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secretgamergirl · 1 year

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All the seriously queer stuff in the back half of Sailor Moon

In case it wasn't obvious when I released a little mini-RPG a few months ago where you basically play as the villains, I've been gradually making my way through the entire run of Sailor Moon for the past year or so. Specifically I'm watching the 2014 Viz dub that covers all 200 episodes, trying to be as faithful as they can with it. It's been a really interesting experience, since I absolutely watched the old DiC dub back in the day, saw a fansub of one of the movies around the same time, and heard plenty of things about the missing seasons (particularly the infamous "cousins" thing from the Cloverway dub) over the years, and now I have all the context. And the context gets really shockingly overtly queer, turns out!

So first, let's just all get on the same page with the English language localizations of Sailor Moon over the years. Back in the 90s, Sailor Moon aired… well everywhere, with the English language version being a dub from DiC, which I will go to my grave defending as probably the best dub of anything I can think of. Fantastic casting all around, changes to the soundtrack that were actually for the better (keeping all the melodies but recording new versions that… aren't optimized to sound show-perfect when recreated by the cheapest sound generators one can shove in a toy, plus some original songs shoved into a few episodes). They did make some edits/cuts, but pretty minor ones, especially compared to the complete reworkings most anime of the era went through when coming to American TV, and I'm still not used to Luna not being prissy and British here.

That dub only lasted up through the second season. Past that, there was a dub of seasons 3 and 4 from Cloverway, which had some really questionable performances, and is where the infamous "they're cousins" bit came in. This also aired on TV in some places, but didn't have nearly the same omnipresent distribution as the DiC seasons (… and now I'm feeling old as I ponder whether to explain how local TV affiliates did their own thing back in the broadcast days). Then in the early 2000s there was a DVD release from Pioneer with cut/uncut versions of everything, apparently, which may or may not have recycled those dubs. I don't really have the energy to track that down, specifically. Anyway all the rights expired, gathered dust forever, then Viz picked it up and did this new faithful localization, and it took me about a decade to spot it on a streaming service.

So we've got 5 seasons, 200 episodes total, and a hell of a lot of formulaic structuring here. Every season (or half a season) we've got some main villain with an evil plan we may or may not get any details on, and some small number of underlings who then take their 5-10 episode long turns pursuing their goal in a way that inevitably generates monsters of the week, and meanwhile every season we have another conflict on the good guy side where someone is trying to locate some special person and ignoring the 50 or so obvious signs which main cast member it is while the audience gets frustrated. Oh and each individual episode has the same rigid structure of everyone getting caught up in some wacky teen trend, then there's a monster, they transform and fight a bit to no real end, then Sailor Moon gets around to using a finisher because that's literally the only thing actually capable of ending a fight. Honestly it's less "formulaic TV writing" and more like some sort of daily meditation. No way in hell I'd be able to sit through all of it if I had to look at the screen the whole time. This is background viewing while I work. Oh and I'm assuming everyone has at least enough passing familiarity to understand that if I say the name of a planet I'm talking about a teenage girl who's the reincarnation of some sorta magical girl/sentai squad member.

Season 1 has pretty gay vibes in places, but MOSTLY there's plausible deniability for all of it. We spend about half the season just establishing the characters of Moon Mercury and Mars, then quickly bringing in Jupiter and playing it up like a big shocking reveal for Venus. There's also a bunch of relationship drama between Moon, Tuxedo Mask, and the guy who runs the local arcade that she has a crush on and spends a while thinking is actually Tuxedo Mask instead of his actual identity of uh… a college-aged guy we're saying is the destined love interest of this 14-year old girl he's frankly pretty abusive towards. So, a lot of straight nonsense there. Meanwhile the evil queen's got these 4 generals, two of them are plainly dating, and no matter how you slice it, that's pretty overtly queer, but there's a valid argument to have over how we actually should slice it.

I was aware at the time that the DiC dub just ran with Zoicite here being a woman, making this a straight relationship, and I kinda figured they did a bit of tweaking and editing to hide that this was actually one of those bishonen types who were popular at the time who happened to be gay. Honestly though, watching it through a modern lens, it is REALLY hard to not just see a woman here, even when we're throwing he/him pronouns around. Like, if I'm handling a new dub, I'm just going to say Zoicite is a trans girl, who I'm at least headcanoning as being out for years, on HRT, and at that point where she can put on a suit designed for a man and nah that's a woman wearing a suit. Kinda just wraps around and makes me appreciate the old dub's handling more than the new one.

Season 2 (or R) doesn't really give us anything to work with, if I'm honest. There's probably some gals-being-pals energy amongst the main cast here and there. That's kind of always low-key present, especially with Jupiter, who has the whole big tough girl who wears long skirts thing sorta gay energy, and I want to say she ends up going to a dance with Mercury somewhere early on because one of them can't find a date otherwise.

But, we've got this filler arc with two dark elves in a tree who just kinda both hit on everyone of the opposite gender while the main cast sits in a holding pattern, then we get a proper villain squad not really getting enough spotlight time to have much of anything going on, and this whole weird thing where Moon and Mask's annoying toddler comes back from the future to… brainwash Moon's parents into thinking she's their daughter, and then she gets turned into an evil adult, and there's this whole bit about her having some sort of grim reaper/time guardian as a nanny (this is Pluto, the outer planets really have different things going on)… but again, mostly straight/cis flavored nonsense.

Then suddenly here comes season 3 (or S, pronounced "Super" which makes things real confusing), from a director who would later go on to create Utena, and in addition to just being the single best season of the series for a number of other reasons, everyone is canonically into girls now! It's shockingly overt about establishing that too, and reiterating the point several times.

It all gets started with Uranus and Neptune showing up. We kind of have this three faction conflict this season, where there's a proper main villain and squad of monster making minions, but then there's also this overtly queer power couple whose goal is basically to check out the "pure hearts" monsters of the week keep ripping out of people because they need to check them for these three macguffins they need to… reform the holy grail of all things to give to their leader they're too oblivious to know is actually Moon.

More importantly though, aside from making it abundantly clear that these two are banging every night, they have this very open relationship where Neptune is more than cool with Uranus hooking up with any given girl she's inclined to, and/or grabbing gals for threeways. And like, this isn't me taking a broad interpretation of things, it's weird how directly they just come out and say this. The other thing we have going on is that Uranus is just, like, the butchest of the butch.

Literally everyone just assumes she's a guy when they first meet, and quite a few people go into serious denial when corrected on the matter. And she kinda tends to react to all the misgendering with the sort of bemused nonchalance that makes it pretty easy to read her as actually being nonbinary. I swear there's an episode where she clarifies she's not a guy with that particular sort of emphasis suggesting that doesn't necessarily narrow things down to just "girl," too. And apparently Crystal actually DOES bite the bullet and flat out state she's nonbinary (or at least "both male and female"). That's cool, but there is no way in hell I'm going to sit through Crystal.

Anyway, point is, everybody wants to hook up with Uranus. Everyone. There's a whole episode where the power couple straight up takes Jupiter out on a date, the rest start gossiping about her being out on a date with two girls, everyone starts off shocked, then someone clarifies who it's with and everyone's like "oh, well yeah then I'd take them up on that too," with a little extra push back from Mars before she gets called out as trying to stay in the closet when she's clearly got a stash of photos of hot girls in suits.

This of course really makes me wonder about that Cloverleaf dub and why they went with that whole "cousins" thing to avoid addressing the overt queerness here, instead of taking the same approach DiC did of just making Uranus a guy. This would technically introduce the problem of having a guy in a miniskirt for fight scenes, but, eh, that'd be easier to edit around than you'd think. Uranus generally enters a fight scene pre-transformed firing an attack off from offscreen, arguing with the core cast a little, and leaving. Attacks are stock animation you can drop in anywhere, so that much is easy enough to chop out or replace with Neptune's attack. I don't know how one would even begin to cut around all the overt gay stuff though.

Nothing especially queer going on with the evil side of things. The villains are kind of amazing but too career oriented for relationships. I guess just for the sake of giving full context for the seasons most people haven't seen and fill in the obvious hole in the roster I can mention the eventual deal that the little goth girl Chibi-Usa spends the season hanging out with turns out to be the main villain's daughter, Sailor Saturn, and kind of the antichrist? Like I said, the outer planets aren't just cast expansions, they really have their own stuff going on. She also dies and reincarnates, doing so the long way where she sits the next season out being just a baby, which once again begs the question of whether when everyone dies at the end of the first season they just kinda magically come back to life with missing memories just as a temporary thing for a filler arc to play with or they really dd all reincarnate and have new families a decade and change later. Weird that that never got firmly pinned down.

Anyway though season 4 (AKA Super S, which is pronounced "Supers" and now you see why I prefer just numbers)… sucks and you should skip it. No sense of stakes, no real character work, non-threatening villain, shockingly dull monster designs, no outer planets, an ending that just drags on for what feels like forever and has no payoff. The only things it has in its favor are the inherent absurdity that people are wondering if Chibi-Usa is like full-on dating Pegasus (yes, the horse) and Fish's Eye.

So we have two different miniboss squads this season, the latter of which is a quartet of permanent-child acrobats working for the impressively titled if boring in practice Dead Moon Circus, preceded by three animals-turned-into-humans-by-a-witch with a weird What-you-originally-were's Eye naming scheme. Two of them are just dull slutty guys, but Fish's Eye is plainly and overtly a trans woman, and gets something of an arc about being willing to give up her own humanity for the greater good. It's a shame she's stuck in the practically unwatchable season, but at least she's on the REALLY short list of major villains who gets to have a happy ending. Usually even when someone has a nice redemption arc with the power of love and friendship they still get bumped off by another villain.

Different localizations have done different things with her. Some go "crossdressing gay guy" some just say she's a woman and leave her transness out of it. The 2014 localizaton is pretty unambiguous about though, so, that's really nice. Casting could be better, but still.

Then finally we come to season 5 (Sailor Stars), which I think is even more queer than season 3 was, which is really saying something, and was also directed by someone who would go on to helm another girly show with a serious case of The Genders, Ouran High School Host Club. Structurally it's a bit weird, because the first few episodes are just straight up taking a mulligan on the terrible finale of season 4, this time with the outers in (Saturn hyper-ages back to her standard 10 or whatever and gets a bunch of inexplicable knowledge and memories which is cool but never really paid off), the main villain doing something, and as a shocking rarity for the series, this whole mini-arc where characters are broken into pairs of one inner one outer and get to bounce off each other in a way the series frustratingly usually never does.

More importantly though, at least for this post's purposes, basically the first scene of the season is Uranus and Neptune having a flirty exchange ending with something along the lines of "let's save the pillow talk for when we're actually in bed together later tonight," which sort of sets the tone for just how blatantly these two are talking about their extremely active sex life in no uncertain terms, out in public. Some of the other characters are a bit weirded out by their complete lack of filter, but hey whatever.

The real proper start of the season though has our core cast finally starting high school, once again reminding us that everyone is at LEAST 4 years younger than everything about their designs, interests, and handling of responsibilities would indicate. This also reminds us how deeply creepy the Moon/Tuxedo Mask relationship is, but fortunately he hops a plain to America and is straight up out this season, and as an added bonus Chibi-Moon finally goes back to the future. Before you get too excited she IS shortly replaced with an even younger, barely verbal new mystery gremlin called Chibi-Chibi whose existence nobody can account for, but at least she's actually cute and not akin to the baby from Dinosaurs. More importantly though, as the girls enter high school they end up in a class with the titular Sailor Stars, AKA The Three Lights, AKA Fighter Maker and Healer, a popular boy band who are also a new mysterious set of Sailors with what I assume are intentionally quite confusing gender shenanigans in play.

Normally, they are hot lanky boys, boastful about their masculinity to the point of it bordering on misogyny, but also super super femme, with earings, hair down to their ankles, and very noticeably female VAs in both Japanese and English. Then when there's a fight they're very plainly hot lanky girls in bikinis and one of them has an attack shouting "Star Gentle Uterus!" before hitting a monster with a glob of liquid to a disgusted reaction. And their transformation sequences (and bikinis, and some shirtless scenes) make it absolutely crystal clear that yeah there is some magical reconfiguring of their bodies when making the switch. The show pointedly avoids elaborating on what the deal is past that in terms of which they form they started with/feel more comfortable in/why they switch it up/etc. which would normally frustrate me as one of those Schroedinger's Queer Rep situations, but I very much get the impression that we're going for intentional confusion and ambiguity in service to a general message that if you're into someone you shouldn't have hangups about their gender or what it says about your own sexuality and just kind of accept your feelings and them as a person and I am pretty OK with that.

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The cast is too. Mercury Mars Jupiter Venus and for good measure Luna all kinda spent the entire season fixating on how to hook up with any/all of The Three Lights, meanwhile at basically any moment there isn't a fight scene or some plot exposition happening, Fighter is VERY ACTIVELY pursuing Moon in a sexual fashion, with pretty overtly stated tension before damn near every commercial break over whether this is going to be the scene where Sailor Moon gets absolutely railed by this maybe-genderfluid pop star from another world. And I have to just say as a brief aside that while we obviously never go there, I kinda wish we did? Tuxedo Mask is WAY too old to be dating someone Moon's age, even if we do the thing where we just add 4 to everyone's stated age. Plus he kinda treats her like absolute garbage for the whole show, and even when they're in a more wholesome mode the whole thing feels toxic and messed up. Meanwhile Fighter here is literally the same age, clearly into her, and beyond the one character flaw, an actual decent person. Though again, really damn forward. Still beats the hell out of the guy in college dating a middle schooler, and kinda flirting with his own prepubescent future-daughter.

There's also this huge confrontational thing between Fighter and Uranus, where it's slightly unclear if Uranus is being protective of Moon, violently jealous because Neptune is totally and surprisingly overtly open to hooking up with anyone from this boy band too, or just kinda trying to defend her position as the hot androgynous badass who swept into town with the intent of hooking up with every girl in the zip code eventually. Meanwhile Fighter thinks Uranus is a kind of toxic macho dude and really questions the whole "she's not a guy" thing, which is, you know, interesting. Pluto never really weighs in on this because… Pluto kinda lives outside of time and space and has maybe 8 minutes of real screen time in the entirety of the show.

Past that, we've got a bunch of other gay stuff too! We're back to cranking the general queer energy of the core cast up past the point of plausible deniability with regards to each other and a random girl trying to pass along a love letter with some confusion as to who it's for. It also bears mention that when the full deal of the new characters and their gender flipping comes to light, Jupiter makes an active point of making it clear that she is still 100% down and like, hey, I already knew you were the least conflicted of the bunch about how bi you all are, but I appreciate the active refutation of transphobia is still cool. We've got an honestly adorable pair of villains where one is frankly such a bimbo she's completely incapable of doing the evil general thing on her own or preparing her own food, and her hyper-competent girlfriend helping her out while also having to come up with cover stories because they're supposed to be pitted against each other. They'd definitely get a nice happy ending in one of the even numbered seasons, especially once it's made clear that they're very much being coerced into the evil stuff/taking things down from the inside, but… yeah this season ends up going super dark.

I don't want to totally get into how absolutely pitch dark the big 8-part series finale gets and spoil the hell out of it since if it wasn't clear, the odd numbered seasons are all really good stuff you should watch on your own, plus this one has a bunch of genuine twists, but I have to get into some of it in my mission of explaining how gay it all is. Consider yourself warned.

As happens kind of a lot in Sailor Moon finales, the bulk of the season 1 cast gets killed off once the main villain steps in to start getting her hands dirty, but here it's early enough on in the arc for Moon to really process it and give it the weight that maybe it'll actually stick this time. In particular of course she's worked up about Tuxedo Mask turning out to have died off camera at the start of the season (the impression to that point being that he's too distracted with a trip to America to check his messages or maybe just straight up ghosted her), but then almost as broken up over losing Mars, because yeah, those two in particular actually end up with a surprising amount of low key romantic tension between them by the end of things.

Then once it's time to get the outer planets off the table, all four of them end up in a no-win situation against the villain, who does that villain thing of of offering them a choice of just being killed and having their souls ripped out to be made into new stars (this is kind of her whole thing, see), OR if anyone's up for it, they can switch sides, still get their souls ripped out to be made into stars, but given funky magic bracelets that allow them to stay alive, just, you know, corrupted by evil and acting as her new villain squad. It's actually established right before the last one gets vaporized that all her original henchgals are in fact the Sailors of other planets she forced into the same deal just before the last one gets vaporized for failure, making it that much tragic in retrospect that the cute competence-disparity couple didn't make it.

Anyway, Uranus and Neptune actually take the deal. Like, zero hesitation. Part of it is eventually explained as Uranus having enough faith that she's too into her girlfriend to be fully corrupted and might get a chance to sucker punch the villain with her own soul extractors (which she IS it just doesn't work), and failing that Moon'll probably swing some kinda deus machina (which is an admittedly safe bet, honestly). But another part of it really is just "yeah screw it, if I still get to be with my girlfriend I'll take being evil over being dead" and they really do go through with it and promptly murder their oldest friend and a very young girl. Don't let anyone tell you Sailor Moon is one of those power of love and friendship always triumphs sorta shows. I don't know that the power of love and friendship even ties the scoreboard if we tally things up over the whole series. Oh and the final final final showdown has a nude Sailor Moon with angel wings just trying to hug it out with the main villain, which I guess could also maybe be read as a bit queer.

So yeah. Sailor Moon. When you don't have a puritanical edit, it's queer as hell. Everyone's bi or non-binary-and-sapphic. Several different flavors of trans rep. Goes out on a note of not getting hung up on gender. All of this in a roughly 30 year old series now, aimed at young impressionable girls. … actually for that matter it's also a show aimed at girls with really powerfully horny monster girl designs all over the place. Possibly relevant.

Oh yeah, and maybe consider throwing me some money via Patreon? I can't actually cover next month's rent as things stand.

#sailor moon #queer #gay #lesbian #trans #nonbinary #genderfluid #positive representation #for real though it's really messed up that Sailor Aluminum Siren and Sailor Iron Crow in particular stay dead they deserved better #Youtube

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zizzlekwum · 2 years

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Stranger In A Not-So-Strange Land

Masterlist

CHAPTER TWO

Reid suspects a kid who reached out to him for help is a serial killer when he talks about killing prostitutes. Follows the events of Criminal Minds Season 2 Episode 11 “Sex, Birth, Death.”

Trigger Warnings: talks of suicide and suicidal ideation; non-graphic suicide attempt of side character

Word Count: 7,360

Tag List: @leftoverenvy @itsmeanobody @ctrljuls @theclassicgaycousin [if you want to be added to the tag list, please comment or send me an ask]

You’re walking away from the coffee machine, mug in hand, as Reid rushes by you. “What’s the rush, Reid?” you ask.

“Oh, hey guys,” JJ says, coming around the corner.

“JJ, who’s your contact at the DC police?” Reid asks, walking quickly to his desk, writing in his notebook.

“Uh, Victor Barnes,” JJ replies as you follow him. “Why? You need me to call him?”

Reid ignores her, grabbing the phones at his desk and dialing. “Hi, Detective Barnes, please.”

“What’s wrong?” Gideon asks from behind you.

Reid points at his notebook. “Need to get that to everybody as soon as possible,” he says. “Uh, hi, Detective Barnes. This is Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid at the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico. Have you had any recent murders involving prostitutes, maybe just Jane Does? They would’ve been stabbed to death and their hair would’ve been cut off by the killer.”

JJ gives you a look. What’s going on? She mouths. You shrug.

“When was the most recent victim?” Reid asks over the phone. “I’ll explain when I see you. I’ll meet you in a half hour.” He hangs up the phone.

“What’s going on?” Gideon asks.

“DC may have a serial killer,” Reid says. “And I think I just let him get away.”

“What?” you say. “What do you mean?”

“There was this kid, he came up to me at the subway. He said he went to my lecture about how we caught the Mill Creek killer. He started asking questions, and then asked what it would mean if someone cut the hair off of a prostitute after killing them.”

“That’s… not good,” you say bluntly, unsure what else to say.

“He walked away before I could get his name,” Reid says. “I’m going to go meet with the detective.”

“We’ll come with you,” Gideon says, nodding at you. You follow Reid to the elevator and down to the SUV. Gideon drives.

* * * * *

When you get to the ME’s office, Detective Barnes is already there, standing next to the covered body of who you assume is the dead prostitute. After introductions are made, he moves to uncover the victim’s head. “We found her four days ago in an alley off of K Street,” the detective says. “Still no ID.”

Hotch walks in. “Hey, just got your message.”

“Aaron Hotchner, Vic Barnes,” Gideon introduces them.

“Hi,” Hotch says, nodding to the detective. “What have we got?”

“This is the second victim,” Reid tells him. “The first one was killed three months ago.”

“Both in the early morning,” you add.

“Both had their hair chopped?” Hotch asks.

Detective Barnes nods. “Uniform didn’t make the connection because he was fixated on this.” He pulls the sheet farther down to expose the victim’s belly, where ‘HELP’ has been carved into her skin.

“The first victim didn’t have anything carved on her, I assume?” you ask.

“Just a routine Jane Doe,” the detective says, shaking his head.

“Take a look,” Gideon says, pointing to the cuts. “A lot are shallow. They’re hesitation marks. He’s not certain he wants to be killing.”

“Makes you think the message he carved is sincere,” Reid adds. “He’s asking the police to help him stop.”

“Fits with your kid, seeking you out,” Gideon says. “Part of him wants to get caught.”

Reid shakes his head. “I let him go, I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, Reid,” you tell him. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose. We’ll find him.”

“If both murders took place in the morning, how come there were no witnesses?” Hotch asks.

Detective Barnes sighs. “The motels and alleys around the Capitol are notorious. People go out of their way not to look.”

You finish up the conversation before heading back to the BAU. When you get there, Hotch tells you, Morgan, and Prentiss to go canvas the streets where the bodies were found and see if anyone recognizes Reid’s sketch.

* * * * *

“So the kid just happened to have a conversation with a serial killer on his way to work?” Morgan asks as he drives. You’re in the back behind Prentiss in the passenger seat.

“Seems like it,” you confirm.

“That’s weird, even for us,” Prentiss says. You hum in agreement.

“Weird just seems to find us,” Morgan notes, pulling up to the curb. The three of you exit the vehicle and begin to look around. You split up, Morgan going in one direction and you and Prentiss in the other, looking for someone who might know something. Not everyone is eager to talk to you, afraid you’re here to arrest them, but you finally find a girl to talk to. She looks barely eighteen. You introduce yourselves and begin to ask her questions.

“Business is pretty heavy here in the mornings?” Prentiss asks.

The girl bites her bottom lip, looking skeptical. “How do I know you’re not just lookin’ to crack down on us?” she asks.

“Because we’re telling you. We’re here trying to protect you,” you tell her. Morgan walks up behind you, inspecting the dumpster, as another woman, presumably a friend of the girl you’re talking to, goes to her side.

The girl sighs. “A lot of johns from the hill stop by on their way to work,” she explains.

Her friend jumps in. “We always say the same politicians yellin’ about cleanin’ up the hill are the ones droppin’ fifty bucks with us before they make the speech.”

“It’s true,” the first girl says. “And the more important they think they are, the quicker they accidentally finish up with us. It’s weird like that.”

“No, that’s pretty much universal,” Prentiss says. You snort.

Morgan fights a smile, holding up Reid’s sketch. “You recognize him at all?”

“I don’t know his name or nothin,’” the girl says.

Her friend shrugs. “He hangs around, tries to pretend like he’s not watching us. He’s just a horny kid, you know.”

“You didn’t see him talking to any of the other girls out here?” you ask.

The woman shrugs again. “I just figured he’s the kind, gets his little bit of danger, and goes home and takes business into his own hands.”

“Is he the one who did this?” the first girl asks.

“We don’t know,” you tell her.

“But someone did,” Prentiss adds. “So you need to be careful.”

The woman nods. “We stick to the daylight and only work the high-end blocks.”

Prentiss eyes the first girl. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” she says immediately. Prentiss glances at Morgan then back at the girl, shaking her head. “Fine, nineteen,” the girl admits.

“Just watch out for each other, okay?” Prentiss says.

They nod and begin to walk away.

“Well, if he is the killer, they obviously don’t see him as a threat,” Prentiss notes to you and Morgan as you walk back to the SUV.

“Looks can be deceiving,” you say, opening the back door and getting in.

“Don’t we know it,” Morgan says, sliding into the driver’s seat. He begins to drive back to the BAU as you continue to discuss the case.

* * * * *

When you get to the office, Hotch is in his office with a woman, so you all go to your desks to wait for him to be done. When the woman walks out, she notices Prentiss and makes a beeline for her, giving her a hug. They exchange pleasantries as you notice Hotch watching from the behind the window of his office, a solemn look on his face. Swallowing, you decide to go let Morgan and Prentiss fill Hotch in, and you head to Garcia’s office to see what she’s doing.

“This is impossible,” you hear Reid say before you enter the room.

“What’s impossible?” you ask.

“Finding this kid with how little we have,” Reid explains.

“It’s not impossible,” Garcia insists.

“There’s nothing in the juvenile offender records,” Reid argues.

Garcia shrugs. “So you think like a high school kid.”

“I was twelve, and I hadn’t been through puberty when I was in high school,” Reid tells her.

“Don’t look at me,” you say. “I was a loner who ate lunch in the computer lab.”

Garcia sighs. “Okay, reset. I think like a high school student. You guys think like profilers.” You both nod. “He said he was a junior, right?” Reid nods. “Okay, so the first rule of the teen years— when talking to an authority figure, always lie and say you’re older. He’s probably a sophomore.”

“Okay,” Reid says. “His coat was lamb’s wool, but it didn’t look vintage. It… fit like it had been tailored to him. That means money.”

“In DC, money means private school,” you add.

“Even a lie has to be within the depth of your own experience, right?” Reid asks.

“Fair enough, fair enough,” Garcia says, nodding.

“Uh….” Reid thinks for a second. “Pull up the district that serves Northwest High.” Garcia begins typing. “Are there any private schools within those boundaries?”

“Uh, three,” Garcia says.

“Do any of them offer elective courses at Georgetown?” Reid asks.

Garcia’s computer beeps. “One. The Morton School.”

“Pull up the junior class,” Reid says.

“Sophomore class,” you correct. Garcia smiles and begins scrolling through the pictures of students as Reid looks over her shoulder.

“Wait wait, stop. There,” Reid says, pointing.

Garcia blows up the picture. “Nathan Harris.”

“We got him,” Reid says, sounding surprised.

“I’ll go tell Hotch,” you say. “And Garcia? You’re awesome.”

“You know it,” she says, smiling at you as you exit the room, heading for Hotch’s office.

You knock on the open door before stepping inside. “Hotch? We have a name.”

He stands up from his desk chair. “Great. I’ll have Gideon and Morgan go with Reid to talk to him. You stay here with Prentiss and JJ.”

You nod. “Got it.” You walk back to your desk and sit down, sighing. You turn on the computer at your desk and begin researching more crime statistics while you wait.

* * * * *

When Gideon, Morgan, and Reid get back, Nathan Harris and his mother walking behind them, they bring Nathan right to the interrogation room while JJ takes his mother to a conference room. You head to the observation room to watch the interrogation.

“Nathan, if you didn’t do it, how’d you know the details of the murder?” Morgan asks.

“‘Cause I saw the body,” Nathan answers. “It was early. It was before school. She-she was dressed in red. She’d been stabbed a lot, and her hair was all chopped off.”

“Where was that?” Morgan asks, leaning on the table as Reid sits in the chair across from Nathan.

“In an alley off of K Street,” Nathan tells him. “They take men down there for sex, I see ‘em do it all the time.”

“What were you doing down there?” This time, it’s Reid who asks the question.

Nathan shakes his head. “I don’t know, I just sort of… end up there sometimes, you know? I-I-I stay out all night, and I just come back in the morning, and if my mom’s at work, I don’t even bother coming home.”

Reid sighs. “Why didn’t you call the police?”

“I don’t know,” Nathan says, shrugging.

Morgan takes a breath. “Nathan, the prostitutes I talked to say you watch them.”

“I’ve never touched them,” Nathan insists.

“You fantasize about having sex with them?” Morgan asks.

Nathan sighs. “No, I told you, I think about killing them.” Morgan and Reid share a look. “Look, after the lecture, I saw you at the metro stop a few times, and I thought maybe you could help me.”

“How?” Reid asks.

“I don’t know,” Nathan answers. “I saw that body and I felt excited and that really scared me.”

“Is it possible that you actually killed those prostitutes, but you just don’t want to admit it to yourself?”

“No,” Nathan says with finality.

“Then why’d you run away from me?” Reid asks.

“‘Cause… I don’t know, I thought you’d say I was crazy and there was no way to stop it.”

Morgan and Reid look at each other again before standing and exiting the room. You walk over to them.

“Wow,” you say.

“Yeah,” Morgan says, sighing.

“What are you gonna tell the mother?” you ask.

“I want to hold him overnight,” Morgan says. “Just in case.” He walks up to where Gideon and Nathan’s mother are sitting. They stand as Morgan approaches. “Ma’am,” Morgan starts, “we’d like to let the juvenile authorities hold him overnight so we can do a psychological evaluation.”

Nathan’s mother looks at him in shock, shaking her head. “I can’t believe this is real.”

“Well, right now it’s just an evaluation,” Gideon tells her. “I’d encourage Nathan to have a lawyer present.”

“I don’t know what he’s going through, but the Nathan I know is a sweet boy,” Nathan’s mother insists.

Reid nods. “I believe you.”

“Do we have your permission?” Gideon asks. Nathan’s mother sighs and nods.

“I’ll show you where to sign the paperwork,” Reid says, walking away with the mother just as Prentiss comes over.

“The juvenile authorities are waiting for Nathan Harris,” she tells Gideon.

“He’s in interrogation,” Gideon says.

Prentiss nods. “Is he our unsub?”

Morgan shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t think so,” you chime in. “I think he’s just scared of his mind.”

“He says he didn’t do it,” Morgan adds. “He actually seems sincere. But he’s a smart kid. And part of the sexual-sadist profile is the ability to mimic honesty and sincerity.” Morgan shrugs and walks away.

“Well, I’m going to go bring Nathan to the juvenile authorities,” Prentiss tells you.

“I’ll come with you,” you say, walking next to her. “Not like there’s anything else for me to do.”

She opens the door to the interrogation room and steps inside. “The police are here for you,” she tells Nathan, who nods and stands. The two of you escort him down the hall.

“Dr. Reid?” Nathan says as you approach Reid and the authorities.

“Yeah?” Reid says. Prentiss nods at you and walks away. You move to stand next to where Garcia is sitting on the corner of Reid’s desk.

“I know I, um, don’t deserve any favors,” Nathan says, “but whatever my psych eval says, you promise you’ll tell me the truth?” Reid nods. “Uh, my mom says a promise doesn’t count unless you say it out loud.”

Reid chuckles. “I promise.”

Nathan nods. “Okay, thank you.” The juvenile authorities escort him out of the room.

“You know,” Garcia says, “he might’ve killed two women. It’s not your job to hold his hand through this.”

Reid sighs. “It’s like with my mom. I used to think that is I could just understand absolutely everything there is to know about schizophrenia, then I’d somehow be able to fix it.” Your heart hurts for him.

Garcia smiles sadly. “You can’t.” She opens her mouth to say something else, but is interrupted by Hotch.

“Hey guys, I need everybody in the conference room. If Nathan Harris isn’t our unsub, we need a working profile.” You nod and follow him to the conference room, sparing a sad glance back at Reid. When you get there, JJ is standing in front of the TV screen, which is displaying pictures of the victims.

“DC Police sent us these photos of the first victim,” she says as you take a seat next to Prentiss.

“This was the unsub’s first kill,” Hotch says as JJ flips through the photos on the screen. “He held his urges in check for three months, and when he couldn’t control them anymore, he sent this message to the police.” JJ clicks to the picture of the second victim’s carved belly. “We know the ‘HELP’ and the hesitation marks mean he was ambivalent about the kill. What we don’t know is why he chopped the hair.”

“It’s weird that he didn’t take it with him, right?” you say. “Means it’s not a trophy.”

“It’s probably a way to minimize some of their power, robs them of their femininity,” Gideon says.

“That fits with him killing during the early morning,” Reid notes. “It’s the time when prostitutes have the least power sexually as opposed to the night, when he might see them as being on the prowl.”

“Hey, I know we’re just spitballing this here, but this profile points to Nathan Harris,” Prentiss says.

“I don’t wanna talk about Nathan Harris,” Hotch says.

“She’s right, though,” you say.

Morgan nods. “He reached out for help. This is an adolescent kid. He’s probably intimidated sexually. I don’t care how many times he says he didn’t do it, he knew about the last victim, and he admitted to getting off on seeing her dead.”

“We’ve got Nathan Harris. It doesn’t do us any good to talk about him now,” Hotch insists. “I just wanna make sure that if it’s not him, we stay on top of this thing before it takes on a life of it’s own.”

“All right, all right, all right, all right,” Gideon says. “We know our unsub is a sexual sadist.

“The symbolism of stabbing them probably means that he’s impotent,” Prentiss adds.

“The only way he can get off is by killing,” Morgan says.

“Considering that cutting their hair and killing during the early morning, both stem from feeling powerless, there’s a chance his pathology’s more than sexual,” Reid says.

“What do you mean?” you ask, frowning.

“This is DC. Power’s the most important commodity,” Reid notes. “Maybe this guy feels impotent in his professional life, as well.”

“But why these particular women?” Morgan asks.

“Simplest answer is that he has access,” Reid answers.

“Well, Northwest DC has three major hubs of prostitution— near Florida Avenue, off Logan Circle, and McPherson Square,” JJ tells you, drawing up a map of the area with her remote. “Where the victims were found.”

“Probably works in or around Capitol Hill,” Gideon concludes.

“Well, I’ll go back out on the street in the morning and see if any of these women know someone who fits that description,” Prentiss says.

“I’ll come with,” you say. She nods.

“Good,” Hotch says. “It’s late. Let’s go home.”

JJ frowns. “Um, shouldn’t we get word out to the papers?”

“Not yet,” Hotch says.

“Well, it’s not too late to make the morning edition,” JJ reminds him.

“I said no,” Hotch says firmly, turning and walking away. JJ shares a look with you as you follow him, going to your desk to grab your things before heading home.

* * * * *

In the morning, you and Prentiss meet up at the BAU before driving together to the area you spoke with the women yesterday. When you get there, a new alley is taped off with yellow crime scene tape.

“Looks like Nathan Harris isn’t our unsub,” you say as you exit the SUV. You and Prentiss cross the crime scene tape and find yourselves faced with the body of the girl you talked to yesterday. A new word is carved into her stomach.

“‘Failure,’” Prentiss reads. “You think he’s talking to the police?”

You shrug. “It would fit with his last message. A failure to help him stop killing.”

Prentiss reaches down and takes out the victim’s wallet. She sighs, shaking her head. “She was only sixteen.”

Morgan, Reid, and Hotch walk up behind you. “He’s getting angrier and blaming the police for not stopping his impulses,” Hotch says as Morgan crouches down next to Prentiss.

“Certainly not cooling off between kills anymore,” Reid notes.

“Which means we’re looking at a whole lot of bodies,” Morgan says solemnly.

“Meanwhile, in two days, Congresswoman Steyer’s gonna stand up at the Capitol and declare Washington crime-free,” Hotch says.

“That seems a little premature,” you say.

“Hey, what did she want with you the other day, anyway?” Prentiss asks Hotch. You try to make eye contact with her to get her to drop the question but fail.

“It was a private conversation,” Hotch says, his voice short.

Prentiss nods. “Right, of course. I’m sorry.”

“Well, this just confirms Nathan Harris isn’t our unsub,” Morgan says.

Prentiss nods. “Y/L/N said the same thing. Should we call Gideon and tell him not to bother with the eval?”

“No,” Reid says. “He wants to understand what’s happening to him. He deserves to know.”

“Probably a good thing to go through with it, anyway— see if we have anything to worry about in the future,” you add.

Hotch nods. “Let’s head back to the office. There’s nothing left for us here.”

* * * * *

Back at the BAU, you sit down at your desk as Hotch turns to Prentiss. “Can I see you in my office for a second, please?” She nods and follows him up the stairs as you grimace, figuring he’s still upset about her asking about his meeting with the Congresswoman.

You fidget in your seat as you wait for her to exit Hotch’s office, fighting the urge to look in that direction. When she does come and sit down at her desk across from you, she’s frowning.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think it was about you,” you tell her quietly. “He’s been weird ever since the Congresswoman talked to him in his office the other day.”

Prentiss sighs, leaning back in her chair and stretching. “I don’t think he trusts me.”

“He will,” you assure her, frowning. “And I know that for a fact.”

She chuckles. “Oh, you do, do you?”

You shoot her a grin. “From another universe, remember? I know things,” you say with a wink, gesturing to yourself.

“Don’t remind me,” she tells you, smiling. “You’ll give me an existential crisis every time I remember I’m just a character in some TV show.”

Laughing, you shake your head. “The way I look at it is that the creator of that TV show was just able to somehow see into this universe and just thought it was an original idea. Does that make it better?”

She nods contemplatively, chewing her bottom lip. “That does make sense,” she says slowly. “At least, as much as any of this whole situation makes sense.”

* * * * *

The rest of the day drags on, and right when you’re about to leave for the night, Reid gets a call from Nathan Harris’ mother, telling him that Nathan isn’t in his room. You volunteer to go with Reid and Morgan to look for him.

“He’s gotta be out here, right?” Reid says from the passenger seat as Morgan slowly drives down the streets where Nathan had said he watches the prostitutes, looking for the boy. “Where else would he be?”

“No, I agree,” you tell him, peering out the window of the SUV to see if you can spot him.

“I still can’t believe his mother’s not out here searching for him,” Morgan says.

“I told her it’d be better if she waited for him at home,” Reid says.

Morgan glances over at Reid. “Reid, you know this is not your responsibility.”

“It is,” Reid argues. “I-I can’t explain.”

“Well, maybe just try,” you say.

Reid sighs. “He knows I understand him.”

“Of course you do, you’re a profiler,” Morgan says.

“No, it’s more than that,” Reid tells you.

“How so?” you ask.

Reid is silent for a moment before answering. “I know what it’s like to be afraid of your own mind.” No one says anything for a minute before he decides to change the subject. “What’s up with Hotch today?”

Morgan chuckles. “I don’t know. Maybe he tied that knot in his tie a little too tight again.”

You and Reid laugh. “Funny,” you tell Morgan, still smiling. “But seriously, I was just talking to Prentiss about how he’s been off ever since his meeting with that Congresswoman yesterday.”

“Isn’t she the one who introduced that anti-crime bill a few months ago?” Reid points out.

“You know what, I think you’re right,” Morgan says.

“If so, it makes sense,” you say. “She probably heard that we have a potential serial killer in DC and wants it kept quiet so it doesn’t look like her initiative isn’t working.”

“I—” Morgan starts to say something but is interrupted by his phone ringing. He flips it open and puts it to his ear. “Yeah.” There’s a pause. “Okay. We’re on our way.” He closes his cell phone and sighs, glancing at Reid. “They just found a body.”

“At night?” You frown. “Either the unsub is devolving, or….” You don’t finish, but you’re sure they both know what you mean: or it was Nathan Harris.

You’re at the scene in less that two minutes since you were already in the area. You follow Morgan and Reid up the steps to find the victim lying in a pool of her own blood, a dark red spot on her abdomen greatly contrasting with the white fabric of her dress. Gideon is already there, looking down at the body.

“I’d say he’s getting bolder,” Morgan notes.

Gideon glances at him, frowning. “If it’s the same unsub.”

“Think it could’ve been Nathan?” Reid asks.

“This kill was fast and messy,” Gideon says.

You motion towards the victim’s head. “Her hair wasn’t cut.”

“No message carved,” Morgan adds.

“Not to mention killing at night.” Gideon shakes his head. “None of it’s our unsub’s signature.”

An officer comes up the stairs behind us. “Excuse me, Agent? They found the boy you’re looking for.”

You, Morgan, and Reid move to follow the officer. He leads you down the stairs and across the street to a church. “Says he’s been here four hours,” he reports as you all step inside. You spot Nathan sitting in a pew. He doesn’t turn around.

Reid moves to sit next to him. “You had a lot of people worried.”

“Sorry,” Nathan says, slowly looking over at Reid.

“Told that policeman that you’ve been here four hours?” Reid asks carefully.

Nathan sighs, looking down at his lap. “I snuck out, and I started walking, like I couldn’t control it, so… I figured I’d come here and try and fight it.”

“Has anybody seen you here?” Reid asks.

“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” Nathan says, shaking his head.

“But it does matter, Nathan. A woman was stabbed tonight, and nobody saw you.” Reid pauses. “I’m gonna have to bring you in as a suspect.”

Nathan doesn’t react, seeming resigned to the outcome. “You gonna cuff me?” he says finally, looking at Reid. Reid turns his attention to Morgan, who slowly takes out his handcuffs and hands them to Reid.

Reid takes the cuffs, standing. “Let’s go,” he says to Nathan quietly.

Nathan stands and holds out his hands. “Do you wanna know what I’ve been doing all night?” Reid hums in response, placing the handcuffs over Nathan’s wrists. “Just been sitting here, thinking… the only way for me to save people’s lives in the future… is to kill myself.”

Reid doesn’t answer, instead leading Nathan out the door and into the back of the SUV.

* * * * *

After you, Morgan, and Reid drop Nathan Harris off at the police station, you head back to the BAU. Reid goes straight to the coffee machine and makes himself a coffee. You and Gideon wait for him before making to walk back to your desks.

“So, Nathan’s in custody?” JJ comes up from behind you and walks beside Reid.

“They’re holding him downtown,” Reid tells her.

“You really think he killed that last woman?” she asks.

“It’s possible….”

“But…?” JJ prompts.

Reid sighs. “Nathan’s evolving. This last kill, it feels like a devolution.”

“It was sloppy and angry,” Gideon adds as he starts up the stairs to the conference room. “Nathan’s smart and directed. He’s used to achieving. If he decides to kill, it’ll be clinical and efficient.”

“So where does that leave us?” JJ says.

Gideon sighs. “Back to the profile.”

You all take your seats around the table in the conference room, the rest of the team already there. Hotch clicks the remote, pulling up a picture of the first victim. “First victim, he gets a taste for killing,” Hotch says before changing the photo to show the second victim. “Second, he asks the police to help stop him. By the third, he feels like they’re failed him. He’s already devolving. The fourth, no ritual, no message. Just a brutal murder.”

“It’s true that he’s devolving, but this last victim definitely had a message,” Gideon counters. “You don’t dump a body across from the Capitol building by accident.”

“Especially not when a Congresswoman is about to proclaim success against the crime epidemic,” Prentiss adds.

“Exactly,” Gideon says.

“Guys, that press conference wasn’t announced yet,” JJ points out. “Only someone with inside information would know that.”

“We profiled that the unsub felt impotent in his job,” Reid says. “What’s more powerless than being a bit player on the Washington stage?”

“You know, if he felt like he did his part to clear the prostitutes off the street, but was never heard, he might have felt so personally betrayed that he literally had to carve his frustrations out on those women,” Morgan says.

“So you’re saying the profile was right,” you say.

Reid jumps in. “Exactly, we were just wrong about who the message was for.”

“We need to get a list of anyone who advocated on behalf of that bill,” Gideon says.

“Prentiss, Y/L/N, when you two went back to talk to the prostitutes, did the profile ring a bell with any of them?” Hotch asks.

“A couple described what sounded like it could be the same man,” you say.

“We tried showing them mugshots but we came up empty,” Prentiss adds.

Hotch contemplates the information before nodding. “Let’s go back to them. We’re gonna need their help.”

“What are you thinking about, Hotch?” Morgan asks.

“I need to get a message to Congresswoman Steyer,” he says.

“Well, a press conference announcing that DC has a serial killer would be the easiest way to do that,” you say. “She’d be pissed.”

Hotch nods, looking to JJ. “How quickly can we put a together a press conference?”

JJ smiles. “How fast do you need it?”

“Tomorrow morning is fine,” Hotch tells her. “The rest of you can head home for the night. We’ll continue this tomorrow after the press conference.”

* * * * *

The next morning, you find yourself with Reid in Garcia’s office, trying to narrow down the list of suspects.

“Garcia, can you search people who are involved with research or advocacy groups dealing with crime control or prevention?” Reid asks.

Garcia types away at her keyboard. “I’m gonna need a little more than that.”

“The lower the group is on the Washington food chain, the better,” Reid adds.

You nod. “This guy feels like he’s not being heard, and he’s targeting prostitutes, so definitely check the groups with a theme centered around morality or values.”

Garcia sighs, shaking her head. “Okay, reality check. What you’re looking for— needle. This? Haystack.”

“Garcia, we don’t have to find it,” Reid says.

You frown. “We don’t?”

He shakes his head. “We just have to get to the people who can.”

Garcia continues typing. “Okay, I’ll let you know once I have something.”

“Thanks, PG,” you tell her, patting her on the shoulder as you walk out of her office and go to your desk. You notice Hotch’s press conference playing on a TV in the corner of the room.

“May I have your attention please,” Hotch says on the TV as he steps up to the podium, JJ at his side. “A day from now, there will be an announcement across the street on the steps of the Capitol that crime is down significantly in Washington. This is a fact. It is also a fact, however, that there’s a serial killer who’s been targeting the prostitutes who work in this area. In fact, the last victim was found not a hundred yards from where we’re standing. We’re here today to let you know that the police and the FBI are working tirelessly on this case.”

“We’d like to stress to the woman who work on these streets to please take caution,” JJ says. “All right, first I’m going to give a brief description of the man we’re looking for, and then we’ll take some questions. We believe the man responsible for these crimes works on or around Capitol Hill, possibly at a research or advocacy group dealing with issues of crime control or prevention.”

Your attention is drawn away from the TV when you notice Prentiss walking into the room, followed by the women you interviewed who recognized the profile. You stand and make your way over to her, saying hello to the women as they’re lead to the conference room. Reid is already there, standing off to the side. You all sit down around the table, and you and Prentiss make small talk to ease their nerves.

After a few minutes, Hotch leads Congresswoman Steyer into the room. “That was fast,” you mutter to Prentiss, who stands to greet her.

The Congresswoman ignores Prentiss and turns to Hotch. “Just what point are you trying to make?”

“These women described similar experiences with the same man,” Hotch says. “We showed them police mug photos and they didn’t recognize him. We thought maybe you might know who he is.”

Congresswoman Steyer rolls her eyes. “Did you think you could shock me by treating me to this sideshow?”

You clear your throat as the woman across from you glares at the Congresswoman. “Sideshow?” she scoffs.

The woman to her right shakes her head. “Lady, enough of the men you work with treat themselves to us every day.”

The Congresswoman, to her credit, has the grace to look apologetic for her outburst. “My apologies, ladies.”

“Could you please tell the Congresswoman who it is we’re looking for?” Prentiss asks politely.

“He’s tall and bald, and he’s got sad eyes,” the first woman says.

“He was always wearing a turtleneck with this long, dark coat,” the woman all the way to the right says. “Looked like a mortician.”

The second woman nods. “That’s right. Hung around just watching for months before he finally got his nerve on. But then he just wanted to watch.”

“Freak paid me and Racine 200 bucks to turn each other’s knobs,” the third woman adds. “But then he started screaming at us that we were just low women.

“Same thing with me,” the first woman reports, “and his voice got real high and nasal when he got excited.”

“Does that sound like anyone that you know?” Hotch asks the Congresswoman.

She looks at Hotch. “No.”

Reid steps forward. “I’m gonna read you a list of groups that lobbied on behalf of your legislation. Keeping in mind the description you just heard, tell me if anyone associated with these groups could be the man we’re looking for. Uh, The Crime Policy Institute, The Center for Safety, Citizens’ Brigade, Decency Watch, um—”

“Oh my God,” Congresswoman Steyer says, interrupting Reid.

“So, Decency Watch?” you ask.

“The man who runs it,” the Congresswoman says.

“Ronald Weems,” Reid says.

“Do you know him?” Hotch asks.

“No,” the Congresswoman says, then shakes her head. “I-I mean, yes, but he’s a nobody.”

Prentiss takes a step forward. “But he fits this description?”

“Perfectly,” Congresswoman Steyer says with a nod.

You and Prentiss share a look as Hotch turns to the prostitutes. “Thank you for your help,” he tells them.

“We can go now?” the middle one asks.

Hotch nods. “That’s all we needed.” The three woman stand and begin to file out of the room as Prentiss leads them out.

You turn to the Congresswoman. “Congresswoman Steyer, I can walk you out.”

She nods. “Thank you.” You nod in response, escorting her to the elevator before returning to Hotch.

“So, what’s our next move, boss?” you ask.

“I’m going to take Morgan and Gideon to Weems’ residence, see if he’s there. You stay here in case he’s not and we need to look for him.”

You nod. “Got it.” You head back to your desk and sit down to wait.

* * * * *

Less than an hour later, your phone rings. The caller ID tells you it’s Hotch.

“Was he there?” you ask.

“No,” he says. “I need you, Prentiss, and Reid to head to the area the bodies were found and start looking. We’ll meet you there.”

“Will do.” You close the phone and slip it into your back pocket, rising from your chair. “Reid, Prentiss, we’re up,” you tell them, both looking up at you from their own desks.

About forty-five minutes later, you’re out in the night, holding a picture of Ronald Weems up to everyone you meet.

“Have you seen this man?” You ask a homeless woman. She shakes her head so you move on to the next person and ask the same question. You make your way down the street as Prentiss makes her way up it, doing the same thing. When you meet up, you look to her hopefully, but she shakes her head.

“Damn,” you say. “Me either.” You both turn to head down an alley to your right, where Morgan is asking another prostitute.

“Nothing?” he asks you.

“No, you?” Prentiss asks. He sighs and shakes his head.

“Well, he’s gotta be out here somewhere,” you say as the three of you make to exit the alleyway. Suddenly, you hear a whistle blowing. You spare a glance at Prentiss as you all break into a run.

As you run up to where Hotch has his gun pointed at Ronald Weems, one of the women you talked to on the first day of the case runs up to Weems, pulling out a can of mace and spraying it into his face. Weems yells in pain as Morgan pulls the woman away.

“He killed my friend!” she yells, struggling against Morgan.

“I know he did, stop it!” Morgan says as Hotch cuffs Weems, who’s kneeling on the ground.

“She maced me!” Weems exclaims.

“Yeah, she did,” Prentiss says, her hand on her gun. You snort.

“They said they’d clean ‘em off the streets,” Weems says as Hotch leads him to the police car that just pulled up to the curb, siren blaring and lights flashing. “They lied! What was I supposed to do?! I had to do something!”

Hotch forces Weems into the backseat of the cruiser, shutting the door and cutting off Weems’ tirade. With the unsub in custody and nothing left to do, you and Prentiss start walking down the sidewalk in the direction of your SUV.

* * * * *

Back at the office, you sit down at your desk to finish up some paperwork before you leave for the night. You’re almost ready to go when Garcia walks up to Reid at his desk, followed by Nathan Harris.

“Hey,” she says, gesturing over her shoulder at the boy.

Reid stands as she walks away. “Hey,” he says to Nathan.

“Hi,” Nathan says, holding his arm nervously.

“I heard the juvenile authorities let you go today,” Reid says. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

Nathan shakes his head. “Mm, it’s all right.”

Reid looks around the room. “Where’s your mom?”

“Oh, she had to go back to work. I told her I was coming to see you.” Nathan sighs. “So, were you there when they caught him?”

Reid nods. “Yeah, I was.”

“Did he say how long he knew what he was?” Nathan asks.

“No,” Reid says, shaking his head.

“Do you think it’s possible for me to maybe talk to him or….”

“I’m sorry.” Reid shakes his head again. “You’re not him. Who we are is— it’s constantly evolving.” He chuckles. “I’m a lot older than you, and I-I’m changing all the time. You know, this-this job changes me. You’ve changed me. You sought me out to try to understand how not to harm people. That’s a far more important part of who you are than the one that scares you.”

Nathan looks down. “My mom wants to… have me go to a hospital for a little bit.”

“Maybe that’s not such a bad idea,” Reid suggests.

“You know, once they lock me up, they’re never gonna let me out of there,” Nathan says sadly.

Reid chuckles. “You don’t know that.”

Nathan shrugs. “Whatever. I just came to say goodbye.”

“When you going in?” Reid asks.

Nathan swallows. “Supposed to be tomorrow. So last night of freedom.” He pauses. “I don’t know, I— thank you for caring.”

Reid shakes Nathan’s hand and Nathan turns to walk away. You stand and pat Reid on the shoulder. “You did good with him,” you tell him.

“You think so?” he says with a frown, watching Nathan walk away.

You nod. “I do. And I think you may have saved some lives in the process.”

Reid gives you a small smile. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” you say. You fight back a yawn. “All right, I think I’m gonna head out. See you tomorrow.”

“‘Night,” Reid says with a smile as you walk back to your desk and shut off your computer, grabbing your backpack and walking down the hallway to Garcia’s office to say a quick goodbye.

You’re almost home when your cell phone rings. You groan and answer it. “Please do not tell me we—” You’re interrupted by Garcia’s panicked voice. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down, slow down. What’s wrong?”

“I, uh, I was with Reid, and we were gonna go hit a bar, and he got a phone call, and now we’re with Nathan Harris because he slit his wrists and I—”

You curse, turning your car around. “Okay, okay, Garcia, just breathe. I’m on my way. Where are you?”

She gives you the address in a shaky voice. “There-there was just so much blood and I— oh God, Y/N.”

“It’s gonna be okay. I’m assuming the ambulance is there?”

“Yeah, they, uh, they just got here. I-I’m gonna call Morgan, okay?” she says.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon,” you tell her. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Within fifteen minutes, you’re there. You step out of the car and walk over to the ambulance, where Nathan is laid out on a stretcher. You spare a minute to ask the paramedic how Nathan’s doing before you step away to look for Garcia. You spot her off the side and immediately go up to her and wrap her in your arms.

“Oh, Y/N,” she says.

“Are you okay?” you ask, leaning back to examine her. Her hands are stained red with blood, a bloody towel held tightly in her grasp.

“It was horrible,” she says, her voice shaking.

“Garcia!” You turn around to see Morgan jogging over to you. “Baby Girl, are you all right?”

“She’s shaken up, but unharmed,” you tell him as he pulls her into a hug.

“How did she know to call Reid?” Morgan asks her after a minute.

Garcia takes a shaky breath. “Nathan set Reid’s business card on the table before he cut himself, like a suicide note.”

“The paramedics say you and Reid saved his life,” you tell her softly.

Garcia glances over at the ambulance before quickly looking away. She sighs. “He didn’t want us to save him. He kept telling Reid to let him die.”

“He’s sick,” Morgan tells her, rubbing her arm.

“All I keep thinking is what if he eventually kills someone,” she whispers. “What if someone dies because we saved him?”

“It wouldn’t be your fault,” you tell her firmly.

“Profiles can be wrong, you know,” Morgan points out, though he doesn’t look convinced.

“And if it’s not, then we’ll find him and catch him,” you say. “Now come on, let’s get you home.”

You and Morgan walk Garcia to her car. Morgan tries to convince her to let him drive her home, but she refuses, not wanting to leave her car, which you come to learn she’s lovingly named Esther. Morgan settles for following her home to make sure she gets there safe, and you wave goodbye and head back to your car, finally ready to go home and sleep.

NOTE: If you think I missed any trigger warnings, please let me know!

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yunoteru4ever · 9 months

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Platinum End is plenty different enough from Future Diary

So I've finally tried Platinum End, which I mentioned over 18 months ago as a PURPORTED Mirai Nikki-like. At first I was going to read the manga, but I shifted over to the anime adaption and just finished watching.

When Platinum End's manga first got going in late 2015, it had a lot of expectation surrounding it because it was Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata follow-up to their incredibly popular Death Note series. Those of us who were around and paying attention back then like also recall how Platinum End got a lot of flack during its early manga run for supposedly being a Mirai Nikki ripoff. I remember plenty of derisive comments pointing out "12 13 unstable people compete to be the next god? A depressed and weak-willed guy + his love interest team up to fight off the rest? One of their opponents is even a wannabe-sentai superhero???"

(Mind you, this was in the mid-2010s — back before the Internet Hive Mind largely decided that Mirai Nikki was always secretly shitty. :( *siiiiiigh*)

But nevermind all that: In actuality, Platinum End is very good at doing its own damn thing!

The male protagonist is deadass named "Mirai." Sadly, the girl's name is not "Nikki."

Major setup differences:

There is no Survival Game built into the contest for god. All candidates could just meet up and agree on a new god if they chose to do so. But of course, more than one of them decides that the best course of action is to kill all challengers, so survival definitely becomes a factor FAST. But in this story, unlike Mirai Nikki, there is no real reason NOT to team up with other candidates... provided they aren't planning to off you later.

The god candidates in Future Diary get to have Future Diaries. Obviously. But the god candidates in Platinum End instead get divine powers gifted by their guardian angels. Yes, once you're a candidate, you can see and interact with your guardian angel. Only other candidates can see your angel and your powers. Based on your angel's rank in heaven, you might be gifted either one or a combination of the following: (A) angel wings capable of lightspeed flight, (B) a "red arrow" that makes anyone hit by it instantly adore and love you, making them very susceptible to your wishes... but only for 33 days, and/or (C) a "white arrow" that kills a person instantly on contact.

Mirai's angel, Nasse, might secretly be the series' best character. She's a delight. She does get a lot less focus in the second half of the series, though.

What spawns from this setup is a story that maintains a largely serious tone while veering between very different styles of conflicts. The first half of the series is heavy on suspense and action — complete with the shonen-like tropes of multi-episode showdowns that feature characters standing in place while inner monologues go over their attack plans. :P The second half of the series, by contrast, is heavy on debates about existential concepts and personal morality.

If that sounds good to you, I can recommend 23 out of this series' 24 episodes! But the very last one is, IMO, best ignored/skipped. It's a shitty denouement that, for me, ruined a lot of what came before it while simultaneously failing to answer the questions it raises. However, ep. 23 has a very satisfying conclusion; you'll be good there.

FINALLY! I must warn y'all about this: If you're someone who thought Mirai Nikki's Yukiteru was too "whiny" or too averse to violence? You are not ready for how weak-willed and confrontation-averse the male protagonist of Platinum End is. Somebody took those traits and turned that dial up as HIGH AS POSSIBLE.

For example: For a LOOOONG time, Mirai can't even bring himself to use a "weapon" GUARANTEED TO NOT HURT HIS OPPONENT IN ANY WAY WHATSOEVER, even when said opponent is TRYING THEIR BEST TO MURDER HIM RIGHT FUCKING NOW. He just won't use his guaranteed-peaceful solution, because it still represents some form of "attack." The other person has a one-shot insta-kill attack, and Mirai is over here like "How could I live with myself if I hit this person with this ultra-plushie boxing glove?!" It's truly unbelievable.

#platinum end #anime review #mirai nikki #future diary #tsugumi ohba #Takeshi Obata #anime #mirai kakehashi #yuiteru amano

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milkywaygg · 2 years

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Time's Passing (Ch 3)

The next morning, Darren found it incredible hard to get up the morning as he was wrapped up in blankets and pillows, softer than any he had felt in several years. He felt his stomach growl as he was slowly beginning to regain consciousness, yet Darren felt his eyes were sealed shut. There was no way in hell anyone was gonna be able to get him out of bed.

“Darren, I’ve made breakfast, dear. It’s nice and hot for you.”, Linnie’s voice called out from the kitchen, the smell of waffles and sausages reaching his nose, begging him to get up. After a few minutes of struggling, Darren finally had enough, rubbing his eyes and tossing on the slightly too long pair of pajama pants Linnie had loaned him before leaving the bedroom (Linnie had camped on the couch for the evening). He walked to the kitchen and took a sleep, smiling politely at Linnie, who was already dressed in a lime green shirt-jacket with a white collar, alongside velvet black pants and shoes, as he served the food.

“Good morning, Darren. Did you sleep alright?”, Linnie said, smiling as he took a seat across his son.

“Yeah, I forgot how good a mattress felt.”

“Oh..well you know, I never did like the concept of prisons. How is neglecting other people’s needs going to help them become a better person. I just don’t understand.”

“Papa, Prison’s not supposed to be some vacation, you know. They were trying to punish me. That’s the whole point in prison.”

“I-I know it’s just…I’m sorry Darren. I know I overreact sometimes, but I just can’t help but worry about you three. I…uh..”, Linnie stuttered, unsure of what to say. He knew his adult children now needed their space to figure things out on their own, but Linnie found it especially hard to ignore his over-protective nature. He often found himself calling them on the phone multiple times during his anxious episodes, or if his gut told him something was wrong, but many of those calls went unanswered, leaving Linnie to worry until eventually, he got word that his family was safe.

“So um…”, Linnie tried again, awkwardly, “Did you still want to check on your apartment? I think it might be a good idea to call them first, just to make sure someone can help you, of course.”

“Yeah, don’t seem like a bad idea.”, Darren muttered, barely half-awake still, trying to finish his eggs, “Also try to figure out what they did with my stuff if they did evict me.”

“Oh, I really hope they didn’t sell your things. It doesn’t seem like a very ethical thing for them to do.”, Linnie said softly, drinking his tea. Darren smirked at his father’s innocent nature.

“Who said they cared about ethics? More than likely, all they care about it making a quick buck outta ya. That’s just the way it is.”

“Well, that doesn’t make it right.”, Linnie said, taking the last few bites out of his meal, “Here, when you finish your food, I’ve got a extra coat for you to wear when we head over there. I usually keep it for more formal events, but I think it’ll work until we figure out what’s going on. Just let me know when you’re finished dear.

When they had finished breakfast, Darren put his plate in the kitchen and walked towards the living room where Linnie has laid out a long, tan, velvet coat that looked almost like a suit jacket. He threw it on as Linnie threw on a green coat almost identical to his, alongside a green business hat with a yellow band, making sure his glasses were cleaned before the two left the door, greeted one again with the brutal winter air they had been plagued with for the past month.

The two males were somewhat quiet on their way over to Darren’s apartment complex. Since it wasn’t too far from Linnie’s, they figured they could just fly over there to save their magical energy and conserve magical pollution and fairy dust anyhow. Every now and then though, they’d attempt at some small talk to break the ice, but each conversation seemed to have a long awkward pause in between. Darren had always found Linnie’s nervous, timid nature annoying, but now he couldn’t help but wondering if Linnie was ashamed of him. Sure, the two were never quite as close as a father and son should have been, but Darren always resented Nora for making him feel less than, or useless. He didn’t want that from Linnie was well.

At last, the two reached towards another apartment building, this one a few stories shorter, and the walls seemed to have some graffiti sprayed on them, with flickering streetlights and dumpsters that desperately needed to be taken out. Darren led Linnie into to lobby so no one would try to attack him, and floated up to the receptionist desk; this time an older woman that almost reminded Darren on Nora. She had much darker, almost black green hair tied in a ponytail, and a good bit of wrinkles on her face as she looked down at Darren carelessly, the cigarette barely hanging on in her mouth.

“Can I help you, kid?’, the woman asked lazily, uninterested.

“Hey, I’m the original owner of Apartment #145 and hadn’t been paying my rent on account of an arrest. I was wondering if someone might have subleased it while I was gone or..”

“HA!”, the lady laughed, “In what world would some idiot want to sublease in a dump like this? No kid, no one subleased while you were gone. We decided to evict that apartment, and someone else went ahead and started picking up your slack.”

“Wait hang on, if people don’t wanna sublease here, why the hell would they take a permanent place here?”, Darren demanded, making Linnie nervous in the backroom. The woman shrugged.

“Beats the hell outta me, kid. Maybe they couldn’t afford anything nicer.”

“Well, what happened to my stuff?”

“The government took some of your big stuff like your couch and TV and shit, but I think we’ve got your clothes and bathroom stuff in our office, since those are basically worthless in terms of money.”, the woman said, getting up from her seat, “What’s your name, and can I see some ID?”

“Darren Cosma, and I think I’ve got my wallet on me..”, Darren said, handing the woman his driver’s license, who barely looked at it, snarling at it a little bit.

“Damn you’re ugly. You could use a nose job or something.”

“Are you gonna get my shit or not?!”, Darren snapped, ignoring Linnie calling his name in disapproval. The woman glared back angrily as she unlocked the keys to the office behind her, and slammed a few bags of Darren’s clothes in front of him.

“Here ya go, your highness. Anything else you want from me?”

“Just one question.”, Darren said, trying to calm himself down and keep himself from fighting the woman in front of hm, “How much would rent be for another apartment? Has rent gone up by anything or.”

“Prob about 2,000”

“2,000? For this shit hole?”

“Hey, I don’t set the prices you little bastard! If you wanna go somewhere else, be my damn guest. Would be one less ungrateful ass person to deal with.”, she snarled back in response, “It’s never enough for you people is it? It’s always, my toilet’s broke, there’s roaches in the kitchen, when are the garbage people gonna be here.”

“You know what, Liz? It’s fine.”, Darren said, “Forget it. I’ll get out of your hair. Come on Dad, we should probably get out of here before we get shanked or some shit.”

“Darren, your language, please.”, Linnie said softly, making Liz chuckle a bit as she smiled at Linnie.

“My, aren’t you a cutie. Too bad your son didn’t seem to inherit your manners. Could teach him a thing or two.”, Liz joked, before putting her feet back on the desk. Linnie smiled uncomfortably before heading Darren out the door with his bag of clothes, headed back to his apartment, this time with a lot more to say…and a lot more questions on his mind.

“Well…uhm….that could have gone better.”, he said awkwardly, twiddling his fingers, “I guess you’re stuck with me for a little while, hehe.”

“Uhh I dunno…I don’t wanna be a bother.”

“Sweetie, you’re not a bother. Besides, I don’t really see any other options at the moment.”, Linnie said quietly, “So I guess my question in regards to all of this…now that we know the apartment’s someone else’s, what’s your plan?”

“I dunno. Get a job probably. Try an apartment in a less shitty neighborhood.”

“Oh honestly Darren…”, Linnie sighed, a hint of frustration in his voice, “I really wish you’d stop cursing, and I really hope you do some research next time you find an apartment. You’re more than welcome to stay at my place for as long as you need until you get the money again. I really don’t mind. I just really don’t want you living in a place like this, especially if people aren’t going to treat you kindly.”

“Papa, you’ve really got to stop people so soft with people, I swear.”, Darren said, annoyed before sighing, “Whatever. I didn’t really like her anyways. My shit kept breaking every 5 seconds anyways.”

Linnie sighed once more, getting slightly upset as Darren’s refusal at the no-swearing rule, and his bad attitude, though didn’t want to say anything to agitate him. Linnie couldn’t imagine prison being a nice place to live in, and after everything Darren had been through, he told himself he needed to at least try to be sympathetic. Despite think that however, Linnie couldn’t help but wish Darren would at least give him a “Thank you” every once in a while, and had a hard time remembering when Darren, or really anyone in the family other than Chelsea, had showed him any appreciation. He really didn’t mind helping Darren out, especially given his current conditions, but sometimes, Linnie wondered if everyone around him was starting to take advantage of him.

#fairlyoddparents #fanfiction #drama

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feuqueerfire · 2 years

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Feu's November 2022 BL/GL Wrap-Up

A little monthly wrap-up of all the shows I’ve watched or am watching in November 2022, general thoughts, and ranking of them all.

Recommendation of the month:

Nothing because I hardly watched anything this month rip

Ranking

Love in the Air

About Youth

History 3: Make Our Days Count = Love In The Air Special

MDL Updates - Added to Watchlist:

A section because I’m curious about how many shows I decide to add to my Watch List a month and also the ratio of watching them:adding them

Love in the Air (adding it the day I decide to watch it lol - couldn’t wait till it finished)

Sleep With Me

Roommates of Poongduck 304

She Makes My Heart Flutter

Love in the Air: Special Episode

My Only 12%

Love of Secret

Self

Ghost Host, Ghost House

To Sir, With Love

To Watch List At Start Of Month: 41

To Watch List At End Of Month: 46 (already started GHGH)

Removed from To Watch List:

Nothing

Watching On-Air

Nothing because I don’t want carry over to 2023 :’)

Completely Watched

Love in the Air

Country: Thailand

Release Dates: Aug 18, 2022 - Nov 10, 2022

Watch Via: Youtube (free)

Watch Dates : Nov 2 - 10, 2022

Rating: 6.5/10

Overall Impression: RainPayu - I thought I’d have to ignore more things than I did lol; a few things happen early on and we can ignore that + the fact that there wasn’t consent/discussion for a brat/tamer dynamic and just enjoy it - still a fun dynamic. Character growth and growing into a relationship is like a fair plot for a BL. Enjoyable but not a fave; don’t think about them at all. PaiSky - They took up much more of my brain space than PayuRain, both in good and bad ways. Pai was shitty in the first few eps of their story (mans is fr a stalker, doesn’t take no ew) but he’s also so good for Pai once he stops with the creepy shit and I have to be like... whelp, if you like him. I watched ep 10 and 11 being like “I shall ignore all of Pai’s questionable behavior” and it’s definitely enjoyable that way, I liked ep 10 the best. The show is known for the NC scenes and I enjoyed both pair’s second NC scenes. There were some production issues, like the sound was just shit and the editing for the second half was kinda worse than the first half.

tags: love in the air

Also Appears In: Love In The Air Live Blogging

HIStory3: Make Our Days Count

Country: Taiwan

Release Dates: Oct 16, 2019 - Dec 18, 2019

Watch Via: Youtube (free)

Watch Dates : Nov 13 - 17, 2022

Rating: 5.5/10

Overall Impression: in the beginning i was really annoyed by several characters (esp Haoting and Sun Bo) and after I stopped being annoyed, I also stopped caring oof. Don’t think I’ll think about the show or characters ever again. Also am not gonna watch ep 19/20. I liked the occasional scenes of Haoting and his sister; I am lover of sibling relationships.

Also Appears In: History 3: Make Our Days Count Live Blogging

About Youth

Country: Taiwan

Release Dates: Aug 29, 2022 - Sep 19, 2022

Watch Via: Youtube (free)

Watch Dates : Nov 18 - 26, 2022

Rating: 6/10

Overall Impression: It’s a cute show, I was enjoying it but then the GMMTV 2023 showcase happened and I stopped caring about this. It was okay and cute enough but won’t stick with me. The OST is nice though, I like the “slow motion” song

tags: about youth

Also Appears In: About Youth Live Blogging

Nov 21: GMMTV 2023 Showcase, it’s like watching a whole show. 2023 GMMTV Showcase Post

Love in the Air: Special Episode

Country: Thailand

Release Dates: Nov 26, 2022

Watch Via: :>

Watch Dates : Nov 27, 2022

Rating: 5.5/10

Overall Impression: holy shit, sound issues. uhh I thought the Daddy thing would be like 1 bleep in the middle of an NC scene but it seems like it’s a Whole Thing rip (Sky laughing and saying “Paw-krap” is cute and endearing though); anyway, skipping most of that scene bc it’s just not for me. lmfao sorry SkyPai’s “Sky playing games on his phone while Pai’s getting handsy and kissy with him” works incredibly well for me (desperate Pai? ignoring? bruh it’s so aksdfl;kjfd) but Sky’s phone screen being completely black was killing me lmfao Also Sky grabbing fistfuls of Pai’s hair gets me every time. Pai, girl, why did you jump up like that when Sky came into the restaurant but I’ll forgive it because I like when Sky gives Pai forehead kisses. It’s not really cute that two best friends have apparently forgotten how to just have fun with each other and be without their bfs but whatever ig. I really like the way Sky and Pai play like first Sky ignoring Pai during foreplay and now Sky making Pai not touch or do anything and Pai being eager puppy in both situations lmfao Pai’s “Sometimes I’ve got a feeling that you’re mean.” exactly, so true i love dom sky with a mean streak and wish to see fort play a younger seme once again. A little marriage equality PSA. Anyway, as expected form the TharnType and Don’t Say No specials, nothing really happened but I had fun with the SkyPai NC scene dynamics. Also I don’t rmr when (maybe when Sky brought food to the office?) but in the special and also in the series, Pai would coo and hum at Sky sometimes and it’s seriously the best

tags: love in the air

Finally posted the KhaoFirst Content Index post lol months later

Dang, I hardly watched anything this month because aside from watching LITA for like 10 + 1 days and not watching anything for 4 days because of GMMTV, I’ve been meh about actually watching things and being engaged. So many days where I didn’t watch even an ep.

Currently watching Ghost Host, Ghost House as the last BL before I embark on my 2 week rewatch journey of stuff I enjoyed in 2022.

#tracking #general bl #love in the air

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cyantomatos · 1 year

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I had started ESWF a while ago and lost it before I finished — just now finally found it again and finally caught up after going insane for months trying to remember it and this is just such a beautiful piece of writing I had to come scream at you about it. The plot? The characters? The dialogue? Ellaria calling her Sunshine? Flawless. Amazing. Showstopping. Brilliant. It is a crime that this doesn’t have thousands more reblogs and likes!

I love love love that you took the “girl falls into the story” kind of trope and made it interesting and captivating and not cookie cutter, and I love the journey she’s on with magic and Amphise. (Also Amphise by the way? I adore her and she’s wonderful and hilarious and such a perfect mentor character!!!)

Also her walking away once she thinks Ellaria and Oberyn are focused on the baby??? MY HEART.

Of course no pressure to get the next chapters out but I will be waiting patiently and excitedly to see what’s next for them!

I opened this ask around family and had to genuinely try not to cry, I love you anon 😭

You have no idea how much this helped, because I came up with the plot for ESWF in the spring of 2021, so I've known the ending for two and a half years now and I genuinely cannot tell anymore if it's an interesting plot or if I'm writing something boring and predictable. For the last like year this has been pretty much the only thing I've wrote, minus a couple things here and there, because writing has become such a slog for me recently but I am determined to see this series through to the end, and knowing someone was looking for it and enjoys it as much as you do is such a treasure.

I don't even remember what the original plot bunny that started it was, I just remember laying on my bed in my dorm after we'd watched more episodes of The Clone Wars working out a story with my friends about a girl that gets sucked into another world to meet her soulmates and being so excited about the concept, and it makes me so happy to know that others are excited about it too ❤

A side note, ESWF has actually evolved somewhat since I outlined it originally. For one thing, we're actually three chapters over what we were supposed to be at this point in the story because a couple plot points ended up needing more space, and there's a couple things that got scratched entirely. Originally it was just Oberyn she was avoiding, and by this point Ellaria had kissed her (which was going to work into Ellaria teasing Oberyn that she was the first to kiss Reader and holding it over his head, which I still want to work in somehow). The confrontation with Rylan demanding she marry him originally didn't have Ellaria involved(it was also much less of a "confrontation" in the outline and more of her trying to politely reject him), and Oberyn was supposed to save her from that and then the "I won't be another conquest" convo happened directly after. It's certainly been a lesson in not sticking too closely to the plan and letting the plot unfold as it happens rather than worrying about your outline!

I also looked back at my outline just now and saw "Reader is given the choice to work on these powers or let them eventually fade away, decides to work on them" which is hilarious considering I did write into cannon that she could go insane and start toppling kingdoms if she ignores them.

#ESWF #asks #i love getting asks #nice people saying nice things #literally had to try not to cry in front of family #because I did not want to explain why to them

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just-jordie-things · 3 years

Text

A Lover And A Fighter - Richie Tozier

word count: 3122 warnings: swearing, sight sexual harassment summary: Richie promised (y/n) that he wouldn’t get into fights anymore, but sometimes he just can’t help himself. Especially when it comes to protecting her.

___

It was an understatement to say that Richie was protective of you. The boy was downright insane about it. Everyone in Derry knew not to fuck with (y/n), not unless they wanted Richie Tozier tracking them down and beating them half to death.

You’d given him a talk numerous times. But not once did they work, it always went in one ear and out the other..

He’d beaten up three ex boyfriends, a couple guys that looked at you the wrong way, and Greta Keene. He was proud of that amount.

But he’d promised that he would try his best not to act out on your behalf anymore. And you made him pinky promise. That’s a big deal. And he didn’t want to break your trust or your promise.

However… once he walked past Henry Bowers and his dumbass friends, and heard your name being mentioned, he couldn’t stop himself from getting involved.

“What was that?” He spoke before he could think things through.

The boys turned to him, each bearing a scowl that wasn’t out of character.

“I said, (y/n’s) not fucking worth it,” Henry practically growled out. “Now why don’t you fuck off, Tozier?”

“Your damn fucking right it’s not worth it,” Richie spat back, turning away, doing the right thing. “I’d break your goddamn nose” He muttered under his breath.

“It’s not worth it to try and get in her pants,” Henry called out before Richie could walk far enough away.

He stopped in his tracks.

“Cause she’s such a slut anyways, it’s not a real victory to fuck-”

Richie had never whipped around so fast. And with the punch he delivered went all common sense, and all the promises and reassurances he’d given you to prove he was going to ‘mature’ as you’d begged him to do. ___

“Hey, Richie,” You held your phone between your ear and shoulder as you painted your toes. “This is like, my fifth message… so… call me back, I guess. Okay, bye”

You sighed as you set the phone back on it’s holster. Richie wasn’t the type of guy to stand you up, especially on taco tuesday. And even if something came up, he always always, called. But now he couldn’t even bother to return one of your calls, leaving you to assume that he was upset with you for some reason, and therefore ignoring you.

You weren’t sure what you did, and at this point, you also weren’t sure that he was going to tell you either.

When Richie didn’t want to talk to someone, he was the damn best at avoiding them.

But he’d never given you the cold shoulder. And there was a time that you’d thought he never would. Richie was your best friend, you trusted and confided in him more than anyone else, even the other Losers. And in the last seven years of being his best friend, he’d never treated you this way. In fact, he always treated you amazingly, like a princess, it was very surprising actually, the way he cared about you.

It was that care that always led him to picking fights where he shouldn’t be, though. It started with your ex boyfriend. He broke up with you once a ‘better, prettier’ girl showed interest (his words), and the next thing you knew, Richie was throwing him against the lockers.

When your next boyfriend straight up cheated on you, Richie took care of him too.

He broke the third one’s nose.

And then there was the Greta Keene incident… Beverly may have let it slip that Greta had been writing nasty rumors about you in the girls bathrooms. And Richie declared that he didn’t have a problem beating up a girl if it was justified (and if that girl had man arms). That was when you drew the line, and made Richie swear to try and control his anger. And he pinkie promised to work on it, and that he wouldn’t get into any more fights over you.

You weren’t sure why he got so enraged over these things. It was just drama, and you found it pointless that he tried to bring you justice, since he was so reckless about it.

It was getting late, and you knew that Richie wasn’t going to return your calls. So you finished painting your toenails blue, and decided to spend the night in your room, reading, alone.

Even though you should have been eating a bunch of tacos and gossiping with Richie.

Just as you got situated in bed, and had turned off the overhead light in exchange for the soft glow of your lamp on the bedside table, there was a knock on the window.

When you glanced over, you could tell it was Richie by his silhouette, and you frowned slightly.

Nonetheless, you got up and unlocked the window, before sliding it open.

“Where the hell have you been?” You asked.

He could tell that you couldn’t see his face very well.

“Busy, you gonna let me in?” He grinned.

“Richie, it’s-” You glanced over your shoulder to the alarm clock on your table, before glaring back at him. “-midnight. Are you kidding me? Did I do something to piss you off?”

“What? (y/n/n), no-”

“Then how come you were dodging all my calls? And you’re seven hours late?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest..

Richie crawled in through the window, even though you hadn’t invited him in yet. But he figured it was only a matter of time before you cave anyways.

Your distressed face disappeared as you caught sight of him now that he was in the light. His left eye was bruising, and so was his right cheekbone. Along with a split lip and a bloody nose, it was clear what had happened.

“Oh, Richie…” You mumbled, hand reaching up to cover your mouth as your eyes widened at the sight of him. “Tell me you didn’t-”

“Look it’s not what you think-” Richie tried to protest.

“Don’t give me that shit”

He knew he fucked up, because you weren’t yelling. Your voice was soft, and low. You were heartbroken.

He stared down at the ground, too anxious to look at you anymore. Not when you looked so disappointed in him.

“You promised- you-you pinky promised me-”

“I know-! I know and I’m sorry, really, I’m really fucking sorry” He told you, desperately hoping that you’d forgive him.

You shook your head at him, and gestured for him to sit before you left the room. Richie was the most frustratingly complicated person that you knew, and it drove you insane. Why he couldn’t just walk away and not beat the shit out of people… you weren’t sure. But it really hurt you that he didn’t even seem to try, and he broke his promise.

Richie was sitting on the side of your bed when you came back into the room. He chuckled as he eyed the first aid kit in your hands, the same one that you’ve used the last four or five times you dealt with the aftermath of his episodes of rages.

“You don’t have t-”

“Yes I do” You cut him off and unpacked what you’d need.

You were upset, you were fuming, actually. It angered you that Richie broke his promise, not even a month after making it. That promise was important to you, because he was important to you. And now here he was, waiting to be fixed up by you once again after he so stupidly, so recklessly got himself beaten to a pulp.

But no matter how angry you were, you remained silent. Dabbing at the excess blood under his nose, which at least wasn’t bleeding anymore. And when you were finished with his cheek, you moved on to rubbing cream over the bruise on his cheek. Richie’s eyes fell shut as he sighed in relief at the feeling of the cool lotion, and your gentle fingers.

He knew your silence wasn’t a good thing. In fact, it was the worst thing. It meant he messed up beyond redemption. And he’d never fucked up that bad before. Sure, he’d pissed you off and frustrated you on the daily, but that was just the hallmark of his friendship, and it was never anything serious. Just when he dragged you out in the middle of the night for slushies, or got you in trouble in class because he was running his mouth. He’d never made you this genuinely upset before.

“(y/n)-”

“Save it” You muttered before he could even start with the apologies.

That was another hallmark of his friendship. You knew what came next. The apologies, the excuses, the begging for your forgiveness, followed by a playful ‘you know you love me, you need me’ and puppy dog eyes that you couldn’t refuse. Except tonight, you might just be able to.

He took you by surprise when he didn’t protest, and snapped his mouth shut. Your eyes met his for a moment, before you started applying a smaller amount of lotion on the bruise surrounding his eye. It was going to look a lot worse in the morning, but this would help with the pain now.

You hated that your heart ached for him right now. You hated that you wanted to cry and hold him and make him feel better. Because you were so fucking mad-

“I don’t understand,” The words suddenly spilled out of your mouth, as if your mind just couldn’t take them swimming around in your head anymore. “I just- I- I don’t fucking get it”

He nodded, ducking his head down, only for you to lift it back up by his chin and continue with the lotion.

“I care about you, dumbass, and all I asked, which I thought was simple, all I asked was for you to stop with the fighting-”

“I know” He mumbled back.

You stared at him skeptically, wondering if he really did know, or if he’d show up again in a few weeks with the same battered face and guilty look in his eyes. Richie didn’t look back at you. He couldn’t.

“Who?” You asked, trying to soften your voice so he wouldn’t whither away from you like he was doing right now.

“You’re not gonna like it” Richie answered, fingers pinching at your bedsheets in an attempt to distract himself. From the pain that burned across his whole face, or from the intensity in your eyes, he wasn’t sure, but he needed the distraction.

He hadn’t had a smoke in months, but it sounded pretty damn good right now.

“Well, newsflash, I don’t like any of this,” You told him. “But I think I deserve to at least know what happened”

Of course you do, Richie hung his head in his hands. You deserve so, so much better.

You watched as he rubbed his palms over his eyes, and it took everything in your power not to take his hands and hold them in yours, to tell him it was okay and you forgave him.

“Bowers”

He muttered the single word without even looking at you. But he didn’t have to look at you to know exactly what you looked like in that moment. You probably had a dropped jaw and furrowed brows. Disappointment, disgust, anger, all displayed in one heartbreaking look.

“Richie…” You murmured without meaning to. “Why? Why would you-”

“I had to, okay?” He shot up suddenly. “I know that you hate it, and as soon as I swung I- I knew I fucked up, but I had to”

You wanted to argue it, argue that there’s always another option, that he can always walk away. But you bit your tongue. Something about the way he spoke told you that there was more to this than his stupidity.

“I’m sorry, (y/n/n), I am. But I… I don’t regret it”

Your heart sunk all the way down to your stomach. Richie had such a toll on your emotions and he didn’t even know it.

“Tell me what happened” You said quietly, and shifted closer to him.

You wanted him to know he had your undivided attention, and that he should have the chance to at least explain what happened. You pulled your leg up to rest on the mattress, and turned your body to face him.

Richie looked at you before looking back down at his hand, which was now fisted in your blankets.

“Richie,” You hummed, brows furrowing as you saw how reluctant he was to opening up. “Tell me” The words were so soft, it was almost inaudible.

You wondered what Henry could have done that Richie didn’t want to tell you about. He must have really outdone himself.

“He was just talking shit-”

“Richie,” You cut off his bullshit before he could even start. “Come on, the truth”

“It’s not-”

“I deserve to know, Tozier! Whatever it is, I don’t care, okay? Just tell me-”

“He said you weren’t worth sleeping with!”

Just like that, you’d gotten him to snap.

And you shut up instantly, shocked by the outburst. His words processed slowly in your head.

“He said it wasn’t worth trying because you’re- because you’re a slut, and it wasn’t fucking true!” Richie continued to yell. Not at you, he just couldn’t contain his own anger anymore.

And you thought you were pissed.

“Motherfucker had your name in his nasty fucking mouth and he was telling his buddies fucking lies and I couldn’t- fuck I couldn’t walk away. I should’ve fucking killed him”

You were staring at him, speechless. You should’ve known it was about you, Richie was always so fiercely protective of you. And Henry’s wouldn’t be the first nose that he’d broken protecting you. But this wasn’t like before. He’d beaten on your ex boyfriends after they broke your heart. Henry hadn’t said or done anything to you, he was just doing what boys do. (Make shit up because they think it makes them impressive when really they’re even shittier than they look)

“I didn’t mean to break your promise,” Richie huffed. His face was slightly flushed after his mini tantrum. His hands grabbed both of yours, holding them close to him. “I’m so sorry I put you through this again”

You were still silent, but he knew this wasn’t a bad silence. You were still processing, still trying to figure out how to forgive him while making sure this was the last time he crawls through your window looking like this.

“I hope you know that it came from a place of- of caring about you,” He added. “Caring about you too much, I guess” He mumbled as an afterthought.

Your stupid lovesick heart skipped a beat at the sweet words. Richie wasn’t one for words, at all, but he somehow managed to say the most loving things without even realizing it.

“I can’t promise it won’t happen again, that much is clear. And if Bowers says one more goddamn thing about your ass I’ll fucking string him up- I will- but I can promise I’ll try, okay? I will, I’ll really try”

He squeezed your hands a little bit, hoping you believed him, hoping you trusted him.

Your eyes flickered between his for a moment, and you could see in them that he was being sincere, and that he was broken up over hurting you.

“You…” He started to speak, but trailed off unsurely. “You deserve better” He finished.

His eyes flickered to yours for a brief moment, before he turned away.

You shake your head, before you let go of one of his hands, and took his chin between your thumb and index finger, turning him to look back at you.

“(y/n/n)-”

You cut him off when you leaned in and gently kissed him, trying to be mindful of his split lip.

Richie’s eyes remained focused on your closed ones, too stunned to close them, or really kiss her back.

He wanted to kick himself when you pulled away. He managed to miss his fucking chance because he was too slow to do anything about it.

Your eyes fluttered open in such a beautiful way Richie swore you were holding his heart in your perfect little hands.

His brows were furrowed like you’d confused him, and you absolutely had. He hadn’t expected you to kiss him.

“Why’d you do that?” He asked breathlessly, and your cheeks burned pink.

Your shoulders raised a bit in a shrug, and you had to bite your lip to keep from smiling too much.

“I just… wanted to” You whispered.

A smile twitched on the corner of Richie’s lips before his hand cupped your cheek, and he pulled you in again, so he could kiss you right this time.

Your lips were just as soft, if not softer, than he’d imagined they’d be. And he’d imagined countless times what they’d feel like. Daydreaming in class, before he fell asleep, and being right by your side for the last seven years.

Kissing you was bliss.

He did it again, taking your face in both of his hands and pulling you impossibly closer. He could feel your lips smiling against his own, and once again, his heart was beating out of his chest trying to get to yours.

“I’m in love with you, (y/n/n)” He murmured when you parted, and you laughed softly.

“That makes sense,” You replied, reaching a hand up to play with the curls on the back of his neck. “And… I love you too”

Richie gave you a sunshine smile, which you couldn’t help but return.

“I’m still upset, by the way,” You told him, still playing with the curls. “But only cause I’m tired of seeing you covered in bruises, okay?”

He nodded, and you leaned your cheek further against the palm of his hand.

“I promise to try” He said, and then raised his pinky.

You looked from his hand and then back to him, a slight glare in your eyes.

“Come on, just do it,” He urged, you rolled your eyes, but he was persistent. “Just link fuckin’ pinkies with me”

With a giggle you hooked your pinky with his, and held it for a moment.

“You want to go get tacos now?” He asked, and you grinned, nodding your head.

“You read my mind” You answered, and followed him back out the window.

It dawned on you that Richie was both your lover and your fighter. And he held those titles proudly.

As he took your hand and walked alongside you down the street, he decided there were no other title he’d want to be labeled, besides yours. ___

taglist: @thegr8kush

xoxo ~ jordie

#it #it chapter one #it chapter two #it fanfiction #richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier scenario #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier fanfiction #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard x reader #bill hader #bill hader x reader

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superdanverstrio · 3 years

Text

Here for you no matter what.PT1

Summary: Kara And Alex find out that your in a toxic relationship with your partner, and they help you out of it.

Warning: Domestic abuse, toxic relation ship, bruises

Note: Your kara and Alex’s sibling.

You met them 2 years ago, the first year you guys spent together was great, you really felt like they were the one. But in less then a month, All there love for you vanished and was replaced by anger. You don't really know what happen but one day they came back from work really angry, you try to ask them why but they just yelled at you, when you persisted they got up from where they where sitting and slapped you hard, not hard enough to leave a bruise but hard enough so it stung. After they did, they immediately apologized and told you they'd never do it again, and how sorry they were. That was the first red flag but you really thought that what you guys had was love, so you ignored it.

The next day, they came back from work, and the same thing happen, the only thing is that this time they did it harder, hard enough to leave a bruise and they didn't apologized after. You told your self that it was fine, you knew they were just stressed for there upcoming promotion and once they got it every thing would go back to normal. But now you had a bruise on you cheek and had lunch with your sisters the next day so you had to cover it up somehow.

You managed to cover the bruise well enough so your sisters didn’t notice anything or they just didn't say anything, you guys spend the day together. you were suppose to come back to your apartment at 7:30 but your sisters manage to convince you to stay for one more episode of Homeland so you came back at 8:30. When you came back they were already waiting for you in the living room. "where the hell were you. You said you'd be back at 7:30" they said standing up from there spot on the couch and walking toward you.

"I'm sorry I was with kara and alex, they convince me to watch more of..." You didn't get to finish because they cut you of. " Oh did they, or you decided to cheat on me with that James guy!" They yelled inches away from your face. You knew they could easily get jealous but it still hurt that they thought you could ever do that. " N-No I-I would never." You step back until your back hit the door, they grabbed your wrist hard, you tried to wiggle out of they're grip but they were too strong. " Please let go your... your hurting me." You said.

The next day you came to work with an other bruise, you tried to cover it up with makeup but it was still visible. You hope no one would notice it but since you work at the same place as your older sister you doubted she wouldn't notice it. you sat at your desk working on some stuff when you heard the concern voice of your sister. "What happen to you?" "Uh i um got attacked by a door." You chuckled nervously. She raised an eyebrows at you, not convince. " Hey don’t look at me like that. We're not all invincible." Kara shook her head and laugh. "Anyway do you want to grab lunch with me?" She ask " Yeah sure just let me get this done."

For the next 1and a half month you'd show up at work with new bruises, you'd make up some lame excuses for them but you were starting to run out of them. Your sister were starting to question you more about those bruises. Even one time at movie night. "Y/N?" Alex ask. "Mm?" "Well um... There's not many ways to ask this so I’m just gonna go ahead and say it.” Alex took a deep breath. “Y/N, is someone hurting you?” You just froze, you didn’t think they were suspecting anything, You thought you made good enough excuses for your bruises. “What? No, no one is hurting me.” “ Y/N you come to work with new bruises almost everyday, we just want to make sure your ok.” kara says with concern in her voice. “Guys you know I’m clumsy all the time.” “Y/N please you know you can talk to us.” Alex tried. “ I know i can but there's just nothing to talk about, i know you both care about me but believe me I’m fine they’re just bruises.”

After that they stop arguing with you but you knew they weren’t gonna drop it for good, and you didn’t plan on telling them what’s going on. You knew it was stupid, but you honestly thought your boy/girlfriend would change, and you really believed them when they said they loved you because before all this they were the best partner you ever had, and you desperately wanted things to get back the way they were before. Even though you were sure they would change, you couldn’t stop thinking during the ride home ‘What if they don’t change’. Maybe if you broke up with them things would be better.

When you stepped back in your apartment they immediately started to yell at you for no reason, you could see that they were drunk again, you really weren’t in the mood for that shit, so you did the one thing you thought would end all this. “I’m breaking up with you!” you yelled back at them. They just stared at you for a second, you weren’t sure if they were angry or sad. Your question was answered when they advance toward you and rapped there hands around your throat and squeezed, you grabbed there wrists trying to get them off your neck. ”Please let go I’m sorry.” You desperately tugged at there hands, tears started to brim your eyes. The lack of air was making you dizzy, and your legs were threatening to give out from under you, dark spot were starting to appear in your vision.

You were on the verge of passing out, after a moment they finally let go. You fell to your knees coughing and grabbing at your neck. You looked up at them tears streaming down your face. “You bitch!” They said before punching you in the nose. Blood started to leak from your nose and on your lips. You actually wonder if you were going to get out of here alive.

Back at Kara’s apartment

“ Kar?” alex ask sitting back down with an other glass of wine. “ What.’ ‘ Do you think Y/N is ok.” “I don’t know, I’m really worry about them, What if there is really someone hurting them. Or maybe they’re telling the truth and they’re just clumsy.” Kara said trying to reassure her self. “ I don’t think they’re clumsy enough to bruise themselves every day.” “ Your right, i think-” Kara started but got cut off by a set of knock at the door. kara got up and open the door, when she opened the door she saw nia leaning at the door, out of breath. “Nia? Are you ok, What’s wrong.” Kara ask seeing the girls panic expression. “ you need to get to Y/N apartment now!” “ Why?” Alex ask getting up from the couch. “ I had a dream, and they’re hurt badly.” Both sisters looked at each other. “ I’m gonna go check on them.” Kara said. “ I’ll come with you.’ Alex said putting her jacket on.

Kara flew to your apartment as fast as she could, When they got there she first knock at your door. When you didn’t answer kara decided to us her x-ray vision. She gasp when she saw you laying on the floor unmoving, she broke the door handle and went in. When Alex saw you she gasp and immediately ran to you. Kara turned you on your side to see your face that was covered of bruises and dried blood. “ What happen to them?” “ I don’t know but they need medical attention now.”

#supergirl #supergirl x reader #kara danvers #kara danvers x reader #alex danvers #alex danvers x reader #Nia Nal #lena luthor #domestic abuse #toxic love #toxic partners

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sweetbunnykook · 3 years

Text

Only You (10)

Word Count: 11,267 // [SPOILER IN WARNINGS] angst (mention of double homicide, gore/blood, miscarriage, mistreatment of a corpse, panic attack, meltdown, blackmail, gun, abuse), toxic relationship, manipulation

Photographer!Jungkook X Noona!Reader

Summary: Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.

A/N: Thank you for waiting so long! Please let me know if you enjoyed this chapter if you want to. Enjoy! - 🐰

The distant sound of television in your living room.

‘We bring breaking news…Kim Namjoon, the heir of…yesterday morning…in questioning…accessory of the crime…kidnapping and killing of pregnant fiancée…found motive…’

The splatter of blood on his skin, the taste of blood on your tongue. Your whole world melts into a puddle of red. You feel him inside you, around your throat, his grip tightening, his kisses searing against your lips to pin your tongue underneath his.

A whisper against your ear.

‘You’ve made me the happiest man in the world, noona.’

You wake up with a start, gasping for air as you reach over to where Jungkook should be only to be met with a gray rabbit plushie. It has been a week since the night your life changed. Whether for the best or the worse, you can’t tell just yet. You rub a hand over your stomach where you’re cramping, taking deep breaths through your nose and exhaling through your lips to calm the panic of hearing and seeing red in your dreams once more. The brain is a relentless organ. No matter how much you force yourself to forget, to justify the past, to let your anger roam free, your dreams follow you as soon as your body succumbs to exhaustion.

Jungkook gifted you a bottle of melatonin for such nights but it was rather hard to sleep when every thought goes back to the sound of Yori’s lifeless body swallowed by the rustle of a black plastic trash bag. It’s a stark dichotomy from the images you have of her in her soft chiffon dresses, bleached hair swaying in the wind, her lithe frame moving effortlessly between the trees in your family garden. To think that you would lose her in such a way is unfathomable even when there is a sick, hideous part of you that felt almost relieved that you’re alone at last. Her existence only served as a reminder of your humiliation.

It’s why you’d spent so many weeks and months back then cursing her – hoping she miscarry during your most vulnerable nights, hoping Namjoon would leave her for another woman so she gets a taste of how you’ve suffered; yet when the day comes when she’s truly gone, your heart and mind is restless.

As your stomach settles, the residual guilt rising like bile up your throat gives you a newfound reason to tell yourself you’re still very much a good person. You’re still the woman Jungkook loves for your understanding and hardworking spirit. Partly feeling guilt towards her death meant you still loved her in your true, good nature – or at least you love the memory of what she used to mean to you. The girl you remembered – the girl who would make crowns for you with wildflowers, paint your sleeping form, talk about all the men she wrapped around her fingers – was long gone before you found her lying at the end of a staircase. Your mother can’t kill someone who was already dead in your eyes.

The body your boyfriend stuffed in his freezer didn’t deserve your kindness nor repentance. It’s why you were able to waltz right into work the next morning from Jungkook’s studio, drinking the same cup of coffee at your desk, working the same files, and mentoring interns with a smile albeit the sudden panic episodes had caused you to empty your stomach after each meal.

You’ve run out of fingernails to bite. You’d expected the world to crumble and fall at your feet in the following days but everything feels oddly normal. The sun still rose. Flowers still bloomed. And Jungkook still loved you.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, the thin sheen of sweat on your body makes the valley down your spine tingle, prompting you to reach back to scratch your skin raw. When you look over at the nightstand, the red digital numbers on your clock glare into your irises through the sleep haze – it’s barely two o’clock in the morning. With a groan, you stretch an arm towards the floor and pull Jungkook’s shirt towards your feet before bringing it to your chest. The half-buttoned cotton still smells like him. Like comfort.

When you slip the black long-sleeved shirt over your head and roll it down your body, buttoning up to cover your chest, you’re struck with the realization that tonight is the night Jungkook must finish the job. He hasn’t left your side since the accident, treating you with the utmost care, his prying eyes following your every move to the point you ended up pressing your lips against his each and every time just to cease his worries. His fingers melt like butter on your skin when he cups your jaw in search of any anxieties you might have hidden from him. It’s evident that he’s in awe and in confusion at your strength. Maybe he thought too highly of your capacity for forgiveness; like the loud saccharine-faced women you work with, you’re just a tantalizing red apple infested with rot beneath.

And it’s with that very same façade you faced the detectives.

The police came knocking at your door two days ago. Jungkook promptly informs you that there was nothing you need to worry about for now except keeping your composure.

The two men explained the situation – a vague description about Yori’s disappearance, suspicion with Namjoon’s prolonged stay abroad, and odd evidence that she may be kidnapped or blackmailed – just as Jungkook predicted. You feigned passive concern as they took your statement about the last time you saw your former friend, inquired about the wedding incident, and noted the places she could be from your childhood memories. You answered every question with the calmness of an experienced storyteller, comforted when Jungkook confirmed your alibi with his hand wrapped around your fingers to keep you grounded when you trembled. A few angelic tears you shed hearing about Yori softened the mens’ heart although they didn’t have a single inkling of a different kind of fear buried inside you now that there is an investigation ongoing.

There was something about the glimmer of their handcuffs that made you fear for Jungkook playing the role of the clueless but supportive boyfriend like a seasoned actor. The thought of the men pinning your boyfriend on the ground and ripping him away from you had you hurling digested dinner over the toilet shortly after they left. Your tears must have done much of the heavy lifting during the interrogation that even Jungkook had asked if you were feeling alright, thumbs rubbing back and forth over your cold, wet cheeks.

You can’t live without him and if he were to be taken away from you, you wouldn’t know what to do. You’ve learned to fear his absence more than his capability for murder. Such thoughts threaten to cut the last strings of sanity holding you together.

Despite Jungkook being there for you every step of the way, he was powerless when it comes to protecting you from the stench of office gossip that you must endure for the sake of calming suspicions about your outside activities. It was obvious what your coworkers thought of you as soon as the news came flooding about Yori’s sudden disappearance. Whether you feign concern or not, there have already been rumors about a sabotaged pregnancy. Their fake kindness and whispers gave you the freedom to look as disastrous as you feel.

If only they knew that the true reasons for your sunken eyes and weight loss are far, far beyond their comprehension. If only they knew you were on your hands and knees scrubbing bodily fluids; the longer their mouths yapped, the more you thought about the red on your fingertips, how satisfying it felt to watch it spiral down the drain.

The first week was grueling but the second week – this week – when the voices of the two detectives, blood-filled memories, and buried dreams resurface, you’re completely cornered. Oh, how much you crave Jungkook’s touch, his gentleness, his ability to read your mind and body even more now that he’s gone to settle your debts.

You take your cellphone resting on the nightstand next to the digital clock, place the rabbit plushie under your arm, and make your way out of the bedroom. The condo is dead silent except for the muffled cracklings of vehicles running over pebbles on the highway nearby. It’s awfully cold but the sight of the fridge makes you clench your jaw and turn towards the couch, sliding onto the padded surface when another pang of panic hits your stomach, leaving you to press your abdomen inwards with the heel of your palm. You grab your laptop from the dirty coffee table with your free hand and place it on your lap, cursing once more when your nerves refuse to ignore the coolness of the aluminum surface. You squeeze the soft fur ears of the plushie, but it doesn’t feel the same as holding onto your boyfriend’s fingers in times of need.

It’s cold in the room, you note once more, but Yori’s body curled in Jungkook’s freezer is even colder.

Would he let her thaw before burying her? Would he burn her somewhere in the woods? Dump her in a lake? Would he admire her beauty first and brush his fingers down her cold cheeks, feeling pitiful about the woman who humiliated you just because she was carrying a child?

You shake your head, watching the laptop come to life. You need a distraction. Any kind of distraction to forget that your boyfriend and Yori might be alone in a room right now as if they’re on a little date.

The cramp twisting your innards isn’t caused by panic this time. It’s jealousy.

…

Taehyung is exhausted to the marrow of his bones. If he didn’t consider Jungkook to be his only family left, he would never have flown to South Korea on such short notice. It’s expensive to leave clients on hold when he’s spending a fortune every month lining bribery pockets. He hopes Jungkook is prepared to work without pay for the next month. Judging by how eager the younger man is to see him, he decided to cut him some slack in the end. That’s what families do.

Right now, Taehyung is only annoyed to find out that his partner – who had already left the refrigerated room – brought his least favorite pliers when he asked her to lay the tools on the table next to the body. The pliers are black but coppered with rust and prone to slips with its slippery silicone padding resting where his gloved fingers would go. He doesn’t even know when or how he came across such an awful tool but he’ll have to make do.

He turns back to Jungkook who is sitting on a plastic-covered stool across him on the other side of the body, brows scrunched together as he looks down at the nude woman’s slightly protruding but stiff stomach. There’s no sense of discomfort on his face; a good sign, Taehyung notes, as it has been some time since Jungkook has dealt with a body. Yet he finds himself uncomfortable when looking down at the vicious woman he’d heard an earful about. It’s not a good omen to cut open a pregnant woman, not when Jungkook has been preparing for parenthood ever since he dumped your birth control down the toilet.

“Are you sure it’s wise to leave her alone?”

Jungkook scratches behind his ears, watching Taehyung’s fingers pry open Yori’s frozen mouth to reach her teeth. The older man places a balled cloth inside the mouth before lining the plier towards the molars, gripping the frozen teeth between the iron clamps before yanking the tool to one side. The tooth pops out with a crisp snap, leaving a deep black hole in Yori’s pale gums. Freezing her made cleaning extremely easy – Taehyung can’t help but pat himself in the back when Jungkook seemed to remember all that he’s taught him about the work. He is, however, a bit disgusted that the body was kept in the same fridge as food. Hell, even an experienced butcher like himself has some decency not to do such a thing.

“I think it’s fine,” Jungkook murmurs, watching Taehyung’s sturdy hands yank each tooth out of her gums with razor-sharp precision. “She’s been sleeping better than the first week so I don’t think she’ll be awake by the time I get back.”

“She’s not like us,” Taehyung scolds, his baritone voice low. A puff of smoke dissipates in the cool air as he speaks. The younger man lowers his head; there should be a limit to the favors he ask for and he’d crossed professional boundaries one too many times. “It’s a big risk you’re taking.”

Jungkook juts his lower lip out like a child filled with remorse. “I know, hyung. But...I trust her and she trusts me. Or else we wouldn’t have gotten this far.”

Taehyung hums at that, finding it rather odd that a girl with a fine upbringing had the guts to do cleaning work (poorly as expected, according to Jimin showing up with the rest of his crew to spot-clean the rest).

“Trust can be an expensive thing, Jungkook.”

Desperate to appease the older man, Jungkook snaps his gloves in place and reaches over to take an electric saw in his hand, watching the silver glimmer under the lights before standing. He waits until Taehyung finishes the removal, placing the teeth neatly in a plastic cup, before lining the blades to Yori’s pale neck and quickly sawing down her esophagus. The saw groans as it hits her spine but with Taehyung’s palms pushing the saw down further, Yori’s head comes apart clean from the rest of her torso. Under the sharp blue lights her insides look tar black. Such a pretty exterior holding such ugliness inside of her, Jungkook thinks, before he shakes the thought away.

Her beauty can never be compared to you. You’re a goddess. And her? A mere insect to put back into the earth. Yori had caused you immense pain and he would see to it that she will be treated with utmost disrespect.

“What’s your plan after this?”

Jungkook moves the woman’s hair away from her face then removes the cloth from inside her mouth. He then pushes her jaw up to cover her black gums.

“I’m going to try to convince her to leave work for a while. Hopefully...she’ll be pregnant by then and it’ll make it easier for her to marry me.”

Taehyung nods. “Then?”

“T-Then…” Jungkook nibbles on his lower lip. Something about Taehyung’s gaze makes his insides queasy and he doesn’t know whether it’s because the older man is upset or just exhausted. With a poker face like his, with eyes that sink deeper than an eternal labyrinth, it’s difficult to tell. He settles on the most comfortable answer. “Then we’ll live like a normal family. Maybe after she gives birth we can buy a house instead and live near the sea like we used to.”

It’s not a definite answer, but it will do for now. When you regain confidence that life will continue on as it always had, it should be smooth sailing from there. Namjoon or Jin have been a threat but once the baby comes they’ll know better than to approach you again.

Taehyung’s assistant comes back into the room with a soft smile. She glances down at the decapitated woman briefly before walking towards the incinerator in the far corner. Like clockwork she appears once there is a twenty minute time limit before the room reverts back to a comfortable temperature. Jungkook’s freezer preserved the body enough that they can pull apart Yori’s limbs and burn each piece separately; the burning will be handled by her but dismemberment is intimate, a family bonding type of activity that re-establishes their brotherhood.

“Are you happy you’ll have a family soon? Does it bring you joy?”

The younger man nods, lips trembling softly as he looks down at the severed head. His cold breath fans over Yori’s eyelids. “Yes, I am. Very. It’s all I ever wanted. ”

Taehyung stares. From the scar on the left cheek to the mole under his lips, he watches Jungkook as the younger man saws through the arms, letting the frozen limbs fall to the plastic-covered floor with a rustle and blunt thud. Once all four limbs are torn apart on the floor, he lines the saw down the navel just above the slight hill of Yori’s protruding belly. Just as he moves to switch on the saw, Taehyung grips his wrist with a tightness that alarms Jungkook.

They look at each other, truly look at each other in the darkness.

“Will you ever tell her the truth?”

Jungkook jaw tightens as he holds the older man’s gaze. His fingers are going numb, not from the cold but from the grip around his wrist.

The question causes him to chuckle incredulously. One small step and everything can fall apart like a house of cards. The risk he is taking burning someone closely associated with you can pull them both back into the times when they lived like rodents; hidden from light, at risk of being poisoned every step of the way out from the ground.

When Taehyung doesn’t mirror him, he falters. “…What use will it be if we tell her? She doesn’t have to know anything about me.”

“Is it because you’re afraid she’ll be hurt or afraid she might leave if you do?”

The reaction is immediate. Jungkook’s brows come together and he lays the saw on top of the torso, releasing a harsh exhale as he desperately pushes back tears. Taehyung expected the reaction; it’s what he was aiming for in the first place. The minute he walked in the room and saw Jungkook smiling happily in the distance he knew the boy has taken his delusions too far. He’s willing to oblige with the many ridiculous requests in helping him secure you as a wife, but he’s not a hopeless romantic. He doesn’t believe in soulmates and pure, perfect love that Jungkook pines for. There is only so much luck Jungkook can depend on before you stumble upon something you shouldn’t have. With a criminal bond, the stakes have never been higher.

The boy takes his bottom lip under his teeth. “She won’t leave me.”

“Answer the question.”

“She loves me, okay? That’s all I need.”

He peels his arm away from Taehyung and brings both hands behind his head, burying his face in between the elbows. He turns away towards the concrete wall, his temples pounding from how hard his teeth are clenched. Couldn’t Taehyung just be happy for him? Couldn’t he take time away to celebrate this victorious night?

The reality is that two people who love each other may still never truly know each other. Just like how he doesn’t know the true reason why you wanted him as you watch him from the balcony in silence all those months ago, you won’t know why he can’t tell you everything about his upbringing. There’s no doubt that you would see his lies as betrayal, perhaps even worse than what Yori did because he made you believe he worshipped the ground you walked on (and it’s the truth). If you learned that the doe-eyed boyfriend part of him is dramatized, your heart will take irreversible damage. He had shown what it meant to be in love, to have a place where you both can call home, to care for each other through sickness and crime. He can’t ruin that illusion. Not when he’s this close to taking you away from everyone you’ve ever known.

“The fire is ready.”

He brings his arms back down to his sides and turn towards the assistant who stands with her hands clasped in front of her as she looks between him and Taehyung.

When neither of them move, she kicks opens the incinerator and releases a waft of hot air towards the thawing body. Jungkook turns back to the body and kick the limbs towards the fire. He grabs Yori’s head by the hair and tosses it towards the limbs, wondering if you would still love him if you saw him now in a grimy lab coat, reeking of frozen flesh. You most likely won’t. You most likely will be disgusted with him, your eyes might resemble his mother’s, peering at him as if you couldn’t waste one more second breathing the same air as him.

“I’m scared,” he whispers at last, walking towards the torso on the table. He places his hand over the blood-stained stomach. The baby didn’t deserve this death, he thinks, but it would have ended up as miserable as he was when he was a child.

“I don’t know how not to be scared. That’s why I…I’m doing all of this for her. It’s why I still can’t tell her everything even if we’re tied together now. But…but I’m…we’re still men, right? We’re not monsters who do this for fun. We do this to protect the people we love.”

The older man puts his hand over Jungkook’s on the cold stomach and rubs his thumb over his knuckles. The younger man relaxes a bit more now that he understands Taehyung isn’t frustrated or upset that he put them all in danger, only concerned.

Taehyung’s life’s purpose has been to protect this boy and now it’s Jungkook’s turn to protect the woman he’d fallen for. It’s all the more cruel that the woman Jungkook believes to be his soulmate came from wealth, from prestige, from a family that may be dysfunctional but more often than not normal. It pains him that he’s willing to live the rest of his life under a façade just to keep the illusion of a perfect romance alive. If only Taehyung could have convinced him that the beautiful couples in movies aren’t real, that the men in those movies are not like them and the women in those movies are not perfect little angels he think you are.

But that’s a battle Jungkook has chosen to fight and he could do nothing but support. That’s what families do.

“We’re not monsters,” Taehyung finally speaks at last as he walks towards the limbs and crouches down to the open incinerator. He brushes his long fingers along the metal edge, letting the tips of his fingers burn pink. His deep brown eyes reflect the orange hue of the fire yet his pupils welcomed no light. “But we’re damn close.”

…

Your skin prickles with goosebumps as you gulp down the remaining ice cold water from the fridge, laying your forehead on the door handle. It’s unbearably hot and cold at once and you’re growing impatient as the minutes tick by and you’re still alone.

It doesn’t take long to bury a body, does it? Jungkook never specified what he was going to do. Maybe the reason why it’s taking too long is because he’s driving far into the woods but your heart pangs in worry at the thought of a witness catching sight of him hunched over with a shovel. He seemed confident when he left (in your sleepy haze you don’t remember clearly) that the thought went away as quickly as it came. Your boyfriend can be meticulous; there’s a high chance that he’s taking extra precautions. He probably isn’t calling because he assumes you’re still asleep. He’d tucked you in and kissed you on the forehead, only murmuring something about being back soon and bringing back breakfast.

You set the glass down in the sink and walk past the kitchen counter, halting in your steps when you find your purse laying haphazardly next to the fruit basket. It’s been there since the police came and the contents of your wallet and keys threaten to tip over into the basket. You pull the undone zipper apart, rummaging around the inside to straighten the sides until your nails click against the uncapped flash drive. It makes your insides quiver when you realize you had been opening the files when your mother called during that day and the world crumbled. Oh how blissful you would be standing here if you never picked up the call, if you let her deal with her own problems, if the guilt of her being alone and scared didn’t affect your tender heart. The worry that Seokjin had written a love letter seemed rather insignificant now that your boyfriend can be taken away in cuffs if evidence surfaces. The tabloids would have another field day for sure.

You turn towards the digital clock on the stove, noting the time once more, and grasp the flash drive in your hands before making your way towards the living room. The flash drive blinks green as you slide the silver end into your computer propped on the coffee table. The laptop will keep you sane because you know damn well if you see Namjoon’s face on the television once more you’d spiral into panic. It’s not wise to speak of his name under your roof.

It’s not wise to speak of Seokjin’s name either, but if Jungkook isn’t coming anytime soon, the least you can do is read what your old friend has to say and be rid of this little tool in case your boyfriend’s curiosity leads to a temper tantrum.

Once again, the document window reveals a ZIP folder along with an array of photo files. You extract the file first, letting it load before double clicking to pull up the document window. It’s not what you’re expecting. There’s no sweet words and no mention of Seokjin’s name on the page. The document is over two hundred pages long and still loading as you scroll down the pages. There is a case number in the middle of the first page and then several police reports from several years ago, all dated within the same year.

Busan.

Two victims.

Two suspects.

Juvenile.

With your brows furrowed, you scroll further down the file, slowly falling back down to earth from the blanket of mental exhaustion. You feel a cold breeze down the curve of your spine, your fingertips slowly coaxing the cursor downwards. Several sentences are censored or cut in the corners. The further you scroll the more you find yourself asking if Seokjin had given you the wrong flash drive or if he was pulling a vicious prank on you. It all seemed like a whirlwind of information you don’t know how to translate until you pause on a page halfway through the document.

Kim Taehyung.

The name is most definitely familiar. The second name listed in the following page, however, you recognize in entirety.

Jeon Jungkook.

The universe must be playing a sick joke, you think, as your cursor swims around your boyfriend’s name. He would have told you about an incident big enough for a case report that spans over a hundred pages, wouldn’t he? Jungkook wouldn’t hide anything important from you, not after he had urged you to be transparent with him. Not after he had punished you for something as silly as keeping jewelry gifted by or ex or forgetting to wear a brassiere in public. Something in your gut tells you to keep scrolling despite your vision beginning to blur and the air around you becoming heavier as if you’re breathing over a pot of boiling water.

You scroll further down, lips parting as your eyes scan over the document with record speed. The Jeon family massacre, the shack in Busan, the weapons used on the bodies for both murder and disposal – everything is written in clear detail. But it’s impossible, you think, as Jungkook has never once hinted that his parents were deceased. In fact, there were several times when he welcomed the idea of you meeting his family. He wouldn’t have agreed with enthusiasm if he had to reveal the details of this case, would he?

He wouldn’t have his mother’s number saved. It doesn’t make sense and the more you wonder who that woman could be in his cell phone, the more your insides twist.

When you hit the last hundred pages the censorship worsened. Most of the pages are illegible with black boxes shadowing over sentences but you don’t need the missing sentences. The last five pages summarized the timeline of the incident and highlighted possible motives from abuse to undiagnosed mental disorders for both Jungkook and Taehyung. You’re not sure if the file is even reliable considering what you’re reading and the boyfriend you’re living with seem like two different people.

There is hardly any record about the two of them except the elementary, middle, and high school they’ve attended. The paragraphs blur together as you scroll with trembling fingers. Something about Jungkook’s instability, his codependency on Kim Taehyung, the manner in which he was released shortly after Taehyung’s escape from the facility despite facing juvenile charges for second degree murder.

Then, the details of the crime.

Jungkook couldn’t do something like that, could he? Your lungs ache as you pant, a sudden sob leading you to clasp a shaky hand over your mouth. There is no reason for you to claim this case as unreliable when Jungkook is disposing Yori’s body somewhere within the twenty mile radius. There is no reason this case is talking about another Jeon when the first thought your boyfriend had when you confessed your mother’s accident was to help with the cleaning.

This couldn’t be anyone else but Jeon Jungkook, the boyfriend who kisses you until you melt like butter in his arms and pouts whenever someone looks at you the wrong way. Despite the file in front of you, you shake your head.

“It’s not him…it can’t be him.”

Closing the file window, you take a deep breath before opening the image file next to the folder. The first few photos were of the crime scene and your blood turns cold at the disfigured corpses in the room. The room is dirty with peeling wallpaper, blood splatter, broken furniture, and schoolbooks and papers. The couple in the picture is your boyfriend’s parents, there’s no doubt about it. You can see the resemblance in what remains of his father’s face and you wonder if that’s the reason why he never felt comfortable in his skin, as he once told you during pillowtalk.

With your core tightened, bracing for the worst, you open the last image. There is Jungkook, in the flesh, pictured with a uniform and handcuffs, eyes blacker than your morning coffee. His face is littered with bruises and the corner of his lips are swollen, caked with dried blood. The purple and green bruises stretch over his eye socket, reaching far back to his temples where his hair falls. Somehow the fact that his mother had abused him didn’t register in your mind until now. It feels somewhat far away, like a distant memory that has no effect on the person he is now. But Jungkook didn’t become the sensitive and hardworking man you know now because of sheer willpower; he was forced into the role.

He did what he had to do to survive and you know deep in your heart you can’t hate him for it. You can’t justify murder, but you can’t ignore that he was desperate to leave.

You place a trembling hand over your heart and lean back into the couch.

Either way you look at it, one thing remains true. Jeon Jungkook had spun lies upon lies to be in your life. He had successfully kept you in the dark, hardly ever showing how truly dangerous he can be until the time is right. His anger has been, at times, loving and sweet. Other times, it spurred fear. He had promised you time and time again he would never hurt you. Yet, that promise holds no substance when he doesn’t practice his own standards for loyalty and truthfulness that he instilled in you.

There’s the Jungkook from Busan who showed no remorse for what he did and there’s the Jungkook who held your heels in his hands as he led you to safety from that fateful wedding night. Burying your head in your hands, you fist the roots of your hair until your scalp burned.

You’ve been sleeping with a stranger.

…

The precinct is a large, block building next to the subway station that would be invisible if it were not for the newly painted gray-blue gates set around the perimeter of the building. There is a group of photographers huddled against the gates despite the very late hours of the night, sporting the same black padded coats as they tumble over each other like penguins. When Namjoon steps out of the building and into the Mercedes parked in front of the building, the camera shutters click. Reporters shouts his name for a statement. He merely glances at the crowd before stepping into the vehicle, adjusting his coat before slamming the door shut.

The crowd of reporters part as the vehicle makes its way down the concrete path to the streets. There are no officers in sight to control the crowd, prompting him to watch in silence as they knock on the tinted glass and the side of the car. His chauffeur would seem unbothered if not for the whiteness of his knuckles as he grips the steering wheel, stepping on the gas with urgency while being careful to not anger the hungry journalists desperate for next morning’s cover story.

He can understand Lee’s anxiety as they drive towards one of his apartments in the city with higher security. He has been in a state of paralysis ever since he landed and was immediately brought into questioning. The handcuffs at the airport wasn’t necessary, he thinks, and he’s convinced some of these cops must be journalists in disguise, blaming him for a crime he had no knowledge of. Aside from such inconveniencies, there are other problems to address such as the dent in his parents’ pocket to keep the media from prying too much into the investigation. He’d faced his father’s wrath earlier before his first shot of whiskey, and then his mother’s who cried on his shoulder as she was too relieved to see him walking freely. He doesn’t understand why people are surprised that he isn’t the culprit when there is so little evidence against him. The precinct wanted to make an example out of him, about how the rich aren’t safe from persecution; however, they fail to consider that the rich aren’t always guilty with whatever they are accused of either. It’s been an exhausting last few weeks to face the same mob of cameras before, during, and after the questioning. They must know by now that Yori’s disappearance was as surprising to him as it is for everyone else.

There is no end to the investigation – especially when they are set on finding evidence that it was premeditated - and his exhaustion reached its peak this morning when he realizes today was the day the baby is due. Yori wasn’t fond of motherhood – unbeknownst to outsiders who only saw her poised nature – and neither was he. But he had made an oath that he would be there for the child at least financially if not emotionally and would provide the necessities while he legalize their marriage and transfer abroad for work. He swore to not touch a single drop of alcohol when the first cry of his child reaches his ears yet here he is, pouring himself a drink from the mini fridge assembled between the seats.

“Where do you think she is?” He asks, then takes a shot of straight vodka. This was one of many times he despised how poised he can be when the situation is dire. His lawyers had advised him to be emotional, but he can’t bring himself to put on an award-winning act when he’s one sleepless night away from a coma.

The older man glances at the rearview mirror, lips setting in a thin line as he eyes the bottle in Namjoon’s hand.

“I’m unsure, sir. The police and your father has been searching in all of the places she could possibly be. I’m sure they will find her soon.”

“Dead or alive?”

The car jolts to a stop at the red light. “Sir?”

“It’s been a week. She hasn’t called, there’s no activity from her bank account, no money taken from the house, and no report of her fleeing the country. She left her belongings behind, including her cellphone and a coat during this weather. The investigation is only ongoing because there’s data from security that she let someone in at night and the back gates were open. The surveillance in the main roads nearby didn’t pick up any suspicious cars either. Now tell me…do you think she’s dead or alive?”

Lee presses on the gas pedal and sighs, staring straight ahead at the roads but unable to focus on any of the signs.

“I don’t think I can answer that question, sir. Please forgive me.”

Namjoon takes another shot and turns his head towards the cars passing by him. There was no money taken, which concludes that the culprit’s motive had nothing to do with financial gain. It must be the reason why he’s under suspicion.

“Perhaps…” Lee speaks again, his careful eyes meeting Namjoon’s apathetic ones through the rearview mirror. “Perhaps _____ might be able to help with finding Miss Kim. She was very close to her. Maybe she knows a few locations we’ve missed.”

He considers the offer for a moment, knowing that the detectives had reached out to you for more information at the same time of his questioning. It’s true you were Yori’s closest friend for most of your life. Until last year, you talked to her on the phone several times a week and shared a meal with her at least once a week in your former apartment. You invited her to all social events and dressed, shopped, and spent quality time together. It would be a wise choice to call you in such a catastrophic time. He does, however, understand that you would be reluctant to involve yourself in the investigation for you had started a new life with this new boyfriend of yours and had distanced yourself from even Seokjin himself. Not even your mother knew about what you were up to on most days.

Nonetheless, the situation is too severe to preserve his own pride as well as yours. Yori is with child and there’s still a morsel of a chance that she – and the baby – is safe. You may have changed in the last several months, but if there was one thing he’s still sure about you, it’s your willingness to set aside differences to help others.

He hopes you would take the call once he musters the courage to dial your number. Maybe he’ll call Seokjin instead if he has a change of heart.

“I’ll consider it.” Namjoon nods as Lee nods back, slightly relieved.

For the second time in his life, Namjoon is terrified of losing someone close. He had watched you, white chiffon and silk in your hand, as you ran out of the lobby and his life forever. He hoped that he can do right and bring Yori and his child back to safety and make sure – this time – to cherish what he has rather than what he’d lost.

Knocking the last shot of vodka, he leans his head back against the plush leather upholstery and closes his eyes, hoping more than anything to be taken out of his misery.

…

They say a woman’s intuition doesn’t lie.

You’re thankful that it’s too late in the night and too early in the morning for your neighbors to hear the ding of the elevator as you make your way down the building. You didn’t bother dressing, merely grabbing your purse with the flashdrive tucked safely in one of its compartments on the way out. You’re still wearing Jungkook’s shirt as a dress and you slid into the first pair of sandals you can find through the burning tears. You’re not sure how you’re supposed to feel in the haze of betrayal but there’s a sense of humiliation that comes with finding out you were lied to – perhaps laughed at behind your back – for months. It’s the same feeling as that wedding night, but a million times worse now that you’ve reached the end of no return.

Even if you call Seokjin and urge him to help, there’s nothing you can do to change that you’re an accomplice. There’s nothing you can do to change that a sick part of you enjoyed scrubbing blood off the floors, fucking your dirtied boyfriend afterwards, and pretending life will continue as normal.

Furthermore, there’s nothing you can do to change that you’re still utterly in love with Jungkook.

It can’t all be a lie, can it? The reason why he chased after you, jumped over fences to bury his nose in your intimates, and carve your skin isn’t because he’s using you, right? There’s only so much pretending a person can do. Deep in your heart, you feel that Jungkook does really love you. You wouldn’t feel this safe with him, even after knowing he had done something irreversible in his childhood, if his tenderness towards you isn’t genuine.

Yet, you’re also acutely aware of how much money your family has. You know how many valuable assets you have under your name after your father’s passing. You know how easily you can change your life at any given moment if you choose to meet your mother’s expectations in marrying into a conglomerate family and living without worrying about money. The reason why Jungkook helped you during that wedding night can be because he had the opportunity to be with someone who can offer him financial security he didn’t have growing up. Maybe he was attracted to how easygoing your life is, only having to worry about which restaurant you want to pick for date night, unlike his formative years surviving on scraps.

You’re also pathetic, desperate, unloved. It was too easy for Jungkook to charm his way into your life in a moment of vulnerability. He must’ve known you came from money just by the size of the venue and how much you offered to pay him for his photography services. He must’ve known how naïve you were when you were willing to sleep in his arms that night, how willingly you swallowed the painkiller he gave you.

Even then, it doesn’t make sense. He owned a studio. He bought you gifts and took offense when you denied his offer to help pay for things only married couples do. He gifted you flowers every week and take you out to beautiful places when you were sad, never thinking twice about putting down his last dime if that’s what it took to see you smile. He’s patient and empathetic. He’s kind because he understands the pain of being hurt by the ones you love but he can also be kind because staying with you is convenient.

And you don’t want to be the convenient woman. Not anymore.

…

Jungkook’s phone vibrates in the back of his pocket, prompting him to remove his gloves and throw them in the fire with the rest of the corpse. The assistant is asleep on the couch, unaccustomed to night cleaning when Taehyung keeps her in charge during the day. Taehyung, on the other hand, slides his sanitized tools back in the slouchy leather bag, turning his head towards the fire when the alcohol from Jungkook’s gloves reawaken the fire for a moment.

Jungkook reaches behind him and fishes the phone from his pocket to see the notification from a security sensor. His stomach drops when the notification loads, the buffering swirl of the loading screen feeling eerily similar to the swirling aches in his stomach. He’s relieved that there are no police cars in front of the garage, but the relief is short lived as his eyes land on your car instead, the door to the driver’s seat left open.

He quickly switches to the cameras from the inside, pointed directly at the front door to see a figure walking through. He watches as you stumble inside, falling on your hands and knees as you tumble into the boxes of books and accessories he kept near the front steps. He haven’t had the chance to throw them back in the garage when Jimin and his team took away the freezer and left behind a mess.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung comes next to him, peering down at the phone. He watches in silence as Jungkook’s hand trembles.

He watches you grab onto the nearest table and pull yourself up from the ground before switching on the lights. And it was the sight of your swollen eyes, your bloodied knees, and your heaving breaths that had him running out of the room, grabbing the car keys and jacket from the hooks next to the door. The thought that someone might have hurt you set his head into flames. Taehyung’s assistant wakes with a slight gasp the moment Jungkook slams the door open into the bright reception desk area of a run-down funeral home. The walls vibrate.

“I’ll come with you,” is all Taehyung says as they fly out front door. His assistant would know what to do without him.

Taehyung takes the keys from his grasp and starts the car, stepping on the gas without hesitation as Jungkook buries his face in his hands and fold over in the passenger seat. He reaches over and runs his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, cursing underneath his breath. The younger man takes a moment to collect himself before his shaky fingers unlocks his phone once more, the loading screen causing him to bounce his knees as he waits. Even Taehyung’s comforting hand does nothing to soothe the panic rising up his esophagus.

“S-She’s going in the dark room,” he huffs as he keeps his eyes locked on his screen. “I don’t…d-don’t know why she-”

“We’ll figure it out when we get there.”

There are no cameras in the dark room, not even ones he can hide inside everyday objects.

In half the time it usually takes to get to the studio, Taehyung steers the vehicle into the familiar neighborhood, head swinging left and right to check if anyone else is nearby. Before he parks outside the garage, Jungkook undoes his seatbelt and steps out of the moving vehicle, running towards the front doorsteps. His shoulder crashes into the front door as he twirls his head around the studio, checking to see if he missed anything. He sees your handbag on the floor, the sliding doors to the darkroom remaining closed.

You’re inside there, hurt, bleeding, needing him. He should’ve stayed behind with you and let Taehyung take care of Yori; it wasn’t necessary for him to be there, but he didn’t want to be seen as ungrateful after asking for numerous favors.

Taehyung steps inside the studio and closes the front door behind him as Jungkook slides the darkroom doors open and step inside, sliding the wood back into place behind him. He steadies his breathing and takes a few seconds to adjust his eyes to the dark red bulbs above him. When he hears a crunch he looks down to see numerous photos of you underneath his soles, entire binders and broken photo frames laying across the concrete floors.

Jungkook steadies himself with one hand on the wall, lining the perimeter of the room until he can spot your hunched figure in front of the metal cabinets. Your shoulders are shaking, hand patting around the inside of the of the cabinet, knocking over medication, empty film canisters, and stationery.

“Noona?”

You gasp, your hand flying to cover your mouth in the semi-darkness. The bottle of pills in your hand clatters to the floor, rolling towards Jungkook’s boots. Your back slams into the cabinet behind, eyes wide with fright as your tears roll down your face. He keeps his eyes on you as he kneels and takes the bottle in his hands, briefly looking down at the transparent bottle before looking back up at you.

“What’s going on? Why are you crying?” He asks, panting as he strides towards you with outstretched arms.

In the midst of your anger you fail to realize someone like Jungkook would have taken extra steps to track where you are. You didn’t even check if the car or phone is bugged. Even during this time you’re still stupid, you think. No wonder it’s easy for men to lie to your face with that kind of carelessness.

You shake your head, backing away from him. “Don’t.”

His eyes brim with tears as you clutch your chest, your body trembling. Jungkook shakes his head, holding his bare hands in front of him to show he won’t touch you. You look at those hands – the hands that have caressed your cheeks in the morning, massaged your shoulders after long work hours, buried your old best friend – like they were weapons.

“I-I don’t understand,” he breathes, his hands trembling as his eyes rake over the scattered pictures on the floor, the open cabinet doors, and at your tattered appearance. You’re still dressed in his button down shirt, the material falling mid-thigh and he catches a glimpse of dried blood on your knees from your fall.

“I thought it was strange. How calm you were about all this. I t-thought…” you put your hands together over your heart, your chest shaking with sobs. He can hardly make out your words from the tears and the sound felt so painful to his ears he wanted to smother you, put his hands over your mouth, and keep you locked in his arms tight.

Your teeth clatters, not because you’re cold, Jungkook knows, but because you’re scared. Of him.

“Noona,” he whimpers again as he waits for your sobs to subside. He struggles to understand.

With the heel of your palm you wipe away the tears but the more you rub the worse it gets until you feel as if your face would drown under your own ministrations. The gut-wrenching pain you felt reading his report lingers in the depths of your stomach, churned into fear that there is a possibility you could end up just like them. How could you even know if his tears are real? How could you even know if the last few months of your relationship was even real?

“You never loved me, Jungkook. You…this is just some sick fantasy of yours, r-right?” Your voice breaks. You don’t understand what’s coming out of your mouth when the only thing you wanted to do was hurt him. Make him feel the way you do now. “Making me fall for you. Believe I can earn your dead parents’ approval. Making me your fucking doll. You got off on me being a naïve little bitch, didn’t you? You sick fuck.”

You know.

Oh god, you know.

Jungkook feels as if someone had wrapped a rope around his neck and pulled. Is it punishment for wanting happiness? Is it because he was bound to this endless life of suffering where the people he loved end up hurting him in the end? End up leaving?

Jungkook shakes his head, mouth falling open as he watches you back away from him into the corner. His sobs are loud and pained as if you had hit him across the cheeks. With every step he takes towards you, you take one step back, as if to say you don’t want him near, you don’t want him to touch you, as if you don’t even want him to look at you with those seemingly innocent eyes.

“You lied to me,” your voice reduces down to a whimper. “You promised me you’d never do that. Did you intend to keep this from me forever?”

“N-Noona…”

He falls to his knees, putting his hands together in prayer as he sobs. Through your anguish and his, Jungkook still holds your heart captive.

Like a dam bursting, his apologies engulfs you.

“Noona, I’m sorry! I-I-I didn’t know how to t-tell you,” he gasps for air, putting his hands down in front of him in surrender. He puts his forehead against the cold concrete, clasping his hands together in prayer, writhing, withering. “I swear, it wasn’t me! I didn’t w-want you to think I was a mu- murd-derer,” he hiccups, coughing as his hunched figure trembles.

Backing away until your shoulder blades lean against the adjacent walls, your body slides down, the phone from your grip clattering onto the floor. The screen brightens with the image of you and him as Jungkook’s trembling figure creeps closer, crawling towards your feet in the darkness. You can’t feel your teeth gnawing on your thumb until you taste blood in your mouth. You watch your boyfriend’s cold hands wrap around your ankles as he puts his forehead onto your calves and begs.

“I love you, noona. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I love you so much. Please don’t hate me noona, please, I don’t know what I’ll do if you hate me. I’m sorry I l-lied to you, I swear I was going to tell you everything soon, noona. W-Whatever you saw is all wrong. I never killed them, I l-loved them with all my heart,” he surrounds your folded legs in his embrace, leaning his wet cheeks against your scraped knees as he sobs. “They hurt me. They m-made me like this, I didn’t want to be like this noona, I ju-just wanted someone to love me. I didn’t mean to b-be bad-“ His clammy hands presses your calves together, keeping your knees still.

Jungkook’s head raises, slowly, his soft dark locks falling from his face. His doe eyes aren’t focused on you but on some invisible spot on the ground. He whimpers your name before doubling over and hurling vomit onto the ends of your shirt, his head slamming into the cabinet next to you. The stench of bile wafts towards your face but you’re given no chance to move when Jungkook gags and empties his stomach once more, acidic saliva slipping down the corner of his mouth as he sobs.

With no warning whatsoever, he brings his head back and slams the side of his head against the metal cabinet doors. You’re frozen stiff, your body trembling as you watch the love of your life knock his head into the doors again and again, drool dripping down his mouth.

When he wails, you reach for him. “K-Kook-”

He brings his head back, eyes glazed, as he rams his head into the metal sheet again. And again.

“I-I’m sorry noona,” he cries, etching the words into his skull. “Noona I’m sorry…I-I didn’t meant to hurt you nng, noona…I won’t…”

With shaky limbs you crawl closer to your boyfriend, pulling him by the collar to stop but the panic causes your shaky hands to slip, merely finding success in pushing him towards the ground. He coughs, gasping for air. When his wails become louder, you hover above his writhing figure, hands on his arms to keep him still in desperation. It’s no use when he continues to apologize, not hearing your pleas to stop, to listen to your voice and breathe. Seeing him like this makes you want to take back your words.

The door to the darkroom slams open, revealing a tall man whose face you can’t see until he steps further into the red hue. You weren’t aware Jungkook didn’t come alone.

He must be Kim Taehyung; there’s no mistake from the stained lab coat he adorns to the tar black eyes that could bore holes through your skull. He looks awfully similar to Jungkook and if you hadn’t read the case and hadn’t known that Jungkook was an only child, you would think they’re brothers.

“Move.” He commands, the edge in his voice causing you to flinch back as he crouches above your blubbering boyfriend’s head and scoop him from under the armpits.

He’s strong enough to uncurl Jungkook’s shaking body, hushing the cries as he places your boyfriend’s face under his chin and press him against his chest. Like a child, Jungkook’s hand reaches up to fist the lapels of Taehyung’s lab coat, sobbing so hard that you were afraid his lungs might burst.

“Hyung is here, Jungkookie. I’m here. She’s here too, okay? We won’t leave you. Hush now.”

Taehyung’s voice is deep but filled with warmth, completely different from all the times you’ve overheard him speak through a call in your living room.

“I-I’m so-sorry noona, I won’t do it again- n-noona-,” he coughs.

The older man reaches inside his coat and fishes out a syringe. He cover Jungkook’s eyes with his long fingers, whispers a word of reassurance, before pressing the needle deep into Jungkook’s arm.

In a few short seconds, the cries lower, Jungkook’s body falling limp against the older man’s chest as your name falls repeatedly from his swollen lips. Taehyung places the syringe in his pocket and wipes the vomit and saliva from Jungkook’s chin with his thumb, his eyes sad as he peers at the boy in his arms.

The sound of water dripping down the faucet seems as loud as fireworks in the silence of the room. With your arms wrapped around yourself, knees pressed against your chest, you watch Taehyung brush away Jungkook’s sweat-soaked hair and wipe away the snot and tears on his nose and cheeks with the sleeves of his coat. Once his face is dry, he props Jungkook against the cabinet and stands to face the faucet, gathering a handful of water in his hands and cleaning Jungkook’s forehead where a bruise is starting to form.

“How did you find out?”

The tethered anger in his voice causes you to curl into the corner, making yourself as small as possible. You don’t forget that Taehyung is the reason why they are both free men; the man is every bit terrifying as he is handsome.

“A-A friend of mine…he showed me.”

Taehyung hums, knowing exactly who had caused tonight’s troubles, wiping his hands on his coat. He takes several strides and crouch down in front of you, glancing at Jungkook’s face before turning back. He stares into your eyes without commenting and you’re not sure where to look. You settle on looking down at your scraped knees, the trembling causing your voice to shake.

“Are you disgusted?”

You meet his eyes, biting the insides of your cheeks. “D-Disgusted…no. Not disgusted. I’m just…scared…s-scared of what he did.”

He exhales, his long fingers coming up to massage his temples.

“I killed them.” He blinks. He nods shortly afterwards, as if he were reliving the moment. “Jungkook was simply there. They were going to kill him. It was me who did everything you saw in those photos.”

You swallow, eyes brimming with tears as your body warms in response. Your boyfriend is innocent. Maybe not completely, but enough that you can release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Okay.” You murmur, nodding. You’re not sure what the proper response is for that kind of confession.

“There are some people who don’t deserve to be parents. His mother, especially. You would be surprised how happy he became when we had no more family.”

You nod, keeping your eyes lowered. Your eyes fall to your cellphone near Taehyung’s shoes, your lips parting.

“T-Then…he wasn’t adopted afterwards?”

Taehyung cocks his head. “Adopted?”

“I-it’s just,” you stammer, wondering if it would anger him if you asked but something tells you Taehyung is a reasonable man albeit his brutality. “There’s a co-contact in his phone…a-and he labeled her as ‘mother’…”

The older man nods. “We call her our mother. She helped us when we had nowhere to go, gave us a place to sleep.”

As if the weight from your shoulders melted away once more, you slump against the wall. Of course, Jungkook wouldn’t cheat on you with another woman.

Taehyung continues. “We did what we had to do. We learned how to make fake documents, little things like IDs, and it kept us afloat for a while. Jungkook prefers that kind of work still, but I don’t. You’ll never see a photographer making this kind of money without dabbling into…indecent practices. It’s expensive to feel secure, I’m sure you can at least relate to that.”

He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Do you understand the kind of life we had now?”

You nibble on your bottom lip. There’s no doubt you love Jungkook but the wound remains agape, the initial ugly feeling of betrayal swimming in your belly. You have the right to feel this way, but Taehyung is rather unconcerned about your feelings. If you weren’t loved by Jungkook, he would have stuck the barrel of his gun down your throat and threaten to blow out your organs out the other end. He’ll be patient this time and let nature takes its course; there’s a possibility you’re pregnant. You won’t be able to leave now, and you won’t be able to leave once you carry the baby to full term.

“I do,” you answer, the trembling gone.

You glance over at Jungkook’s sleeping form. Despite how hurt you may be now, you need to be there for him. You can’t imagine how sick he would feel, how much panic he would feel, when he wakes.

“I’m glad you do. After all,” Taehyung stands. “You’re not completely innocent either.”

Your head snaps up to meet his gaze.

He knows about Yori.

“Did you…?”

He confirms your thoughts. “I did. There’s no need to worry unless you talk, and if you know what’s good for you, you won’t.”

You release a shaky breath. “Okay.”

You’ve reached a dead end. You can’t amend your mistakes like good people, sane people, do. You’re as good as married to Jeon Jungkook, Yori’s burial being the glue tying you to him in holy matrimony. You have no choice but to vow to protect and love him in sickness and health. In all honestly, you can’t imagine your life any other way.

Taehyung brushes invisible dust off his coat.

“There is one more thing,” he says and with new conviction you meet his gaze once more. “If by any chance you do something stupid, I will kill you. And Jungkook can’t stop me then. Remember that.”

…

Seokjin follows the scent of a cigarette. It’s hardly half past six in the morning and the wind makes him push his head down as he maneuvers through the trees to the abandoned park. The playground he played in as a child is torn down, the blue slides and yellow swings torn apart by ongoing construction. Between the trees and industrial machinery he struggles to find his former co-worker and friend who had messaged him quite suddenly about the investigation on Jungkook. It’s something big, he says, and Hoseok doesn’t say something like that unless he means it. And if it’s bigger than the case file, then it’s bound to be something incriminating. He wasn’t sure if Yoongi might be here too, but he doubt it since the man can hardly drag himself out of bed in the morning.

It’s a little odd that Hoseok asked to meet immediately and he wonders if it was because he responded as soon as he received the text. Maybe if he had answered later in the day he could sleep in before work, but with Yori’s disappearance his nights have been filled with thoughts about you. Some fresh air would serve him well.

“Hoseok?!” He turns his head left and right, huffing as he struggle to catch his footing on the uneven cobblestone paths.

When he hear footsteps near the playground he turns his head towards the noise, blinking as he struggles to make out the figure of a person on the ground. She must be homeless, he thinks, as he watches her wrap her tattered scarf around her neck while wailing in a strange, kitten-like voice. She mutters something to herself in another language.

He takes a step closer, calling out to the plump woman as she stretches a leg out in front of her and fans her hand over what looks like a bloody wound. The gash is deep enough for him to stop in his tracks.

“Ma’am are you alright?” He asks.

His phone rings in his coat pocket and he reaches inside, looking down at Namjoon’s number displayed across the screen before locking his phone. Seems like he’s quite in demand this morning. He tucks the device back into his coat and walks over to the woman.

“Ma’am?”

She looks up at him, her mud-caked face and hair crumbling as she whimpers and move her bloody leg away from his sight.

“Do you need help standing?” He asks, closing in on her rocking figure. It’s not safe for a woman – much less a homeless woman – to be alone and injured. The park hardly garners enough visitors for its awkward location. He might be her only help.

“N-no…n-no…no,” the woman holds her leg away, wailing as she rocks from side to side.

Seokjin hovers next to the woman, folding over to gauge the extent of her injuries when his eyes trails over the thin red paint covering from the bottom of her knee to the middle of her calves. She babbles and wails, flailing her arms over the leg until a silver glint flashes over his eyes and air is knocked out of his lungs. When he opens his eyes and groans, he’s facing the cloudless sky, his vision flashing purple and black. He curses and turns to his side only to come face to face with a pair of black shoes.

He doesn’t raise his chin. Rather, he’s not given the choice, not when he feels the barrel of a gun pressed upon his noggin. The sound of bullet entering its chamber sounds from behind and he realizes quickly that he’s been set up.

“Kim Taehyung,” he wheezes, sputtering as he catches his breath. The gun behind him trails up his spine until it’s pressing into the back of his skull. He doesn’t know who that woman his, but he knows for sure the man standing in front of him can’t be anyone else but Taehyung.

In his paralysis he can hardly think of how Taehyung was able to use Hoseok’s number to meet him at a place only he and Hoseok investigated. The last time he spoke to him, Hoseok had only warned that he couldn’t continue the investigation, that Kim Taehyung had formally requested him to quit meddling, and ended the call shortly after. Surely Taehyung couldn’t have done something to the man in Hong Kong? He couldn’t think of a reason why someone who isn’t even related to Jungkook by blood will go through such lengths to protect him.

“Didn’t I tell you not to meddle in my affairs?”

He nods, exhaling. “You d-did.”

The gun from behind slides from his skull to his temple.

“You should have listened the first time.”

#bunny:fic #only you 10 #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook yandere #jungkook angst #yandere fanfiction #yandere bts #bts fanfiction #bangtan fanfiction #bangtan angst #bangtan yandere #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bangtan fanfic #only you

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neocrush · 3 years

Text

— the girl groups enhypen’s gfs are in !

genre: fluff (angst on jungwon’s part) + established relationship (eventually lol)

pairings: idol!enhypen x fem!idol!reader

note: idk how to title this pls i thought of it while showering

tagging: @jeminiepabo @strwberrydinosaur

you just finished performing and your members were in need of water bottles

but fucking mnet didn’t provide any inside of your dressing room??

so yves told you to ask for some from the artist in the dressing room next to yours

you knocked on the door without looking at the sign that showed who was in there

you asked for some water bottles and heeseung went “i’ll go get it!” and ran off to go get get them

jungwon just chuckled and went “hyung’s a really huge fan of your group, he kept on singing star on the way here”

you nodded at the younger one, impressed at the fact that you were popular among idols

the tall boy came back with a whole box full of water bottles

“there’s 12 of you here right now so i figured why not get a whole box” he chuckled nervously

you giggled and smiled at the nervous boy

“thank you heeseung-ssi, i’ll take this to my members” you took the box in your hands but was taken aback on how heavy it was

“don’t worry i’ll carry it for you”

long after that you started hanging out and boom you became his gf

you couldn’t resist the charms of lee heeseung

once it was revealed that you were a couple, orbits and engenes went INSANE (in a good way ofc)

“wait so y/n DOESNT hate men????”

★ jay - aespa

OMG OMG LEMME TELL YOU ABOUT THIS BBY

you both met at school after you both debuted

everyone was gossiping around about how you were in the same class with the enhas

so like... monster rookies class

usually idols aren’t seated together but the teacher seated you and jay next to each other

causing a bunch of “oooohhhs” from your classmates

there were times were you and the enhas would leave school early due to practice or schedules

and on the way to the school gate, jay would always spark up a conversation with you

you assumed he was just very friendly

long story short he had a massive crush on you

so a few months into your friendship (which the both of you were very open about with your fans), he confesses

you were like “WAIT SO IT WASNT ONE SIDED THE WHOLE TIME”

y’all were just really blind lol pls read between the lines

anyways on to ur lovely bf !!

he’s so bold and brave around you but so shy around your members and seniors

we all know how he really respects nct (along with other sm artists) bc he covered the 7th sense with sunghoon on iland

so one day you were like “oh btw i showed taeyong sunbae you and hoon’s t7s cover”

he was like 😟 to 😧 to 😯

got all shy and was like “oh what did he say..”

you don’t know why he was acting as if he didn’t body that whole performance ????

anyway you told him that taeyong said that he and hoon did really well and that he liked how jay did his part

hid his face on the crook of your neck

“baby we should come say hi to them next time you go to sm”

“NO i will make a fool out of myself”

speaks english and japanese with giselle a lot when he isn’t occupied with you

sometimes you’d even have to ask nct’s shotaro to translate

your seniors (especially exo’s kai) adore him so so much pls protect the boy at all costs

★ jake - everglow

he was an active viewer of produce 48 and (like me) was really attached to the yuehua trainees

especially you

so when you got eliminated just before the last episode, he was devastated to say the least

he awaited your debut and when the time came he supported everglow !!!!

LOVED BON BON CHOCOLAT SO MUCH

does the killing part choreo in his room when no one’s watching lol

dies everytime you do the little “everglow” in songs

right so when he debuted in enha, he looked forward to meeting you as an idol and not a fan

when you shared a dressing room at kcontact, he couldn’t help but introduce himself to you

he mentioned he was a big fan and your heart warmed

cute boy is a fan of you? omg heart go brr brr

your members tease you and you just shake it off

that day when you got back to the dorms, you watched a bunch of enhypen videos bc you were interested in jake

you weren’t aware of how popular you were among people - let alone idols so you were surprised

you fell in love with his personality and started saying hi to him whenever you meet backstage at music shows

not long after, you develop feelings for him

you thought it was just a puppy crush but as you saw him even more, it got serious

you never actually confessed but aisha accidentally spilled the beans when he was passing by

“cmon y/n just tell him you like him because he clearly feels the same !!”

“you like me?”

“AISHA”

“that’s my queue to leave”

so she leaves you two to pour your hearts out to each other

you two become a couple and forevergenes (such a cute name omg) LOVE you two

you’re both the puppies of your group so that makes your relationship 103892x cuter

you met his parents and they adore you and even asked for your autograph

“jake used to talk about how great you are after every produce 48 episode”

“okayyyy i think that’s enough embarassing me mom”

his parents love you like their own daughter but does layla love you?

you were so nervous to meet her and was actually scared she might not like you - knowing how important layla is to jake

at first layla ignored you and jake was like “she’ll come around”

you were convinced she just doesn’t like you, until this one time you were cuddling with jake on the couch and layla comes in

you expected her to snuggle up with jake but she came to you :D

now layla is super fond of you and mrs sim would even send you pictures and videos of layla getting excited whenever you were on tv 🥺

★ sunghoon - itzy

you and the girls were at isac

the six of you were just waving at your fans and making heart signs with your hearts

on your left you saw yeji making hearts with ryujin so you wanted to do that with another member too

you felt a presence next to you and assumed it was someone from your group

spoiler alert: it wasn’t

sunghoon and sunoo were waving at engenes who just happened to be seated next to midzys

so you turned to who you thought was an itzy member, making half a heart with your hand

until you realized it wasn’t 💀

you bowed and apologized when you both looked at each other, you were scared you crossed a boundary

you bowed and apologized to the engenes who were there too

sunghoon and sunoo reassured you it was all good

after that, sunghoon couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you the entire event

when the day was coming to an end, he pulled some strings and ended up having some alone time with you ...in stray kids’ dressing room

don’t ask

ofc skz already left so it was just you two there

fast forward, you both hit it off and he became your bf <3

midzys and engenes love you both sm and love bragging about you two to other fandoms

you two were even named the king and queen of 4th gen kpop

oh also

you already know where this is going

“SUNGHOON HOW COULD YOU NOT KNOW NOT SHY’S PROPER TITLE IT’S YOUR GIRLFRIEND’S SONG” - jay

brags about how he can do the shoulder dance in wannabe

ofc it’s bc you personally taught him

sends you pics of jyp as reaction pics

so you send pics of bang pdnim to him

every once in a while he reminds you of that video of jay why pee trying to hit a high note

“lmao that’s your boss”

PLS you always get super embarrassed so ofc you bring up that vid of hitman bang

“rAp dAncE-“

★ sunoo - stayc

you were his seatmate at school predebut

you came from the same town, same school, same neighborhood, etc

the two of you were extremely close and both shared the same dream

when highup entertainment accepted you, the both of you were over the moon

he was so happy for you

but sad too bc that meant you had to move to seoul :(

you promised him to do your best and that you hoped to see him again but as an idol

and hopefully when he’s an idol too

well what you hoped for came true !!

although you couldn’t see him much as a trainee - which made you quite sad - you got to follow his journey on i-land

you even asked your fellow trainees to vote for him

anyways now that you both debuted, you became close again and became really open with your fans on how close you were

you recommended his songs to swiths and he did the same to engenes

he even memorized the choreo to so bad and asap and lemme tell you this

he BEGGED you to teach him those choreos

“sunoo you can watch the practice on youtube”

“but i want to learn it from you”

he never really realized his feelings until he saw you getting shipped with his other members

you were both on weekly idol and the hosts really seemed to like how you and jake looked next to each other and they just teased you both the whole episode

that made sunoo feel uneasy and he thought it was only bc he was an overprotective best friend

turns out he had feelings for you (wow shocker)

so one day he asks you to come to hybe

after slightly getting lost, you meet up with him in a practice room

he confesses bc he felt like not telling you about his feelings would put a wall between you two

you appreciate his honesty and tell him you’ve felt the same way every since you were classmates

he scolds himself for not seeing it all those years but you just laugh it off bc you were pretty good at hiding your crush

you both agree to secretly date, until you both announce it on your five month anniversary

fans were really shocked at first... but they support you !!!!

engenes will not hesitate to come at anyone who talks bad about you and swiths feels the same way about jungwon

he gushes about you every single time you’re brought up

and you can’t help but love your adorable boyfriend

★ jungwon - iz*one

okay so

he was just an average high schooler when you were introduced on produce 48

his deskmate was watching your audition video and it was the part where you were doing this freestyle

he was SO amazed and he secretly followed your journey on produce 48

always made sure to vote on time and watch the episodes live

once the debut evaluation came around, he asked everyone he knew to vote for you and even bought tickets to see the show live

almost cried when he saw that you were center

ACTUALLY CRIED when you got into the top 13 😭

fast forward to him debuting in enha

he wasn’t able to catch up on you since he was busy with trainee life, then i-land, then debut preparations

but somehow in the middle of promotions he ran into you and BOOM love at first sight

fast forward to you finally dating, he couldn’t believe he was dating the y/n of iz*one

wizones make those “ladies and gentlemen, y/n’s man” edits and engenes make those “ladies and gentlemen, jungwon’s woman” edits

both fandoms love you two so dearly that the only hate you two got were from the delusional ones (who clearly aren’t actual fans)

when your last concert came around, he couldn’t bare seeing you cry when you said “this has been iz*one’s y/n, thank you everyone!”

he got flashbacks from when you cried during the final episode of produce 48 and he’s just.. sobbing bc he couldn’t be there to hold you

so the next day he rushed to your dorms with snacks and emotional support bc you were emotionally exhausted from accepting the fact that your journey with iz*one is finally ending

you felt extremely lucky to be in his arms and he felt extremely lucky too that he’s able to make you feel a little better

★ riki - weeekly

you were both on weekly weeekly idol together

and both you and riki being main dancers, you were asked to do random dance together

a few popular songs played and the both of you did the choreos

until after school started playing and the boy did the chorus’ choreo and you were like “woah???”

bc he was so INTO ITTTT

the song was basically made for him to cover it

and the mcs saw your reaction so they asked him to do it once again but this time with the whole group

after filming, he came up to you and was like “i’m a huge fan of yours” and you’re just like ):&/£]>\**_£]

“woah really???? i rooted for you on i-land”

and his face just lights up bc his huge crush on you developed even more

you became besties since then but he didn’t ask you out until your birthday

he took you out to a puppy café, knowing you were obsessed with dogs

you’d ask him to show you pictures and videos of bisco

“i better meet bisco once we go to japan together”

melted at the thought of traveling to his hometown with you

anyways

once you left the café, he kissed you in front of your dorms

and somehow he became your boyfriend <3

riki as a bf isn’t really a very public person

he’s the “this is our relationship, not the public’s” type of person

he doesn’t wanna risk companies wanting to exploit your relationship

although he doesn’t talk about you two much, he loves to brag about you when given the chance

whenever variety show hosts would fawn over you he’d just look them in the eyes dead and go “she’s mine”

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inlovewithbuddyaurinko · 2 years

Text

Fair warning, ramble ahead, discussion of fatphobia, diets, issues with exercise and spoilers for The Infernal Grind

Ok. I listened to this latest episode. (Part 2) And it’s just making me think about the way that a non-visual medium can both help and hinder audience’s representation.

I have been fat for more of my life than I wasn’t. There’s a number of factors contributing to this, but those do not matter for this discussion.

What I do remember is the day I went to the doctors in 2nd grade and was told I need to go on a diet. I can remember the whole moment vividly if I’m being honest, it scares me. And every single other doctor I have been to has told me losing weight would help.

These past two years I have not been on a diet and they’re also the past two years I have been listening to the penumbra podcast. No matter how much it was insisted that in canon, Juno Steel was thin and emaciated, so much of the fandom has turned a blind eye and given our favorite lady some meat on his bones.

Juno steel is a fat lady and I stand by that.

For me, a fat, queer and non-binary person to see myself in a character dealing the with depression, dealing with the affects of abuse, all while having someone fall for him was amazing. Juno got to save the day and yet, even if he didn’t see it, he was still sexy. He was still hot.

And THEN to have Buddy Aurinko????? Someone who everyone had to pick their jaw up off the floor for, and she was described as having curves which I and several others took to also mean she was fat while also being stylish and powerful and she commanded a room. She is proud of taking up space.

As silly as it is, I started telling myself that if buddy or Juno could do it, so could I. I’ve started to wear tighter clothes, taller shoes, I even own a real life certified crop top. For so long, I have envied those around me who were smaller and could wear clothes I had for so long had off limits. And I am aware a big part of that is most of the time I do not have anyone controlling my wardrobe choices now I am a bit more of an adult, but it still means so much.

So then it comes to this episode. Forced exercise is literally how the first half starts off and I got exactly two minutes in before I couldn’t take it anymore and had to turn it off and try and calm my rising anxiety in my throat over what would end up being a two and a half hour car ride. I couldn’t even read the transcript it rattled me so badly.

Then tonight, well I had heard enough great things about the second half of the episode and after making a friend give me a play by play of the first half, I felt prepared to listen to the second half because dammit. I was going to hear Vespa’s voice no matter what.

Some might say, my choice was a mistake. It is now two hours after I finished listening and I’m still teetering on the edge of panic over the episode. It was good. I promise. But the part about being forced to run. Being made to keep going no matter what even if you were ready to drop, that hurt me.

And I admit I read the warnings, I heard from others who had listened last episode I know what I was getting myself into. But they included that aspect of torture and had a lady with asthma and who had been on the run in a car for a few months now and could not have been in great shape running and yeah he wasn’t doing too well, but it didn’t seem like he was any more effected than his muscles were sore. And then I figure buddy was also being made to run, and her heart could give out on her at any moment and that’s strenuous activity not to mention Vespa “I gave myself heart attacks” ilkay.

As a fat, chronically ill person who has tried every form of exercise and hated it, I used to break down sobbing begging not to go to whatever activity I had been made to participate in, having characters who are canonically unwell and to have that bit of their health ignored felt Not Great. I’m completely aware that creators do not need to take fanon into account at all, nor am I saying they should, but it was a painful reminder that if it’s the future, why would there fat or actually physically impaired people there. I’m probably reading too much into this. But for as much as I enjoyed the episode, that singular scene really gutted me.

Wonderful episode, I loved it seriously. And I know I’m taking this too literally and I’m reading more into it than was intended but I’ve been having a time lately and this didn’t help.

#personal think piece #penumbra podcast spoilers #latest episode spoilers #the penumbra spoilers #penumbra spoilers #the penumbra podcast #tpp #juno steel #buddy aurinko #vespa ilkay #fatphobia #dieting #diet #long post #ramble #the infernal grind #the infernal grind spoilers

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the-only-ace · 3 years

Note

Hey I know you are really busy with all the request and job and all that but can you do shinee's reaction to s/o stealing their t-shirts and hoodies?? You can make them one shots of you want too😁

shinee reacts: their s/o wearing their clothes

heyyy~ i really liked this request because i personally love to do this. for this request, i want to try something new since you gave me an idea with the one-shots part. so instead of describing their reactions, i'll convey it in a form of a short story. it will still be per member! i hope you will like this one (heads up though, the posts is a bit longer than my usual shinee reacts) <3

p.s. if you guys can, kindly let me know if you like this kind of format for shinee reacts. thank you!

send in your requests here!

onew / jinki: you sighed for the nth time within just 10 short minutes. you were staring and pouting in front of your closet for you can't find the perfect clothes for your brunch date with onew. it was a hot day today and you just wanted to wear something cute but comfortable. however, it seems like your wardrobe doesn't offer that kind of outfit.

your eyes slowly traveled toward onew's part of the closet. his side was full of quirky graphic tees which you always find adorable. you don't usually borrow his clothes but you can't help but to take a peek at them and take the one that caught your eyes.

it was a white oversized shirt with a cute box cartoon drawn in front of it. you tried it on and it stopped perfectly on your thighs, making it look like a cute dress. surprisingly, it even matches the pair of sneakers you were wearing.

before you can even decide whether you were keeping it on or not, onew walked into your room. his hair a bit damp and he was only wearing a towel considering that he just took a shower.

"oh, is that my shirt?" he pointed at you.

"uh... yeah. do you mind? i just wanted to wear something that is yours." you sheepishly replied.

"no problem!" he beamed his big bright smile before proceeding to get his own outfit.

you muttered a thank you then went to your vanity to finish touching up your makeup. afterward, you grabbed your phone and wallet and placed them inside your shoulder bag.

"alright, I'm ready to go..." you trailed off as you saw what he looked like. "what the hell are you wearing, lee jinki?"

"your shirt?" he raised an eyebrow, clearly feigning ignorance.

he was wearing your favorite grey t-shirt and it looked pitiful on him, it was as if it can tear at any moment. it barely covered his abdomen and was stretched to its limit.

"no shit, sherlock." you facepalmed at his usual weirdness. "what i want to know is why... why are you wearing it?"

"i thought we were doing a thing wherein we wear each other's clothes." he shrugged as if his response should be expected.

"what? no! please have mercy on my shirt and put on your own clothes." you can't help but laugh at him as you pushed him back to the dresser.

"alright, alright! i just wanted to make you laugh and look, it worked perfectly." he playfully pinched the tip of your nose before taking off the top he borrowed. "also, you should keep that shirt since it looks a hundred--no, million--times better on you."

"thanks, love," you whispered as you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him into a warm hug.

key / kibum:

after the long busy months, you were finally having a girl's night with your best friends. you stood in front of the full-length mirror in your room to give yourself a final check. your hair was styled into textured waves and your lips were colored with the boldest red lipstick you can find. your nude heels matched the little black dress you were wearing. your outfit looked almost perfect and you just knew what you were missing. you quickly snatched key's gold leather jacket and put it on. ah, perfection.

this was the norm for you. your boyfriend's wardrobe was beyond incredible especially his outerwear collection and you just had to wear them every chance you can get. to be honest, key was very stubborn in letting you borrow his clothes... at first. after all the compromising, begging, and crying you made, he eventually budged and gave up. of course, it does not come for free. he practically made you sign a contract that once you stained his clothes, you have to shoulder the bill of the laundry and the shop will be chosen by him. however, if you damaged or god forbid, lost his clothes, you have to replace them. you immediately said yes to all of the conditions in a heartbeat. so far you only paid for 2 incredulously expensive laundry bills.

now, you were finally ready to leave. you walked out of the bedroom and made your way down the living room. there, key was sitting on the couch watching one of his favorite tv series.

"I'll be going out now," you announced as you grab your car keys near the front door.

"hey, hey, hey!" key clicked his tongue upon seeing your clothes. he was now looking behind his shoulder and giving you a stink eye. "is that my jacket?"

"um... maybe?" you gave him an awkward smile.

"of course, it's mine." he shook his head disapprovingly. "only i can pull that off, by the way." he sassily added.

"wow, i didn't know the fashion police was here. you should have given me a head's up, babe ." you bit back with a scoff. the last time you checked, you looked damn fine in it.

"just stating facts, baby," he replied in english.

"alright, then why don't you take me shopping then? so you can buy me a new set of clothes that will satisfy your standards." you challenged and if he said yes, you were clearly the winner.

"excuse me, i do call you 'baby' but i am not your sugar daddy. go now, you'll be late." he shooed you off.

"okay bye," a playful smirk appeared on your face. "daddy."

this made key rolled his eyes before turning his back on you. he would very much rather ignore you if you keep on acting that way.

"it's bye now, for real." you giggled as you open the door. "love you!" you called out before stepping out.

"love you too, brat." key mumbled with a small smile.

minho:

winter was approaching and the air was slowly becoming colder than usual. it was the best time to stay in the comfort of your warm home and enjoy hot cocoa with your loved ones. a perfect time to wear your sweaters and hoodies indoors. however, this was not the case for minho for his favorite hoodie was missing.

"hey, babe?" he called out from the bedroom. "have you seen my black hoodie? the one with the white writings on it."

"what's that, i didn't hear you?" you went inside a few seconds later.

and there it was, his favorite hoodie being worn by his favorite person. you looked smaller while wearing it since it was way too big for you. the hem almost touched your knees and your whole arms were lost inside the sleeves. he can't help but smile at the sight.

"nothing, i was just looking for my hoodie but it looks like i found it." he gestured at the clothes you were wearing.

"oh, shoot. sorry, i didn't tell you that i borrowed it." you hit your forehead with your palm.

"it's okay. you're free to use them anytime, anyway." he patted the top of your head.

within the last few weeks, minho noticed that you sometimes wear his clothes. it was not a daily thing though and you even asked for his permission. slowly, it became every day and he would just be surprised to see you walking around the house parading his jackets and sweaters. he didn't mind it though, he was just curious about what you do to your own clothing. also, he hoped that he still had some remaining tops for himself during the cold season.

well, guess luck was not on his side.

his eyes were staring at his closet wherein there was only one jacket left, one. you followed his gaze and you promptly felt the warmth raised to your cheeks. you were surely red from embarrassment now. you were happily wearing his clothes that you didn't have the time to count how much was left.

"oh my god, i'm sorry! i didn't--" you cut yourself off as you watched him put on the lone jacket from his dresser. "i'm sorry, i didn't notice it. i just... can't help myself. your jackets are so comfortable and warm compare to mine." you tried to explain yourself. also not to mention that they all smelled just like him.

"don't worry about it." he reassured you as he placed his arm around your shoulder. "just be mindful next time. i might end up half-naked someday, you know."

"how can you be so sure that's not my goal?" you teased before sticking your tongue out.

he laughed at your silliness and then pressed a soft kiss on your warm forehead. you decided to make a cup of hot cocoa for him as a peace offering.

taemin:

it was past midnight and it was raining cats and dogs outside. you visited taemin in his apartment for a stay-at-home dinner date but a storm came before you can even go back home. taemin then convinced you to spend the night there instead. it was not a big deal anyway since you stayed over a lot of times already. you just didn't bring your sleepover bag with you and the dress you were wearing was definitely not comfortable to sleep on.

your caring boyfriend of course promised to ease your worries. the two of you shared a warm bath after dinner and he lent you his clothes for you to change to. so that was how you ended up on his couch, fighting off sleep because the show you both were watching always had a cliffhanger ending per episode. you two needed some answers before you can drift off to sleep peacefully. it was the weekend tomorrow anyway so staying up late won't hurt that much.

your head was laying on his lap while his right hand was playing on the locks of your hair and his left one was comfortably resting on the top of your hip. his hand would occasionally rub circles on the exposed skin. as much as you hate to move from your cozy spot, you had to or else you might end up dozing off right there and then. not to mention, him playing on your hair does not help at all.

you slowly got up from the sofa as you tried to stifled a yawn. "i'll just go get some cold drink." you pushed yourself up from your seat.

you then raised your arms and stretched with a satisfied groan. your shoulders and back were sore after laying down for more or less 3 hours. you can even hear your joints cracking from stretching out. also, you felt the shirt you were wearing raised up.

taemin's shirts were not overly huge for you whenever you wore them. the hem barely covered your behind and right now you were sure that a tiny portion of your buttcheeks was peeking through the white tee. you weren't conscious about it, taemin saw much more than that anyway.

suddenly, you felt a slap across your behind which made you freeze on your spot. you looked behind and saw your boyfriend confidently leaning on the couch with his legs crossed.

"did you just slap my butt?" you inquired.

"uh-huh," he nodded with a cocky grin. "want me to spank you again?"

you frowned a little as you processed the sudden change of mood. taemin won't deny it though, seeing you in his shirts always made his heart skip a bit and his breathing ragged. you always looked effortlessly sexy in them.

"sure, why not?" you replied wickedly after a few seconds of silence.

taemin processed your answer in a split second and he hastily grabbed you by the waist and threw you on his broad shoulders. he did not forget you give you another smack on the ass when he made his way toward the bedroom, the television was completely forgotten.

#shinee #shinee reacts #shinee reactions #onew #key #minho #taemin #shinee react #shinee reaction #shinee x reader #shinee x you #lee jinki #kim kibum #choi minki #lee taemin #shinee world #shinee hoodie #shinee shirt #shinee jacket

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burnedbyshoto · 5 years

Text

house sitting & concupiscence

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

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

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

word count: 18,631

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

message to join tag list :)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shouto?”

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

“…we have to cancel the reservation.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If Endeavor doesn’t want me—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then he let out a dark chuckle.

And you were too slow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shouto! This is—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But no, you couldn’t do this!

“Shouto, let’s — oh my god!”

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

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

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

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

“Fuck me right then…”

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

Hot, fast, dangerous.

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

Hunger, desire, need.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lust, amazement, love, and confusion.

“What is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“SHOUTO!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give me a show.”

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

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

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

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

But it made you feel so good.

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

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

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

Faster and hard, faster, and harder.

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

Use Endeavor’s name.

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

His name was used.

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

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

“Aren’t you being a fucking slut.”

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

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

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

“Shouto?! What the fu— mmph?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I needa— holy shit, r-right there!”

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

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

“Cum.”

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

“Shouto!”

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

You had squirted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nope.”

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

“Shouto, do not!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Answer me, whore.”

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

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

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

Slap.

“One. T-Thank you, sir.”

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

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

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

Slap.

“One! Thank you, s-sir!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That feels so — fuck — do that!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Faster.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your head nods, “Y-Yes, sir!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three more minutes.

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

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

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

“Shou— ack!!”

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

“Shit, baby, are you okay?”

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

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

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

“You sure?”

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

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

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

Your eyes widened, your ability to talk back removed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to hear your words.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you—?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The glint disappeared.

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

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

But you had completely forgotten about the ball gag.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good god, were you exhausted.

“You broke the fan,” Shouto murmured.

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

Oh, fuck!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fucking take my cock,” he growls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you ever wanted to try anal?”

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

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

“Answer me.”

“Y-Yes!”

“Yes, what?!”

“I want your cock in my ass!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, well — oHMY GOD!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Begging for more, begging to come.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good morning, my love.”

Bonus!

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

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

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

CRASH!

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

“SHOUTOOOOOO!”

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

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