bros, and other nonbinary folks, Naruto? Yeah that shit is shit. Sorry >.<

Big shocker when I say this, but the systems in Naruto make little to no sense. From the hospital system to the education system, all of it SUCKS.

And one of the biggest offender is ANBU - yea those bitches.

ANBU are suppose to be the eliet, the best of the best, the type of soldiers that follow all orders and can kill with their pinkies.

Woah. Weird. Because what we get are little pussies.

In order to keep my sanity, I've convinced myself that it's done on purpose - because pointing out bad writing is more boring then desperately trying to excuse bad writing in the form of head canons and theories.

You cannot tell me otherwise that the ANBU was created by a drunk Hashirama and everyone just went, "you got it, boss man."

The system is so deeply flawed that it's getting soldiers killed - good soldiers. And when you run out of quality, you replace it with quantity.

The ANBU is built to accept the highest portion of people who are willing to sell their souls to their government. The way to do this is easy, you make the test easy - that's right, it's all a lie hoes.

Now, how do I know that Hashirama drunkly came up with this system? Well...i dont because SOMEONE doesn't give us good historical backstories - but I theorize this is how it went down.

BECAUSE NONE OF IT MAKES ANY SENSE.

First of all, why the masks?

"B-but Weeb-san, the masks are to identify and give a persona to ANBU soldiers"

Incorrect, ignorant fake person who I made up for this argument.

You see, you don't want your unidentifiable ops to be...identify. We know that ANBU ops keep the same mask all throughout their career, so what's stopping a gossiping citizen from recognizing the same ANBU? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I bet my whole ass that there would be an underground Bingo book about ANBU ops, because oh, look at that: All it takes is a single person to record an ANBU's mask and abilities to completely nullify the whole point of ANBU.

The people who need to be identifying the ANBU are the same people who allowed to know the identities of ANBU - making the whole mask system fucking pointless.

Now, look, I'll admit that the whole 'adopting a persona to make you feel less shitty about murdering an entire family' is a valid argument - IF their personas wasn't so obvious.

So here's what you should do to fix it:

Keep the mask idea, but have them all be the same.

Keep the personable names, but allow them to be assigned by an overseeing captain or be personally choose - it's important to have these names to be personal and not just numbers; an easy way to forget who you are and going insane is by being completely stripped of who you are.

Oh. By the way, it's super easy to identify people outside of ANBU masks.

An example: when Kakashi was in ANBU, his hair and voice was unchanged.

How the fuck did no one go: "huh, it might be easy to identify this literal child genius based off his squeaky voice and weird ass hair. We should probably hide it with THE LITERAL HUNDREDS OF JUTSU THAT WERE CREATED EXACTLY FOR THIS REASON."

Oh, and right, let's not forget the tattoos.

No, you didn't hear me incorrect: the organization that no one is suppose to be aware that you're apart of gives you a tattoo. A tattoo. Right.

Can you guess where they're suppose to go? That's right bitch, on the shoulder. Right. Sure. Okay.

What, are ANBU suppose to fuck with their shirt on for the rest of their life? Oh sorry, I forgot the ANBU actively discourages having a life outside of being mindless shoulder because that's defiantly not a recipe for disaster - my bad.

"Oh but Weeb-san this is so they can assure that no one can copy and pretend to be an ANBU."

Yes, yes, I'm aware that the ANBU typical unform shows the shoulders. That's great. Sadly, there is a magical system in place which literally have zero limitations - looking at you space rabbit. Trust me, a tattoo is not the solution here.

So how do we fix this:

Add seals to the back of the mask to make it A.) Impossible to remove without the correct hand seals (which should change weekly btw) B.) Makes all voices monotone and androgynous.

Use the magic system. Please for fucks sake, use it. Everyone should have the same appearance; looking badass isn't an excuse for being a dumbass.

The tattoo system is in place to avoid the ANBU from being infiltrated. Allow me to quickly say: infiltrating ANBU will have to be done by someone who has inside information - the ANBU literally have their own sign language. Plus, I'm sure the members are close enough to realize when someone isn't suppose to be there. Overall, the tattoo system is fucking pointless. Just get rid of it.

Some headcanons~

Therapy. Seriously. There should be a mandatory check up every three months. You're telling me we have a whole clan who specialize in mental health and we aren't going to use them? Fucking dumbass.

ANBU headquarters should hold everything a person would need: sleeping quarters, cafeteria, medic area, and rec area. For most ANBU this is a life style; it makes no sense to force PTSD riddle, lonely soldiers into normal population unless they actively choose it.

I do believe this is cannon-ish, but teams should created for a single specialization.

There should be captain and co-captain; this is just to assure that a dumbass decision isn't made. Or teams should have a voting system.

Retirement should be encourage. Shocker, but having a useless teammate is very dangerous. If someone is incapable of continuing in ANBU they should be discharged and put into a different branch where they can be even more useful.

ANBU should be a very respectful position and shouldn't be taboo to talk about or anti-famous. This is less about the organization and more about how the public perceives them - I just find it very weird that being ANBU isn't idolized by children or lower ranked shinobi.

I defiantly forgot a few points, but honestly who gives two shits? I'll just edit it later lmao.

See you later, sexy mamas~

Xoxo

[thewritingstar]

Paper Hearts

Pairing: Buttercup x Butch (butchercup)

Fandom: The Powerpuff Girls 

Note: This was a commission for the wonderful @over-under-through1​ This was super fun to do and even though I rewrote it over and over, I think this is the soft and sassy greens we all have been wanting. Thank you to miss grace for commissioning me!!! 

------

“Did you get the answer to problem six?” Blossom asked.

Butch moved his pen towards the problem and relized that he hadn’t even finished the two before it. His lab partner just gave him a disappointed glare before moving on to do it herself.

“You’re spacing out again Butch.” Blossom stated.

“I’m not spacing out.” He said without even giving her a glance.

“For starters you are doodling little hearts in green ink instead of finishing the problem.” Blossom pointed out.

He glanced at his marked up paper. Green ink lined the margins with little hearts that he subconsciously made and he tore it out of the notebook before flipping to a fresh page and jotting down the rest of the questions.

A small giggle came from the other side of the table and he looked to see the pink puff hiding the noise behind her hand.

“What's so funny?” He tried to give her a cold stare that would scare the average person but had no effect on her.

“I just think its funny how you are considered one of the toughest people on the planet and yet you can’t even ask a girl out.” She snickered as she scribbled down more answers flawlessly.

Butch rolled his eyes and grunted. The smirk displayed on the puffs face was making him see red and possibly attack that bow as if he were a bull in a ring. “I’m not a pussy if that's what you’re thinking Pink.” He sneered with little to no reaction from her. “I could easily ask out any chick I wanted. Piece of cake.”

Her pen was set down and she folded her arms. “Alright then, then do it.”

“Easy peasy.” He scoffed and looked around the library. Luckily for him all the libraries held a pleather of selection and he thanked college for the assortment. A few tables ahead of them was a girl. She was busy with her head in a book and he began to get up.

“That's not what I meant Butch.” Blossom said as she trapped his foot under her heel.

His butt plopped back into the chair. “You said ask a girl out, that's what I’m doing.”

The redhead raised her brow before leaning over and grabbing the crumpled paper from his bag, along with several other papers that had various hearts and doodles all made from green ink. A small tint of red dusted his cheeks as more and more papers came undone.

“Ask her out.” She pointed to the paper. “You might think you’re fooling everyone else but I know you have, dare I even say, the hots for my sister.”

His eyes widened at the statement. “Excuse me?” He scoffed before grabbing the papers back into the bag where they belonged. “I do not have a crush on your sister, let alone my best friend.”

Blossom leaned back in her chair and twirled a pen between her fingers. If there was one thing Blossom was good at besides being the leader of the most powerful group of superheroes and organizing homework, it was getting the truth.

His eyes matched against the pink gaze and he could feel the sweat on his forehead as she continued to size him up.

“Really?” She broke their staring match. “Alright then.” She went back to her chemistry lab.

“Okay fine.” He grunted. He looked around the room hoping that no one would hear them but luckily it was pretty empty during this time and no one had the luxury of super hearing like them. “I like her, so what?”

“Then ask her out.” Blossom said as if she had solved the biggest mystery in the world. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Um she could say no and then it would ruin literally everything. Thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”

She fell silent to that and they spent the next ten minutes on their lab assignment. He managed to get through another sheet of problems but the confession was still in the air.

“So you’re okay then?” Blossom finally spoke.

“Okay with what?”

“Just being her friend and not doing anything?”

He let out a sigh. “What if it messes everything up?” It was a fear he had since he discovered his true feelings about her. He valued her friendship more than anything else and he didn’t need his hormones running a good thing.

“What if it doesn’t?” She gave him an empathetic look. “You know I wouldn’t be saying anything if I didn’t think anything could happen. You’re not the only one who feels this way, that I am sure of.”

The thought of Buttercup possibly liking him back, even for a second made his heart race.

“I would just hate for you to realize that you lost something you could have had sooner. You always rush head first into things and live on the wild side, don’t hesitate with this.”

He would be lying if he didn’t think that they had gotten closer over the years, really close. They would sit with their shoulders touching during movies and even go as far as sharing a drink sometimes. He would lend her his jacket if it was cold and would make sure to walk her home from her night class even though he knew she could handle herself, he just really liked being around her.

There had been long nights spent staring at the ceiling until the sun would peak through the window as he thought about their dynamic changing. It changed for his brothers and both couples seemed to be destined pairs, so why not them? So what if he thought about holding her close or kissing her before classes. Maybe once in a while he wondered what it would be like to be her boyfriend and to love and cherish her without restraint.  

Blossom stood and began to put away the array of notes and books around the table.

“Study time isn’t over yet?” He said.

She laughed lightly before patting his shoulder. “There's other chemistry you can be focusing on right now. So don’t be a pussy.” And she left him alone at the table feeling flustered and red as her bow.

He stared at the clock on the wall. He had about two hours before the evening classes got out. His stomach twisted into small knots as he tried to shake this overwhelming feeling of doubt out of his head. Those thoughts were being pushed away as he grabbed his textbook and stack of notes and put them in his bag.

He took one look at the newest ink doodles before grabbing it and shoving the crumpled wad into his jacket pocket.

“Don’t be a pussy.” He muttered to himself before leaving.

----

The sun was starting to set as he paced in front of his mirror for the past hour. He had gotten into the shower, a warm one to suds up his hair and then immediately back in for a freezing cold one to clear his mind and tame his senses.

He faced the mirror, hair dripping slightly as he ignored the longer black bangs that he usually spiked up. His reflection looked scared and uncertain. He took in everything Blossom had said and she even texted him some more but even with her support, he felt dizzy and unsure.

He took in a deep breath trying to calm himself down and not freak out.

“Alright Butch this is easy. You’ve asked out so many chicks before. Granted you never really liked them as much as her because, well, it's Buttercup and no one is better than her.” he said a little too fast for his own liking. “This will be simple. Just look into her eyes. Those soft green eyes that remind you of green tea and matcha, which happens to be her favorite drinks of course.” He laughed to himself.

He relaxed a little before grabbing his comb and threading it through his hair. “Not to mention the way her eyes sparkle when she's fighting a monster or watching a scary movie. Well maybe not all of that, don’t scare her, dumb ass. Keep it simple and classy.”

The bathroom filled with the scent of pine as he sprayed his chest and threw on a plain black shirt and skinny jeans. “How’s this.” He flashed a grin at the mirror and made finger guns. “Let’s fuck.”

“That's terrible, do not say that!” Boomer called from the other side of the door making Butch slightly jump.

“Shut the fuck up Boomer!” He shouted before grabbing his jacket and flipping off his little brother who was laughing on the couch. Fuck super hearing.

“You got this bro!” The blond called after him and Butch only slammed the door shut and let out a sigh before walking outside.

--

The October air was cool this time of night. The only sound he could hear was the buzzing through his headphones and the thumping of his loud ass heartbeat. His back came to a tree that was just outside her last class of the night. He never truly understood why she wanted to take classes at night, let alone Friday night.

He shoved his hands in his pocket and felt the bunched up paper. He pulled it out and unfolded it. Some of the ink had smeared lightly but the hearts were still intact for the most part.

“Don’t be a pussy.” He whispered to himself. “But also don’t lose everything.”

He stared at the paper before taking the corners and ripping them up and tossing them in the trash can near him. A disgruntled sigh left his lips and he wished that the ground would open up into a vortex and swallow him whole, never to be heard of again.

His mind had been at full speed since the library and he wondered if he should even tell her. How do you be friends with someone for more than ten years and then all of sudden change that?

It should be easy but unlike his brothers and her sisters, they were not the soft and emotional pair. The sappy love songs were always skipped and romance movies turned to comedies with them. He didn’t even know if she would like a bouquet of flowers or just to punch him in the face. Even if he did ask her out, would she even believe him? Would he?

His thoughts were interrupted when the door opened and the class began to file out. He had made the decision to leave this conversation for another day, maybe try a romantic setting or something else.

“Sup dude.” Buttercup grinned at him as their fists collided for a fist bump.

“Sup.” He responded.

“Eh class was boring, just a lecture but what can ya do?” She laughed and they fell into a rhythm as they walked.

They talked aimlessly and even their causally conversation was making him shutter and wish for more.

“Hey do you wanna stop and get some coffee? Think I’m gonna stay up and finish some chem homework.” He nodded towards the cafe that was open at all hours. She looked towards him and nodded before a small breeze came and she felt the hair on her neck stand up as goose bumps kissed her skin.

The fabric of his jacket overlapped her shoulders. “You never wear a jacket dummy. Wait here and I’ll go get us some.”

“Thanks.” She said just loud enough to hear.

The cool air swirled around him as he opened the doors to the shop but he felt like he was in the pits of hell. He had been secretly sweating and felt gross knowing that he was so incredibly nervous and hoped that she couldn’t notice.

He walked outside, two cups in his hands, the warm liquid slightly burning his palms but in a relaxing way. He found her standing next to a bench, her eyes focused on something in her hand.

“Here you go-” Butch stopped as his gaze traveled to the piece of paper she was holding.

A corner of a paper with a green ink heart and the letter B + B scribble aimlessly inside. He thought he had thrown out all the paper but of course the universe had decided to go against his wishes.

She saw his eyes widened as she took the coffee before focusing on the heart again. “It's cute.” She said before meeting his gaze.

“That's nothing. Chemistry stuff.” He played it off and took a gulp of his coffee ignoring the fact that it was burning his throat.

She hummed and smiled before sitting on the bench. Luckily the place had thinned out and was practically empty except for the few students stopping to get caffeinated.

“Chemistry huh?”

“Yep.” he popped the P.

Buttercup chuckled softly before leaning her arm on the back of the bench and holding up the paper.

“So do you want me to ignore it or did you want to give your sweaty declaration?”

He gulped. “What do you want me to do?”

She sat for a moment looking at the paper.  

“Dealers choice.” Buttercup smiled before placing it in his hand.

Confidence had always been Butch’s strong suit. At the age of seven he had already built up a wall to counteract anything and anyone thrown his way. Being born as a villain to society meant he had to reinvent his title and he had done it so carefully. He was known to be the rowdy bad boy who could have the room's attention on him with a joke or even a wink.

Doubt was hardly in his ball park and he tended to act first, think later in every aspect of his life. The cockyness and the wittyness had always been there but he felt most like himself when those walls became transparent around her.

He could lie and say it's nothing and maybe a week or month would pass and the moment would spark and he would confess, however she looked like she was more than ready to accept whatever was to be said. Almost like she had been waiting for it.

“I would just hate for you to realize that you lost something you could have had sooner. You always rush head first into things and live on the wild side, don’t hesitate with this.”

Blossoms words played in his head like a broken stereo on repeat. He didn’t want to hesitate. He didn’t want to live with regrets. The butterflies in his stomach had died down slightly. Whatever speech he had planned in the bathroom was long gone. It would be best to speak from his heart than sound like some animated doll who only had five things to say.  

Butch curled his palm. “Alright then.” He said with confidence. He turned to match her stone cold gaze and tight smirk. They loved to play the stare game but right now he wanted to win this war. “Enough bullshit then.”

She tilted her head with interest as he begged for an ounce of confidence to come and rescue him so that he didn’t seem like a sweaty hormonal boy. A soft hand was placed on his shoulder.

“Butch.” She said softly. “Breath. It’s just me.” She winked.

And she was right. He gave her a nod and her hands went back to her lap.

“Buttercup, I spent the last hour trying to think of what to say to you. My head was filled with all these emotions of how I think you’re not only the hottest and coolest girl alive, but how you are my best friend. The thing is I was working myself up over nothing because we know that you like me and I like you.”

She hummed at the statement and took another sip of her coffee.

“Which is why a sappy declaration of why I think your eyes are stunning or how you have a nice ass will not do.”

“I do have a nice ass.” She smirked.

“Yeah well I like telling you that. So.” He held up the paper. “What do you say BC?”

She took the paper with a bright smile. “I think, ‘Wanna fuck?’ would have summed it up.” She said in a low tone mocking his voice.  

“Okay ya know what? Boomer yelled at me for that so I blame him.” They shared a laugh before she set her cup down and cupped his cheek with her hand.

“For the record I don’t mind the sappy shit, at least coming from you.”

He bent down until their noses bummed before tilting his head and capturing her lips slowly. He had always imagined that their first kiss would be ignited by passion or lust, maybe a near death situation. But this right here, sitting in a park on a cool autumn night while sipping on cheap and slightly burned coffee seemed to be just as perfect as the rest.

Her lips were soft to the touch and tasted like mint. The tips of her hair tickled his cheeks as another gust came and she leaned in closer to him. They pulled away and he got lost in her eyes momentarily as they held a spark that seemed new and inviting.

A small tinge of red was on her cheeks as she shifted her eyes towards the ground. “But for the record, we are going to fuck right?” She said.

A laugh escaped his lips. “Oh without a doubt.” He winked at her and flashed a smirk that she thought was charming.

She smiled before they grabbed their coffee and walked towards her apartment building. There was a comfortable silence between them and he was thankful for it. His eyes kept glancing towards her, trying not to get caught but he was taken away by her.

In all the years he had known her, she was seen as an ultimate force for battle. A hunger for justice was always present on her face during battle and a stronger punch would follow. He had seen it all. Her desire to save and fight for others. The media knew her for being dark and sassy, which was true but they also never thought she would be as soft and sweet as her sisters.

Moments like these where there was no one else around and the only sound was the leaves shaking in the wind is what he enjoyed. He got to see her in a light that she hid in the shadows.

Slowly he reached his hand towards hers, a slight hesitation on his part but he interlocked their fingers together and for some reason, it felt like the most natural thing he’s ever done.

She glanced at him, squeezing softly to let him know that it was okay to do.

“I just want you to know that I’m really into you, sappy and cute shit too. You’re always gonna be the toughest person in the world but I’m also gonna like seeing the sugar side of you.”

“Thanks Butch. I’m always gonna like seeing the puppy dog tail of you.” She teased and a fake scoff came from him.

“Wow.” He said dramatically. “That was a low blow and here I was trying to be nice but I see you’re still the same ass wipe as before.” They stared at each other before breaking out into a fit of laughter.

Her giggles came down and she nodded towards her room. “Let’s go watch a movie.” She tugged his hand.

He followed her up the apartment stairs to her room, he could barely contain the smile on his face. The doubt and hesitation was long gone as he kissed her some more that night. If there was one thing he loved more than laying next to her or having her snuggled up into his arms while a movie played, it was the fact that nothing between them had changed.

She was still his best friend who liked to place bets and challenge him to a round of video games. The same girl who could take anyone on for soccer or basketball and even the same girl who stood at city hall with a grin as blood dripped from her nose without a care in the world. She was everything from before and everything he had always wanted.

---

Five years later

“Can I ask you a question?” Butch said.

Buttercup looked up from the book she was reading. “Whats up?”

“Well in my class we were talking about belongings and our prized possessions. I said mine was my wedding ring because it reminds me of you.” He smiled as he glanced at the gold band. “So what would yours be?”

BC sat up and looked at her own ring. “I mean I would say my ring too but to be honest it's something you gave me a long time ago.”

He furrowed his eyebrows as she leaned over to her night stand and opened the drawer. She took out a small velvet box that her wedding ring came in.

“Thought you already said your ring.”

She rolled her eyes and no matter how much she did it, he would never get tired of it. “It's what's inside dumb ass.” The box was tossed on her bed and he took it and flipped the latch open.

“Holy shit.” He gasped as he saw the small piece of paper with the faded green inked heart. “I didn’t know you kept this.”

Buttercup shrugged before kissing his cheek. “I don’t know, it means a lot even if it's something simple. Made me realize that I wanted to be with you forever.”

The box was closed and set to the side before he went and kissed her. “I love you.” He said against her lips and she giggled before responding with “I love you too.”

--

I hope you enjoyed this and thank you again for trusting me to deliver the green goods. 

Also BIG thank you to my wonderful betas  @creativecilla @avesthetea @lisathefan

*My commissions are open*

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Best of the Best | Part 1

Genre: Smut and Angst

Word Count: 4k

Summary: You promised yourself you’d never fall for another clingy, needy boy who demanded you gave him all your love, only to leave you after he has sucked you dry. Yet here you were, making that same mistake again. Alternatively: It wasn’t easy being perfect. Sometimes, Taeyong needed someone else to take control. Sometimes, he needed to be broken down completely in order to be put back together again, better and stronger. 

A/N: I tried to get as close as I can to ty’s actual personality in this one. This is largely inspired by his verse in Whiplash and some tidbits about his life that I learned from @nctforuandme she’s honestly single-handedly responsible for reigniting my obsession with ty so thank you a lot babe

Warnings: femdom, sub!taeyong, dom!reader, student/professor relationship, age-gap, dry humping, thigh riding, degradation, sexist remarks, breath play, semi-public sex, cheating, Miss kink (?), pwb professors with benefits, usage of the painfully cliche trope of “but you can’t fall in love with me”

“What is this?” You hear someone bark out. At first, you don’t think the wrathful inquiry is directed at you. After all, who would dare speak to you this way? But when you hear the same voice shout out again, much closer this time, you look up to find that the person, that poor fucker, was in fact talking to you. “Are you deaf? I asked you a question.” The students, who were just starting to file out of the room at the end of your lecture, freeze in their tracks and look over, varying degrees of shock and trepidation displayed on their faces. One of them, a tall bespectacled boy who you know you guess is a friend of the boy with the suicidal wish, Lee Taeyong, bravely steps forward to try and pull him back, muttering quietly to him, “Let’s go, man. It’s not worth it.” But the silver haired boy shakes him off, never taking his hateful gaze off of you. “No, this is bullshit. This paper is worth twenty-five percent of our final score and she gave me a D. A fucking D! This is gonna mess up my whole grade.” Gasps echo around the room as more students come into the room instead of getting out in order to watch the scene unfold. The boy’s friend pales and urgently whispers to him, “Dude, the man-eater is gonna have your balls for this. Apologize and let’s—“ You’ve heard enough.

“Everyone, get the hell out of my lecture room.” Your voice booms out, making students jump in fear and slip out hurriedly. When you see some still hesitate to leave, their curiosity getting the best of them, you threaten, “I’m going to count to five, and if I see anyone else in here after I’m done besides Mr. Lee, they can expect a zero on their next exam.” At that, everyone quickly rushes out. Even Lee’s friend backs away, his hands raised in the air as if to say he has nothing to do with his friends stupidity, and then he leaves too. When the room is empty sans you and Lee, you speak again. “What seems to be the problem, Mr. Lee?” “I want you to change my grade to an A.” He demands as if it was his right to get the grade he wanted, looking every bit the spoiled brat whose daddy always gave him everything he’s ever asked for. It wasn’t a look becoming of a young man studying at a prestigious university such as this, and the look you give him in response speaks volumes of how little you appreciated that.   “You don’t deserve an A. Your work wasn’t up to par.” You say dismissively. Your response seems to make him light up with pure fury. “Bullshit! I worked my ass off on this paper. I’ve been getting straight A’s eve since I set foot in this damn college. I’m not going to have my perfect score ruined by you.” “Well, you should’ve thought of that earlier. Maybe then you would’ve given me something better than the dismal excuse for a paper that you handed in. You’re lucky I even let you pass. Don’t make me rethink my decision.” You threaten him, hoping to dissuade him from his silly tantrum. Despite your reputation for being a merciless “man-eater”, you really didn’t derive any joy from making the lives of your students miserable, whether they were male or female. You cared about your students. You took pride in your work. That’s the whole reason you were so strict in the first place. You wanted to have a positive impact on their lives. You worked your ass off so that years from now, one of these students might look back on their college years and think ‘Man, I really learned something of value from Miss ___.’ That used to be the case anyway. Now, having endured years of indifferent students and spiteful colleagues, you’ve all but lost your passion for what used to be your dream job. But even so, you still cared about your students and you were still willing to let Lee’s little tantrum go if he backs down and apologizes, despite him having so brazenly disrespected you in front of the entire class.  But it seems he’s not too smart, that one. “I gave you my best work. I always give my best work! That’s why every other professor before you has given me straight A’s.” “Hmm, is that why? Funny. And here I thought all the others were just kissing your ass because your father is a major investor in this university and they’re just trying to save their own cowardly asses. Sorry, sweetheart, I’m just so dumb sometimes.” You smack your forehead with your palm, pretending to extrude the stupidity out. “Don’t you dare—“ He seethes, looking absolutely murderous, and you swear you can actually hear his teeth grinding together. “I got this far through my hard work and my hard work alone. I will not let you take that away from me.” “Let’s see that hard work in your next assignment then.” You try to end it there, feeling weary already, but still wanting to give him a second chance that he didn’t deserve to tuck his tail between his legs and run. Turning your back to him, you grab your folder off the desk, looking to gather your things and leave, but he promptly rips it from your hands and throws it to the side, your carefully collected and sorted papers flying out and scattering all over the floor. You don’t have any time to react as he backs you into the desk and looms over you with equal parts anger and desperation. “Look, just tell me what you want and you’ll have it. You want a Rolex? How about a nice Louis Vuitton bag, huh? Say what you want and it’s yours. Just… please, I need that A.” His sudden change in demeanor from lethal to excessively desperate was concerning and a little bit unsettling. Why did he need that A so bad? It’s not like it’s going to affect his overall score that much. He won’t get a perfect GPA but it wouldn’t be too far off. “Mr. Lee, look at me.” You sigh in exasperation and gesture towards your generic, economic outfit of a simple white blouse and a black skirt. “Don’t you think a watch or a bag that cost more than my entire wardrobe would look silly on me?” “I could buy you a whole new wardrobe then, to fit your new accessories. Is that what you want?” He hurries to say, a knowing glint in his eyes as if he’s onto you. “Are you even listening? What I want is for you to leave me alone.” You take a step to the side, trying to get out from under him but he slams his hands down on either side of you, trapping you against the desk. “So the rumors about you are true, huh? You really are a bitter bitch who takes pleasure in making the lives of her male students miserable in order to make up for her own sad and loveless life.” He snarls, looking down his nose at you. “You know, maybe if you weren’t such a frigid bitch, a man would actually want to touch your shriveled up pussy. Give me that A and I’ll give you that dicking I know you’re dying for, baby.” “Oh, but Mr. Lee…” You gasp, looking up at him demurely, lulling him into a false sense of security as you lightly trail a hand up his chest towards his neck. “I don’t fuck little whores.”   You circle your fingers around his neck and press down, cutting off the gasp that tried to fight its way out of his throat. As you lightly choke him, you monitor his reaction closely, ready to pull back at any sign of distress. But just like you had predicted, he stays rooted to the spot, looking at you like an animal caught in a trap, his eyes jumping around in alarm as he tries to catch his breath and make sense of what is happening. Smirking, you press down harder on his throat, slimming his breathing down to a wheeze. “What makes you think that you would even be allowed to put your dirty, little cock anywhere near my pussy? You’re just a stuck-up, spoiled little brat who needs to be reminded how to properly talk to his superiors. Do you know what you should be calling me, boy, or are you too dumb to even remember?” “Yes,” He grits out, getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen to his brain. He was glaring bloody murder at you but he never once attempts to pull back. You knew he wouldn’t. You had always been an excellent judge of character, a skill that’s came in handy quite often in your profession, and you knew just what this boy so desperately needed. “Yes, what, little slut?” “Yes, Miss.” He wheezes out and bucks his hips against you, making you snap at him and press down harder on his windpipe, blocking his airflow entirely. “Did I say you could do that? How are you going to ‘give me that dicking I’m dying for’ when just having my hand on your throat is making you hump me like a horny virgin?”     All at once, you take the pressure off his neck and he folds over, molding his body to yours as he sucks in deep, gasping breaths. Grabbing his jaw, you press your face close to his. “Look at you, so wrecked already. Are you that easy? I didn’t even need to touch your little dick. I bet you would cum if I so much as lay a finger on you, wouldn’t you?”   When he doesn’t reply, you clench your hand down on his jaw, your fingers digging into his cheeks, and ask again, “Wouldn’t you?” “Yes, Miss.”  “Would you like that?” “Yes, please, Miss.” “No.” You deadpan, “You don’t deserve it.” He slumps, looking positively crestfallen, but doesn’t protest. You’re quiet for a moment, your face a mask of cold disinterest as you stare him down, watching as he slowly unravels under the weight of your unimpressed gaze. He was trying so hard to hold onto his pride even as his eyes start to tear up and his hips move ever so slightly against you, timidly pleading you to give him something, anything. "You really want that A, huh?” Your face breaks out into a triumphant grin, “OK, I’ll give it to you.” Caught up in your game, he had forgotten what this was about in the first place, and so he starts, thrown off by the sudden reminder. “That’s what you wanted, right?” You taunt, smirking as you watch him gape and fumble. “Yes, b-but—“ “B-b-b-but,” You mock, laughing, and the boy’s face flushes crimson. He bites his lip and averts his eyes in embarrassment. You smile at him knowingly, stating state what you knew he wished to say, “But now you’re all wound up now and you want to cum too, don’t you, greedy little slut?” “I'll tell you what? I'll give you that A you’re whoring yourself out for, and I’ll not force you walk out of here with blue balls and a stiff cock. How does that sound?” The boy gives you what might possibly be the most innocent look you’ve ever seen on his face, or anyone’s face for that matter. He was wide eyed and slack jawed, fear and hope flitting over his face in alternating ripples as he tries to make out what your angle here was. You half-expect to see little restless ears sprout up from the top of his head for how much he resembled a frightened little kitty right now. He looked so unlike his normally cold and severe self. Right in front of your eyes, he seems to transform into someone else entirely; his white skin turning warm and tan, his demeanor tender and inviting, his sharp features broadening and a full, boxy smile replacing the thin-lipped pout on his face… But as soon as you blink, he’s Lee Taeyong again, and not the boy who broke your heart so many years ago. Pushing him away, he stumbles on unsteady feet as you walk around the desk and sit on the leather chair. You pat your thigh, flushing the intrusive thoughts away and ordering him tightly, “Come here.” He doesn’t protest, just walks up to you in a daze and sits down on your lap, straddling your thigh between his legs and looking at you expectantly. “What I’m offering you here is a chance to get everything you want. If you can get yourself off just by riding my thigh, I’ll give you that A you so desperately want." Taeyong looked positively terrified, his face paling as he tries to figure out if this was a trick or not. Taking pity on him, you cradle his face in your hands and gently ask, “Can you do that for me, Mr. Lee? Can you show me what a good, hard working boy you are?” He nods fervently, eager to believe you, his hands going to his pants to unbutton them, but you brush them away. "No. Keep them on. I want to see you make a mess for me." Sucking in a breath, he whispers harshly, “Yes, Miss.” When he starts moving on top of you, it’s a little uncomfortable. He is somehow both heavy and bony, but you don’t dwell on it for long, not when he almost immediately picks up his pace, grinding against you earnestly as if he just suddenly realized how badly he needed to get off.  You watch his frantic movements in amusement, remarking, “You know, if we had enough time, I would never have let you off this easily. I would’ve edged you on for so long that you’d cum on command.” He shivers at your words, his hips grinding down harder against your thighs as delicious little moans fall freely from his mouth. You support his head in your palm as it lolls to the side, “Then I’d make you cum again and again. I would make you cum so many times that by the end of the night you'll be crying and begging me to hurt you even more." “Yeah, yeah,” He moans encouragingly, clutching onto you and swiveling his hips around in circles, his cock driving into the flesh of your thigh hard. "Be quiet kitten or someone will hear your mewls." You laugh, slipping a hand under his shirt to softly caress his stomach. He was shuddering like a leaf above you, barely able to control his movements, and he doesn't calm down. He only gets louder. "Damn, you’re a loud little slut." You push the fingers of the hand that had been cradling his face into his mouth, muffling his moans, and he immediately goes to work licking and sucking on your fingers like a lollipop.  "I knew I was right about you. From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew that you were just begging for someone to strip you off of your abrasive and entitled attitude and whip you back into shape. But no one ever did, right? They all saw you acting cold and clawing at anyone who tries to come near, and they assumed you’re a lion trying eat them up. But you’re not a lion. You’re just a frightened little kitty looking for someone worthy enough to tame him.” You confidently, watching as the boy melts under your words, allowing you to gaze upon his true self.  You know it’s hard for him, exposing himself like this, so you try to be gentle with him. “Poor kitty, you must’ve been waiting for so long. I can’t imagine that your pretty little girlfriend ever took charge of you like you crave. I bet she just lets you do whatever you please with her. I bet she never once punished you for being so insolent or fucked you until you cried out for forgiveness. Isn’t that right, little kitty?” Taeyong’s legs clench around your thigh and he pulls his head back, your fingers slip out of his mouth and tracking strings of saliva behind them as he cries out, “I’m so close, Miss. Please, let me cum.” Since all of this must be so overwhelming for him and yet he was still well-behaved enough to ask before cumming without you needing to tell him to, you decide to take it easy on him. “Cum, little kitten, show me what a good boy you can be.” He gives a few last erratic thrusts before his body seizes up and he cries out, finally cumming. You quickly clamp a hand over his mouth to muffle his screams, feeling warmth coat the fabric of your skirt as he shudders above you. When he hunches over you, completely spent, you wraps your arms around him and rub his back soothingly, listening to him gasp for air and feeling his heart beat wildly through his frail rib-cage. "Hush little kitten. It’s OK. You’re OK. I’ve got you.” "Thank you, Miss." His reply is muffled as he buries his face in your shoulder. As his body slowly relaxes and his breathing settles down, you slowly become aware of what exactly you just did... You got yourself sexually involved with a student, a clearly troubled boy who craves affection and support and who probably now thinks you can give him that.  Why do you always go after the broken ones?  Technically, it wasn’t against school policy to hook up with a student but you could still get a lot of grief over this, and that’s just the administrative and interpersonal-relationships  aspects of it… You sigh, pushing the boy up so you can lock eyes with him. "You did well, Mr. Lee. You’ll be getting that A you were promised. You just need to keep what happened between us to yourself. After we leave this room, you have to promise to never talk about this again, not to me, not to anyone. Is that understood?" You hope he would gladly take your offer and leave. After all, he just got the grade he wanted and an orgasm to boot. But when he hesitates to answer you, you know you’re in trouble. “Mr. Lee, do we have a deal?” For another agonizing second, he remains quiet, throwing you into a vicious loop of worrying about all the improbable reasons behind his silence and how you’re going to deal with them and all the possible ways this could end badly for you.  Finally though, he breaks eye contact and answers you with a timid, “Okay.” As you watch him leave the lecture room, his gait funny because of the sticky mess in his pants, you pray to god that the feeling of dread washing over you is completely unjustified and that this wouldn’t come back to bite you in the ass later. •❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅• As always though, your gut feeling was correct. After your little encounter with Mr. Lee, it was like he became obsessed with you. He would openly stare at you during lectures then find any flimsy excuse to talk to you after, leaving his friends to scratch their heads and wonder why the boy who was just about to end you a week ago was now always following you around like a little duckling. It was all getting very suspicious and you found yourself forced to intervene quickly before anyone figured it out. Rounding him up in your office--a concerningly easy feat seeing as the boy was more than happy to be locked up in a room alone with you-- you turn on him, “Mr. Lee, what on earth are you doing?” “I—I am asking you about the assignment.” He gulps, trying not to give himself away and failing miserably. “I don’t understand the part where—“ “Cut the crap, Lee. You understand it perfectly. You’re not very smooth, you know? Now tell me, what is this about?” You demand. You weren’t slick either. You knew what he wanted but you were desperately hoping you were wrong, the sickening sense of déjà vu coursing through your brain so strong, it was nauseating. You couldn’t handle another needy, clingy boy who demands all your love then leaves you when he has run you dry. The boy scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, and stumbles through his words, "Can I... can we...do... it again? What happened last week, I mean. Not exactly the same though! I can make you feel good too I swear I—“ “Didn’t we agree to never talk about that again? You’re talking about it.” “I know but I just can’t stop thinking about it! That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had and you didn’t even touch me. Holy shit, I can’t wait to see what you can do if you actually touch me.” “Then I’m afraid you’ll be waiting for a long time. What I did was wrong and unprofessional and as your professor, I sincerely apologize to you for that. It can’t happen again." “Why?” He whines childishly.  "Because I’m your professor.” You say it like it’s matter-of-fact, because it is. “If the other professors find out I’m sexually involved with a student, they’ll ostracize me. It’s already hard enough with all the malicious rumors running around about me just because I’m a woman who dares to be assertive and not let men walk all over her. If they find out about this, it will just be more proof in their minds that I hate men and I’m taking it out on a poor student.” “They won’t find out. I’ll make sure of it. I'll keep pretending I hate you and no one will ever know. And even if they did, I can shut them up. You said it yourself; my father is the biggest investor in this college and they all want to stay on my good graces. Please, I need this.” “That’s not how it works, Mr. Lee. They’ll only shut up in front of you but they’ll still talk behind your back. Why don’t you just hire a dominatrix or something if you need this so bad?” "I don’t want a fucking dominatrix. I want you." There was that fire in his eyes again, the all-consuming passion to get what he wants at whatever cost that you’re so used to seeing from him. This Taeyong was completely different from your previous lover. He was rage and determination and cold, blue fire; nothing like the warm and soothing orange of the other, softer boy. You knew this Taeyong. You could handle this Taeyong. “I don’t want a strange woman whipping me around and telling me to lick her boots. I want you. You get me! You saw me in a way no one ever did before. I just... I’m so close to losing it. I have to put on this persona every minute of every day but it’s slipping off and I can’t keep it in place anymore. I need to let go for once and let someone else take charge or I’m going to snap. Please, help me.” The problem is that you believed him wholeheartedly; you sympathized with him wholeheartedly. Because beneath his hard exterior, there was a soft, mushy thing inside that frail rib-cage of his that mirrored your own. You couldn’t turn him away when you saw yourself in him. So you agree, under one condition. “You can’t fall in love with me. If you do then it’s over.” Taeyong laughs incredulously, taken aback by the weird condition, and his mood immediately lifts up, clearly not taking what you’re saying seriously. “Look, Miss, I’m just trying to get fucked. Nobody’s falling in love here, at least not me.” That arrogant smirk was back on his face again. He looked so damn confident. So why was your gut feeling telling you that this is all a huge mistake? ��Good.” You say, squashing the feeling down and taking in the beautiful, broken boy. •❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅• A/N: AHHHHHH I’m so excited for this series y’all. This was long overdue. Anticipate a lot of angst with this one. It’s gonna be dark but not in a criminal way, more like a slowly soul-crushing way like THERAPY. ahahahha as always I live off feedback and I’m anticipating your wonderful messages 

[boymeetsweevil]

Another draft because FS is taking too long

Title: two wrongs don’t make a right (so what do two douchebags and a dweeb make?)

Douche/fuck boy Jimin and Jin, weirdo!OC

Jimin waits until the girl’s tiny frame disappears down the hallway in a blur of overly familiar stained sweats before turning to stare down a very sheepish looking Jin.

“You can’t tell anyone about this, got it?” He rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it and making him resemble a cockatoo.

“Dude, relax. I get it, you have a rep to maintain. Everyone ventures outside their type for a first time.”

Jin winces. He knows he’s known for being incredibly picky—only ever sleeping with 4.0 girls (the number referring to their maximum dress size and minimum GPA). Someone even did a story on it in the Hot Takes section of the school magazine. He’s still not sure if it’s a moment he should proud of.

“About that…” he trails off and tugs nervously at the throw blanket he hastily clothed himself with when Jimin burst into their shared living room only to catch him in a rather compromising position. With that girl of all people.

“What?”

“Itsnotthefirsttimeanditwontbethelast”

Jimin blinks slowly, trying to process the flurry of words and Jin’s ashamed tone. When what Jin said finally hits him, he grins darkly.

“Man, c’mon. Don’t joke like that about her, its not nice.”

“Jimin, I’m—,” Jin looks around the hallway suspiciously before dragging Jimin into the dorm and slamming the door shut. “I’m being serious, okay?” Jimin’s jaw drops and he begins to sputter.

“But…why her?”

The first time Jimin encountered you was during a particularly late night in the stacks of the library last semester. The year was starting off hard and he was getting his ass kicked in one particular introductory psych class.

At around 1 in the morning, he had one more problem to finish on his take-home exam but was desperately stuck. He remembered seeing someone who he recognized from class sitting in the economics section. He thought it was odd initially. Usually no one sat there because the smell from the librarians’ bathroom often carried over. And no one wanted to study to the smell of coffee shits.

Taking a break, he grabbed his laptop and wandered around the stacks to find the classmate. When he found you, you were in the process of packing up, struggling to get your earphones into the headphone jack of your phone while also carrying a stack of periodicals and a burger from the campus grill, which happened to be leaking ketchup onto your already dingy tracksuit. He approached you carefully.

“Hey, you’re in Professor Kang’s class, right?”

“Huh?”

His voice startled you and you lost your precarious grip on your stuff. The poorly wrapped burger fell to the floor and bled a little onto your white converse. The periodicals fluttered down around your feet.

“Shit, sorry. Lemme help you,” he offered as he put his laptop down. You gasped from your spot already crouched on the ground.

“No, please, it’s really okay. Please, I’m fine, I don’t need—“

But he already had one printout from the stack in his hand and automatically turned it over. When Jimin looks back on the memory, he thinks that this may have been the biggest mistake he’s ever made in his life.

He would later find out after a nervous google search that the paper in his hand, and probably 80 percent of the papers on the ground, were called fursonas. While a handful might have been somewhat decent, most of them were of overly buff rabbits with bubble butts raised for the viewer or tigers fisting weeping, veiny dicks over pastel backgrounds. The one he held was of a duck, or something, with a weight lifter’s body with an obscene expression on its face while tentacles swarmed it from all angles. The implications of what might be happening in the picture made Jimin’s head hurt.

“Oh my god, what the fuck. What the fuck,” he whispered. He was so stunned that he let you rip the page from his hand.

“It’s called fur-centric hentai and its art,” you hissed. The line sounded mechanical and well-practiced if you asked Jimin. He watched you gather the rest of your belongings quickly, burger included, before leaving him crouched in the economics stacks.

Jin snaps his fingers in front of Jimin’s zoned out face only to have him be brought back to reality with a look of slight disgust.

“What’s your problem, fix your face,” Jin snapped.

“I’m just trying to figure out why you chose her, of all people. You remember that story I told you about the Econ stacks. I was so scarred, I got a C on that test.”

“Pretty sure you got a C because you didn’t realize there was a second page of the homework.”

“Well, if she hadn’t thrown her weird animal dicks all over the place, I would have realized there was a back and finished the assignment”

Jin sniffs and drops the blanket he was wearing, before walking over to the kitchen to get a drink, naked as the day he was born. Jimin follows on autopilot.

“Maybe you should stop trying to yuck my yum,”Jin says over his shoulder.

“Oh my god, don’t say it like that. I’m just saying, man. She’s weird. And gross. And more importantly not.Your. Type.” He enunciates each word with a poke to Jin’s bare back while he gets them some beers.

“You think I don’t fucking know that? That’s why I keep it discrete. Why do you think I told you not to come home every Tuesday and Thursday at until after 8:30?”

“You said you had lab.”

“How the hell could I do a lab in our apartment?”

“It…It could happen.”

“I’m a poetry major,” Jin pinches the bridge of his nose at his roommate’s stupidity, “Damnit Jimin.”

Jimin purses his lips when he realizes he might be even dumber than he thought.

“Wait a second, you’ve had lab,” he makes giant air quote gestures, “for, what, 2 months now? You’ve just been fucking her this whole time?”

There’s a beat of silence as Jin takes another swig from his beer. “Yeah,” he finally says. The matter of fact air of his response makes something glitch in Jimin’s brain.

“What the hell, dude? That’s a lot of repeat service. Does she have something on you? Is that why you’re doing this? Did you break an expensive-ass vase or something?” Jimin stops to think, his mind running wild with possibilities. “Holy shit, are you being pimped out?”

“No. God, would you just shut up?” Jin sighs quietly. “I’m sleeping with her so much because she’s the best I’ve ever had.”

Jimin takes a step back at the defeated sincerity in Jin’s tone.

“How? What about that time with that other girl--what was her name?” Jimin runs a hand through his hair trying to remember any name of one of many the girls Jin has had a fling with. “Oh! Irene or something? What about her?”

“I mean, Irene was fine. She gave pretty good head. But last Thursday I thought I came harder than I’ve ever come in my entire life.”

“You ‘thought’?”

Jin looks up wistfully somewhere behind Jimin’s head at the memory. “Well then she came over the following Tuesday and rocked my shit,” he smirks. “And then that was the hardest I’ve ever come in my life.”

“So she gives good head. Who cares? There’s plenty of girls on campus who give good head and also don’t draw furry porn for a living and wash their damn sweatpants.”

“You don’t understand, dude. It’s not just the head. It’s the head, and the handjobs, and the pussy. It’s everything.”

Jimin raises his eyebrows incredulously. “The pussy is better than the handjobs?” He has to try hard not to look impressed. Meanwhile Jin is smilng, almost relieved now that the secret is out and he can talk openly about the mindblowing sex he’d been having.

“The first time she jerked me off, I passed out immediately after I came and woke up late to the class the next afternoon.”

Jimin narrows his eyes but motions with a hand for Jin to continue.

“The first time she blew me I couldn’t even walk afterward.”

“Wait...was that the day you told me you thought you had a sprained ankle? The one that healed after 24 hours?”

“Yep.”

The smug tone and the second stupid lie make Jimin want to rip his hair out. “Why do you lie so much,” he whispered, pain in his voice.

“I wasn’t lying, I really thought I had a sprained ankle.”

“From a blowjob?”

“That’s what I said.”

“What about the, uh, the pussy,” Jimin asks after realizing the FBI probably won’t come through the doors and snipe him for talking about vagina.

“The one time she let me hit it raw, I cried.,” Jin says, absolutely beaming.

“Oh, come on. You can’t be serious.”

“I am, though. I think she was gonna let me do it again today.” Jin closes his eyes and smiles softly while Jimin looks on, unamused.

“So? What happened today? She underperform or something?” There’s a hint of jealousy and a lot of curiosity in his tone, but Jimin would deny it if anyone asked him.

“No, asswipe. She got spooked because you showed up when you weren’t supposed to.”

“Well, sorry for ruining your lies,” Jimin snaps, cracking open his own beer.

“You think this is a joke?” Jin shoves Jimin in the chest roughly. “We didn’t get to finish because of you. Now I have to jerk off with my own hand. That’s pathetic”

“And what were you doing before you met her? Listen to yourself, she’s making you crazy. No one is that good in bed.”

Jin stomps over to the couch and settles down before turning and looking at Jimin over the backboard.

“You know what? You go and sleep with her 3--no--4 times. And if she doesn’t completely fry your brain, I’ll pay for any and all of your takeout for the next month. But If she does, you gotta switch mattresses with me and not come by the dorm until after 10 on Tuesdays and Thursdays from then on.”

“Dude, gross I don’t want your sex soaked mattress. It’s the same as yours anyway. Minus the ten gallons of old jizz on it.”

“No, it’s not. You have that, like, Tempurpedic thing.”

“True,” Jimin nods thoughtfully, “But don’t you think it would be weird if the roommate of the guy she was fucking started trying to get in her pants? Also, I could just lie and say she didn’t do it for me. Then you’d be forced to pay for my food and—Hold on. If she’s so good, why are you so willing to pawn her off to me?”

“Why do you ask so many stupid questions? First of all, she’s not mine just because I’m sleeping with her. I’m just telling you to go see if she’ll let you. I mean, there’s no guarantee. She barely even gave me a shot.”

“She barely gave you a shot? But you’re, like, the campus prince”, more air quotes, “How did this even happen?”

“Well, to make a long story short, we were both high at her sorority and I’d heard rumors about her from Wonho, so I went to…talk to her in her room.”

“Wonho is Wonho, though. He’d fuck anyone if the weed was good.”

“That’s where you’re mistaken, my friend. He has a diverse and sophisticated palate. He knows what he’s talking about when it comes to weed and sex. Once I took him up on his suggestion and she said yes, I never looked back,” Jin says with a dreamy voice.

Jimin watches the back of Jin’s head loll on the sofa. When a soft sigh emerges from where the older man is sitting, Jimin recoils and runs out of the kitchen, away from the couch.

“Are you jerking off right now? Dude. Not cool.”

“Get the fuck out, then. It’s Thursday, which means I’m getting off by 7:30pm and I don’t give a rat’s ass who’s here when it happens.”

“Fine,” Jimin huffs and reluctantly stuffs his feet back into his sneakers where they lie by the door. “I hope your dick chafes.”

Jin purposefully releases another, louder moan and Jimin runs out of the apartment.

“I’ll have an order of the half crispy, half spicy and a large coke. Thanks,” Jimin says to the clerk at the grill before checking his phone for the 8th time in the hour.

8:01 Jimin - Are you done yet?

             (8:10 read by Jin)

8:11 Jin - yeah but round two starts soon so

8:11 Jin - *middle finger emoji*

Jimin quickly shuts down his messenger app and opens up Flappy Bird while he sits at a table and waits for his order number to be called.

“Stupid asshole and his stupid dick, kicking me out of the stupid apartment. Fuck you, dickhead,” Jimin mutters to himself.

“What did you just say?” 

Jimin’s head whips up at the infantile voice coming from the seat across from him. Jeon Jungkook is sitting at his table, eating a veggie burger. Who the hell orders a veggie burger from a chicken place?

“Were you talking to me,” Jungkook asks again, pushing his bulky glasses up with a finger.

“Jeon, why would I be talking to you? A better question is why the hell are you talking to me?

[littlemisskookie]

Four Letters: Ch 8

Four Letters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Ship: FWB!Jungkook | IceQueen!Reader | Yoongi Description: College!AU. Enemies to Lovers. Your icy exterior makes it seem as though you dislike everyone- which is partially true. But the one person you truly dislike is the cocky frat boy Jeon Jungkook. Warnings: Threesome, Double Penetration, Ass-Play, Dirty Talk, Oral, Cum-Eating, Cum-Play, Degrading Names, Spit Roasting, Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Forced Orgasms, Pussy Slapping, Gagging, Creampie, Blowjob, Intercourse, Deep Throating, Light Spanking, Slight Exhibitionism, Unprotected Sex, Choking, Squirting, Lots of Overstimulation, Light Spitting, Slight Dub-Con, Sloppy Seconds? D/S Themes, Light Fluff, Angst Word Count: 12,330

"Why are you crying?"

You look up at Tae from your laptop, tears streaming down your face. You hurriedly wipe them away as Taehyung rushes to your side, giving you a warm embrace, cradling you to help you feel warm and comforted.

"Shh, I'm sure it's ok. What is it?" Taehyung questioned, his voice soft and soothing despite the fact he had just been woken up by the sounds of your crying in the middle of the night. His eyes were trained on you with concern, and you could tell that much from how the laptop's screen illuminated his features in the otherwise dark room.

"I-I forgot to submit my essay and n-now it's too late," you sniffle, wiping away at your nose. "God, I fucked up so badly. I can't believe I was this irrisponsible."

"Hey, it's alright. It'll be ok," Taehyung assures you, massaging your shoulders.

You felt as though you were being a melodramatic baby, but you couldn't help yourself. You had pulled an all-nighter on this before and forgot to turn it in. Now you were minutes late, and you knew you'd end up getting a zero on the essay. There was no doubt it'd bring down your grade. "No it isn't!" you heard yourself wail.

Taehyung was patient and kind. "You're bright, Y/N. One paper isn't going to get in the way of you graduating. It's only your freshman year of college anyway."

"I hate it already," you sniffle, pouting as you looked glumly at the screen. It seemed to mock you and the cold tears that ran down your cheeks.

Taehyung slowly shut your computer. "You should go to bed. There's nothing that can be accomplished by moping over something that's already been done. You'll pull up your grade with the next few graded assignments- I'm sure of it."

You rise from the chair as Taehyung pulls you closer to the bed. He lifts up the sheet for you to climb inside, following you after. You roll on top of him, bear-hugging his waist as you nuzzle his chest. You're overcome by the scent of him, not some cheap smelling cologne- just Taehyung. It smelled like home. It smelled like memories of your first kiss with him at a football game, where your team won and you were cheering so loudly that he leaned over and kissed you just to shut you up in the most polite way possible. It smelled like snuggling next to a roaring fire when his parents were out of town, the two of you curled into a blanket and tipsy from sneaking the vodka from the liquor cabinet, playing ISPY despite the fact both of your visions were blurry.

Your lids are droopy when you pressed your lips against Tae's, molding them together. You melt into the feeling, a smile on your lips until you pull back, your eyelids fluttering open.

Beside you is a man you do not recognize. Another nameless student at your school, another face you wouldn't see. Yet the two of you were stark naked beneath the sheets, and you could feel the bass from the speakers cause the house you were in to vibrate. You heard each crashing boom and the muffled hollers from downstairs, and you had just given this stranger your virginity.

It had been a bit over a month since Taehyung left you.

Or had it been longer? It felt as though each minute was a day, as the days drag on into years. For all you knew it had only been a week.

So your friend Lisa had dragged your depressed self to a random party, and you drowned yourself in your worries with alcohol and started to dance, only to hook up with the man who had been grinding on you for a majority of the night.

You roll over, looking at his face, analyzing it. Up close he wasn't nearly as blurry and evidently wasn't nearly as good looking. But you had dated Tae, so your standards were by far higher than most.

It was funny. You always assumed you would've given it to Taehyung. Whether it be after a few more months of dating or on your wedding night- you had built up this whole fantasy of it being sweet and sensual and romantic- giving your virginity to the man you loved.

Instead, it had been boring, sloppy, and short.

"That was great," the man grinned beside you, adjusting as he sprawled himself against the mattress. He's a senior- which explains why you had never seen him. Though he decided to hook up with a random freshman, you didn't know. He glances at you. "Did you cum?"

Considering the fact he hadn't even touched your clit, something that even the inexperienced you knew about, you'd have to decline.

"Sure," you find yourself saying. You thought back to what had just transpired between the two of you. How uneventful. You came to the conclusion that sex was by far overrated- and for that matter, men.

Of course, it would take you three months to finally put that to heart, as you slept around with plenty of men in some effort to numb the feeling of being abandoned.

But for now, you'd subside with putting your clothes back on and leaving the room, going back down to the party where drunk people would dance pressed against one another without a care in the world.

You bump into someone the minute you step off the stairs. A doe-eyed boy collided with your figure. He was tall, but there wasn't much muscle there. You recognized him, however. He was the boy who apparently arrived at the school in some fancy car that no broke college student could afford, who's parents were rumored to buy his way into the school.

You forgot his name but nevertheless didn't pay much attention to him. What would you care about some spoiled rich kid? He probably didn't have to work for anything that was handed to him, and as he grew up he wouldn't know how to do anything. People like that were always reduced to nothing- rubble- from what you knew. "Sorry," he apologized as you turned away, brushing past him.

It was your first interaction with Jeon Jungkook- but months later he would become built and obnoxious, shedding his rich boy persona in favor of the more punk look- and absolutely content with bugging the ever loving shit out of you. At which point the two of you had changed so drastically that the brief encounter was completely forgotten.

If only you knew at that moment what he would become. What the two of you would become.

"Y/N!" he shouted.

You freeze. How did he know your name?

"Y/N!" he calls again. You turn around, brows furrowed. His voice was higher than usual.

"Y/N!"

Your eyes snap up, and you bolt upright, turning towards Lisa who stood at your doorway, the light to your room on.

"Y/N, is it ok if I borrow one of your jeans? The ripped ones that are that washed out color," Lisa questions. "I'm surprised you're still sleeping in. It's the middle of the day. I mean, I know we don't have classes today but..."

You're dazed, still trying to bring yourself to reality, trying to decipher what little you got from the dream before it disappeared from your mind forever. The blend of memories and dreams that seemed to blur.

Lisa gave you a concerned look. "Are you ok? You look out of it. Well... frazzled."

You rub at your eyes, your mind hazy. "It's nothing just a weird dream."

Lisa snapped her fingers and pointed to you. "You're running but the thing you're running to just gets farther and farther?"

"That's your dream- not mine," you huff. It had been a while since what transpired between Hoseok and Lisa- weeks, actually. She had been rather depressed at first, and you returned the favor by cheering her up in her time of need.

She definitely seemed a lot more chipper, though, recently.

"Where are you going anyway?" you questioned as she rummaged through your closet.

She bites her lip in excitement, turning to you as she holds the jeans to her chest. "I have a date today."

Your eyes are wide as you stare at her. "Wait- what?"

"I met this really cute guy at the coffee shop a few days ago; cliche, but it was so cute! They got our drinks mixed up and we ended up sitting with one another and chatting. We exchanged numbers, and I didn't want to say anything because I figured it might be a bit too soon- but we've got a date today!"

"That's great, Lisa!" you say enthusiastically. "What's his name?"

"Jin," she grins. "Oh, Y/N, he's the most gorgeous man you've ever seen! Like, if Aphrodite and- I don't know, some other really hot person, had a baby- it's this guy! He's absolutely dreamy!"

You're pleased to know that she's getting over Hoseok, and hopefully, this Jin character will help get her mind off of the man she had been in love with for so long.

"Maybe one day Jin and I could go on a double date with you and Jeon. I know it's too soon to think of such things, but I can't help it," Lisa says gleefully.

"Jungkook doesn't date. Besides, I went on a date with Yoongi. Not Jungkook," you clarify. Though, you still need to properly speak to Yoongi about the whole Jungkook situation. The two of you had been tiptoeing around it too much, without addressing the situation, and it made whenever the two of you hung out way tenser.

Lisa rolled her eyes. "Yoongi's just the guy you're going out with because he's safe."

"What do you mean by that?" you question, furrowing your brows.

"C'mon, Y/N. Everyone calls him the guy you- and you figure if you get someone similar to yourself they'll be less likely to hurt you- because you wouldn't hurt you. You're scared of Jungkook because you're scared of getting as close to someone as you were to Tae."

You tense at that, the name making your muscles tighten.

Lisa gives you a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, I'm just speaking my mind. I mean, it's obvious. You're afraid of getting attached to someone because it'll mean getting hurt. With Yoongi you can stay detached."

"Since when were you one to speak your mind?" you questioned.

Lisa shrugged. "I don't know. I guess having to prevent saying what I've wanted to for so long, I realized that I'd be a lot happier if I said what I meant and meant what I said. It quits the bullshit, y'know? I'm a lot happier when I say what I've always wanted to. Maybe you could learn something from it."

You glare at her as she wags her brows, and you know perfectly well what she is insinuating. "There's nothing I want to say."

"Only because you won't admit it to yourself yet," Lisa teased. "But don't worry- sometimes it's hard for insiders to see what the rest of the world does."

"And what does the world see, exactly?" you ask, cocking your head to the side.

She steps forward to ruffle your hair, though it doesn't do much. You've got bed head still from just waking up. Her smile is bright, and you can't remember the last time it was so genuine.

"That you're head over fucking heels for Jeon."

-

You're tapping furiously at your laptop, eyes flickering up to the assignments that you'll have to do later on. Read this chapter, read that, write this essay, fill out this question- you loved Psychology, of course, but the teacher really loved to pile on homework for the lot of you.

You feel a presence slide next to you, and you turn to Jungkook. Your brows furrow. "What're you doing here?" you question. "You don't usually sit next to me."

Jungkook shrugs. "Lisa's not here- you probably know what happened to her- and Hoseok's away to visit his sister. So why not?"

"I dunno, it's just different," you mumble to yourself, your cheeks heating up when you realize you stammered your words a bit. You needed to concentrate on copying this down- not Jungkook.

"Am I not allowed to sit next to you?" Jungkook questioned.

"Why would you want to?" you shoot back, eyes darting back to the words above. Your teacher had a habit of turning things off too fast or clicking through the slides at the speed of light.

Jungkook shrugs again. "I just like spending time with you."

You snort in derision, amused. "You like sleeping with me, that's what."

Jungkook smiles at that. "I'm serious. Sleeping together or not, you're pleasant to be around."

Your fingers freeze over your keyboard as you look to him. "I think pleasant is the last word someone would describe me as, Jeon. You must not know me at all."

"Nah," he grins, his smile oddly adorable. "Maybe I just know you all too well."

"I'm called an Ice Queen for a reason," you remind him, going back to copying down the information.

"Ice can melt," Jungkook says.

"Why would I melt?" you say, looking to him for a straightforward answer.

His grin only grows larger. "Some people are worth melting for."

You blink at him, your face stony. "I'm going to ignore you now and pretend that you did not just quote Olaf from Frozen with the cheesiest line ever said."

Jungkook cackles at that, and despite your insistence on ignoring the annoying prick, you can't wipe the small smile on your face or suppress your uplifted spirits.

-

Namjoon was currently in one of the storage closets putting away the knickknacks that were cluttering up the studio. You glanced to Yoongi, deciding that if you were going to say something, now was the time to. At least while Namjoon was gone.

"Uh, Yoongi, can I talk to you?" you ask him softly.

He looks up to you. "Sure, what's up?"

"It's about Jungkook."

He tenses at that. "What about him?"

"I mean... I'm sorry. I should've told you that I was hooking up with him on a regular basis. It wasn't fair of me to keep that a secret from you while we were talking or on that date. What I did was wrong and I'm truly sorry. I never meant to hurt you, and that was truly my last intention. I guess I figured that if I told you would judge me. I mean, it's Jeon, your frat brother, of all people. And I complain about him 24/7- I'm rambling, I'm sorry. My point is I should've told you."

Yoongi shrugs. "What? You don't need to apologize."

Your brows furrow. "I don't?"

Yoongi shakes his head. "You and I aren't given a title or anything yet- hell, we only really went on one date. And if we aren't exclusive, you have the right to sleep with whoever you want. Even if it's Jungkook. What happens between the two of you isn't my business."

You blink at him in surprise. "So... you're not mad?"

He smiles lightly at that. "Nope."

"So... we're good then?"

"I think so."

"And you want to continue..."

"This?" His eyes lock with yours. "Definitely."

You lick your lips, smiling slightly to yourself at that. You open your mouth to say something, but it's at that moment Namjoon reappears from the storage closet, beaming to you.

"Oh, Y/N, I almost forgot!" He walked closer, unaware of the conversation you and Yoongi had just shared. "Would you mind helping us carry stuff into the frat house for the party? On Friday. We need a lot of help since a few of the guys are gonna be gone."

"The party this Friday?" you question, quirking a brow.

"You'd just have to help some of the guys carry the coolers and not spill the beer- it's nothing really," Namjoon assured you. "And your sorority is the sister house! Therefore it's kind of your responsibility as well."

You roll your eyes at that. "Fine, fine, I'll help."

"Great!" he cheers, patting your shoulder. "You need to get some more muscle anyway."

You gawk at that, and Yoongi only cackles.

-

"Xiyeon, I'm so sorry for how I treated you a few weeks ago. I was frustrated, angry, and overwhelmed. I got it in my mind that you'd replace me. Somehow you'd take Hoseok and become Y/N's best friend- I was just insecure. But it was wrong of me to lash it out on you," Lisa apologizes, her hands held in Xiyeon's.

The two of them had finally sat down to have a proper conversation face to face, talking about everything that had transpired between them. You were there to act as something of a mediator in case something went out of hand, but based on the glassy eyes and the way the two squeezed each other's hands, you guessed that wouldn't happen.

"Oh, Lisa, I'm so sorry. You were struggling with Hoseok and I worsened everything by sleeping with him. I might've been drunk but I still did it, and I know that hurt you deeply and put a strain on everyone's relationship. I was so stressed, the guilt was eating me alive. I should've told you straightaway, though," Xiyeon says, one of her hands slipping out of Lisa's to wipe away a tear, her lips trembling.

"No, I'm the one who's sorry. You suffered far more than you should've. You're innocent and you didn't mean for it to happen. But I can't forgive you," Lisa says softly.

Your head snaps up at that, and Xiyeon's face falls.

Lisa breaks out into a grin, though. "Because there's nothing to forgive. You don't need to apologize to me."

Xiyeon finally lets the tears cascade down her cheeks, throwing herself onto Lisa, hugging her tightly. The two of them clung to each other, gripping each other's clothes as they tried to pull the other closer. Their embrace was tight, and both of them were outright sobbing, their bodies shaking as they held each other in their arms.

You found the tender moment to be sweet. You cough awkwardly, though, making your prescence known. "I know this is a sweet moment and all- but it's pretty gay, so might want to warn Jin he's got competition," you snicker.

The two laugh at that, with Lisa slapping your arm.

You smile to yourself. Despite how many problems were within the group, and the guys that surrounded your life, you were always going to be content with your girls.

-

"Yoongi texted me. He says that he's running late due to traffic, but he'll be here later to help," Namjoon tells you, looking down at his phone.

You nod in response, shrugging. "That's fine. Just tell him where I am and to come and find me. Where do you want me to help anyway?"

"Jungkook's supposed to be rolling in any minute now with some coolers of beer- it'd be a great help if you helped him carry it inside," Namjoon said. His attention was soon diverted as someone else called for his attention, and you gave him a nod as a silent goodbye, stepping outside to the car.

It rolled up into the driveway- the crummy car that many of the guys used to run their errands. Jungkook parked it, stepping out as he opened the trunk. You step forward, creeping behind him.

"Hey, Jeon," you greet.

Jungkook seems to jump five feet in midair, and you can't help but cackle evilly seeing the expression on his face. "Dear God, woman! Don't just sneak up on me like that!"

You chuckle at how frazzled he still seems. "Namjoon told me to come here to help you carry some coolers inside. Probably because of those spaghetti arms of yours."

Jungkook scoffs. "Wow, sure. You, in comparison, look like those dancing things in front of car sales."

You give a mock-offended expression. "I'm insulted!"

"Yeah yeah. Help me with these coolers, then we'll really get to roasting each other."

You laugh at that, rolling your eyes. You're surprised, however, when Jungkook quickly leans in to catch your lips, cradling your face in his hands as he presses his mouth against yours. It isn't forceful or rough, and it lasts only for a second before he breaks away.

"What was that for?" you question, calm but confused.

"Am I not allowed to do that?" Jungkook asked, eyes wide with worry. "Did you not like it or something?"

"What? Yes, Jungkook, you're allowed to. And I liked it- I always do. My question is why you did it though," you ask him again, collecting your thoughts. You weren't mad at him in the slightest. In fact, you're smiling a bit, feeling the faint feeling of his lips against yours lingering.

"Oh." Jungkook thought for a moment, as though he weren't so sure himself. "I dunno. I just felt like kissing you I guess."

"Oh," you respond, wondering if you could read into his words a bit deeper.

Jungkook looks to you nervously. "Can I kiss you again?"

You chuckle, amused at how hesitant he seemed in comparison to how many things he had done with you sexually before. "Sure," you say. Jungkook's hand is on your cheek again, and he kisses you tenderly. You close your eyes, kissing him back, feeling yourself melt into the feeling.

You catch yourself for the briefest moments.

Pushing him away slightly, you shake your head. "We still have to do a job, Jeon."

"Oh- right!"

-

You wouldn't have thought it'd take half an hour to drag coolers inside. But you also didn't suspect them to weigh practically a ton. How the hell it was so heavy, you didn't know. But needless to say, once the very last one was slammed down onto the tile floor on the kitchen, you were a sweaty mess.

Jungkook was worn out as well, was panting, sitting down on the floor to lean against the kitchen cabinets.

You sit down next to him, sweaty. "Is this the part where we roast each other again?"

"Let me catch my breath first," Jungkook huffed, running his fingers through his hair.

You catch the glint of silver along the digits and quirk your brow. "Since when did you start wearing so many rings?"

"Oh- I just felt like it today. Damn things were digging into my fingers the entire time, though. I should've taken them off while we were getting those blasted coolers."

Your eyes linger on the rings, concentrated on the veiny hand from the workout, and the long digits decorated by metal. Jungkook seems to notice how your gaze lingers for a second too long, because soon he's licking his lips, staring at you with the same expression.

"Want to... take a break?"

-

Jungkook's tongue traveled along the slope of your neck, his lips sucking tenderly to form bruises along your skin. Your back was firmly pressed against his chest as you arched yourself into his touch, his rough hands kneading your breasts. You whimpered, spreading your legs, your skirt opening further to reveal the lacy underwear you had hidden underneath.

"Mm, does my babygirl like being touched here?" Jungkook questioned, mumbling the words into the crook of your neck as his fingers pinched the sensitive buds, hard as pebbles in his hands as he toyed with them.

"Yes," you say breathily, opening your droopy eyes as you looked to the door you were facing, trying to recall whether or not you had remembered to lock it. Your mind was hazy, however, when Jungkook's hands slid down your shirt, riding over your skirt to lift it up and slide your panties off your legs. The cold rings glided along your skin, and you shivered at his touch as you kicked off the cotton, his fingers reaching down to your heat. The cold metal contrasting with the warmth made you gasp despite yourself, and Jungkook petted at your folds, his fingers now glistening with your fluids.

"What about here?" Jungkook questioned slyly, pinching your clit, having you shudder and arch against him as he continued to toy at it, rubbing it carefully and slowly, though the pressure had you rolling your eyes back.

"God, Jungkook, please don't stop," you say, leaning back, craning your face to look at him. His lips collided against yours, devouring each whimper and moan that cascaded from your lips.

The door swung open to reveal Yoongi, and before you can curse yourself for forgetting to lock the door, his eyes are planted on the scene before him. Your cheeks turn crimson, and you snap your legs together, feeling utterly humiliated to be caught in the act by Yoongi no less. You opened your mouth to explain through embarrassed stammers and apologies, but Jungkook beat you to the chase. His hand, still caught between your thighs, moved lower to roughly thrust into you, two digits curling inside. You groaned before you could even bite your lip, feeling him move his fingers within you, the cold metal inside of you making you even more sensitive to his ministrations.

"Hey Yoongs," Jungkook says casually as though he weren't fingering you at the moment. He grins, licking his lips. "Nice of you to join us."

You look at him in alarm, but as he hits your g-spot and grinds the palm of his hand into your clit, you're unable to utter even a single sentence. "Spread your legs, babygirl. Let him see the view," Jungkook cooed. You hesitantly spread your legs apart, Jungkook's hand freeing itself from its grip on your breast to pry apart your legs, leaving you completely exposed to Yoongi's blank gaze. "Though, from what I know, he's already seen it, hasn't he?"

Yoongi looks darkly to Jungkook, his mouth pressed in a tight line. "Are you trying to rub something in my face, Jeon?"

Jungkook feigned innocence as you whimpered against him. "What do you mean? Don't act like you don't like seeing her like this. It's no secret you've had a thing for her. C'mon, I'm sure she can handle two at once, can't you babygirl?"

The question directed to you has you shudder and bite your lips, your gaze locking with Yoongi's. His expression is unreadable, and you think he's about to storm off and wants nothing to do with you. Instead, he surprises you, walking forward to crash his lips against yours roughly. It's more dominant and domineering than what you were used to him, but still, you welcomed it, kissing him back with equal urgency. Your mind was swimming, Jungkook's fingers slipping out of you to rub against your clit as his tongue brushed against the expanse of your neck, sucking harshly.

Yoongi got off of you for a moment, tugging at the hem of your shirt. "Off," he said simply, his voice gruff and raspy already.

You didn't hesitate, unwrapping Jungkook's arms from around you to pull the shirt off. You unclasp your bra for extra measure, feeling both of their lustful gazes ravish over you in nothing but a skirt.

Yoongi makes the first move, his hands fondling at your breasts as he sucks against the side of your neck, as though trying to conceal the forming bruises with his own, a sign of his own possessiveness that you hadn't seen from anyone other than Jeon.

Jungkook smirks at Yoongi from behind you. "Don't seem to be in such a bad mood anymore, do you?" he questioned.

Yoongi grunted in response, annoyed by the younger. "I can share for one night, dickhead."

Jungkook's fingers dip back down to your pussy, petting at the folds before sinking the two digits knuckle deep once again. "She's gotten even wetter since you walked in. She's dripping all over my hand like a slut."

"Must be excited to have two cocks at once," Yoongi grunts, his blunt nails digging into your breasts with a firm squeeze.

Your mind spins. The two of them seemed to work so well together, feeding off of each other in a comfortable manner, their words and movements like clockwork as they orchestrated with each other. You wondered how this was, and you remembered something Jeon had said but a little while before you two even started hooking up.

You tried to prevent the flaring of your cheeks- unwilling to admit to yourself that your small attraction to Yoongi had led to racy thoughts that had nothing to do with radio mixes or CDs. But you weren't going to let an asshole like Jungkook get to you. "Even if he did, he'd probably to better than your lame excuse of a dick."

"Really?" He quirked a brow, and you knew instantly that you said the wrong thing. "Because I can assure you that isn't exactly the case. Yoongi and I had this friend, and she wanted to spend some time with us- Yoongi's alright, I suppose, but I'm-"

"Knock it off kid, no one wants to hear about how the two of you spit roasted Kyulkyung," Hoseok said, grabbing onto the collar of Jungkook's shirt and yanking back, an annoyed look on his face. Everyone here was way too used to Jungkook trying to get under your skin- it had become quite the norm.

Jungkook shrugged, that annoying smirk remaining as he looked to the elder. "What? I'm just trying to help Y/N. Lord knows she'll need some good masturbation material when she fails to get laid tonight."

It clicked. No wonder Yoongi didn't show much reaction. It probably wasn't the first time he walked in on Jungkook with another girl and was invited to join in. And it was also no wonder he knew how to use such a filthy mouth, seeing as he was spit roasting girls with Jeon.

Yoongi's tongue slipped into your mouth, and the wet muscles twirled around one another, moving at a rhythm only you two knew.

Jungkook hissed. "She's clenching down so hard on my fingers, Yoongs."

Yoongi hummed, removing his forceful lips from your own to allow you to breathe. His hands remove themselves from your breasts to grab at your face, one squeezing your chin tightly. "Seems like we've got a greedy one this time, then, hm?" Yoongi hummed, amusement lacing his voice.

Your cheeks flushed at his words, and you clenched down harder on Jungkook, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he moved his fingers inside you more, loving the way you instinctively squeezed around the digits.

"Y'know, she wouldn't stop teasing me about how you gave better head," Jungkook mentioned casually, admiring how rosy your cheeks turned. "I begged to differ- but maybe it was because I didn't see it in person. Care to demonstrate?"

Yoongi smirks at you, tilting your chin up so that you had no other choice than to stare him in the eye. "Awe, you said that I gave you good head? Better than Jeon, baby?" Yoongi cooes. You shift your gaze to the floor, but he redirects your head. "I asked you a question, answer."

Jungkook's hand slides out of you, and both turn to squeeze your hips hard enough you think they'll bruise. "He asked you a question, babygirl. Yoongi's got a short fuse sometimes."

You're one to talk, you think to yourself. You don't dare to say it aloud, however, knowing full and well you'll bend to their every whim and wish. "Yes," you say clearly.

Yoongi gives your cheek a light pat, giving you a grin of satisfaction. "Cute."

Jungkook tsked as Yoongi starts pulling your skirt off and draping it down your legs. "Don't get cocky, now."

"Apparently you don't give her good enough head- I feel like I have every right to be cocky," Yoongi bites back, descending down your body. He tugs you closer to the edge of the bed, and he kneels on the floor. Your legs are on the edge of the bed, and Jungkook scoots behind you, supporting you as you lean against his chest. Yoongi spreads your legs further, having them lay flat against the bed, your naked cunt exposed to him, glistening with your juices.

"Why don't you teach me, then?" Jungkook suggests, his voice a quiet hum. "I want to see how she squirms for you."

"I'll have her fucking my tongue in no time," Yoongi grunts, his hands digging into your thighs, red marks already beginning to form. He licks a stripe along your slit, tongue gathering fluids from between your folds as it drags up to the sensitive clit, adding a small twirl for finesse to have you shiver.

"Shit," you say, biting your lower up at the sensation, Yoongi attaching his lips to your cunt now, sucking nimbly as he warms you up with his tongue. The blood rushes down, the heat making you feel as if you were in a sweltering room.

Yoongi stares up at you as he stares up into your eyes, his tongue lapping at your folds, dark and piercing, studying you carefully. You felt as though the tension was too much, and quickly turn away, squirming as he sucks harshly at your clit. Jungkook doesn't tolerate any of it, however, grabbing onto the back of your head, gathering a thick chunk of hair before forcing you to look down at Yoongi. "Watch him fuck you with his tongue," Jungkook says, his voice a deep growl as he rasps in your ear. "I want you to see how he properly eats out a slut."

You curse quietly under your breath, your eyes trained on Yoongi, and you feel him smile against you before traveling lower again, not wanting you to reach your release so quickly. His tongue laps at your entrance, the copious amount of fluids covering his taste buds. Lewd sounds fill the room, and there's not much you can do to conceal your moans.

Soon he's tracing two fingers around your entrance, sliding them in easily with absolutely no resistance, the slick covering his fingers as he crooks them up into your g-spot. You gasp aloud as he repeatedly curls his fingers in a come-hither motion, harshly sucking at your clit. You can hear each lap of his tongue against your pussy, and the sounds make you squirm against him, biting your lip as you instinctively buck into his fingers, riding his face.

"Add another finger," Jungkook suggests, staring down at your exposed cunt as well. "She's taking two cocks tonight- she'll have to be stretched out properly."

Yoongi does as Jungkook says, adding a not just a third digit, but a fourth as well, your walls squeezing around the fingers as they stretch further to accommodate him. Jungkook's right, though. You'd definitely get more than just four fingers tonight. And you were looking forward to it.

"You like the idea of having two cocks lodged in that tight cunt of yours, at the same time?" Jungkook purrs in your ear, his words dark and laced with lust. His pupils are blown out with just at just the thought. "You'll be so stretched out, babygirl. Your greedy little pussy won't get enough. A slut like you can barely be sated with one dick, hm?"

"Fuck, I want both of you inside me," you moan, your mind spinning at the thought of having both of them fucking your pussy at the same time. Not just one in your pussy and the other in your ass, but both of them stretching you out and filling you out to the brim, their cocks pressed against each other as they manage to squeeze into your convulsing walls. And once both of them came in you, you'd be so full, and copious amount of cum would be leaking down your legs and smeared over your pussy, despite how deep they spill into your womb. The image was the hottest thing you could think of.

Yoongi thrusts his fingers inside of you, his tongue swirling around your clit, milking you for all you were worth in order to get you to cum on his tongue. Your hips seemed to move on their own as you rutted your hips into his fingers and tongue, the friction of his tongue against you making your movements almost animalistic.

Suddenly Yoongi removed his mouth from your cunt, pulling back, though his fingers continued to pump into you. However, your orgasm soon began to die down, only at that teasing amount of pressure that had you yearning for more. "You don't get to cum until we say you can," Yoongi says gruffly, dark eyes glazing over you.

You bit your lower lip, eyes pleading. "Yoongi, please?"

Yoongi looks up to Jungkook, their eyes locking.

You turn to Jungkook, craning your neck. "Jungkook, please, c'mon!" You weren't used to being teased like this. The last time Jungkook did it to you, you were furious.

Jungkook shrugged, a smile plastered over his face, however, to see you begging. "Yoongi's rules, not mine."

"Use your big girl words, baby," Yoongi suggested, a deliberate thrust with his fingers that had you arching your back against Jeon's back. "What do you want?"

"I want you to make me cum on your tongue," you blurted out, cheeks becoming flushed once again.

Yoongi grinned deviously at that. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" he says huskily, his hot breath fanning over your heat before he connects his mouth against your cunt, sucking on the clit until the rapid pace of his fingers and harsh sucks had you cumming on his face, your hips jerking in mid-air to the point that Jungkook had to pin them down.

Yoongi didn't stop, however, his tongue continuing to lap at your clit as you squirmed, cringing from the overstimulation.

"Don't stop, Yoongi," Jungkook encouraged, keeping your legs spread apart to prevent you from caging Yoongi between them. "Get her to cum again."

Yoongi obeyed, his tongue continuing to suck tenderly at your engorged clit, and you felt tears prick the corner of your eyes. You felt the pain and pleasure blossom throughout your core, and your fingers tugged at Yoongi's locks, trying to push him away, but he stayed firmly in place until you were outright sobbing, your second orgasm taking control as you shake.

You're limp in Jungkook's arms, panting as you collapse against his chuckling form. Still, you know in the back of your mind that it is far from the end of the night.

"Aren't you going to say thank you, babygirl? Yoongi worked hard," Jungkook cooed, fingers threading through your hair.

You couldn't form proper sentences, however, your lips not moving.

"He asked you to answer, baby," Yoongi says darkly, leaning over you.

Your legs slowly close, and your hazy mind struggles to think of what words you should form. You're too late, however, as Jungkook and Yoongi exchange a knowing glance. Jungkook reaches for your legs, prying them apart, spreading them once more as Yoongi's hand went down to slap your cunt.

You jolted upright, fully alert, tears at the corners of your eyes as you yelped. Yoongi looked irritated, and you remember the bit about him having a bit of a short fuse. You feel guilty for being too lazy to even respond, and now you were paying the price.

"Fuck, Yoongi, I-"

"That's not what I want to hear, baby," Yoongi tsks, his hand slapping down to your cunt, watching you jerk at the sharp pain.

He holds one of your legs in place as he repeatedly smacks your pussy, hearing your whimpers. You cry, tilting your head back onto Jungkook's shoulder as you endure the pain, but he has none of it. He grabs onto a chunk of your hair, forcing you to look down as Yoongi landed another harsh smack against your pussy. "I want you to say thank you every time he slaps your pussy, cockslut."

Yoongi landed a hard slap against your cunt, making you jerk and jolt in Jungkook's grasp, your eyes trained on how you quivered at Yoongi's sharp blow. "Thank you," you whimper quietly.

Yoongi smacked your pussy once again. "Louder," he commanded.

"Thank you!" you speak clearly, voice daring to go to a rather normal level of volume. Yoongi doesn't seem satisfied, however, another blow following, as though he was intent on making you scream. Your lips quivered, and Jungkook's fist squeezed tighter, tugging at your scalp as your eyes stung. "Thank you!" you say, your voice shaky as you yelled it.

Yoongi patted against your cunt, fingers brushing through your folds as he leaned in, tongue messily moving with your own. "Good girl," he purred. "I think it's time you get fucked, isn't that right?"

Your watery eyes lock with his gaze, and you nod. Jungkook let's go of you, scooting back as he drags you back towards the center of the bed. Yoongi follows, quirking a brow to Jungkook. "You fuck her first- make her fucking cry," he suggests.

Jungkook grins at that, dragging his pants down his legs along with his briefs. He pulls you closer into his lap, spreading his legs as he lifts you to sit on his erect cock. "Gladly," he says to Yoongi. "Sit on my cock, Y/N. I want you to face Yoongi while I fuck you."

You're obedient, like putty in his hands as you lift your hips, reaching behind you to grab his dick, aligning it with your entrance before sinking down onto it. You let out a hiss, and Jungkook wraps his arms around you, jerking his hips up to buck into you, deep thrusts.

You gasp aloud, Jungkook's grip firm to make sure you don't fall off as he aggressively rams into you, hitting so deep to the point there's a hint of pain along with the pleasure. You struggle to stay upright as he bottoms out into you each time, his dick appearing and disappearing with each thrust. Your tits bounce wildly, and Yoongi's eyes glaze over your wrecked form with pure lust.

"Toy with yourself, baby," Yoongi suggests. "I want to see you fuck yourself on his dick."

You don't hesitate, your hands kneading at your breasts, the pebbled nipples pressing into your palms as you rubbed them against your hands, pinching and toying with them as you stared Yoongi in the eye. You bite your lip, preventing moans, though low grunts still emit from your mouth.

Jungkook reaches forward, lodging three fingers inside of your pussy to stretch you out further as he thrusts into you. "Still so tight. We'll barely be able to fit our cocks in you, babygirl," Jungkook grunts, the squelching sounds filling the room. "Don't worry; we'll make it fit."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you're panting, brows furrowing as you focus on the pleasure at hand. The heel of Jungkook's palm digs into your clit, and you're not able to do much more than let out a silent scream as he continues to abuse your body, still fucking himself into your pussy.

Your face contorts, legs beginning to wobble. "I don't think I can cum again, Jungkook, please."

"You're gonna be cumming on our cocks a lot more than this, baby," Yoongi cooed, glancing to Jungkook, which made the other man dig his palm harder against your clit, making you crumble against him. "Have to make sure you're properly fucked out, don't we?"

"Mmf," you grunt, biting onto your lip as you tilt your head back, trying not to cum again, not sure how much more you could take so quickly.

"Shit, I don't want to cum inside her just yet," Jungkook says, slowing down until he was still inside of you. He unwrapped his arms from around you, lifting you off of him. You let out a breath of relief, absolutely relieved and grateful, panting with a mind at ease until his next sentence. "Yoongs, you haven't hooked up with anyone since we spit roasted Kyulkyung, have you? I mean, last time I checked."

Yoongi furrowed his brows. "What? I haven't hooked up with anyone since then- I mean, other than Y/N."

Jungkook let out a breath of relief, looking to you. "He and I got tested afterward and came out clean. And if what he says is true, he's still clean."

"Where are you going with this?" Yoongi deadpanned. "Of course I'm clean."

Jungkook grinned, smacking your ass cheekily. "Fuck her pussy. I'll fuck her mouth in a bit."

You look back to Yoongi. "I thought you didn't want to have sex, Yoongi?"

Yoongi's eyes are dark, and he steps forward, grabbing you by the hips roughly, jerking you towards him as you fall on all fours. He raises your hips, your ass in the air as he smacks his hand against your ass, squeezing your cheek as he did so, the blunt fingernails digging into your skin to shut you up. "I changed my mind," he grunted.

"You haven't fucked her, yet?" Jungkook asked, confused, the information new to him. It morphs into a cocky grin, however. "You're missing out, Yoongs. Tightest, wettest pussy I've ever fucked. Keeps me coming back for more."

Yoongi only grunts in response, and you hear him taking off his pants. Soon enough the blunt heat is pressing against your entrance, and he's sinking into you. He bottoms out with a rough jerk, trying to press himself as deep as possible into your womb. You groan at the feeling, but he doesn't give you time to adjust, bucking his hips against you. His fingers dig into your cheeks, spreading them apart so that he can watch as his cock appears and disappears inside of you. Your slick juices cover his shaft, and it glistens in the light before he plunges himself back into you.

Jungkook squeezes the base of his cock, which is an angry shade of red, and soon enough he's grabbing your hair again, your head previously pressed firmly into the mattress to suppress your moans. He grabs at your chin, forcing your mouth open as he lodges his cock into your mouth. "Suck," he commands as you straighten yourself up. You obey, letting your tongue twirl around the head before he sinks lower, bottoming out into your throat. Your eyes water at the intrusion, and you screw them shut, your nose buried in his pubic hair.

Jungkook's hand wraps around your throat, preventing you from getting any air without his consent. He grunts, dragging his cock out before slamming his hips into your face once again, and he can feel the way his dick plunges into your throat, the walls contracting around the girth as you struggle to take him in as Yoongi continues to pound into you.

"She's taking our dicks like a champ," Jungkook chuckles, his other hand lodged in your hair as his mischevious eyes lock with your watery ones, and he sinks you as far down onto his cock until your nose is squished against his pelvic bone.

"Guess the whore likes getting spit roasted- she's still so wet," Yoongi grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic.

"Put your thumb in her ass and rub her clit. She'll cum hard within five minutes," Jungkook suggests, jerking his hips back before hitting the back of your throat again, all of the breath knocked out of you once again.

Yoongi spreads your cheeks further, spitting on the muscled rim before plunging his thumb inside. Your eyes seem to roll back at the feeling of having both holes filled, and it doesn't help when his fingers expertly pinch at your clit, toying with you as you continued to clench and clamp down on his dick.

"Shit, she's squeezing around me like a fucking vice," Yoongi hisses, rubbing you faster.

Jungkook chuckles in response, "She'll try to milk you for all you're worth. Cockslut is so greedy for cum- isn't that right?" He pulls out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting the head of his dick to your lips briefly before breaking off. He stops squeezing your throat, and you cough and sputter for air.

"Yes," you manage to gasp out, your voice raspy already. "I want to be filled up- please."

"Hear that?" Jungkook laughs mockingly. "She wants to be our personal cum dumpster. Pathetic, isn't it?"

"Careful what you wish for, baby," Yoongi responds, a harsh thrust that has you knocked over so far that your head bucks into Jungkook's abs, pressing against it firmly.

"Fuck, I'm cum-" You're unable to say much more, tears streaming down your face as Yoongi rubs your clit harder, and you're shaking. You feel yourself squirt all over the sheets, Yoongi's rapidly moving fingers now getting soaked in your cum as you thoroughly soaked them.

"Shit, I didn't know she was a squirter," Yoongi hisses, biting his lip as he sees you shake beneath him like a leaf.

Jungkook grins. "She does it a lot. She can't get enough. Don't worry, though, I'm sure we can make her do it again before the end of the night."

"Fuck yes. Such a messy girl," Yoongi smirks, stilling his fingers finally.

"Pull out, Yoongs. I think it's about time both of us take her," Jungkook suggests, licking his chapped lips.

Yoongi's thumb leaves your ass and he pulls out of you. You whine at the feeling of being empty, but Yoongi lays down, patting his thigh for you to hop back on. You're more eager than you'd care to admit, sinking down on him. He lays flat on the mattress, hissing as you sink back down onto him. He grabs your face once he bottoms out into you, and he brings your head down, crashing your lips against his in a passionate and heated kiss. He bucks his hips up into you at a steady pace, your tongues pressing together, your face kept in his grip, your chests pressed against each other in a sense of intimacy.

Based on your relationship with Yoongi so far, this was how you would've assumed your first time with him would've been. It would've been close, intimate. Probably not as wild and rough as Jungkook was, but not vanilla. You were it'd have the two of you rocking against each other, hips moving in a languid motion, staring into each other's eyes as corny as it seemed, with his arms caging you into an embrace that kept your chests pressed against each other.

It wasn't until you feel rough hands spread your cheeks apart that you're yanked back into the reality that your first time with Yoongi was far from what you originally thought it'd be. But you couldn't deny the fact that the experience was probably already ten times better.

Yoongi's hips slow their pace, stilling inside of you as Jungkook spits on the part where your and Yoongi's bodies connect. Your juices are still covering Yoongi's length, and dripping down your own thighs still. Jungkook's blunt head rubs against the slick surrounding your entrance, and soon enough he's pushing into you, inch by inch. You gasp, grasping onto Yoongi as he keeps you caged against his chest. You feel yourself stretch to accommodate Jungkook's length, and before you realize it his legs spread further as he mounts you, bottoming out.

"I told you this slut could take two cocks at once," Jungkook grunts, though his typically seductive voice is shaky. "Fuck, so tight. Your slutty pussy is just sucking me in, babygirl."

"Oh my God," Yoongi says, sweat dribbling down his temples, and it's clear that he is trying hard to concentrate and control himself. "Shit, fuck, it's..." He trails off, unable to properly describe what he's trying to say.

"Are you ok, babygirl?" Jungkook questions.

You nod, biting your lip, concentrating on the pleasurable stretch of having two cocks in your pussy at one time. "Move, please."

As though on cue, both men begin to buck their hips, their thrusts sloppy and restricted, though the stretch was pleasurable. The way they bucked into you had you moaning the entire time, and you absolutely loved the feeling of being filled. Slowly, though they didn't have much room for movements, both men were pumping themselves into you, and you tried to prevent yourself from clenching down on them with your vice-like grip.

"Mmf, such a good little slut for me," Yoongi groans, shoving his tongue down your throat as he grips your thighs, spreading them as far as they could go as he pumped himself into you.

Jungkook grunted in response, making you shake like a leaf as he presses his thumb against the puckered rim, slipping it in once again to add to the sensation. He slowly pumped it into you as he growled at Yoongi. "Funny you say that when she's got another man's cock in her pussy."

Yoongi rolled his eyes in response, delivering a brutal thrust into you. His hands stop gripping your thighs, managing to squirm between your two bodies, rubbing at your clit. "I'm close, baby, come on."

"Fuck," you say, the feeling of being so full practically unbelievable.

"Make sure all of her holes are filled," Jungkook retaliated as you clamped down on both of their cocks, Yoongi's friction against your clit causing you to squirm as they continued to thrust into you. Jungkook's free hand reached forward, thrusting four fingers into your mouth, some of the drool slipping down beside Yoongi's head and onto the bedsheets as you gagged around the thick digits. "A good cockslut puts every hole to good use."

"Fucking shit-" Yoongi said, his thrusts getting sloppier. "I'm gonna cum."

Your moan was suppressed, Jungkook's fingers devouring every little whimper as he continued to ram into you, but you couldn't miss the sensation of Yoongi flooding your pussy, the hot ropes of cum coating your walls, hitting deep where the head was buried deep into your womb, letting the cum cover both of the cocks that were bottomed out inside of you. Jungkook definitely seemed to be affected by the sensation as well, muttering curses and instinctively thrusting hard, his hip bones burying and bruising into your ass as he buried himself as deep as possible into your filled womb.

"Fuck, you filled her up so good. I can feel how much cum there is," Jungkook grunts, beginning to ram into you again, his movements unrestricted now and quick, Yoongi's cum acting as a sloppy form of lube as he was able to move even more freely inside of you. From the pace of Jungkook drilling into you, you could feel your juices and Yoongi's cum dribbling out of your entrance, dripping down your swollen lips, the hot liquid making you shiver at the sensation.

"Rub her clit, make her cum on our cocks," Jungkook growls, his voice low as he has to bite down onto your shoulder. You feel his dick twitch against Yoongi's softening one, and you know he's close. Yoongi picks back up the pace, his nimble fingers furiously rubbing against you to reawaken your high. You couldn't even count how much you had cum so far today, and you let out a silent scream, though it's concealed from Jungkook's fingers. You feel yourself spasm and shake, weak and numb as Jungkook rams into you senselessly. He grips your jaw tight, fingers flat against your tongue as he buries himself impossibly deep into you, at last, his dick against your cervix. You feel it twitch inside you before he erupts, cumming inside of you. You don't know if it's because of Yoongi's cum already being inside of you, but there's so much cum, you feel yourself overflowing.

Jungkook pants, pulling out of you, and Yoongi follows suit. You roll over on your back, chest heaving, cum already dripping out of you, the white drops of semen splattered along your folds, while a small stream of white cum drips down your cheeks to spill onto the sheets.

"You've stained my sheets, babygirl," Jungkook chuckled, dragging you closer to the edge of the bed. "I'm gonna have to clean up that slutty pussy of yours."

"Jungkook, I'm too sensitive," you protest, but Jungkook pays no heed, blowing cold air on your clit to make you shiver.

"You don't want to be a mess, do you? Someone's got to clean up our precious little cum dumpster," Jungkook mumbles before licking a stripe of cum from along your folds. You see the white liquid lay on his tongue before he swallows it, licking his lips afterward. You shuddered from the sensation, and Jungkook turns to Yoongi. "Hey Yoongs, want to help me clean her up?"

"Sure," Yoongi says, grabbing one of your legs to spread them apart, laying it flat against the mattress. Jungkook does the same, your glistening and sloppy cunt before them. Both of them turn to devour your heat, their heads buried between your legs. Yoongi focuses on your clit and folds, while Jungkook laps more so at your entrance, devouring the copious amount of cum you squeezed out as your walls convulsed and squirmed under Yoongi's ministrations against your throbbing clit. The engorged nub has endured so much abuse during this whole ordeal, and your tears haven't even dried yet, being repainted to stain your skin.

Jungkook's lips popped off of you with a lewd pop, and he plunges two fingers into your entrance, more of the cum and juices spilling out for him to eat. It isn't until he licks every drop that he finishes, and Yoongi puts an end to your torture.

Jungkook grins to you, seeing how wrecked you were. He grabs at your chin, and you're limp under his hold, having no further strength. "Look how wrecked she is," he cooed, glancing to Yoongi. "I think she's been properly fucked out, don't you?"

Yoongi licks his lips, sitting down next to you. He nips at your earlobe and hums in agreement. Jungkook holds your mouth open, spitting on your tongue before crashing his lips messily to yours. He pries his lips off of yours, and Yoongi tilts your chin so that you face him, and he does the same, crashing his lips against yours.

You're tired and aching, and the two men take mercy on you, chuckling to themselves as they call an end to your delicious torture.

-

The party is in full swing, and you're in a tight dress that Lisa had somehow squeezed you into. You were dancing with Xiyeon and Lisa- the latter celebrating the fact she had just gone on her second date with the now famous Jin, something you and Xiyeon were equally ecstatic about.

You didn't have a drink the whole night, but Lisa had been pounding shot after shot. Xiyeon was practically babysitting her at this point, having had only one beer so far.

You spot Hoseok in the corner of the room. He must've just gotten back from visiting his sister. He's staring in your direction. More specifically, Lisa's.

"I'm gonna get a drink!" You shout to the girls.

"Stay safe, baby!" Lisa crows, laughing hysterically.

You squeeze past the crowd, walking towards Hoseok. He doesn't notice that you're walking to him, his gaze focused still on Lisa. When Hoseok finally sees you, he seems startled.

"Please don't tell me that you're gonna lunge after me again," Hoseok begs, though his voice is laced with genuine fear.

You wave him off. "I'm over it. So is Lisa, for that matter. I'm not gonna lunge at you."

Hoseok sighed. "Yeah, heard a bit about that."

"Jealous?" you ask, quirking a brow. You were only curious.

He shakes his head. "I was her friend before I was her lover. I want her happiness first. If he gives her the happiness I failed to, then I'm content."

You're momentarily stunned at that moment. "That's really mature of you, Hobi."

Hoseok grins, placing his palm on the top of your head, ruffling your locks. "I can be at times. When I feel like it."

"Well, I'm gonna get a drink. See you later?" you ask. He gives you a nod, and you turn, only to bump into someone.

Dahyun spills a bit of her beer on the floor, and you curse, apologizing.

"Oh, fuck, I didn't mean to bump into you-" You begin.

"Wait- you're the girl from the date I had with Jungkook," Dahyun recalls.

You freeze. "Oh, uh, yeah. I am."

"God, that day was absolutely horrible," Dahyun mutters. "Which is absolutely ridiculous, considering the fact that after giving up on pursuing him, he asks me out, and then blows over the entire date!"

You furrow your brows. "What do you mean? Was the date bad?"

"Don't get me started," she says, rolling her eyes. "The entire film he's not even paying attention. He's all irritated and doesn't pay attention to me- and suddenly in the middle of it he gets up and leaves. Ten minutes later he's back and pissed and drives me home. I didn't even get to finish the movie. And I shaved my legs and everything."

You're stunned at that. "I'm sorry to hear that." Did Jungkook run after you and Yoongi when you bolted from the theater?

"Yeah. It's whatever, though, I suppose," Dahyun sighs.

"I should, um, go," you say, quickly leaving. Your mind is muddled, and you think to what she had just said. You scurry towards your two friends, Xiyeon dragging a rambunctious Lisa to the couch.

"What's up with you? Where'd you head?" Xiyeon questioned, glancing over your figure.

"Do you remember that girl I told you that Jungkook went on a date with? When I ran into him while I was with Yoongi?" you question, the words tumbling from your lips.

"Dasha?" Lisa asked.

"Dahyun," you corrected. "I just ran into her."

"Did you sock her in the nose?" Lisa burst out, bawling her hands into fists as she squinted, throwing a few sucker punches in the air playfully.

"Why would I do that?" you ask.

"You seemed to hate her a lot. Though that probably would've been because you were jealous of her," Xiyeon shrugged.

"Why would I be jealous of her going out with Jungkook?" you scoffed.

Xiyeon's eyes locked with yours. "Who said anything about Jungkook?"

She had you there. You feel yourself freeze, and Lisa cackles, pinching your cheek playfully. "C'mon, you can't deny it anymore, it's written on your face! You totally like Jeon- you're even blushing!"

"You are kind of obvious, Y/N," Xiyeon admits. "You get jealous of other girls over him, you're way more fond of him, you let yourself get a lot closer... You're just scared because it's the closest thing you've had to anything stable since your ex. The one you told me about who left?"

You gnaw your inner cheek. Did you really like Jungkook? Was what they were saying true? You thought back to how words stung when Jungkook said something, or how it'd flutter the next. You had such intense reactions to whatever he did, and somehow you always came running back for more.

There really was only one conclusion you could come to.

"Let's say I do like Jungkook," you test, refusing to meet their eye despite the way they grinned towards one another. "What would I even do? We're just having casual sex, this would ruin it. He doesn't even do relationships."

"C'mon, Jeon totally has it bad for you! If he'd make an exception for anyone, it'd most likely be you," Lisa gushed, squealing with excitement. "You've got to go for it!"

"It could ruin things," you say.

"I thought that too with Hobi. It gnawed at my insides. You don't want to carry that burden of keeping a secret. He'd deserve to know anyway, and it wouldn't be fair to him if you weren't honest. You have to try, otherwise you may regret not doing it sooner," Lisa said softly.

"She might be drunk, but she's right," Xiyeon nods. "Just look at what happened to Lisa. If you think you can endure that suffering, go ahead. But it might seem a bit hypocritical, seeing as how you reacted to her situation."

Xiyeon had a good point.

You let out a breath, making up your mind. "Ok. I'll do it."

Lisa's eyes lit up. "Really?!"

You nodded. "Someone get me a shot before I change my mind. I can't do this without a little alcohol in my system."

Xiyeon scurries away to get the shot, and Lisa throws her arms around you to pull you into a tight hug. "I'm so proud of you, Y/N," she says, lips trembling. "You're learning from my mistakes."

"Yeah," you say, nodding, praying to yourself you wouldn't become another Lisa. Xiyeon comes back, handing you a shot glass, which you down in one. It tastes like utter shit, and your lips sting, but it was most definitely worth it. You look around, trying to see if you could find the pink haired man anywhere.

"Over there!" Lisa points, Jungkook entering the room, beer in hand.

You feel so scared. You could feel your heart beating in your throat, the pounding in your ears. Your vision got blurry and your fingers were shaky, but you made a beeline towards him. Bravery wasn't marching towards something without an ounce of fear- it was going face to face with something you were deathly afraid of.

You didn't feel so brave, however, when you stepped before him.

"Hi," you manage to croak out, licking your lip, cursing at how off your voice sounds already.

Jungkook raises a brow, smiling to you. "Hey, Y/N- I was just looking for you. Would you like to... I dunno, hang out upstairs?"

You understand his proposal for hooking up but shake it away. "Actually, we need to talk."

Jungkook's face falls with one of concern, his mind flitting to worst case scenarios. "Uh oh. Is it bad?"

"No- well, depends- wait, I mean no," you clarify, jittery. "I'm not going to call off what we've got going on if that's what you're thinking."

Jungkook lets out a breath of relief. "Oh, thank God."

"Yeah..." you nervously chuckle. You feel a lump in your throat, and attempt to swallow it down. "The thing is, I need to tell you something."

"Go ahead. Shoot," Jungkook says nonchalantly.

You suck in a deep breath. You feel as though you're sweating from every pore in your body. Was the room spinning? It felt like it was spinning. You never felt this vulnerable or out of control in a long, long time.

"I'm just going to go right out and say it before I lose my nerve- Jeon, I like you. A lot. I know it's weird and it's not what we agreed on and it conflicts with everything but... it happened. And as much as I tried to push it down and ignore it and distract myself, I always found myself running back to you. Despite the fact that you can be cocky, or obnoxious, or unpredictable- you're so much more as well. You're considerate, passionate, complex- and I want each and every part of that. Of you. I think I've wanted that for a long time now."

Jungkook is still, soaking in your words. "Are you drunk?" he quietly asks.

Not the response you were looking for. You shake your head. "I only took one shot the entire night. I'm completely sober."

Jungkook sucks in a breath. "Ah, ok. I..."

You bite your lower lip nervously, gnawing at it. "You...?"

"I'm sorry."

You felt your blood run cold and you wanted nothing more than to turn back the hands of time.

"I think we should end this."

You feel your heart plummet to your stomach, and it's as though someone tied weights to your arms, dragging you down to the floor. A cloud hung over your head, and you were paralyzed and helpless, only staring him in the eye.

He avoided your gaze. "This... this can't continue. It won't work out. You and I could never work out. You and I... that's something we can never be. Friends maybe. It was nice being friends with you. But... I'm sorry."

There's a pause of silence between the two of you the air tense.

You feel tears brimming your eyes, and your vision is blurry. The last thing you want was for him to watch you cry. You manage to choke on your tears, trying to contain them, though your throat swells despite your efforts. "Yeah, sure. We can stay friends." Neither of you missed how your voice cracks.

Jungkook gives you a sympathetic look, reaching out for you. "Y/N-"

Your lips tremble. The way he says your name- without a tone of teasing or familiarity- instead it sounds as though it's clipped like he was calling out for a stranger. "I should go." Your rush words are curt and broken, strained as you tried to choke them out clearly enough for him to even be able to decipher what you were trying to push out.

His fingers grip onto your shoulder, and you both tense. You freeze, eyes glassy as you look back to him, slowly gripping onto his fingers, knowing it could very well be the last time you did so. Your hand trembles as you slowly push his hand away, and he gulps, staring at the movement until it slips off. He lets it hang loose, danging by his side.

He doesn't know what to say, you know that. But at the same time, he's said all he needs to. You got the message- and there was no way for you to misinterpret it.

"I'm so sorry," he says one last time, his voice barely above a whisper.

You don't respond, moving away as quickly as you could. Tears slipped down your cheeks, and there is no doubt in your mind that there are black streaks on your face from your mascara. You quickly swipe them away, knowing full and well there would be gawking. Seeing you cry of all people. Some would probably pat Jungkook on the back for finally breaking the Ice Queen.

You thought back to everything that had happened between the two of you, memories swimming in your head. How he kissed you tenderly when he saw you arriving to help him with the coolers, to how he made a point to sit next to you to whisper jokes under his breath, only for you to roll your eyes. How he slept next to you, only keeping you company and comforting you when you ran into the two people who contributed the most to who you were today.  To how he softly asked if you would go public with him, to how he ran after you when you ditched the movie. You could still feel his arms cradling you when you were sobbing in the cafe, having told Taehyung to leave, and Jungkook asking no questions to simply hold your shaking form. More tears slipped down your cheeks when you remembered being in the bathtub with him, his words cheeky and annoying as always. How he introduced you to his parents, believing you were so different- the good different. When he joked with your niece and gave you a ticket to- God, it was too much. You couldn't handle it. You misread all of it- and you were the one left to be the fool from how you misinterpreted every little gesture to mean something far more.

But you were wrong. Jungkook didn't like you. He never would. And maybe it was because he didn't date- but that didn't line up. He went on a date with Dahyun, didn't he? What did she have that you didn't?

Maybe that was it.

There was something wrong with you. It made sense- especially looking back on your history with Taehyung.

Jungkook saw the same thing Taehyung did.

You weren't good enough.

You bolt to your friends as quickly as you could, their blurred forms clearing once the tears fell down your cheeks. They don't see how wrecked you are yet, naturally assuming that it went fine. Lisa grinned. "How'd it go-"

You slam into her and Xiyeon, wrapping your arms around them so they'd support you, sobbing into their shoulders. They knew within a second exactly what had happened, and their expressions fell as quickly as yours.

Lisa pried your arms off of her, wrenching them aside. Her glazed eyes showed fury, and she was seething. "How dare he make you cry!"

Xiyeon looks to her with worry and concern. "Lisa, don't-"

It was too late, Lisa marching out into the crowd you and Xiyeon followed in horror as you struggled to keep up, squeezing through the crowd to walk in on Lisa chewing Jungkook out.

"-you don't deserve her anyway. Aha too good for you, yet you broke her heart. Why did you lead her on, huh? Why'd you pretend you liked her? So jealous and possessive, ignoring your own dates for her, acting sweet or introducing her to your parents? You can't even sort out your own shit, Jeon. How fucking-"

"Lisa!" Xiyeon snapped, reaching forward to yank on the girl's ear. Lisa was dragged away quickly, though she tried to pry herself from Xiyeon's right grip to yell at Jungkook some more. You know you should go along with them to go home, perhaps give yourself a good cry until you were able to fall asleep. Instead, you were numb, staring at Jungkook, your cheeks wet and your lips trembling.

"I'll leave you alone now," you said quietly, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry I wasn't good enough. I guess I never will be."

Jungkook opened his mouth to say something, but you were already gone.